That seemed just a little bit ironic. There was nothing angelic about Grell, but his explanation about the angel of death was easy enough to accept. Either way, it worked well as an alias since no one was going to look at the redhead and think angel. "All right, I'll keep an eye out for notes signed with that name." There was the slight chance that there was someone else around here who was actually called that, but Harvey figured that he would be able to tell if a note was meant for him.

Grell was still doing a fantastic job of acting totally nuts, and Harvey had to wonder if it was all an act, something meant to unnerve whoever he was talking to, or if it was the real deal. He knew that beggars couldn't be choosers, though, and anyone who was comfortable with death was bound to be a little unhinged. So he ignored it.

It was hard to believe that anyone could actually enjoy their time here, but with someone like Grell... Maybe it was possible. He clearly wasn't your average person, especially if he was telling the truth and had lived a life that consisted of reaping souls.

Whatever, he'd let the guy believe that he was going to be heroically rescued if he wanted to. It was no skin off his back, anyway. "Fair enough," he said with a shrug, more or less in unison with the sound of the intercom coming on. Well, wasn't that well-timed for once?

As Harvey stood from his seat, he offered Grell a tired glance and a weary smile. "Pleasure doing business with you." It was clear that his tone was only half-serious, though, since he couldn't yet make any judgments on how it would be to work with Grell. For all he knew, this could be a terrible mistake.