Chapter Text
She doesn’t mean to be all stalker-like. According to Nina and Maggie, she isn’t. It’s perfectly normal to like someone, and it’s perfectly normal to want to talk to them. Crow had grown up with everyone surrounding her liking someone, like liking, and she had thought her time would come sooner or later.
And it did. She couldn’t help looking through the window by the table she was sitting at, nursing a piping hot cup of coffee (courtesy of Nina, 6 shots of espresso and nothing else), eyes glued to the bookshop. Surprisingly, she’d gotten back to the coffeeshop quickly, and she could see the woman's (Aziraphale, according to Nina’s girlfriend, Maggie) reaction. Crow took a moment to admire the outfit she was wearing and how well it suited her. She wasn’t very into fashion, especially not the stereotypical women's fashion, since she mostly wore oversized band tees and leather jackets, trousers and Doc Martens, but she could appreciate when clothes went from simply pieces of cloth to outfits. It was a silly thing, and she was aware of it.
Crow calls Nina over with a twitch of her hand, raising it slightly. It’s a horribly rude way to ask her to walk to her table, but they’ve been friends for long enough that she’ll forgive it (the same way Crow forgives it every time Nina rambles about her ”beautiful amazing lovely girlfriend Maggie”).
“Nina?”
“Mh.” Is her response. She’s holding the pot of coffee in her hands, and without asking, refills Crows cup. She smiles at that, but it’s all teeth, more an instinct than a thanks.
“What’s her deal?” Crow then realizes that Nina probably has no clue who she’s talking about, and, though she thinks she’s been quite obvious with the staring, maybe the other woman just didn’t notice. She does lead a busy life, busy enough to not care about the others infatuations and silly feelings.
“Aziraphale’s? You like her, don’t you?” Nina grins at that, copying Crows’ all teeth smile. “Well, she’s the owner of that bookshop, and she’s single, according to Mags. Bored, too.”
That makes the redhead pause. The bookshop is beautiful, matching the owner, but it seems old and too much of a hassle to organise by herself. And it doesn’t fit that she’s single, not with how beautiful she is and how good of a person she seems (both made up by her own mind and also by the conversations she’s had with Maggie).
“Hn. Thank you,” Crow finally looks up at Nina, who gives an actual smile, and goes back to the register.
There’s a song playing by the speakers she doesn’t know, a song that sounds to be about religion but probably isn’t. She was never too into religion. Not that she hates it, but her parents had been… very interested, to say the least, in making her a carbon copy of them, and she hadn’t liked that (obviously). When she was 17, with the money she had saved up from numerous birthdays and various jobs, she went to a friends house. Crow hadn’t even told her parents she was queer, not that she’d want to anyway.
She’d come a long way from then, and it showed in her relationship with her friend(s? Maggie could be a friend, right?) and with how she presented herself, less afraid to express herself, lesbian pins on basically every jacket she owned, hair a bright red, shoulder-length and wavy.
Crow remembers feeling a bit trapped, though she had been the one to ask them to meet. They were in her apartment, the three of them, which felt like the world at the moment (if only a certain blonde angelic looking woman was there too…), Nina and Maggie on the sofa, whilst she sat in the loveseat, looking between them uncertainly, fiddling with her hands. Her nerves couldn’t be more noticeable. The couple in front of her thought it was adorable, the way she was getting nervous over a woman she didn’t know.
The bottle of red wine, a 1921 Châteauneuf de Pas, was half empty, courtesy of (mostly) Crow. She couldn’t help it, the stress was getting to her!
..Right, she may have some kind of tiny little drinking problem, but nothing happened when she got drunk (mostly). If anything, she’d spill all her feelings to her friend and her girlfriend, and if they were particularly mean, they’d take her to see the lovely blonde woman.
“Okay. Right. Yes.” Crow takes a deep breath and a swig of the wine, and puts the glass down. “How do I tell her?”
“You don’t tell her immediately, I don’t think.” Nina says, looking away with a huff. “At least I wouldn’t.”
“What? Why? Aren’t you-” she gestured towards Maggie vaguely with her hand “-all about love and telling people how you feel?”
Maggie took a deep breath and seemed a bit perplexed for a few seconds. “Well, I’d say yes, but I think you’re going too fast.”
Too fast. Crow hated that expression. She never went too fast for anybody, people just couldn’t keep up. She’d had countless people say that to her, and it wasn’t ever for a good reason. It was clear, looking at her face, now crumpled up, that that comment had angered her. “Too fast my arse! I never go too-”
Nina stopped her. “Crow.” She rests her hand on Crow’s own, softening just the slightest bit. “We think you shouldn’t tell her right now because.. well, you don’t really know her, do you? And of course you can like her without knowing her, but I doubt she’s seen you ogling at her.”
“I do not-”
“Regardless. I don’t think you should go in without a plan, I know how unmethodical you are, but I really do think it’d be good to figure out what you’re going to say.”
“What about getting her flowers?” Maggie cut in, beaming. “I love flowers, and I remember that when any old partners or friends got them for me, I would swoon. I’m sure she’d like that! They’d spruce up the bookshop, if anything.”
“Flowers?”
“Awh, you could even use different flowers for different things! I’m sure she has some book on flowers and their meanings!”
Crow frowns at that, her face crumpling up in that odd way it always did. “That sounds a bit prissy.”
“Yes, but romantic!” Crow watches as Maggie practically swoons, leaning against Nina, who seems to get the hint and wraps her arm around her, mentally remembering to get her flowers later, probably.
Nina nods a bit. “I agree, actually.” She seems surprised at that, even if she’s the one agreeing. “It’s a fun way to hint that you like her without expressing anything verbally.
Crow quietly nods, closing her eyes and putting her head in her hands. “Right. So I’m getting her flowers.”
The next day, with a quick drink, and a trip to the flowershop next door, she found herself back at Nina’s coffee shop, seeing her girlfriend swoon over the flowers she had got her. She rolls her eyes but says nothing, smiling at the fact that they’re so happy together, shoving the bouquet in their faces.
“This is good, yeah?”
“Perfect!” Maggie says, happily (probably moreso because of her own flowers, but oh well).
“She’ll like it.” Is all that Nina adds.
Okay. Well, they’ll have to communicate in flower language, Crow supposes.