Work Text:
Believe it or not, a drizzly Monday afternoon in a closed bookshop in Soho offers considerable opportunities for a demon between jobs.
There hadn’t been any sign of a new assignment from Hell on the heels of a successful temptation involving embezzlement two weeks ago which Crowley delighted in finishing off with his customary flourish of ensuring that the spread of the stolen funds resulted in a few more sins of personal greed and lust. Highly efficient demonic work if he did say so himself. Had there been some sort of bell to ring or a thermometer that went ding when the rising mercury inside ticked over the acquisition of another hell bound soul, there would have been ringing for miles in every hellish direction.
For now, however, Crowley was content to rummage around the back wall of the shop while Aziraphale enjoyed his inventory and rearrangement of the classics section. You could tell he was enjoying it from the humming, never one for a tidy room, Heaven was far too fond of large, empty, echoing spaces and Aziraphale was decidedly NOT a fan of their interior design concept. He did however seem to enjoy rearranging his book hoard into ever more befuddling displays of knowledge and esoterica, there was no science behind it, governed as it was by the whims of an extremely knowledgeable angel who had read just about every volume of everything ever written and contrived all means possible of avoiding selling this knowledge to anyone who might wander in off the street. This latest rearrangement was presumably another manifestation of his will to retain his stock the next time he couldn’t put off opening the shop any longer.
After a while, Crowley decided he’d take a nap, he wasn’t too fussy as to where, floor, ceiling, comfy old sofa it was all good. Nice warm beam of sunlight coming through the window right where he was sitting, he thought he’d just rest his eyes for a bit when, leaning back against the wall, he let his head fall back and heard a click just as he was about to drift off. He hoped it wasn’t him. After 6,000 years, he supposed even his corporation might make the odd noise but when he felt a chilly draught on his neck, he decided he wasn’t that tired after all and following a gasp of delight at a secret and hitherto undiscovered passageway, Crowley crept quietly off up the surprise secret stairs to find himself in a bedroom of all things, coming out right next to the fireplace. He hadn’t meant to wind up in what must be Aziraphale’s flat above the shop but here he was nonetheless.
Curious creature he may be but out of deference to his best friend, he decided he wouldn’t go snooping and restrict his exploration only to include what was already out on display. One thing already out on display was a Chateauneuf du Pape. What was it doing up here? Had Aziraphale brought it up with him for a little nighttime reading treat and forgot to open it? He’d take it down and see if he could persuade the angel to terminate his inventory and settle in for the evening. He’d order in anything Aziraphale wanted for dinner, and dessert. It’d be great, they could get roaring drunk, starting with this bottle and then he could watch Aziraphale enjoy dinner and dessert. The angel was always less self conscious once he’d had a few drinks inside him. With a roguish grin, he tucked the bottle under his arm and headed for the stairs. As he descended he frowned, he could hear voices and….oh shit, that tell tale whiff of… ozone. There were other Angels in the shop, aaahhh Fuck! Still, it seemed luck hadn’t quite deserted him yet. Discovering that hiding place had literally been a lifesaver. Going down the last couple of stairs, he was relieved to see that the secret door had fully closed behind him leaving his hiding place undetected and Crowley in the dark.
Being possessed of excellent night vision, the lack of light didn’t bother Crowley in the least and as his eyes adjusted, he made out through the small cracks of light around the door the forms of two angels standing in front of Aziraphale who was currently chattering nervously about the weather. The tall angel with broad shoulders and the transatlantic twang had to be Gabriel, the absolute tosser which meant the angel beside him was Sandalphon, confirmed a minute later by his nasal tones and lack of wit. He made Gabriel laugh but that probably wasn’t difficult. Crowley’s eyes twinkled in the dark, he had to get rid of these celestial carbuncles before they upset Aziraphale and ruined his recently hatched plans for a damn fine evening.
His first idea was to make the bookshop seem haunted, try and spook them out but, remembering how easily children (OK, him as well, may as well be honest about it) were amused by rude noises, he figured he’d have a little fun at the archangels expense too.
As their footsteps drifted closer he blew a soft raspberry, hand flying to cover his mouth as Sandalphon looked around in apparent bemusement and checked the sole of one shoe and then the other in case he’d stepped on something. Once Gabriel moved his oversized head out of the way, he could see Aziraphale’s lovely face, currently nibbling on his lower lip and wringing his hands fretfully. He couldn’t see the finer details but Aziraphale was the fretful sort in the company of Heaven’s self-appointed ambassadors, he remembered as much from when the bookshop was first opened to the public and he’d wandered by with flowers and chocolates in hand.
What had they been saying to him? He set his jaw and moved on with his plan. He couldn’t afford any miracles, he had to remain undetected but he had a whole army of sound effects at his disposal having hung onto his phone.
Next, safe in his hiding place, he decided to try a creaking floorboard. This got Gabriel frowning in puzzlement as he tested his footing, Crowley, peeking out of the cracks played it once more, relishing the archangels transparent confusion.
Aziraphale, ever a conscientious host, had been moved to offer tea which both the other angels declined but Aziraphale decided he’d like a cup, possibly with something stronger than tea in it, and hoped to goodness that Crowley had gotten out in time and was safely elsewhere.
As Sandalphon sat down there was a tremendous trumpeting noise but not, alas, the trumpets that call other, more obedient angels home to Heaven, oh no. This particular trumpeting noise was one of resounding human flatulence.
Eyes wide, Gabriel turned to his angelic cohort in slow horror while Sandalphon turned brick red.
“Sandalphon, buddy, what the…have you been consuming… gross matter?”
“No! No, you know I don’t eat human food. It wasn’t me! Really!”
“You sure about that because that sounded like…I’ve only heard it a few times but that sounded just like a human with …the wind.”
Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, unnoticed by the archangels gawping at each other, suddenly sure of Crowley’s current location. Then, as a few more fluting, parping notes sounded, he closed his eyes, pressed his lips together and prayed for deliverance lest he discorporate from holding in his mirth. Crowley, sitting on the stairs in the dark was in no better case. Worse in fact since he was rocking backwards and forwards, silently huffing laughs, tears streaking his cheeks, cheeks now as red as his hair.
Gabriel stood up, hair neat and brow furrowed “Well, we’d best be getting back upstairs I guess, I’ll expect your report in two days Aziraphale. C’mon Sandalphon, maybe the healers can sort you out but ah…separate lifts on the way up, okay?”
“It wasn’t me, honestly.”
“What is it the humans say? ‘He who denied it, supplied it? It sure as heck wasn’t me!”
With one last parp and a look of utter confusion and misery, Sandalphon followed Gabriel out of the shop and down the street, neither of them looking back until they disappeared around the corner at the end of the block.
After a minute, Aziraphale followed the faint wheezing sounds to the rear of the shop and tapped three times on the door before pushing in just the right place and revealing Crowley sprawled over the bottom few steps, one long hand resting on his stomach and golden eyes shining with merriment.
“You FIEND!! I could have discorporated holding that in a moment longer! What on EARTH did you think you were doing?”
“I’m sure Sandy felt the same Angel” he laughed again, wincing at the pull of his muscles. “Ahh c’mon, it’s about time we got a laugh out of those pompous bastards. They’ve had you on the run enough times, it was too good to resist the opportunity to get them on the run back upstairs. Good riddance!”
Aziraphale pursed his lips, trying hard to fend off a grin that he promptly lost the battle to conceal. “Oh, alright. I suppose it was rather enjoyable to see them squirm a little. Well played my dear. Perhaps we should celebrate a little, since you’re here. I’m not sure I fancy going out though, what would you say to ordering in and opening that bottle you have there?”
“Great idea angel, was going to suggest the same thing m’self. I can’t believe you never told me about that secret passageway before!” His eyes were full of mock betrayal, not in the least convincing, even with the theatrical pout.
I rather forgot it was there until you reminded me today. Wait till you find out about the lift from the upstairs kitchen to the basement. Oh no!”
Crowley’s eyes lit up like a bonfire as he tore back through the passageway, up the stairs and engaged the groaning but still functional machinery that took him down to the basement and back up again before emerging triumphantly, with cobwebs on each knee and another 3 bottles of wine to start the party. Rolling his eyes fondly, Aziraphale telephoned their dinner order through, attacked Crowley with his feather duster and thought about how much he loved having him in his life. Everything was more fun when Crowley was around.
The End 🥰