An encounter with Anathema and Newton has further opened Aziraphale's eyes to the human condition, that is to say certain aspects of corporeal experience. Ahem. He had asked Crowley a few pointed questions about it, and learned a bit more about his demonic friend in the process...

But alas, their convo was interrupted. They shall indeed revisit that topic though! :-D

Enjoy!

GREAT REVELATIONS AND BURNING QUESTIONS

Anathema Device was an intense person. She had had no choice but to be so, given her family's legacy and burden. Crowley had noticed this before, but Aziraphale had merely found her scrupulously charming. Or charmingly scrupulous, or both.

Newton Pulsifer went to the bar, as she slid into the chair beside Aziraphale. Without even saying hello, she asked them, intensely, "What's going on? Did it not take?"

"Did what not take what?" asked Crowley.

"The apocalypse. Averting it. Did it not take?"

"Oh, no," Aziraphale said, easily, trying to reassure her. "The apocalypse is still well and truly averted, don't worry. No, we're here for a different reason."

"Well, what is it?"

"We were visited this morning by the Archangel Gabriel," said Aziraphale. "He's put me to a task, even though I don't really work for that side anymore."

"You mean you're…" she asked, pointing at Crowley, and looking at Aziraphale incredulously.

"A demon? No," said the angel. "I'm still an angel, but I'm not on heaven's payroll any longer."

"Wow," she said, sitting back in her chair. "There's a sentence I never thought I'd hear said in earnest."

"As it happens, I'm not on hell's either," Crowley said. "Not that you asked."

"Anyway," Aziraphale continued. "Gabriel informed us that the Almighty suspects that your great, great, great… your ancestor, Agnes Nutter, may have written a second volume. What do they call that these days? A sequel?"

"Oh," Anathema said, uneasily. "Yes, she did."

"She did?" Aziraphale asked, eyes wide, voice wispy, fascination obvious. "That's extraordinary! Why didn't I know about it?"

"More to the point," Crowley interrupted. "Why didn't the Almighty know about it?"

"Well, that I can't answer," Anathema said to Crowley. Then she turned back to Aziraphale. "But you probably didn't know about it because it was never published."

"Really!" Aziraphale exclaimed with the same delighted smile.

"Really what?" Newt asked, setting a beer and a cup of chamomile tea on the table, taking the former for himself, and the seat beside Crowley.

"Really, Agnes' second book was never published," Anathema told him, bringing him up-to-date. "He says God is looking for it."

"She understandably wants to know what's in it," Aziraphale said. "Given what happened, you know… out there. Two weeks ago. An unmitigated disaster from Her point of view, you understand."

"Her point of view?" Newt asked.

"Er, yes," Aziraphale said. "She's a she. Common misconception. Actually, she doesn't mind the misconception – she thinks it gives her an edge."

"Why are you here looking for it, if you're not on Her payroll any longer?" Anathema wanted to know.

"An excellent, excellent question, my girl!" Crowley practically shouted, then clinked his glass against Anathema's teacup and took a sip. "Excellent."

Aziraphale ignored his companion and said, "Gabriel came to me because I'm rather better-versed in the original volume than anyone in heaven, and also, I'm… well…"

"Book Dude," Crowley finished.

"Would you stop saying that? I find it vulgar," Aziraphale whispered. Then, to Anathema, he admitted, "But… it's not untrue. I've spent thousands of years chasing tomes across the globe, and I've never failed myself. Thanks, in part, to you. I'm afraid my reputation in heaven, and elsewhere, is as… Book Dude."

"There are worse reputations to have," Newt offered. "I'm the guy who breaks stuff."

Aziraphale continued, "I still believe in the basic goodness of the Almighty, and in Her wisdom – though I clearly don't find it infallible, and if I were Her, I would definitely have hired a cleverer inner-circle, but that's neither here nor there. Anyhow, if She says it needs to be found, it needs to be found. Even if it means bad things for me."

Crowley made an exasperated, "Pfffff," noise, in response.

"But I also think it's an errand demanded by posterity," the angel went on. "In all of human history, there has been exactly one accurate book of prophecy, and its predictions ended two weeks ago. And now we're told, the author wrote another! Even if another Armageddon is not in the cards, it would be a disgrace to Mistress Nutter and her considerable talents if the rest of what she knew went unknown."

Anathema and Newt looked at each other meaningfully.

"You tell them, I can't do it," she said to him.

"I can't either!" he protested.

"Tell us what?" Crowley asked, leaning on his forearms now, very interested.

"It's your fault," she said, still to her sudden, and still very surprised, boyfriend. "You're the one who talked me into doing it!"

"Doing what?" Aziraphale asked, beginning to get nervous. He put on his tight smile, the sort he wore when he knew something messed-up was coming, but he wasn't sure yet how else to handle it. "What's this about? You've confirmed the existence of the volume. Are you saying you know its whereabouts? That you've put it in a safety-deposit box, and you wear the key around your neck?"

"You wanted to do it! I just gave you a push!" Newt pointed out to Anathema.

"Oh, is this about… something else?" Aziraphale asked, now looking at Crowley for help.

"No, this is about the book," the demon said. "One of you needs to tell us what's become of Agnes' second book, or so help me, I will banish you both to an eternity in rural Tunisia, without a camel. Now, stop mucking us about, and talk!"

"She burned it," Newt said simply, pointing a finger, literally, at Anathema.

"He made me!" Anathema retorted.

"You… burned it?" Aziraphale asked, his voice wispy now for a different reason.

"Yes," Anathema said. Then she sighed. "I'm being unfair. Newt didn't make me burn it. He's right – I wanted to burn it. I knew I needed to, for my own sanity. He just gave me permission. He confirmed that it was the right thing for me."

"But that means it's lost," Aziraphale said. "Oh, dear. All of that wisdom, all of that future…"

His face melted into an expression that gave Crowley a strong pang, a bit of a punch to the gut. He'd seen that look on his friend's face before. Thus far, it was a look of pain and loss and despair only reserved for books.

"We're sorry," Newt said lamely.

Crowley sat up straight. "Are you certain you burned it?"

"Of course I'm certain," Anathema snapped. "You think I don't know when I've set an important historical document on fire in a field?"

"What field? Crowley asked.

"The one across from my house," she said. "It's a common area that connects about a dozen houses and their gardens. Why?"

"When did you do it?"

"Sunday," she told him, looking at him suspiciously. "You know… two weeks ago. The day after. Why?"

"What time?"

"I don't know! Before lunch! And I'm going to ask you why one more time, and this time, you're going to tell me why!"

"Come on, angel, we've got to go," Crowley said, standing up and heading for the door.

"Oh, erm… I guess we're going?" Aziraphale said to the other two at the table. "Lovely to see you again."

With that, he followed the demon out the door, leaving Anathema and Newt to gape after them."

Back in the Bentley, Crowley was doing his usual thing, though somewhat more carefully, for Aziraphale's sake.

"Crowley, you're headed in the wrong direction. You're going west – London is east of here."

"Let me ask you something," Crowley said, seemingly fuming. "And be honest, okay? Can you do that? Be totally honest with me?"

"Yes, I think I can."

"Because if I'm going to go any further with this Nutter business, I'm going to need some reassurance from you."

"How can we go any further?" Aziraphale wondered. "The book is gone."

"Just… go with me on this."

"All right, then, what is it you need to know?"

"Tell me the first answer that comes to mind – don't even think about it, okay?"

"I'll try."

"Why was it so important that we find that book?"

Aziraphale paused, with his hands tightly in his lap. Crowley could hear the in-and-out breath, and glanced over to see that terribly pained expression cross his features once again.

"Because it contains the only information that is to be had, about the world, and time, the convergence of events, war, peace, and ineffable, as of now," Aziraphale said, sounding as though he might burst from emotion. "Not to mention the utter extraordinariness of Mistress Nutter herself! What a talented, insightful, generous woman! History and posterity and human knowledge are truly incomplete, now her volume is lost."

"So the primary reason you wanted to find it was a bunch of squishy Aziraphalian reasons."

"Aziraphalian?"

"Yeah, it's a thing. It's a word I made up. An adjective, in fact. Answer the question."

"My reasons are primarily… erm, Aziraphalian, as opposed to…"

"…doing it for Gabriel, or for God, or to get your job back, or some bullshit like that? You're allowing yourself to be cowed and mocked and threatened by a fucking Archangel who tried to burn you with hellfire, who is clueless about the actual world, and about you, because in your heart, in your gut, you feel it's right?"

"Yes."

"You desperately would have loved to find that book."

"Yes!"

"All right then. I have something to tell you, Aziraphale."

Okay, everyone... what are your thoughts? Drop me a line! And thanks thanks thanks for taking the time to read!