TUESDAY
"You haven't made any plans for Friday, have you?" Crowley asked while they were waiting for the check to arrive.
Aziraphale had to think for a moment. "The whole day?"
"Just the evening portion, really. You're free, then?"
"Yes, I am, but why?"
The demon gave him a cheeky grin. "That," he said, "is a surprise. Wear something nice, and don't bother bringing your wallet. I'll take care of everything."
"You have reservations, then?"
"Nope, not telling you!"
"Not even a hint?"
Crowley shook his head, still grinning. "You'll love it, though."
"Oh, really?"
There was a chink as the waiter set down a small tray containing the bill for the evening. "Well," said the angel, "if you're paying for Friday night, I'll cover this." He tucked his platinum card into the little slot and signaled the waiter.
One short credit card transaction later, the two celestial beings were out on the street, walking back to the bookshop since it was only a short distance away. Aziraphale had found that he actually liked walking. Less exhausting than running, anyway. And of course the company made a difference. They weren't walking hand in hand, but they were so close together that they might as well have been.
"I thought you hated Valentine's Day," he remarked to Crowley.
"When did I say anything about Valentine's Day?"
"I know that's what Friday is. I've had decorations up in the shop for weeks now. Did I spoil the surprise?"
Crowley stopped and turned back to look at him. "Angel, exactly what part of 'I'm not telling you' do you not understand?"
"That wasn't a no!"
"It's all you're going to get. Until Friday, at least."
"I'll figure it out! I've always been good at puzzles."
"Yeah, sure." The keys were in the demon's hand, jingling madly.
"You're not . . . coming in for a drink, then?" Aziraphale asked.
"Not tonight, love. I've got a rhododendron with droopy leaves who needs a good talking-to."
"Ah, well. Will I see you tomorrow?"
Crowley looked over his shoulder, a manic grin on his face. "Oh, that's a big yes. Definitely."
That sort of answer didn't exactly set Aziraphale's mind at ease. He watched the demon drive away and wished that he knew what he was up to.
WEDNESDAY
There was a poster in the window of the shop when Aziraphale opened up. He couldn't read it from inside, so he stepped out the door to get a better look at it.
TODAY AT 2! it proclaimed.
SEE CRAWLY THE SERPENTINE WONDER! ALL AGES WELCOME.
"Serpentine wonder?" Aziraphale wondered aloud. His eyes wandered back to CRAWLY.
It couldn't be . . . could it?
There was one way to find out. He went back inside and used the desk phone to make the call, even though it was still early and Crowley was probably asleep, or at least still in bed. The phone rang four times and then the customary message kicked in. The angel hung up without bothering to leave a message and decided to try again a bit later.
His second attempt was successful.
"H'lo?" a sleepy voice muttered.
"What's going on at two o'clock?"
"Wh' year 'zit?"
"Oh, come off it! You put a poster up in my window advertising some sort of . . . snake demonstration at two this afternoon. Why?"
There was a pause. "Oh, that. Well, I thought it'd be good for your image. You know, in the community, and that. Educational, too."
"Crowley, this is a bookshop, not a-a zoo!"
"You're introducing the public to your new mascot. You're welcome."
Aziraphale was furious. "I wish you'd spoken to me about this before deciding to go ahead and do it! Now I have to spend the morning researching snakes."
"No need. I mean, you can if you want to, but I have the copy written out for you already. We'll go over it at lunch."
"Are we having lunch together today? I thought Thursday was our day."
"Normally, yes. But this week is special. I'll need all day Thursday to prepare for Friday."
"Don't go to a lot of trouble just for me."
"You're worth it, angel. See you at one."
"One?"
"Lunch, remember? I thought we'd try the Thai place today. Always wanted to try Thai food."
"You were in the Orient for two hundred years!"
"Yes, but it was different back then. Back in the days of the glorious Empire."
"Which? British, or Siamese?"
"Does it matter? Till one, love." He hung up before Aziraphale could say another word. It was his way.
The angel hung up the phone to find a teenage girl standing there staring at him. "Oh! I'm sorry, dear. Have you been waiting long?"
She cracked her gum at him.
"Please keep that in your mouth, if you could. Do you need help finding something?"
The purple lips parted. "You got 'ny books," she drawled, "on talkin' to boys?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact I do. This way." He led her to the Regency section and found what he was looking for halfway down the shelf. "There's nothing like Jane Austen for romantic repartee. I used to tell people it was like Moonlighting, set a century earlier."
She glanced down at the book as she would have a cockroach on her tuna sandwich. "I hate boring old stuff."
"Oh, it's not boring at all! It's really quite funny and exciting. Please, give it a chance. If you find you don't like it, bring it back and we'll find something else."
"Weeeelllllllll . . ." she dragged the word out as long as possible. "A' right. How much?"
He rang her up, dropping one of his cards into the bag. "Have a nice day, dear."
On her way to the door, she stopped and looked back. "'Z it true there's gonna be a snake here?"
"Yes. At two o'clock."
"Cool! Where is it?"
"Oh, he's not here yet. He arrives just after lunch."
"Can we touch it?"
"We'll see. Thank you, dear girl. Take care now!"
She wasn't the only one. Aziraphale had four more customers before one o'clock, all asking about the snake. One man wanted to know what kind of snake it was.
"Erm . . . a red-bellied black snake," he improvised. "From Australia."
The man's eyes widened. "Dangerous, then?"
"Not if you know how to handle it." After six thousand years, he could honestly say that he knew how to handle Crowley. Mostly. There were still times when the demon surprised him, but they were few and far between.
Another teenager[2]saw the poster and came rushing in. "You gotta snake? Cool!"
"He hasn't been delivered yet. Come back at two if you want to see him."
"Does it do tricks?"
Aziraphale closed his eyes for a moment so the youngster wouldn't see him rolling them. "When he wants to. Snakes aren't really easy to train; it's not that they're not clever enough," he added hastily, hoping that Crowley would forgive him, "they just can't be bothered."
"Wicked! Oh, what have you got for Romeo and Juliet? We're reading it in school."
Aziraphale showed him to the section with Shakespeare books, and made his second sale of the day.
Right on the heels of the young man came a middle-aged woman who looked like she was expecting trouble. "Is it safe?" she demanded.
"Is what safe, ma'am?" he asked, knowing full well what she meant.
"The snake! Is it safe to keep a snake in a bookshop? It could bite someone! It's not poisonous, is it?"
"Venomous," he corrected her. "Plants are poisonous, animals are venomous. No, it is not. He is not. When not on display, as it were, he is kept safely contained upstairs. You have my word on that."
She didn't look entirely convinced. "Something will happen, I'm sure of it."
"You're welcome to come and see for yourself, dear lady. Bring the family! All are welcome."
"Hmph!" She turned on her heel and stalked out of the shop.
Just before one o'clock, a man of about fifty in a Gryffindor[1] scarf ducked in looking for a video.
"We don't sell videos, I'm afraid," Aziraphale told him.
"Not even of movies made from books?"
"I'm sorry, no. Have you tried Amazon?"
The man ducked his head. "I thought it'd be cheaper here."
"Sorry, no."
"What's that notice on the door about a snake?"
"Yes, we're having a demonstration at two o'clock. You're welcome to come."
"Will there be drinks?"
"Why would there be drinks? This is a book shop, not a pub!"
"Can I bring my own?"
"No." Aziraphale herded the man in the direction of the door. "Come back at two. You can have drinks afterwards, wherever you like." He slammed the door, locked it, and flipped the sign to CLOSED.
"Crowley has a lot to answer for," he muttered.
[2] Aziraphale had read the Harry Potter books many times, and was convinced that he himself was a Hufflepuff, though Crowley insisted he was a Ravenclaw.
[1] Shouldn't these children, Aziraphale thought, have been in school?