It was a rather blustery afternoon, not uncommon in England, and certainly not so in London. Several people who were milling about the streets of Soho were wrapped up in their coats to keep out the chill, their umbrellas suddenly turning inside out from the wind. Four figures crossed the street outside a familiar bookshop, not minding the traffic or rush of human beings. They stopped outside the doorstep of said building. Gabriel, Michael and Sandalphon looked like ordinary businessmen in slightly outdated and perhaps garish colored suits. Their female companion, who was dressed in an ancient looking white flowing gown associated with ethereal beings, looked up to building's sign that read
A.Z. Fell and Co. Antiquarian and Unusual Books.
Then her eyes fell on the bookshop hours, and looked slightly puzzled.
"Wouldn't know a day of hard work, the lazy Angel." Sandalphon grumbled as they entered the shop.
Said owner of the bookshop's voice could be heard from a back room. "With you in a moment! Feel free to browse among the books!"
Two of the Archangels rolled their eyes, not at all interested in mortal writings. The girl, however, picked up the first book with a title that caught her eye, and began to read with interest.
Aziraphale appeared with a pasted smile to greet his guests, that instantly faded as he recognized Gabriel, Michael and Sandalphon. He quickly moved to turn the sign to 'closed', took a deep breath, then turned to the Angels. Aziraphale clasped his hands in front of him. He stood taller somehow, no longer intimidated by the Archangels before him.
"Is there something you want to discuss with me?" His voice was calm, but slightly cold.
"Aziraphale," Gabriel was trying to sound pleasant as he walked forward. "Why so formal? We're your friends."
Aziraphale's ethereal glow began to form over him. "We are not...friends. Frankly, I will do HER bidding, but I don't really care one bit about the bureaucracy of heaven any longer. You literally fired me."
The smile on Gabriel's face shifted back to his usual grimace. "Then I won't mince words. Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, you are instructed to be on probation for the next four months. You are officially under house arrest, and can leave only to perform a quota of miracles and go out to church. You'll be assigned an 'assistant' who will be keeping tabs on you." He gestured to the young woman who looked shy. "And you are not to have contact with the demon Crowley."
"And if I don't comply with them?" Aziraphale scowled.
A shadow of anger passed over Gabriel's face, but it was Michael that answered, "Then you will Fall, Aziraphale."
Aziraphale took a step back, drawing in a sharp breath. He may not have respect for the authority that stood in front of him, but he liked being an angel. He had been one since before the Beginning. He liked being among humans, who had the capacity for love, mercy and charity for their fellow man. His love and compassion for them was not one that was shared by Gabriel, Michael or the others. And, more to the point, Aziraphale was afraid of Falling. He knew what happened to Crowley after his own Fall. If they distrusted a demon fof Hell, then they would not be so kind to him. To say the prospect frightened him was an understatement.
He cleared his throat. "V-very well. I'll agree to the terms." He muttered, hesitantly shaking the hand of Gabriel who had offered his own.
"Maybe you'll be in better shape if you're not eating mortal food." Gabriel laughed, while playfully punching Aziraphale in the stomach, which made him wince slightly. The three Archangels made their way to the entrance. "I look forward to seeing you, Aziraphale!"
The door slammed shut as they stepped over the threshold. Aziraphale glared at it for some moments. "I happen to like human food, you bastard." he huffed.
"Umm….excuse me?" The feminine voice drew Aziraphale's attention again with a jump. His ethereal glow instantly disappeared as he was thrown back into reality. He stumbled to his desk chair to sit down. It seemed to be too much just at that moment. He'd wanted to get angry at the limitations set on him and the cruel words that were spoken by his former boss. But he could do nothing but comply, to try to be a good little angel again to get back into the Hosts favor, not that he wanted it. How was he going to tell Crowley? What if the demon came here? Surely this new angel would not hesitate to report his conversations with Crowley. He'd just have to find a way to send a message. A letter perhaps…..
"Are you all right, Principality Aziraphale?" The girl bent to put both hands on his shoulders in a reassuring manner.
Aziraphale took a shuddering breath. "Yes...I-I'm fine. "F-forgive me, my child." He trailed off then tried to begin a smile. He hadn't bothered to look at her while he had been speaking with Gabriel. Now he could see her; she was as he gathered, a fairly young angel, no more than a Guardian Angel by all accounts. It figured that they would send a lowest ranking angel to take charge of him, seeing as they had a low opinion of him. She had golden shoulder length hair, hazel eyes and a petite stature. "What is your name, child?"
She blushed. "My name is Magdiel, oh mighty Principality." She gushed, saying his rank with the utmost respect and a deep bow. "I-I am a guardian angel. You're my first assignment, actually." The girl stuck out her hand to shake with him, "It's nice to meet you. This is my first time on Earth, and in a big city like London!"
He smiled kindly. This angel was naive at best, it would not be difficult to maneuver covertly around her. However, this innocence could be a facade. No doubt that she had been briefed by Gabriel about his 'rebellious' actions during the Non-Apocalypse. Perhaps she had even been told of Crowley's appearance so that she could watch out for him. This new angel would bring some little interest in his house arrest. But it also would garner caution, as she was reporting back to Heaven.
Crowley brought him exasperation, humor and most of all, genuine friendship that he enjoyed everyday throughout his long existence. He never had to stand on ceremony with him, nor be cautious as to what was said (well, until he discovered the whereabouts of the Anti-Christ), as they really weren't on any side but their own. It wasn't as though they stopped talking to one another at one time, after all. After their argument in 1862, they proceeded to stay out of one another's path for 79 years until 1941, when Crowley had saved him from Nazi spies at that church. He realized there would be no more dinners, no more days of drinking at the bookshop. He was well and truly cut off from the only friend he trusted.
He pushed aside the feeling of dread and tried to give her a bright look. "And please, just call me Aziraphale. Formality is not very common nowadays."
"O-of course Prin-er-Aziraphale." She sputtered. After looking around for a moment, she continued with. "I heard that you've owned this bookshop for many years."
Aziraphale nodded, "Since 1800." He rubbed the back of his neck. I don't really sell my books, honestly."
"Why?" Magdiel glanced at him with a puzzled expression.
"That would be like selling one of my children, dear. This place is merely to store the collection I've compiled over the centuries." He picked up a nearby book and ran a hand over its cover. "I read these books when they were first published; in some instances I even met the author. To me, they are memories of those times that I cherish and never want to part with. The stories, the observations of humans during the era that they wrote is why I came to understand and love humanity."
Much to his surprise, she nodded. "I've never read any of the mortals' written word until just now. The few lines I read were fascinating! Are all texts like that?"
Aziraphale shrugged, "It depends on what interests you. I can tell you though, some fictional stories are quite fantastic. Perhaps, since you'll be stuck here for the next four months, you can read some wonderful ones." He was actually a little pleased to find someone who thought human books were interesting. It didn't seem like an act either, she seemed genuinely enthusiastic.
Clapping her hands behind her back, she wandered around the bookshop, touching the book covers, sitting in the antique chairs, and marveling at the old knick knacks. " You know, this looks nothing like what an Angel's quarters seem like in Heaven." She looked back and blushed a little. "Ah, but you probably already know that."
Aziraphale almost said that-yes, that was the point. But then, he didn't want to seen maligning Heaven. He just shrugged, "I suppose I decorated it in the style popular when I opened. I believe the only thing that's changed is the lighting. I never use candles anymore, unless I have to contact Heaven." He paused, "Maybe I'll tell you that story in a bit. Now, I need some hot cocoa."
"So the Anti-Christ was just an 11 year old boy? And he restored your bookshop? I thought he was-" Magdiel's voice lowered. "evil."
"No, my child. He is like all beings of every realm. He chose. Adam didn't use his occult powers to end the world and rejected his Father, Satan. He's a good kid, brought up by a good family, and probably wiser than his years. It's why he remade this place." Aziraphale gestured all around him. His face fell after a pause. "I suppose that there's no point in defending my actions." He finished quietly. His 'sins' were probably trumpheted by Gabriel as an example of what fallen Angels were like.
He heard the sound of a familiar motor approaching and alarm bells began to ring
In his mind. Aziraphale got up from his chair and handed the mug to her. "Would you be a dear and take these to the kitchen for me and wash them? There should be soap and a washcloth in the sink."
Magdiel, being trained to be helpful, nodded and disappeared into the back room as there was a knock at the shop's door. He pulled up the blind and shouted very loudly, so that the other angel could hear him. "I'm sorry, we're closed!" But facing Crowley he mouthed, while mimicking a phone. Call me here. I can't talk now.
Crowley's face screwed up in annoyance, but seeing the panic in the angel's face, the demon nodded. A few minutes later, he heard the Bentley peeling away. Aziraphale sighed, glad to dodge that bullet, before he sauntered to the register and awaited Crowley's call.
The phone rang a moment later. Picking up the receiver, he answered in a clamorous tone. "A.Z. Fell Bookshop. How may I help you?" Aziraphale knew that Magdiel had finished with the cups and now was standing looking curiously at him. He spoke into the phone calmly. "Why Nanny Ashtoreth, I haven't heard from you in a while. How is young Master Warlock? No. I'm sorry, I can't invite you over for tea today, I'm afraid. I'm hosting my niece and I have a large inventory to do. Yes, of course you can stop by the bookshop for a moment, if you wish. I'll see you then."
"Who's Nanny Ashtoreth?" Magdiel asked curiously when he had put down the phone.
"She was the nanny who looked after the child Heaven believed was the Anti-Christ." He answered. The younger angel didn't need to know any more that that, Aziraphale decided. He glanced up and down at her. "Look, you're going to have to have more human clothes while you're here. The celestial ones will only bring questions from humans." He went to a bench where a Harrods catalogue that he'd gotten in the mail had been tossed aside. "Pick out something from there and feel free to change it as you please. Though I suggest some warmer clothes now that the weather is getting colder."
She nodded, thanking him before sitting on the settee to look through it. Aziraphale sat at his desk and scribbled a note for Crowley explaining everything. He hoped that he could slip to the demon when he came in.
To Be Continued…..