Chapter Text
A little later an excited Muriel storms in and finds Crowley sprawled in his favorite place.
„I have been entrusted to care for the bookshop“ they inform Crowley.
„Excellent“, drawls Crowley. „Any idea how to run a bookshop?“
„Not really“, they laugh embarassed.
„Well the main thing in this bookshop is not to sell books.“
Muriel's mouth hangs open. „The Metatron told me I should try to sell them. He said that is what a bookshop is for.“
„Petty bastard“, murmurs Crowley.
„What did you say? I couldn't hear it.“
„What? Oh, nothing. Look, the Metatron is right in general terms, but not for this bookshop. It is more of a collection. And you do not sell things you collected.“
Muriel looks doubtful. Then they remember something.
„The Metatron also said I should get you out of the bookshop“, they say nervously.
„Yeah, sure.“ Crowley says nonchalantly. „No worries, I will be leaving soon. Right after you answer a few questions for me.“
„Oh .. well .. that is probably ok I assume“
„Of course! Would I ask you if it weren't?“ Crowley flashes a quick smile at Muriel.
Muriel is fairly sure that the answer to that should be a resounding 'yes', but does not say anything.
„So, do you remember the crucifixion?“
„Yes, of course“, answers Muriel. „I cried when he died“, they add.
„He's a god. Or at least a demigod. They don't die“ Crowley says disdainfully. „Transiently discorporated, that was all. And I am pretty sure he had not to do any paperwork to get the new body.“
„What about Job's trials? You remember that?“
„Yes. Especially the discussion about whales.“ Muriel looks to Crowley „I like whales. Never seen them though“, Muriel adds wistfully.
„Do you remember the flood?“
Muriel does not answer immediately. „I know the history, of course. But I am not sure .. It does not feel like I've been around then...“ They stand there lost in thought.
“Oh, we struck gold, again”, murmurs Crowley to himself. Loud he says „OK, we need to boost the statistics. A few questions more and I am out of it.“
„What is that? Statistics?“
„Oh, that is a scientist thing. I hung out with quite a few of them in my time“, Crowley answers casually.
Muriel looks askant, but Crowley is not in the mood for further explanations.
„Do you remember, when the first humans had to leave Eden?“
„I read the account many times, of course“, answers Muriel. They look to the floor and try to focus. „But it does not feel like I was there when it happened..“ Muriel haltingly says „I would have told them to eat from the tree of life first, if I would have known about it.“
Crowley jumps up excitedly and hits his forehead with his hand „What an idiot I have been! That would have been soo much more trouble!“
Muriel stares confused at him „What?“
Crowley calms down „Never mind. Excellent thought of yours, that's all.“
Muriel beams: „Nobody ever told me something like that before.“
Crowley: „I would not be so sure about that.“ He is enjoying himself now thoroughly.
Muriel does not understand a thing, but before they can ask, Crowley continues: „So, what about the creation of the stars? Every angel around must have noticed that?“
Muriel starts to say something, but then stops and begins to wring their hands. They look frightened.
„What does it mean that I can't remember these things?“ Muriel asks desperately.
„I don't know. Not for sure, anyways.“ Crowley answers, not entirely truthful. When he feels their distress, he decides to drop a hint: „You have seen what happened to Gabriel. That might contain a clue for you.“
Muriel nearly shouts: „But I did not understand what had happened.“
Crowley nearly gently „Take your time to think about it. You will have lots of time here in this bookshop. Finish the book I gave you.“
He gets up and leaves. Outside he takes the Bentley for a long ride, while he tries to sort out his thoughts and his feelings. The Bentley can feel a distracted driver, and does a good job of standing in for Crowley. It even tactfully chooses music unrelated to Aziraphale.
This day surely had been a rollercoaster of events and emotions. Crowley has no idea, whether the bond forged by two kisses would hold, and what he would do, should he notice a tug from the other end. Aziraphale's chances to survive his job assignment with intact memories were extremely slim, not to mention the chances of him succeeding in his actual plan. And what would be the point if Crowley came barging into a lost cause, just to die himself theatrically.
His thoughts come back to Aziraphale and his mind shows him all of Aziraphale's small mannerisms. Crowley sighs. What is it he really likes about Aziraphale? His kindness, his (often misguided) courage, his bubbly enthusiasm, his (also often misguided) optimism, the steel below the softie surface? Can't be his ready submission to higher authority and near terminal naivety, could it? He sighs again. Well, at least the latter two seem to have been cured a bit. He smiles grimly as he recalls how the Metatron got led astray by Aziraphale. Finally Crowley's thoughts fleetingly come to Muriel. There was an angel with a dark mystery – and who seemed amenable to input by a certain demon. That was a promising constellation.
The Bentley parks itself in front of Crowley's old flat. Crowley emerges from his thoughts. Should he try to enter? Shax might have changed the access codes. Well it does not hurt to try. He gets in without problems, though. Lots of unopened mail at the door. At least she got the heater going. The living room is a nightmare in red plush and leather. With a move of his hand he changes the furniture back to his liking and falls onto the bed.