[In amongst all the other words is an actual answer for how Aziraphale disappeared, and while it leaves something to be desired, it could be worse. Discorporated, not destroyed, and not hurt by Heaven, which is one of Crowley's worst fears.]

Right. [Breathing is an unnecessary affectation but a useful one. He takes a few deep breaths, in and out, trying to center himself, pretending he can't still smell smoke and taste ash on his tongue.] Suppose anything could have started the fire, with all those books.

[Not the most flameproof material, really.]

How'd you get a body again? Can't imagine Heaven would be keen about handing one out.