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Katia liked books, she liked snakes even more, and she lived in London. It was, therefore, all but inevitable that she should eventually hear about the old bookshop in Soho that belonged to the eponymous A. Z. Fell.
There were rumors, about that bookshop and about its owner. Some said he was a demon; an angel; a witch; an associate of the mafia. People said other things, too, some of them complimentary and many of them significantly less so. And all of that was without even getting started on what people said about A. Z. Fell’s sunglasses-wearing friend, whom the rumors variably had as his husband, co-owner, mobster contact, or possibly all of the above.
Being disinclined towards gossip, Katia paid the rumors little mind. She’d been to enough used bookshops to know that, in that particular sector, a businessman who went to great lengths to avoid doing business was nothing very much out of the ordinary. Besides, Londoners said all sorts of things about those who lived or worked in Soho. As a general rule, Katia ignored them, and rarely had cause to regret doing so.
She’d stopped by the bookshop once, while she was in the neighborhood anyway, and briefly considered going in to see what it was like and meet the infamous A. Z. Fell for herself. But the shop was closed, and the “opening hours” sign posted on the door gave her the double benefit of a good laugh and the information that it would be far too much trouble to try to find a day and time to get in there. There were other places to get books. This one, she decided, wasn’t worth her effort.
When she walked past A. Z. Fell’s again a few months later and caught a glimpse through the window of the large and gorgeous rainbow boa inside, she changed her mind.
~ ~ ~
For a wonder, the door was unlocked; she’d apparently gotten lucky with her timing. The blond-haired man standing behind the cash register ignored Katia as she walked in, the doorbell jingling overhead the only sign of welcome in the dusty interior. He presented an impartial frown for a minute or so, then — when she didn’t immediately turn and flee — looked pointedly away.
Fortunately, Katia had too much experience in used bookshops to be put off so easily. The snake coiled around the man’s arm (strategically in view of the window, and she would have been more worried about the irresponsibility of handling a snake while working if it wasn’t so obviously deliberate) would probably have been another deterrent for many prospective customers… but not for Katia.
Since she was inside anyway, she took a few minutes to stroll among the bookshelves, scanning the spines for familiar authors or intriguing titles. It was quite the selection of books, disorganized to an art form, and of course there were no price tags on anything. Katia was unfazed; this was more or less par for the course with used bookshops, judging from her experience. Though admittedly, it wasn’t every day you saw a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray right next to Biggles Goes To Mars.
The snake behind the counter raised its head and hissed loudly, conveniently reminding Katia why she’d come in in the first place.
Turning her attention from the books, Katia walked calmly up to the counter. She stopped at a safe distance — rainbow boas weren’t venomous, but that didn’t mean she was about to encroach on a strange snake’s personal space, nor a strange human’s either — and waited for her presence to be acknowledged. After a moment, with an attitude of extreme reluctance, the man looked at her again.
“Hi,” Katia said cheerfully. “Would you be Mr. Fell?”
“I would be,” he confirmed stiffly, and very noticeably did not ask if he could help her with anything.
“I’m afraid I don’t have the cash on me to purchase something today,” she apologized, noting the distinct lack of any credit card machine beside what looked like a vintage analog cash register.
Mr. Fell seemed to brighten a little at that news. “That’s quite all right.”
Deciding to get to the point that had actually brought her into the shop, Katia nodded at the counter. “I just wanted to say, that’s a beautiful snake you have there.”
The effect was instantaneous, and quite impressive. A. Z. Fell lit up like a beacon — for an instant Katia could have sworn he was actually glowing, though obviously that couldn’t be literally true — his entire bearing shifting from frostily off-putting to positively beaming with delight.
“This dear serpent here?” He turned his beaming gaze to the reptile on his arm and ran his free hand gently over the snake’s head. “Oh, yes, I daresay he is rather beautiful. I’ve always thought so myself.”
The enthusiasm was endearing, and despite her instinctive wince at seeing someone petting a creature that, knowing snakes, presumably didn’t especially want to be pet, Katia smiled back. It was always nice to connect with a fellow snake person.[1] “He really is,” she reiterated warmly. “A Brazilian rainbow boa, right?”
It was an observation and a small talk offering rather than an actual question. Katia loved all snakes, with a special fondness obviously reserved for her own ball python at home… but if she had to choose a favorite species overall, it was an easy call. She hoped to get a rainbow boa of her own someday. She’d recognize one anywhere, with their distinctive pattern and sheen.
“Er,” said Mr. Fell. “Pardon? I didn’t quite catch that.”
“...Your snake is a Brazilian rainbow boa?” Katia repeated.
“Ah.” Fell blinked at her, still looking baffled, then glanced down at the boa as if for help. Did the man not know his own pet’s species?
The snake flicked his tongue.
“Why, yes, I suppose he must be,” Fell said. “A Brazilian rainbow boa. Yes. Quite.”
“...Isn’t he?” Katia double-checked, since Fell still sounded doubtful. “He looks like one, anyway.”
“Well.” Fell chuckled a little. “Why in the world would he look like one if he wasn’t?”
There wasn’t exactly an answer that could be given to that question — there were no other rainbow boa lookalikes Katia knew of, and she could tell the difference between the Colombian and Brazilian varieties — so she shrugged and chuckled in acknowledgement. “Fair point.”
They chatted a bit more, Katia taking advantage of the opportunity to continue admiring the snake’s lovely form and iridescent scales, until she caught a glimpse of the clock and realized her impromptu detour had taken significantly longer than she’d intended.
She took her leave, making a mental note to outmaneuver A. Z. Fell’s hours and come back another time. She wasn’t about to pass up the chance to visit with a rainbow boa, after all. Especially a rainbow boa as magnificent as this one.
~ ~ ~
“You never told me you were Brazilian,” Aziraphale said, when the customer was gone. “And a… what did the young lady call it… a rainbow scarf?”
“Boa,” Crowley corrected, serpentine eyes rolling fondly. “And I’m not either.”
“She seemed quite convinced that you were.”
“No more than I’m any other kind of snake, anyway,” Crowley clarified. “It’s the whole temptation thing, probably. People see what they want to see.”
“I didn’t think that happened when you’re in this shape.”
“It doesn’t, usually. Most people are scared of snakes, so they see something venomous. From, I don’t know, Australia or somewhere.”[2] Crowley rippled a shrug. “But I guess this person really likes Brazilian rainbow boas.”
“It certainly seemed like it,” Aziraphale agreed. He thought about that. “I suppose, if people see you as whatever snake they like best, then that explains how I see you.”
“Oh? What do I look like to you?”
“You look like… Crowley,” Aziraphale said, and smiled smugly. “Because you’re the snake I like best.”
There was no possible response to that blatant mushiness other than ngk , so Crowley just gave the obligatory unconvincing groan of protest[3] and slithered up to twine around his angel’s neck.[4] If Aziraphale was going to call him a scarf, after all, it was well within his rights to live up to the name.
~ ~ ~
The next time Katia managed to come by the bookshop during the elusive opening hours, the snake was nowhere to be seen. She scanned the room to make sure, then nodded to the shop owner, trying not to look too disappointed. “Hi, Mr. Fell.”
“Hello,” said Fell equitably. He looked marginally more approachable than he had the last time; perhaps he, too, had enjoyed meeting someone else with an appreciation for snakes. “I assume you won’t be able to purchase anything today?”
Katia opened her mouth to say that actually she’d come with wallet prepared this time, so she’d be very happy to support the business and—
Then, catching a certain look in the book-dealer’s eye, she took the hint. She shrugged apologetically, turning empty palms upwards. “I hope you don’t mind.”
Fell visibly relaxed. “No,” he assured her, with remarkable alacrity, “I don’t mind at all. Not in the slightest.”
“The slightest what?” said an unfamiliar voice, and Katia spun to see a red-haired man in sunglasses approaching. He stopped when he saw her, staring shamelessly for a moment. Then he carried on, sashaying with an easy familiarity between the shelves until he reached Mr. Fell and slung an arm casually over the book dealer’s shoulders.
Oh. The famous (or, perhaps more accurately, infamous) friend/husband/mobster.
“Hello, Crowley,” said Fell, smiling warmly at the other man. “I was just telling this young lady here that it’s perfectly all right that she doesn’t plan to buy any books.”
“Sounds like a smart woman.” The redhead — Crowley — looked briefly at Katia again, then back to Fell. “Why’d she come to a bookshop, then?’
“Well, she’s just here because… she’s here to…” There was a pause. “Pardon me, dear girl, why exactly are you here?”
Resisting the impulse to laugh at the pair of them, Katia opted for the true and straightforward answer. There was no reason to hide her purpose, after all. “To be honest, I was hoping I might be able to see your snake again. That gorgeous rainbow boa. But it looks like he’s not out right now, so…”
She trailed off, seeing the pair of them exchanging glances.
“Angel,” said Crowley, an inexplicable drawling note in his voice. “This girl wants to see your gorgeous rainbow boa.”
“So it appears.” Fell raised an eyebrow. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Sure, why not? Terrific idea.” Crowley cackled, for no reason Katia could identify. “Guess I better not stick around, then. See you later. Bye, angel. Have fun showing off your snake.”
He dropped a quick kiss onto the book dealer’s cheek, then pivoted and headed towards an interior door in the back of the shop. He disappeared through it, door closing behind him.
Baffled, Katia turned to Fell. “What…”
“Don’t mind him!” the book dealer interrupted, stammering. “Crowley just, er. Well. He doesn’t… that is, him and snakes…”
“Oh,” said Katia, immediately understanding. It must be hard, having a partner who didn’t like — maybe even was afraid of? — your pet. Still, as long as they’d worked it out between them, it was none of her business. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you to any inconvenience.”
“No, no, not at all,” Fell said quickly. “If he doesn’t mind, I certainly don’t. No inconvenience at all. I’ll just go and bring him out, then, shall I? If you don’t mind waiting here a tick…”
And he was gone, through the same door Crowley had stepped through a few moments earlier.
~ ~ ~
The rainbow boa was just as stunning as she remembered, if not more so. “Does he have a name?” Katia asked, after Fell had returned with snake in hand and she’d spent a few minutes once again marveling at the creature.
“Of course.” The answer sounded absentminded. Fell seemed to be enjoying watching her watch the snake. “His name is Crowley.”
“...Crowley?” she repeated. “Wait. Isn’t that your” — she hesitated, not wanting to make assumptions about their relationship, though she had to admit to herself she was desperately curious — “your partner’s name?”
“...Yes. Yes, you’re correct. That is his name. They, ah, have the same name.”
Katia laughed. “That sounds confusing!”
“I suppose we ought to have thought ahead.” Fell glanced down at Crowley-the-snake, as if for help, and ran a hand along the scales. The snake hissed, which Katia would have taken as a cue to back off, but Fell didn’t seem to pick up on the hint. “But it’s a good name. It suits him.”
She smiled and nodded. There wasn’t much that could be said to that, and in any case she wasn’t about to get in an argument with the person who was her opportunity to spend time with what was quite possibly the most beautiful snake she’d ever seen.
~ ~ ~
“Do you mind if I come back to visit again?” she couldn’t resist asking as she took her leave a bit later.
Crowley chose that moment to move higher up his owner’s arm. Fell adjusted to the weight of the coils, seemed to momentarily lock eyes with the snake, then looked back at Katia and shrugged — though she thought his expression seemed vaguely surprised at something. “Sure. You’re welcome to do so. I think he likes you.”
She grinned, and waited to punch the air until she was home.
It was only later that evening, once the initial euphoria had worn off and she was checking the temperature in her ball python’s enclosure, that it occurred to her that a cool, dry bookshop was not a good environment for a rainbow boa.
~ ~ ~
“Well,” Aziraphale commented, when they were alone again, “I do believe you have a new admirer, dear boy. She seems entirely smitten.”
“Thought you’re the one who’s supposed to be doing the smiting.” Crowley shifted back into his other form in order to take Aziraphale’s hand. “Jealous, angel?”
“Jealous because someone else appreciates you?” Aziraphale snorted. “Not so long as she doesn’t try to buy any books next time.”
“Hah. Think there’ll be a next time?”
“She certainly seemed to want there to be. You’re the one who told me to say yes. Are you having second thoughts?”
“Nah. It was fun. And funny.” Crowley tipped his head. “You could’ve just made up a name for me, you know.”
“I most certainly could not have,” Aziraphale said firmly.
“Why not?”
“Your name is your business. It is not up to me to decide what others should call you.”
“Oh.” Smile softening, Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand. “Yeah, well. Fair enough.” There was a momentary silence. Then he cleared his throat and pointed out, “Could've called me Anthony, though. You know I’m fine with that name.”
“Ah, but, you see…” Aziraphale trailed off, trying and failing to find a flaw in that suggestion.
Crowley laughed. “Didn’t think of it, huh?”
The angel felt his face warming. “...What do you think we should do for dinner?”
~ ~ ~
As soon as she had another afternoon free, Katia took A. Z. Fell up on the permission to pay the shop another visit. And again, a week or so later. And again, not long after that.
(By coincidence, after being invited back, she seemed to start having better luck at finding the shop open. It was by no means a 100% success rate, but even 50% would have been a notable improvement.)
The snake wasn’t always in the front room when she came by — sometimes it was just Mr. Fell, or him and his Crowley-the-human — but often enough Fell was willing to head into the back room and return with Crowley-the-boa for Katia to admire.[5] It was clear to see that Fell genuinely loved his snake, which made Katia considerably more kindly disposed to him on the personal level than she might otherwise have been.[6]
But unfortunately, the ways that he interacted with and cared for said snake — even aside from his ongoing and perpetually atrocious handling methods — consistently left her far more appalled than at ease. Love was all very well, but Katia was becoming increasingly unsure whether the man knew anything about proper snake husbandry.
Hinting at her interest in entering the mysterious back room from which Fell always retrieved Crowley-the-snake came to nothing. So she started, casually enough, by asking what type of enclosure Fell housed Crowley in. The shop itself was clearly a terrible environment for a rainbow boa, but perhaps, she reasoned, the times she visited were the exception — if he usually kept the snake in a properly humidified space equipped with heat panels it wouldn’t be quite so bad.
The absolutely blank look on the bookseller’s face when she asked the question did not reassure her, and nor did his eventual, vague “The usual, of course. I’m sure a knowledgeable girl like you knows what I mean.”
Katia was plenty knowledgeable enough to know that that was no kind of answer at all. But she still didn’t really know Fell, and she couldn’t think of a polite way of pushing the question, so she let it go for the moment. Crowley seemed healthy enough, after all; no signs of dehydration, unusual lethargy, or other problems. The situation couldn't be too dire.
~ ~ ~
“‘The usssual?’” Still in his snake form, the sign on the bookshop door flipped back to CLOSED , Crowley was snickering.[7] “What was that even supposed to mean?”
“Whatever she wanted it to mean, I daresay. I think I did rather well, considering the question.” Aziraphale frowned. He seemed to be in a bit of a temper. “What type of enclosure do I keep you in. Enclosure! As if you were some kind of—some kind of—of pet!”
“Well,” Crowley pointed out reasonably, “that’s exactly what she thinks I am.”
“But you aren’t.”
“She doesn’t know that, though.”
Aziraphale sighed. “Well, I wish she wouldn’t ask so many questions. Whatever she thinks you are, our living arrangements are still nothing to do with her. And I am certainly not letting her into the back room.”
“Shocker. When was the last time you let any human in the same room as your signed Nostradamus?”
“Er.” A contemplative pause. “...1941?”
“Yeah, thought sso.” Amused, Crowley wound himself around Aziraphale’s waist. “She’s just curious, angel. Questions aren’t as bad as they’re cracked up to be. I should know.”
“Hmph. I like your questions better.” Aziraphale rubbed his scales affectionately, and Crowley felt the muscles in the waist relax.
“We don’t have to let her come back to ssee me again,” he said after a minute, “if you don’t want.”
Aziraphale sighed again, but the exhale sounded far less annoyed this time. “You still enjoy it, don’t you?”
“Not if it upsets you.”
Aziraphale shook his head; Crowley felt his body ripple with the negation. “It doesn’t, really. She seems a lovely girl. I just don’t like you being disrespected.”
“Oh, she respects me just fine.” He lifted his head, bared his fangs, and attempted an intimidating hiss for the sole purpose of making his angel laugh. “Has a healthy respect for sssssnakes, I’d say. Luckily for her.”
His purpose was achieved: Aziraphale laughed, and the conversation turned to other things.
~ ~ ~
It didn't take long for Katia to change her mind and come to the conclusion that, seeming good health notwithstanding, the situation was in fact significantly more dire than she’d feared.
She tried to keep her questions subtle and friendly, sprinkled into other small talk and the usual gushing over Crowley-the-snake. She wasn’t trying to interrogate the book dealer, just to make sure his snake was in safe hands. The trouble was that every question she asked seemed to elicit an even more worrisome answer than the last. All in all, the picture that was rapidly forming suggested that A. Z. Fell’s hands, however well-manicured and well-intentioned they might be, were anything but a safe place for a snake.
In response to a direct question about what temperature he kept Crowley’s space, Fell said confidingly, “It all depends what he’s in the mood for. He’ll never admit it, but sometimes he prefers being cold so we have a reason to cuddle. He does quite like cuddling.”
The rainbow boa chose that moment to start squirming wildly and hissing, distracting them both from the topic. If Katia had been a snake, she would probably have reacted the same way. She wasn’t sure whether she would be more perturbed if she knew Fell was for some reason making it up, or if she found out he was actually serious.
She desperately, desperately hoped he wasn’t serious when, still worried about humidity, she asked again about what he did to keep the snake from getting too dry and was told that Crowley very much enjoyed bubble baths. He couldn't be serious. Could he?
Later, when she inquired about his substrate of choice, Fell went into a lengthy speech that seemed to be about something to do with molecular biology.
The final straw came, though, when she asked about diet. “Well,” Fell answered blithely, “he doesn’t eat much, though he’s quite fond of stealing food from my plate at times. He usually prefers beverages. Sweet tea, coffee, wine…”
With an answer like that, Katia figured there was no point in even trying to figure out how often the poor creature was fed.
It was genuinely difficult to tell if the man was sincere in his utter obliviousness or if she was being elaborately trolled and falling for it. But at this point, Katia was amazed that the rainbow boa was even still alive… and increasingly concerned about his odds at remaining so for much longer. Should she contact the RSPCA? she wondered.[8] Should she call up her own snake’s vet and ask for advice?
There was a thought. “Do you,” she asked as soon as she had another chance (the snake wasn’t out today, but she’d struck up a conversation with Fell anyway), “have a vet y—”
The book dealer drew himself up. “I prefer not to discuss my military service. With all due respect, dear girl, that is none of your business. Now, I’m afraid I must go speak to a customer.”
For the first time, Katia registered the medal hanging around the neck of one of the busts in front of a bookshelf.
“I’m sorry, that’s not what I—” she began to say to Fell’s retreating back, and then gave up. This line of inquiry was clearly not going anywhere.
A new idea occurred to her, then. She’d gotten a nice bonus at work recently; she had money to spare.[9] She had room in her flat for another enclosure, and she’d been considering getting a second snake soon anyway.
Perhaps this was her chance.
It was a long shot, she knew. But would Mr. A. Z. Fell be interested in selling?[10]
~ ~ ~
By good fortune, she managed to catch Crowley-the-person while Fell was still busy with the aforementioned customer. She had spoken to him much less than to Fell,[11] but they were on friendly enough terms to exchange greetings every time they saw each other… and desperate times called for desperate measures.
She hoped his phobia of snakes wasn’t too severe to even discuss them. She hoped the fear would make him more likely to support her plan rather than more likely to oppose it. She also hoped he wasn’t actually a mobster that she was about to irritate.
Mostly, she hoped he might be willing to help her cause.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” she asked, beckoning him into a corner.
He lifted an eyebrow, looking surprised — as well he might be — but nodded quickly enough. “Go for it. Big question fan, me. I might even answer, if I like the question enough.”
He grinned at her, wide and sharp-toothed enough that somehow Katia found herself thinking of it as serpentine. Then she winced at herself; oh dear, she really was far too preoccupied with snakes.
She forged ahead. “I realize the topic might be a little… sensitive,” she warned.
“If you’ve finally got around to asking about our relationship,” Crowley-the-human said, “it’s not sensitive.[12] We’re friends and we’re married and we don’t like labels much anyway. Probably closest to what you’d call queerplatonic, if you had to pick a word. Partners. Whatever.”
That was so utterly unrelated to anything Katia had been about to ask that it took her a moment to process the fact that he had actually answered one of the things she had been wondering about since the first day she set foot in the shop. She would probably have been more interested in the explanation now if she hadn’t been so preoccupied with Crowley’s reptilian namesake.
As it was, she smiled and said, “That’s beautiful. I’m happy for you. It wasn’t actually what I was going to ask about, though.”
He cocked his head, and for a split second she fancied she could see a forked tongue flickering between his lips. She rubbed her eyes.
“Oh? Go ahead, then,” said Crowley. “Ask it.”
Katia took a deep breath. She should probably have planned out a speech; a good, eloquent, direct but non-confrontational way of explaining the problem and her proposed solution.
As it was, something about the listening stance Crowley had adopted made her blurt it out with no grace. “You know Mr. Fell’s snake? So, I’m planning to talk to him when he’s available, but since you’re his partner, I was wondering if you think he might be interested in selling—”
“Sssselling?” Katia noticed absently that there was some odd accent in the way he said the consonant.
She tried to interpret his face and tone. There was surprise visible, but mostly he just seemed amused. Then again, he’d seemed somehow amused every time she met him, so she assumed that was just the type of person Crowley was.[13] At least he didn’t look like she’d triggered a phobia, though there was also nothing in his reaction that encouraged her to feel optimistic about her odds of buying the snake.
“Angel!” Crowley shouted across the room, before she could stop him. “Snake Girl has a question for you!”
“Coming,” Fell called back, apparently engaged in disposing of the customer.
Katia held back a sigh. So much for testing the waters ahead of time by asking Crowley first.
The book dealer’s partner looked back at Katia as A.Z. Fell approached. “So why d’you want to buy the snake?”
Katia swallowed. This was already off to a poor beginning, but she would see it through. She tried to think of a tactful way to explain, especially with Fell coming up behind her. But instead, once again, she found the answer falling from her lips with brutal honesty. “The thing is, your husband… he obviously means well, but I’m worried he might not be… treating the snake well. Caring for it, that is. So, I thought—”
Something happened, then, and the atmosphere in the room shot straight from comfortable to terrifying in the space of a heartbeat.
There was a fierce hissing noise, and she thought she caught a blurry glimpse of fangs and scales even though the snake wasn’t even in the room, and Fell and Crowley were both talking loudly but she couldn’t make out the words, and something felt very wrong…
And then she was outside the bookshop, feeling dizzy and disoriented, facing a door sign that read — in unambiguous terms over the very ambiguous list of opening hours — CLOSED .
Katia sighed, and went home. She could feel a headache coming on.
~ ~ ~
“My dear boy,” said Aziraphale delicately, “don’t you think you might have overreacted, just a tad?”
“Nope.” Crowley glared, though now they were alone together he already seemed to be calming down from his outburst. “You ask me, you’re the one underreacting.”
“Really, now. I didn’t appreciate the suggestion either, but you know I would never sell you for any price.”
“I know that. I didn’t care about her asking to buy me. That part was funny, I just wonder how much she was willing to pay.” Crowley hissed again and slung a protective arm around Aziraphale. “But I’m not letting anyone get away with saying you don’t treat me well.”
“...Oh,” Aziraphale said, his understanding of the issue that had triggered Crowley’s temper abruptly shifting.
“You do, you know,” the demon said, sounding gruff but unquestionably sincere. “You take the best care of me.”
Aziraphale’s eyes were a bit damp. “And you, of me.”
“Mm. Well, someone needs to stop you from getting your head chopped off every other century.”
Aziraphale laughed at that, and turned to pull Crowley into a proper hug. They stood like that for a while, arms around each other and cheeks brushing.
“She was only trying to help,” the angel said at last. “She wanted you to be safe and well-taken care of. I really can’t fault her for that.”
“I am safe and well-taken care of. Way better than some whippersnapper of a human could ever do.”
“What high praise,” Aziraphale teased. “But you said yourself, she doesn’t know what we are. If you were an ordinary snake, she would probably be right. Goodness knows I had no idea what she was talking about much of the time.”
“Me neither.”
“But some of it did sound interesting. When she was asking about heat mats, for example… well, you do get chilly in the winter.”
“True,” Crowley admitted begrudgingly. “I wouldn’t have minded hearing more about the heat mats.”
“My point exactly.” Aziraphale straightened, arrested by a sudden thought. “Crowley, my dear, I have an idea.”
~ ~ ~
Katia awoke the next morning feeling much better. It wasn’t a work day, so she’d been able to sleep in. The headache had subsided, and although she knew yesterday had been stressful, the details of the memory had melted into the vague knowledge that she’d offended Mr. Fell and his husband by offering to buy the rainbow boa. She did have a sneaking suspicion that she might not be welcome back at the bookshop again. She hoped the snake would be okay.
She went to make breakfast.
There was a voicemail on her phone, from an unfamiliar number. Katia listened to it while her eggs were frying.
“Hello, dear girl. This is A. Z. Fell.”
She blinked in surprise, trying to remember when she’d even given Mr. Fell her number… and then realized she’d missed the rest of the message. She replayed it, paying more attention this time.
“Hello, dear girl. This is A. Z. Fell. After further consideration of the offer you made yesterday and of your reasoning, I believe we may be able to come to a mutually satisfactory arrangement.”
“Did you just call it an arrangement?” a sharp voice, which Katia recognized as belonging to Crowley-the-human, interjected in the background of the voicemail recording.
“Oh, hush, dear. An accord, if you prefer. In any case, madam, do please feel free to drop by the shop later today if you are still interested in the, ah, transaction you proposed.”
There was another sarcastic-sounding mutter from Crowley that Katia couldn’t quite make out, and then a click as the message ended.
Well. That was interesting.
She finished the eggs, ate breakfast at her leisure, and washed the dishes. Then, with a fortifying breath, Katia fetched her wallet and a plastic snake tub (she didn’t trust Fell to have one ready to go) and headed to Soho.
~ ~ ~
“Are you sure?” Katia couldn’t help but ask, staring in near-disbelief at the rainbow boa now coiled inside her tub. (She had been right to plan ahead and bring it.) Granted, this was exactly the outcome she’d been hoping for… but she hadn’t been very optimistic about her odds of actually realizing that outcome, and having her offer accepted now with such total equanimity was throwing her for a loop.
“Quite sure, now I’ve had time to think about it.” Mr. Fell smiled reassuringly at her. “You were right, after all. A snake belongs with someone who can give him the love and good husbandry he deserves.”
“I agree,” Crowley-the-human said in a drawl, taking Fell’s hand. “Very important for snakes to be with people who love them and husband them well.”
It was the first time she’d seen the two Crowleys in the same room, Katia realized. It said something about the momentousness of the occasion, she mused, that he would overcome his aversion enough to be here and support his partner through what had to be a very difficult moment.
Although, for someone as attached to his pet as much as Fell had always seemed before, the book dealer looked and sounded remarkably calm and composed about having just agreed to give up Crowley-the-snake. She supposed he was just the stoic sort.
“All right, then,” she said, trying to sound reassuring in her turn. “I’ll certainly give him the best care I possibly can.”
The snake certainly needed it. The signs of unwellness that she’d been looking for in vain before were finally visible: sunken eyes, a few patches of dry, peeling skin, and the like. Nothing too severe-looking for Katia to be fairly confident she and her vet would be able to nurse him back to health, though. She was almost looking forward to it.
“And,” she persisted, just to make sure, “you’re certain you don’t want money for him? I brought cash…”
Fell waved her off. “No, no, keep it. We’ve already agreed how you’ll be paying, haven’t we?”
“Right.” Katia shook her head, still scarcely believing this turn of events. “I teach you about how to take proper care of snakes. So you’ll be prepared to get another eventually?”
There was a pause. Then, “Why else would I need to know?” Fell asked with an awkward chuckle.
“What,” Crowley-the-human chimed in, “you think he’s going to use what you teach him on me?”
Katia laughed.
It was sure to be a challenge, trying to educate these two (or at least that one; she wasn’t sure yet if Crowley-the-human would be involved). But it would be interesting. And despite herself, Katia did like the shop and the couple — even when they didn’t have a snake for her to come visit.
Besides, she’d gotten her very own rainbow boa out of it all. Katia certainly wasn’t about to complain.
~ ~ ~
“Well,” said Aziraphale, dropping onto the sofa with a satisfied grunt, “I think that all went very nicely.”
“I guess so.” Crowley flopped down with his head on his best friend’s lap. “Where’d you get the snake, anyway?”
“Er.” Aziraphale frowned. “America, I think?[14] I simply told the miracle to find a rainbow scarf—”
“ Boa.”
“—in need of a good home.”
It was a good thing the angel hadn’t accidentally miracled up a piece of winterwear, Crowley thought wryly.[15] “Good job,” he said out loud. “That makes at least two snakes that now have good homes, thanks to you.”
Aziraphale stroked his hair. “And at least one angel, thanks to you.”
“Sappy bastard.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Takes one to know one.”
Aziraphale smiled down at him, so very warmly that Crowley changed back to his serpentine form so he could bask in it.
Footnotes
1 By “snake person,” of course, Katia meant a person who liked snakes. She would have been rather surprised to learn that there was in fact a literal snake person in the room.[return to text]
2 Aziraphale shuddered slightly. He had a grudge against Australia, though he’d long ago forgotten the reason.[return to text]
3 It was not a very snakelike groaning sound, but fortunately there were no humans present to hear it. Katia would have been alarmed.[return to text]
4 Katia, had she still been present, would have been well beyond alarmed at the deeply ill-advised act of allowing a potential constrictor to curl around a human neck.[return to text]
5 Crowley-the-person continued to leave the room every time before the snake made an appearance. Frankly, Katia was impressed that he and Fell were able to make it work at all (whatever “it” was; she still wasn’t completely sure of the nature of their relationship), with one of them having such obvious ophidiophobia and the other keeping a snake. Still, she was happy for them.[return to text]
6 Aziraphale, as it happened, felt very similarly about Katia.[return to text]
7 Or, rather, ssssnickering.[return to text]
8 And, if she did, how in the world was she supposed to explain “The snake looks like he’s in perfect health, but his owner says he gets bubble baths” over the phone?[return to text]
9 Coincidentally, she’d gotten the bonus very shortly after a day at A. Z. Fell’s when she’d inadvertently gotten rid of a customer by making small talk about how much she loved the bookshop snake. She hadn’t known that the customer absolutely hated snakes.[return to text]
10 Katia was far from the first person to wonder such a thing about Aziraphale. Though most of the others wondered if he would be willing to sell his books or the shop itself, not the snake.[return to text]
11 While Katia had of course spent significantly more time with him than she realized, it was still technically true that she hadn’t spoken to him as much as to Fell.[return to text]
12 Not these days, anyway. The days of “We’re not friends” were a thing of the past, and Their Side was well-established.[return to text]
13 Specifically, Crowley was that kind of person when he happened to be interacting with a human who had no idea they were talking to the same snake over whom they had been oohing and ahhing a short time ago.[return to text]
14 In Minnesota, a teenager who had bought a snake on a dare from a friend and promptly regretted it wondered how in the world her snake had disappeared overnight… and privately sighed in relief that at least she didn’t have to worry any longer about being responsible for it.[return to text]
15 Aziraphale’s first miracle attempt had not resulted in winterwear, but it had actually resulted in a beautiful silken scarf. He’d hidden it in the drawer with some of their other Pride attire, and planned to gift it to Crowley once enough time had passed that the demon might not figure out where it had come from.[return to text]