Chapter Text
London, 1933
He finally made up his mind.
After a week of watching and courting me, I finally see him talking to one of W.O.'s men. He points at me.
Today, too, he wears his usual dark glasses on his nose, a refined black suit, a hat of the same colour and a dark red tie, matching the sideburns that can be glimpsed under his headgear. However, he is also carrying an elegant suitcase, which I see him handing to the man. He is certainly a businessman. This city where I was born seems to be full of them.
They stop talking. They shake hands.
It is done.
Walking towards me, the strange man has a supple gait that I have not often seen among the patrons of this dealership. He looks at me. I feel something warming around the engine.
"Otherwise, further on there is a car that arrived just this morning, freshly tested. At the same price, of course, Mr Crowley."
"No, thank you. I prefer her."
He approaches me. So my owner will be called Crowley.
He strokes me gently with one hand, opens the door with the other and then sits down. He is very light for being so tall. The other man comes up to him and lays out the basic information on how to best pilot me. Crowley nods impatiently. He seems to be looking forward to travelling with me. We will definitely get along well.
After a nod to the salesman, Crowley starts me off.
The gesture with which he turns my lever is so natural and spontaneous that it seems as if he has done nothing else for years. I am definitely not his first car.
"And yet you are the first. I've never driven a car before. So let's take it easy today."
I remain speechless. None of the workers or testers ever spoke to me. Not even W.O. when he personally tested me. So humans talk to their cars?
"Definitely not everyone and then definitely I’m not... We'll talk about everything more calmly. Now we have our first trip to tackle. We're going to Edinburgh, ready?"
The journey, although long, proceeds smoothly.
Crowley often smiles, sometimes caresses me, chuckles. He lavishes me with compliments.
"What a wonder you are, nothing but horses, carriages, stinking trains. You are a real gem." I feel that warm feeling in the engine again.
At times he seems to guide me with just his gaze and all the way along I incredibly feel my tank always full. I don't understand what kind of driver Crowley is, but without a doubt I feel more than lucky.
I never seem to get tired.
We travel at night, I see him put his glasses and hat on the passenger seat and carry on as if he sees even better than during the day.
He performs the last devilry when we arrive in Scotland the next morning and it starts raining insistently: my glass incredibly never gets wet, my tyres continue on the perfectly dry road.
Crowley would certainly be a great inventor, he is wasted as a businessman.
We arrive in Edinburgh in the afternoon, he parks me near the station.
He doesn't get out right away. I hear him breathing uncertainly, nervously drumming on the steering wheel with his fingertips, he seems undecided about when to open the door and get out.
"I'll pick up a friend. Stay parked here and ngk... Behave yourself."
He opens the door and slips out almost crawling. He doesn't even stretch a little, I see him disappear hips behind the large station doors.
Friend? The trip was so quick and non-stop that I thought it was an urgent business trip. His friend must certainly be an important man.
A few minutes later I see Crowley reappear accompanied by a man less tall than him, walking upright and wearing a light-coloured suit, a beige hat and a tartan bow tie.
"You can't imagine how happy I am to have met you here, Crowley. I proudly managed to obtain at auction the copy of that volume I was telling you about a few months ago, but because of the storm last night a problem has arisen on some sections of track. I'm afraid the train service will be back to normal tomorrow, but at least you are here too. I'd buy you a drink if I hadn't spent it all on the book."
"Don't bother, Angel. I was just passing by. The usual quick temptation, you know."
They approach me.
"But, instead of waiting until tomorrow. How would you like a lift home?"
He points at me, tilting his head. The black hat shifts, showing his perfectly combed tawny hair. Even from a distance I realise that my owner is no longer breathing.
"You actually bought a car, Crowley?! Good Lord, but it really is a beauty!"
Crowley's irises that I glimpse above his glasses return to ordinary size, his lips stretch, I feel him inhale.
"Do you really like it?"
"Absolutely! Was this the surprise you alluded to?"
The man Crowley called Angel approaches. His gaze falls on my logo. Gently he touches the pale wings on either side of the B. His hands are warm and soft too. Again that warm feeling in the engine.
"This is incredible Crowley, how long have you owned this little gem?"
"Since a... since a while. But let's go now, it might start raining again."
Crowley approaches the passenger door and opens it for his guest, who smiles sweetly and sits down softly.
"Oh, thank you dear.”
The first few minutes pass in silence, the passenger watches with interest every gesture Crowley makes to guide me, then begins to observe my every detail, touching the seat, the window, the lever.
"Is this your addition, Crowley?"
"No, standard equipment. Are you in the mood for a... travel sweet?"
Out of nowhere between the two men appears a glass jar containing small clear objects.
"Of course, thank you." The second man's smile seems to light up my cockpit as if one of my headlights was mounted inside. I like him a lot, too.
He conveys a serene and joyful aura. Moreover, an atmosphere spreads between the two that I have never felt before, it seems full of electricity.
A few hours later Angel takes off his hat, showing an almost white hair with platinum blond highlights, clears his throat and seems to address me.
"How rude, I haven't introduced myself yet. I am Aziraphale, I've known your master, Crowley, for about five..."
"Owner, Aziraphale, not master, my Bentley is not a horse. Besides, there is no need for all these formalities."
I instinctively slow down.
Crowley presses the accelerator pedal.
I object.
My owner looks at the pedals from behind. "What angelry is this?"
“It seems clear to me that this beautiful car likes formalities instead,” Aziraphale laughs amused.
I am sure I will get along very well with him too, I understand my beloved owner well. I also like this angel very much.