The stunned look on Gabriel's face doesn't leave it, even as he crosses the shiny tiled floor of Eden and comes to a halt just before Aziraphale. "Ezra?"
"Oh, Gabriel… I completely forgot that you attend class here." Aziraphale smiled, a mix of satisfaction and true happiness.
Aziraphale watched brown eyebrows draw together over violet eyes, heard him stutter out, "What are you doing here?"
Aziraphale's smile widened; this was it! Gabriel would finally figure out how serious he was. "I go here."
"To Heaven?" Aziraphale's smile dimmed at the obvious incredulity, but he pushed past it. "You?"
"It wasn't that difficult, Gabriel." He was still smiling, somewhat more false than it had been at the beginning, but it was still genuine to some degree.
A shuffle of paper sounded just behind them, a flash of red and black accompanying it. Crowley's voice sounded then, and he walked into view a few moments later. "I think this is yours… Aziraphale Fell, yes?" A nod of confirmation later, Crowley held out a paper. "Your academic roster."
Aziraphale smiled - genuine this time - and took the sheet, glancing through it. "Thank you, Crowley." He immediately turned to Gabriel. "We simply must catch up after class." With a sedate (or, at least, he thought it was a sedate) wave over his shoulder.
As he walked away, he continued to pay attention to those he left behind, noting the tension between Crowley and Gabriel, and wondering at it. He heard Crowley ask, "Who's that, then, Gabe?", quickly followed by a cool "My ex." before he's out of earshot and settling down at his desk again.
A voice - cool, calm, professional, and borderline barbed - breaks into his haze of happy reverie. "All that tartan you're wearing… Is that even legal?"
Aziraphale turns, his tone affronted as he responds. "It's my signature tartan!"
The woman behind him - pretty enough, with long brunette hair swept into a coiff atop her head, but with a condescending expression on her face - raised an eyebrow. "I can see that."
Affront turned to outrage, but Crowley's voice split the chatter first. "Take your seats, people!" He was lounging in one of the chairs at the front of the class, papers spread out messily on the desk before him. "Morningstar'll be here any second."
The chatter disappeared completely, replaced with the noises of countless zippers and the rustling of cloth backpacks as the students pull out laptops. Aziraphale wrinkles his nose in what he could admit was pretentious distaste, whipping out a spiral-bound notebook and fountain pen to prepare for writing. He ignored the scornful look from the woman behind him, noted the amusement visible in Crowley's face (despite the seemingly omnipresent sunglasses in the way), and pretended not to notice the weird looks the other students were giving him. Still, he did notice them, and a light blush was definitely rising to his cheeks.
Luckily, Crowley seemed to notice his distress and stepped in, drawing the class's attention back to himself. "I've been in those seats. Heard the rumors. Morningstar's ruthless… tortures his students… bathes in their blood and tears, et cetera." He pauses, then tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Well… 's only partly true. But what you really need to know is-"
He was interrupted by the sound of a door opening and banging against the wall behind it. Given the slight tinge of annoyance on Crowley's face, this wasn't anything unexpected or rare and, as Aziraphale watched the dramatic entrance of the man responsible - he was tall and slim, with still-brown hair and an immaculate grey checkered suit - he guessed that this was a daily occurrence.
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you." He stopped - both his words and his footsteps - once he reached the front of the classroom, standing right beside the desk Crowley was using. In one fluid move, he sat down on top of it, effectively sending some of Crowley's papers to the floor and squashing others. Aziraphale winced in sympathy (noting the annoyance on Crowley's face as he did so), but his attention was quickly drawn back to the professor as he spoke again. "Hello, darlings. Pleasure to meet you. I'm your professor - Lucius Morningstar - and this? This is Criminal Law 101."