Happy Holidays, silverfox!

[goe_mod]

Title: Not That Bad
Recipient Name: Silverfox
Rating: G
Pairings: Aziraphale/Crowley, Gabriel/Raphael
Warnings: none
Summary: It was supposed to be just another ordinary day in the bookshop. Instead, an Archangel in need shows up on Aziraphale's doorstep and asks him for help. Things get even more delicate when they realise that, in order to find a solution to this problem, they will need the assistance of a demon.

Note: The author has divided this fic into five parts for easier reading.

It was a beautiful early summer day in the City of Westminster. For London, ‘beautiful’ meant that it was not raining, but in this particular case, it also meant that the sun was shining. It wasn’t hot, though, just pleasantly warm, with a fresh and cool wind bringing some air that was, if you were lucky, not completely infested with the smell of exhaust fumes.

Aziraphale was Spring Cleaning his bookshop today. For Aziraphale, ‘Spring Cleaning’ meant that he went around the shop and had a look at his books, decided whether some of them were in need of a rearranging, moved some book piles from here to there, decided he should sort them into their respective places, then found there was no space for them in the shelf they would belong to, and instead stacked them again in slightly different piles than before.

Sometimes, he would find a book he hadn’t looked at in a while and remember how happy and proud he was to actually own it, and then he would sit in his chair for a couple of hours, reading it.

Sometimes, he would remove some dust from the shelf tops, or would ask a spider if they would kindly move to the side for a moment so he could take out one of the books to check if he had properly catalogued it, and then he would get lost in refiling the endless lists of inventory that he had.

Eventually, he would shuffle over into his back room to make himself a nice cup of afternoon tea.

He had just sat down and had opened today’s reading, taken the first bite of his biscuit, when he felt a tingling go through his entire being. It was like an electrifying tickle, and it unnerved him.

This tickle meant Heavenly presence.

He felt a tingling whenever Crowley was around, because Crowley (although Fallen) was of Heavenly origin, but he was used to that particular, Crowley-ish tingle. He would recognise this tingle amongst a trillion of others – which was actually how angels identified themselves. They could sense each other and distinguish their feelings, which helped a lot in recognising each other when you could change your exterior to whatever you wanted.

He loved that tingle.

This tingle, however, sent chills down his spine and made him freeze in his tracks. This tingle meant trouble. Trouble of the worst kind.

Slowly, he placed the biscuit back on the porcelain plate, closed the open book and put it on the side table, brushed some crumbs off his dark brown corduroy trousers, and got up from his armchair. Then he walked over to the door to the saleroom and carefully cast a glance around.

Where was he? He had to be around somewhere, even though Aziraphale hadn’t heard him come in.

Just as he was starting to doubt his own senses, a dark figure moved into the light coming from outside and he heard rattling in front of his shop door. Aziraphale had closed his shop under the pretext of aforementioned Spring Cleaning, but this ‘customer’ wouldn’t care about his plans whatsoever.

Sighing to himself, Aziraphale went over to the shop door and opened the locks.

Gabriel was standing in front of it.

Normally, Aziraphale’s insides turned into a clump of annoyance and repulse whenever his superior was near, and he had to muster the height of his efforts to try and stay calm around him. Today, however, something else mixed into this natural cocktail of upsetting feelings.

Aziraphale knitted his brows together in mild astonishment as he took in the appearance of the Archangel in front of his shop.

To understand Aziraphale’s state of mind, you have to understand this: Imagine a businessman. Not just a businessman, actually, but the businessman. Imagine seeing someone on the street and knowing that they are the kind of person that runs the whole world; so impeccably dressed that designers and tailors learn from them what to design and what to produce, so flawlessly composed that – even if you are an inveterate atheist – you have to believe Someone put this together. Imagine Perfection could walk on two legs.

This was, usually, what Gabriel looked like.

What Aziraphale saw before him turned out to slightly differ from this, though.

Gabriel looked… off. For Gabriel, ‘off’ meant still better than approximately 99% of Earth’s entire population. But if you were used to him being neat as a pin for over 6000 years, you still kind of noticed.

There were slight circles underneath his purple eyes and a light shadow spreading over the lower part of his face. His tie was ever so weakly crooked and his hair looked uncombed, yet not really messy.

The most disturbing part of this entire ensemble of off-ness was his countenance, though. The air of absolute self-righteousness, conceitedness, and snobbishness was pushed aside to make space for an expression of sullen despair and very reluctant helplessness.

It was the furthest away from Gabriel-ness than Aziraphale could imagine. For a moment, he wondered if it really was him.

But then he opened his mouth, and Aziraphale was very sure about it.

“Aziraphale. You’ve got to help me.”

Of course. No, “Hello, Aziraphale,” no, “I need your help,” no, “May I come in?”

Just, “You’ve got to help me.” Because it was a given, and how could Aziraphale ever dare not to help his superior?

He pressed his lips together and forced himself to smile. Remember your New Year’s Resolutions, he told himself bitterly. You’re an angel, and angels should be nice to one another.

And then, a little voice Aziraphale was almost embarrassed to house inside of himself added: If you’re overly nice to him, it might actually annoy him in his current situation.

“Gabriel!” he warbled, trying to convince himself it was not overly nice to act like this. “What an unexpected circumstance to see you here on such a lovely day! Don’t you want to come inside? I’ve made some tea!”

Gabriel’s glare told him that he was, in fact, being overly nice like this. A bit more concern would probably have been more appropriate right now. But Gabriel seemed to really be desperate, as the look on his face changed back far too early and he shoved himself past Aziraphale without another word.

His usual smell of Eau de Parfum was tinted by the slightest hint of something musty. For a moment, Aziraphale was genuinely worried about him.

He closed his shop door (closed and locked it, to be precise, now under the pretext of ‘unexpected visit by the boss’) and followed Gabriel over to his back room. Normally, Gabriel radiated confidence and power wherever he was, walking as upright as a ninety-degree angle. But if Aziraphale wasn’t completely wrong, it seemed like today, his shoulders were tense. Aziraphale almost regretted having moved the book piles out of the way earlier. In his current state, Gabriel might have tripped over one.

As he sat down, he leaned his forearms on his legs, hunching himself over. Aziraphale couldn’t remember ever seeing him sit like this. He wondered vaguely if Gabriel was even physically capable of actually crumpling up his clothes.

Wordlessly, he got another cup and filled it with Earl Grey. He placed it in front of Gabriel, then he sat down himself.

Suspicion was growing inside of him as he watched Gabriel’s features. If Gabriel was this tattered, something big had to be very off. Aziraphale only hoped that it wouldn’t turn out to be a bother for himself.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes; Aziraphale looking at Gabriel, Gabriel looking at his cup of tea that had a reddish gleam in the afternoon sunlight. Finally, unable to bear the awkwardness any longer, Aziraphale cleared his throat politely.

Gabriel took the hint with a faint furrowing of his brow.

“I won’t glamourise my situation,” he said, and his voice sounded a little darker than usual. “I came here because I was hoping you had a book in your… collection that would help me out in a very delicate matter.”

Aziraphale noticed the way he said ‘collection’. The concern he had felt for him deflated a bit.

That Gabriel seemed to be the one in trouble, though, made Aziraphale perk up. He had been afraid that something was going on in Heaven, or – worse – even on Earth. But it sounded like it was exclusively related to the Archangel himself, and that (even though it again almost embarrassed Aziraphale to realise this) killed off all his worries and produced an alarming amount of gloating instead.

He should not delight himself in Gabriel’s trouble. But all the times Gabriel had been unbearably mean to him were feeding this feeling inside of him fat.

“What matter?” he asked and managed to avoid sounding excited. He was burning to learn what Gabriel had gotten himself into. The all-too-perfect Archangel being so desperate that he was calling on Aziraphale for help? This had to be good! He almost wished he had one of those Sentient Phones Crowley used to record things with sometimes.

The shame Gabriel was going through was visible on his face. Aziraphale felt the corners of his mouth pulling up in a smirk and quickly covered his mouth with his teacup. Oh, this was delightful! He could practically feel Gabriel squirm!

“I have been summoned,” Gabriel finally told him.

Aziraphale spat some tea over his saucer.

Then he coughed.

Gabriel glowered.

“You –”

“I have been summoned!” Gabriel repeated. “Yes!”

Aziraphale blinked at him slowly, processing the information.

“But I thought,” he started tentatively, “that all Summoning Texts were destroyed by now. The Library of Alexandria. The Libraries of Constantinople. If I remember correctly, Heaven was very good at using what were extremely dramatic events for humanity in Its advantage to care for the convenience of all the angels who –”

“Apparently not!” Gabriel interrupted him with a snarl. “At least one book is still intact, and it has been used on me, as you can see.”
Aziraphale frowned and put his cup down.

So that was why Gabriel looked so roughed up. He had probably been on Earth for a few days now and had his angelic powers bound.

When angels or demons got summoned properly, they couldn’t break free from the bonds on their own. To go back to Heaven or Hell, they had to be dismissed by the person who had bound them. Should this person die before the releasing, things got a little more complicated.

As long as the bonds were still intact, the entity had to stay on Earth, without any possibility to contact Heaven. The only way to break free from the bonds was to please the summoner and make them release you. Or to find a way to get released in a different way. Which was, probably, exactly what Gabriel was here for.

Originally, these Summoning Texts had been invented to give strength to all the Believers who had fought against persecutions, had suffered religious wars, or had become a martyr of some kind. They had soon found out that it added some weight to your points in an argument if you had a winged creature with a flaming sword at your disposal. For said winged creatures, it usually meant suddenly being sucked out of Heaven and appearing wherever you had been summoned to, no matter your own circumstances. You could just hope to have a convenient appearance at hand, and to, ideally, be properly dressed.

Usually, when the deed was done, you got released again with no inconvenience. But, as humans are, things had gotten out of hand at one point.

Instead of summoning angels when in mortal danger or desperate need, people had started to summon them for lesser things. To see one, for example. To show off to your neighbour who had been annoying you for the last couple of years. To ask the angel to tell said neighbour that this was your orange tree and that he was looting. To ask for a good word.

Naturally, both Heaven and Hell had become annoyed at these kinds of summonings, so it had been decided to get rid of the Texts. Over the years, all of them had been located and removed – in any way necessary.

They had been certain that all of the Texts were now gone. Nobody had been summoned in centuries.

That was, apparently, up until now.

“What exactly happened?” Aziraphale asked. “Who summoned you? Where to? For what? And how did you get here?”

Gabriel’s expression darkened. It was obvious that he was not happy about telling Aziraphale how all of this had happened, which, considering their relationship, was not really all too surprising. They had spent millennia getting on each other’s nerves, because both of them were unteachable pigheads who would not back down in the face of the other’s provocations. Aziraphale liked to be left alone and do whatever he deemed right and just. Gabriel liked things to be done the way he ordered them and got cranky when Aziraphale didn’t obey. Granted, he had to run quite some paperwork Up There.

But there was no denying the fact that he enjoyed having power over someone a bit too much.

Now, however, the tables had turned, and it was not Aziraphale trying to passive-aggressively avoid Gabriel interfering with his business, but Gabriel passive-aggressively asking him for help. Aziraphale had to acknowledge the very un-angelic fact that yes, this was definitely giving him satisfaction. The pang of shame he would expect from such an acknowledgement appeared to be on holiday or, more likely, had rage-quit the last time Gabriel had bothered him.

“I was summoned three days ago,” Gabriel finally started, “in Cologne, Germany. The summoner is a young woman, who did not intend to get into any of this mess here. She told me she found the Text when she was taking care of the Historical Archive. It collapsed a while ago. They had to clean the site and remove all the goods. She found the book in a secret, so-far undiscovered chamber and took it with her.”

His tone became noticeably more annoyed. How anyone could be this ignorant and stupid seemed to surmount his wildest imaginations.

“She was more shocked than anything when I really appeared. Apologised a thousand times. We tried to find the passages that describe how to release me, but the Texts are incomplete. Pages of the book are missing or are absolutely unreadable. It’s impossible to release me with this. We have to find another way. And the only person I could think of who might actually possess something helpful in this matter...”

“… is me,” Aziraphale finished the monologue.

Gabriel looked so miserable that Aziraphale wanted to frame his face and hang it on a wall in his bookshop.

Confidence was flooding his insides. Gabriel was dependent on him, completely and utterly dependent, and he was – basically, in Gabriel-standards – begging Aziraphale to help him. For once, Gabriel had to admit Aziraphale was good at something. That his bookshop was useful, and no waste of time.

The feeling Aziraphale had was close to what he would call ecstatic.

He leaned back and crossed his legs, raising his cup again and took a long sip.
Gabriel was radiating suppressed anger and it was glorious. The gloating inside of Aziraphale burped in satisfaction.

“I might actually own a book that could help you,” he hummed, as if he had to think about it thoroughly first. “I would have to have a closer look at them, though. I am not entirely certain.”

Gabriel knew Aziraphale was tantalising him, you could tell by his glare. But he couldn’t say anything against it, because he needed Aziraphale to help him. Oh, this had to be one of the best days of Aziraphale’s entire life!

“I would be ever so much obliged to you,” Gabriel pressed out through gritted teeth, “if you could do so. Now.”

“Eager to get back to Heaven, are we?” Aziraphale stated and put his cup down, uncrossing his legs. “Haven’t they noticed you missing yet? Especially Raphael. Hasn’t he figured out where you are?”

A shadow crossed Gabriel’s face. For a second, Aziraphale felt ashamed for having gone too far.

It was no secret in Heaven – actually, it was basic knowledge – that Gabriel and Raphael were very close to each other. You could say they knew each other in the Biblical sense. Far before Adam and Eve, they had been the first lovers that God had created. Being separated with no concrete prospect of Gabriel returning back to Heaven must be cruel for them. Even though Raphael could visit him on Earth, it had to be different not to be able to go home together.

“Raphael is Up There, covering for me,” Gabriel said. “The other angels can’t know where I am.”

“Why not? They too might be able to help you.”

Gabriel frowned deeply, clenching his jaw. It took Aziraphale a moment to realise what his expression meant.

“But they would taunt you, wouldn’t they? For being unlucky enough to be the only angel summoned in the past… what, 1000 years? 1500?”

Gabriel’s face was currently darker than the deepest pits of Hell could ever be.

Heaven was supposed to be Good, to be caring and loving and tender and nice. In reality, however, Heaven was just as horrible as any other institution filled with a whole ton of people who have to work together constantly and have developed a love/hate relationship which makes you jump on any possibility to mock your coworker and humiliate them right to the verge of the Geneva Convention stepping in. Even Raphael, who loved Gabriel with all the pureness God had ever implanted in the concept, had probably laughed at him when he had learned about his plight.

“I need to get back as quickly as possible,” was all Gabriel said to this.

Aziraphale nodded. “I will search my books,” he promised. “It could take a while, though. Do you have somewhere to stay?”

Gabriel’s face told him that this was a very stupid question to ask. Aziraphale felt no regret in having asked it anyway.

“I don’t,” Gabriel made clear with a very grumpy undertone. “I have no money or anything with me whatsoever. Raphael was able to get a hold on some Euros, but I used them all up getting here. The worst part is that my powers don’t work, so I’m basically nothing more than a human. I can’t arrange things the way I want them anymore, I am dependent on things as they appear to be.”

Aziraphale hid his snorting by faking a cough. From the look on Gabriel’s face, the Archangel wasn’t buying it.

“What happens,” Aziraphale wanted to know, “if you get discorporated? Won’t that make you turn up back in Heaven?”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel answered. “Maybe. Maybe it would just make me hang around Earth without even so much as a body, though. I do not intend to try it out.”

Aziraphale hummed sympathetically. “Sounds like a really precarious situation for me,” he stated.

Gabriel glared daggers at him.

“My body,” he began, in a slow and dark manner, a manner in which a mother speaks to her child after calling them by all of their forenames, “is running out of the angelic powers it was charged with, too. It’s becoming human, and I can tell you that it is not amusing. I am tired and hungry. My feet start to hurt. My clothes… smell. I can’t maintain my appearance, and it’s wearing me out. If you want to call this precarious, I want to call you something else.”

Aziraphale had to forcibly remind himself that being exhilarated in the face of such despair was extremely un-angelic and he should be ashamed of being such a horrible person. Also, Gabriel would probably degrade him as soon as he got back to Heaven. So he swallowed all his remarks and just nodded in a way that he hoped would look compassionate.

“I suggest,” he said, “that I will lend you some money. Then you can buy yourself new clothes and whatever else you need, and pay for a hotel room. It will take me some time anyway to read through my books, so you can use the time to, uh… patch yourself up a little. How does that sound?”

Gabriel’s glare slowly subsided into a tired, defeated look. “I think in this current situation,” he sighed, “this is the best option that I have, yes.”

Aziraphale nodded. He got up from his chair and walked over to his desk in whose drawer he was keeping his money. He wasn’t afraid of someone stealing it. No one would ever even think about trying to break into this bookshop. He’d taken care of that.

He counted it and put some of it aside before he placed the rest of it back in the drawer. Then he rummaged around for a while until he found an envelope to put it in. He carefully closed it so the money wouldn’t fall out. Then he had an idea and rummaged around some more for a map of London.

Gabriel was down on Earth quite often. For any other angel than Aziraphale, ‘often’ meant maybe once a year. And even then, Gabriel probably didn’t know of all the shops and hotels around here that he could visit. The thought of him getting lost in the city had a certain appeal to it, but Aziraphale figured it would be better not to upset the Archangel further.

He found a fairly up-to-date London guide in a heap of hotchpotch on the table by the door and flipped it open at the pages that showed the location of his shop and its surroundings. Then he took a pen and marked the spots that might be useful for Gabriel. He even wrote some notes down on a piece of paper, folded it neatly, and placed it between the pages as a bookmark.

Then, finally, he returned to the back room.

“So I got you –” he started, but then he stopped in his tracks and stared in bewilderment.

Gabriel had fallen asleep in the armchair.

He lay there on the cushions, half spread out and half curled up, like someone had very elegantly dropped him there.

Aziraphale grimaced in frustration.

This was the last thing he would ever have wanted. Maybe it was a payback for his undeniable delight in the Archangel’s misery.

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose with his knuckles. Okay. Okay. He had to stay positive. He would work on this problem, after all, to get rid of the sleeping entity on his upholstery.

He placed the envelope and the London guide on the table and grabbed his teacup. He needed something harder than this, he felt, but he didn’t want to make too much noise by fumbling for a bottle of wine. Gabriel sleeping on his armchair wasn’t ideal, but waking him up would probably make him a whole lot more grumpy.

Then he left the back room and walked over to his telephone behind the counter. It was mounted onto the wall and had quite some flyers stuck behind it. Aziraphale removed them from the crack between the phone and the wall and leafed through them until he had found something to his liking.

Ordering food in had been a great invention, he thought. Oh, he loved to go out for food, no question. He loved nice little restaurants where they knew him. He loved chatting with the waiter and getting special meals thrown together just for himself. He loved to recommend new wine offers, even though sometimes, that annoyed the sommelier. There was nothing like going out for a very good dinner.

But, sometimes, you wanted to stay at home and get food without leaving. When Crowley stopped by and they had a few glasses, and suddenly he suggested: “How about pizza?” When there was an entertaining program on TV and you didn’t want to miss anything but you really felt like Chinese. (Sometimes, Crowley was involved in this scenario too.) Or when your boss had zonked out in your back room and you certainly didn’t want to leave him alone here, but knew he would be hungry as soon as he woke up. Those were the times when flyers came in handy.

Aziraphale called a nearby restaurant that he knew to deliver quite tolerable food. Then he hung up and replaced the flyers. A moment later, he picked up the receiver again. There was another call he definitely needed to make.

After two rings, Crowley picked up.

“Heyo, angel,” he half purred. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Aziraphale huffed. “I’ll tell you what’s up! Gabriel is asleep in my armchair!”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

Then there was a short-taken, “What?”

Aziraphale wanted to shout, but he couldn’t, so he hissed into the phone instead. “Gabriel is asleep in my armchair!” he repeated. “He showed up like half an hour ago, and I left the room for only ten minutes, and when I came back, he was sleeping on my bloody chair!”

Again, he was met with silence from the other end.

“You’re joking,” Crowley claimed. “Very funny, angel. Now what do you really want from me, because this is –”

“I swear to you, it is the undeniable truth!” Aziraphale promised. “He got summoned and has lost all his powers! Now his body caught up on being fully human, and he just… sleeps!”

“… Aziraphale, angels don’t get summoned anymore,” Crowley tried to correct him. “It has been decades since your lot destroyed the last Texts, and we both know that they –”

“Historical Archives in Cologne,” Aziraphale interrupted him. “Apparently, they had a copy left in an undiscovered chamber. When the building collapsed, a clean-up worker found it and took it home instead of handing it in. She tried it out and did a good job with it. Don’t ask me how. But Gabriel is here now, and let me tell you that he is not in a very good mood!”

Silence.

Then: “Why did he come and visit you if he got himself summoned in Germany? Doesn’t he have a boyfriend to pester in such a situation?”

“Raphael can’t help him, except for covering for him Up There so no one will make fun of him when they find out. It’s not really respectable to get yourself summoned as an Archangel when Heaven put so much effort into ridding the world of all Summoning Texts.”

“Yes, I recall these days,” Crowley mumbled. “But can’t he –”

“The instructions on how to release him are lost,” Aziraphale answered the question before Crowley could ask it. “He can’t be dismissed in the usual way. That’s why he’s here. He hopes I can find something in one of my books.”

Another moment of silence from Crowley’s side.

When he spoke again, his voice sounded as impishly excited as the one of a kid who asks if they can try to put the guinea pig in the microwave. “Can I come over and draw on his face?”

“No! Crowley!”

“You could put his hand in lukewarm water! I heard that it –”

“Crowley! You are not helping!”

Crowley gave a disappointed sound. “Can you at least take a photo of it?” he asked. “You can use it to blackmail him.”

Aziraphale sighed. “No. Maybe. Later. He’s asleep in my armchair, Crowley! Gabriel is asleep in my armchair! What do I do with him now?!”

“Well, if you really don’t want to draw on his face with permanent marker –”

“No!”

“Ah, well. What have you done already?”

“I ordered some food, so he can eat something when he wakes up. And I wanted to lend him money, so he can go and take lodgings in a hotel, so he can shower and have his next nap there. Also, he needs to buy new clothes.”

“Ah, yes, he definitely can’t use yours,” Crowley stated.

“No, he’s taller and broader than me.”

“Yes, that too.”

“What are you –”

“Just take advantage of him being crashed out and search your books in peace,” Crowley told him. “And when he wakes up, give him the money and shoo him out the door. Let him buy whatever he needs, and let him sort things out for himself. Call Raphael to help him if he can’t do it himself. Oh, and make sure you do not give him a credit card or something! He will run you into debt by buying one single pair of underwear, that snob!”

“I do not even own a credit card,” Aziraphale grumbled.

“Oh, don’t be so literal, you know what I mean.”

Aziraphale sighed. “I do. Yes. Thank you for your advice, Crowley. It helped me to talk to you.”

“Always my pleasure,” the demon said, a bit self-congratulatory. Aziraphale bet he was still thinking about drawing on Gabriel’s face with a Sharpie. “Call me when all this is over or when you need more advice. Or want to tell me more funny things that Gabriel did. Oh, and don’t forget to send me the photo! But put your phone on silent first, or you might wake him up.”

“I really need to hang up now, Crowley,” Aziraphale said dryly. “Talk to you soon.”

He replaced the receiver. Then he sighed very deeply and, once again, pinched the bridge of his nose.

Reading. He should get to reading. The quicker he got this thing over with, the better.

Next: Part 2!

Comments

[silverfox]

Oh my, a five part story for me! And with Gabriel, my favourite Archangel! I love you, secret author!

[secret_kraken]

:')
The story escalated a bit when I wrote it, because your wonderful prompt inspired me so much! ^-^
I love Gabriel as well, and it was so much fun to write him together with Aziraphale!
I'm glad I made the right choice :)

[silverfox]

Ah yes, they do that to one sometimes.

I'd have loved it with whatever archangel you'd have chosen, but Gabriel really put the icing on the cake.

[(Anonymous)]

Gosh, this is so funny. I can't stop laughing.
Gabriel's distress, Aziraphale's distress but desperately tries to help Gabriel, Crowley wanting to draw on Gabriel's face... perfect!

[secret_kraken]

:D
I'm glad I could make you laugh!
Thanks for your kind words <3

[(Anonymous)]

This is amazing. I love Aziraphale and the constant internal monolog of "I shouldn't-- oh but this is wonderful." I'm also delighted by your description of his spring cleaning.

And I burst out laughing when Crowley asked to come draw on Gabriel's face. It's such a beautiful image :')

--DwarvenBeardSpores

[secret_kraken]

Aaaaw, haha, thank you! :D
I think we all know this inner monologue sometimes, right? X'D
And really, who can blame Crowley? ;)
Thanks so much fpr your comment!

[vulgarweed]

Oh, what a delightful opening THIS is - you've got Aziraphale's character down, I think. A bit angelic, certainly enough to help - and also rather petty.

Gabriel looked so miserable that Aziraphale wanted to frame his face and hang it on a wall in his bookshop.

Sheer passive-aggressive poetry!

[secret_kraken]

Why, thank you! ^-^
I'm so glad that you think my Aziraphale is well written!
"Rather petty" and "sheer passive-aggressive poetry" got to be the best Aziraphale-feedbacks I could ever get, thank you so much! XD

[(Anonymous)]

Oh man! A five-part fic with A/, Gabe/Raph and an apparent emphasis on how adorable our favorite angelic jerk Gabriel is -- I wonder who this could be from... ;)
This is off to a great start, the storyline is so enticing and the background concept is very solid and believable. The way you write Gabriel makes him really endearing and likeable in this fic.
"Gabriel looked so miserable that Aziraphale wanted to frame his face and hang it on a wall in his bookshop." Best
Also Crowley's temptations are so on point -- who could resist drawing on an asleep douchey supervisor's face with a marker? Hahahaha
Can't wait to read more!

[secret_kraken]

*sweats nervously*
I-I, uh, have NO idea what you mean!
I mean, this is definitely the FIRST time I'm writing ANY of this!!
*puts on fake moustache*

I am very excited to read that you like the start of this story!
And that Gabriel is actually likable, despite being a jerk whose face you want to draw on XD

Thank you so much for your lovely comment, it's making me so happy! ^-^

[notaspacealien]

Haha! This is so funny. What a pickle Gabriel is in.....and Aziraphale is just OOZING smugness :'D

[secret_kraken]

Aaaah, I'm glad you find it funny! :D
Aziraphale enjoys having power over Gabriel SO MUCH, hehehe! |D
Thanks such a lot for your comment! ^-^

[sonnet23]

Oh, I'm enjoying this so much! :D The characteristics are so great and funny and the comparisons are so fresh and unexpected - like the one about the frame, yes, and this one: "a manner in which a mother speaks to her child after calling them by all of their forenames"... :D Oh, there are so many!

And I love this gloating sarcastic Aziraphale so much! it's hilarious :D Of course, he wouldn't behave like that if Gabrial didn't deserve it, would he? ;) Although you can't help but feel sorry for the poor snob sleeping in the chair :)

And Crowley's 'advice' is really an icing on the cake ;)

[secret_kraken]

Asfsgdkugfhksg, thank you! <3
I'm so happy you're enjoying my fic and my weird comparisons :D
I think every child with more than one name KNOWS that tone XD
And yes, of course Gabriel deserves it!
At least in Aziraphale's eyes XP
And yeah, what advice will you expect from a demon ;)

Thank you so much for your lovely comment! ^-^
It means so much to me!

[maniacalmole]

The idea of him talking to the spider is so cute :)

"He loved that tingle" my hEART

I love the Sentient phone, and "The pang of shame he would expect from such an acknowledgement appeared to be on holiday or, more likely, had rage-quit the last time Gabriel had bothered him." is such an excellent sentence XD

Crowley's whole convo on the phone, from the fact that he answers it 'Heyo, angel' is so in character and I love it XD And I LOVE that Aziraphale's response to him asking him to take a photo is 'No. Maybe.' He CONSIDERS IT, oh Crowley you're too good at your job XD

[secret_kraken]

Oh my Gods, thank you so much for your wonderful comment! :3
I read that "headcanons about your OTP"-post on tumblr a while ago, where the question "who kills the spiders" was answered with "Aziraphale" and I was like "Nooooo, he wouldn't kill a creature of God, he would kindly ask them to please bugger off!", especially since many people (including myself) are afraid of spiders, and what better way is there to scare off some customers? So I had to work that into my fic, to appease myself XD
Hahahaaa, I'm glad you like the pang-of-shame-line :D There's only so much a decent emotion can take before it quits!
And let's be real, who wouldn't love to see Gabriel with a fake mustache drawn on him? :P
Thank you for your kind words, they made me so happy! ^-^

[maniacalmole]

Right, and also I feel like Aziraphale wouldn't be afraid of spiders. He's seen plenty of weird creatures from their very beginning and he can't really be hurt by them anyway. Plus, he knows that lots of 'scary' creatures aren't actually all that bad--like spiders, and snakes...

[secret_kraken]

especially snakes! XD

[sous_le_saule]

This is hilarious! Aziraphale and Gabriel's interactions are priceless. And Crowley, my god! I had a wide smile all along. Also, I agree that your comparisons are great!

[secret_kraken]

Haha, thank you so much! :D
I was hoping those two would make for funny interactions and I'm glad to hear that they made you smile! ^-^
Thanks a lot for your sweet comment, it made me so happy! <3

[edna_blackadder]

Oh, this is hilarious! As other commenters have said, your Aziraphale-voice is on point. I'm also impressed by how well you've got the GO narration down! Not an easy thing! :)

[secret_kraken]

Omg, thank you! <3
I'm so happy to hear you like how I wrote Aziraphale :3
And thank you as well for the compliment, that means so much to me ;_;

[hsavinien]

This is obviously going to go amazingly pear-shaped. :D

[secret_kraken]

You sure? :P
Hahaha, thank you for your comment! <3