Everyday it's a-gettin' closer - English Version

The return - first steps

After this embrace, normal everyday life set in over the next few days (at least as far as one could speak of "normal" in this circumstance). Nathanael and Crowley took turns caring for Aziraphale, and while Crowley made his occasional rounds of inspection, Nathanael continued to tidy up the shop.

Neatly, the angel sorted the numerous works by genre, author and series. To Crowley's slight disappointment, she did not seem to despair in the process, at least outwardly. With seemingly infinite patience, and to the most varied music of rock n' roll of all decades, she drew up an index, dusted the shelves and could not refrain from occasionally rummaging through one of the books.

That day was no exception. Interested, Nathanael had grabbed one of Edgar Allan Poe's works, intending only to have a quick look, but had then made the mistake of placing himself in a cross-legged position on the armchair. To the rather quiet sounds of Peter Gabriel, she had really started to read the novel.

It was only a soft "Oops" that jolted her out of her thoughts and when she lifted her head she caught sight of Aziraphale leaning against one of the pillars. He was wearing his usual attire of shirt, bow tie, waistcoat, trousers and shoes.

"Aziraphale," Nathanael marvelled, placing the ribbon that was attached to the book as a bookmark on the current page, placing the novel on the small salon table and standing up, "What are you doing, there?"

Aziraphale smiled slightly embarrassed and nodded her thanks as Nathanael approached him after she had turned off the record player and offered an arm for support. "I just couldn't stand it in bed any more," the angel confessed honestly, walking slowly with Nathanael's help towards the padded armchair, where he then sat down with a low groan.

"But you could have called me," Nathanael sighed and walked towards the tea service she had already prepared on the counter for Crowley's return. She looked questioningly at Aziraphale and he nodded.

"I was going to manage the one or two steps myself," Aziraphale muttered in frustration, but still managed to smile when Nathanael placed a cup and saucer filled with tea on the salon table for him.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. It wasn't necessarily a small thing that happened to you," Nathanael cheered her friend up, poured herself a cup as well, and then sat back down in the chair.

"Oh! "The Fall of the House of Usher - The Haunted Sister." A fascinating work. Albeit creepy. At least to my taste," Aziraphale enthused as he caught sight of the antique book on the salon table.

"Well, yes. I often repeat myself but, that seems to be where the human comes out of me again. The uncanny fascinates me," Nathanael smiled and allowed himself a sip of the tea.

"So where's Crowley?"

"Making one of his spy rounds. He always wants to make sure his miracle holds up. Because if there's one thing we don't need right now, it's prying eyes," Nathanael replied, now placing her cup on the salon table as well.

"All this effort...just because of my stupidity..."

"Aziraphale! You were not yourself. Metatron used one of the cheapest tricks in the world and made you his puppet," Nathanael immediately objected and Aziraphale took a deep breath.

"I still should have known. I don't know how much you know in turn, but the fact that I went along with him and listened to him...was naive enough..."

"...you still believe in the good. In everything. Be it human, angel or demon. There's nothing wrong with that!"

Touched by Nathanael's attempts at encouragement, Aziraphale could bring herself to smile.

"Besides, if we get too hung up on what could have been, we can't focus on what's important! That which was and that which will be."

"You're right," Aziraphale agreed with her, "Because something is clearly up. Metatron was trying to distract me from something or even use me to push it forward!"

At Nathanael's questioning look, Aziraphales began to tell all. The introduction of what had happened with a confused Gabriel, who had turned up stark naked and as Jim at his place; his search for clues because of the record; the near-war; Metatron - quite precisely and in detail Aziraphale told the young angel about everything. Nathanael herself, did not speak in between or even let herself be tempted to make a sound. Now and then she merely nodded and when Aziraphale had finished, she took a deep breath.

"Whichever way you spin it, or whichever side you hear it from - the denominator is always the same. Even if maybe the others in the bosses have half a hand in it...the mastermind is Metatron!"

"Absolutely!", Aziraphale agreed with her, "He has absolute leverage in his hand..."

Nathanael raised her index finger admonishingly.

"I would call it more of a threatening gesture," she corrected Aziraphale, "Because, if he really could use the Book of Life to his benefit, why hasn't he already? Things would have gone very differently, guaranteed! Say: He can't. I mean, after all, if we pull off a miracle that doesn't suit the authorities, an alarm will be raised! And we are talking about the word of the Supreme. Metatron is just a protocol officer, if we want to put it casually!"

Nathanael's conclusions, caused a deep crease to form on Aziraphale's forehead. "Solid argument," he had to agree with her, "what do you suspect?"

"I think he wants to steer the upcoming war - the Second Coming, in 'our' favour. If not to his own. Why? I don't know..." replied Nathanael and they, as well as Aziraphale, looked towards the door as it opened and Crowley, in his usual, own gait, entered the shop.

"Goodness, all the time you're intercepted by either Nina or Maggie," he groaned, "Having friends is exhausting! Little one, shall I give you of Nina!" Crowley walked up to Nathanael and handed her a coffee mug from which rose the altogether sweet scent of caramel.

In his annoyance, he apparently didn't notice at first that the familiar image was different, only when Nathanael grinned at him and then pointed behind him with his index finger did he turn and catch sight of Aziraphale grinning at him in the same way.

"Angel! You're up?", Crowley was now amazed too, sitting down on the back of the chair and putting an arm around Aziraphale.

"Yes...I was beginning to get cabin fever," Aziraphale replied, looking shyly at first at Nathanael. "Are you waiting for my permission or what?" the latter chuckled in amusement and then smiled warmly as Crowley and Aziraphale shared a kiss in greeting.

"Isn't it too soon?" asked Crowley anxiously afterwards, and Aziraphale shook his head. "The fever's gone by now, after all. And the back hurts when I lie or sit, from that point of view, it doesn't matter!" he added to his gesture.

"Besides...I've been alone enough in heaven..."

Aziraphale's expression turned sad. Even lost in thought, he stared at the cup of tea he was by now holding in his hands again.

"So there you have far better company with us," Crowley immediately deflected, "but if you feel weaker, you report immediately! I don't want to have to gather you up on the floor!"

"Of course, and don't worry, that won't happen!" assured Aziraphale, "How does it look? Is your miracle holding?"

Crowley shrugged his shoulders. "Still," he replied dryly, "...cautious though I remain!"

"It's your right too," Nathanael agreed with him. She winced briefly as a shiver unexpectedly chased itself down her spine. Instinctively, she turned to the front door of the shop, where only seconds later a knock was heard.