The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 172: Modus Vivendi

Chapter 172: Modus Vivendi

They had a gentle moment that afternoon.

There was no dessert or deity. No worship. It wasn't a quickie. It was slow and methodical, a horizontal dance performed to its own meter, growing in momentum the closer they got to climax. Skin rubbed skin, fingers interlaced, and mouths embraced in a double-cry as they came hard and long together while the rained pattered on the windows, unconcerned.

And afterwards, when they lay spent in each other's arms, they spoke of the future, and if, even with the hints the book had brought, whether it was time to try just one more thing.

They took the book to De Wallen. Things happened there. They found healing, and focus, and other things they desperately needed replenishment of.

Then, one day, Olivia had them try something they had never done together before. She opened the Book of Life and had them BOTH hold it in their cuffed hands, as it flickered back and forth from black to beige, and there they found the words," Shelter," and "Fay."

"Crowley," the angel gasped. "Surely not. Is that even an option?"

"Woll: there it is. We petition the Seelie Court to hide the whole gaggle, just long enough to find their advocate."

"But even then! And, Death? Advocating to the Universe on behalf of these poor children? I can't imagine it! How would we convince him?"

"Angel, doesn't have to be Death. Maybe Death can point us to the right being sympathetic to our cause."

"I doubt he even cares."

"Again, let me remind you, there it is," the demon encouraged, pointing to the page. "We've searched so long for answers it nearly killed us. We better take this, and run with it."

On the closing day of Gay's the Word, an angel and a demon found themselves reversing roles.

Aziraphale speculatively allowed his arms to be filled with books as the demon meandered here and there. Not that he minded. He enjoyed bookshops nearly as much as he liked books. Each one had a certain personality. And this one was special to him.

And especially crowded today, for what it was. Like being in the middle of a fire sale. "Why is it so busy today?" He looked into his arms, filling up quickly. "And when did you suddenly take up an interest in reading?"

"One question at a time, please," the demon droned, laying down the next book. "See the movie, read the book."

"All these selections have made their way to the silver screen?" The angel's interest was piqued.

"Woll, not exactly? Some of the screens were tarnished. Not everyone has a huge production budget."

"Crowley, I'm so proud of you."

"Shuddit already, just working with an idea."

"I have no inkling on what you're planning, but so be it. Now, will you please answer me? Why are we meeting Mab here, and why the mob?"

"Which is it? Mab or mob?"

"Both, you pesky devil!"

The demon chuckled. "Better call her Tatiana, she's swinging through her moods again, the season's transitioning and all." Crowley slid past customers, picking up a book here and there, putting it back, actually trying to find something. He was acquiring an impressive stack. "She wanted to be here on closing day."