Chapter Text
Let it be known throughout the 9 circles of Heaven, Hell, and the Earth, that when the Archangel Gabriel called you to his office, it was certainly not good. Well...it was good in that angels were to do no Bad, so by sheer technically it was obviously Good, but this did little to settle Aziraphale. He had been resorting the already pristine heavenly libraries when he was suddenly summoned. It was very fortunate that he was in fact an angel and thus naturally inclined to the virtue of patience, or by goodness he might have been considered annoyed by the intrusion.
Still, there had been a good reason for Aziraphale to spend his eternal days hiding about in the library tomes, and not in his own heavenly office with the other angels. Despite outranking Gabriel, the archangel had a habit of making the principality feel only centimeters tall, to turn a phrase. Now, Aziraphale wasn't quite sure, but he was starting to think this wasn't normal angelic supervisor behavior. At least, maybe it shouldn't be. He didn't know whether this thought was allowed or not so he kept it close to himself.
Aziraphale straightened his cream colored bow-tie and magnolia waistcoat, “Best get this over with...” he muttered to himself.
He worked up a neutral pleasant smile and knocked.
“Enter.”
The blindingly white door vanished in a blink. Aziraphale stepped in. Large floor length windows showing a vivid blue sky with massive puffy clouds overlooked an equally blindingly white desk. At the desk, Gabriel had his head bowed, writing something before swiftly moving the papers to one of the neat stacks on the desk.
Several moments passed. Aziraphale shifted from foot to foot. He wondered if he should cough to mark his presence, when the archangel finally lifted his head and regaled the Principality with a matching blindingly white smile. As usual the gesture didn't quite make it to his violet eyes.
“Ah, there you are, Aziraphale. Just the angel I wanted to see!”
Aziraphale gave a weak grin, humming.
Gabriel gave one of the stacks of paperwork a satisfied hard pat, before quickly striding around his desk toward the other angel.
“Working hard, or hardly working these days?” Gabriel clapped a hand a little too hard on his shoulder.
Aziraphale thought longingly to the stack of first edition Wilde's waiting for him back in the library (smuggled there many years ago by a certain unnamed angel), begging to be read and dusted. “Well as a matter of fact-”
“Excellent, I have just the busy work for you then,” Gabriel said, “Spread your wings and all that. You like being on Earth, right?”
Aziraphale's interest which had begun to fade into a distant dull drone upon entering Gabriel's office immediately piqued, “E-earth? Why yes, as a matter of fact. I've been hoping for the chance to return for quite a while now.”
Gabriel's smile brightened a few watts, “Perfect! I have a task for you then. Straight from the Almighty herself. Very important as you can imagine, and imperative that it gets done.”
He pulled the first folder from the top of one of the many stacks on his desk seemingly at random and handed the manila folder to Aziraphale.
When Aziraphale opened it, he was confronted with a printed profile. A profile of a human.
“Anthony J. Crowley. Age 46. District manager of a large telemarketing business in London. He just found out last week that he has leukemia, and has 2 to 3 years to live.”
“Oh my, the poor dear,” Aziraphale frowned, sadly scanning the picture paper-clipped to the corner. A rather grumpy looking human with red red hair and dark designer sunglasses glared back at him, as if sensing Aziraphale feeling any sort of pity for him and was Not Happy about it.
“Yes yes, very sad,” Gabriel plucked the file back, snapping it closed and tucking it under his arm, “Problem is, he is drastically lacking in, well, any positive qualities, quite frankly. Not nearly enough to meet his quota. At this rate, he will be sent to Hell when he does die in a couple years time. The Almighty has seen fit to request he be given a Guardian to offer him the chance of redemption.” Gabriel looked to the angel pointedly.
Aziraphale's blonde head snapped up, blinking rapidly, “Guar-guardian? Me? I mean...”
Gabriel raised one eyebrow, “Something wrong?”
“It's just...Principalities are not typically guardians of individual humans. Just groups, mostly you know. I've never been a Guardian Angel before...”
“Oh please, you were Guardian of the Eastern Gate back in the day, weren't you? Surely there's not much difference guarding a single human. You won't mind,” Gabriel waved him off, taking a seat back at his desk. “Besides, we're short staffed at the moment, not enough Angels to spare. All the more reason to get more souls into Heaven! Besides, She requested it, you won't be saying no to that, will you?”
Aziraphale tugged at his pale coat cuffs behind his back while he shot a nervous glace through the ceiling. “No, I...I suppose not,” he murmured.
“Wonderful!”
“This human...”Aziraphale worried his lip, “He must be rather important for his own Guardian Angel? Important... to the Plan, by chance?”
Gabriel scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Uh, of course. Why would the Almighty have asked otherwise? Honestly, Aziraphale.”
The corner of Aziraphale's mouth twitched at the non-answer. His eyes fell to his shuffling feet as he said quietly, “Right...silly me.”
Gabriel had scribbled his signature with a flick and whisked the file away with barely a second thought. And just like that he was already bent over his pile of papers again, “Glad we have that sorted. Report to Earth as soon as you can, miserable human doesn't have a lot of time left does he?”
“Of course.”
Aziraphale turned, as if in a daze. Gabriel always did manage to make him feel like he had been hit by a storm with just a simple conversation.
How fortunate he would be returning to Earth soon, he could do with a stiff cup of tea.
“And Aziraphale?”
The angel blinked behind him.
“Close the door on your way out.”
The bright door closed swiftly in Aziraphale's face.
…