[From
here.]
As always (although the layout of the upper floors of Milliways doesn't seem to make much sense to anyone accustomed only to the usual three dimensions), they find their room without too much difficulty.
Funny, that.
The door snicks shut behind Crowley, and in the silence that falls, he makes a note to devise at least a dozen interesting afflictions for Aziraphael's blessed manicurist.
He perches on the end of the bed, leaving the room's single armchair for the angel.