Chapter Text
Generally speaking, Aziraphale did not tend to pay much attention to the hustle and bustle of ordinary humans. Though he would admit to having a particular soft spot for those that liked to collect things. (Which would come as no surprise to someone that actually knew him.) He may as well have been a magpie for all the things he enjoyed collecting, and admittedly it was sometimes fun to see the trinkets and bric-a-brac that humans collected for themselves. Even better when said trinkets and bric-a-brac were older than the humans in question.
True enough, he did have ulterior motives for hopping across the pond to a rather large flea market. He’d taken note of all the rare tomes people had managed to pick up from time to time, and in the interest of finding a particularly rare item for himself, he’d all but dragged Jahaziel by the ear with him to have a third set of eyes on the lookout. He was also looking for anything from the year 1969 - or anything to do with the moon landing. It was technically their anniversary, and it was in three days, and Aziraphale had forgotten about it entirely. Jahaziel did not know about this part of his hunt, and the demon had wanted to gift shop in private; sending the angel off to the opposite end of the market for them to ‘work their way in’ from the outside, and meet in the middle with their findings.
He also wanted to vent off a little ‘work’ frustration at unsuspecting plants that humans always tended to bring here. Without fail.
Finding exactly what he was looking for - of a leafy green variety - he headed over to scold it quietly, already finding numerous problems to shame it over. Mid-thought, he was interrupted by a voice coming from the stall next to it. A human voice. A woman. He paused, closing his eyes to focus on it a little better, listening to what was being said. Normally, most anything humans had to say to him weren’t of general interest unless he was purposely seeking them out for a temptation. However, this one seemed to be chanting something very softly to herself. And it wasn’t entirely English, either.
He stepped around the row of plants, moving closer to the source. The chanting grew louder as he drew nearer, finding it very curious she would be out here talking to herself like that. In public, no less. When her words were more than a mumble, he realized she was reciting some kind of spell to herself. Very curious indeed. As she came into his vision, he saw her holding a book, and a curious little bauble that dangled from between the fingers of her opposite hand.
Throwing caution to the wind, he approached further.
“Don’t you think it’d work a little better if you were somewhere quieter?”
Startled, the woman dropped the bauble, hastily snapping her book shut. Aziraphale excused himself and picked it up for her, noting a curious sort of feeling from the cool metal as he passed it back. He smiled at her, pleasantly as possible, folding his hands in front of himself.
“I’m sorry,” she began, voice a little clipped. The demon could tell it wasn’t out of any rudeness, but it sounded more like she had to rush to explain herself more often than not. “Under normal circumstances, you’d be right. Quieter is better. But…” She looked around, pulling the book closer to her chest and sighing. “I think it’s here. I don’t want to be too far away. In case it is.”
Brow raised above his sunglasses, and Aziraphale tipped his head curiously. Well. If she hadn’t had his rapt attention before, she certainly did now. “Pardon my curiosity, but what’s here?”
The woman smiled tightly at him. “A book.” And she offered nothing more.
Aziraphale smiled in reply, nodding his head slowly. “Ah. I too am looking for a book. Perhaps we could help one another?” To his mild surprise, the flicker of demonic favor he sent out with his suggestion was met with gentle but somewhat firm opposition. He narrowed his eyes at the woman curiously - so what he’d felt from the trinket hadn’t been just a coincidence. He decided to be somewhat more direct. Much like a predator circling prey, he began a slow circle around her. “...Perhaps we’re looking for the same book. What would the odds be of that, hm?”
Mirroring him, the woman narrowed her eyes as well behind her round, owlish glasses. “Incredibly low.” She turned in a circle as he moved around her, eyes not leaving his face. Aziraphale felt rather studied, at that moment, but enjoyed their small cat and mouse more than he wanted to admit. “Not many people come all this way for fairy tales.”
Ah. Just as he’d suspected - the inflection with which she had said the word people led him to believe that she was onto him, at least in some small part. “Something tells me you don’t either,” he argued quietly, looking around them and casting his senses out the smallest bit. She wasn’t affiliated with Above or Below, but she had some inclination that had the demon quite interested. He stepped closer, voice low once again as he pushed more of the subtle art of temptation into his words. “As I said. Perhaps we can help one another.”
She was much more receptive this time. Aziraphale was glad Jahaziel wasn’t around to see it - despite being entirely accepting of him as a whole, he never wanted the angel to bear witness to his… “work.” He hadn't done it in earnest in quite some time, but Aziraphale actually did take pride in his style of demonic persuasion. His entire modus operandi depended on being as discreet as possible too. Calling it ‘sneaky' was amateurish. He was very good at what he did. To him, it was poetry. For sensitive creatures like this one, he kept any power shift from his aura. Outwardly though, the coercion was only noticeable in his second set of eyes, luckily hidden by ever-present shades. While ordinarily half closed, they opened wider and did not wander an inch from his target, even as his upper ones looked elsewhere.
The woman’s gaze, hard for a moment, gradually softened. With a nod, she looked around, then back at him; finger sliding the book open to the page she’d been on before. “I don’t have a lot to go on. I’m putting together bits and pieces of what I do know of my family’s history. It hasn’t been easy - there seems to be some kind of…” She made a face, shaking her head. “Power at work. Keeping things hidden. Almost like it’s--”
“Cursed,” Aziraphale finished for her in a whisper. Of course, it all made so much sense now! Actually cursed! Why the replications were worthless. Why no one ever even knew what to do with a replica once they got ahold of one. Why even second printings of the book were regarded as little more than a fancily bound, though empty sketchbook. And family. Aziraphale had hit the jackpot. “Luck of the Devil,” he muttered to himself. “Oh, we have so much to talk about. But - pardon me, I never introduced myself.” He turned to her properly, extending his hand. “Aziraphale. I’m quite certain you’ll notice there’s a little more to me than meets the eye. It isn’t every day I meet a witch. I’d like to be transparent with you if we’re going to be discussing things of such importance.”
Staring blankly for a moment, the woman took his hand, shaking it firmly. It tingled, though not unpleasantly. “Device. Anathema Device.” A thin smile formed. “One of the only things able to be lifted from the copies was a great idea for a name, I guess.” Not relinquishing his hand straight away, she stared at him. “You said there’s more to you than meets the eye. That would explain a fair number of things, I think. You are…?”
“A demon,” Aziraphale completed. It wasn’t exactly with any haste that she released his hand, though he figured the confession still had something to do with it. “I’m sure you felt as much when I approached you.”
Anathema nodded slowly. “That… would be it then. Yes.”
“Are you practicing?” he asked politely, tilting his head the opposite way from before, not so eager to change the subject as he was to move the conversation along.
“Well. Not so much. Actually. Kind of.” Anathema sighed, curling her hair behind her ear. “It isn’t so easy when everyone thinks… Well.”
“You’re a nutter. And not the surname. No offense, of course.”
“Right.” She smiled. “Exactly.”
Aziraphale hummed, narrowing his upper eyes and looking around again. Jahaziel wasn’t nearby, and he had to wonder if it was because the angel got distracted by one thing or another. “Would you mind it terribly if we met up with my dearest for a bite to eat? We can discuss our mutual interest somewhere that isn’t so… open.”
He saw the small flash of apprehension in her frame for just a second before his words and hidden, arrow-straight gaze eased her nerves. She looked around at the market, as if half expecting to see whom Aziraphale spoke of. “Are they… like you then?”
“Somewhat,” he offered with a small smile.
She gave a little nod. “Sure. Um. I know a nice little place that serves vegan pizza around here. Called Virtuous Crust.”
Aziraphale could never name the last of the foods he enjoyed on this planet. He could wax poetic about his favorite authentic restaurants in the Cretan Islands alone for an entire age. But half his eyes closed in tense revulsion, memories of Californian novelty eateries in more recent years shooting to the forefront of his mind. “Vegan”, “pizza”, and “virtuous” did not belong together in any respectable breath. He forced a genuine smile and nod, not wanting to break his spell for even a second. Her connection to the book was too important. (He felt vaguely bad he didn’t care as much for possibly hurting her feelings; the tunnel vision of a collector was a powerful, indiscriminate thing.) “Sounds lovely,” he said miraculously without dry heaving. “Should we say 4:30? Beat the rush?”
She smiled more genuinely this time, the tension in her shoulders relaxing. “Yeah. Good idea. Need me to tell you where it is? It’s only a block or two from here.”
“Oh no no, dear one, I’ll certainly be able to find it.” Meaning, Jahaziel would certainly be able to look it up himself. Speaking of which though, Aziraphale made a small show of looking around the market. “I do believe it may take me a little while to find my partner though. Probably lost in some artist’s booth that paints nebulae, bless him.”
She nodded politely. “‘Course. Meet you there then?”
He gave her a small incline of his head in acknowledgement and parting. Only when she was out of his range did he relax his hold on her, leaving her with a nudge of excited urgency to be sure to meet them in exactly twenty-five minutes. Turning the opposite direction, he let his love for Jahaziel bleed pointedly into the market in front of him like a beacon. It was gust to get the angel's attention since Aziraphale still didn't have a cell phone. Sure enough, not even a second later, the demon felt Jahaziel's spike of confused jealousy coming from somewhere down the street. Silly angel, he thought fondly. Aziraphale knew he'd be there within practically minutes. He sauntered in the direction he sensed him. In front of a tent full of hand-carved wooden oddities, Aziraphale spotted Jahaziel's stock of red hair above the many humans milling about. The angel noticed him as well, coming up to his side and looking around conspiratorially. Protectively. "Right. Where are they?"
Aziraphale thought for a moment that Jahaziel meant Anathema, but that was quite impossible. He laughed, sliding his arm around the small of his beloved's back and patting his chest. "Nowhere, darling." He placed a chaste kiss on Jahaziel's cheek. "Just wanted to find out where you were."
The angel quickly grasped what was going on since it wasn't the first time this had happened. It had just been long enough to where Jahaziel didn't remember straight off that Aziraphale sometimes used this to get his attention. It was somewhat unfair to spur his more negative emotions over this, but it worked, didn't it? Jahaziel rolled his eyes. "Oh hell. Imp. Will you keep just one of the phones that I give you? Maybe activate it and have it on you? This empathetic stuff is so vague and... old fashioned."
"Hmm, texting, though. It’s so impersonal.” Aziraphale wasn’t opposed to phones in general. Talking on them was perfectly fine, and he really did need to keep one on him for that purpose, but his eternal streak of rebelliousness still kept him holding out to this day. “Regardless, I really have met someone I think you'll find quite interesting, my love." He briefly informed Jahaziel of his encounter with Anathema as they walked to Virtuous Crust, leaving out just enough detail to get the angel good and properly intrigued as well. He knew if he mentioned the Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter again, Jahaziel would probably not come along. It admittedly had been a muted obsession of his for quite some time. Now knowing it had a curse of some sort on it, things were finally beginning to fall into place. They walked into the restaurant and were promptly led to a table on the raised part of the restaurant. It was almost empty here at this time of day, luckily, and Aziraphale felt like he couldn't have planned it better. He simply couldn't wait to get into the nitty-gritty of exactly what Anathema had discovered.