Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pepper rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out in the ornate mirror in her mum's new bookshop. The light from the wall-to-wall windows grew with the afternoon, and that stuffy old angel, Mr. Aziraphale, was muttering about, having been consulted by her mother on whatever it was that bookshop owners did. Her mother had decided on the idea after chatting with Tadfield’s newest resident, Anathema, who had told Pepper and her friends that she was “an occultist”, but Pepper knew better. Then the two had discovered they had a common interest, and collaborated on a “New Age” bookshop, which Pepper understood was the drivel in those magazines Adam had picked up from Anathema, like New Aquarium.

“You’ve tracked mud in again!” her mother fretted, rushing over with a mop. “What have I told you about cleaning up before coming into the shop?!” Pepper sighed. Her mum hated mud more than most, thanks to the commune they’d lived at for a time when Pepper was little. Pepper loved mud, though. What was especially great was helping her new friend, Lochlan, take care of plants in the new greenhouse his parents had opened up near Hogback Lane recently. It wasn’t her fault that gardening was fun, or that mud was delightful to play in.
“Sorry, mum--”
“I can’t bloody well open a shop with mud tracks all over it”.

At least Adam, Brian, and Wensleydale would be there any minute. She heard the bell of Adam’s bike ring.
“Pepper!”
She dashed out the door, tracking more mud, although her mother hadn’t seen. She was now mulling over the book selection with Mr. Aziraphale.
Pepper almost tripped over something once outside. “Ow!” Mr. Crowley’s boots? “Watch it!” she yelled. “You watch it, those were bloody expensive”, said the lanky figure lurking--unsuccessfully, she thought--in the corner of the bookshop front near the door. Smoke wafted out from the cigarette he was enjoying. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Pretty sure lurking doesn’t involve tripping people”.
“It’s not my fault you’re clumsy”.
Pepper stuck out her tongue and ran down the street to meet The Them.
Crowley snarled. He and Aziraphale had come up to visit from their cottage in the South Downs, renting one of the ones near Jasmine. He didn’t mind kids, so much as their attitude. Aziraphale would say it was a taste of his own medicine.
As usual, the angel was right. He glanced at his watch, which told him that Aziraphale was a few hours late from when he’d said he’d be home. They were supposed to go to a cafe down the street.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. It’d started on this trip, really, Crowley thought, because Pepper’s mum had the mad idea to open up a bookshop. Aziraphale, of course, didn’t subscribe to any of the nonsense the shop was peddling, but it was books and he’d been elated.

He tossed the cigarette butt and sauntered through the door. Immediately he could hear Aziraphale prattling on excitedly about book placements.
“Aziraphale”. The drawl echoed across the room, dampening the excitement.
“Crowley--!”
“You’re two hours late to that coffee shop you’d wanted to go to”. The demon was trying to remain calm, but he was on edge, raising an eyebrow.
“I--” Aziraphale was blushing hard now, although Crowley knew it was more from embarrassment than anything. “I’m so sorry, my dear boy, I--I lost track of time. Ms. Moonchild needs my help finishing up this latest project”.

“Nyeah…’s fine”, Crowley shrugged. Of course he was lying. Bless it, why did he still do that?
“Just…come find me when you’re done”.
He sauntered out dejectedly. He knew that Aziraphale would still be able to tell that was he was upset. He’d probably get a scolding for the lying, too.

We’ve always found each other…but lately he hasn’t wanted to find me.

Chapter Text

So much for a vacation, Crowley thought as he sauntered down the cobblestone street to the quaint cafe he and Aziraphale had been planning to meet at. He thought he saw a familiar face in the far corner as the door swung behind him. He’d forgotten this was the only cafe in town, so there would be no escape from any of the humans he was trying to avoid.
“Newt. Your significant other ditch you too?”
Newt looked like a lost puppy. “...she’s preparing to teach classes at Pepper’s mum’s bookstore, apparently”.
Crowley signed, sitting down. “Do people in this bloody town just have nothing to do?!”
“Apparently not”. Newt frowned. “What’s Mr. Aziraphale up to..?”
“Oh, same thing. The ruddy bookshop that no one can seem to stay away from, because it’s the only thing going on around here”. He crossed his arms, working his jaw.

“What kind of wine do they have at this place…” Newt heard him mutter, almost inaudibly, as he looked down at a menu.
“Oh, nothing fancy. Just—"
Crowley shut the menu so abruptly that Newt jumped in his seat.
“Then I don’t want it”.
Newt looked to the side for a minute nervously.
“Okay--look, I know this isn’t your type of—well, anything--”
Crowley scoffed, arms still crossed, looking away.
“--but if Mr. Aziraphale is enjoying himself--”
“--he is. Without me”.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that”. Newt cleared his throat and shrugged. “If it makes you feel any better, Anathema’s been quite preoccupied lately with her occult practices now that she doesn’t have the burden of Agnes’ prophecies hanging over her head. I wouldn’t want to hold her back”.
Crowley raised an eyebrow and just sat there, frowning at him now for probably a whole minute, Newt thought, before he responded, nearly hissing.

“...this isn’t a practice. He already knows all this stuff. This is just avoidance”.

Newt thought for a minute. Anathema wasn’t...avoiding him, was she?

“...You might be onto something there”.
Crowley raised an eyebrow again. “I’m always onto something”.
“Well...yes. You’ve made me question her motives, I suppose”.
Crowley grinned. Still got it. But truly, he hadn’t done that on purpose. He was convinced Aziraphale was avoiding him. He hadn’t meant to stir up Newt’s suspicion and drive a potential wedge into their relationship…and yet.

Chapter Text

Anathema removed her glasses, sighing. She’d selected the books for her upcoming occult studies class carefully, but couldn’t decide how to arrange them. The ivory-cushioned chairs were situated round a circular table in the middle of the bookshop’s back room, its tea stand adorned with cakes.
She kept fidgeting and re-arranging things; this would be her first class, after all. Newt had been supportive, if not completely understanding. He’d offered to help, but she’d refused. She needed to plan for this alone. She didn’t want to seem like she was avoiding him, but really he was just getting in the way.
For this first class, they’d be working with botanical magic, so she’d added a few flowers to the table.

“That a gardenia? I read those can carry secret messages”, came a child’s voice suddenly behind her.

Anathema turned to see a blond-curled, slightly disheveled child about Adam’s age staring back at her curiously.

“…I can see you’ve done your homework”. She raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah…I’ve been reading up on magic. Interesting stuff, especially when your parents aren’t always around”.

“Quite a good use of your time”, Anathema smiled. “Well, it’s your lucky day, because I’m teaching botanical magic…” she began moving some of the vases around.

“I can help you set them up, if you like”.

Her smile widened. “That’d be great”.

***

Newt was still trying to wrap his brain around what Crowley had been saying. They were taking a walk down the high street, away from the bookshop, the crisp autumn air bringing a chill, the leaves crunching under their feet. Newt could still smell the hot cocoa from the cafe they’d left.
“I think you’re right”, Newt mused. “But, what should we do about it?”
Crowley shrugged. “Maybe...annoy them until they realise what they’ve done”.
“No. That’d just make it worse”.
Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s worked for me before. Make a few books fly around, coffee spill, y’know…”
“...Anathema’d kill me if any of that happened. Please do not do that. No miracles”.
Crowley was clenching and unclenching his fists. He’d been itching to do miracles, keep up his reputation although he wasn’t working for Hell anymore....it was a compulsion that was hard to break. Aziraphale was fine doing his good deeds for everyone, but he had expressed apprehension at Crowley doing any of his. So not only was Aziraphale avoiding him, Crowley thought, he was also being a little controlling. He would have a double reason to get back at Aziraphale.

Maybe he could come up with something that would get both Aziraphale’s and Anathema’s attention, prove him right about them. A mischievous grin began making its way across his face. He was onto something.

***

Anathema had learned that her new friend’s name was Lochlan, pronouns he/him, and that he was originally from The Cotswolds, on the Oxfordshire side, not far from Tadfield. His parents were horticulturists, and ran a greenhouse in Tadfield now. They’d been running their business and couldn’t always be home, at which point Lochlan explained he’d met Adam and his friends while out walking, and Pepper had told him about the bookshop. He’d bonded with Pepper over having busy parents, and not feeling a sense of belonging really anywhere. He’d looked up books on plant magic while in the shop to help understand why he connected with plants so deeply.

Anathema quickly discovered how this connection manifested. The plants actually moved in positive response to Lochlan’s gestures and words. Crowley would not like this. She couldn’t wait to see his response.

Lochlan was helping her arrange the flowers, when out of nowhere, some of them began levitating.
“Okay….that’s not part of my class…” Anathema backed away from the table.
“It’s not me!”
“Then who…” but Anathema immediately knew, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, don’t worry—” Lochlan was saying. “I think I can bring them back down”. And sure enough, Lochlan raised his arms and the flowers gently spun back onto the table, just as they’d been arranged.
Anathema heard a faint hissing towards the back of the shop. She straightened her glasses and called out, “get out of there, you fiend”. A nearby pile of books moved.

Aziraphale had heard the commotion from the stock room. “Fiend? Do we have a demonic invasion again?”
“Yes, and he’s about to ruin my class. Shouldn’t you be watching him?”, Anathema shot back, muttering a spell that could change him back. She’d promised to not use it frivolously, but this was unacceptable.
“I’m not a babysitter--!” Aziraphale was whining as Crowley poofed back into human form.

“Ow! What the Heaven, Book Girl--!” he massaged his neck. Anathema and Aziraphale were glaring at him.
“Babysitting?!” Crowley spat. “Is that what you think of me?!”
“Darling, I--”
“No, I get it. I’m a burden. That’s why you’re here all the time”.
Aziraphale said softly, “is that what this is about?”
“Ngk”.
From the shop front, they heard cheers and “that was awesome!!” from the kids who had gathered to watch. “Coolest class ever! Brilliant special effects!”
Crowley grinned.
Anathema wanted to scream.

***

“If you’re done messing with my flowers”, Anathema was still angry, but was determined to get back at Crowley, “there’s someone I’d like you to meet. Crowley, this is Lochlan”. The adept waved shyly. “He’s been teaching himself plant magic. Look”. Lochlan gestured, and the gardenia moved.
Crowley raised an eyebrow.
“But…can you make them grow..?”
“Haven’t gotten there yet…would take much more energy”.
“How do you do that, then?”
Lochlan shrugged. “Just love, really. You just have to be gentle”.
“Don’t say that—” Aziraphale started, but Anathema shushed him, thoroughly amused.
“No, he needs to hear this”.
Crowley was trying to comprehend the audacity of this, a completely befuddled expression on his face. “What—what did you say..?”
“If you raise that eyebrow any higher”, Aziraphale teased, “you’re going to break something. Come, why don’t you and I have a chat..?”
“A—chat—” Crowley couldn’t even talk.

Chapter Text

“You have only yourself to blame”, Aziraphale was scolding Crowley now, as the demon sprawled himself across one of the couches.
“You decided to act out, after all. I didn’t make you do anything”.
“Yes, you did. You’ve been ignoring me and hanging out at this place for two weeks. What was I supposed to do, stare at the ceiling? You know I don’t do well on my own”. He turned his back to Aziraphale, crossing his arms.

Aziraphale sighed. “I suppose I have been…well, inattentive...it wasn’t my intention, dear boy. You know I can’t resist a bookshop--”
“Yeah, well, I thought you couldn’t resist me”.
“...Are you jealous?! Of a bookshop?!”
Crowley frowned. “Maybe. I’m not jealous of your bookshop. You always let me visit there. And at least that one has alcohol”.

Aziraphale paused. “I suppose...I wanted to distract myself after...you know…” “And you couldn’t do that with me?!”
“I--I wanted to, but…”
“But what?!”
Aziraphale sighed again. “It--it was all too confusing, Crowley, I...I’m no good at any of this. I thought if I could throw myself into book work again, especially elsewhere, I could…re-establish a routine”.
“That’s what you wanted to do after all that?!”
Crowley shook his head. “Now is the best chance we have, don’t you see? We’re starting our new lives. It’s a chance for something different, if anything is. Not just doing a different version of the same thing...!”

Aziraphale’s lip was trembling a bit; he was almost crying. He knew Crowley was right. He had just been scared. He’d never dealt well with changing old habits, or…those blasted things the humans called emotions.

“Then…you must help me. Stop me from running away again, in the way that I have…”

“Listen, love”, Crowley almost whispered, stepping beside him to massage his hand with his thumb, “I’m here for you, okay? Always have been…and I need you to stay with me now. Forget all this other stuff. I want to be the object of your affections, not books”. Aziraphale laughed through what Crowley noticed were slight tears. “You are jealous of a bookshop”.
“Yes. And I lied, I’m jealous of your shop, too”.
“Well, I’m jealous of your car--!”
Crowley gasped incredulously.

Chapter Text

Anathema was giving Crowley and Aziraphale their space, letting Lochlan tend to the plants when Newt walked in.
“How’s it going in here—”
“Unbelievable, mostly”, Anathema sounded exasperated. “I’ve got a kid who’s great with plant magic somehow, and a demon who can’t stop interfering with my class”.

So he’d done the miracle anyway. Great.
“I’d say that last part is believable”, Newt corrected.
“I told him not to do it…”
“Told him? You two hanging out lately?”
New gulped. “Well, yes, a bit”.
He wasn’t going to…but he couldn’t stop himself.
“It’s just…I haven’t seen you lately, you’ve been holed up here and—and studying…”
“This is a source of income for me, Newt. For us. Don’t we want a bigger house eventually? Have a family or something? Plus, you know I can’t just sit at home”.

A bigger house? A family?

“Okay, well….I mean, yes, but…I would just…like to see you more, that’s all…” “You’re adorable”, she pushed a stray strand of his hair aside. “I’m not ignoring you. This stuff just takes practice and preparation. I don’t need Agnes to tell me what to do now. And I’ve got to hone my skills to teach. I want to use them for something”.

“Fair enough…” Newt suddenly felt very guilty.

***

“Listen”, Anathema was telling Lochlan after the class, “you’re welcome to hang out here when your parents are at the greenhouse. It can be like your home away from home. And I’d be happy to teach you more plant magic”.
“I would like to learn plant magic”, said Pepper, who’d attended the class out of curiosity, “so that I can have an overgrown garden that R.P. Tyler will complain about”.
“Did I hear something about a greenhouse?” she heard Crowley ask from across the room.
“His parents own a greenhouse over by Adam’s house”, Anathema said as Crowley and Aziraphale walked back up. “Sounds like they could use some help, too”.
Aziraphale looked knowingly at Crowley.
“I think we would like to stay in town for a while, if you and Newt don’t mind”.
“Well, I certainly don’t mind”, Ms. Moonchild emerged from the stock room, clearing the desserts. “Mr. Aziraphale has been so helpful with the ordering, merchandising, and baking--!”.

“Baking…” Crowley’s tone was slightly jealous, but he caught himself.

“And”, Anathema was saying with a wink, “maybe, Lochlan, you could teach Mr. Crowley a thing or two about how to be nice to plants”.
Crowley almost hissed, but let it pass.

Aziraphale said, “looks like we have all found our own versions of ‘home’ here”.

Crowley pulled Aziraphale to his side and the two of them gazed lovingly at each other.

The gardenias nodded in agreement.

***

“You stole a gardenia”, Crowley mused once they were back at their cottage.

“Anathema did say I could take it. I do love them”.

“Is that right”. Crowley pulled a rolled-up piece of paper from beneath the leaves with mock surprise. “Oh, look! What’s this…”

Aziraphale looked annoyed. “Where did that come from…” he took the paper from Crowley’s hand.

The paper read:

Hey, angel. You’ll always be my home. X

Aziraphale’s hands shook as Crowley embraced him.