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Aziraphale asked Crowley if he would mind looking after the shop for him. He had an appointment with one of his rare book dealers that could not be changed. Besides Wednesday were historically one of his slower days in the shop.
“Perhaps it’s because you don’t have clearly stated hours, angel?” Crowley suggested from his usual spot on the couch in the back.
“No, I don’t think that’s the reason at all.”*
Crowley rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Right, so am I allowed to sell anything?”
Aziraphale looked around and sighed. He really hated to sell anything in the shop. However, Adam had provided some new things that he could bear to part with. The children’s section, for example. Although… there were some first editions there he did not wish to lose, such as the Crompton books. “No first editions. None of my signed copies.” Really there was very little he wanted to part with. His shop was more like his private library and less like a shop.
“So, just the children’s books then eh?”
“Well, anything with a price tag.** If they have to ask the price, it isn’t for sale. How about that?” Now he was second-guessing himself. “Look, I won’t be out more than two hours, I… I can just open late.” He wrung his hands.
Crowley swung his legs off the couch, resting his hands on his knees. “Trust me, I can handle it for two hours.”
“Very well, the shop opens in ten minutes. I’ll be back in two hours, three at most.” The shop had survived a fire, so surely it could survive Crowley in charge for two hours? Aziraphale hoped it could. He bobbed his head at Crowley and made his way to the door. He stopped briefly to check on Rupert. “Keep an eye on him, won’t you dear?” He took his leave and didn’t notice the little half salute from Rupert, the plant.
Crowley stood and cracked his neck. He had little time to prepare before he had to open the shop. The perks of being a demon, however, meant he only needed to snap his fingers to complete this ‘work’. Within seconds, his too-tight jeans, t-shirt, and blazer were replaced with an outfit he hadn’t worn in a bit of time. Taking two strides to the little mirror in the back loo, Crowley adjusted the curls of her slightly longer hair and smaller sunglasses. Straightening the dark tweed jacket and small red bow tie at her neck, Ms. Ashtoreth was ready to open A. Z. Fell for the day.
The first forty-five minutes were dull. No one came in. So Ms. Ashtoreth fiddled with Rupert, the creeping jenny, in the children’s section. It appeared that Aziraphale took rather excellent care of the plant and even that didn’t need minding. It looked as though this would be a rather tedious morning. Then the bell tinkled over the door and a small group of three wandered into the shop.
“I can’t believe we finally caught this place open!” Said one with purple braided hair and a band t-shirt. She appeared to be the one in charge.
“Right? I didn’t think we’d make it while we were here! How many days have we been trying to get in?” The second had a pixie cut, glasses. and plain black dress on.
“Four.” Came the short response from the third, who had his nose in a map and nearly walked into a book display.
“Do mind your step, dear.” Ms. Ashtoreth rested a hand on the young man’s shoulder. Tourists, American, she thought. “Do feel free to look around, but be quiet about it.”
“Uh, yeah sure. Sorry.” He folded his map and tucked it into his back pocket.
“Might I help you find anything particular?” Not that she knew where anything was. Might have been wise to ask Aziraphale about that before he’d ducked out.
The one with the pixie cut and glasses spoke up. “No, thank you. We’re just browsing.” With that, the three of them took off in three different directions.
Ms. Ashtoreth took up a spot near Aziraphale’s desk where she could see all of them. Then the bell tinkled again over the door. A third young woman ran in with a box of pastries and four coffees all with lids not quite tapped down. “Where the fuck are you fuckers?”
“Shhhhh! Language!” Ashtoreth hissed. “No food allowed. Leave it here, please.” She pointed to an empty spot on a nearby table. The young woman did as she was asked and stalked off to find one of her friends.
“Hey, what’s up with resting bitch face?” She muttered to her friend with the purple hair, jerking a thumb toward where the dominering bookseller stood.
“I swear Brianna if you get us thrown out of here I will kick your ass. Shut it!”
The four tourists continued to wander the shop and whisper to one another. Ms. Ashtoreth noted that business picked up as the second hour of the shop’s hours began. She also noticed that she raised her voice several more times to ask for silence from those browsing the shelves. Aziraphale never seemed to have this much trouble. She also overheard the one called Brianna say that she’d like the bookseller to “step on her”… whatever that meant.
Actually, a number of patrons seemed to be paying entirely more attention to her than to the books in the shop. Well, at least Aziraphale would be happy if no books got sold. Which reminded her… glancing at her pocket watch, she noted he should be back at any moment. Just as well, she was tired and the couch was calling again.
As if on cue, the bell tinkled again and Aziraphale walked through the door with two leather cases in each hand, as well as a white box tied with twine. “So how did thin-.” He took in Crowley’s new look. “Oh, good lord.” His shop is rather busy and he does not like it one bit. “Right, we’re closing early today. Everyone out, please.” He stayed by the door to usher everyone out as quickly as possible. “Yes, inconvenient I know… Open tomorrow at noon… Yes, goodbye.” After the last of the group is out, he flipped the sign and locked the door.
Crowley, meanwhile, took the opportunity to change back to his regular self. “Well, that was ‘fun’”
“What the hell were you playing at?” Aziraphale brought his two cases and the box over to the small counter. “And who brought food in here!?”
“Oh fuck! It was those four American tourists. Hold on.” He snapped his fingers and the four coffees and pastry box vanished.*** “I thought I’d have a bit of fun is all. I think everyone enjoyed it.”
Aziraphale just frowned at him. Though he’d be lying if he didn’t like it too. He’d liked it at the Dowling residence too, hadn’t he?
“Look on the bright side! I didn’t sell anything.”
Small favors, but Aziraphale was sure that most of today’s customers would be back tomorrow looking to purchase something, or at the very least to gawk at the female sales associate.
“So, what did you bring back in your pastry box?” Crowley asked with slight curiosity. It was true he hardly ate anything. But there were times he could be tempted.
“Oh, just a little thank you for this morning.” Aziraphale moved so that only the box and small table was standing between them. “Have a look.”
Crowley bent down to open the box. Lifting the lid, he gave a half-smile. “Are… are these Devil’s Food cake?”****
“They are. Shall we?” Aziraphale leaned over the box so his hair nearly brushed Crowley’s.
Both angel and demon reached in for a cupcake and as their hands brushed, they each jerked away. As they brought their heads up, their lips brushed for a fraction of a moment. Enough to spark something in each of them.
Aziraphale flushed red from head to collar. “I’m terribly sorry, my dear. I-“ He stammered and started to back away.
Crowley’s pupils were blown wide beneath his sunglasses. But he thought fast enough to reach out to lightly circle Aziraphale’s wrist with his hand. “No, ‘was nice, angel.” He resisted the urge to laugh as he saw the word ‘Oh’ form on Aziraphale’s mouth. “Wouldn’t mind trying it again. That is… if you wouldn’t?”
The angel simply nodded in agreement. He wasn’t sure he could form words anymore. In fact, he was fairly certain he was a heartbeat away from discorporation. He watched as Crowley collected the box of small cakes and followed him to the back room.
Neither took note of Rupert’s small cheer from his sunny spot in the front window.
**********
* That was the exact reason and they both knew it.
** Such books existed in the shop, believe it or not.
*** And yes, the tourists did nearly shit themselves when the items appeared in the park.
**** No demon could resist.