Aziraphale smiles at the thought of the little French bakery just a few blocks away from his shop. It was such a nice place, had a tremendously comforting air about it despite the gruffness of its owner. He had liked taking the walk over there, but he liked it even better when Crowley showed up in his entrance with a fresh bag of something thoughtfully sweet so he didn't have to.

"No one else has taste as good as I do," he explains as he follows behind Crowley into their home. He shuts and locks the door behind the two of them before pulling his own coat off to hang by the door.

That part is also novel to him, their coats hanging up by the door. It's one of those little things that really do give it such a homey feeling. He wonders if he can maintain the habit once they eventually make their way out of here.

"Brandy," he answers, making a quick one-handed gesture to encourage Crowley to take a seat on the couch. Aziraphale walks by him to fetch the afforement alcohol and two tumblers from the kitchen.