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Aziraphale had been having a lovely day. The weather had been pleasant, his store delightfully empty of customers, and Crowley had stopped by for a bit with a wonderful bottle of sauvignon they shared over lunch. His plans for the rest of the evening consisted of rearranging a portion of his extensive collection and then settling down with a good book and a cup of cocoa, and he had almost managed to do one of these things before the familiar presence of another inhuman entity making itself known put him off his needlessly complicated sorting system. Part of him hoped it was Crowley, having forgotten something during their earlier rendezvous. And as long as he remained firmly planted behind a bookshelf he could continue to hope this was the case.
"Hello? Aziraphale?"
Oh no. It wasn't Crowley.
"Gabriel! So sorry, I was just reshelving some of the Jane Austin novels, how can I help you?" Gabriel was never a welcome sight, despite Aziraphale's own insistence that they were both on the same divine team. The archangel that rarely but all too often intruded on Aziraphale's quiet afternoons looked exactly as he had the last time he popped in to 'check in'. This was code for 'admonish or compliment Aziraphale for his work on earth, often leaving him feeling uncomfortable and out of place no matter the occasion', and thus the angelic bookstore owner never really looked forward to his higher ups or their unexpected visits.
"Hello again Aziraphale! Everything is going well I hope." Things had, in fact, been going well. That was no longer the case.
"Well- I mean things are fine, completely fine. Any reason for your visit Gabriel?"
"Yes! A very important reason actually. You, Aziraphale, have been chosen for an especially important celestial task! You know Mick, right?" At this point, Gabriel stepped to the side revealing the figure who had previously been hidden by both his height and his somewhat imposing presence. Now in full view, the shorter angel that Aziraphale hadn't noticed until just now continued to stand as still as a statue.
"No? No I'm afraid I've never had the pleasure," he held out his hand, expecting the new presence to reciprocate the greeting. "I'm Aziraphale, former angel of the eastern gate." Having closed the distance, he now noticed two things. One, the alarming scar carved into Mick's(?) face that resembled four claw marks, and that the expression he had previously assumed was a pleasant smile seemed a bit... uncomfortable? Painted on? He stayed there for a moment, hand outstretched, until he realized that the other angel hadn't so much as blinked in acknowledgement and had instead been staring into the middle-distance behind him, presumably since they arrived in his bookshop. He was almost tempted to wave a well manicured hand in front of their face, just to check if someone was home, but Gabriel was still standing barely a few feet away and it felt somewhat unprofessional.
"Well Mick has always been an angel of few words, but I'm sure they'll be of great use to you here, in this bookshop!"
"Ah, of course, I'm sure they- wait what??"
"We've decided that since Armageddon is only getting closer, and you've done such an exemplary job down here on Earth, that you'd be the perfect person to help Mick here ease back into an active role in heaven."
"Gabriel I'm not sure-"
"No need to thank me of course, the idea was suggested at the latest meeting and you were the first person I had in mind for the job!"
"Gabriel please I don't think-"
"And thwarting a demonic plan or two would be the perfect practice to help them get back into fighting shape, right Mick?" At this Gabriel clapped the angel on the shoulder, clearly a gesture meant to be encouraging, but it seemed oddly sad paired with the vacant expression and the rigid posture the angel known as Mick maintained. Like watching your superior applaud a cardboard cutout. This severe lack of reaction seemed to almost throw Gabriel for a loop, the pleased expression waning for just a millisecond before he continued on in stride.
"All you have to do is supervise them for another decade or two, take them on a few blessings, and then check back in for Armageddon, easy!" Aziraphale knew at this point that this was one of those non-negotiable matters, the kind where Gabriel would get the order out so fast you didn't have the time or nerve to manage a full complaint about it, but that had never stopped him before.
"Listen, Gabriel, I don't know if I'm the right angel for this. Wouldn't it make more sense, I don't know, to have them tag along with someone who more regularly works in heaven?" At this he saw angel statue, for he could only assume this was a statue and not a living being, twitch. It was so subtle he almost missed it, but he was almost certain he saw the corner of their almost eery smile falter. This gave him pause.
"Of course you're the man for the job! We wouldn't give you such an important assignment if you weren't. Listen, I have to go now, very busy up there, you know how it is."
"Hold on, one second-"
"We'll be in touch, as usual, good luck Aziraphale!"
"Gabriel!" Too late. He had already vanished, leaving the white elephant in dark brown slacks and a pale yellow blouse behind. While Aziraphale was used to his higher-ups dropping in, giving complex orders, and then leaving just as abruptly, this was entirely new. Typically once someone gave him the information, he was left as alone as he was before the someone showed up. Never before had an order come with an added plus one. Meanwhile, said plus one was still standing still enough to be mistaken for an odd art instalation, or one of those paintings where the eyes seemed to follow you through the room-
oh no. While he had been panicking, the haunting golden eyes that had previously been staring at something past the horizon had focused on him, and were now tracing his anxious pacing. No, it didn't feel as though they were looking at him. They were looking through him, through his very being, sifting through his angelic essence and taking in the whole of him. He felt like an ant under a spotlight, or perhaps a well dressed amoeba pressed up to the glass of a microscope. It didn't feel malicious, but it was terribly clinical, and left him feeling very uncomfortable.
And just as soon as it began the eyes lost their focus, having apparently found what they were looking for, and settled somewhere around his face. As if they were a computer suddenly being fed new information, Mick shifted slightly, now actually facing Aziraphale who was still at a complete loss, and slowly held out their hand.
"Hello! My name is anything but Michael. This isn't in heaven?" Their voice was surprisingly pleasant, almost like a melody, the kind a child figures out if left alone with a piano. Vaguely musical, earnest, and if given enough time it could develop into a song, but as of now too out of tune and clearly not enough practice with the instrument. Aziraphale was so shocked by the sudden movement that it took him a moment to register words had been spoken before his deeply ingrained English manners took over.
"N-no, no I don't suppose it is. I thought your name was Mick?"
"Anything but Michael! What was your name?" Their hand was still outstretched, and showed no signs of retreating on its own. Aziraphale tentatively grasped it in his own, noting the almost cuff like gold bracelets that had previously been hidden behind their back with their hands.
"...Aziraphale. I believe I introduced myself earlier?" He was certain he had introduced himself earlier. Mick seemed to consider this information for a moment before a flicker of recognition passed their eyes.
"Aziraphale, former angel of the eastern gate, you did introduce yourself! I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention." That was an understatement. Aziraphale was now close enough to take in the details of this angel's corporeal form, which seemed less like a physical body and more like a set of clothes that barely fit. Part of him considered that perhaps Mick moved so deliberately because they were scared any sudden movement would tear the human visage. His unfortunate guest had short hair styled in a pale bob that framed their almost rounded face. It was nearly the same color as his own, and was tucked neatly behind the ears. Their eyes were both an almost golden yellow, and now that he was closer he could see that the right eye had a milky white pupil, which partly explained the unfocused look on their face. There was a gold choker securely fastened on their neck that matched the cuff-like bracelets, and they were wearing gold collar pins that were fashioned to look like small wings.
Realizing they still had a firm grasp on his hand, Aziraphale let go and attempted to retreat to a more comfortable distance.
"I suppose you'll be staying here for some amount of time?"
"As long as you don't mind! I'll be fine anywhere," mick returned their hands to what was apparently their default position, politely clasped behind their back. "I don't know if I've ever been to earth before." A pause, and another contemplative look. "No I have, I just can't remember why. But I like this place. It's different than heaven." Their painted on smile seemed to have been replaced with a more genuine one, if only for a moment. The principality softened a bit at this in spite of himself. This may be an unwanted guest, but they were still a guest, and as such he supposed he ought to treat them like one.
"I'm glad you like it. Would you like to have a seat while I fix us some tea? I don't suppose you've had tea before?" A shake of the head. "Tea is a human drink, it's quite lovely. Would you like some?" The genuine smile returned, and the last bit of reluctance seemed to melt into resignation despite his best efforts. While this was far from ideal, he did have a spare room, and extra help chasing customers away was always welcome. It seemed that he was going to have a rather odd houseguest for the foreseeable future. He had better warn Crowley.