Aziraphale couldn't bring himself to leave the building, so he sank down onto one of the benches outside Morningstar's classroom, listening to the indistinct hum of voices floating from the other side. He'd wait for class to let out, wait for Gabriel to show, and hope that he could talk to him. The sooner he dealt with Gabriel - the sooner he showed him how serious he could be - the better, as far as Aziraphale was concerned.

So, when the door swung open again and someone said "Oi, Aziraphale!" amidst the sound of creaking hinges whining ominously, Aziraphale shot to his feet, expecting to see Gabriel standing there.

He did not expect to see Crowley standing there instead, looking backwards into the classroom slightly surreptitiously as though he shouldn't technically be there before allowing the door to fall closed. Part of Aziraphale wanted to sit back down, to stop conversation with the TA before it could begin - after all, he read enough into the conversation he eavesdropped to know that there's some animosity between him and Gabriel, so the last thing he needed was to be seen with an enemy of his true love - but he couldn't very well be rude, so he remained standing.

Crowley smiled a little awkwardly as he crossed the distance between the door and the bench, heels clicking against the floor in the silence before coming to a stop in front of Aziraphale. "Hey, I, uh… I just wanted to let you know that I was kicked out of class once first year, too…"

Aziraphale couldn't help interrupting. A small, whispered part of his conscience reminded him that he has no clue what the conflict between Crowley and Gabriel even was, that he shouldn't condemn a stranger - a TA, at that - based off something he thought he read into a conversation he wasn't even a part of, but it wasn't strong enough to stop him. "Well, of course you were. That's what you do."

Crowley rocked back slightly, face slightly stricken, but he quickly got it under control, face more shuttered even than normal. "Right, well…" He trailed off, but picked up on his old train of thought, though with a little less enthusiasm. "Anyway, I just wanted to say that it's awful, but your law career isn't over. You'll be fine if you read your reading for next class." He paused, then took an awkward step backwards. "Sorry to have bothered you."

Aziraphale couldn't help feeling a little guilty at it, so he stopped him. "Wait!" Crowley turned back, stiff and reluctant, but listening. "From which book is Morningstar assigning his readings?"

Crowley frowned. "You should have it already… it was on the list." He rifled through his papers - clutched in a case under his arm - and read his way down the list. "Uh… Syllabus says 'Agnes Nutter's prophetic work Using the Past to Tell the Future: Legal Studies.'" He dropped the paper back into the case, closing it again and setting it on the floor before looking at Aziraphale in confusion. "Didn't you get it on opening day?"

Aziraphale looked away, eyes studiously fixed to the floor as he muttered under his breath. "Igaveitaway."

Crowley looked over at him, then, eyes wide behind darkened sunglasses, mouth slightly agape as he asked, "You what?"

"I gave it away!" Aziraphale winced at saying it aloud, the instant urge to explain filling him… so he did. "He couldn't afford one! There are going to be difficult tests this year, and he's got class first thing, and I said, 'Here you go: brilliant textbook. Don't thank me, and don't get yourself late to class."

Crowley kept staring at him, surprised and amused. Eventually, he came back to himself and nodded. "Right. Well, then, you should talk to…" He paused, flipping through his papers again until he found a blank one. Then, he pulled out a pen and wrote down a name. "Talk to Anathema. She's our librarian, but she handles textbook distribution, too."

Aziraphale nodded. "Thank you."

Just as the words were out of his mouth, the door opened again, a rush of people spilling out. Among them, Aziraphale can see Michael, and he rushes forward, stopping her. "Excuse me, but why would you do that to another classmate?"

Michael looked down her nose at him. "Do what?"

Aziraphale smiled as sweetly as he could. "We law students have to stick together! We ought not make ourselves look good by making each other look bad."

Michael was full on sneering, now. "I didn't make you look bad. You weren't prepared, it's as simple as that. Open the lawbook next time."

Crowley took another step back. "I'll give you two a moment, then." Then, he was gone, door closing behind him as he sauntered back to the classroom.

Michael watched him go, frowning in distaste before she turned back and looked at Aziraphale, the same derision from earlier apparent in her gaze. "Isn't there a library somewhere, going wild without you?"

Any witty response Aziraphale might have given was cut off by the opening of the door for a third time, and, this time, he was rewarded with the somewhat awe-inspiring sight of Gabriel in all his glory. Aziraphale contemplated swooning like one of the characters in his novels, but decided against it and in favor of seizing his hand and dragging him further out into the hall. "Gabriel, thank God you're here!"

Gabriel literally dug in his heels, stopping in place and snapping his hand away. "Aziraphale…" His name in the other man's mouth was odd, taking on the sound of something unpleasant that had been forgotten and then resurfaced at the worst possible moment.

"Yes?" Had he finally realized? Learned that Aziraphale was serious?

Michael walked closer, frowning at both parties in question. "Gabriel, is there something you want to tell him?"

Aziraphale turned. How dare this… this… student interrupt their private conversation? He looked between Gabriel and Michael, a frown turning down the corners of his own mouth. "Do you know her?"

Gabriel nodded stiffly, pulling both hands behind his back. "Aziraphale… Meet Vivienne Michael." He paused, violet eyes darting to the ground once before looking back at Aziraphale. "Michael is my girlfriend."