“Awake the Snake,” Crowley mumbles. “They’ll get ‘awake the snake’. This snake’s awake. Awake as a… very awake thing.” He burrows impossibly further into the duvet, his actions belying the words there was no-one there to hear.
Naturally, his first conscious thought, as usual, is Aziraphale.
Crowley luxuriates for a moment, stretching out as he remembers their last conversation. He wonders idly if Aziraphale has been baking since March. He is unsure what the world looks like, months later, but some things are always certain and Aziraphale’s love of prandial delights is at the top of that list.
He reaches for his phone. As he does so, he notices that an envelope has been carefully placed upon it, tied with a red ribbon and with “Crowley” written in unmistakable cursive.
Breaking into a serpentine smile, he carefully removes the note, which reads…
My dear Crowley,
I hope you have had a restful sleep. I must say that I have missed you a great deal! London has been so quiet these past months, and, while social distancing has been wonderful for keeping away customers, I am afraid I have had rather too much time on my hands.
I have been to visit you often, since such visits have been permitted. I hope you don’t mind terribly, but I did want to make sure you were safe, you see.
I have had a lot of time to think during this pandemic, and I have decided that it is time for a change. I didn’t want to wake you to tell you about it – you looked so peaceful sleeping – so I have left you a note.
Only… I got a little bored, you see, and I thought it might be fun to set you a puzzle to lead you to the news! I did warn you it had been quiet… I’ve hidden the first clue in this letter.
I hope to see you soon, my dear.
Yours, eternally,
Aziraphale