Chapter Text
It was one o'clock on a Sunday afternoon, and Aziraphale had somehow managed to lose his husband. Well, he wasn’t really ‘lost,’ per se. 'Temporarily misplaced’ was a far more accurate description, much like a certain child had been those many years ago. Regardless, Aziraphale was now standing among the selection of fruits at the grocer’s and Crowley was nowhere to be seen.
He sighed. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Crowley tended to get distracted quite easily. Aziraphale had accidentally left him behind on the French side of the Chunnel once, when the demon had wandered off to look at a particularly interesting weed sprouting up between the cracks in the pavement. Crowley still brought that one up.
Aziraphale briefly wondered if he could somehow get Crowley to agree to wear one of those backpack leashes he had seen some people using on children, but the sulking that would most likely take place had him quickly dismissing the thought. Luckily, he could sense him nearby, so wherever he had gone off to, it wasn’t far.
He put his unpaid shopping down by the entrance to the supermarket, and followed Crowley’s aura until he found himself standing in front of the bakery just a little ways down the street. Through the glass window, he saw a familiar thatch of flaming hair, so he opened the door and stepped inside
Upon hearing the gentle tinkle of the bell above the entrance, Crowley turned around and his face broke into a grin, just as it always did- whenever they were apart, no matter how briefly, Crowley’s face would brighten whenever his eyes landed on Aziraphale again.
It was the reason why, no matter how often it happened, Aziraphale could never really be annoyed with Crowley for his tendency to wander. In fact, he was well aware that his own features mirrored the same warmth, and he had a hunch it was that which led to the frequency of the habit in the first place. (Except for the Chunnel. By the heavens, he’d never hear the end of the Chunnel. You’d think that had been parted for days by the way Crowley went on about it.)
“There you are,” he said softly, placing a gentle kiss on Crowley’s lips.
“Look at you, you managed not to board any trains without me,” Crowley teased.
“For the seven hundredth time, I was reading, and you know it,” Aziraphale grumbled as the lady behind the counter handed over a box of pastries to Crowley. He peered at it curiously. “What’s that?”
“Oh, I just got you a little something, that’s all,” Crowley said as they exited the bakery. “Shall we sit?”
Aziraphale smiled. “Let’s finish the shopping, and we’ll enjoy it when he get home.” And then he took Crowley’s hand in his own and didn’t release it until they returned to their shared cottage, save for one instance where he stopped to tie his shoe and then found Crowley several steps away, that same warm smile lighting up his face when Aziraphale caught up.