Chapter Text
The structure of heaven was complicated to humans, but simple to angels. There was the Almighty, Her speaker, the supreme archangel, the rest of the archangels, and many other variations of angelic beings, all with different purposes, and of course their own liberties. Some angels were aloud to see and do things others weren’t.
If you looked at it from a certain standpoint, the scriveners at the very, very bottom of the hierarchy got to see it all. Documents, files, etc. And even occasionally they were allowed access the Book of Life.
Currently, the lowest ranking scrivener was carrying that same book back to its rightful place. They could practically feel the energy and years of existence waiting to happen. Some of the upper ranked scriveners even got the chance of attempting to decode it once. Occasionally, Muriel had glanced at them, but they hadn’t seen them since about 90 human years ago. Perhaps they got promoted.
They tried not to look too excited since it was an unprofessional act as they entered the room the heavy book was confined to. Blinding, holy light came from its walls, if there were any. Angels had heightened senses, including eye-sight and pupil dilation or retraction, but it still affected them. Muriel shut their eyes routinely, and slowly stepped forward with one hand out until the felt the pedestal’s lectern. Carefully, they placed the book down, thanked the Almighty for Her grace and protection, and began feeling for the exit almost urgently.
On their way back to their office to be unbothered for the next century, they averted their gaze down as some Dominions passed by them. If they looked too disappointed to be going back to their desk, the two superiors would surely question them. That’s how they spotted a small, rectangular box. Folding down graciously and carefully, they examined it where it was on the ground with curiosity.
<———>
6000 years. It’d been 6000 years since their creation, and ever since they’d been reading over recorded history and files using pre written texts from more important angels, and taking them to said more important angels when it was asked of them.
They’d stayed in heaven that whole entire time, their whole existence, and not once had they wanted to leave. Before leaving heaven they were given a paper. Habit almost took over and they began reviewing it, until the angel that handed it to them explained it was a “crash course” of how the humans acted in the area they were being sent. The same angel had sighed a moment before, when they asked Muriel if they’d been down to earth before, to which they replied no. Reading the papers’ contents, they found that the language spoken down there was English, read and written left to right, primarily the “British” version of English, humans walked almost everywhere, and didn’t interact with humans they didn’t know. That seemed easy enough.
Before they even said they understood it, they were retrieved by the two archangels that had given them this task. It all seemed a bit rushed, but archangels always looked busy.
Archangel Micheal and Uriel escorted them down from heaven using the elevator, and arrived in a very vast area of earth. It was very big, almost what it looked like outside the windows of Heaven, except more colors and shapes. Their humanly corporation was taking it all in without them telling it to, taking in all the life and- they quickly stopped marveling to turn back around to the two archangels, returning back to professionalism.
“Your task” Archangel Uriel started, “Is to go to this building.” They took out two papers from their grey blazer, handing it to the low ranked angel. One was a photo of the mentioned building and the other was a map with a list of directions on the back. It was in Hebrew, thank goodness since it was much more natural to Muriel.
Archangel Micheal continued, adding, “That’s where the traitor is currently. There was quite a strong miracle performed there, and we have reason to suspect he has something to do with the disappearance of Gabriel. Be subtle, pretend to be a human officer. The traitor seems to be…” She paused. “More lenient to humans.”
Muriel nodded, understanding. They were finally getting recognized and to do a task ,directly from the Archangels no less. Usually, it was one of the 1st-10th class Scriveners, those who did the writing, that gave them orders. No one above that even knew they’d existed, well except for that one time a few millennia ago with the principality. This was a big improvement;being helpful and needed.
“I’ll complete my task.” They said, trying to remain serious and contain every ounce of excitement and enthusiasm they had. As the two archangels turned and walked back to the elevator, and it disappeared as it went up, Muriel finally smiled.
What exactly did a human officer act like? They pondered as they began walking. Heaven had regulators, and almost every angel was recruited when times of war, like Armageddon, but when you live in a place that’s devoid of sin, you didn’t exactly need any specific group. The difference between angels and humans, however is that humans lack the same amount of restraint as angels do. They act purely on instinct and emotion, with their bodies controlling their actions, even if they are the most self-aware creatures on earth.
For a moment they considered asking a human what officers act like-they knew humans were near because there were houses-, but unfortunately they were already dressed in their human disguise. Clean, blinding white separated them from the greens and browns in the environment. White clothes were rarely used nowadays in heaven, swapped out with grey and, for the scriveners, light browns. It felt new and different and that was good. There was rarely any white at all on earth, there wasn’t any exact colors or really any exact anything to be honest. That giddy, curiosity rose in them again, to which the angel reminded themselves that curiosity leads to distraction.
Walking more, the sound they made when the white shoes collided with the ground switch from a soft, barely heard squish of the wet ground to a sharp crunch. They quickly looked down, and saw they were on tiny rocks. There was a whole path of rocks actually. It continued on over the hills and farther more to where they couldn’t see. When they stopped there was more sound, like a distant tiny buzzing noise. It scared Muriel, just a bit, so they continued walking on the path of tiny rocks-which they remembered was called a road-to distract them from the noise.
Quickly, in celestial terms, the sky above them turned a brighter shade of blue and more creatures came out, the buzzing finally left, replaced with the sound of birds, some more alarming than others. The greenery and distance between houses faded until they entered a city with each building pushed together. The people seemed pushed together too. They were all talking to the point where, from Muriel’s perspective, they couldn’t make out anything but the talking. It made their head buzz between an ache.
Heaven was never this loud unless in times of panic, and even then it filled with vocalizations. It made them unable to focus and even think.
Pulling out the map once again, they realized they were on the wrong side of the “street” and needed to go on the opposing side. They would’ve walked over to it, but there were vehicles passing by vertically when Muriel needed to cross horizontally without getting hit by a vehicle. This was their first obstacle of their mission, but surely if humans figured out a way around this, an angel could do it ten times better.
Using a miracle or flying themselves across was inhuman, so that was out of the question. Maybe if they timed it right in accordance to the rate at which each vehicle passed by-no, they’re all uncoordinated and inconsistent, there’s no proper equation for it. As the thought of how to do it puzzled them, they noticed two humans had stopped beside them, watching the direction vehicles came from.
Slowly, one stopped for them, and they ran across with their hands intertwined. The act was clearly for protection, much like Sea Otters. Muriel didn’t have anyone’s hand to hold so they just held onto their other one, thinking an angel’s hand is more safer than a humans, before looking onto the street and waiting. Eventually a car did stop and the angel smiled at it, repeating the same action of running across to the other side.
The crisis was averted, and they could get back to the mission on hand.
They’d picked up on the concept of human currency and how every thing that is able to be possessed physically can be exchanged for shiny rocks or paper. They’d also figured out that humans can earn it through labor. Heaven didn’t have that same sort of transactional system. To even think of saying they never earned anything from working for heaven made them feel like they’d done something wrong. Obviously they earned things;the love of the almighty and the ability to love entirely, protection, and purpose. Even if they hadn’t earned all of those things, it’s heaven! How could someone not want to be on that side? They supposed humans weren’t exactly born on any sort of side, so they didn’t instantly have a job to do.
The first word though, book, was already familiar to them, thanks to the occasional time they’d have to take the Book of Life back to where it belongs when a more important angel used it. Why would an angel want to have a book-shop? They thought.
Muriel refocused themselves before the question consumed them. They thought of knocking like they did in heaven, but they were trying to convince the traitor they were human, and the one thing about humans is that they were very intrusive when given authority. Even if the traitor was an angel, knowing they were an angel would make him not want to answer any questions or even let them in, so, they cleared their throat and did their best impression of a human police officer.
“Open up! Police!”
As they said it, a rush of excitement sparked. They’d never really were supposed to be focused on for long, and if they were it meant they made a mistake. There was always a sense of being ignored from upper ordered scriveners.
The shop door opened and there he stood;the traitorous principality, Aziraphale. He certainly didn’t look like a traitor, his tan clothes and pastels friendly and very similar to what a scrivener would wear. But his clothes weren’t as, what was the word?, precise and proper. His waist coat was worn, cardigan had loose threads and a tiny little hairs of wool all along it. He looked almost like a friend than foe and his voice gave them a point of focus despite the overwhelming noise from the humans.
Muriel went back to their persona. “ ‘Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello! What’s all this then?”
“Good morning, officer.”
“Yes! Exactly! I’m a human police officer.”
“Hmm. I thought you probably were.”
The 37th order scrivener beamed. “Did you? Really? Oh, wonderful. Well, you’re right, I am.” Their voice barely contained their pride.
The non-the-wiser traitor spoke again. “Jolly good. And err, how can I help you?”
“Well, sir. As you may know, as a human police officer, I can unobtrusively monitor you without raising suspicion.”
“Indeed you can.”
“Great! Well, could I come in and do it inside please? Only cause it's really noisy out here and I can't hear anything.”
This was it, the moment of truth.
“By all means.” The traitorous angel said, opening the door more so Muriel could walk in. They did so, as instructed. It was much more quieter, and you couldn’t really hear the noise outside. However, there wasn’t any echo like in heaven. “Cup of tea, officer?” He asked.
Muriel had no clue what a cupperty was, but it didn’t sound bad. “Umm…yes?”
Hearing their possible uncertainty, humans couldn’t usually make up their minds, the angel said, “A human police officer would generally accept a cup of tea.”
“Ah! Then so shall I.”
The angel left the room for a moment, whilst Muriel was looking around the space for possibly clues and indications that archangel Gabriel had been here. They saw none, but did see how dark the place was, or darker rather. Small lamps, yellow bulb, illuminated the space, and the floor faded from wood planks to carpet. Every color that was in the shop was comforting, and by the time Muriel was done inspecting, Aziraphale walked back to the space, handing them a small cup with a handle seated on a little dish. They held it carefully by the small dish, noticing the intricate porcelain and warm liquid in it. There wasn’t exactly any indication of what they should do with it.
He moved to sit down in a cushioned chair and they did the same, sitting in a wooden chair. There weren’t any chairs in heaven, at least not in Muriel’s office.
“To drink.” He informed them, before ingesting the liquid into his corporation. This is the time where Muriel would’ve made their body swallow nervously, if they knew how.
“You know, I think I'll just look at mine for a while.” The warmth on their fingertips was nice, so that’s was a plus.
“As you please.”
“Great! I always say the best part of a "cupperty" is looking at it.”
Just then, the bookshop door opened. Muriel didn’t turn around, focusing on the figure across from them and occasionally the cupperty, but a sense of evil alarmed them as the man talked, seeming irritated.
“This is ridiculous! Why don't you just go by train? You love trains. Who's this now?”
He was looking at Muriel through his dark sunglasses, matching his dark clothes. He seemed human enough. Surprisingly, Aziraphale responded similar to how he had with them, this time with more...something. Almost more softness. “This is a human police officer who's just popped in to have a quick look at a cup of tea.”
“ ‘Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello.”
The man, was he a man?, sauntered over, sitting behind the angel. It was odd, but expected. He was a traitor, so some sort of influence should’ve led him to it. Now, he smiled, still softly somehow. “Tell me, Constable-“ he started.
“Inspector.” They corrected.
Aziraphale took another drink of his cupperty before stating, “Oh... You know, you are dressed as a constable.”
Muriel hadn’t thought of that, but luckily since they were an angel they had an easy solution. “Inspector Constable! That's my name.”
The human laughed. “Of course it is. First visit to Earth, is it, by any chance?”
Now, that made them smile. “Yes! It's amazing, isn't it? Just the-“ They finally processed the question. How did he know? Humans weren’t supposed to be this smart. Quickly recovering, they replied. “Or rather, no. Obviously I've been here for, like... 200 years. Oh! But when I said yes just then, that was an error, which proves that I'm human.”
“Of course. Perhaps you meant this is your first visit to London?” The fellow angel offered.
“Yes! That's right. I was recently transferred to London from another... human settlement.”
Quickly, the man caught on once again. “Oh yeah? Which one?”
Okay, the human had figured it out this time, of course they could tell when something wasn’t the same species as them. But luckily, they only needed the traitor to think them to be Inspector Constable. It wasn’t as if the two had a mutual relationship-suddenly, the two were standing up, the angel placing his cupperty on his desk, as the man said “Word with you, Angel, in private.”
“But, no! But err... I'm supposed to observe you.” Panic was evident in there voice.
The friendly angel, complete opposite of the human, calmed their panic. “Oh, don't worry. We can always tell you everything we talked about afterwards.”
The second crisis was averted, and all was well again. Muriel was sure, like all humans, that the human had forgotten about the incident due to a short memory. “Ah, great! Thanks!” They replied, as the two “men” walked into a room in the shop. Good, it gave them more time to inspect the premises.
Again, no suspicious evidence at first, but they skimmed over the spines of all the books on the shelves. There were several shelves and even more books on them. Each one seemed unique, and very interesting, to the point where Muriel considered looking at one of them more closely.
They then reflected on the man in dark clothing. Demons did where dark clothing, even if they hadn’t every met one, they could still figure out that the opposite of angels who wore white and lighter colors would be something that wore darker ones, but demons were also very, very persuasive and unkept, often having mold, tears or grit on their clothes, which the man that entered did not.
Eventually, the man and Aziraphale came back into the room Muriel was standing in. He, the angel, looked a bit more content like he had won something and was very proud of himself. His friend still looked a bit cross, but less so as he turned to them again.
“All done?” They asked.
“Yes! Nothing you need to worry about. Listen, you wouldn't be interested in humans falling in love, would you? I know for some members of the police force it's a bit of a hobby.” The dark clothed man replied.
“Yes! Yes, I am! Oh, especially...”
Before they could continue, he did again. “Maggie and Nina over the road. Ah, yes. Well, we, humans of Earth have a saying: you can only tell if people are in love by waiting a few days because humans are weird and that's how it works.”
“Oh... yes! I knew that.” That response was very frequent in there vocabulary, especially when talking with other angels in heaven, holding the same amount of enthusiasm.
“Well, don't hesitate to ask me if you have any other questions about love, Inspector... Constable. I'll just be here helping to run this bookshop while my friend drives my car to Edinburgh.”
Before leaving the bookshop, shortly after the human handed over a pair of keys to Aziraphale, and the two men went their respective ways, they added “Edinburgh” to their list of human colonies alongside “London”.
Muriel ended up taking the humans advice, walking back out to the still noisy street. This time, they paid attention to the signs above each shop, reminding themselves left to right not right to left. It was at this point the scrivener had concluded that in all their time of reading big collections of words, that they 1) had never really focused on the contents and meanings that arose when the words were strung together, and 2) humans were so funny when they did it.
Things such as, “The Small Back Room” and “Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death” and even “The Dirty Donkey Pub”. While they had no clue what a “pub” was nor the slightest idea of how it related to dirty animals, but it was all so strange and funny, to the point where they couldn’t help but giggle like a human child.
As humans passed by, staring at the faux Constable with clean, unnecessarily white attire as they laughed at something, they quickly rationalized it as someone who was either completely mad or just weird. But, Muriel didn’t notice, nor did they care.