It Started Out With A Kiss (How Did It End Up Like This)

Easy

After having calmed down after the initial shock of being parents for almost a decade, and having talked about what they meant to each other, (praise someone) the ineffable duo decided to venture on to their own stomping grounds. Upon arrival of his beloved bookshop, Aziraphale had learned Crowley had managed to convince Muriel it was demonic to sell a book. Why, it was the very reason the newly appointed supreme archangel never dared.

"You are looking better Mr. Crowley." Muriel smiled up at the chipper demon, whose skin was glowing and had had an idiotic grin plastered on his face ever since the love of his life had indeed confessed as well, followed by a long awaited make out session. "Your hair looks great that way."

Crowley's grin never faltered, "You think so?" He ran his fingers through his now shoulder length hair. "You know, for some reason, I tempt a lot more people than usual when I have it long. Must be a lucky thing or something. Don't you agree, angel?"

Aziraphale had been muttering to himself as he looked for a certain something through his desk's drawers. "What's that, my dear? Ah-ha!" The angel beamed when he managed to find whatever was lost. "Found it." He smiled as he handed Crowley an old polaroid. "It is not a Clue on – " he looked over at Muriel – "the present thing we are dealing with however, we do have to start the search from somewhere."

Crowley reached out to take the polaroid from his angel's delicate hands. "Er, how exactly is this going to help? This just manages to tell us that night happened. We know it happened," he pointed between them, "we were there, remember."

"Ah, you see but if we can recall what exactly we were thinking regarding –" Aziraphale looked over at Muriel once more.

"Say, Muriel," Crowley started as he began to lead Muriel to the door, "I bet the supreme archangel here would appreciate something from the coffee shop." Muriel grinned happily, very eager to help her new boss. "Anything but coffee!" The demon shouted before slamming the door. "Angel, I don't think whatever you are thinking about will work into finding her." He said as soon as he turned to face his lover.

"Now, my dearest, don't say that. We need to locate her before," Aziraphale shook his head and pointed upwards, "they can have a chance to."

"Then what?" Crowley shrugged. "What if she is a threat to us, to herself, to humanity? How are we going to remedy said problem?"

Aziraphale closed the gap between them and placed his hands gently on Crowley's chest. His eyes were pleading with him to understand the logic of it all. "I highly doubt she is a danger at all. She was made by us, by," he gave a shy smile, "the love we share. If we can recall any little detail of the hypotheticals we stated about her, we can locate her. We most certai – the dairy!" Aziraphale pushed a baffled Crowley away.

Crowley tilted his head in confusion as he followed Aziraphale's hurried steps to the back of the bookshop. Near his desk there seemed to be a bookcase unlike the rest. Whereas all the books in A.Z. Fell and Co. were precious gems to Aziraphale, there were some he particularly treasured, his diaries. There were countless volumes dating back to when the first humans began to keep records of themselves. Aziraphale had found this concept intriguing and thought it would be interesting, at least to himself, to have something like that from his adventures among humans. Something he can take back to heaven to educate the rest of the angels, expect for some volumes, of course, as he would have to partake in some heavy editing. Too many volumes contained a certain tall, dark duke of a demon. "This is the one." The angel pulled it out as if it could easily rip apart. He began to skim through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "Ah, here we are." After finding the part he required, he cleared his throat: