How very peculiar, Aziraphale had mused to himself as he read the brief invitation. It barely occurred to him to wonder how he got there. The invitation had held no location, yet as he stepped out of his bookshop, he simply seemed to know where to go. There had been little consideration in accepting the summons; invitations often meant delicacies, or at least some sort of beverage. He was therefore far from disappointed when the table of food and wine appeared in the middle of the room.
As he greedily eyed the table, he noticed something else out of the corner of his eye. A bright, sparkling light. As he stared, he realized that something felt familiar about it. As if he'd encountered it before. A little deduction on the angel's part told him what, or rather, who, the strange light was. With a nod that indicated acknowledgment but not necessarily joy at the recognition, Aziraphale turned his attention to the table again.
He did so enjoy sushi. And calamari. And stewed plums. And pudding. He began to fill a small plate, finally looking around to see who else was in attendance.