Crowley looked around himself and stroked the small Bentley he took to wearing on a chain on his neck. A bookshop. Their bookshop.
The serpent smiled. It was perfect.
Several months ago they took a long journey to America on one of those big boats - or were those ships? Oh nevermind, one of those big... floaty... thingies. Not only it was easier to travel like that with Atouille and their not-so-legal documentation, but they also greatly disliked travelling by plane - it was probably caused by being in the air but not with their wings. During the day they spent the sea journey by lazing around (mainly Crowley), sampling the big floaty thingy's cuisine (mainly Aziraphale) and organizing the local rat population (mainly Atouille). During the night when everything was quiet the duo spread their wings and flew around, circling the ship and each other and having fun, as angels used to before the Fall.
They headed to New York, the place with the biggest concentration of those supernatural humans, aliens and other wondrous beings. Some of them called themselves 'gods'.
Crowley wondered about the gods in this reality. Apparently, the nordic gods truly existed here - well, the Internet said that they were actually aliens that travelled to Earth a long time ago and portrayed themselves as gods - but still. Because of Crowley's mischievous nature, he was quite interested in meeting Loki, the local 'bad boy', who seemed to do his best to annoy the 'heros'.
("Crowley, dear, please don't teach the local godling your tricks."
"But I've already made my PowerPoint presentation on The Proper Use of Glue!"
"I'm aware," sighed Aziraphale, "Atouille and his new gang have already starting causing troubles after your first lecture."
Crowley did his best not to look proud. He was not very successful in it.)
The serpent was pretty sure that while their original dimension had the legends about nordic gods, it had no aliens - She considered creating them but then scraped the idea.
But here? Here aliens existed and apparently considered Earth as a nice place to have battles on or resolve their family issues (and by what he read, those two Asgaridan brothers had biiig family issues). Seriously, what was it with supernatural entities and taking their drama to Earth?
But he was not worried about the Asgardian godlings - they would surely only need a strict and disappointed talk from Aziraphale to set them straight. But what about those other aliens that after the first invasion seemed to often invade Earth and battle the Avengers?
Hmm.
Well, Crowley perhaps now couldn't do as much as he used to do with his miracles but if any of those alien guys tried to invade their new bookshop he would show them who Anthony J. Crowley was.
A big snake that could swallow a horse.
Whenever he voiced such though Aziraphale patted him and assured him with a smile that he is glad that the bookshop has such a protector.
Yeah, Crowley sighed remembering, that in fact it would be his angel who would teach such interlopers a lesson.
But Crowley would be there as well! (And ff his angel didn't need help then at least to laugh at the morons who dared to invade their new home and to take embarrassing photos and post them all over the internet.)
Crowley stopped dreaming about this glorious invader-arse-kicking and looked at his watch. It has been twenty minutes since Aziraphale went to visit one of their neighbours, Mrs. Allegretti - called by the neighbours as Mamma Alegretti, to ask about her Ravioli recipes.
And since he wasn't back yet it could only mean one thing, Mamma Alegretti closed her café for now and started teaching his angel one of her incredibly secret family recipes. Again.
Crowley didn't understood how or why, but the fact was that whenever they moved house in their original dimensions, both him and Aziraphale were immediately adopted by local grandmas who insisted on feeding them (enjoying how much Aziraphale appreciated their gifts of food and grumbling about how Crowley was thin and needed to eat more). This dimension was no different. As soon as they moved in and started preparing their bookshop Angel & Serpent, the local grandmas zoomed in on them like an eagle on prey. Aziraphale was of course very happy about having new friends and Crowley was... resigned. As usual.
Well, all in all, it was probably a good thing because since they could not use their angelic and demonic energies, they also could not feed from them and so needed to eat normal food as ordinary humans - though in larger quantities since their bodies needed more energy to burn.
Grandmas were of course ecstatic about this fact.
Crowley sighed, though not unhappily, and looked around at their bookshop - they opened only two days ago, spending months searching for the right building, buying it and rebuilding it to be perfect.
At the beginning they were not sure about opening a bookshop - after all, since they now needed to earn actual money (and not to have it just a place to store books) - it would mean to sell the books.
("I know, dear."
"Do you? Do you truly understand, angel? People will take the book and leave the shop with it."
"Oh please, of course I understand. I was a bookseller for more than two hundred years."
"Hmm. Book… something. Bookkeeper, bookhoarder, book-leave-that-book-on-the-shelf-or-I-shall-smite-you-you-fiend."
"You exaggerate."
"I heard you say that exact sentence to a customer, Aziraphale."
"Uhm, well..."
"Have you actually sold more than ten books in those two hundred years?"
"Of course I did!"
"Truly?"
"... maybe."
"..."
"But really, I understand. So I propose to have a part of the store for customers and another in which we will live with my - I mean, our - books."
"That customer part will be really small, am I right? Like, half a shelf. Near the door."
Aziraphale rolled his eyes, "You're being silly again, my dear."
"Am not."
"Are to-," Aziraphale stopped himself before going into an 'am-not-are-too' game. Again. "I imagine it similarly as my previous bookshop, dear. But now there will only be books for customers downstairs. Upstairs there will be our flat with the not-to-sell books."
"Very well, angel. But you will handle the customers and I will handle marketing, social media and online orders, okay? You know that I am not as patient with people as you. You don't want me hiss at them. Or to bite some morons."
"Of course, dear, I won't let those horrible horrible people near you," chuckled Aziraphale and booped his nose (Crowley sighed).)
The demon hoped that it would truly be the case - or at least with their first customers, because it would be those customers who could post on the internet reviews about the bookshop and make an impact, good or bad.
But it was only Crowley who was present in the bookshop when their true first customer entered (a person that was not one of the curious neighbours or grandmas bringing more food and commenting about enlarging the section about knitting).
Yep, only him.
Of course.
Tony Stark was quite looking forward to Mamma Alegretti's cooking. He did his best to visit her café every week. It was in Queens and the shop didn't do deliveries, but the trips were certainly worth it (if he was honest, even if Mamma Algretti moved to Sicilly, the trips there would be worth it - the deliciousness that were her meals.)
So he of course sighed when he came to the door of the café and saw the sign that it was temporarily closed.
That used to happen, Mamma Alegretti was quite unpredictable. But looking inside the café he found out that it had been opened today, so she was probably on one of her errands.
He decided he would wait - Tony Stark will eat Mamma Allegretti's meal today!
So what to - oh was that new shop finally open?
A week ago it was still under construction and it wasn't clear what it was going to be. But yes, it was open now and it seemed that it was to be a… bookshop? It was called Angel&Serpent.
Tony sighed. He preferred to consume books in a way that would allow him to multitask, such as audiobooks, but perhaps he could try to pick a book for Steve (who looked at him as at a heathen when he suggested that the soldier could use a StarkPad for reading), since Capsicle's birthday was coming up.
The billionaire in his AC/DC T-shirt, jeans and dark glasses entered the Angel&Serpent bookshop. There he found a redhead in a tight (really tight) pair of black jeans, black shirt with a red hem, a chain with a small car on his neck and also wearing dark glasses.
Tony Stark raised an eyebrow.
The gothic bookseller raised his as well.
They were staring at each other for a good minute with this eyebrow standoff.
Finally, the inventor said, "Are you the 'angel'?"
"Nope, I'm the serpent," the redhead gave him a sharp smile. "The angel is learning how to make ravioli next door."
The genius quickly put two and two together, "What?! You can't be serious! Mamma Allegretti wouldn't sell her great-grandmother's recipe for a million dollars!" (He knew, he tried.)
The redhead now gave him a proud and much softer smile, "No one can resist my angel's sad puppy dog eyes."
"Any chance he would share the recipe?"
"No. He surely gave her a promise not to tell anyone and my angel is an angel of his word."
"Right," sighed Tony.
"But if you buy a book, I can invite you to taste one of his attempts to cook the ravioli - he will surely practice a lot to get it perfect."
Tony Stark didn't get where he was by not being a savvy businessman, "You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Serpent."
The redhead preened as if selling his first book - which could be true since they just opened - and nodded, "Anthony J. Crowley, I prefer Crowley."
Tony nodded as well, "Crowley."
Crowley stared at him a moment, "You're supposed to say your name as well."
"You don't know who I am?" the inventor was surprised - while he sometimes met a person who didn't recognize him, he never met one in New York.
Crowley peered at him as if trying to assess him, "A… singer?"
Tony sincerely laughed and offered his hand, "I'm… Anthony as well. But I prefer Tony."
Crowley shook his hand, "Tony. Come tomorrow at six, for the ravioli tasting. Now which book do you want?"
Tony smiled and looked around. What could Steve want? Hmm, the soldier did read a lot of books about history to learn about what he had missed.
"Where do you have a history and war sections?"
"History is right by that window, but we have no war section, me and the angel are not fond of war," said Crowley.
Huh, quite an interesting pair, thought Tony: one goth and one puppy dog eyes wielding hippies. He was looking forward to the dinner already, and not only because of the ravioli.
Before he could start exploring a quick movement caught his eyes, "Uhm, is that rat? No, scratch that question. Is that a rat with a tartan bow tie?"
"Oh yeah, that's Atouille. Unfortunately the angel persuaded him that tartan is stylish."
Tony blinked. "Rat Atouille?"
"Yup."
Tony laughed. The bookseller might be a little peculiar but he had an excellent sense of humour. Atouille waved at him and then scurried to do whatever rats with bow ties do in these days.
The Avenger started examining the shelfs (oh, that was quite a big knitting section) and then stopped in front of the one full of books with colourful covers. Suddenly it was as if he was back at MIT and met his new roommate James Rhodes who unpacked a lot of these and put them on the shelf in their room. His Rhodey also lent them to Tony and Tony enjoyed them a great deal.
The inventor touched the spine of one of the books. One can never forget Terry Pratchett, can they?
"A great choice," a voice hissed near his left shoulder startling Tony.
"Jesus, you need a bell on you!"
The bookseller grinned obviously pleased with himself. Yes, it is going to be an interesting dinner.
"I read a couple of them but it's a long time," said Tony. "I need a gift for a friend. Which one would you recommend for a soldier?"
"Hmm," Crowley's frowned with determination, "try the Guards! Guards!"
"Excellent," said Tony and pulled the book from the shelf. "And which one would you recommend to someone who knows a bit of Pratchett but would want to start properly?"
Crowley smiled, "If you wait for my angel, he will make you a lecture on the topic for at least an hour."
"Sorry, as soon as your angel returns, I'm going to Mamma Alegretti, so what would you recommend?"
The redhead scratched his head as if confused about how a bookshop visitor can require advice on books. "I supposed," he said finally, "if you want to read them by the publication date - though some people think the first is not his best work but screw them - then start with The Colour of Magic, if you want to start stories about Death and his progeny then start with Mort, if you like witches then Weird Sisters, for mystery and policemen the Guards! Guards!, a brilliant standalone is for example Small Gods, and for a conman forced to use his skills for the good of a city choose Going Postal." Crowley stopped and then looked a little bit embarrassed as if not used to divulge that he knew so much about books.
"Thanks," said Tony and, because he was not a minimalist, picked all of the mentioned books.
Crowley slowly blinked (probably, Tony couldn't be sure because of the dark glasses), and then watched as Tony carried the stack of books to the counter.
"Right," said the surprised bookseller and started looking how much the books were.
Tony pulled two hundred and with a cheeky grin put them on the counter, "Thanks, keep the change."
"That is certainly too mu-"
The doorbell chimed and a happy voice said, "My dear, oh it was glorious, the Alegretti family are truly genius, I can't wait to try it!"
Tony looked at the newcomer who was… certainly not what he had expected. He looked back at his new goth, lanky friend with a sharp smile and tight modern clothes, and then again at the soft, cheerful blonde wearing something even older than Steve.
"Oooh, a customer!" exclaimed Crowley's 'angel' happily. "Welcome to Angel&Serpent! Are you looking for something particular?"
"Your… serpent already helped me," said Tony and gestured at the stack of books on the counter.
The blond's mouth made a little 'o' in surprise and then he beamed even more than before if that was even possible, "Splendid! I knew you're going to be great, my dear!"
"Ngk."
Tony wondered if he should just leave and let Crowley to tell his angel that they will have a guest tomorrow evening, but the redhead now was completely silent, blushing a little bit under the blonde's adoring gaze. So Tony put the stack of books under his arm and then offered his free hand to the blond, "Hi, I'm Tony, Crowley invited me for dinner tomorrow evening to try your ravioli, I hope that is alright?"
"Oh, very nice to meet you Tony! I'm Aziraphale. And of course, that will be lovely, very looking forward to meeting you properly," smiled the blond as a little ray of sunshine (had a feeling that Crowley agrees with his assessment though his look was also saying: 'My ray of sunshine').
"Great, got to go! Thanks!" said the inventor and quickly walked out of the shop - Mamma Alegretti's cooking was waiting for him.
Aziraphale happily hummed 'Spread A Little Happiness' as he started preparing the ravioli and wiggled merrily into the rhythm.
They had to do a little cleaning before Tony's visit (much less fun without miracles) hiding all the satanic texts that were laying around (they were quite interested what the local satanic grimoires were like, and if they perhaps held answers about this dimension) - it wouldn't probably make a good impression on their guest, or it would at least lead to some questions that they weren't very keen on answering.
They also had to unlock the stairs passage between the downstairs and the first floor - their bookshop was similar to the one Aziraphale had in London and there was a big opening under the glass that led to the first floor. So potentially, if one had wings they could just fly up there instead of taking the stairs.
The passage was usually locked. Only unlocked for one of the - as Crowley called them - grandma invasions.
Aziraphale dreamily sighed, he joined the grandma's Thursday's knitting club and started working on a scarf for his demon (black and red of course), he could picture his Crowley in it already!
He smiled as he heard Crowley, who was on their computer ordering more books, muttering something about the deliveries and idiots.
The angel was very proud of his serpent for making a new friend and inviting him to dinner - the demon of course protested that it was only a cunning transaction for the guy to buy a book - but Aziraphale knew his ex-hereditary-enemy well. Crowley liked Tony and it would do the demon well to speak with someone else than neighbours who were still kind of trying to figure out their relationship without asking directly and grandmas who kept mumbling about Crowley's scrawny figure and laddening him with food (well, Aziraphale didn't mind that part).
He got so focused on the ravioli that he only noticed Tony's arrival when their guest was already being led to the kitchen by Crowley, holding the wine he brought, oh excellent!
After they said hello to each other Tony zoomed in on their computer examining what it was, and expressing how they could upgrade it. Aziraphale rolled his eyes.
"Don't mind him," he heard Crowley say, "up until recently he had an Amstrad PCW 8256."
"What? Seriously?" Tony exclaimed.
"It was a perfectly functioning machine," Aziraphale frowned.
"And now I'm afraid to ask what did you have as a phone, Aziraphale."
"A landline rotary phone, of course."
"Of course," Tony deadpanned and Crowley snickered and whispered that Aziraphale still didn't get a new phone and was insisting that they get a landline into the bookshop.
Their guest dramatically held his chest - actually was that chest a little blue somewhat? - and turned to the demon, "Please tell me that at least you have a StarkPhone."
"Oh yeah, I heard that they are the best."
"They are the best," Tony nodded smiling .
The dinner was very nice. To Aziraphale Tony described and recommended several in the restaurants in New York and with Crowley talked about modern technology - the demon was listening with rapt attention. Tony asked about them and they talked very shortly and vaguely about their history and quickly changed the topic to their bookshop and their plans with it, but their new friend didn't seem bothered by it.
"Is your bookshop on the Internet?" asked Tony.
"Oh, yes. Dear, tell him about the bird thing,"
"Twitter, for Satan's sake, Aziraphale," Crowley fondly sighed and showed their page to Tony:
[see: cutt*DOT*ly/Oj06hWX (replace *DOT* with a dot)
[description: A twitter page of the AngelAndSerpent account. It's logo it Aziraphale's silhouette with a halo, the halo is a snake biting its tail.]
Their new friend blinked and looked at their logo, "Is that Aziraphale's silhouette with an ouroboros as a halo?"
"Oh yes, Angel and Serpent, me and Crowley," said Aziraphaled and tapped his nose with a wink.
"I… see," said Tony and then smiled, "well I'm going to tweet about your shop, so prepare for tomorrow's queues outside the shop," the man's eyes twinkled with mirth.
"Oooh, thank you! Crowley said that we need more recommendations on this… social median!" said Aziraphale and heard Crowley mutter 'social media, angel'. (Actually, his serpent already started preparing to make a lot of fake profiles so they could 'trend', whatever it meant, but Aziraphale said that they should wait if it doesn't come naturally).
When they were saying goodbyes and Tony thanked them for dinner, Aziraphale invited Tony to come again in a fortnight (that would give him a little time to perfect the ravioli a little more) and Tony happily accepted.
"What a nice man," said Aziraphale as he later that night got to bed in his tartan pyjamas and cuddled Crowley.
"Mm-yeah," said Crowley and yawned.
"Hopefully we get a good night of sleep and will be fresh for that tomorrow's queue."
"There won't be a queue, angel."
"Have faith, dear."
"Trust me, angel, no queue tomorrow."
"But-"
"If there's a queue tomorrow, I'll start wearing that tartan pyjamas you got me."
"Oh, splendid!"
They woke up to a big crowd outside wanting to be let in and explore 'the store that Tony Stark shops in'.
Aziraphale quickly and happily changed and went to open the bookshop.
Crowley frowned and checked their twitter, the notifications blown up to the roof. He went about finding the source and raised both his eyebrows.
He found the number that Tony gave him yesterday and texted it. The answer came immediately:
[see: cutt*DOT*ly/ij06bOS (replace *DOT* with a dot)
[description: Mobile screen. Crowley message to Tony is: '... Tony STARK?'. Tony's answer: ';) ;) ;)'.]
The demon stared at the screen assessing the situation. So, on one hand he made friends with a billionaire who just made their bookshop a success, on the other hand… tartan pyjamas!