That is completely adorable. But clearly he's having some sort of mental breakdown of this whole thing so Aziraphale pats his cheek, dismissing it and rises.

"Well I suppose I had better figure this out then." He looks at the sword with a bit of distaste. "I do hate fighting. But... one does as one must..."

There was only so much one could do with a spark after all, and if he had to keep Crowley from having to-- well-- go snake, then he would have to... work hard-- with this distasteful thing.

"I will need a bath when this is done," he muttered to himself, rolling his shoulders. "More like a thousand..."