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"His name is Zira Fell, Bookstore under the same name, and very queer."
It's been about 2 years since Armageddoff, both angel and demon have been lacking in their duties on Earth (and no one is willing to risk their life to demand them to go back to work) but someone has to report on how many human souls will fall into hell in the London area. So that's how Flaçton, a lower demon, got here. Making a deal with a human for his soul. It's his first time meeting a human but it's not hard to make them sin, even easier to get their souls when they're so willing to offer them up like this man...Chad? Thomas? He'll remember it later.
"So do you want him dead? This Zira Fell?"
His name sounds familiar somewhat, maybe a human celebrity that was guaranteed to fall on to hell like Kanye East...or something....
Willford summoned a demon, even offered his soul of he could get his hand on a rare book from this basically ignored gold mine of extremely rare first edition books.
Willford desperately needs this book for his private collection.
"NO! Of course not! Just steal this book, Hamlet, from him. He was very protective over it, it even had someone's signature in it from the time it was published! I couldn't read it before he snatched it from me. Can't be too hard, the bugger looks as if he's reaching retirement."
Well that does sound like an easy job, thought Flaçton as he shook the humans' hand to confirm a deal.
"So where would I find this bookshop?"
----
Flaçton walked up the road to the store on the corner. Across from the building was a black horseless carriage known as a 'car', illegally parked. Quite a sinner, that bloke.
Happy to see some sin, he walks into the door of the bookstore and looks for his golden ticket to a free soul. It took a moment before he felt something off in the air. Like it stung to breathe for a second as he looked through the books. His eye tried to water but he easily wiped it away. He felt a bit tight in his meat suit, but it’s his first time on Earth, so this must be something he has to adapt to. He believed these were the symptoms of what were called ‘allergies’.
A man's voice appeared suddenly behind him, "Hello! Do you need help with anything?"
"Yeah," said Flaçton, not turning around to the speaker as he looks through another row of books, "I was wondering if you had a copy of Hamlet? I have a friend who loves Shakespearean plays and would like to have a first edition book."
"Oh sorry there,chap. I don't have any first editions."
Well someone is lying. He can feel the small pull of simple lies like that. The demon finally turns around to face the man who lies, making a plan to get the book from him with another method.
Then he realized what it was, that painful feeling he had since he walked in, and it wasn’t allergies. It was an Angel's Grace, this angels' grace. Well there goes the easy job he had.
"Y-y-you.." he stuttered before he gave up on the sentence.
The angel smiled. "See, my dear? He wasn't here for us, he actually wanted a book. Probably got lost." Flaçton was confused as to why he said that as he was the only person there, but sure enough he was proven wrong when a snake rubbed against his ankles and grew into the infamous traitor; the demon Crowley. The demon who can survive holy water. With an angel....the angel who can survive hellfire....Zira Fell... Aziraphale ...oh shit , he knew that name sounded familiar!
He jumped back from the demon and fell back into his bum. "PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!" his hands covering his face as he tries to hide behind his legs.
"Crowley! That's quite a rude thing to do to our guest!"
"He's not a guest," growled Crowley
"Oh, look at him, he doesn't even have any huge sinister intention radiating from him. we're safe, he's not here to hurt us. You know that if he was, he would have been burning on the spot before he could even walk in."
That calmed the snake demon somewhat, although he still glared at the lesser demon before him.
That statement actually made Flaçton nearly piss and shit himself. ".... I'll leave," he whispered "I'm sorry for coming here and I'll never return, just please don't hurt me..."
Aziraphale walked to him and offered a hand to help him up. He glanced at Crowley, who was still looming near with a new flame of anger on his face. His eyes can't be seen but Flaçton has to assume that he'll turn to stone if they were removed. He hesitantly took the hand and stood up, shaking.
"Oh don't mind him, he's protective to a fault." Said the angel as he escorted him to a small nook with a table and tea steaming out of the kettle. "Some tea? " Flaçton just nodded. Both out of fear and curiosity. Tea is flavored water, he remembers that from the notes. Once the cup was handed to him, he took a deep gulp which caused him to drop the cup and burn his mouth and his chest from liquid that rolled down his shirt .
It was a trap all along! This is how he'll die! Laughter was coming towards him from behind.
"That's not funny Crowley! He could have burned himself!"
The laughter stopped for a second before it got louder. The joke was, of course, the image of a demon burning themselves.
"I'm sorry about that, dear, here." Flaçton was miracled back to how he was before he drank the tea. "What's your name? You look quite young."
"... I'm Flaçton, I was recreated from a soul three years ago."
"Flaçton?" Asked Crowley, now leaning on the angel, "That's a horrible name, so stupid sounding!"
"Probably not as bad as a snake named Crawley. " replied the angel. Crowley glared at him. "I'll have you know that 'Crawley' is a better name then 'Flaçton!"
"Whatever you say dear." The angel sipped his tea "Now Flaçton, you said you were here for my Hamlet book for your friend, yes?"
He nodded.
"Any chance that your friend was Willford McCullens? He was here last week trying to get the book after I left it out by accident."
He nodded again.
"Ah well you see, that copy of the book is very important to me and I can't have it leaving this building. It was a present from a very dear friend of mine."
Flaçton quickly stood up. "Understandable, wouldn't want to take something important like that from somebody, I'll just go and-"
A book was suddenly thrown into his chest.
"This was your first time trying to get a soul, yeah?" Crowley asked, looking uninterested. "If you can't get the object, just replicate it. But you'll have to know what it looks like first,get as much from the ins and outs of if as possible. I'll go easy on you this time around since you don't know anything. You're basically a child." The book in Flaçtons' hand was the one needed for the soul he was to collect. Without the signature on it.
"Th-thank you," Crowley winced at being thanked and looked away. “But my c-c-client wanted a signed one?”
The angel snapped and now Shakespeare's signature appears on it. Wait did an angel just help a demon that was trying to collect souls for hell? Let's think about that later.
"Oh t-t-t-thank you, Mr. Angel...Fell? Umm.." he stamped over his words as he became frustratedly flustered.
"Mr. Angel Fell! I like that one, might start calling you that." Crowley tried to hold back another laugh as Aziraphale sighed.
"It's no problem dear, I'm tired of the harassing calls from Willford is all. Now off you go, young man! Feel free to come back anytime."
Flaçton walked to the door and then stopped when he processed the last thing he said. "Wh.. really? You want me to come back?"
"Of course, you're very entertaining and Crowley needs to get out and make more friends!"
"Hey! I'm not a child who needs to go hang out with the other -”
"And since he's been on Earth longer than any demon, he'll even teach you the ropes and how to fit in well."
"Are you even listening to me? Why the hell would I want to waste my time doing something like that with-
"Would you like that Flaçton?"
" UGHH! "
There was a beat of silence, if you don't count an over 6000 year old being complaints being ignored, before the younger Demon answered. "Yes? But I don't think ...um...C-C-Crowley would be up to it?"
" Oh he will be! Just come back anytime next week, dear, we’ll be here." The angel then took his companion into the back room with loud complaints floating in the air like a trail. He nearly ran out of the store.
Mc...umm... McDonalds or whatever got his book and Flaçton got his soul and now he has until next week to figure out what the actual fuck just happened today.