To most, the sight of those unblinking, inhuman eyes staring at him like that would have probably been mildly alarming at best, but he had grown so accustomed to the look of them, to the way he just wanted to gaze into them, and to Crowley's unflappable tendency to stare so long ago that at first, he didn't even realize that the demon was beginning to get anxious again. Usually, a Crowley who was giving him his absolutely undivided attention was either contented and calm, or was focused enough on their conversation that he didn't feel the need to avert his gaze, glance about, squirm around, pace the room, and it meant there was a level of calmness that it normally gave the angel.
So he had almost let himself grow complacent in the quiet of the bookshop as he'd prattled on, all until Crowley had suddenly thrown off his blanket, and the pacing and darting glances were back. Different face, foreign at first glance, but still so familiar in his own way. Familiar enough that Aziraphale instantly felt his own anxiety rocket back to the forefront, standing and following after him in a flurry before he found himself sputtering in disbelief.
"Safe? Me? Believe me, Crowley is-..." Er. The last person who would cause him any harm? Right. And also standing right in front of him. "There is no need for that, I'm perfectly safe, I assure you."
And then he was picking up a very old, very large book, and Aziraphale's feather's bristled in the ether as he reached out for the heavy tome.
"I don't know what you're doing with my first-edition Dumas, but p-..." And that was about the time he heard it. Distant, yes. But those older motor vehicles were so very loud, and this one was very distinct. When he really cared to stop and listen for it, he could hear it coming from at least a block away. "Please put it down. Everything is fine. Just calm down!"
Only his own sudden surge of barely-restrained panic probably wasn't helping, nor was the sound of screeching tires outside the front of the shop, the slamming of a thick, metal door, and then the surprise of the bookshop doors slamming open all on their own accord before the familiar redhead had even reached them.
"AZIRAPHALE!"
"Oh, damnit all, here we-"
"AZIRAPHALE! WHAT'S HAPPENING? Who is this who are you and just what is your big idea? Get away from-"
"Crowley, lower your voice, there's no need for that, calm down!"
The newcomer was already advancing, puffing up his chest and hissing low as he glared daggers into the smaller demon through his sunglasses, and Aziraphale did his best to intercept them both, reaching out to stop him as he tried to step between them before there was any violence. Crowley would not hurt him, no, but he had proven more then once that he would do harm if he felt there was no other choice, that Aziraphale was in even danger of simple mild inconvenience, and that was the last thing the angel wanted.
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rosecarmine
(no subject)
Date: 2020-06-12 10:03 am (UTC)So he had almost let himself grow complacent in the quiet of the bookshop as he'd prattled on, all until Crowley had suddenly thrown off his blanket, and the pacing and darting glances were back. Different face, foreign at first glance, but still so familiar in his own way. Familiar enough that Aziraphale instantly felt his own anxiety rocket back to the forefront, standing and following after him in a flurry before he found himself sputtering in disbelief.
"Safe? Me? Believe me, Crowley is-..." Er. The last person who would cause him any harm? Right. And also standing right in front of him. "There is no need for that, I'm perfectly safe, I assure you."
And then he was picking up a very old, very large book, and Aziraphale's feather's bristled in the ether as he reached out for the heavy tome.
"I don't know what you're doing with my first-edition Dumas, but p-..." And that was about the time he heard it. Distant, yes. But those older motor vehicles were so very loud, and this one was very distinct. When he really cared to stop and listen for it, he could hear it coming from at least a block away. "Please put it down. Everything is fine. Just calm down!"
Only his own sudden surge of barely-restrained panic probably wasn't helping, nor was the sound of screeching tires outside the front of the shop, the slamming of a thick, metal door, and then the surprise of the bookshop doors slamming open all on their own accord before the familiar redhead had even reached them.
"AZIRAPHALE!"
"Oh, damnit all, here we-"
"AZIRAPHALE! WHAT'S HAPPENING? Who is this who are you and just what is your big idea? Get away from-"
"Crowley, lower your voice, there's no need for that, calm down!"
The newcomer was already advancing, puffing up his chest and hissing low as he glared daggers into the smaller demon through his sunglasses, and Aziraphale did his best to intercept them both, reaching out to stop him as he tried to step between them before there was any violence. Crowley would not hurt him, no, but he had proven more then once that he would do harm if he felt there was no other choice, that Aziraphale was in even danger of simple mild inconvenience, and that was the last thing the angel wanted.