"Well, well, if it isn't mr. Crowley. You're late, lad. Sleep in?"

Anthony smirked. Ezra hadn't objected to Anthony wearing his sunglasses for now. It was quite outside, after all and his eyes were still rather red and puffy. On the other hand, Ezra was less than charmed by the return of the fake bravado that came with them. "Oh, you know me, sergeant. Late nights, overnight guests, living the fast life." He took a quick glance around. "Where's the missus?"

"The bairn better not have heard any of whatever you did with your overnight guests, or you'll have me to answer to, son! And take those sunglasses off, you look like those damned mafia."

Ezra's first reaction was to firmly, but not painfully, elbow Anthony in the side. For what it was worth, he did take off his sunglasses. Ezra's second reaction was to shoot Anthony a scolding look and tell the man behind the counter, "What he means to say, is that he's later than you might have expected due to circumstances out of our collective control. And Adam slept very well, actually. Thank you for your concern."

"You must be his young man, then," the old man Anthony had addressed simply as 'sergeant' concluded. He extended a flour-dusted hand to Ezra and a dry biscuit to Adam, who vigorously chomped down on it. "Thomas Shadwell. The wife's at home. We're getting the WiFis installed for the grandkids."

Ezra smiled and shook his hand. "Ezra Fell. I run the bookshop a few streets away."

"Right. I've seen you around there before," mr. Shadwell said before his brow creased in deep thought. "Fell, huh? I know that name. Any relation to John Fell?"

Ezra turned to Anthony, who shrugged his shoulders, then back to mr. Shadwell. "Actually, yes. John Fell was my father."

Mr. Shadwell smiled. "Well, wouldya' look at that. He was in my class through all of primary school, and most of secondary school as well. He and his girlfriend, Delia. Very serious, the two of them. Even as children. But you seem like a free thinking young lad. Especially if you're consorting with the likes of…well, him."

"You know I can hear you, right?" Anthony remarked, but there was no bite to it. Ezra noticed the way Anthony was looking at him from the corner of his eye, gauging his reaction. Anthony took his hand in reassurance, making sure he was okay.

For the first time since that morning, Ezra found himself laughing. "I like to think that I am. Thank you, mr. Shadwell."

"How are they, nowadays?"

"Sergeant, you can't just—" Anthony started, but when Ezra squeezed his hand, he quieted down.

"It's alright, Anthony, dear," Ezra told him, but he could still feel Anthony's gaze burning holes in his shoulder and he could feel tears pricking behind his eyes. "I'm sorry mr. Shadwell, but I believe you misheard. My father passed away some years ago. As for my mother…" He took a deep, shaking breath and blinked the tears out of his eyes, but before he could continue, he was interrupted.

"Say no more," said mr. Shadwell. He waved towards a booth between the counter and the window. "You go on and take a seat. I'll be right with you with cocoa and those chocolate croissants you like so much. Private Crowley, make yourself useful and get the baby that high chair from the corner."

"Yessir!" Anthony said with a mock salute.

With not a second to spare for a single thought, Ezra was handed Adam as Antony turned on his heel and the older man disappeared in the direction of the espresso machine. He had no choice but to sit down in the booth that was pointed out to him. It wasn't long before Anthony returned with the high chair and took Adam back from him to place him in it. Ezra was still a bit dazed when Anthony came to sit down next to him, but one question burned on his tongue.

"Why did you bring me here?" Ezra asked quietly. "Did you know he knew my parents?" he hissed, but Anthony only raised his hands in self-defense.

"Scout's honor. I had no idea."

"Then why?" Ezra leveled a look at Anthony that made the man squirm in his seat.

"I don't know. I just… look, my mum was in school with madam Tracy— Marjorie. His wife, who runs this shop with him. They were best friends. I just come here because I felt at home here after she, that's to say my mum… you know. I was gonna come here even if you hadn't tagged along, but you did."

'Of course,' Ezra thought. Despite being almost a decade younger, Anthony had been through all of this before five years ago. And if Ashtoreth and Marjorie were really as close as he thought, then visiting the bakery would be the next best thing to—

"Marvels of the universe," mr. Shadwell commented as he sat down at the table with them, placing a tray of baked sweets and three mugs of cocoa in front of them. "In my opinion at least. I'm a firm believer that things happen for a reason."

"Dunno, sarge. Sounds like a load of horseshit to me," Anthony said mopily and took a sip from his cocoa, gasping and hissing as he burned his tongue.

Mr. Shadwell laughed out loud and even Ezra cracked a smile. "Careful, my dear," he said before taking a sip on his own, finding the cocoa comfortably warm, but not enough to hurt. "Mr. Shadwell, I don't say this lightly, but I believe your cocoa might be the best I've ever had. Thank you so much. For everything."

"Don't mention it. Return customers get special privileges, even on their first visit."

Ezra nodded, smiling.

"So…" mr. Shadwell started again, unsure in his tone. "Your mother then, passed away recently, has she?"

Ezra nodded, frowning. He felt the lump in his throat steadily returning. "Just last night. I got the call at a quarter past three in the morning." He sniffled. "My siblings are taking care of everything. Making sure the wake is exactly the way she would have wanted it."

"Which leaves you to…?"

"Write the eulogy," Ezra stated simply. "But I try to look at it from the bright side, because that way, at least one of my qualities is being acknowledged in the family."

Mr. Shadwell nodded, peering into his own cocoa as if at the bottom of it lay the answer to life, the universe, everything, before looking back up at Ezra. "I'm sorry," he said. "You seem like a good lad to me, you don't deserve bein' treated like that."

Ezra nodded before rubbing a tear out of his eye. "I'm inclined to agree with you, mr. Shadwell."

"I'm not done yet, son." In an unexpected move, mr. Shadwell reached across the table and took Ezra's hands in his.

Ezra gasped. Even Anthony recoiled.

"I didn't used to be very good about this… you know. In fact, I'm still not very good about it - ever since I met madam Tracy, I've been getting better at it, though. I'm learning."

"Homosexuality, sergeant. You're allowed to say it," Anthony sassed. Ezra would have elbowed him in the side again if he could.

"I said, 'I'm learning'," mr. Shadwell insisted.

Anthony raised his hands as a show of surrender.

"You know, you look about my son's age," mr. Shadwell continued. "He's a carpenter, that one. Give him wood and some nails and he can build anything. He's got a loving wife, excitable kids and most importantly, he's happy. And I'm so proud of him. Now look at yourself, Ezra. You're a writer, you create entire worlds just with words. You've got yourself a loving… Crowley and you have little Adam,"

'For all of two days,' Ezra pointedly didn't say.

"And I would be so, so proud of you if you were my son. Because from what I've seen and heard, you two are happy as can be together. And… I know I'm not your father, much less your mother, but Marjorie always says that kind of thing can be just as meaningful coming from another parent and I'm so sure she would agree with me that I'm just gonna say that we are proud of you."

The bakery was quiet for a moment, save for the sounds Adam made while he ate his biscuits. Somehow, Ezra's heart felt lighter. He was beginning to see why Anthony felt so at home in this place and with these people.

"Angel?" Anthony said softly.

When Ezra turned towards him, he noticed with a start that Anthony was reaching for his face. A soft, gentle palm came to rest on his cheek as the pad of his thumb stroked at the bags under Ezra's eye. It came away wet. Had he been crying again?

"Ah… I'm sorry. Thank you, my dear. ("No big deal.") And thank you for your kind words as well, mr. Shadwell. But… we've only just met. Are you sure all of that was really... appropriate to say to someone who is practically a stranger to you."

Mr. Shadwell smiled a mischievous smile and patted Ezra's hands before letting them go. "Trust me, lad. The last ten days, Crowley here has been in and out of the shop, waxing poetic about his 'talented, genius forbidden love', this 'ethereal beauty', 'an angel with a heart of gold and a halo of enlightenment'. I guess you could say we were already warmed up to you."

Ezra glanced next to him. Anthony was starting to turn red at the ears. He smiled and took Anthony's hand. "Thank you. Both of you. I can't begin to tell you what this means to me."

They stayed like that for the entire afternoon. Talking about everything and nothing. Mr. Shadwell had scared away what few customers dared to cross the threshold of the bakery, and was about to do so again when an older lady walked in.

"I expected better from you than to turn away customers, mr. S," the woman said with a tinny voice and a smile on her face. "And I hope you didn't forget about date night."

A look of recognition flashed on Anthony's face and he turned in his seat to greet the woman. "Good to see you, madam Tracy. Got the WiFi installed alright?"

This madam Tracy was a charming woman, Ezra could tell. She was no younger than seventy-five, but she wore her wrinkles, as well as a brightly coloured paisley dress, with the grace and confidence of a queen and the energy she radiated was so powerful that a sun might as well have walked into the shop.

"I believe I did, Anthony," she said as she walked up to the table and greeted Adam with a gentle stroke over his golden curls. "Hello, little prince."

Anthony took a deep breath and turned to her again. "Madam Tracy, I'd like for you to meet Ezra. He's my, er," he hesitated, glancing at Ezra.

The realization hit Ezra like a brick to the face. The B-word. No one had said it. No one had made it, as it were, 'official'. It normally wasn't like Anthony to hesitate like this, but given the current situation, as well as a slew of previous situations*, Ezra understood he might still have some reservations.

(*As detailed in Day 4.)

Ezra laced his fingers with Anthony's in reassurance and spoke up. "I'm his boyfriend."

A sound left Anthony and his face reddened as madam Tracy clasped her hands together.

"Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you, dearie. I don't know why I expected you to be younger. Anthony has always had a thing for older men."

Anthony hid his face in his free hand. "Oh my God…"

"Marjorie," mr. Shadwell spoke up, turning to madam Tracy. "Ezra and Crowley here have had a pretty rough start to their day, what do you say we treat them to dinner?"

"Oh no—" Anthony started to protest.

"We couldn't," Ezra said, joining in.

"You can and you will," madam Tracy insisted.

Mr. Shadwell got up and gestured for Ezra and Anthony to do the same as madam Tracy lifted Adam from his chair. "Come on, lads. You heard the boss, up you get."

Now, Ezra had read before that family isn't necessarily the cards you're dealt at birth. It's also the choices you make along the way and the people you keep close to yourself. Ezra had never quite felt it before in the way he did tonight, sitting next to the man he loved most in the world and the child that had brought them together, and across from proud parents that weren't necessarily theirs, but were there anyway.

And even though he wasn't sure what tomorrow would bring, he knew there would be no more sadness today.