She does not know Gabe very well, nor has she known him for very long, but the short stretch of time before she gets any response does not seem to be what she would call characteristic for him. The door opens with a click and swings to accommodate her, apparently on its own, in what must count for some implicit invitation by archangel standards. She tentatively enters.

And Gabe is on the floor.

Aziraphale is on the floor.

And a dog is asleep on Aziraphale's back.

Mako doesn't really know where to begin.

"I thought he was out?" she says, head to one side. Having answered his question and run out of sufficient distractions from the haphazard state of Gabe's floor, Mako hurries on, brow furrowed. "Why is Aziraphale on your floor?"