The three months following Magdiel's arrival were the tensest for Aziraphale since the approach of Armageddon. The younger angel seemed happy to be shown around the city by him, happily took in every word of Scripture in church, and discussed it's human interpretation with him. But Aziraphale felt the aloof coldness within this exuberance.

He couldn't help but feel uncomfortable over the questions posed by her. Why did he insist on using human transport and not his miracles to travel? Why he didn't mind living among humans? Why did he like their food? On one particular afternoon, after a trip to the green-grocers, the lady behind the till sweetly inquired on how he was and if the bookshop was doing well. Magdiel asked him how he explained his longevity to the curious humans, to which he answered, "Humans are short-lived people. They move or pass away and new ones begin to live here."

One question seemed to chill Aziraphale the most when she asked how he managed not to discorporate for so long, and how he managed to do so only once before Armageddon. He bit his lip and drew in a few deep breaths. He obviously couldn't tell her that Crowley had saved him countless times throughout the centuries. That the discorporation that took place in the bookshop had been an accident brought about by a misunderstanding. Still distrustful of her, he said with a wry smile, "I had a guardian angel looking after me."

On one occasion, Aziraphale had received a phone call about a rare book that one of his fellow booksellers was finally going to put on the market. Aziraphale was about to ask Magdiel if she wanted to come along, but she had been engrossed in a copy of Jane Eyre and did not want to go with him. "I'll be back in an hour's time."

It had taken him twenty minutes to reach his fellow booksellers and purchase the book he wanted. Aziraphale glanced around before stepping into a darkened alleyway to call Crowley.

"Aziraphale?" The demon's voice was filled with surprise, "Where are you calling from?"

"A corner off of Tottenham Court Road. I did" The angel replied, glancing off to the distant street sign. "Listen, can we meet somewhere? I need to talk to you."

"Sure, Angel. Where should we meet?"

"The Bandstand. I have to get back soon without having suspicion cast on me, Crowley."

"No problem, Angel. Meet you there."

Ten minutes later, they had met at the appointed spot. The demon could sense the hesitation in his counterpart. "What's wrong, Aziraphale?"

The angel clasped his hands together but didn't look at his friend for a moment. "I know, I shouldn't be suspicious of other angels, but I'm worried, Crowley." He wrung his hands, "She asked me how I managed not to get discorperated, and how I managed to get a body during the Non-Armageddon."

Crowley looked nonplussed. "Surely she'd be curious. What did you tell her?"

At this, Aziraphale smiled wryly. "I told her I had a guardian angel on my side. And that a misunderstanding brought about my latest discorperation that was remedied by the Anti-Christ. I didn't dare tell her about possessing a body that was not mine."

Crowley blinked, but then burst into a short laugh. "Sly, angel!" His laughter soon died away when his counterpart didn't join in. He crossed his arms. "You think that she's reporting back to Heaven, then? Must do, that's what she was assigned to you, Angel. Why so worried, though? You've been a good little angel. She'll be gone in a few weeks, right?"

Aziraphale nodded dimly, "I just feel that something is going to happen that will tip her hand."

"Don't worry, I have a plan. I had to do a little research, but I think it'll work. When's your next day out?"

Aziraphale glanced at him, "Sunday, why? Crowley, what?-"

But Crowley raised a hand. "Just trust me, Angel."

It was on a particularly bitter cold Sunday two weeks into November when the two angels were walking home from church. They were at the Christmas market off Leicester Square, Magdiel taking in the lights and stalls filled with food and crafts with wonder. After buying a crepe for each of them, the younger angel said. "Do hum-er-people usually buy gifts for their loved ones here?"

Aziraphale seemed to think about this moment, "Yes, my dear. If not here, then at the department stores around the city."

"I thought it was a celebration of Our Lord?" She looked at him perplexed.

"It still is, dear. Gift-giving...well that began long ago. There was a man who gave gifts to children during this time of year, he was called Nickolas. That's where the legend of Saint Nicholas came from and is still celebrated today. Gift-giving, especially for children, started in the 19th century. That's when the Christmas cards we've been getting also became popular. It's also a celebration of Christ's gifts from the Magi."

There was a scream from behind them, and both had turned to see a lanky man running with a woman's purse. The suspect seemed to push past people creating an outcry while the police chased him. Magdiel glanced over to Aziraphale, who put a hand on her shoulder and shook her head.

"We shouldn't interfere, Magdiel; it's a human matter."

Magdiel shook off his hand. "So, you are going to leave that man to get away and perhaps commit more crimes?" She stomped off, making herself invisible to the human population.

"Mag-" Aziraphale began, but she had disappeared before he could even protest. He made himself invisible as well and spread his wings to follow her aura. He ducked into alleyways and sparsely populated side streets, guided by the other angel's aura. When he turned a corner, Aziraphale found a crowd gathered around the man who had snatched the purse, who lay face down on the pavement.

"Did'ya see what happened?" An older man with a Christmas jumper asked of another balding man next to him.

"'E was runnin', then just collapsed!" Exclaimed a young woman wearing a cafe apron. "Bloke probably had an 'eart attack or sumthin."

Magdiel stood not too far from them, observing the scene with a grim expression. It was then that Aziraphale caught sight of a Holy Sword in the fading sunlight. Her eyes meet his, cold and hard and mouth pinched.

"Come with me!" The Principality hissed while he took hold of her hand suddenly, teleporting them back to the bookshop. Once there, Magdiel wrenched his grasp from Aziraphale's own. The older angel crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, are you going to tell me why you thought it was proper to kill an ordinary human?"

"I was only carrying out justice as I am allowed to perform, Aziraphale." Magdiel's voice was icy, no longer the innocent young tone.

"Last time I checked, Guardian Angels are not issued Holy swords." Aziraphale snapped. "Are you going to tell me who you are, or shall we have a little chat with the Metatron?"

The female angel pursed her lips, "Very well." She stepped back a moment, the Holy Light flooding the bookshop. When it faded, the angel was wearing a pale yellow modern business suit like those of the Archangels. She shook out her wings, a scowl now crossing her face. "I am the Archangel Raguel, Principality Aziraphale."

TBC...