Crowley stared down the street, his eyes narrowed beneath his dark, circular glasses, and his posture stiff at he leaned against his Bentley. He scowled, and his eyes darted in every direction, expecting Aziraphale, hopefully, to return soon. He didn’t want to see anyone else anyways.

“Bloody hell, Angel, where—!”

He grunted, and was about to yell out upon having someone bump into him on the street, but when he turned and saw..someone?

“Uh, who the hell- oh-“