Chapter Text
The Bookshop grew to like Crowley but it was a very rocky start between the two of them. It had been under the ownership of Aziraphale for nearly 100 years before the demon even came near to entering the building. At that point of time the angel and demon weren't in contact with one another as often as they are these days and they had not spoken at all for the last 25 years since Crowley asked for the Holy Water so when the day came that he approached the steps of the shop to call in on Aziraphale The Bookshop found it quite amusing that he could do little more than knock on the door to gain his attention. It was a Thursday afternoon; the shop was open. Any human customer could simply walk straight in if they wished to speak with the bookkeeper but the demon at the door was forced to stay outside, not welcome within its walls. Even when Aziraphale came to the door to greet him they both stepped out onto the street to speak instead of inviting him inside. The Bookshop was unaware of what they spoke of that day, its ability to tune into Aziraphale at a distance hadn't developed yet, but it didn't mind. It had no need to pay attention to Aziraphale's personal day to day matters that were of no consequence to Heaven.
However the next time Crowley approached The Bookshop was a bit of a different matter. Only a few years later now in late November of 1899. He and Aziraphale had already been socialising with each other and were approaching the shop side by side, Aziraphale talking quite quickly about whatever had him so animatedly gesturing with his hands as he walked, jogging up the steps of the building with a hop in his step and pushing against the door, letting himself in. He immediately started looking through his shelves for the book that would back up the case he was trying to make. Crowley had walked behind him at a slower pace. More of a saunter than a walk. By the time he reached the steps and the threshold the door had begun to gently close; at his approach the door swung itself fully closed with a much greater force than it should have been able to, effectively slamming in his face so hard it knocked his top hat from his head and he had to turn to retrieve it before starting at the shop in judgement. "Aziraphale!" He called "Your shop won't let me in!" His volume increasing with each word before culminating in a loud yell.
"Sorry!" Aziraphale shouted as he came trotting back to open the door again. The shop hoped they would finish their conversation on the doorstep again but unfortunately its angel had other ideas. "I forgot you can't just come in. My fault of course. So… er… how do I let you in?" Ah so they had never done this before, maybe the demon wouldn't know either and then they could all just avoid the notion of said demon entering this outpost of Heaven.
"You just say, 'come on in' and that should do it." Well… fiddlesticks. That didn't go to plan.
"Ah wonderful! Well then come on in, my friend!" Oh why was it's angel sounding so cheerful about this? Why does he seem so content to socialise with those types of creatures? Let one into its very own shop?
“Ha ha!” The demon chuckled as he stepped across the threshold for the first time, a grin spreading across his face. Great. He was in, no stopping him now. The door slammed shut with a force that had never been used before as the two figures made their way into the open space, the one in white turning back to it with a look of concern as the one in black sauntered around taking it all in. “Wowie, doing well for yourself Angel aren’t you?”
“Hu… what?” The angel in question turned back to him “Oh thank-you. Yes it is a very lovely space isn’t it.
“Phwoooh!” The other whistled before plopping himself down rather unceremoniously on a couch occupying the space. How rude! Acting as if he owned the place, treating it with such disrespect. Aziraphale should put him in his place, demand some respect, demand he leave even perhaps but… is he? Is Aziraphale… smiling? What could he be smiling about? This demon swanning all over their home?
“Here you go.” The angel said as he passed a large glass of wine to the demon. Great. This was going to be a long night.
Unfortunately the next visit the demon made to The Bookshop came around far quicker than the second had. December 31st 1899. The end of another century. The celestial duo had decided to spend the turning of the planet with one another, drinking once again and reminiscing over all their escapades since the Garden Of Eden. This night was even longer than the last he spent here, he didn’t leave. He lay across The bookshops' furniture, leaned on its counters, put glasses down on wooden surfaces without a coaster underneath, everything he did was so irritating to the shop! It felt a shiver in its foundations each time he found a new way to cause it irritation.
As the hours crept by and the empty bottles built up the shop's frustrations came to a head. When Crowley lazily leant against a pile of stacked books in the corner it had had enough! Swiping the largest book from the middle of the pile out caused the books above it to thud down and with the weight of the demon the whole pile then clattered to the ground. Causing Crowley to fall to the floor too and spill his glass of red wine down himself and the floor as he went.
“Ngk” Came a grown from the pile on the floor.
“Crowley! Are you alright my dear? What happened?” Aziraphale stumbled over him slowly, held back by the alcohol in his celestial system.
“I dunno.” He grumbled, taking Aziraphale’s hand to help him stand up. “I’m on the floor.”
“Yes you are. I think we both may have had a bit too much to drink, don’t you?” There was another stumble as the shorter angel pulled the taller demon up to a standing position. “Might be time to sober up aye? The sun will be rising soon.”
“Mmhmm… Yes s’pose you’re right.” And soon those bottles weren’t so empty anymore.
Aziraphale walked Crowley to the door to bid their farewells. They stood on the top step of the shop and looked out over the buildings on the other side of the road. Daylight was just breaking through the clouds of the night. The new day beginning.
“Happy 20th Century Angel”
“Blessed 20th Century Crowley” The angel smiled then turned back to enter the shop as the demon stepped down onto the street and walked out into the wider London, the door closing once again with quite some force.
The 20th Century brought Crowley to The Bookshop more and more as the decades wore on. Once or twice in the early years, a few in the 10’s, a number of times in the 20’s and 30’s to the point that by the time the 40’s rolled around it wasn’t unusual to see the red headed demon lounging about the place multiple times a month. Each time The Bookshop tried to make its feelings towards the demon felt as best as it could. Doors closing as he approached them to enter another room, books falling from higher shelves directly above where he was stood, chairs not being in quite the exact position he thought they were as he went to sit down in them. Small things, nothing Aziraphale wasn’t quick to dismiss if Crowley ever brought it up to him - although Aziraphale was perfectly aware of his shop's behaviour towards his friend, he didn’t need to know that - but enough that Crowley was aware the building didn’t like him. Not that it had the desired effect at all, what was meant to deter the demon from coming to the heavenly realm of the shop actually served to egg him on to be there more and more. See how far the shop was willing to go to get rid of him, seeing how far he could push his luck before it really kicked off at him.
Crowley would move some books around on their shelves and when he turned to walk away one would hit him on the back of the head and land at his feet.
He would close one set of curtains in the middle of the day then find himself unable to move the curtains at all the next time he tried.
He has never been able to make himself a nice tasting cup of coffee at The Bookshop, no matter how many times he tries.
It should anger him. Should piss him off so badly he never returns and yet for some reason he keeps coming back! The Bookshop has exhausted each option it could think of to get rid of the creature yet as each decade passed he returned more and more. It did not understand him.
Or it didn’t understand him, that all changed when the not-pocalypse came. Hearing the angel and the demon argue on the street, hearing Crowley say he was leaving and that he won’t ever think about Aziraphale again. Surprisingly this saddened The Bookshop. It wasn’t really sure how to describe the feeling it had about Crowley leaving but it suspected it stemmed from how Aziraphale felt about it. The words of the kind stranger doing nothing to help either one of them from this feeling. What the shop did know was that it felt the absence of the demon within its walls.
Aziraphale was gone. Forced to step into the summoning circle. Bloody circle thought The Bookshop. It was only there so it could qualify as an official outpost of Heaven on Earth, it hadn't ever been active before and the one and only time it is the shops dear angel is taken from it. The human scurried away fast enough, slamming the door behind him.
Clunk
The candle stick fell. There was nothing the shop could do about it, even it couldn't defy the wind, and so the candle rolled till it came in contact with a unit and the papers at the foot of it.
Whoosh
The papers caught and in moments the flames began to grow. The books, the wooden shelves, the curtains and furniture. In minutes the majority of the contents of The Bookshop was alight and burning and there was nothing it could do about it. Aziraphale was gone. The circle was closed. Heaven was done with the shop on the corner and its ability to help itself was depleting quickly though it remained aware. The shop understood what was happening, could almost feel the heat in its bricks but there was nothing it could do about it but listen to the kind humans outside attempt futilely to extinguish the flames.
There was another sound amongst them, something very familiar. “Do I look like I run a bookshop?” Crowley! He had come back! The shop had thought he would have left the planet by now after his last conversation with Aziraphale but here he was.
“Aziraphale!” He called “Aziraphale! Where the heavens are you, you idiot?” The shop couldn't allow the demon to be discorperated in the same way the angel had been. It forced some of the flames towards him with some of its leftover power which shoved him backwards towards the door.
It had no way of telling Crowley what had happened but he worked it out all the same.
“Yeah, he's gone.”
Aziraphale was gone and the apocalypse was beginning. With its last push of power The Bookshop pushed the book Aziraphale had been studying towards the demon, hoping it would guide him in the direction of Aziraphale’s discoveries.
There was nothing more it could do to help, not with the fire and definitely not with the troubles yet to come. The apocalypse was here and The Bookshop and the demon both screamed at the loss of their angel.
“Somebody killed my best friend!”