Paris

Aziraphale took in the air. Paris didn’t smell like it used to, but it was surprisingly similar in certain ways. Especially on certain streets, where he always felt like he could stop in one more place, no matter when he had last ate.

But that wasn’t the point of the day. He waited out on the street, watching those who passed him with mild interest.

He felt when someone walked up behind him, but he didn’t turn. Aziraphale gave Crowley the opportunity he wanted to place a hand on his shoulder.

Been waiting long? he mouthed, in a language no one would have known, even in London.

Aziraphale smiled and shook his head, taking Crowley’s arm and making the demon turn his head away as he pretended to be unaffected by the entire deal.

Where are we going? Aziraphale whispered into his ear. He could see the hairs at the back of Crowley’s neck raise up when he pulled his head back.

“Sssssurprise,” Crowley mumbled, his unaffected air a complete sham at this point.

“Ah, then I won’t pry.” Aziraphale patted the back of Crowley’s hand and let him lead the way.

It really did matter where they were, but right now Aziraphale was glad the two of them were in Paris. Old memories aside.

It was the new ones he was looking forward to.

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