[video]

[blessedarethebookmakers]

[he stands in front of a window, winter light streaming in around him and highlighting his white wings. Clever people may notice he's added another ring, silver and black on the fourth finger of his left hand as he folds them in front of him and beams. More than his usual polite interest, his eyes are shining and he looks positively radiant and may, in fact, be glowing just a hair.

When he speaks, his voice is like warm honey]

Hello, I'd like to take the time to welcome all the newcomers to our lovely little situation. It may seem odd and even frightening to be so far from home. You may feel overwhelmed by the task ahead of you and that you may not be able to accomplish healing the corruption that has blighted this land. But I can assure you, it's possible. Some of it has already been cleansed and purified.

How, you may ask?

Why, through our efforts. As a unit. As a group. A team even. Everyone has value and worth here. We are all able to contribute. And there are many here who would help you and guide you to settling in. Finding your way. I'd call upon Lydia if you needed a ready mind and an open ear. Or Eleanor or Richie if you wanted someone to drink and commiserate with. Michael is always splendid to talk to. If there are any children among you, Webby [goodness, what a name] and Leia are wonderful playmates. [so he assumes]

And there are plenty of others here to help.

As for me, I am your local librarian. [his grin widens as this is very new and not even Crowley knows it yet] The selection here is rather small and limited at the moment,but feel free to come in and browse and check out [his wings twitch a little at that] at your leisure. But do see the books are returned in a timely manner. After all, I know where you live. [a smile as if it's a joke]

To that end, I am offering a slight commission for any one who can bring me a book that they find in the wilds or wherever. If you're interested, please take stock of what the library already offers. I'm not interested in copies of mundane things here, but other sorts of books. They don't necessarily have to be non-fiction, but any sort of spell work, spell craft or magic theory that you can find I will pay top dollar for. And also limited or first editions.

[he is not sure where he'll get the top dollar, but nevermind]

Aside from that, welcome to all who have come.

If you have any questions or wish to seek the personal attentions of the head librarian, my consultation hours are posted on the office door.

Comments

[serpentinthegarden]

First it was no, then it was yes... Puzzled again he tilted his head against the pillow as if that would give him a better angle to scrutinized Aziraphale from. "I did have long hair then." Maybe he was flustered over the love of long wavy locks? Crowley stretched and yawned, fanning out that wing as he did so and wouldn't you know... without the loose down to hide it that white feather came fanning out like the rest of them on full display.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Panic flared in him. He felt the same doom as when Crowley told him the end times were definitely going to happen.

Then suddenly like a bolt of Grace from the Almighty, he knew.

"I accidentally gave you a white feather," he blurted. "Awfully sorry. This preening was a terrible idea. Don't worry I'll give myself a black one." A click of his fingers and half his wing darkened. He tried not to let on how much it spooked him.

"I think I'm going to panic--take a long cold shower. Shan't be long. Toodle pip!" And he hurried off the cloud, nearly falling as he did.

[serpentinthegarden]

"You what?!" A touch of vain terror gripped the demon too as he tried to twist that wing around to get a look at whatever the angel had done to him. "How do you accidentally give some one a white feather!? Opps, I sneezed... and suddenly you have two noses? How does that work???" His fear shifted the instant Aziraphale's wing did, transforming as quickly as those white feathers had into the largest shocked saucer sized eyes imaginable. He gaped with an open mouth as Aziraphale fumbled off the cloud and made for an escape to the bathroom. Maybe Crowley should have let him go he felt one of those odd pangs of sympathy and automatically his hand lashed out quick as a serpent's strike to capture the angel's wrist before he had managed more than a step away. "We could just pluck it out." It would hurt but not for long. "I would wait until you calmed down again to do anything about that." He nodded towards the half black, half white feathered wing. It was absolutely silly looking like that and the more he looked at it the sillier it was. Crowley tried to hold back the fond smile, not at all sure those sorts of thoughts would be appreciated right now. "You could lose a wing doing magic when you are upset. Come back to bed?"

[blessedarethebookmakers]

He sat back on the edge of the cloud, face in his hands as shame filled him. He wished he had done it. Been so careless. Because what if they plucked it and it grew back as white as before? He couldn't always make the excuse.

And what it Crowley took it to heart and wanted to call the whole thing off? But shouldn't he want this to happen? Shouldn't it be joyous? It didn't feel that way. It felt like an absolute disaster. Like once again the great wheels of the Plan were moving and they were helpless to stop it.

He couldn't speak. What could he say? But his worry showed in his wings as they slowly continued to darken.

[serpentinthegarden]

Moving was a chore but Crowley slid along the cloud mattress until he was close enough to drape his arms around Aziraphale's middle. His chin came to rest on the shoulder closest to the darkening wing and when staring at those hidden blue eyes from this close up wasn't enough to elicit a response, he sulked... then gave Aziraphale's shoulder a bite. It was just firm enough of a nip to tell the angel to pay attention. "You could just wish it back the way it was. The feather and the wing... I know your magic is strong enough to do it."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Oh, don't be affectionate with him. He could hardly bear it. Even if he wanted to lean back with Crowley and disappear with him under the blankets.

"And what if I didn't do it?" He said, voice rough. "What if it did it on its its own and nothing can turn it back?"

[serpentinthegarden]

"What do you mean, what if you didn't do it? You just said you did." The concept of an angel lying was a rather difficult to grasp one. They were told from the start angels were good, they never lie... Crowley didn't necessarily believe that however he was still shocked by the implication that Aziraphale might have lied to him about this situation. So shocked that he pushed himself away from the angel's back and had to ask. "Are you saying you lied?!"

[blessedarethebookmakers]

The push away hurt more than he thought it did. Even though he deserved that and more. He stood and moved away, not far, but to get away from that warmth.

"Yes..." Confession wasn't good for the soul. It was absolutely miserable. He folded his hands in front of him. "I... was trying to keep you from...getting hurt but..." Obviously that hadn't worked. He'd only compounded it. His wings drooped and he stared at a spot on the floor without really seeing.

"I'm sorry." He didn't expect forgiveness. What could be had after breaking that sacred trust? How could Crowley ever trust him again? He couldn't, was the answer. And shouldn't. Because in a way it was true. He had caused this. If he hadn't given into temptation, they would be just how they always were, proper angel and demon.

But he had decided to enjoy himself too much.

He absently twisted the ring Crowley had given him.

"I suppose we can ask Merlin if there is a fix. Or I can..."

[serpentinthegarden]

Stunned and looking disheveled, aside from some very well straightened wings, Crowley sat back on his haunches and stared out into the room in front of him. He ended up seeing about as much as Aziraphale was by looking down at that spot on the rug.

"That's almost impressive. I mean..."

He drew in a breath and exhaled it again slowly.

"You sucked at it. I could tell something was weird straight away but... never thought you would actually lie."

To him.

He wasn't as upset about that as Aziraphale was. On the whole Crowley had always been truthful with the angel, generally speaking and keeping the important details angelic ears wouldn't care to hear out... He was a demon and demon's lied, so he had been told a few times. And it was impressive that an angel had lied, even if it had been a white one the lowest goalpost there was in the lying hierarchy.

He was suddenly worried about that white feather. If it hadn't been an accident caused by an overzealous angelic lover why had it been there? What did it mean? A kind of terror griped him. He couldn't go back to that, he really couldn't! He had been away too long, been a demon far longer than he had ever been an angel!! Why would this be happening!?

Aziraphale mentioning Merlin gave him an outlet, something to rage at because he certainly couldn't yell at Her while Aziraphale was still in the room!

"Tch, Merlin! Merlin couldn't find his own ass with both hands! He's just a doddering old man!"

As his fury piled up even shit talking Merlin wasn't enough. He would show Her... She could take her plans and Her little inside jokes and shove them right down Her sanctimonious pie-hole!

Crowley grabbed his wing and hunted around until he found that feather. Right in the middle, blasen as anything! He drew in a quick breath, grabbed the feather, and gave it a quick yank. It sent a jolt of electric pain surging up through his wing but he didn't bother stopping to see how much the place where the yanked feather had been now bled. He just crushed the offensive thing in his hand and set it on fire.

"There, problem solved." He growled, "If it comes back we can deal with it then. It's probably a fluke anyway like your wings."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Never thought he would actually lie. He winced. He shouldn't have. Especially since judging by Crowley's rage, it wouldn't have made a difference if he'd told the truth straight off or not. It would have ended the same. He winced again when he heard the feather being pulled free, his own wings pressed tightly against his back, hands clasped together so hard his knuckles were white.

"A fluke? I hope so..." For Crowley's sake. For his own, he didn't think it was a fluke so much as well deserved. "May it never come back." It came out soft and sounded oddly wistful though he certainly didn't hope for it to return.

"I think I ought to take that shower now..."

[serpentinthegarden]

Trying not to let on how badly the idea of backsliding had hit him, Crowley almost didn't hear that bit about the shower. It only came to him in half remembered pieces several moments after the words had been spoken.

"Shower? Ye-- yeah, good idea, angel."

He might have thought to invite himself at any other time but upset, it didn't even occur to him to tease. Instead he flopped back on his side trying and failing to not think too deeply about any of this.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

So he showered. Long and cold and as much as he could stand. Which turned out to be quite a while. He also wished the black away if only so it wouldn't upset Crowley too much-- It would be as if nothing had happened. Even though it felt like everything had happened.

When he was done, he supposed he ought to go back into the bedroom. But instead he went to the sitting room, letting the chill dry on him as he watched nothing vacantly and chased away daydreams.

[serpentinthegarden]

He might have drifted off to sleep, a little here, a little there, but eventually the lack water cascading in the shower drew his notice enough to wake him up fully. He looked up expecting to see Aziraphale's return. Only he didn't. Not for several minutes. Which stretched into a half hour... Frowning tiredly the demon gathered up the blankets around him like he was a nomadic herder carrying even his tent along with him and padded off to search. He took note of Aziraphale existing in the dark of the sitting room, just there on the sofa, but sleepy as he was he opted for the sneak attack. He unceremoniously plunked himself tent and all into the angel's lap.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

He hadn't expected company. He hadn't expected anything except perhaps morning. So he startled when his lap was suddenly occupied.

"Oh!" And then. "Oh, Crowley don't." His voice was near to breaking. "I am absolutely awful for you, you know that, don't you?"

[serpentinthegarden]

"Don't what?"

The blanket monster looked up from its warm den, only then noticing that faint tremor in Aziraphale's voice that instead of making him want to leave actually had the opposite effect.

"What are you talking about, angel? That thing back there? Forget about it, I told you it was a fluke."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"But I lied to you." He couldn't look at him. How could he dare? "And what if it isn't? What if ...what if us... what if...being with you..." He took a shakey breath. "I can't bear it if you're hurt."

[serpentinthegarden]

"That wasn't much of a lie, angel."

Crowley could look at him and certainly did so as he pulled those extra covers up around the both of them.

"And I'm not hurt. I was just... momentarily inconvenienced."

That seemed a good way to put a spin on it. It was only a hiccup, nothing more. There had not been anything to say otherwise.

"Anyway it was worth it. I'd suffer all night to do that again."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

No. He shook his head. He couldn't even laugh about it. It wasn't just a hiccup either. Crowley had been absolutely furious. And the thought of it being more. Of it reoccurring... The nightmare that one day he would wake up with pure white wings... and shouldn't Aziraphale be happy about it? But it filled him with terror.

"I'm sorry. I really am." About everything. About things he'd done and things he wished he could do and couldn't. About things he wouldn't.

"I wanted everything to go so well..."

[serpentinthegarden]

"Every thing is going well!"

Crowley hissed with a kind of desperation as he had very much picked up on the past tense being used and he wanted to put an end to that right now.

"There is nothing, at all, to worry about or apologize for!"

[blessedarethebookmakers]

His feathers fluffed in worry. Was that right? Could it really be? Oh, he wanted to believe it. He wanted to sink back into that comfortable place where there was nothing to fret about. Where there was just love and teases and tender caresses.

"Crowley?" He passed a hand through the demon's hair, feeling a sweet sadness at the softness of it. "Kiss me." Until he forgot to be worried. Until it was all behind in some distant past. Until everything felt right again.

[serpentinthegarden]

Say no more. His hand ran up over the angel's lips and across his cheek until the back of his neck could be gently held. The kiss that followed was long and smooth, filled with adoration and relief that he was still welcome here.

See? Everything was perfectly fine.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

He made a soft keening noise into that kiss, reaching his arms around Crowley's neck, burying a hand in his hair. It wasn't enough. Even this.

"More," he murmured. "Kiss me with the kisses of your mouth, for your love is sweeter than wine."

And he sought that sweet mouth again, opening his own underneath it, tasting his tongue. He sank into it, letting greed fill him. Lust. He wondered if Crowley could feel it. He hoped he could. He hoped that Crowley could feel every little thing he did to him. How much he wanted him. His mouth, his breath, the lean hips pressed against his, his beautiful eyes. He wanted to gobble it all up forever and not let anyone near it.

[serpentinthegarden]

"Sweeter than wine."

He didn't care for the whimper but the poetry was much more flattering giving him the impetus to smile into that second kiss and even offer a few more to that open, willing mouth.

"I like that."

The full depth of Aziraphale's desire for him might still have been some what hidden behind the veil but from the way the angel arched into his touch and sought his lips again and again he could tell he was loved more deeply by this silly, frustrating angel than he had ever been loved by anyone else. Crowley encouraged this desire by allowing his thumb to play along the angel's neck while his free hand found his chest, petting its way over Aziraphale's hidden pecs.

"Red or white?"

[blessedarethebookmakers]

He wouldn't tell him where the poetry was from. Though it might amuse him. It might also make things worse. Instead he tried to focus, squirming a bit under the touch, trying to keep the worries at bay that prickled like chills through him.

"Red... of course. Deep as blood. Dangerous as sin." His own attempt at poetry which fell a little flat really. But he must be swept away by this. Or bring himself back to normal. Anything to get rid of this feeling.

[serpentinthegarden]

Red was a satisfactory answer earning the angel several playful kisses along his jaw.

"Pinot Noir paired with a roasted duck."

If that seemed out of place it was only slightly.

"I'll take you out to dinner as a way of apologizing for upsetting you."

Crowley drew back enough to peer into those gorgeous blue eyes. It was a shame now that they almost looked sad. He fault probably... though he was a little confused on how he had caused this. He did have a plan to fix it. An offering of the finest food and wine... and a small side helping of crow for himself.

"Whatever I did... I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I want you more than anything else, angel."