[He can glare all he likes, maintain that scraped-together poise, but all it does is draw a laugh from Giovanni, quick and hard and without a trace of genuine mirth. He closes the small remaining distance between them, hand on Keith's shoulder now, grip firm but overtly restrained, a subtle reminder that whilst Crowley may have been capable of knocking him down a peg or two, he's still more than capable of ripping your arm right off, if he chose to.]

Lucky, am I?

[He smiles, kiss close.]

And what do you think would have happened, had it been you and Lance hunting me down that night, without the assistance of that overpowered oaf?

[Never mind that the answer is, he'd have done his best to slip away without causing either of them lasting harm. He of all people has no reason to resent anyone purely following orders.]