Aziraphale rushed about the shop distractedly, his arm laden with manuscripts.

"Alright, that's the Voynich, the Liber Linteus, and the Rohonc." He stamped his foot frustratedly. "Drat it all, where did I put that Dresden?" He shuffled around a stack of books and eyed the front shelves impatiently.

You were sitting at his office desk, trying to finish the handwriting work he'd given you earlier that morning. You hated handwriting. It hurt your fingers and took forever, and Aziraphale always made you do it repeatedly until it was just so. Who wrote by hand anymore, anyway? But he adamantly refused to let you have a computer or phone.

"People were writing by hand for millennia before this lazy method of "texting" came into being. Now the human language is disintegrating into single letters and smiley face pictures. No, you're going to learn the "written" language first, dearest."

And so here you sat, bored out of your mind. Aziraphale never even gave you something fun to copy. It was always some old text that made no sense. But now you were watching in amusement as Aziraphale finally found the scroll he needed but managed to knock half of the shelf over trying to retrieve it.

Giving a frustrated sigh, he snapped them back in their places. He grabbed his coat from the rack near the foyer then turned, giving you a stern look.

"Now, I'm going to pop over to the museum with these scrolls. They'd like to get some photographs for their studies. I'll be gone no longer than one hour. I EXPECT those lines to be copied by the time I return. Don't think I haven't noticed you dillydallying about with it all morning. If it's not finished when I get back, I think some corner time may be in order, so..." He peered at you with narrowed eyes.

You flushed and looked down at the floor, swinging your feet guiltily.

He checked the clock in the hall.

"Crowley may be back before I get home. He knows you're supposed to be working. Alright, I think that's everything. I'll be home soon. Be good, dearest!"

He blew you a kiss and went out the door, the bell jingling merrily in his wake.

You turned your head back to your lines, sighing. You'd barely made a dent in the assignment and felt if you had to sit still another second you'd go mad. Maybe just a quick run around the shop would make you feel better.

You pushed yourself back from the desk and leaped up, stretching briefly before taking off at a sprint. You loved this. The shop was so open and large that you could go galloping off at full speed. You dodged piles of books, your mind inventing a fun game of evading pirates and marauders as you, the adventurous archaeologist, tried to find the hidden treasure before it fell into the wrong hands. You slid across the floor on a sharp turn and toppled over your own feet, getting tangled up in the large circular rug in the center of the shop.

"Owww..." you muttered, sitting up and rubbing your hip. You slowly unwound yourself from the rug and stood up to put it back in its place when you were stopped in your tracks by what lay beneath it.

"Oh wow...now this is a real archaeological find," you murmured in wonder. Underneath the rug was an incredible series of patterns and symbols, all etched in a big circle on the floor. You had never seen this before and wondered how long it had been underneath the rug. Had it always been here? And why did Aziraphale keep it hidden? Your imagination was intrigued by the mystery. You sat down so you could examine the symbols more closely.

Some of them you recognized from your writing assignments.

"Ha! I guess Aziraphale was right. Writing is useful! Okay, let's see...so this symbol is part of the...darn it, which textbook was this from? OH! The Key of Solomon! Hold on."

You sprang up and ran over to the older texts that Aziraphale kept out of the public's view. Your eyes spotted the tome on a high shelf. You grabbed a nearby armchair and pushed it over to the shelf. Climbing carefully, you lifted your arm but still couldn't reach the top, so you did something you knew would get you into the biggest trouble if you were caught...you climbed the shelf itself. It creaked and rocked slightly as you put your weight on it, but you held your breath and pushed upwards. Your fingers brushed the spine of the book and you wriggled them, pulling it closer, closer...GOT IT! Ha!

Holding onto the shelf with one hand, now, you dropped the book onto the armchair first before slowly climbing back down. Just as you were stepping on the cushion of the chair, you heard a mighty crack, and startled, you fell backward, thankfully hitting the chair and not the floor. You were breathing heavily from the fright and nervously wandered back to the shelf to assess any damage.

"Oh no..." you whispered. You had widened a crack in the old wood of the shelf and it was leaning at an angle that it was NOT supposed to be. You decided it was best to ignore it. Aziraphale may not notice it after all and he'd never suspect you had anything to do with it. And he had just knocked multiple things off that same shelf not 10 minutes ago. You'd just pretend nothing was wrong. Problem solved!

You pushed the armchair back where it belonged and grabbed your book before running back to the circle. You flipped through the ancient pages until you found what you were looking for: the page of symbols. You remember the hours you had spent copying, recopying, and re-recopying the dozens of symbols and their meaning. It didn't take you long to find the ones you were looking for.

You began to follow the path of the symbols on the floor, the book sliding along with you, reading softly to yourself:

"And in every hour one of the seven planets ruleth and reign-reigneth. And it begins with Saturn...is the highest of the planets, and under him is..."

You were mesmerized by the design and mystery of this circle that had been right under your feet this whole time.

The book gave you instructions on how the circle worked. It was SO COOL! You looked at the picture of the circle and saw the candles that were meant to be arranged in the corners. You looked around and saw a small box on the lowest shelf nearby. And what would you know...eight candles, just like the picture!

Excitedly, you took them out of the box and placed them just as the illustration showed. You grabbed the small matchbook at the bottom of the box and only then did you hesitate. This wasn't just Aziraphale's rule...but Crowley's as well. You were never, EVER supposed to play around with fire, and certainly not in the shop. You chewed on your lip, debating. You glanced at the circle. It was well away from anything that might catch on fire, and the floor was stone. You'd be extra careful. You just wanted to see it all lit up...then you'd put the candles, the rug, and the book back before either of them found out.

You lit the match, and a little thrill went down your spine. Fire was such fun. It was so pretty and you loved the smell of a lit match. It reminded you of Crowley. You bent down and lit the first candle, then the next, and so on until the entire thing was awash in soft light.

"So pretty!" you squealed excitedly. You bent back down to the book and read the next page.

"Power of the Kingdom, be beneath my left foot, and within my right hand."

The center of the sigil began to emit a pale light. You gaped...this was working! Excitedly you went on.

"Glory and Eternity touch my shoulders, and guide me in the Paths of Victory!"

The second circle lit up, brighter. You bounced on your toes, oblivious to anything else around you.

"Mercy and Justice be ye the Equil- Equillibr-*you stuttered on the larger word for a moment, the lights in the sigil flickering* EQUILIBRIUM! and splendor of my life!"

The entire center of the circle was now ablaze in blinding white light. A soft glow was beginning to rise into the air. You stood there spellbound by its beauty. You turned the page and kept reading, almost by impulse.

"Understand and Wisdom give unto me the Cro-"

"STOP!"

A thunderous voice shook the whole room, snapping you out of your reverie. You dropped the book, badly startled, as a burst of hot wind blew by you, quickly extinguishing the candles' flames. The lights within the circle began to dim, flickering until they had diminished entirely. You look up where the blur had stopped to see Crowley standing there, breathing heavily, looking up at the ceiling above the circle with frantic eyes. He stood there like a stone, almost like he was waiting for something to happen.

"Crowley?" you said in a small voice, confused and a bit scared.

"Shhhh!" he hissed sharply, holding out an upturned palm, telling you to keep still. You gripped the book in your arms and watched as he slowly stalked around the edge of the circle, testing the edges of the lines with the tips of his toes. After he had made a full pass around, he slowly knelt in front of you and eyed you over worriedly. He took your chin in his hands and tilted your head this way and that. He peered into your eyes and seemed relieved with what he saw. He carefully pulled the book out of your trembling arms and chucked it across the floor. Letting out a deep breath, he plopped down onto the ground and buried his head between his knees.

You had never seen Crowley like this. He was...scared. His shoulders were shaking, his fists opening and closing tightly as he tried to relax the muscles in his body. You slowly crawled over to his side and put a hand on his knee. He looked up quickly, eyes still wide with residual panic, before taking in your worried expression.

He reached out and pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms tightly around your body.

"Crowley, what's happening? You're scaring me!"

He just continued to hold you, his breathing erratic, almost hyperventilating.

"S'okay...you're alright and I think it's going to be okay."

"But what happened?"

He finally regained enough composure to pull you away from him. He stared deep into your eyes and it felt like he was trying to look into your very soul.

"Darling, that circle..."

But before he could finish speaking you both felt a rush of wind sweep through the shop. The door to the bookshop slammed shut, making you both jump and turn.

What you saw made you scramble back into Crowley's arms with a cry.

Aziraphale stood silently in the closed door, looking down at the scene before him with an expression on his face that you had never seen anywhere before. It was terrible. Crowley tensed behind you, his hands gripping your own.

The angel's eyes never left the uncovered circle as he slowly moved closer to the scene. The air in the bookshop grew colder. The hairs on your arms began to rise, and you could feel static electricity in the air. You shuddered and heard Crowley swallow hard, letting go of your hands and standing up carefully and slowly as the angel advanced.

He held out a hand placatingly. "Aziraphale, it's fine. I've checked everything and nothing's coming. She-"

Aziraphale never once looked at Crowley. He merely held up one finger as he circled the floor. Crowley clamped his lips together and backed away. You still hadn't moved a muscle from the floor. You watched as he took note of the once-lit candles, eyes then traveling across the room to the book that Crowley had thrown. He slowly made his way over to it and carefully picked it up, smoothing out the pages before closing it with a snap that echoed throughout the building. Wordlessly, he began walking to the shelves where you had found the book. He paused and looked at his armchair a moment before turning his head to the shelf.

Making his way over he reached up and placed the book back where you had found it. You felt a knot tighten deep in your stomach when his gaze lingered on the cracked and tilted lower shelf you had been standing on.

He still had not spoken. You weren't even certain he was breathing, so silent was the shop. You felt your heart thudding painfully in your chest and you felt panic settling in like a vice.

Aziraphale walked past, neither speaking nor looking at you and made his way over to his desk. He looked down at your unfinished writing assignment, sliding the paper back and forth very delicately with one finger.

It was then, finally, that he turned his head and looked at you.

Immediately you burst into tears. You began to rapidly crawl backward into the bookshelves as he slowly and deliberately made his way over.

Crowley was still standing like a statue. He'd only ever seen Aziraphale this upset once in their entire existence, and on that day he had thanked heaven and hell that the angel's ire wasn't directed towards him.

You kept scrambling backward on the floor until your back hit a bookshelf. You clawed your way upright and went around the back of the shelf. Aziraphale kept advancing, eyes never leaving yours. You darted along shelves, desperate to get away from his terrible gaze. You finally reached the last shelf and there was nowhere left to go. You peered at him from behind the stacks of books, hands clutching the edge of the shelf tightly.

Aziraphale finally stopped, pointed at the ground in front of him, and spoke.

"Come...here."