The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 16: The Moods of a Demon

Chapter 16: The Moods of a Demon

The angel held out a hand, and Anathema took it in a daze. He guided her closer, within a few paces, and guided her hand to the bend of his wings. She flitted a look at Crowley, who shrugged.

"You said he's still reacting. Your words. He must mean it."

Returning her gaze to the angel, she bit her lip and made contact. Her hand went off on its own, sliding over the feathers in the crook. Aziraphale closed his distant eyes and smiled lazily. "See that wasn't so bad, now was it, my dear?"

She broke contact and looked at the floor. "I'm so humbled."

Crowley grunted. "Unbelievable, angel."

Aziraphale's grin widened.

"It was different from yours," she admitted, shaking herself. "Not better. Just different."

"Not better?"

"Crowley, I've encountered demons. And you're like nothing I've ever seen."

And that's all she would offer.

The wings folded away, and were gone. She blinked as if seeing an afterimage, then shook herself back into business.

"Well, that's it for the angel, now the bookshop."

"Whot? The bookshop."

"Yes," she reached into her coat and retrieved a small wooden box. It was built from yew, with no ornamentation at all. Her hand smoothed over it, and then she popped her head up, addressing the demon briskly, "I need you to stay by his side, now. I'll be moving around a lot."

Crowley, completely baffled, moved back over to his friend's elbow, absentmindedly holding his fingers there and pressing protectively against his back. "Bell, book and candle?" the demon asked.

"No, that's further down the road." She passed by him with a mysterious smile, but added nothing.

"No, this is just a small traveling detection kit." She placed the yew box on the circular table and opened it. Pulling out a small pendulum and an archaic book, she turned to a specific page and started to move about the room. The pendulum spun lazily on its cord, making wider and wider circles as the witch paced back and forth, then proceeded to move about. After a time, she traveled the perimeter of the shop, then took the whole run of the place.

Crowley watched her dizzying performance as she swept thru to the staircase, stomped about up there for some time, then came back down talking low to herself. Then, to his mild surprise, she went outside.

The demon's eyes squinted as he watched her pass by the windows, barely missing the crowd of people walking past the shop. No one seemed to notice her.

His body, and with him the angel's, rotated with her inspection as she made the entire route around the front of the building, and then she rushed back in, past them, and let the back door slam shut as she did the same with the back. A minute passed, she returned following another slam of the door. Promptly she halted before the two of them, seemingly satisfied with her investigation, and motioned for Crowley to follow her to the circular table.

"It's nothing to worry about," she said almost dismissively. No other explanation as she gathered her things. Crowley was suddenly in front of her. She stood up and met his eyes directly.

"What do you mean? Could you bother with a bit more detail?" he snarked. Anathema tilted her head and slid the small box back into her coat.

"Don't leave me hanging," he added in a softer tone.

Her eyes flitted around the room, then returned to him. "This bookshop? The one the angel established as his oasis, the one he gave you free access to, to which you have recently taken full advantage off? It's Tadfield in an echo chamber."

"That's not explaining, B.G."

She signed. "Look. The angel feels the presence of love as if it were, well, a presence." Her hand raised, the palm up and she moved it here and there with her words.

"You came to Adam's birthplace, he felt it there. You ran me down in the woods near the village, "she gave him an accusing sneer, "and he was alight with the perception of it. And here, in this place," the hand parked right in front of Crowley's nose, "it's brimming over. It's always been there anyway: I can sense the old established currents. But you two guys have been so...busy," she smirked, he frowned, she carried on," lately that it's churning."

The hand dropped. "And occasionally he taps into it. Nothing more. He'll be fine."

"Does he have control over it?"

"When he wants to, mostly," she confirmed, then added. "With time he'll learn when he's going into those phases, but he's perfectly capable of coming out of them all on his own. Observe."

Suddenly she twisted at the waist and hollered, "Feel like coming back, angel? We miss you."

Aziraphale blinked several times, stiffened, and looked at her quizzically. She turned back and raised her arms, "See? Nothing to worry about. He can react in that state, he can come out of it. Angel!" she called back.

"Um, yes?" he asked, putting his hand to his vest.

"A private word with you, please."

She gave Crowley a wide, obnoxious grin, and walked away, dismissing him.

He raised his arms," Oi, now wait a minute!"

"I'll get to the rest later, don't you worry," she added playfully. Crowley stopped and curled his lip at her. When had she ever been playful? It was rather insulting.

Aziraphale muzzily looked at her and gave her his full attention. He understood now that playful or not Anathema was always full of purpose. She came up close and whispered," Is there somewhere else we can talk?"

"The study, I suppose. Why?"

"It's about Crowley," she stated frankly. "Not to alarm you, but well come on..."

The angel's body suddenly tensed. "Is something the matter?" His eyes were locked onto his friend. The witch caught his attention and motioned forward.

"Just be on guard, come on..."

"Is he vulnerable to something?"

"As bendy as he seems, he also appears quite rigid at times. Or fragile. Like glass."

"What? That's preposterous."

"He has his weak spots, doesn't he?" she tried to make him admit," Points of failure?"

He looked at her, and his brow wrinkled, and his lips turned downward. "He's not a house of cards or a badly made bookshelf!"

"No," she said with surprising tenderness. "He's just a devil on the loose. Come on. I'll choose my words better."

They left for the study, Aziraphale looking worriedly at Crowley the whole time. And leaving him there confounded.

Fifteen minutes past. When they came back, the angel's hands were clasped to his chest. He was looking down. His eyes cast upward for the demon as the witch stood by his side and waited. He found his friend leafing through an old tome by the door. It was upside down.

"Finally ready to include me now?" the demon declared loudly. With a thud he landed the book on a table, making the angel jump. When Crowley rose his head, he revealed a dark scowl.

"It wasn't personal," Anathema said.

"It was very personal," he remarked, crossing the floor at a heavy heeled saunter. As he passed them, he hissed," Let's get down to bloody business already."

As he entered the study, Anathema said," He's a moody thing, isn't he?"

"Decades of it, sometimes," the angel replied, fidgeting with his ring.