Chapter Text
Aziraphale had been rummaging through his drawers and beyond for hours now, to no avail. The entire shop was a mess — even more than usual — from his fruitless efforts to locate the missing item. And all for nothing.
One of his favorite socks was currently on the angel’s right foot. His left foot was bare, and all Aziraphale’s searching had turned up no sign of the other half of the pair.
Finally, he set his jaw and stood, left foot still bare against the carpet. Clearly, the sock was nowhere to be found in the bookshop.
It was time to consider another possibility.
~ ~ ~
Crowley answered the phone on the second ring.
“Hello. This is Aziraphale,” the angel stated, voice grim and foreboding.
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Well, that’s an excellent question.” Aziraphale paused. “You remember you told me about how you’re the demon of lost socks?”
“Yeah!” Crowley perked up. “You need someone’s sock stolen? I’m your guy.“
“No! No, thank you, I most certainly do not need to… to enlist your services.”
“You sure? I’m an expert. Won’t find anyone better for the job, believe me.”
“Quite sure.” Aziraphale didn’t beat around the bush. “Crowley. Did you take one of my socks?”
“One of your socks?” The demon sounded surprised.
“One of my socks,” Aziraphale confirmed.
“No,” said Crowley, and there was unfortunately no hint of deception in his voice. “Definitely wasn’t me…”
“Bother,” Aziraphale muttered.
“…though now you mention it, it’s a great idea. Should try it sometime.”
“ Bother,” Aziraphale repeated, louder this time. “I’ll smite you if you dare.”
“Sure you will.” Crowley chuckled. Then the chuckling stopped abruptly. “Wait a moment. Are you saying there’s someone else infringing on my sock-stealing patent?”
“So it seems. Socks don’t steal themselves.”
“Eh. You’d be surprised.”
Aziraphale sighed and bent to strip off the sock on his right foot. So much for wearing this pair today. He might never get to wear it again.
The sock came off after a brief struggle — it felt tighter than usual — and then the angel froze, staring at his own foot.
Beneath the sock he’d just removed, concealed from sight until now, was another sock. The perfect match to the first.
He moaned, half in relief and half in intense chagrin.
“Angel?” said a puzzled voice from the phone. “You okay over there?”
Aziraphale sighed again. “Perhaps I should stop reading while getting dressed.”