The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 14: I Need Alittle Help from My "Loose Associations"

Chapter 14: I Need Alittle Help From My "Loose Associations"

"Why didn't Ma-dame tell us any of this?"

"We all agreed," Anathema countered," that I was best to break the news."

"So, you made the call."

"Who better?" she admitted. He shrugged.

As they entered the bookstore, they paused in the doorway and looked around for the angel. "You called him?"

"You were right there, B.G." Crowley nodded. 

"Didn't notice," she said tartly. "Your driving is distracting."

"Woll, didn't keep you from driving your point home. And I called him. Once I knew what you were about. Once I felt confident," he turned meaningfully to her, "That your intentions were well meaning, and competent."

"OOOhhhhh," she tisked, "You are in dire straits." Then they spotted the angel, and he them, with delight.

"Why Hello!" Aziraphale closed a small book he was reading and swept up to the young woman. "What a pleasant surprise, Anathema, seeing you here! How are you, my dear?" Of course, he would remember her name.

"Getting along well, thanks."

With unintentional timing, the angel took off his glasses just as the demon was removing his. Aziraphale, even after all his fussing prior, suddenly glared at Crowley for his indiscretion in front of the human visitor, until Anathema stated," Why does an angel need readers?"

The glare turned to her, and the demon took a pass by his ear and muttered," She knows, angel," before sauntering toward the center of the shop. Aziraphale nervously spun his head between the two of them.

"Knows? Knows what?"

"What you are," Anathema said. "And what you are to each other."

Crowley paced back. "Ha! We don't even know that! But, we're learning, angel." Now he stood next to his bewildered friend, hands in pockets. "Aren't we?"

"Oh, it doesn't faze me," Anathema interjected.

"Nothing seems to," the demon said, still holding his friend's stare.

"It's not like you hid it very well from the start, not from me. Honestly, I'm past caring at this point."

"Uh, um," Aziraphale cleared his throat. "Are we so obvious?" Worry lined the edges of the question.

"Not to someone like me, but then again, I've been practically bred to look for these things."

"What...gave us away?" the angel nearly pled.

Crowley answered for her. "Little clues, but mostly vibrations."

"Vi-vibrations?"

"Angel-version of an aura," she assured him. "but you're developing one of those too. Anyway, enough of that."

Aziraphale turned to her, as did Crowley. "But I would like more details."

"Look, no one else knows, for now. And they won't. I've taken some extreme measures." A loaded silence which perplexed the angel but propelled his interest, and his trust, further. "I have something more pressing to speak with you about."

"Is that the business that brought you here?"

Anathema looked sideways," M', for the most part."

Crowley showed his teeth, and growled," Former Miss Device is inquiring about the well-being of the self-appointed Tools of the human race."

"I beg your pardon?"

"How are you feeling today?" she asked bluntly. "Any trances or moments of detachment?"

The angel was beside himself. His eyes grew until the whites shone completely around the edges, and Crowley and the witch exchanged a quick look as the demon guided the dumbfounded angel by the elbow and further into the shop. What precipitated was a hushed and animated conversation that Anathema regarded with aloof curiosity.

Every so often the angel whipped his head in her direction, a half a dozen emotions playing on his face each time he turned around. Mortification, embarrassment, insult, incensed, thoughtfulness, true consideration, and then a rather puffed up, if ill-prepared, dutifulness. Meanwhile Crowley bobbed around him explaining, consoling, joking...agreeing. Not once did the two touch each other, yet Anathema couldn't help but notice how intimate the whole thing was.

At last, the angel put down the book, paused and adjusted his tie. Crowley straightened up and removed his hands from his pockets.

"Can you see and hear us from here?" Aziraphale called. She nodded. "What is your request?"

"I want your permission," she called back, "to see you go into that state. To quiet my own concerns."

"And this is for the sake of the earth?"

Crowley raised both his shoulders and eyebrows to her, the edge of his mouth ticking.

"Yes," she said quite honestly, and convincingly. The demon relaxed.

"It's not required that we come any closer?"

"No. I can see clearly from here."

"But I'll have to get closer after that?"

"I won't touch you. I promise."

"But, you, will be with me?" Aziraphale looked plaintively into Crowley's eyes, and the demon shifted his entire body around him, hiding him. There was a bodily nod, and Crowley stood away. The angel looked off to the side, then back at Crowley, then straight ahead. He closed his eyes and nodded quickly.

And Anathema watched as the demon rested his hand on the angel's shoulder and gently turned him. He took his friend's face into his hands, and she barely made out the words," It's all clinical, angel. You're safe." And then Crowley gently kissed him. Anathema witnessed a slow transformation.

The angel's body relaxed. He didn't return the kiss, but rather succumbed to it. And the demon was so tender with him, pulling away with his hands still around his face, and watching the display himself.

Anathema realized she had been holding her breath, and not moving. She cleared her throat and shook herself.

At some point, Crowley nodded to himself, and gently turned the angel around. He guided him up to the witch with one arm around his back and the other holding him at the elbow. He stopped a couple of paces before her and pulled away from the angel. Crowley gave her a very obvious glare. It wasn't threatening, so to speak: more of a promise of said threat if—

"You know my intentions. I won't hurt him."

Crowley edged a little closer, an oily grin on his face. "I'll be at arm's length, B.G. Just in case."