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Chapter Text

     “So!” Mary began, smiling and gently setting down the delicate rose-patterned chine cup containing her tea. “How’s retirement treating you?”

     Aziraphale chuckled, setting aside his own tea in favor of the blueberry scones he’d bought from the bakery a few blocks over. “Rather wonderful, actually. I never thought I’d be able to properly relax after our, erm, failed executions, but it’s been three weeks and I’ve never felt better!”

     “Oh, I’m so glad,” the young woman sighed, sipping her tea. “I was worried you’d still be on guard, Crowley’s been stress cleaning so much I had to hide his favorite sponge and duster in my flat.”

     Aziraphale raised his eyebrows and grinned in amusement. “Crowley has a favorite sponge and duster?” he asked, eyes sparkling with delight.

     Mary nodded, her own warm brown eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh yes, you have no idea! Every so often he goes on a tirade about how the company slightly changed his preferred brand, and now he has to try them all and see which sponge adequately scours every inch of his pristine flat of any and all foreign contaminants. He just broke this one in, one of the large Mr. Clean’s, so he’s particularly pissed at me. But,” she sighed airily, daintily sipping her tea, “it’s for his own good. Now he has to sit with the existential dread like the rest of us.”

     Aziraphale giggled. “Or get a new sponge, I suppose…”

     Mary shrugged, then reached for a scone. “In theory, but he’s probably just moping about in his study with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, trying to work up the energy to scream at his houseplants—”

     “Oh! Speaking of which…..” Aziraphale looked furtively around them in what to an outside observer would appear an overdramatic fashion, but Mary knew he was just being himself, then continued, “when next you’re there, can you tell me if he has a Tradescantia Nanouk Fluminen Lilac? They’re extremely rare, and look like this.” He handed Mary a folded-up paper bearing an image of the beautiful plant. “If not, that’s what I’m getting him for our anniversary. Or, month-iversary,” he corrected himself, frowning distastefully, “as he calls it. What do you think?”

     Mary smiled lovingly at her angelic friend. “Oh, it’s perfect, Zira! He’ll love it, and I’m 90% sure he doesn’t have one, but 120% sure he’ll absolutely love it.”

     Aziraphale wiggled with delight, then settled back into his seat to enjoy his refreshments. “Oh thank you, my dear—you’re ever so helpful. And more than welcome to join us during our “Bureaucratic Emancipation” dinner, of course—”

     Mary shook her head, still smiling warmly. “Thank you again, but not a chance, that’s you and Crowley’s celebration, I’d just be in the way.”

     Aziraphale frowned. “You most certainly would not! And in many ways it’s your celebration too, my dear.” The angel laid a warm, soft hand over hers gently, blue eyes shining with love at his human friend. “Without your, oh how shall I put it—helpful nudges?”

     “Shoves?” laughed Mary.

     Aziraphale chuckled. “Helpful shoves, then—that wily old serpent and I never would have admitted our feelings for each other, which played a not-insignificant role in wanting to thwart our respective offices and prevent Armageddon.”

    Mary pouted. “Aw…and here I thought you saved the world just so I wouldn’t die in a blood-soaked wasteland…….” She and Aziraphale laughed. “Seriously though, it had been 6,000 years; you two needed to get on with it already. And I would much rather stay home and watch bad horror movies than be a third wheel at your special dinner, though I am honored by you wanting to include me.”

     Aziraphale smiled at her warmly, angelic love radiating outward from his aura. “You’re a very sweet girl. Still, if you change your mind—” The angel stopped suddenly and went rigid, glancing with wide, terrified eyes at the door leading out of the kitchen and into the bookshop. Mary frowned and set down her tea cup carefully; the clink of it meeting the saucer was enough to make him jump slightly.

     “What’s wrong, Zira? Is it—do you sense something?” she asked nervously, looking toward the door as well.

     The angel licked his lips nervously, then took a deep inhale and tried to smile, but it looked more like a pained grimace. “Um, nothing, my dear—just—I think I may have, um—” Both he and Mary jumped at a sharp knock on the door to the bookshop. Normally Aziraphale would just annoyedly huff and call out, “We are closed, as the sign clearly says on the door!”, but today he got up quickly, anxiously fingering the gold ring on his hand. “Um, I’ll—I’ll be right back,” he said distractedly to the human, who had stood up as well. “No please, sit—I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, really,” he laughed nervously.

     Mary’s brow furrowed deeper. “What do you mean? What is it, is it—”

     “It’s nothing,” Aziraphale repeated firmly, indicating with his hands that she should sit down. “Please, just—just, no matter what happens, stay back here, okay?” His blue eyes were wide and pleading, but as much as Mary loved the angel, they did not have the same effect on her as they did Crowley.

     “No, you’re clearly terrified! I’m coming out with—” she began stubbornly, only for Aziraphale to sigh and snap his fingers, his expression now apologetic. Mary found herself back in the comfortable armchair, unable to stand. She gasped in shock and glared at him, fidgeting but unable to move much.

     “I’m terribly sorry my dear,” he apologized quickly, glancing back at the door as the knocking grew more aggressive and louder, “but I need you safe. I’ll—I’ll be right back,” he repeated doubtfully, then snapped himself away.

     Mary would have groaned loudly or screamed or something, but the angel had also removed her voice. Sighing, she crossed her arms and continued to fidget, searching for a weak spot in the angel’s spell. She could hear nothing save the grandfather clock ticking in the corner and her heart pounding as she worried for Aziraphale and struggled harder for freedom. After a few minutes, she effortlessly flew out of the seat, as though gravity had immediately eased its hold on her. Mary lay panting on all fours, staring at the carpet in shock for a few seconds, then jumped up and carefully opened the door leading out of Aziraphale’s private quarters.

     As soon as she did, she heard unfamiliar voices: one snide and nasally, the other more feminine and brisker. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their tones were patronizing and vaguely threatening. When Aziraphale stuttered something in his friendly tenor, she inhaled sharply and began tiptoeing down the hall. As she did, the voices grew more distinct:

     “Is this all really necessary?” Aziraphale asked; Mary imagined him smiling nervously and wringing his hands as he did so. “After all, we’ve already settled—”

     “We have settled nothing, traitor,” hissed what now sounded very much like a woman’s voice, though no woman Mary would ever care to meet. “You ruined everything, and then somehow eluded punishment. We still haven’t figured out how—”

      Mary gasped involuntarily, then covered her mouth. They were angels! Oh crap, what was she going to do? How could she, a mere human, help a principality get rid of what were probably three rather high-ranking celestial beings?

     The answer presented itself in the form of a fourth voice, a charming baritone laced with anger and condescension; or rather, the emotions it elicited in Mary.

     “Aziraphale,” the third unknown being simpered as Mary creeped toward the bookshop proper and tried to flatten herself against the wall in the shadows. “You knew this was coming; did you seriously think we would just, I don’t know, pretend that all never happened?”

     Mary took a deep breath, then peered around the corner. Through the cracks in several bookshelves full of fascinating tomes, the woman glimpsed Aziraphale staring in terror at three tall beings in blinding white, tailored clothing; the middle one, a classically handsome man with short brown hair and chiseled features, was slowly advancing toward the petrified principality like a lion approaching its prey.

     “You’re not special, Aziraphale,” the predatory being continued, matter-of-factly. “You’re not clever, or creative, or powerful, or strong. You’re a weak, stupid, lazy good-for-nothing who somehow managed, with a demon’s help, to stop the Almighty’s plans from succeeding.”

     “W-well, as you’ll remember, G-Gabriel—” Aziraphale stammered. Gabriel! Thought Mary, glaring at the advancing angel. So it’s like that, is it?

     “Don’t you interrupt me, you pathetic excuse for an—” began the archangel viciously, only to be interrupted by a human woman storming into the bookshop from the back, brown eyes glaring furiously at him.

     “How dare you speak to him like that?!” she hissed venomously, situating herself in the two yards between Aziraphale and Gabriel and facing the latter, hands on her hips. “He is the kindest, cleverest, strongest angel you’ll ever meet, with more creativity and power than your infinitesimal brains could possibly fathom!”

Aziraphale blinked in astonishment at the brave human insulting his former supervisor, who himself looked even more surprised. Gabriel’s bravado had all but vanished, and for several seconds he could do nothing but take a step back, frown slightly and look her up and down.

     “Who are you?” Gabriel asked, trying to sound imperious but falling short in the face of the human’s fiery gaze. “What is the meaning of this?”

     Aziraphale recovered and laughed nervously, taking Mary’s right hand. “Ah yes, so sorry—dear, you should be running along—” he added in an urgent hiss, trying to pull her away.

     Mary gently wrenched her hand free and shook her head. “No! I’m not leaving until this jackass and his sycophants have,” she said, gesturing dismissively at Gabriel as though he were a rubbish bin.

     Aziraphale gasped, made the sign of the cross and apologetically smiled at Gabriel, then tried to pull her away again. “For Heaven’s sake are you trying to get yourself destroyed?!” he hissed, face terrified.

     Mary once again freed her hand, then crossed her arms and shrugged. “I don’t care,” she stated, daring the angels to try something with her brazen expression. “Let them. Let them destroy a defenseless human defending and trying to protect her innocent angelic friend—”

     “Friend?” asked a short, balding, male-shaped being in a tan suit, saying the word slowly as if it were a disgusting concept. “Traitor, you’re fraternizing with the humans too, then?”

     “No wonder you wanted to save their pathetic, meaningless sphere,” a tall, stylish female-presenting angel sneered, arms crossed over her blazer and gazing at Mary haughtily. “Human, if you leave right now, we will perhaps overlook this…….incident. If you do not—”

     “---then you’re going to very much wish I had,” interrupted Mary darkly, glaring at Michael as if she were nothing more than an unpleasant customer. “I don’t give a damn who you are, you will treat Aziraphale with respect—”

     “This doesn’t concern you!” snapped the balding angel threateningly. “If you don’t leave immediately I will be forced to—”

     “No, please!” pleaded Aziraphale, moving in front of her. “She doesn’t mean any harm, she just—”

     “Yes I DO mean them harm if they don’t get their holy asses out of here in the next ten seconds!” Mary argued vehemently, moving back in front of Aziraphale and narrowing her eyes dangerously at the archangels.

     Gabriel chuckled and smiled at her patronizingly. “Listen, sweetheart, why don’t you—”

     “WHAT,” began Mary in a dangerously dark, low voice, brown eyes now cold as ice, “did you just call me, Archangel Gabriel?”

     Aziraphale sighed heavily; he knew what was coming. Gabriel did not, and as such, blinked bemusedly and replied, “Um, ‘sweetheart?’”

     Mary stared blankly, coldly and silently at him. Gabriel stared back with increasing fear, and Aziraphale’s blue eyes ping-ponged between the human and the archangel.

     Finally, when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer, Gabriel tentatively asked, glancing from her to Aziraphale for confirmation, “I-is that not a human term of endearment for a—for a woman?” Looking sideways at nothing, Aziraphale widened his eyes and bit his lip, but otherwise did not react to Gabriel’s question.

     Mary raised her eyebrows and replied with terrifying calmness, “For women? No, no it’s—it’s not, really. What it IS, though—” she continued, smiling darkly.

     “Oh dear God in Heaven,” muttered the angel, looking away.

      “–is extremely sexist,” she explained, counting off the term’s moral failings on her hand, “demeaning, passive-aggressive and infantilizing, reGARDless of the recipient’s gender, unless said with consent to a child, significant other or friend.”

     Gabriel frowned and blinked rapidly, looking more confused and vaguely terrified Aziraphale had ever seen him.

     “And as I am neither your child,” Mary continued, “nor your significant other, nor your friend, nor would I allow my heart to continue beating if I were any of these, I take great personal offense to your usage of that ‘term of endearment.’ Sweet cheeks,” she added, smiling evilly.

     The angels behind Gabriel, who cocked his head like a German shepherd at the new nickname, gasped in horror. The balding one growled and raised his hand, but before he could do anything, Gabriel turned around and cried, “No!” and held out a placating hand to the shocked angel. Mary turned and frowned up at Aziraphale, who looked equally perplexed. “Don’t. She’s fine, she can—she’s fine,” Gabriel continued, looking from him to the taller one until they both nodded reluctantly. Satisfied, the archangel turned back and looked at Mary curiously, as though he had never seen anything quite like her before. “What is your name, human?” he asked, tone and aura calmer now.

     The woman drew herself up loftily. “Mary Stable,” she replied, watching the archangels carefully.

     Gabriel blinked, then his lips twitched upwards in a wide, amused smile, almost as though he were unaware of it. “Mary?” he asked incredulously. “Your name is….Mary?”

     “Um, yeah. That’s what I said,” she confirmed, taking a step back and glancing at Aziraphale nervously. The principality looked positively flabbergasted at what was taking place, as did the two archangels behind Gabriel, who were looking at him as though he had lost his mind.

     “That’s a beautiful name,” he said softly, almost dreamily. “Not many humans are named that anymore, it seems.”

     Mary blinked. “No, I guess not,” she replied with sarcastic brightness, stunned at the archangel’s reaction to her insulting him. “Wha—can you three just—like, leave?”

     The female-presenting angel opened her mouth, but Gabriel glanced back and shook his head with an expression of, ‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it.’ Turning back to the woman, he flashed a brilliant smile with blindingly white, perfect, straight teeth and friendly eyes. Oh God he really does have purple eyes, she thought, grimacing slightly. Why would he do that? It looks like a damn infection!

     “Yes, we will leave,” Gabriel said kindly to Mary, who raised a skeptical eyebrow and opened her mouth slightly. The angels behind him frowning in great concern at the archangel, who nodded to Aziraphale as if he hadn’t called him ‘pathetic’ only minutes earlier. “Aziraphale. Good to see you.”

     Aziraphale opened his mouth, closed it, repeated himself, then stammered, “Um, uh yes! Yes, you as well, um, Archangel Gabriel.”

     Gabriel nodded again, then extended a large, slightly tanned hand to Mary, grinning hopefully. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Stable.”

     Mary glanced back and forth between Gabriel’s proffered hand and his shining face, frowning with suspicious bemusement. After a few seconds, she smiled sarcastically, chuckled “Likewise,” and moved so she was slightly behind Aziraphale, staring with abhorrence at the archangel’s hand. Gabriel’s expression fell at her refusal to shake his hand, but he quickly recovered and nodded to both her and the principality, bringing both hands behind his back once more.

     “What are you—” began the female angel in a low, alarmed voice, but Gabriel firmly muttered, “We’ll discuss it later,” glanced back at Mary with a smile, then opened the door for his colleagues to exit first. Once they had, Gabriel hesitated a moment, as if he were about to say something, then shook his head and exited.

     Aziraphale and Mary stood in silence for a full two minutes before Aziraphale burst out into very un-angelic laughter. Mary frowned down at the doubled-over principality in concern. “A-are you okay?” she asked nervously.

     Aziraphale nodded, trying not to laugh and straightening up. “Yes my dear, so sorry. It’s just—you were magnificent!” he squealed, smiling brightly at Mary and hugging her warmly. “Oh, I’ve wanted to tell him off like that for millennia!! I mean, of course, you should have stayed in the back, where it was safe,” he continued, releasing and looking at her sternly. “Why in Heaven’s name--”

     “Because I was worried about you!” Mary cried, placing her hands on the angel’s shoulders. “I mean, YOU’RE the one who released me, anyway!”

     “Not intentionally!” Aziraphale insisted emphatically. “Sometimes that happens when I get distracted—”

     “Or bullied?”

        Aziraphale gave her a look, then smiled and hugged her again warmly. “I appreciate your concern, Miss Stable. You are a true friend.”

     “Yes I am,” agreed Mary, releasing and grinning up at the principality. “Now, let’s go tell Crowley so we get to hear his duck laugh.”

Chapter Text

     Mary was once again in the bookshop when Aziraphale felt an angelic presence, though this was much less threatening than the last. Really not threatening at all, except that the host of said presence was….unwelcome, to say the least.

     “What’s he doing back?” Mary complained, frowning and peering out the window at the sharp-dressed Archangel waving at them from the sidewalk in front of the entrance. “Is he gonna hurt you, do you think?”

     “I don’t think so,” Aziraphale muttered incredulously, frowning and shaking his head bemusedly as pedestrians walked around Gabriel as if he wasn’t there. “He would never come here by himself to do that, he would at least send Sandalphon….”

     “The bald guy with the gold teeth?”

     “That’s the one.”

     “Ah.”

     Mary and the principality stared at the beaming Archangel for a few more seconds, then the latter took a deep breath and opened the door a crack. “You should stay inside, my dear,” he warned Mary, blocking her with his arm. “This is unprecedented, and there’s no telling what he might—”

     “I’m not sending you out there alone to—” Mary began, but stopped at the look Aziraphale gave her. “Alright, fine. But the second things start to look fishy, I’m running out with my pepper spray.” She knew it wouldn’t be of any use, but she had never used it before, and Gabriel’s purple eyes, so intently watching them, were just begging to be assaulted.

     Aziraphale smiled a bit despite himself. “Very well. Thank you, Miss. Stable.” He took another deep breath, then opened the door fully, closed it quickly before Mary could slip out and then locked it magically. Mary growled quietly and glared at the angels outside the window, one beloved and the other beloathed.

     “Hello, Gabriel,” Aziraphale greeted Gabriel gingerly, staying a good six feet away from his former boss. “What can I do for you?”

     “Hello, Aziraphale,” nodded Gabriel, glancing up to the window and smiling at Mary. “May I come in?”

     Mary narrowed her gaze suspiciously at the angel. “No the fuck you cannot!” she snapped loudly. Aziraphale sighed without turning around, then grinned at Gabriel apologetically. “I appreciate you asking, instead of—well.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m just—I’m not certain that’s the best idea, Gabriel…”

      “Please?” Mary and Aziraphale did a double take. Gabriel had never once spoken in such a polite, almost pleading manner. Indeed, his handsome face even looked hopeful, like a little puppy begging for a treat. “I just wanted to talk. Calmly,” he assured Mary, raising his hands so his palms faced her in a placating manner. “I promise. Just for a second.”

     Aziraphale bit his lip nervously. “Does this involve……are you going to—”

     “I have no intention of harming you,” Gabriel insisted seriously. “I promise.”

     “Yes, well, it’s not me I’m worried about, you see….” Aziraphale glanced back at Mary, who frowned with concern at his worried expression. Gabriel followed his gaze, looking at Mary with great bemusement until it seemed to dawn on him what his former employee meant. “Ohhhh! Oh no, of course not—why would I—why would you even think that?” He looked horrified, like Aziraphale had asked if he was going to harvest her organs.

     Mary would have rolled her eyes if the Archangel didn’t sound and look so pitifully sincere, like a pet that truly does not understand why their owners are leaving for vacation. Aziraphale blinked at him with raised eyebrows a few times, then looked back at Mary questioningly and shrugged. Mary bit her lip, then glared at Gabriel’s stupid face beaming at her hopefully. “Fine!” she groaned, then held up a threatening finger at the Archangel. “But I reserve the right to Mace you at any time.”

     Gabriel frowned in confusion, and opened his mouth to likely ask why corn was being used as a verb when Aziraphale opened the shop door and held it open for him. He hastened inside, then beamed brightly at Mary and thrust out his hand enthusiastically. “Miss Stable, an honor to—”

     “What do you want?” Mary interrupted him, hands on her hips and suspicion on her face. “Aziraphale is very busy, and doesn’t have time for Bureaucratic nonsense, you know.”

     Gabriel’s excited expression fell slightly, and he lowered his hand back to his side. “Ah, yes. Of course, um—” he cleared his throat, then perked up a bit “—well, good thing I am not here on business, then.”

     Aziraphale had shut the door, then stood slightly in front of Mary, watching Gabriel warily. “Really? To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure, then?”

     “Not the words I would have chosen,” muttered Mary, crossing her arms.

     Gabriel appeared not to have heard her, for he just closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened them again and said to Aziraphale, “I wanted to apologize.”

     The principality’s clock ticked loudly in the background. People chatted on the street, and somewhere nearby a car alarm went off. The three occupants of A.Z Fell’s Bookshop, however, made no discernable noises, and in fact did not move at all, for about one minute.

     Aziraphale finally broke the silence with a stammered, “I, um, I beg your pardon?”

     “Oh, right! Sorry, of course.” Gabriel reached behind his back and, from what Mary assumed was a pocket dimension, retrieved a stunning bouquet of flowers in his right hand and what appeared to be a container of sashimi sushi in his left. “I forgot the tokens of contrition. Please accept these as proof of my regret.” He held out the container to Aziraphale and the flowers to Mary, with a hopeful smile.

     Without taking her eyes from Gabriel, Mary leaned sideways to whisper to Aziraphale, “What the fuck is this.”

     “I have literally no idea,” replied Aziraphale, too shocked to correct her language. “This too is unprecedented. I don’t think any angel ever—”

     “I-is there something wrong with the tokens?” Gabriel asked anxiously. “I was under the impression—”

     “What are you doing,” Mary said, phrasing it like a statement. “Just—what in Whomever’s name are you doing.”

     Gabriel frowned. “I—I am apologizing,” he repeated carefully, as if she hadn’t heard him properly the first time. “Is this not how one—”

     “What are you apologizing for?” Mary asked, returning her hands to her hips. “You have to say, ‘I am sorry for….’ and then say what it is.”

     Gabriel blinked. “Oh….okay.”

     Aziraphale watched this exchange in profound shock. Gabriel, taking directions from a human? Whatever was next, Hell granting Crowley a reprieve?

     “Well,” Gabriel continued, “I am sorry to you, Aziraphale, for coming here last week and threatening you. That was not constructive, and punishing you won’t restart Armageddon anyway, so there was no point.” He held out the box of sushi.

     “Um….thank you, Gabriel,” Aziraphale said in a small voice, taking the box as though in a daze. The Archangel smiled with satisfaction, then looked down at Mary.

     “And I am very sorry to you, Miss Stable, for offending and frightening you.” Gabriel had placed his now-free left hand on his chest, and there was true regret in his lilac eyes. Not that he hadn’t meant his apology to Aziraphale (the principality would have sensed traces of dishonesty), but that had been matter-of-fact and practical; this was laced with a level of emotion he had never seen in any angel, let alone Gabriel, before. “Please accept these flora as a token of my sincere regret.” He held out the flowers hopefully.

     Mary made a face, some combination of disgust and suspicion and “WTF,” and glanced at Aziraphale. “Will they kill me?” she asked.

     Gabriel laughed charmingly. “Of course not! It’s just frangipani, gardenia, lilac, orchid, raspberry blossom and delphinium.” He pointed out which was which as he said their names, then grinned soppily. “I read that humans give each other flowers based on symbolic meanings, so….here.” He seemed a bit shy now as he held them out closer, and Mary was so off guard she took them.

     “These are plumerias,” she muttered, staring in shock at the delicate white and yellow frangipani. “How—how did you even—”

     “Being an Archangel has its benefits,” he explained, looking extremely proud of himself. “D-does that mean you accept?”

     Mary tore her eyes away from the delicate white and yellow tropical blooms to look at Gabriel hopeful face with confusion. “Accept what?”

     “My apology.” His pride had all but vanished, and was replaced by what couldn’t possibly be doubt and worry, but that did a remarkable job at imitating those emotions. “D-did I do it right? Do you accept my contrition?”

     Mary bit her lip and wanted to spit back some sarcastic remark, but found she couldn’t. “Um, yeah, sure. Thanks” was all she could muster. This was beyond weird, and she wanted him to go so she could figure it out.

     Gabriel beamed and sighed with relief, staring at Mary like she’d hung the stars. Aziraphale noticed Mary’s discomfort, and influenced the phone to ring loudly, giving them an excuse to move on to other things. “Ah, telephone. Well, thank you so much, Gabriel. This was truly……..quite kind of you. Apologies accepted all around.” The Archangel could hardly tear his eyes away from Mary as the principality ushered him out the door.

     Mary sat down with her flowers and frowned at them suspiciously. “What the fuck was that all about?” she finally said, once Gabriel had departed outside the shop into thin air.

     Aziraphale sat down and stared at the bouquet as though it might explode. “I don’t know, my dear, but I know someone who might……”

~

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” Crowley asked Aziraphale and Mary as they entered his flat. He was doing something on his phone, presumably instigating fights on Twitter, until Mary thrust the bundle of flowers in his face. “Ngk—stop that! Those better not be for me—”

     “What do these mean?” the human asked bluntly as he pushed aside the flowers. Aziraphale sat down on a nearby chair and looked at him intently, as though waiting for the answer.

     Crowley scoffed and stared from one to the other, his mouth open and eyebrows furrowed. “What’s this, then? ‘Accost your Local Demon about Plants’ Day? Angel, what’s—”

     “We may have had another encounter with Gabriel today,” Aziraphale supplied, glancing at Mary, who continued to tower over Crowley’s twisted up form impatiently like a vulture until the demon jumped up anxiously, sputtered nonsense for a second then exclaimed, “What the fuck, angel?! You said you’d call if it happened again!”

     “I know, I know…” Aziraphale began, standing up and sitting Crowley back down. “But it wasn’t what you think. We just need you to—”

     “Well, it better NOT be what I think!” Crowley said loudly and angrily, jumping back up to check Aziraphale and Mary for signs of harm. “Cuz what I think is that he’s a miserable fucker who—who—” Crowley stopped fussing and turned slowly to look at the flowers. “Don’t tell me…” he scoffed, shaking his head at her.

     Mary thrust the flowers aggressively at him once more. “Tell us what they mean. Please. Now.”

     Crowley blinked, then gingerly took the plants, looking a bit afraid of the girl as he did so. “Um, give me a moment.” The demon surveyed the flowers carefully, becoming more horrified with each second. “Uh, angel? Can I talk to you in the other—”

     “It’s an ‘I’m gonna smite you’ bouquet, isn’t it,” Mary interrupted, matter-of-factly.

     Crowley shook his head. “’Smite’ isn’t the word that comes to mind…..”

     “What then? Destroy? Send you to Hell? Make life awful for you because you called me a jackass? Some sort of variation thereof?”

     Crowley looked sick. “Um, no….”

     “What then?!”

     The demon gulped. “I really think Aziraphale and I should—” he began meekly.

     “OH JUST BLOODY TELL ME YOU COWARD!” Mary yelled.

     Crowley took a deep breath. “Okay, well…..Raspberry Blossoms signify Regret and Remorse,” he began uneasily, “so that checks out, and Frangipani symbolize Protection and Shelter, so that’s not too bad, but….”

     Mary stared at him. “What?!”

     Crowley groaned. “Fine! Delphiniums mean Boldness or Open Heart,” he continued, screwing his eyes shut and saying it quickly, “Gardenias are Secret Admiration and Love, Lilacs are First Love, and Orchids are Long-Lasting Impressions or Beautiful Lady! Okay? That’s what they mean!”

     Mary stared blankly at the harried demon for a moment, then politely excused herself, ran to the loo and promptly vomited.

     “Glad I didn’t say Delphiniums could also signify Ardent Attachment,” Crowley muttered over the sound of Mary puking her guts out.

     Aziraphale nodded and patted his hand. “Yes, that made all the difference, dear.”

Chapter Text

Mary, in all honesty, did not know what to make of the situation with Gabriel. She didn’t know much about him, true, or really anything that Aziraphale and Crowley (mostly the former) hadn’t told her, but none of it was endearing. Most of it was pretty bad, like him criticizing Aziraphale’s beautiful round stomach, and never taking him seriously, and oh yeah, FORCING HIM TO WALK INTO A TOWERING INFERNO OF HELLFIRE AS PUNISHMENT FOR RUINING HIS SOCIAL CALENDAR FOR THE NEXT ETERNITY. That last one was definitely the worst. Some things, like him loudly declaring he was purchasing pornography in Aziraphale’s bookshop or freaking out because a piece of tape got stuck to his hand, were humorous and pitiable, but not nearly enough to change Mary’s perception of him from the angelic equivalent of a cishet Caucasian male CEO to….well, anything else, really.

It was therefore understandable that she was hoping beyond hope he had no idea what those flowers signified. Though he did say he got the idea from humans gifting each other symbolic flowers, she kept remembering uneasily. Oh, maybe Sandalphon gave him bogus information, like with the porn! No, why would he consult any other angel’s advice in giving a stupid human flowers…..actually, why would he give me the flowers at all, let alone apologize to the angel he tried to destroy?! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!

It was a very stressful time for Mary right now.

That’s partly why she had taken refuge at St. James park, near the duck pond, where the secret agents (human and otherwise) met to exchange information and feed the waterfowl. Mary had brought some old dried sourdough, which the black swans seemed to favor, and was just breaking off a piece to throw in the general vicinity of one when a tall, brown haired man in sweats jogged past her on the bench. She paid him no mind, barely noticed him except there weren’t many other people around, and got up to pay tribute to the birds when she glimpsed the man; he had stopped jogging and turned around in her direction. Feeling a bit uneasy, Mary yeeted the bread piece and then reached into her right pocket to grip her Mace tightly.

“Hey, didn’t see ya there! How are you?” The woman frowned and turned toward the man; his voice sounded faintly familiar, but she couldn’t quite place—ah. Of course. Why on Earth would she have expected anything different.

“Oh, hey,” she said sullenly to the beaming Archangel walking up to her by the pond railing. “Long time no see….”

“Long time?” Gabriel frowned down at the human and cocked his head slightly to the right. “It’s only been three weeks!”

“That’s longer for mortals,” she explained dully, turning back to the ducks and tearing off another piece of bread a bit rougher than was strictly necessary. “What’s up?”

“Up? Oh, nothing, just—I come here sometimes, to clear my head.” Gabriel folded his arms and leaned against the rail, face turned left to look at her. “I find jogging really helpful when things get……a bit much.”

Mary hummed noncommittally and refused to look at him, just quickly tore off chucks of bread and hurled them at the ducks until there was nothing left. Brushing the crumbs off her hands, she turned to go home. “Well, I’d better be getting back.”

“Oh, already?” Mary stopped walking and turned around, frowning. Gabriel sounded and looked almost exactly like a disappointed puppy that couldn’t accompany its owner to the grocery store. “I, um, I was hoping we could chat for a bit.” He gestured at the bench Mary had occupied.

Mary just stared blankly at him, then sighed. “Look, if you’re gonna smite me, just get it over with, okay? I don’t particularly care, I just don’t like mind games, and after the flowers—”

“Oh right, I meant to ask how you were liking them!” Gabriel exclaimed, apparently only hearing one of the words she had just uttered. “I miracled them so they’d stay alive for a few months, not forever but longer than I’m told normal flowers—”

“What the fuck do you want,” Mary interrupted firmly, fixing him with a death glare. “First the flowers, then you showing up here—since when do you jog in St. James? Aziraphale says you prefer warmer climates.”

“I do, but—”

“Again, if you are going to smite me, please oh please Archangel fucking Gabriel just fucking get on with it!” she finished, enunciating each syllable carefully.

Gabriel did seem to hear her this time, and frowned in shock. “Why would I smite you?” he asked, seeming genuinely horrified at the idea. “What are you—”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe because I insult you every time we meet!”

Gabriel’s expression softened and he chuckled. “Oh, you were just defending your friend. That’s admirable! Besides, I would never smite you. You’re--”

“Then what the fuck are you doing here?!” Mary cried, eyes wide and blood pumping with fury from his patronizing little laugh. “You apologized, Aziraphale accepted, what else—”

“Oh! Oh, I see the confusion,” Gabriel suddenly said, nodding in understanding. “Yes, because I normally work Upstairs.”

“And hated Earth enough to want it destroyed!”

Gabriel inhaled slowly and closed his eyes. It was the first time he looked annoyed at anything she’d said or done, and she respected him ever so slightly for it. He let out the air slowly, then opened his eyes and replied calmly, “I didn’t want it destroyed, I wanted to follow the Divine Plan--”

Mary couldn’t resist. “Oh, would that be the same as the Ineffable Plan, would it?!”

She and Gabriel stared at each other, her with righteous fury and him with frustration and awe. “No one has ever spoken to me like this,” he confessed, not angrily but curiously, almost as though he were talking to himself.

Mary sniffed. “Well, maybe they should,” she replied haughtily.

Gabriel’s raised his eyebrows, and Mary was certain he’d reached the end of his rope, when he smiled. It was a strange smile, not like the beaming used care salesman ones he continuously offered, or a false sarcastic one, but what appeared to be a spontaneous, soft, amused grin! He cocked his head again, opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again and said, “Well, maybe you’re right, Miss Stable.”

The way he was looking at her made Mary blush and look away. She didn’t know what was going on, but she didn’t like it. “I, um, I really have to go,” she muttered, zipping up her jacket and not looking at him. “So—”

“Will I see you here again?” Gabriel asked, all puppy eyes and hopeful tone again. Mary glanced up at him and couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him. “Or at the bookshop, perhaps?”

“Why are you down here?” she asked again, but softer this time. “Why aren’t you Upstairs, picking up the pieces from the failed Armageddon?”

Gabriel smiled and straightened up. “Well, in a manner of speaking, I am,” he confessed with a bit more confidence than a second ago. “Aziraphale was our primary Earth agent, and now that he’s no longer with us—”

Now that you tried to KILL him, Mary thought viciously, wanting to say that aloud but wanting even less to prolong this conversation.

“—we need a replacement, someone else to keep an eye on things.” Gabriel stopped speaking and just grinned cheerfully, as if that explained everything.

Mary blinked. “And……you’re down here because……..?”

Gabriel’s smile vanished, and he gestured at himself. “I-it’s me! I’m the new primary Earth agent!”

Mary closed her eyes and frowned. She could feel a headache emerging. “No you’re not.”

Gabriel blinked. “Um, I am, actually.”

“That’s—you’re an Archangel!” She opened her eyes and lowered her voice, as there were a few parkgoers nearby.  God’s Messenger! What’re you doing down here slumming with humans?”

 Gabriel frowned, puzzled. “Um, I don’t know what ‘slumming’ is, but as God’s Messenger I am certainly no stranger to humans.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Just because you told a virgin she was gonna have a baby, that doesn’t make you an expert on humanity.”

“I agree!” Gabriel said vehemently, nodding. “Which is why I wanted to speak with you today.”

The woman raised her eyebrows. “Ah, we’re finally getting to it then, are we? Well, out with it: whaddaya want?”

Gabriel beamed. “I was hoping you could teach me.”

Mary blinked. “What?”

“I was hoping you c—”

“No I heard you, I meant—teach you what?”

“About humanity.”

“Humanity,” Mary repeated, staring blankly at the Archangel. “You want me to—”

“Who better than a member of the actual species?” Gabriel seemed delighted, almost giddy. “You’re a very bright, charming young female, and I thought—”

“Oh this is wrong on so, so many levels,” Mary muttered to herself, shaking her head and trying not to laugh. “Oh, this—yeah, that’s not gonna work,” she said to Gabriel, losing the battle and chuckling a bit. “You—yeah, we’re done. But—I mean, yeah. Good luck monitoring Earth.” She turned and ran home before he could say anything, and didn’t stop until she was at her and Crowley’s flat building, where she burst into stress-induced cackles that echoed in the corridors.

Chapter Text

No, of course I don’t want to be his ‘little human helper!’” Mary snapped at Crowley over the phone. “I’d rather boil my eyes in vinegar! I’m just saying—hey, it’s not MY fault he’s down here! Well, burn him alive then, if you’re so clever!” The woman hung up the phone, threw it on the couch and screamed furiously into a pillow. 

Chapter Text

It had been a month, and Mary had heard not one peep from Gabriel. She found it shocking, given his apparent disregard for boundaries and inability to understand her hatred of him, but pleasant, nonetheless. She went about her routine, working as a teaching assistant and writing in her spare time, hanging out with Aziraphale and Crowley frequently, and thought little of him until she went for a walk on October 23.

The air was delightfully crisp and Mary was just about to crunch a particularly large, brittle brown leaf with her sneaker when she heard someone mention a “pedo lurking in the park.” Frowning, she turned to see if she needed to summon Crowley for some good old fashioned infernal justice when she saw something that made her groan in irritation instead.

The Archangel Gabriel, in all his holy Corporate America glory, was sitting on a park bench with a pencil and notepad, watching intently the children gambol on the play structures and run around like maniacs, occasionally writing something down or, less occasionally than frequently, frowning in consternation. A gaggle of adults were watching him uneasily, probably wondering whether to call the police. Mary considered letting the situation unfold naturally, then thought better of it and, with a weary sigh, walked up to him.

Gabriel sensed Mary before he saw her, and when she was but two feet away turned left in surprise and unbridled joy. “H-hi! Um—”

“What are you doing,” Mary asked, deadpan, hands on her hips, resting bitch face in full swing.

Gabriel blinked and frowned. “Oh! I am observing the human infants in their recreational activities. Aziraphale never did much research on this, so I’m filling in the gaps.”

Mary sighed. It was so hard not to feel sorry for him. “Gabriel, do you know what a sexual predator is?”

“I……yes, I am familiar with the term.”

“Good. You look like a predator targeting children for sexual or other nefarious purposes right now.”

Gabriel’s frown deepened and his mouth dropped. “I—why in God’s name would you—”

“Gabriel.” Mary sat down on the bench, smiled at and waved reassuringly to the concerned adults eyeing him suspiciously, then sighed. “You are a presenting as a middle-aged Caucasian male, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you are currently presenting thusly in a park, observing children, to whom you have no relation, play, while—” she glanced at his notebook “—taking creepily extensive notes.”

“Y-yes…..”

“That is why I in God, Satan and anyone else’s name am, out of whatever goodness my heart possesses, informing you that those people over there are going to call the police and inform them that a middle-aged Caucasian—”

“But I’m an ANGEL!” he insisted vehemently.

Mary glanced at the now smaller and less anxious-looking but still quite wary group of adults milling about and watching him out of the corner of their eyes. “They don’t appear to have realized that.”

Gabriel looked as well. “Would it—”

“No it would not help if you erupted in a terrifying flurry of wings, spinning rings and eyes and commanded them to be not afraid.”

“Oh……….” Gabriel looked at a complete loss for what to do next, even more so than usual, so Mary once again took pity on him.

“Come on.” She stood up and motioned for him to follow her. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, with y-you?” he clarified, raising his eyebrows.

“Either me or the police, your choice.”

Gabriel glanced from his notes to the children screaming and frolicking innocently on the playground structures to the adults glaring at him, got up, smoothed out his handsome grey suit and followed Mary away from the park and to a coffee shop, where she ordered a lemonade and sat down with him at a small table, drinking the sweet tartness from a straw. The archangel watched her carefully, marveling at how she seemed to derive pleasure from the yellow drink.

“Stop staring at me,” Mary grumbled, looking away awkwardly. He complied and stared out of the window instead at the various passersby. Mary sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want anything? They have water, that’s pretty bland.”

“No thank you,” Gabriel replied politely without looking at her. Mary was momentarily annoyed that he was pointedly not looking at her now, but noticed how uncomfortable he looked, and realized she was assuming his intentions were rude based on her own bias. She had asked him to stop looking at her, and he was respecting that request. Perhaps he wasn’t aware of the nuances of the statement, but that’s not something to fault him for.

Feeling guilty, she sighed and pushed aside her drink. “You don’t have to purposely look away from me. I just meant, don’t stare for a prolonged period at me. Moderate eye contact is okay.” When Gabriel’s eyes met hers again, she continued. “Look……I’m sorry I pepper-sprayed you, and I’m sorry I’m mean to you. I’ve known Aziraphale and Crowley for a long time, all my life—well, not long to YOU, that’s only about 27 years, but still—and I trust them. They’ve cared for me, raised me practically. And you have been very unkind to them, particularly Aziraphale.”

Gabriel frowned, still not looking at her. “Why—what have I done to—”

“You tried to murder him, for one,” Mary interrupted, temper flaring a bit. “And never respected him or his important assignment on Earth.”

“Well now THAT’s not—”

“Please don’t interrupt. I’ll say my bit, then you can respond, but please let me finish. Okay?” She tried to sound as calm as possible. Gabriel reluctantly nodded, then she continued. “Thank you. You—I’m willing to accept that you meant him no harm, but when you hurt someone, you’re responsible regardless of your intention. And you did apologize to him, sort of, which was great, just………I don’t think I will ever see you as anyone but the person, the very powerful, vain and frankly terrifying archangel, that threatened and tried to murder my dear friend. I know you think it was justice…..and I don’t want to argue about that. Just……..I will try to stop being unkind to you, because that isn’t fair either, but I will never see you as anything but………someone who grossly misuses and abuses his power.”

Gabriel looked at her, and she saw the shock and heartbreak in his violet eyes. They stared at each other, until he remembered he wasn’t to stare at her and murmured his apologies as he once again averted his gaze.

“I—I’m done. If you wanted to respond—”

Gabriel shook his head. “No thank you. I…….um……I should….go…..”

Mary felt her heart clench and didn’t know why. “Wait! Just……..I—I’m sorry………I…….I didn’t mean to hurt you—this time, anyway…..”

“No, it….it is I who am sorry. I……I don’t…….I did not know anyone….perceived me that way…….that….that I COULD be perceived that way……and…….” He paused, thinking, brow furrowed in a way that Mary found strangely adorable. “Ms. Stable……..if—if I were to change the things about myself you and others find offensive—”

“Sorry, lemme stop you right there. You should never change yourself so others will like you. That’s unhealthy and doesn’t work anyway.”

“But……but I don’t….I don’t WANT to be those things you said! Yes, I am powerful, but I…….well, I know I am vain,” he admitted, face red with shame. “I have always been quite vain……and humans have always seemed to find me terrifying………I—I suppose I am what you say…….”

Mary sighed deeply and closed her eyes. She really shouldn’t do this……..”What do you want to know about humans?”

Gabriel frowned in confusion. “Wh—I don’t follow.”

“You asked me to help you……learn about humans or whatever. Right?”

“Um…….yes, but—”

“So what do you want to know,” Mary interrupted with slight annoyance and resignation. “What do you want to know about humans. For starters, the kids weren’t ‘practicing political maneuvers,’” she informed him, raising an eyebrow. “I saw your notes. They were playing.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows, then quickly removed his notebook and pen from his pristine briefcase, crossed something out and wrote something in its place. “Playing………right. Thank you. Er, what is the purpose of the….playing……”

Mary took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was such a terrible idea. “So, for most of the questions you’ll have, my answers won’t be thorough or even technically correct,” she prefaced. “I’ll just be telling you what I know, from my own experiences with the world. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Gabriel replied simply, pen poised to record her next words. “That is acceptable.”

Mary nodded. “Okay. So…..kids play for a lot of different reasons, but it all relates to social interactions and intellectual and emotional development.” As the human spoke, Gabriel copied her words diligently. “Children play differently at different ages. Most of those kids at the park seemed………between like, maybe five and ten years old? That’s a pretty big age difference.”

Gabriel frowned. “Why? That’s only five years. I mean, yes, relatively long in terms of the overall truncated human lifespan—” he conceded with a little chuckle that made Mary glower.

“Even for our ‘truncated human lifespans,’” she interrupted sharply, leaning back and folding her arms over her chest, “five years is, yes, not in itself considered a long time. For child development, the time lapse is especially stark; like, the difference between a baby and a five year old. Y-you’ve seen babies, right?” she asked uneasily, narrowing her eyes sympathetically.

Gabriel looked at her a moment and scoffed good-naturedly. “Uh, yeah, I’ve seen babies,” he answered, chuckling like it was ridiculous. “I was present for Jeshua’s birth! The Christ child!”

“Ohhhhhh, right. Sorry, forgot. Um…….so, yeah! Use Jeshua as a reference point. Do you remember how he was as a newborn?”

“Yes. He cried a great deal more than I had anticipated and could not do much else. He seemed rather……perturbed by life on Earth, for which I could not blame him. And he struggled to keep food down.”

“Great!” Mary smiled, feeling like they were finally making some progress. “That’s a pretty typical newborn. And what was he like as a five-year-old?”

Gabriel looked up thoughtfully. “He had a much more humanoid shape, less lumpy and misshapen, much thinner and taller. More hair as well. He could speak by that point, but I couldn’t understand him; his voice was very high-pitched and…..the words would get jumbled……Mary was much better at deciphering his gibberish.”

“Oh, right…….Mary……” the similarly named human looked away wistfully. “What was she like?”

Gabriel smiled warmly, his eyes melting a bit. “She was wonderful. She was extremely intelligent, strong, nurturing, resilient……she was an excellent mother. The Almighty, as always, made the right choice.”

“Mm,” Mary hummed, biting her tongue. “Right……well, anyway, that was five years’ difference in child development. Five to ten is less extreme, as you can tell from the children on the playground, but you can see how zero to five is much different than, say, 30 to 35.”

Gabriel nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah……….yes, I do see.” He beamed. “Thank you.”

Mary smiled a bit, suddenly feeling shy. “You’re welcome……” The human took a sip of lemonade and cleared her throat. “So! What else.”

“Everything,” Gabriel said solemnly, as if asking one to describe in great detail humanity and life on Earth was in any way a reasonable request.

“Right……..um…….let’s start with, erm—”

“What, or perhaps where, is ‘second base?’” the Archangel asked, pen poised over a blank page. “I have been hearing that term frequently. Also ‘first base,’ which I assume is near the aforementioned second.”

Mary took a deep breath and thought about drowning herself in her lemonade. “Um…….so, apropos of nothing, let’s actually start with topics I won’t cover under any circumstances.”

“Um…….okay?”

“Yes. These include but are not limited to sexual reproduction in any form, dating—”

“Dating?”

“Yes, er—courtship rituals. The intent to pursue a romantic and/or sexual relationship—well, unless you’re aroace, in which case there’s no romance OR sex. But I’d rather not discuss any of that.”

“Ah…..” Gabriel looked a bit awkward, almost nervous. “That was……that was one of the areas in which I required your assistance……Aziraphale never seemed to research human mating practices—”

“Mm,” Mary nodded casually, biting her tongue once more as her mind recounted stories of gentlemen’s clubs and risqué lingerie.  “Right………um…….well, you’ll have to research…..all that…..without me. Maybe look it up—oh no, don’t do that. Gabriel, do NOT look up “human mating practices” online, do you hear me? Do NOT do it.”

Gabriel frowned. “Why? Is it false information?”

“……..yes. False. Slanderous, very false, just…….all lies. Um……….look, for now just try and learn about basic human shit. Our motivations, goals, behaviors, etc. Are you living down here now?”

“I am,” Gabriel announced proudly, beaming. “I acquired a small dwelling here in London. A…..flat, I believe it’s called?”

“Yeah, a flat. Well, I have work during the day, but I guess we can meet on the weekends?”

“Weekends…….” Gabriel repeated slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Those are…..”

“Saturdays and Sundays.”

“Right! Yes. Very good. Saturdays and Sundays. Should I go to your flat?”

“No,” said Mary firmly. “We won’t go to each other’s flats. We’ll meet in public places, like St. James’ Park, or coffee shops. Got it?”

Gabriel nodded, face very serious. “Yes, got it.”

“Good…..thank you. I…..need to go. I’ll meet you by the ducks in St. James in two days at…….10 in the morning?”

Gabriel beamed, and Mary could have sworn she glimpsed a radiant halo. “Sounds perfect. Thank you for doing this.”

Mary blinked and looked away, blushing. He really was very beautiful…….. “Sure. Um…….bye.” The human woman hurried out of the café back home, determined to drown her confusing feelings in the Saw franchise and peanut butter.