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He strolled in through the door of his Soho bookshop- The bell sounding in response. Aziraphale marvelled at the way the old well-worn wooden floorboards did not so much as creak under the pressure; That was the influence of divinity at work. He could not remember when he bought the bookshop, now named A.Z Fell & Co. Sometime in the Victorian period near the beginning of Her Majesty’s Reign. His shoulders relaxed as he wandered through the labyrinth of shelves all lined with books every one free from dust. The familiar smell of old paper and dry wood coming from every direction.
He returned to the front of the book shop as the bell chimed once again after he saw who it was, he beamed in reply.
“Hello dear”.
Crowley politely replied a thing that should be incapable of someone of his character. “Hello Angel, how are you?”. Crowley wandered around to pull the blinds down,
“I’m well, any new assignments from down below?” Aziraphale looked at him puzzled but had a hint of why he was doing it but you could never be certain with those yellow, silted eyes, giving no hint of intention or emotion. He disappeared and a large black iridescent snake laid in the place Crowley was previously standing.
“Dear, are you trying to scare off the customers?” he asked with a slight query; he was coming to accept that even though he owned a book ‘shop’ it was more of a book ‘store’ as he could never come to sell any of the inhabitants,
“Well, you never sssell anything anywayssss…” Crowley hissed, as he slithered along the rough wooden floor, up the even older cabinet using the square draws as steps and onto the countertop and decided to sun himself on the till in full view of the one door without a blind. Aziraphale looked at him, memories of Guarding the Eastern gate of Eden flooded back, as their first meeting played back in his mind-him sheltering himself, and the then Crawley, under his pure glissading white wings as the first rain fell over them.
“Where are you going, Angel?” Crowley asked with a hint of disappointment,
“Do you want a drink?” Aziraphale pondered if Crowley could drink as a snake and decided he would soon find out.
“That sssoundss nicce.” he wondered if it would be wine or water, as he really fancied a nice red, his question was answered as Aziraphale picked him up. He wound himself around the perfectly manicured hands of the Angel, twisting to and fro around the wrists as well,
“Stop squirming-” Aziraphale tried to say but was interrupted with him busting out into a fit of giggles that sounded like they came from a young schoolgirl.
“Sssorry, your laugh is ssso funny.” he tried to twist his face into a grin, but then realised he didn’t have the facial muscles and it just looked more like his normal snakey face with his eyes closed.
He was sharply deposited on the seat opposite to Aziraphale, the small ancient coffee table in between them, stained with more wine than coffee and an even older bottle of red wine and a pair of crystal glasses lay on it now.
Aziraphale couldn’t be bothered with a corkscrew for the wine and miracled it open with a wave of his hand.
Crowley looked at him, unblinking golden eyes, a really odd sight to have a snake staring at you from across a table. Zira began to feel a tad uncomfortable his worn beige waistcoat, washed out pale blue shirt, beige suit jacket coupled with a lighter blue and beige floppy bow tie.
“Angel, sssloth doesssn’t look good on you.” a cheeky voice came from a head resting on the edge of the table,
“Oh, be quiet. Do you know how strange it’s to have a snake staring at you?” Zira spoke with his usual conviction of a person (or supernatural being) that absolutely did not care if you tried to insult them and would brush it off without a slightest thought.
Within a moment there was no longer the large iridescent black snake in the chair opposite; a human-shaped figure with the golden eyes of a snake, the chair creaked with the sudden influx of weight on its ancient legs.
“Come on we ought to finish this wine a few times over by midnight.”
Crowley said that a 6 pm, after 6 hours of drinking the same bottle of wine at least 7 times over, in that familiar backroom after moving onto the old leather sofa (that gratefully received them), and some very odd conversations from a personal viewpoint about Ancient Rome and then onto the Egyptians of the same era, they both fell asleep. Not to wake up until the next day and continue as normal without the slightest hangover at all. The benefits of immortally and some angelic and demonic abilities alike.