"He's not in London. He's away on mission." Crowley said it in a way no one had ever said anything that was supposed to mimic the way he'd been informed of it by Gabriel all that time ago. What was it now, three years? Something like that. Which he thought to himself - usually thoughts he repressed to the back of his mind - and then remembered furiously googling, all the research he had done to try and track Aziraphale down. To find the training centre, to find out where he'd been sent, anything.

And for how long. Two years, a mission lasted two years. Even with the six months training period, that had to mean that Aziraphale was back by now. Working-- Wait, didn't Anathema work at a library?

"Fucking hell!" He was back by now! Aziraphale was back from mission. "Where is he? I'm gonna--"

He noticed the way Newt looked at him, Bill's hand tightening on him. So he forced himself to appear calm. "I'm just curious. To catch up, you know?" Fucking bastard.