Nyāya looked at Crowley and crooked his finger, in a come here way.
Crowley slide over the dance floor. Nyāya took out a pen and flower post-it from his jacket pocket. Wrote Crowley on one and Aziraphale on another.
"You have to share a world with millions of humans. Like any good shared accommodation, you have to label what you treasure and hope people treat it properly" he put a post-it on Crowley's jacket, above his heart. "move your car, the burger van is setting up there later" then he handed him the other post-it
"Aziraphale. Front and centre"
Crowley patted the label on his friend's waistcoat, above his heart, as they passed each other.
Nyāya wrote Metatron on another note.
Took out a small knife, in a scabbard. Labelled it and handed it to the Angel. "Return that"
"And don't check it. It is sharp and will cut your thumbs off"
"My first commander said the same thing"
"Yes. I did"
"What?"
"Yes. She did"
"That guy said you're in charge?" the fiddle player had a old battered violin case and a amp.
"That guy?" Nyāya asked
"The one with the hot chocolate video"
"That guy, is correct. Set up over there" he pointed to the band stage.
"He said he was..."
"Moving the car?"
"Yeah and he would be.."
"Right back?"
"Yeah"
The accordionist arrived. "Evening Guv"
Nyāya nodded to the corner
"Right you are"
"Lift home Angel?"
"I'm driving" Aziraphale
"I'll sit in the back then."
Crowley took a cap from his pocket. It was too big to fit in his pocket, but fit Aziraphale perfectly. Who held the door open for Crowley and made sure he was safely in before closing the door. He straightened his waistcoat, tie and hat. A pea rolled off the brim of it and a small white jigsaw piece.
Walking round to the other side of the car, he slipped into the backseat. "Home please"
The Bentley let out a short beep beep and drove off back to Earth and its parking spot outside a old bookshop in London.
"My car does not make that noise"