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Aziraphale loved Sundays. Not particularly because of any religious or reverential reasoning, which may have been expected from an angel such as himself. No, it was the simple fact that it was socially acceptable for small businesses to be closed on the holy day. Aziraphale loved being closed. No one to come perusing through his collections, no one to try and trade money for his prized volumes.
This is how it always ought to be, thought the angel as he settled down into his armchair with a mug of cocoa. Just himself, his books, and some peace and quiet.
The bell above the store entrance jangled in swift defiance of Aziraphale’s wishes. The angel frowned grumpily and snapped his book closed. He could have sworn he had locked the doors.
“We are closed!” he called as he rose from his chair. The angel rounded the corner from his back room to view the storefront and was pleasantly surprised to see his friend looking over a title on a table near the window.
“Crowley! I wasn’t expecting you,” said Aziraphale cheerfully, although with just a hint of foreboding. It had only been a week since the Apocalypse-that-wasn’t and Aziraphale had quite a keen enthusiasm in nothing of interest happening for the next three centuries. Crowley's presence in his bookshop foreshadowed something a little too close to exciting for his taste. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” asked Aziraphale, his voice a little nervous.
Crowley took off his sunglasses revealing his golden, snakelike eyes. “I was curious,” he said as if that explained everything.
The angel let his head fall to the side in question.
“Well I knew my car didn’t have a scratch on it but I thought, hey, a bookshop’s a bit larger than a car, maybe the little devil spawn had some trouble with it.”
“You thought the child that conjured the city of Atlantis had some trouble with a bookshop.”
Crowley shrugged dismissively. “Well…erm... anyway. I’ve seen it now. And seeing is believing as they say.” The demon gestured vaguely around the room. An awkward silence enveloped the store as Aziraphale regarded his friend cautiously. He was acting a little strange today. All of a sudden, the demon straightened as if an epiphany had struck him. “Show me this prophecy collection I’ve heard so much about, angel.”
Aziraphale shook out of his observation with a blink. He was after all, very proud of his collection. “Right this way, dear boy.” He led him to the back and absorbed himself in telling the demon all about prophetic books, all in pristine condition of course. Crowley watched him fondly as Aziraphale fawned over the texts excitedly, pausing every once and a while to answer one of Crowley’s questions with a rather long-winded explanation. When finally, he was finished, Crowley jumped as if someone had poked him with the nasty end of a cattle prod.
“Well, would you look at the time,” the demon said. His hand flopped in the direction of the walls around him, searching for a clock. “Got to go, people to tempt. Good to see you, angel.”
He left the room before Aziraphale could get a word out in farewell. He was ever so strange sometimes.
**********************************
Aziraphale strolled down the park path a few days later. It was half-past noon and for once the sky was completely free of clouds. For many other park goers that day, the temperature was a little too hot, but the angel didn’t really notice.
What he did notice however was his dear friend of over six thousand years meandering his way toward him along the same path. Aziraphale waved at the demon excitedly to ensure that his friend wouldn’t miss him. Crowley returned a small wave of his own if only to minimize the possibility of someone getting hurt from the angel’s flailing hand. They stopped in front of each other.
“Crowley, dear boy. What are you doing here?” asked the angel.
“What do you mean, I come here all the time,” Crowley mumbled. He gazed at the swimming ducks distractedly.
“I’ve only ever seen you here when I’ve invited you.”
Crowley shrugged. “Hmm.”
“Oh, but this is wonderful. I was having a lovely time, but running into you has made it so much better. Will you walk with me?”
“Mmm.”
Aziraphale gave him a blinding smile. They walked along the path together, the angel pointing out all of his favorite flowers, including a small purple kind at the edge of the fence line. He did hope the gardeners didn’t pull them out. They were so lovely.
If Crowley noticed the flowers teleport to flowerbed near the poplar trees, he didn’t say anything. In fact, he didn’t say much of anything at all. He just walked by Aziraphale’s side.
The angel quieted down after a while too. He quite enjoyed the companionship.
**********************************
Two days after Aziraphale’s impromptu rendezvous with the demon Crowley in the park, the angel sat in his favorite armchair with an old book on the history of baking which had mysteriously been mailed to his shop. He was getting to a very interesting part about cocket breads when his telephone rang. Aziraphale frowned. It seemed that his telephone was ringing every day now. He rose from his seat and picked up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Angel, it’s me.”
Aziraphale’s frown became a smile in a second. “Crowley! It is good to hear your voice!”
“Ah, yes, well. Good to hear you too, angel.” The demon sounded strained. “Listen, would you like to meet me for lunch tomorrow? You can pick the place. I don’t really care where it is. Actually, I never care. You should pick all of the places. It’s no problem. But it doesn’t have to be tomorrow. If that doesn’t work for you. Does today work better?”
Aziraphale blinked in the manner which he’d seen humans do when they wanted the world to slow down.
“Are you alright, Crowley?”
“Yes,” said Crowley.
“Alright then.” Aziraphale checked his golden pocket watch. “As it turns out I am available today for lunch.”
“Good,” said Crowley.
“Are you sure you’re alright, dear boy?”
“Yes,” said Crowley.
Aziraphale started to speak again but he then heard the unmistakable sound of their connection being broken. The angel raised an eyebrow. The sly demon must have hung up on him without saying goodbye. How very evil of him.
He replaced the receiver in its cradle and took two steps toward his armchair before the telephone rang again.
“Oh, for-” The angel forcefully brought the receiver to his ear. “What?”
“Where are we going to lunch exactly?” Crowley asked.
Aziraphale relaxed. “That is an excellent question, dear boy….”
************************************************
There was a knock at the door of the angel’s bookshop.
“Come in,” Aziraphale called.
In came the demon known as Crowley. He looked around the shop from behind his dark sunglasses.
“Can you believe the weather we’re having?” said the demon.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale put down his stack of books. “I wasn’t expecting you, today.”
The demon cleared his throat.
The angel looked around in wonder. “You know, now that I think about it, my dear, I do believe I’ve seen you more the last two weeks than I have in the past five years.”
“Really?” Crowley said.
“Well, of course, there was the ‘ apocalypse,’ ” Aziraphale said, using air quotes correctly for the first time in a millennium. “Which I am very glad we put aside our differences and were able to work together for.”
“Right,” said the demon.
“And then I’ve seen you six more times this past week,” concluded the angel, smiling, feeling very proud of himself for keeping track of their interactions.
The demon made a sort of choking noise in the back of his throat.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you today, Crowley?”
Crowley looked around the book shop and shrugged. “Well, I thought - erm - actually I have to go.” He turned on the spot. “Goodbye, angel.”
The bell rang on the door as it closed behind him.
“Oh,” Aziraphale said. “Goodbye then.”
*********************************
Aziraphale sat at his old letter desk a month later and took a sip of his cocoa. It was getting a little chillier outside and it was the perfect weather in Aziraphale’s opinion to drink his preferred beverage. He wondered if Crowley was enjoying the weather. He knew he sometimes got a little grumpy in the winter months. The angel had long believed it to be a behavior stolen from his propensity for taking the form of a cold-blooded animal.
The angel frowned as he thought. He hadn’t heard from his friend in a month. This was very unusual, especially since the demon had been so frequently attending their usual meetings leading up to the apocalypse-that-wasn’t.
Perhaps the demon had some business he had to attend to elsewhere. He would call him later.
*********************************
Crowley still had not called him three months later and the angel was beginning to worry. What if the other side had found out about their ruse? What if Crowley had returned to that horrible place.
The angel rose from his seat and dialed his friend’s telephone. He waited but got nothing but a full voicemail box. The angel’s eyebrows came together in slight frustration.
He tried again. This time, the voicemail box was miraculously empty.
“Crowley, dear. It’s Aziraphale. I haven’t heard from you in a while. Please call me whenever you get this. We’ll go to lunch somewhere nice. Have a good day, dear! Goodbye!”
*********************************
It had been seven months since Aziraphale had spoken to Crowley and the angel had had quite enough.
He walked down the path quickly, much faster than he would if he was enjoying a day at the park. He was on his way to Crowley’s flat.
The angel crossed the street and let himself into the building. He made his way up the stairs stopping once to have a short conversation with a neighbor’s cat, Reggie, and was soon in front of the demon’s door.
He knocked twice and waited. No one answered. He tried again to be polite, but when no one came the third time the angel miracled the door open. He shut it quietly behind him.
“Crowley?”
He looked around. Nothing seemed out of place.
“Crowley?” he asked again.
He heard a crash from the bedroom. The angel hesitated only a moment before he called out. “I don’t know who’s there, but... I’m coming in!”
The angel shuffled quickly to the bedroom’s threshold. There, he saw the demon Crowley halfway out the high window, his long gangly legs kicking at the wall uselessly as he tried to heave himself out of the room.
“Crowley!” the angel exclaimed.
The demon stilled, resulting in his body sliding down the wall slowly until his feet rest on the ground. He took his arms out of the window and turned casually to face Aziraphale.
“Oh, hi there, angel.”
“What on earth are you doing?” said Aziraphale.
“I’m… there was a duck.”
The angel frowned and walked into the room. “Were you climbing out the window?”
“Nngh,” said Crowley.
“Are you....” Aziraphale started, “Avoiding me?”
Crowley’s eyebrows rose above his dark sunglasses. “No.”
“You are.”
“Am not.”
“I haven’t seen you in months!” Aziraphale argued.
“I was sleeping,” Crowley said.
“I called you several times,” retorted Aziraphale.
“I’m a very heavy sleeper.”
Aziraphale’s shoulders slumped. “I was afraid something terrible had happened.”
“Oh,” said Crowley.
“Please come and have lunch with me,” said Aziraphale.
“I thought… I thought you were getting tired of me,” said Crowley.
“Whatever do you mean, dear boy?”
The demon waved his hand in the air vaguely. “You know… the other day. I thought you said I was spending too much time with you.”
Aziraphale scowled, trying to remember this incident. “No, you silly old serpent. I just said you were visiting more than usual.”
Crowley frowned.
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
The edges of Crowley’s eyebrows peeked over the tops of his glasses hopefully.
“Actually, I do believe I prefer it,” said the angel.
“Oh,” said Crowley.
Aziraphale smiled at his demon and shook his head. He was quite silly sometimes.
“Well, why didn’t you say something,” said Crowley. “Let’s go to lunch. You pick.”