"We're On Our Side, Serpent."

Prolouge

A/N: Main inspiration comes from the video above!

We don't avoid war, we win it.

Just shut your stupid mouth, and die already.

You have no sword, NOT EVEN A BODY, YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR AN ANGEL!

Aziraphale's eyes opened in a snap.

He quickly looked around.

Still in the bookshop.

The angel arose from his chair. He pulled a large rug on the floor aside, revealing a pentagram.

Aziraphale picked up a few unlit candles that were scattered around the shop, setting them on symbol upon the wood floor.

He stood before the symbol, waving a hand over it. The candle's barren wicks ignited into prosperous flames. The angel kneeled beside the symbol, putting his hands together.

"Hello," He muttered, "I'd-"

A loud knock interrupted the angel's mutterings.

"We're closed!" He yelled, attempting to continue to speak.

The door handle on the front door fidgeted about for a moment. Shadwell eventually slammed the door open.

"I know yer' a demon!" Shadwell shouted, closing the door.

Aziraphale stood up and dashed over, a few pieces of paper flying into the center of the symbol behind him, "I'm afraid we're quite definitely closed."

"Seducin' women to do yer' evil will," Shadwell uttered.

"I think perhaps you have the wrong bookshop," Aziraphale continued.

Shadwell contemplated for a moment, "Book," He snatched up a lonely book that Aziraphale had neglected to put away, "Candle," Shadwell opened a lighter he had stuffed in his pocket, "Awa', ye spawn o' Hell!" He dropped the book and pointed a finger at Aziraphale.

The angel backed away, a bit nervous on what Shadwell was attempting to do.