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As the phone went to voicemail for the fourth time that day, worry began to consume Crowley. The demon took a deep breath and left another voicemail. Though he tried not to sound worried, he failed.
A few minutes passed by as he paced the entire span of his lounge. Lap after lap passed before he finally decided to try again. Quickly, he walked to the phone. Anxiety swallowed him deeper and deeper as the time stretched on.
Once Crowley’s slightly shaky hand was hovering over the phone, it rang. The phone was answered and to his ear in record time. The only problem is his words were caught in his throat.
“Crowley? Dear, is everything alright? You sound very distraught in your voice messages.” Aziraphale spoke with heavy concern in his tone. Seconds pass. The words were still unable to spill from his mouth.
“Crowley, I’m coming over.” Aziraphale’s growing concern is evident in his voice. Finally, Crowley clears his throat. “You don’t gotta do that Angel. I’m fine. Just want to see if you want to go to lunch at the Ritz.” The demon’s voice was a small, relieved croak.
“Crowley, you must know I don’t believe that for one second. We can talk about what’s the matter over lunch, my Dear.” The Angel spoke in a gentle and minorly commanding tone. That made Crowley smile softly to himself.
“Nothing gets past you, Angel. I’ll pick you up in the Bentley.” Crowley chuckled as he grabbed his car keys. “Our Bentley.” A chipper, angelic voice from the phone added. “Just be ready.” Crowley groaned before hanging up.