THE OPPOSITE OF RETIREMENT

Blurb: Having moved in together after the Apocalypse, our pair takes a break from London and quickly becomes embroiled in a new conflict between Heaven and Hell.


CHAPTER 5: Shadow of Wings


Archangel Gabriel strode into the cottage bedroom as if he owned it.

"Good morning!" he greeted cheerfully and loudly, waking the two figures in the bed.

"Gabriel!" Aziraphale squeaked groggily in alarm. He tried to get up but he was currently pinned under a demon. Crowley hissed.

"No, no, don't get up on my account," the archangel said. "I've read Michael's report. Impressive battle. I came down to debrief the other demon, so it only seems fair that I talk to you while I'm here."

"What do you want?" Crowley snarled.

"I want Armageddon," the archangel retorted, "but I will take what I can get. Which is beginning to feel surprisingly close to Armageddon except on a smaller scale." Gabriel's smile was wide and gloating. "And I suppose I have you two to thank for that, but considering that you are responsible for us being in this mess, I'm going to hold my applause."

"Why are you here, Gabriel?" asked Aziraphale, feeling some dread.

"I am here to inform you of what the archangels have decided to do about your situation. Namely, that you will be provided with two angelic guards to protect the demons in case Hell tries to kill them again. As I believe you convinced Michael, the Serpent is now a symbol of rebellion against the Devil and will inspire other demons, like the Ferret down the hall, to renounce. That means fewer demons to support Hell in the final battle. And if even more demons attempt to drag those traitors back to Hell, Michael's troops stand ready to fight, which means even fewer demons survive to fight in the final battle. It's a total win for us."

Aziraphale thought back to Crowley's reaction from two nights ago: We are fucked. They were fucked indeed.

"So I'm supposed to spend the rest of eternity with an angelic shadow?" Crowley groused.

"Don't complain, demon," the archangel replied. "You were already planning to spend eternity that way." Gabriel looks pointedly at Aziraphale to make his meaning clear. "And this protection is only for as long as Heaven deems there is an imminent threat on your existence and you remain of strategic importance to us. Obviously we don't want to waste resources protecting something of no value to us. But until then, both the Serpent and the Ferret -- and any other demon that renounces -- will receive a bodyguard to protect them from the forces of Hell."

"So why do I need someone other than Aziraphale to guard me, and why doesn't he have his own protection?"

"Aziraphale shouldn't need his own protection," Gabriel said in a condescending tone. "He's still an angel. He should be smiting demons, not consorting with them. But he's grown a little soft --"

"He's not soft!" Crowley quickly contradicted.

"Demon, you were using him as a pillow when I arrived. Don't get me wrong," said Gabriel as if oversharing, "right now, the archangels see this as a numbers game. How many do we have on the side of Heaven versus the side of Hell? Having Aziraphale on our side is a positive, although not as positive as any other angel I could name. To be blunt, we don't trust him to have what it takes to defend you, not for as long as we need."

"How long will that be?" Aziraphale asked. He had grown so accustomed to the negativity and condescension over the millennia that it barely registered anymore.

Gabriel shrugged indifferently. "Time is such a human concept, I have no idea. Five days? Five decades? We'll figure it out as we go. Obviously, if more demons break free of Hell's authority, then your demon will remain important to us. The angels assigned to guard the Ferret and the Serpent will send for reinforcements at the first sign of more trouble or even if just another refugee appears, but I'm told that Michael gave you a sigil to contact her directly if needed."

The archangel wasn't exactly asking a question, but the curve of his brow prompted Aziraphale to nod in agreement.

"Excellent! Then my work here is done." Gabriel smiled beautifically at them. "And, as a show of good faith, we're miracling away all the damage and blood from the battle outside.

"Now, try to stay out of trouble, you two," he said playfully as he turned to leave. It was just a game to him, and if Crowley or Aziraphale were maimed or killed in the middle of it, he wouldn't have much to complain about.

.o8o.

The Bentley purred to a stop in front of A. Z. Fell and Co. To any human observers, there were plainly two men in the front seat and one in the back. Inside the car was a different reality.

The angelic bodyguards sat in the back seat, sandwiching Goral and still dressed in their robes and armor. It had been impossible to talk them into less noteworthy attire during the drive. Aziraphale only hoped that seeing the sheer number of people walking around the streets of London would convince the two to fit in. (He was aware of the irony of his own dated wardrobe, but at least it was all made by human hands.)

"Here we are!" he announced. "I suppose I will see everyone tomorrow."

That was what they had agreed to: Salindriphale would keep constant watch over Goral while Merciael kept guard over Crowley. And due to the wards on the shop, Aziraphale would be perfectly safe alone. Crowley had wanted to stay in Aziraphale's flat, but that meant Merciael would be there too, and Crowley wouldn't stand for that. So now the two were going to spend their first night apart since the world nearly ended. Not like they actually spent the night in the same bed or anything like that (last night excepting), but their joint presence was a comfort to them both.

"Let me get the bags for you, Angel," Crowley offered and grabbed the door handle.

Behind him, Merciael copied the movement.

He hissed at her. "Stay put," he commanded. "You'll see me clearly through the windows. No need to get out of the car and raise questions. And you can leap out in plenty of time if any demon appears." He glared at her through the rearview mirror until her hands returned to her lap. He sighed, terribly put upon, and got out of the car.

He pulled both bags out of the trunk and brought them to the door which Aziraphale was ostensibly unlocking.

Aziraphale took notice of the bags and said, "Aren't you going to need your bag for tonight?" He kept his voice down and spoke over his shoulder. It would be very difficult for anyone to overhear him.

"I hope so," replied Crowley, equally discreet. "Stay up for me."

The meaning behind the words hit Aziraphale immediately. He spun around to confront the demon. "You're not thinking of --"

Crowley cut him off with a kiss before Aziraphale could say anything. "I'll be perfectly safe, won't set a foot outside without an extra pair of wings. Good night, Angel."

With that, he got back in the car and zipped into traffic, headed to Mayfair.

"What was that?" Salindriphale asked baldly.

"The kiss?" Crowley didn't feel like being obtuse just now. "It's a human custom. We're pretending to be a human couple, and that is one thing that human couples do. You three had better be quick studies of human behavior if you expect to fit in. How to speak, how to act, how to dress, you'll need to master all of it, and sharpish. Either that or you'll need to stay invisible or out of sight your entire time here."

He then proceeded to lecture them -- the angels were now in a more receptive mood having seen more humans walking and driving in town -- on assimilating into human society until he parked his car once more.

"Alright," he said. "My flat is heavily warded. None of you will be able to get in until I fix that. You can come watch or wait in the car til I'm done."

Merciael declared that she was going with him, of course. The other two decided to tag along.

The wards took nearly a half-hour to rewrite. Crowley could have done it faster but that would have involved wiping them completely and building them back up rather than editing what he already had. And he didn't want to leave himself exposed even for a minute.

A quick miracle cleaned up all signs of the aborted renovation that provided an excuse for him to stay above the bookshop. It was strange being back after so many months. The apartment had been spartan before but at least there had been plants. Now it was otherworldly to him, and not in a good way.

Goral, on the other hand, saw it differently. "You live here?" he said with awe in his voice. "All this space? And so clean?"

With a gesture of invitation from Crowley to see the place for himself, Goral took off down the hall and through doorways, investigating the apartment. Salindriphale trailed after him warily while Merciael stood one step behind and to the right of Crowley.

He glared at her over the top of his glasses. "You don't need to hover over me in here," he said. "Inspect the wards for yourself. You'll see it's safe. Zira and I have been doing this a long time."

Merciael returned his look briefly before turning her attentions to the protections on Crowley's flat.

The demon rolled his eyes. Had the bodyguard displayed any likeable personality, he might feel bad for how he was going to give her the slip later.

"Anything to eat or drink?" he said instead, raising his voice to be heard by the other two.

Goral popped out of the spare bedroom. "Cocoa?" he said hopefully. "And biscuits?"

"Right," Crowley muttered to himself.

.o8o.

Goral was seated in front of the television, watching a program called Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. Crowley had stumbled across it once and had immediately confronted the angel who confirmed that yes, Heaven had a hand in it. He had been furious at the time and had channeled that fury into some highly diabolical children's programming, but right now, it felt like a good primer for a demon like Goral. He had miracled the screen to show that program and only that program for as long as Goral cared to watch it.

"I'm going to take a shower," Crowley told them, "and then I'm going to bed. Watch as much of the show as you like. I'll see you all in the morning."

Merciael started to protest but he wasn't having it.

"No, you may not watch me shower or watch me sleep," he said emphatically. "You've inspected the wards; you know we're safe. Staying in my flat is as close as you get."

"There is an extra ward in your bedroom," the bodyguard pointed out, "in the closet. Only you and the principality can cross it. If something happens and you go in there, I will not be able to follow."

"Yes, but it's in my bedroom, in my flat," Crowley reasoned. He tried not to sound cross and condescending, but he was a demon out of his routine. "What is going to possibly happen?"

Merciael set her mouth in a thin line but didn't speak.

"Thank you," Crowley said with a mocking bow and left them to the children's programming.

.o8o.

Aziraphale had recast the wards, unpacked his bag, read through the mail, listened to the phone messages, and dusted and swept. He had thought about dinner but decided against it. He could eat but, without Crowley for company, it wasn't satisfying.

A floorboard creaked above his head, instantly drawing his attention.

"Is anybody there?" he called out.

It could only be Crowley, using the secret passage hidden in his closet to sneak between their two flats. Still he felt the need to check. He trotted up the stairs at double his usual speed and found Crowley lounging against the doorframe of his room.

"Good evening, Angel. Did you miss me?"

Aziraphale thought the answer was obvious, and he wasn't about to give the demon satisfaction. "What are you doing here? What if you get caught?"

"I'm a demon," Crowley reminded him. "I'm supposed to break the rules and get in trouble. Besides, the idiots have no idea I'm here. As far as they know, I'm asleep in my own bed back in Mayfair."

"Well, you need to stay there," cautioned Aziraphale. "Don't set a foot in this hallway. I don't want to be responsible for putting you in danger by bringing you to Soho. As long as you stay in this room, you are still technically in Mayfair."

Of the two, Aziraphale was always the one who obeyed rules and complied with expectations, and Crowley had used that to his advantage. "I'm afraid I feel a terrible temptation to be in Soho just now," he said. "I think you'll need to thwart me to keep me here."

Aziraphale blinked and tried to speak, but it took him a while to come up with words. "Stay right there," he choked out at last. "I have a bottle I've been saving for a special occasion, and tonight is the night."


NOTES: