It's Aziraphael who shakes himself out of it first, but only because he's so absorbed in the first place; struck by the way the whispering breeze ruffles Crowley's hair across his forehead, and noticing, then, when the demon hunches his shoulders ever so slightly.

"What am I thinking, keeping you standing up here?" he says abruptly -- even some dizzy approximation of briskly. "There's a lovely fire going in the gatehouse, and fresh sheets and all of that. Everyone's in the main chapel, so they won't see us going down."

There may not have been a fire in the gatehouse fireplace five minutes ago, but then, five minutes ago, he hadn't been expecting company.