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"Sir, I tell you again, I do not sell this book."
Nor any of the books in this bookshop, Crowley thought amusedly. Though he was careful not to say it out loud.
From the last few steps of the stairs, he watched Aziraphale gently dismiss the reluctant customer, ready to intervene if the occasion arose.
Aziraphale, however, handled the situation perfectly, with that grace of his and, most importantly, that smile that fools most people.
Most people.
Crowley, on the other hand, was not fooled at all.
The customer may have been fooled by the angel's smile, but Crowley knew that behind that smile was a deep-seated annoyance, and that if Aziraphale said what was on his mind at that moment, the customer would not leave the store with a near smile on his face, despite leaving empty-handed.
He made his way down the last few steps toward the angel, who was returning to the inside of the bookshop.
When Aziraphale saw him, he immediately smiled and exclaimed, "Oh, Crowley, you're here! Finished your little nap?"
This smile had nothing to do with the one he'd just witnessed.
It hid absolutely nothing and showed all the sheer joy the angel had in seeing him, and that humbled Crowley.
"I need some coffee, would you like me to get you something, Angel?"
Aziraphale walked over to his desk, grabbed the empty cup that was on it, and walked back over to Crowley, handing it to him, "Would you mind making me a cup of tea?"
The demon grabbed the cup as he replied, "I'll do that for you."
"Thank you, dear."
Crowley went to the back of the shop and began making tea and coffee. While he waited for the water to heat, he leaned against the doorframe and watched Aziraphale as he put away the book the customer had come to buy.
The angel was smiling again.
This time it was the smile he had when he was doing something he loved. Caring for his precious books. Listening to classical music on his gramophone.
Aziraphale smiled a lot, so people often thought of him as someone who had his head in the clouds, with everything running off him like water off a duck's back. That it was part of his cheerful personality.
But people were wrong.
Nothing went over Aziraphale's head, he just swallowed it and hid it behind a smile.
And after more than 6,000 years, Crowley knew a lot about his angel's smile.
He remembered the first of Aziraphale's smiles, after he'd become a demon, like it was yesterday.
They watched Adam fight the lion, and Crawley wondered aloud, "What if I did the right thing with the whole 'eat the apple' business?" He looked at the angel and added, "A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing. It'd be funny if we both got it wrong, eh?"
Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "If I did the good thing and you did the bad one."
He couldn't help but chuckle a little. Then the angel looked at him, smiled shyly, then more openly, and finally laughed with him.
It only lasted a split second, and the angel stopped almost immediately, shaking his head, "No. It wouldn't be funny at all."
After that, Crowley made it a point to elicit those smiles. Those smiles the Angel would make when he was drawn into the shared understanding they had. Those smiles often lasted only a few seconds because Aziraphale quickly remembered what they were and couldn't quite accept that he, an angel, was laughing with a demon.
But thankfully, those half smiles were gone now.
Crowley had discovered so many of the angel's smiles over the years.
One that irritated him immensely when directed at him was that cheeky little smile that Aziraphale had when he was sure he was right about something.
Oh, how the demon had longed to wipe it from his lips when the angel smiled like that.
Like that day in Job's house.
"Then... Then tell me you want to do this. You look me in the eye and tell me." The angel had walked up to Crawley and was now staring into his eyes.
Crawley took off his glasses and had no choice but to answer harshly, though he didn't mean it, "I want to. I long to destroy the blameless children of blameless Job, as I destroyed his blameless goats."
He wished he hadn't seen the disappointment in the angel's eyes as he said, "Then God forgive you," before walking away.
They were both going their separate ways when suddenly one of the birds began to bleat.
They both turned and the angel looked around as several other birds began to bleat in turn.
When he saw him raise his hand, Crawley knew he'd been found out.
The birds turned into goats and Aziraphale looked at him, put his hands on his hips and gave a little smile that immediately annoyed Crawley.
A smile that said, "I knew it. I've always known. I figured you out."
Crowley remembered with amusement now, though he'd been more annoyed at the time, that the Angel had held that smile for a long time that day.
But even though it irritated him, he preferred it to the smile Aziraphale used to give him when he wasn't sure of himself, as if to apologize for not being up to the task. Crowley had once had that smile directed at him, and he promised himself that he would never again give the angel an occasion to feel that way in his presence.
Crowley wondered how he was going to make Aziraphale understand that his trick wasn't big enough for the theater where he was going to perform.
He lowered his glasses and said in a theatrical voice, "What you just did is remarkable, I don't have the foggiest notion how it's done.
Then he said in a normal voice, "But that's a trick for close quarters, eh? What you do tonight has to be bigger."
Seeing the disappointment Aziraphale was trying to hide behind his smile, Crowley hated himself for being the one to put him there.
The angel said in a much less confident voice, "I see, yeah, you're right, of course."
Crowley tried to make him understand that he wasn't the problem, just that something more was needed, adding, "We need something new, something dramatic."
He leaned forward and asked, "You know if there's somewhere we can... I don't know, buy tricks."
Aziraphale, his voice much duller, replied hesitantly, "Well, there is, ah... Will Goldstone's Magic Shop. But that's for professional conjurers only."
Crowley rose and approached him, saying with passion and determination, "You, my Nefertiti fooling fellow, are about to perform on the West End stage."
The angel made an uncertain little face and Crowley continued, "If that doesn't make you a professional conjurer, I don't know what does."
Aziraphale's expression changed dramatically as the brightest smile blossomed on his lips. The smile of one who feels validated.
From that day forward, Crowley promised himself he'd take every opportunity to put that smile on the angel's lips.
That day, he had begun to understand that Aziraphale was probably not really acknowledged in Heaven. His time in Aziraphale's body had given him even more insight into the subject, and finally the smile on Aziraphale's face from the moment Gabriel regained his memory.
Crowley saw the moment when Gabriel was in full possession of his memories. The moment his pupils turned purple again. He turned to the angel and looked at him with that arrogant little smile that had nothing to do with Jim. Even his voice had that slight note of contempt as he said with a smile, "Aziraphale," the moment he recognized him.
Crowley's attention immediately turned to the angel and he saw the fake smile. The one that was there to hide what the mere utterance of his name by that damned Archangel had triggered in Aziraphale. Crowley moved imperceptibly closer to the angel, ready to intervene at the slightest danger.
But Gabriel turned away with a faint sneer, and Crowley felt the angel relax instantly.
Crowley was furious just thinking about that split-second scene. For it had proven to him once again how badly Heaven had treated Aziraphale.
"Are you all right, dear?"
Aziraphale's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
He replied gently, "Yeah, I'm just finishing up."
Aziraphale looked at him with a slight concern on his face and said, "You looked really lost in thought."
Crowley shook his head and said reassuringly, "Lost, and yet I was thinking of you."
Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and asked, "Me?"
"What, you don't like the fact that you occupy all my thoughts?"
The angel blushed slightly and admitted, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it."
Then he smiled.
Crowley had seen him smile many times in the past, but Aziraphale had never looked at him. He'd never spoken to him directly.
When they'd toasted after the show in 1941
Right after Crowley had taken the paint off his jacket.
Right after he'd had a sip of champagne at the Ritz.
Aziraphale always gave that little smile as he watched him surreptitiously.
But never directly.
However, there was nothing furtive about the smile he was giving Crowley right now.
It was as if all those little sideways smiles were buds that had now fully blossomed.
Crowley stepped closer and, closing the distance between them, placed his hand on Aziraphale's cheek. The smile did not leave the angel's lips as he leaned his head into the demon's hand.
Crowley gently brushed his thumb across the smiling lips and whispered, "That's the one."
"What?" asked Aziraphale, puzzled.
Crowley replied softly, "That's the smile I love the most. Because it hides nothing. Because it tells me everything."
Aziraphale replied gently, "And what does it tell you?"
Crowley stepped closer and whispered, "It's a secret."
Then he pressed his lips to the angel's to kiss the smile he loved so much.
The smile that told him better than words how much he was loved.