Crowley had been on his way back to his console.

Crowley had looking a little better, taller, walking with purpose.

As he stops dead in his tracks, and slowly starts to turn around, he seems to be trying to hunch himself smaller - don't mind me, little old me. He stares at the screen for a few moments, and he isn't quite gaping, because he hadn't known Nicholas Rosse, but he had known that voice. And he knows that face.

"Hngk," Crowley manages after a moment. "Hi, boss."