Crowley remembers traveling. Always running into Aziraphale here and there. Sometimes in the most ridiculous of places. Also the dampest of places, which was always annoying. They could never just run into each other in a palace or something. Always had to be somewhere awful. Except in Rome, but that was just after he'd been trying to tempt Caligula, so he was in an awful mood. Then he got older, and...just sort of settled. It seemed the right thing to do. Didn't need anything that London didn't already provide.

Aziraphale was looking at their hands, and for a moment, Crowley thinks he's misjudged. No, no, he's gone one step too far, overstepped that very strict line between them that's always been there and Never To Be Crossed.

"Is this...?" All right? A question he should be asking? Yet another line not to be crossed?