Author's Note: Unlike many places and shops which I've mentioned in my fics so far, the bookstore in this chapter is my first completely fictional shop. Again, my sincerest apologies for taking so long with this.
FOR A FAVOR RETURNED
Chapter 7
Paulo entered Serendipity Books in a hurried huff, attempting to get out of the rain as fast as possible. He took a moment to run a hand through his dark hair for a cursory check if everything was in order before shrugging off his black leather jacket. The bookstore smelled throroughly of ink, paper and coffee, and Paulo eyed the place warily. He really wasn't one for books, and the place must be frequented by such dowdy characters like his Aunt Lucia. Still though, he thought glancing at the heavy downpour outside, it was a respite from the sudden rain. He took a few steps forward tentatively, found that it actually felt somewhat friendly - the rich coffee scent lingering in the air certainly helped - and trudged on to look for a magazine rack.
It was about a half hour later when Paulo realized that someone had been following him. A sales clerk in a bright green apron tapped him on the shoulder.
"I'm sorry, but I've noticed that you looked somewhat lost. Are you looking for anything in particular? Maybe I can help you find it."
Paulo turned his head, surprised and a bit embarassed that he was really actually lost. "Oh. I, ah-" He began but found that his tongue refused to work when he finally regarded the clerk standing just an armslength away from him. The first word which came to mind was 'beautiful', despite the fact that it was clearly a man before him. The second thought was; fashion trainwreck. Paulo's eyes stared at the other's features, barely believing that the guy - despite having long blonde hair and the face of a cherub - was also wearing the ugliest tartan bowtie and suspenders.
He cleared his throat, and collected himself. "I, er... was looking for a... a book. Yes. A book." Paulo said surprised that he was, for once, actually at a loss for words.
"A book." said the blonde, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Well, what kind of book?"
"A book about -" Paulo wrestled with his wits and scrambled madly with his head to say anything. Say anything, just not 'car magazines' because that would sound incredibly dumb and stereotypical, he told himself. He glanced to the side and caught sight of a woman at the in-house cafe doing a crossword puzzle.
"About crossword puzzles." he said lamely.
The store clerk's blue eyes lit up. "We've got an excellent selection!" he beamed, "I myself love crosswords. Right this way."
Paulo secretly sighed in relief and followed the guy, surprised that he didn't just find some excuse to leave. He took the opportunity to watch his unusual 'find' as they walked past shelves and counters. The blonde guy dutifully straightened up or replaced books on shelves as they passed. Paulo caught sight of a small plastic nameplate pinned to the apron, it read; OSWALD.
"Here we are." 'Oswald' gestured to the bookshelf they stopped at. It was stacked high with an assortment of number and word puzzle books.
"Er, thanks." Paulo said, and idly picked up one at random. He flipped through it, pretending to be interested and the clerk turned to leave. "Oh, hey wait!" Paulo heard himself say, "What's a good book to start with?"
The blonde turned back and paused a moment to scratch his chin, thinking. After a moment, he bent down to peer at the lower shelves and Paulo found himself eyeing the lean form in interest. Green eyes fell upon the curve of the other's hips. Paulo cleared his throat and forcibly pried his eyes away, embarassed.
"Well, if you're into word puzzles, this is a good choice." 'Oswald' said, pulling out a thick paperback. "But lately I've been into this new thing called sudoku, you might want to try it." He looked up to the higher shelves and reached for another, thinner book this time. "I absolutely love it."
Paulo was still watching the book clerk, and barely realized that the other was actually talking when a couple of books were placed in his hands. "Thanks." he said like an automaton, just unable to convince his eyes to leave this handsome-dowdy-blonde-bowtied-dandy-hottie.
"No problem." The book clerk gave the books a final pat, as if actually unwilling to let them go, and turned to presumably find another similarly 'lost' individual to assist. "Let me know how you liked them." he called smiling, "I'll catch you later."
"Sure. Later." he replied and very soon realized he was walking out of the bookstore with a couple of books he never thought he'd ever spend money on. Paulo tried getting 'Oswald the Book Clerk' out of his head the next few days but found that he couldn't. When finally he succumbed to his inner voice, and with a close friend's prodding - by the name of Chaz - to 'give-it-a-go', Paulo once again found himself walking into that same bookstore one afternoon armed with a couple of caramel macchiatoes.
He quickly tracked down the blonde at the Religion section, on his hands and knees reaching for something under a bookshelf. "Hey." Paulo said, trying in vain not to stare at a certain corduroy clad bottom.
'Oswald' suddenly looked up, cheeks flushed. He looked confused for a moment before realizing who it was. "Oh, hello." He straightened up and dusted off one filthy arm which had been rummaging under the shelf. "Back for more puzzles?"
"You could say that." Paulo said and flashed his best bastard smile. "Here, uh, for helping me last time." he almost roughly thrust forward one of the cups in his hands, unaccustomed to being 'thoughtful'.
"Oh. Thank you." the other beamed, accepting the cup.
They stared for a little bit at each other awkwardly.
"I'm Paulo." said the brunette, deciding that being awkward was just not his style. He held out one hand, "Well, Antonio Paulo, but nobody's called me that since primary school." They both laughed.
"Oswald." the other pointed to his plastic nameplate and shrugged, "Or Oz to friends." They stared at each other for a bit more, not sure what to make of the other before Oswald eventually said, "Um, would you want to have our coffee at the lounge? My break's coming up anyway. It'll be a bit cozier."
"Sure, that sounds good." Paulo said and allowed himself to be led to one of store's many couches.
They had coffee that afternoon, and the best conversation either had had in a very long time. That afternoon soon became another. And another. Until the bookstore had almost become a second haunt for Paulo, and the other staff began to fondly recognize him as Oz's newest admirer. He was annoyed about that, of course, but it didn't stop him from visiting nearly everday. It was only a matter of time before he finally asked Oz out to dinner and the blonde found himself staring at a gleaming black and silver vintage motorcycle just as he stepped out of work.
"Wow. Is that thing still operational?"
Paulo beamed like a proud father; "Isn't she gorgeous? She's a genuine BMW R42. Inherited it from my great grand dad." He hopped on and nodded to an extra helmet behind him.
Oz followed hesitantly, "Er. Is it safe?"
"Of course, it is. Now put that thing on, bought it just for you."
Oz smirked but nonetheless slipped on the silver helmet as he inspected the seat. "Still, I mean. Was this thing even designed to hold two people?"
Paulo rolled his eyes and his heel brought up the kickstand.
"And what if we go too fast? We might crash and get hurt. Or worse!"
Paulo could just see Oz's eyes wide with worry staring at the back of his head. "Ozzie, we'll be fine." he said, already used to the blonde's endless worries. He revved up the engine, and the motorcycle came to life between their legs. "Just make sure to hold on tight."
"What? Wait I -"
And of course, Paulo didn't wait. He gunned up the motor and it sped forward instantly, forcing Oz behind him to latch onto him in panic. He felt Ozzie - as he so fondly calls the bookshop clerk now - wrap lean arms around his waist, hugging tight. With the warmth of Ozzie so close, Paulo thought he could hear his heart singing over the engine, as they sped away into the night.
*******
Hastur eyed the human with interest. The mortal looked no different from any other. It smelled no different either; making him wonder very briefly if it was indeed the angel. That thought was shoved quickly to the side however, as that was exactly why its such a perfect disguise. He dropped Crowley on the pavement without ceremony, and stalked forward. The angel looked completely unarmed and vulnerable - stupid. Just like the rest of its kind. So easy to give in, all for that one emotion: love.
The demon grinned, as he marched up to the brunette staring at him defiantly. He had to admit, he quite admired the courage he saw in those eyes. Oh, but that will change angel, he thought with delight.
Just a few meters away, Aziraphale watched in horror and disbelief. He couldn't believe what was happening. What does Paulo think he's doing?! Aziraphale thought as he knelt by Crowley. A functioning part of his mind told him that most of the injuries can be healed if he used a miracle, while another, louder portion watched Hastur stalking towards Paulo in morbid fascination.
You can't possibly be doing this for me, Aziraphale thought. Why are you doing this Paulo? Is your Ozzie worth this much sacrifice?
*******
Paulo woke up with a satisfied yawn and reached for his newfound lover. His arm however found noone, and he sat up, wondering for a moment if last night had been just one heck of a hot dream. "Love?" he said, looking around. His clothes were still on the floor, as were the remains of the alchohol they'd had last night. "Oz?" he called again, feeling a little flutter of worry in his chest. There was a moment of silence before he heard the most welcome voice.
"Good morning, dear. " Ozzie said with a smile as he came in with a cup of coffee. He was already dressed, much to Paulo's disappointment. He bent down to give his lover a quick kiss on the forehead before handing him the steaming cup. "I'm afraid I must be going. Don't want to be late for work."
"But its so early." Paulo whined, and set down the cup at his nightstand. "You don't need to be at work til after lunch."
"It is after lunch." Ozzie coughed a bit and leaned forward to give him a small peck on the cheek. "I'll catch you later."
"Sure." Paulo watched the tweed-clad back disappear beyond his doorframe. The sound of footsteps soon followed and Ozzie's voice called from the stairwell.
"Make sure you water your plants soon. It's not much of a shop if your wares are dying."
"Yeah, sure." he called back and knew that despite his disinterest in the plant shop his father had most unfortunately bestowed upon him, he'd be sure to do it just because it was Ozzie who said so. None of his parents could ever make him do anything they wanted, it was only Aunt Lucia who had any modicum of control over him. And since she's passed on, there was only one individual left on this planet that had any sway over his free will; and that had become Ozzie. Paulo did not know why at that point, but he knew that from the day he met Ozzie at the bookshop, he would be with no one else. That he would do anything for his Ozzie.
Anything.
*******
Paulo stared ahead, unwilling to show any fear. He could feel the demon's hot damp breath against his neck as he scrutinized him, no doubt wondering if he was indeed who he says he was. He steeled himself, he knew exactly what was being asked of him, and he was not fooling himself anymore that it was Ozzie who was actually looking at him with those wide worried eyes.
"Aziraphale, Aziraphale." Hastur whispered harshly into the human's ear, and Paulo could hear the vicious smile upon the the demon's lips. "Finally, I meet the object of Crowley's desires."
"Hn." Paulo grunted in reply, as his eyes darted towards the two beings a few feet away from him. He was minutely thankful that he has drawn away the demon's attention enough that Hastur did not notice a blonde haired human trying to pull a bloody Crowley away into the alley.
The duke of Hell finally paused in front of Paulo, and brought his face level with the mortal. Hastur stared into the other's eyes, as if trying to read the human's mind.
*
Go make a run for it Aziraphale." Crowley wheezed as the angel tried hauling him into the alley.
Aziraphale smirked, "Stop being silly, my dear. Now help me move you somewhere safer, you could lose a few pounds."
The demon would have rolled his eyes if he had the energy to. "My bag."
"What?"
"My bag, angel." Crowley nearly growled. "I showed you how to use it. Do it."
Aziraphale paused, his eyes wide. He looked like he was about to protest out of simple habit, but had realized it was the best course of action. Especially seeing that, Paulo couldn't possibly draw Hastur's attention for too long. He let go of the demon's jacket and hurried to where the black duffel bag lay. It was heavy, and he dragged it back to a few feet next to Crowley who was busy attempting to realign some of his bones.
"Hurry. Before he notices you." Crowley said, trying to ignore the proximity of the bag. If Aziraphale makes a mistake, he may well just stop bothering trying to heal himself.
Aziraphale nodded briefly, and plucked out the heavy monstrosity from the bad and balanced it on one knee. Considering that its model name was Monster XL(1), calling it an ugly monstrosity was certainly not unjustified, in the angel's honest opinion. The gun looked like something out of a really bad science-fiction movie; replete with outer tubings and multiple nozzle settings, and Aziraphale was sure that the thing may well have once been brightly colored before Crowley laid eyes on it. If it weren't for the sheer gravity of their situation, the angel would have found the notion of using the thing as quite funny actually. But then this was from Crowley; a demon who took out another demon of higher position with just a door and a bucket.
He hefted it to his left, and began pumping the pressure tank, remembering that, as Crowley constantly reminded him; for maximum range, he has to make sure that the pressure, too, is at maximum. Aziraphale swallowed, and tried to concentrate even as his hands began to shake; it took about 60 or so pumps to fully pressurize the gun, and he had just begun to realize that they may not have that much time.
*
The green eyes were glassy, and the demon could just make out a pair of beings in the reflection in those moist irises. Hastur knit his brows together, suddenly unsure.
Wait.
Was that another human next to the snake?!
*
Aziraphale glanced at Crowley once, then realized with a sudden horror that someone else was looking at them now. He felt his body begin to move in its own terrified accord; his arms slowed down as his blood seemed to have turned itself into ice.
Aziraphale looked up to see Hastur staring back.
1 Super Soaker Monster XL was manufactured and released by Hasbro in 2001 - 2003. A Cylindrical CPS type watergun, with a whopping reservoir capacity of 3500ml, the Monster XL is the weapon of choice of discerning supersoaker afficianadoes. Its level and angled range output is nearly unmatched, and, when coupled with its multi-nozzle settings, almost becomes the perfect weapon for a demon looking to annihilate another demon. Its only setback was the long 'loading' time - and the rather garish colors its manufacturers deemed to give it. Of course, such a thing never stopped a demon, and by the time it was delivered to his doorstep, Crowley's Monster XL (and the recommended sidearm for such a weapon) was a very acceptable shade of matte black.
