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"Good sir, I did think we had this worked out!" Aziraphale protested. Sergeant Shadwell took a menacing step forward, finger pointed accusingly, and Aziraphale backed up into one of his bookcases. Thankfully, there was no portal to Heaven open this time; Gabriel and the other angels wouldn't take kindly to his sudden appearance after the stunt he and Crowley had pulled.
"Armageddon or no Armageddon, I saw you summon a foul glowing creature from the depths of hell, and as a sergeant of the Witchfinder Army, it is my sworn duty to banish your evil from this world!" Shadwell declared, finger still pointed, though based on how it was shaking, his arm seemed to be getting tired from holding it aloft.
"And that is a noble cause, truly! But seeing as we stopped Armageddon together, surely I've proven that I have only good intentions," Aziraphale said. He glanced at the antique clock on the wall; he had a lunch date in Naples with Crowley at 12:45, and the time was swiftly approaching. "If it eases your mind, I was trying to contact the Almighty, not any sort of unsavory character. Unfortunately, I only got as far as her secretary."
"Quiet, scum!" Shadwell shouted, seeming to have found a renewed flair for the dramatic in his pursuit of the issue. "You're a devil, and I've come to exorcize you from this innocent bookshop once and for all!"
"I'm not even the demon," Aziraphale complained under his breath.
"Shut it so I can exorcize you!"
As soon as Shadwell got past the excitement of subduing Aziraphale and announcing his intentions, he seemed to droop with the realization that he didn't actually know how to perform an exorcism. Aziraphale was about to offer him some suggestions out of politeness when he began to yell things at random and gesture wildly with his finger, which shook with the channeled wrath of the heavens, or perhaps with muscle fatigue.
"Begone to whence you came from, beast, and hereto...hereafter? Never return to do your foul deeds!"
"Well that isn't gonna work," Crowley drawled from a corner of the bookshop that Aziraphale kept poorly lit so Crowley could properly lurk in it when it suited him. Shadwell startled and swore. "Needs more chanting, probably in Latin."
Crowley stepped out of the shadows and pulled his sunglasses off to reveal his snakelike eyes. Shadwell swore more and louder, then bolted out the door.
"Do come back soon!" Aziraphale called after him, then turned to address Crowley. "It seems you've saved me once again!"
"Why didn't you just miracle him asleep or to his flat or something?" Crowley asked.
"It would have been rude! And besides, the Sergeant means well; he just tends to point his accusations rather hastily."
"And his finger. What's with the finger, anyway?"
"I, er, believe he thinks he can perform magic with it."
"Gonna be a right kick in the trousers when he figures out he can't. C'mon, you wanted to try that pasta thing."
"Ooh, yes! Did I tell you it actually originated in--"