Crowley (bouncing into the bookshop): Angel what did they teach you in that driving class anyway, the Bentley is parked on the wrong side of the road. I had to miracle away a ticket.
Aziraphale (calmly): Well I assure you I parked her in her usual spot.
Crowley (the record scratch sound in his head actually manifesting in the bookshop): Her?
Aziraphale (infuriatingly calmly): Why, yes my dear.
Crowley (stammering): Ngkfwahj the Bentley isn't isn't isn't a her. It's... it's The Bentley.
Aziraphale: (in the same tone as "wait and see!"): That's not what she tells me.
Crowley: Whaaat?
Aziraphale (indulgently exasperated): Well it makes perfect sense to me. Queen is her favorite, after all. Maybe she moved over to this side of the road to be closer to the shop.
Crowley (eyes widening to all yellow): SHE. MOVES. ON. HER. OWN.
Aziraphale: Well of course she does. I’m sure she must always do that for you.
Crowley: ...
Aziraphale (fondly): She's rather like a puppy sometimes.
Crowley (boggles): ...
Aziraphale: Whatever is the matter Crowley?
Crowley: Um, well, er, what does she want to be called, then? I feel like a right arse calling her "The Bentley" if she's always wanted a different name.
Aziraphale: Oh no my dearest, she loves what you call her. How could she not? She's you after all.
Crowley (boggling intensifies): ...
Aziraphale (deeply fond): Quite like a puppy sometimes.
(Inspired by the thought that we've only canonically seen the Bentley follow Aziraphale.)
