Crowley sometimes drew looks for some reason or another, and he thought that perhaps the lady's smile had drifted more toward a look of curiosity because he still wore his sunglasses in the starlight. He took a step closer to her as though he thought an invitation to do so would be the next words from her lips, and casually tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Me?" He said, wondering if she'd just implied he was also as lovely as the night, or if he was simply misunderstanding things. Of course if she had, well, he was wearing a new jacket and Crowley always took pride in being well turned out, if nothing else. "Have I got some barbecue sauce on my face or some such?"