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As a general rule, Aziraphale did not check his email. He hadn't even remembered creating one. The ancient desktop computer he kept in the backroom of his bookshop had been used solely for doing his taxes each year.
Once, he had used it to search the internet for a particularly rare book, and somehow ended up with an unused inbox, slowly gathering junk mail he never intended to read.
The day in question happened to be one in which Aziraphale was tallying his taxes. By some accident, he opened the shortcut to his long forgotten email. The address, [email protected], had been the logical choice for the bookstore owner. How it came to be known by a Ryan Bergara of Buzzfeed was a mystery to him.
And so, with a feeling of confusion and just a little curiosity, Aziraphale read:
“I am writing to you out of interest in your bookstore. I work for a social media company with a series that investigates unusual phenomena. In the process of my research, I've learned that there have been several strange rumors about your store. With your permission, I and a small crew would like to conduct an investigation of these reports. We will be in London filming a special on Jack the Ripper next month, and would be grateful for an opportunity to meet you in person.”
What followed were Mr. Bergara's offer to email him back if he was interested, and a request to interview him personally about any strange occurrences he may have witnessed himself. Aziraphale was astounded. He had been completely unaware of any rumors circulating about his bookshop. He wondered vaguely if Shadwell blabbed to someone about exorcising a demon with a point of his finger. It was the sort of story that could be very popular in certain magazines. All nonsense, of course. Still, if it had gained the attention of this Mr. Bergara halfway across the world, it could lead to trouble.
He made the mistake of telling Crowley.
“A paranormal investigator!” the serpent exclaimed over wine that night, “You have to invite him over.”
“Absolutely not!” Aziraphale protested.
“Why not? You don't actually think they'll find anything? It could be fun! You could miracle all sorts of spooky sounds and things. Just enough to keep it interesting for them.”
“And if they did find something peculiar? Do you know the kind of trouble it would cause with...”
Aziraphale paused. He was about to say “Gabriel” before he realized that he didn't really answer to the archangel anymore. Still, old habits die hard, and it was difficult to imagine a reality where he didn't have to submit a formal report for every little miracle.
Crowley looked at him over his dark sunglasses, his yellow eyes boring into him, anticipating every thought and objection that might occur to the angel.
“When did the boy say he'd be in town?” he asked.
“I... I am afraid I didn't see his email until just this morning. He and his crew should already be in London by now, filming for their show...”
“Great! Does he have an insta?”
“He... A what?”
“An instagram, angel. I can message him immediately and see if he's still interested.”
“Maybe they've already gone!” Aziraphale stated, grasping at straws. Crowley was feeling invincible after spewing hellfire at Gabriel. Aziraphale knew that he was not.
“Bergara, you said? Nevermind, already found him,” said Crowley.
And it was done. The next Aziraphale knew, he was welcoming a camera crew into his shop and shaking Ryan Bergara's hand.
“Thanks for agreeing to this on short notice,” Ryan said. His smile was slightly uncomfortable, and he was looking around the bookshop as if he, like Aziraphale, wished they had never met. “I hope it wasn't an inconvenience, closing the store early?”
“Oh no,” Aziraphale assured him, quite as nervous as the human seemed to be, “It was already closed. I mean, it's closed far more often than it's open. Or no, that's...”
“Wait, does this have something to do with the strange occurrences in the store? Because if it does, I'd rather get your statement on camera,” Ryan said quickly.
Crowley had insisted he be there for the “fun” and now Aziraphale looked to him desperately. The demon smirked in the face of Azairphale's discomfort. Nevertheless, he came to his rescue just as he had hundreds of times over their six millennia long acquaintance.
“What sort of strange occurrences have you heard of, exactly?”
Ryan opened his mouth to respond when they were interrupted by another member of his team.
“Hey, Ryan. Where do you want to set-up for the uh... the interview?” asked an awkwardly human-shaped crew member.
Aziraphale gasped. Crowley quickly stamped on his foot. The newcomer turned to look at them both and smiled.
“Right, let me introduce you. This is my co-host, Shane,” Ryan said.
Aziraphale sent a worried glance toward Crowley, who was already smiling in an unusually friendly way as he extended his hand to Shane. Deciding it would be best to follow Crowley's lead, he too accepted a handshake, though his smile was entirely forced.
“Hey, so you both run the bookshop? Seen any ghouls?” Shane asked playfully.
“Just... Just the one...” Aziraphale replied.
Ryan, misinterpreting Aziraphale’s comment as a poor attempt at a joke, advised him to ignore Shane. He then excused himself to help the rest of their crew with set-up. Aziraphale took the opportunity to pull Crowley aside, obscuring them both from view behind the bookshelves.
“That man is a demon!” Aziraphale whispered rather loudly.
“Yeah, I noticed,” Crowley replied with a hiss, “And what did you mean ‘just the one?’ I'm not a ghoul!”
“No, you're a deceitful serpent!” Aziraphale agreed with more malice than he'd intended, “Inviting him into my shop! Is he one of your friends? We're just inviting all of the Fallen into my shop now?”
“He is not my friend!”
“Then who is he?”
Crowley twisted his face in thought. It wasn't likely that Hell had already sent an emissary to keep an eye on him - not after the performance Aziraphale had given. He tried to recall the lesser demons who sometimes took odd jobs on the surface.
“There was one... A nobody, really. Moloch or Morax or something...”
“It's Madej, actually,” said Shane directly beside them.
In spite of themselves, both Aziraphale and Crowley jumped.
“Hey, you guys are gonna be cool about this, right?” Shane asked in an infuriatingly casual tone, “I mean… Like, I don't actually want any trouble, y’know?”
Aziraphale, readjusting his bowtie superfluously, asked the obvious question.
“You mean you don't want us to expose you as a demon?”
Shane shushed him, clapping one hand over Azirphale's mouth as he looked over his shoulder. Ryan and the rest of the crew were busy setting up lighting equipment in the crowded bookshop, and hadn’t noticed them. Crowley slapped his hand away from Aziraphale's face with a burning glare only partially hidden by his sunglasses.
“Look, I don't want to be outed anymore than you, your… uh,” Shane paused, then asked, “What do we call your kind anyway? Your Holiness? Are you, like, a cherub or a seraph or…”
“We get it,” Crowley replied, ignoring Shane’s attempt to list the other classes of angels, “We'll keep our mouths shut if you do.”
Shane directed a look at Crowley that was very characteristic of demons. It was that I Don't Trust You, But We're Demons, So Of Course Trust Is A Foreign Concept To Both Of Us look. For now, it was a truce, and Shane made his way to the human film crew to finish preparations.
Aziraphale watched him walk to Ryan's side and instantly announced, “I'm going to tell Ryan that his friend is a demon.”
If Crowley had a glass of wine to sip in that moment, he would have spit all over the shop. Instead, he turned to Aziraphale and half-hissed, half-shouted, “You can't!”
“Well somebody has to tell him!” Aziraphale whined, his eyes on the young human with an expression of extreme pity, “The poor boy has no clue what sort of company he keeps!”
“It's not so bad. I'm a demon, remember? I don't see you complaining about my company.”
“Yes, but I'm an angel. It's completely different for you and me.”
“Yeah, you're only breaking several holy rules ‘fraternizing’ with me. There's no reason why Shane can't plague this human. In fact, he's doing his job.”
“And what is his job exactly?”
Crowley watched the other demon assist in rearranging some furniture for more ease while filming. He did it manually, just like a human, bending at the knees and lifting. Not a covert finger-snap to be seen.
“Well he's... er...”
“You'd better find out,” Aziraphale admonished, “You're the one who invited them here.”
“What? Why?”
“I'd feel a lot better knowing what his intentions are with that young man,” Aziraphale stated, still looking at Ryan with the sort of apprehension one would expect of a parent who disapproved of their child's new boyfriend. “If he's trying to damn a human soul, I have to stop him.”
“Then stop him. You don't need my help.”
Aziraphale's gaze broke away from Ryan, and he fixed Crowley in his sights. His expression was chilly, and Crowley was unexpectedly frightened of what might come next.
“Anthony Jolene Crowley,” he said with deadly significance, “If you don't help me stop this demon, I'll... I'll stop talking to you.”
“That's not going to work again, angel,” Crowley growled, “You already tried that once.”
Aziraphale gave him an arch look, then pointedly turned his face away without responding. Crowley didn't know whether he should curse himself or Shane Madej.
“I know what you're doing. It's not going to work.”
Aziraphale continued to look in the other direction. Crowley shot a disparaging glare at Shane and Ryan, then looked back at Aziraphale's profile.
“Fine,” he hissed, “But you are going to owe me for this, angel.”
Aziraphale instantly turned back to him with an expression of pure delight. Crowley sneered.
They were ready to start filming. Ryan had explained in advance that he'd like to interview both Aziraphale and Crowley to start their video. Why he was interested in Crowley's perspective was beyond Azirphale’s comprehension, though he assumed that since Crowley bragged about spending so much time in the shop, perhaps they assumed he would have some stories to tell about otherworldly phenomena.
If only they knew...
“So before we get started,” Shane said, “I'd like to ask you both a question.”
Aziraphale, polite to a fault but still suspicious of this unfamiliar demon, invited him to continue. Crowley merely demonstrated his cooperation with a magnanimous wave of his hand. Shane smirked and asked, “Do you consider yourself a Shaniac or a Boogara?”
This required further explanation. After Shane, with Ryan's assistance, explained the relative terms, Crowley was only too happy to deliver his response.
“Oh I'm definitely a Boogara!” he said, directing a shit-eating grin toward Shane. The demon smiled, but with an expression that only thinly veiled his intense dislike.
“What about you, Mr. Fell?” Ryan asked, not sensing the demonic tension that was building between his co-host and the shop owner's unusual friend.
“Oh, I don't know...” Aziraphale said with hesitation. Lying was not a part of his nature, and he was desperate to give Ryan some clue about the dangerous being currently sitting directly to his right. At the same time, he wasn't keen to say anything that might turn the tide of exposure toward himself. Eventually, he continued, “I like to think that most things can be explained rationally... But then there are some phenomenon that are altogether... well, for lack of a better word-”
“Don't say it,” Crowley begged, just as Aziraphale finished with “-Ineffable.”
He directed a self-satisfied grin at Crowley, who groaned in response.
Ryan appeared confused by their banter, while Shane was directing a warning look to them both. Crowley, to save face and avoid an uncomfortable explanation, merely stated, “That’s a bookstore owner for you. He loves his fancy words.”
“Hey, I love it,” Shane said, a sly smile returning to his face, “Ineffable…”
“How dare you?” Crowley interrupted, “That’s our word!”
Fortunately, the Ghoul Boys took this as a joke, and laughed the awkward exclamation away.
“I’d like to know more about the history of the store,” Ryan stated once filming officially began, “How long have you been managing it?”
“Oh it’s so difficult to say…” Aziraphale stated wistfully, “I think it’s been about two hundred years, give or take a few decades…”
Crowley coughed loudly, and Aziraphale recognized his mistake.
“I mean, it’s been in my family for that long! Yes, that’s it. I haven’t been running it for two hundred years, of course! What a ridiculous notion!”
“I mean, hey. I think you look great for your age!” Shane replied, drawing another laugh from Ryan.
Crowley was ready to throw hands.
Fortunately for Shane, Ryan quickly moved on to the next topic. Many people had reported strange lights, hissing voices, and in some cases, even an intense feeling of dread.
“Feeling of dread?” Crowley repeated, “As if something really wanted them to leave the shop in a hurry?”
He directed a pointed look to Aziraphale, who did his best to look as if he didn’t know what Crowley was talking about.
Ryan agreed, though he added, “The strange thing is that many of the people who reported being scared out of the store also reported that something good happened to them soon after. Like finding something they thought was lost forever, almost as if...”
“By a miracle?” Crowley suggested.
Aziraphale was out of patience with him.
“I think,” he said primly, “That much of what you described could be demonic in nature.”
Ryan’s face fell, “Wait… You said demonic?”
“Oh yes. The hissing voices in particular. That’s been something that’s plagued my family for generations since running this shop.”
He meant to take a stab at Crowley, but immediately regretted the decision when he saw the look of pure terror on Ryan’s face.
“I didn’t sign up for demons!” he squeaked, “This wasn’t supposed to be a demon episode!”
Aziraphale and Crowley both looked pointedly at Shane, who might as well be wearing a shirt saying “Deal With It.”
Somehow, Ryan managed to pull himself together to continue filming. As the evening progressed from interviews to investigation, the formula of the show quickly became apparent to Crowley and Aziraphale. Shane played the role of a skeptic as Ryan hunted for ghosts. It was amusing to watch them, but ultimately Aziraphale couldn't understand Shane's motivation. Crowley was just as confused.
“Do you want him to figure it out?” Crowley muttered to Shane as he fiddled with a thermal camera.
“Of course not,” Shane replied, “That would spoil all the fun.”
Demons are naturally mischievous creatures, and Crowley was no different. It had been his intention to prank the paranormal investigators from the beginning, and now that he'd heard Shane's response, he knew what he must do.
He and Aziraphale remained in the shop when the crew turned out the lights. Aziraphale had given the excuse that as the proprietor, he wanted to be present to “keep an eye” on things. The small crew of investigators were used to having security or other staff on-site at various locations, so they offered no objection. They merely cautioned both Aziraphale and Crowley to remain as quiet as possible while filming was taking place.
Crowley started small. A scraping noise from the back of the shop here, a faint moan from the flat above them there. He was beginning to wonder if the sound of rattling chains would be too much, when Aziraphale caught on to his plan. He didn't say anything, but the look of irritation he directed at Crowley was its own reward. Crowley smirked at him, then lifted the fingers of his left hand ever so slightly, in response, a small cup of tea, forgotten by Aziraphale until that moment, began to levitate off his desk.
It was in full view of the humans. If the lights had been on, everyone would have noticed, but fortunately for Shane and Aziraphale, the hovering teacup was obscured by the dark. Aziraphale alone had observed the state of things. His mouth fell open in horror, and in his haste to correct Crowley's wrongdoing, he snapped his fingers, and the teacup came crashing down.
“What was that?!” Ryan practically shrieked, “Shane, did you hear that?!”
“Of course I heard it, Ryan,” Shane replied in the practiced tones of one who has had similar conversations several times in the past. “It sounded like glass breaking.”
“But what caused it?”
“Wha-You… You're asking me what I think caused something to break in a crowded bookshop? I don't know, it's dark, Ryan! I probably... uh... knocked something over in the dark...”
Crowley, sensing another opening, began to pluck a few select books off the shelves one by one. Using his demonic powers, he had them hover in the air, waiting for Ryan to creep around a corner and see them suspended in place.
Shane got to them first. Turning a corner suddenly, he was confronted by the sight of the eerily floating books. Panicking, he spiked the first to the ground like a practiced ace in a volleyball match, and the rest went tumbling to the floor after.
“Shane?” Ryan called with a timorous voice from another aisle.
“Yeah, just me again,” Shane said, cringing as he directed a glare at Crowley, “I just... stubbed my toe on one of these shelves. It uh… It’s really a maze in here...”
This went on for some time. Crowley attempting to have Ryan stumble on just a little bit of occult evidence, while either Shane or Aziraphale thwarted him at every turn. Crowley was growing to enjoy himself immensely. Then Ryan brought out the spirit box.
Shane didn't hesitate to show his disdain, but for Crowley, his moment had come. The radio, after all, was Hell's preferred method of communication. Ryan started up the device, and Crowley could not wipe the smile from his face.
But it was not his voice that came through the static. Aziraphale, sensing Crowley's joy and recognizing the diabolical expression on his face, stared at him. He didn't say a word, but everyone in the room heard his voice when it was unexpectedly blasted over the shifting radio signals.
“ Don't you dare! ”
It was all Crowley could do to stop himself from laughing. Aziraphale's face was visibly red, even in the dark, and that was how Crowley learned angels could blush.
Meanwhile, Ryan was arguing with Shane.
“Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“It said ‘don't you dare’! What do you think that means?”
“Is that what it said? I just heard...”
He began imitating the robotic sounds of the radio rapidly flashing through stations. All things considered, it was a very good imitation.
“No, fuck you!” Ryan insisted, “That clearly sounded like ‘don't you dare’!”
“Well, I don't know, Ryan. Maybe the spirits hate the box as much as I do!”
By the end of the night, Ryan had at least one piece of what he thought was compelling evidence. They had decided long before filming that this would not be an episode featuring an overnight visit, and as the film crew packed their things to head back to the hotel, the Ghoul Boys thanked their hosts again.
“Oh, you really don't have to leave so soon!” Aziraphale said with uncharacteristic hospitality. Usually, he couldn't wait for people to leave his shop so he could be alone with his books. “It's still early!”
He directed a sharp glance at Crowley, who looked at the clock and sighed. Ryan didn't notice, but the hands of the clock, already well past midnight, slowly dialed themselves back to a more reasonable hour. When the human did turn to check the time, he was astounded by how ahead of schedule they were.
“I would love to hear about the other locations you've visited,” Aziraphale insisted, laying it on thick.
Ryan, conscious that Azirphale had demanded no compensation for allowing them to film in his shop, agreed to drinks at a nearby pub. Shane, to Aziraphale's disappointment, instantly expressed his intention to join them. The angel allowed some space to form between the two investigators and himself and Crowley before pulling his demon into another consultation.
“What did you think you were doing back there?”
“I was following the plan, angel,” Crowley said with mock sincerity, “We invited them to hunt some ghosts. I'm just giving the people what they want.”
“I thought we agreed that you would figure out what that demon is up to?”
“Agreed? Is that what you call threatening me?”Crowley hissed.
Aziraphale directed a look of withering disdain at him.
They maintained a sullen silence until they’d reached the pub, at which point Aziraphale loudly exclaimed, “Shall I order a round for the table?”
The pub's owner, a little dazed and wondering why his pub was still open at this hour, was nonetheless pleased to see more patrons. He began polishing a few glasses in anticipation of their orders.
“I can't let you pay for us, Mr. Fell,” Ryan replied, “Let me help.”
This was exactly the response Aziraphale was hoping to hear, not because of any pecuniary concern, but because he wanted to separate the human from the demon as soon as possible. He glanced at Crowley, hoping he understood this was his opening. The demon...His demon, Aziraphale privately thought, was already making his way toward a secluded table near the back of the pub.
“The usual spot, then, angel?” he called over his shoulder, sauntering between the chairs.
“Yes, my dear. Thank you,” he called back.
Shane directed a look toward him with one eyebrow raised, then he turned and followed Crowley to the table to wait.
“Alright, let's not mince words,” Crowley started instantly, “What've you got going on with the human?”
“It's a YouTube series,” Shane responded.
“Don't be stupid. Hell doesn't send demons to the surface to make YouTube videos.”
“I wouldn't be so sure. Have you heard of Logan Paul?”
“So...” Aziraphale began slowly once Ryan had ordered four drinks for their table. “How long have you and Shane been working together?”
As subtlety goes, Aziraphale was dreadful at small talk. It was not a talent he had cultivated over the many millennia he'd been on Earth. He'd hoped he wasn't being too direct, and was grateful when Ryan seemed unaware of any motive behind his question.
“I started the Unsolved series about three years ago, I think,” Ryan said after some thought, “But we both worked at Buzzfeed before that.”
“Three years! That's... a long time,” Aziraphale replied with hesitation. He had no idea if three years was considered a long time to humans. Their lives were so very short, so it sounded to him as if three years was a long time to be doing anything with anyone.
“Of course, Shane wasn't always a part of Unsolved. Brent was my co-host first.”
“Oh? Why did he stop?”
Ryan laughed, “Nobody knows! I guess it's just another unsolved mystery!”
He was joking, of course, but to Aziraphale it sounded extremely suspicious. He was already imagining several terrible ways in which a demon could oust a rival from his coveted prey. He sent up a silent prayer that Shane at least had allowed this poor Brent to survive, perhaps with a slightly altered memory.
“Come off it,” Crowley said, leaning across the table (the better to intimidate the lesser demon), “I know you've got some plan. Is it possession? Or are you old school? Just hacking away at one soul until you've tempted him down the wrong path?”
“Nah, it's not like that.”
“Then what?”
“Well... It's just a lot of fun, y'know?”
“What's so fun about hanging around a human?” Crowley asked, though in truth he was the least qualified to criticize. After all, he'd spent more time around humans than all the other demons in Hell combined. Still, it was more the idea of humanity that interested Crowley and kept him entertained. If he had to spend time with an individual, he would rather it be Aziraphale. When it came to Ryan, Crowley didn't understand the appeal.
Shane appeared to have some difficulty putting his thoughts into words. He finally settled on, “Wha-We're the Berry Boys!”
Their drinks had already been set on the counter, and Ryan was at the point of suggesting that they deliver them to the other half of their party. In the back, Aziraphale could see that Crowley was still talking with Shane. He appeared deeply engrossed in their conversation.
“Did you know that there's actually been a few hauntings reported in this building?” he said, breaking away from his nature and lying through his teeth.
“Really?” Ryan said, instantly forgetting about the drinks and turning to Aziraphale with interest.
“Oh yes. All sorts of, erm, ghosts have been spotted in old buildings like this ,” Aziraphale stated, knowing full well that the pub where they were currently standing had been built within the last decade, and it was only designed to have an antique feel that was what Crowley referred to as “trending”.
Shane proceeded to tell Crowley all about Knott's Berry Farm. Crowley was still completely bewildered, as if Shane was speaking to him in some unknown language, until Shane began to describe all the different foodstuffs one could purchase at the amusement park. It sounded like something Aziraphale might really enjoy.
“Where did you say this farm was?” Crowley asked with a practiced indifference.
“Just watch the video, man.”
“What sort of haunting is it?” Ryan asked.
“Oh the usual,” Aziraphale stated, though he had no idea what a “usual” haunting looked like. “Lights flickering on and off. Drinks emptying themselves mysteriously. That sort of thing.”
“Actually, now that you mention it. I wanted to ask you about your shop?”
Aziraphale, worried about the direction this conversation was taking, reluctantly waited for what would come next.
“Didn't you think that part with the spirit box was strange?” Ryan continued, “I mean, you and Mr. Crowley were standing there, but you didn't say anything. Did you think it sounded like a voice?”
“Oh, I don't know...” Aziraphale stated. He didn't want to disappoint the boy, but he was still embarrassed by his own slip-up. “It did sound like something... but it's difficult to say for sure...”
Ryan shook his head, “I knew it. You're a Shaniac.”
“Certainly not,” said Aziraphale, deeply offended.
Meanwhile, Shane had continued to tell Crowley of the other videos he'd made with Ryan. Crowley had just learned of Ryan’s holy water gun, and was properly horrified.
“What if he’d used it on you?” he said, “What if he was joking around and decided to spritz you with it like some kind of misbehaving houseplant? You could have died!”
Shane nodded his head in solemn agreement, “It was a very stressful night for me. I’m afraid I took it out on the Goatman. Said I was going to steal his bridge. He wrote a nasty memo about it to the head office.”
“You actually said you were taking the bridge?” Crowley said. He was laughing now in spite of himself.
“Technically, I said it belonged to me and Ryan. But I’m not worried. Everyone knows that guy’s a whimp.”
“I'll drink to that,” said Crowley. Then he remembered they hadn't been given any drinks.
“Well, I think it was compelling,” Ryan stated, sounding fairly confident in himself, “And I'll bet there will be more evidence when we go back to review the footage.”
This was exactly what Aziraphale feared. He was certain some trick of Crowley’s had escaped both his and Shane’s notice, and it occurred to him that any unexplainable phenomena would only feed the rumors circulating about his shop. From Ryan’s description, Aziraphale understood that their show was popular, and rather than expose Shane for the demon he was, he now feared that Crowley’s meddling would result in more visitors to his shop. Visitors who were hoping for a glimpse of a ghost rather than a good book. The latter were already an annoyance to the angel, while the former… Aziraphale couldn’t bear thinking of all the trouble the former would cause.
In a last ditch effort to do damage control by discouraging Ryan, he gently suggested that in such an old building, a certain amount of odd sounds were to be expected.
Ryan shook his head and stated, “You sound just like Shane. I can’t tell you how many times he’s tried to blame something on the wind or squeaky shoes. Just once… Just once I’d like to get something he couldn’t explain away.”
“Well… I suppose we all hope from some sign of the supernatural at times,” Aziraphale said, thinking on his own recent attempt to contact The Almighty, and getting only the Metatron in Her place.
“Oh, I don’t need any convincing. I already know ghosts exist,” Ryan said.
Aziraphale was taken aback by the conviction in his voice, and expressed his surprise to Ryan by asking, “How can you be sure?”
“I’ve experienced things,” Ryan said. He looked like a man who was used to contradiction, but wasn’t ashamed to admit what he believed to be unquestionable truth. “So many things over the years I can’t count them all… But somehow I’ve never found anything compelling enough to convince Shane.”
“And I suppose he’s always conveniently absent when something does happen?” Aziraphale asked, a new suspicion beginning to form in his mind.
“Now that you mention it, all the weird stuff tends to happen less often when he’s around,” Ryan laughed to dispel the serious atmosphere that had grown between them over the course of the conversation, “Maybe the ghosts are afraid of him!”
“Have you heard of Father Thomas?”
“The exorcist?” Crowley asked.
“Yeah, that's him. Ryan wanted to interview him for one of our, uh, first paranormal episodes. I actually had to sit in a church.”
“I don't believe it!” Crowley said, now thoroughly impressed with the demon before him. If it had been anyone else, Hastur or even Beelzebub, Crowley would damn them for a liar. But Shane had a stammering, almost humble way of sharing his experiences that made him believable. Crowley didn't think he was showing off.
“How did you do it?” Crowley asked him finally, “I mean, I've walked through a church, before it got blown up. It was agonizing. You mean to say you actually sat there and talked to a priest?”
“Yeah,” Shane said, even now shaking his head at the memory, “It. Was. Painful...but I think I was pretty cool about it.”
“So about you and Mr. Crowley... How long have you been together?”
He asked it in the style of all heterosexuals who are desperate to demonstrate that they are, in fact, allies. This, however, went directly over Aziraphale's head as he struggled to find an answer.
“Oh, well we aren't always together, not really.” Aziraphale responded, “But I have known him for a very long time, indeed.”
“I see, that's great. And he helps around the shop?”
“Oh, I wouldn't say that he helps. Actually, he can be a bit of a pest. Rather like Mr. Madej, I assume.”
“Admit it,” Crowley pressed, “You wouldn't have put up with water pistols of holy water and voodoo rituals if there wasn't something in it for you.”
Shane looked toward the bar where Aziraphale and Ryan were still conversing, having apparently forgotten all about their drinks. “I'll tell you if you tell me why you're hanging around with an angel.”
Crowley shrugged, “Someone's got to. If not for me, that angel would have been discorporated half a dozen times already.”
“Exactly,” Shane said cryptically, “Ryan's not just a normal human. Spirits kind of gravitate toward him, y'know? Like a spirit magnet. And demons want in on the action, too. It's a miracle he hasn't been possessed yet.”
“So you're protecting him.” Crowley stated.
Shane managed to look very similar to Crowley as he shrugged and repeated, “Someone's got to.”
When the pairs finally regrouped, they went through several drinks before the sun began to peak over the horizon. The astonished bartender, flabbergasted that he'd allowed his bar to stay open all night, hurried them out into the street. An even more bewildered Ryan Bergara stared at his watch, wondering where the hours had gone and apologizing profusely to a slightly inebriated Crowley and Aziraphale for keeping them out all night. The angel and the demon, immediately sober after deciding it was time, dismissed his apologies and saw them on their way.
Aziraphale had a small pang of doubt watching them go. In the midst of their drinking party, he hadn't had a chance to ask Crowley if Shane's intentions toward Ryan were free of sin. Or as free as one could hope, under the circumstances.
“You can relax, angel,” Crowley said, swaggering past him as he directed his steps toward his Bentley. Somehow the car had managed to appear directly across the street from them, when it had previously been parked just outside Aziraphale’s bookshop. “Madej is alright, far as demon's go. He's not going to consume little Bergara's soul anytime soon.”
“Well that is a relief,” Aziraphale said with a sigh, “Ryan is actually a very charming young lad, you know.”
“Charming? Right...” Crowley said. His dark glasses obstructed his eyes, but Aziraphale could tell he was rolling them.
“Did you ask the demon how he disguises his eyes?”
He flinched when Crowley abruptly slapped the top of his Bentley and cursed.
“I forgot! Damn... I'm sure it's something obvious, like contacts or the like. I won't wear them, of course. Can't stand the damned things.”
Aziraphale was prepared to leave him to his own musings over the demon Shane Madej, though he still lingered. His bookshop was only a short walk from the pub, but a part of him hoped Crowley would offer him a ride. Crowley still appeared distracted, however, and Aziraphale began walking slowly down the street.
“Angel! What are you doing? Get in the car!” Crowley called after him.
He didn't need to be told twice. Aziraphale glided into the passenger seat, and Crowley began tearing down the road at his characteristic breakneck speed while Freddie Mercury crooned in the background.
“Say, angel,” Crowley asked as they turned round the bend, halting just in front of Aziraphale's shop. “Have you heard of Knott's Berry Farm?”
One berry-themed video and several episodes of Unsolved later, Crowley and Aziraphale had become huge fans of the show. They had to wait several weeks for the release of ‘The Eerie Voices of a Soho Bookstore.’ Then a few days after that, Crowley burst into the shop, shouting at the top of his voice, “They did a Postmortem!”
It was one of those rare occasions when people had come to visit the store. Aziraphale would have had no qualms rushing the would-be customers out the door, but this time it was unnecessary. The visitors heard the shop owner’s questionable friend shouting about postmortems, and decided it was a good time to leave.
Secure in their haven once more, Aziraphale quickly prepared drinks for them both: cocoa for himself and black coffee for Crowley. The serpent, meanwhile, had cued the anticipated video up on his phone. It didn't occur to either one of them to miracle a TV into existence on which to watch said video. They were perfectly comfortable sitting very close and inclining their heads together to watch the now familiar pair on the small screen.
Of course, Aziraphale's voice over the spirit box had been a topic of much debate among the Unsolved community. Aziraphale squirmed, still embarrassed, as they discussed it during the Q&A. He was thankful when they moved on to other topics, until Shane started in with, “Let's take it on over to 'Gram Town!”
“This one comes from bentleylover69,” Ryan read, “Did you notice something fall off the desk at 16:66? No one was standing nearby when it fell, and it didn’t make a sound when it hit the floor. Try to explain that one, Shane. #boogara #thehotdagasucks.”
Aziraphale gasped and shot a disappointed look at Crowley. He was trying to look innocent, but being a demon, he was doing a terrible job at it.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale chastised, “How could you? And after you said all that about Madej...”
“It's not like I told Ryan he was a demon!” Crowley protested, “And besides, it'll give Ryan something to talk about.”
He wasn't wrong. Ryan wanted to review the footage, while an irritable Shane insisted that that the image was misleading, and what appeared to be a heavy book plummeting noiselessly to the floor may have been nothing but a stack of paper disturbed by the wind.
“Why don't we move on to our next comment?” Shane suggested, “This one is from Oyster_Temptation: I don't know if every piece of audio Ryan found in this episode is valid, but I think we can all agree that the spirit box said 'don't you dare.' Perhaps it was a warning to one of you? Also, I just want to say, Maize is a fantastic character, and I hope she gets reunited with her wife in the next season of the hotdaga.”
“Wait, is this someone who agrees with me, but also likes the hotdaga?” Ryan asked, more bewildered by the final comment than concerned about the implications of the first bit.
“Huh. Well I guess we know what that makes them,” said Shane, and he stared directly into the camera as he said, “You're a shitfish.”
Crowley burst into laughter while Aziraphale muttered, “There's no need for that kind of language.”
“Oh, you deserve it! Getting onto me for sending in a comment when you'd already done it yourself? What did you mean about a warning, anyway?”
“I meant it as a warning to both of them,” Aziraphale stated, “I still think Ryan needs to be careful around that demon. And if he’s a medium, he shouldn't play around with things like spirit boards and boxes and whatever else he has! As for Shane, I just hope he knows what he's doing...”
“Well, what'll you do about it if he doesn't? Planning to go over there to keep an eye on him?”
“I might.”
“No, you won't. Who'll watch the shop while you're gone, eh?”
Aziraphale looked to Crowley expectantly, and he shook his head.
“No. No way, angel. You owe me the favor, remember? Several of them, I think.”
“Fine. Then I'll tend to your plants while you go check-in on Ryan. Thank you, dear.”
“What? No! That's not what I was suggesting at all! I'm not going anywhere!”
Whether or not Shane actually managed to make a demon follow Ryan home is a mystery that will remain.... Unsolved.