Please comment on this, good or bad.
I might continue this, so if you like it tell me and I'll start thinking a bit more seriously about what happens next.
Also, If you can think of how to make Aziraphale sound a little more like Aziraphale, please tell me. I think I could do a bit better.
Thanks!
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She'd walked off the underground into Soho, because she had nothing else to do. Besides, she'd heard that there was 'atmosphere' here, and anywhere there was 'atmosphere', there were dozens of photo oppertunites. She'd slung her camera bag/purse over her sholder, and started off down the street, occasionally pausing to take pictures of unsuspecting locals.
Then she found herself in front of Aziraphale's bookstore, and everything that the angel had used to send customers away, (little lighting, inches of dust, ect.) only increased her curiosity of what musterious novels lurked inside. After a few seconds of indecision, she opened the door, which, to her dissapointment, failed to creek ominously, and began exploring the rows of shelves, hand spread slightly relaxed, slightly in front of her face, reading the titles as she went.
She suddenly, cafefully, slipped a book of the shelf, showering her forearm with a good coat of dust. She carefully opened the delicate book, and began reading with intent. Eventually, she settled herself onto the aged wood floor, legs crossed, book sitting in her lap, pages being turned methodically as she finished each one.
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Aziraphale watched her now, having come out of the back at the sound of the door's silent opening. She was a puzzle, indeed. He hadn't left from behind the counter, though, instead he'd carried his book out with him, along with his cup of tea. He'd been watching her out of the corner of his eye, for the last twenty minutes, as she continued to read.
The bently pulled up on the curb outside, and Crowley walked up to the shop, and let himself in. "Hey A-" he began, and the noticed her, and said, grinning, "didn't know you had a customer," and left, plotting how he could use this against Aziraphale later.
The entrance of Crowley had brought her out of her entranced state, and she checked her watch. "Eee," she said in a worried tone, gathering her purse and book, and heading to the counter.
"I'd like to buy this," she began, as Aziraphale looked up from his reading. Her sentance was halted by a thought of something that sent her into a slightly depressed state. "But now that I think about, it probably wouldn't survive my flight home . . ." she finished with the look of someone who simply must know what happens next, but can't.
Aziraphale was pleased at knowing he wouldn't have to part with another book, but knew the look she was giving the book. It was the same reason he wasn't in the best mood when Crowley interrupted his reading, which always had a way of happening right in the middle of the climax. He also knew that it was a book she'd have a incredibly hard time finding anywhere else.
"You could come back later, and finish it," he proposed after less then a second of thought.
Her face brightened, as she replied, "Really?" in a disbelieveing state.
"Of course," Aziraphale replied, smiling as well.
"Thank you!" she replied, "When?"
"You sounded as though you have someplace to go?" he asked.
"Oh-my-word-thats-right!" she said and turned to leave, leaving the book on the counter.
"You can come anytime," Aziraphale called as she rushed out the door and down the street, plased at the begining of a good deed.