If you'll recall, when last we saw our ineffable heroes, Crowley had allowed Aziraphale to drive his car, and Aziraphale had asked Crowley to man the book shop. They're also leaning into one another's favorite "creature comforts" as it were, so even more than before, the line between angel and demon is becoming truly thin. Heh.

Anyway, Crowley has gone downstairs to find out who's come into the book shop... enjoy!

GABRIEL AND THE GREATER GOOD

"Gabriel," Crowley said, drawing out the syllables. He was addressing the stiff-looking man in the light blue suit, now standing in the centre of Aziraphale's book shop.

"Crowley," Gabriel said, crisply. "What are you doing here?"

"Me? Oh, I just popped in for a Big Mac and a cappuccino."

Gabriel cleared his throat, and said, "As you like."

Crowley smiled. "Oh, come on. Don't act like you're all surprised and scandalised."

Gabriel smiled back, totally mirthlessly, and his shocking blue eyes seemed to gleam with anger. "I suppose I'm not."

"But I have to admit, I'm a bit nonplussed to see you," Crowley said. "Aren't you the one who told Aziraphale to, what was it? Shut his stupid mouth, and die already?"

"Ah, he told you about our little debacle."

"Of course he did."

"I did say that, yes," Gabriel admitted, with a smirk.

"Not very archangelic of you."

"I will not apologise for doing the Almighty's will," Gabriel spat. "Come to think of it, I don't converse with demons, so just tell me where your friend is, because the sooner I can speak to him, the sooner I can get the heaven out of here."

"And come to think of it, I don't converse with bigots, so I suppose it's all for the best. Aziraphale is upstairs, trying to find candles so he can contact you lot," Crowley told him. "He felt you calling. He'll be along in a mo'."

Gabriel gave a terse smile, and then pretended to look about the book shop. Crowley made absolutely no show of trying to mitigate the awkwardness, and actually just stood, grinning at the archangel, watching him browse.

"Gabriel," Aziraphale's voice sang a couple of minutes later, as he reached the bottom of the stairs, and saw who the visitor was.

"Aziraphale," Gabriel said, again, rather crisply.

"Well, fancy seeing you…"

"I've come on official business, I don't have time to chat."

"Erm… all right. But I'm rather surprised to see you. I didn't think I was still on the payroll, as it were."

"Oh, you're not. You're still on the Almighty's shit list, but we have a task that needs doing, and She is, after all, a benevolent being," Gabriel told him, bitterly.

"The Almighty has a shit list?" Crowley asked.

"A fairly long one, as you well know, Crowley," said Gabriel.

"Are archangels even allowed to say things like shit list?" the demon wondered aloud.

"Can you get rid of him?" Gabriel asked Aziraphale. "This is official business, and it might not be the worst idea in the world if one of hell's minions didn't hear every word we said."

Aziraphale cleared his throat, and straightened his jacket. "I'm sorry Gabriel. Whatever you say to me, you can say to Crowley."

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up, and he looked at Crowley, who smiled and waved. "Oh really, now?" he said. "What are you, an old married couple? You know what… don't bother answering."

"I..." Aziraphale began.

Gabriel ploughed right through. "Look, I would never speak for the Almighty unless She asked me to, so you can believe me when I say, this might be a good way to begin getting back in Her good graces. Need I remind you that you are, for all intents and purposes, a fallen angel? It's basically because of some clerical confusion that you weren't completely cast out and flung under the boot of Satan."

Aziraphale looked at Gabriel impassively. "You can't intimidate me, Gabriel. Not anymore. Fix the confusion. Tell Her everything. Have me cast out. Make me a demon, if you must."

Crowley burst out laughing, rather proud of his friend.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Gabriel snarled.

"I can think of worse things," Aziraphale lilted calmly, not unconscious of the fact that Gabriel believed there was a chance that Aziraphale was already halfway to demonhood anyhow, given how badly awry heaven's little 'hellfire' revenge had gone. "Now, did you come to threaten me, or did you come on an errand for the Almighty? Are you going to actually try to do your job, or just stand there betraying your bitterness?"

Crowley beamed inside, and relished watching Gabriel fume.

The archangel took a few moments to gather himself, and said, "We have reason to believe that Agnes Nutter may have written another book of prophecy – a second installment, if you will. We need you to track it down."

Aziraphale was utterly stunned. He took a few steps toward Gabriel, and asked, "Another book of prophecy? How do you know?"

"How do we know anything? We're heaven. We've literally got God on our side," Gabriel told him. "Which is why, we need to know what's in that book. Given the accuracy of the original volume and how all that turned out, the Almighty is very keen to make sure that no other miscalculations occur, and that the very best personnel are put on the case, should the need arise."

"Okay, okay, so, let's get our heads round this," Crowley cut in. "Two weeks ago, you tried to burn him in literal fire from the pits of deepest hell, and today you want him to help you?"

"That's right," said Gabriel.

"And you're presenting this as a way for Aziraphale to get back in, with your boss."

"Partly."

"And it has nothing to do with the fact that he's the only angel who's lived on Earth for all six thousand years, and therefore is the only one with any sense of what it would take to track down that book, and that he's clearly, well… Book Dude."

"We admit, Aziraphale has certain…"

"Oh, you've got a lot of nerve, Archangel Fucking Gabriel!" Crowley laughed. "You can't do it yourself because you don't have the mad skillz that my friend here has, so you're going to threaten him, use him to get hold of the book, and then use the book to find out, among other things, if and when you lot should try again to obliterate him!"

"It's all right Crowley, I'll do it," said Aziraphale rather quietly.

"What?" the demon asked, totally incredulous. "Are you mad?"

"No, I'm not," Aziraphale said. "I don't like the idea of helping Gabriel any more than you do, but the fact is, not it's not Gabriel asking, it's the Almighty. And I don't fancy disappointing Her again, but even more importantly, if She wants it found, it's most probably for the greater good."

"So you're just going to do it? Go on an insane hunt for some book that may or may not exist, and then hand it over to Frankenstein's Monster here?" Crowley asked Aziraphale, gesturing toward Gabriel.

"Yes," said the angel. "Because one way or the other, I would think that the volume needs locating. Be it for Her purposes, or ours, or someone else's. Imagine if it fell into the wrong hands."

"Speaking of the wrong hands, Aziraphale," Gabriel said. "You are not to peek at the prophecies once the text is found. That is for the eyes of Higher-Ups only."

"Quite," said Aziraphale. "How very sensible. Wouldn't want to show any trust in the one who's doing the difficult bits, would we?"

"Nope," Gabriel said, with finality.

"You're a right git, you know that?" Crowley grumbled at Gabriel.

"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment," Gabriel said, turning for the door. "I'll be in touch in a few days to see how things are going."

"Make no mistake, Gabriel," Aziraphale said, quite seriously, toning down his usual upright dandy mannerism, for the time being. "I'm doing this for the greater good. I'm not doing it so that I can come back into the fold. I've no need of the fold."

Gabriel nodded, surprisingly amiably, then said, "Well, then, we'll just call this an independent contracting arrangement. Hopefully, some good will come of it for everyone involved. Maybe even Crowley. Good day, gentlemen."

With that, the Archangel Gabriel walked out of the book store, and shut the door behind him.

"Oh, come on!" Crowley growled once Gabriel was out the door, twisting his whole, thin body. "You're really going to do this?"

"It appears as though I am."

"You might be writing your own death warrant, or prison sentence, or worse," said Crowley.

"I know, but it's the right thing to do. If Agnes Nutter's written a second book, it would be a crime against posterity not to know its whereabouts. And who better to keep it safe than God Herself?"

"This is mental."

"One good thing about all this, it'll get me out of your hair for a while," Aziraphale said curtly, not really making eye-contact.

"Oh, the heaven it will," Crowley argued. "I'm not letting you do this alone."

"You aren't?"

"No! Seriously? You think I'd let you go out and do an errand for that prat, without keeping an eye on you? It could be a test! A trap! It could be dangerous, even if it isn't a trap. We have no idea where this book is – what if it's locked in a vault in the Tower of London or something, along with the crown jewels? Someone's going to have to hold your hand so you don't get your arse kicked by the Queen's Guard."

"Crowley, you're being ridiculous. I can just miracle…"

"But you won't," the demon interrupted. "I know you too well. You'll get into a jam, you'll get all proper and jumpy and dodgy, and wind up in some kind of terrorism containment facility, and I'll have to get you out, and then wind up on a list, and I'll have to change my name…"

"Oh, honestly," the angel complained.

"Say what you like," Crowley said, shaking his head. "I'm coming with you."

And Aziraphale made no more protestations. Heaven knows why.

Hey, everyone, thanks for reading!

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