There were a few differences about the caravan since Balthazar had last visited. For one, judging by the webs on the wheels and the indents on the grass, the caravan hadn't moved in days. The door was open, and the inside was a little messier than it used to be, as if Gabriel wasn't bothering to try and put things (clothes, utensils) away.

What was the point? He'd just have to fumble to get them out all over again. That was one good thing about Aziraphale's hovering, that at least things were clean, even if they were untidy.

The archangel was still holding his phone, one hand resting on the counter as he made his way down the caravan's aisle to the door. At the sound of Balthazar's voice his head snapped up and he gave the other angel a sunny, utterly empty smile, his sightless gaze trained on some point past Balthazar's head. "Hi there, bro. Apparently I rank a trip on angel-airlines; wouldn't've thunk."