Introduction
It had happened like this: God had sat, cross legged, with the ugliest smirk on their face. And God had asked Crowley a question.
“What do you want?”
The serpent had glared at her, unblinking. And began to spit through clenched fangs. “I want a proper-“
A manicured hand brushed Crowleys arm. He looked to his right, and saw pleading grey eyes looking at him. And Crowley let the angel decide.
“Time. We want time. Oodles of it. So- so we can really think through what would be best.” Aziraphale nattered on. God looked disinterested.
“And do you want this, Crowley?” God asked, looking down at the pair.
‘’yeah. That would be good, yes”
God stared at them for just a little longer, before vanishing into fin are. That was it. The only thing left in existence was a shop that had never sold anything on its short stay on earth.
“How much” Crowley began, “exactly is oodles of time”
Aziraphale smiled in a nervous, frantic way. “I have no idea”
For whatever reason, crowley could not sleep. The ginger had tried all his usual tactics: the floor; the ceiling; as well as the north, east, south, and west walls of the bookshop. Still, nothing.
He rubbed his yellow eyes “Nnk”, before snapping his fingers. His appearance changed in an instant. Crowley grinned; his miracles weren’t being blocked anymore. Doing everything the long way had been so impractical. Being a demon and all, generalised laziness should have scored him extra points. he doubted that anyone was counting them now, but old habits die hard.
Crowley picked up a book from one of the shelves. It looked like it had sat in the shop for at least 100 years, the pages where tinted yellow. The thing was in pristine condition. Upon opening it, crowley found that there was nothing was in it whatsoever. He tried again, again, and again.
Through his boredom, he’d thought that Aziraphale’s spirit might possess him, and he would read something. God had other plans.
He slipped the dusty old tomb back into it’s place.
“Crowley!” A sudden surprised voice sounded.
He turned to look at the angel. “Don’t you like it?”
“No no. You look… lovely”
The demon was sporting a red shirt, with black vest and trousers. He had picked cherry red hair for himself, which came down to his shoulders in waves. His face was framed by a fringe and topped off by a yellow bow, and matching buttons for the vest.
Crowley grinned. “I thought you’d still be scared to lie.”
“I am not lying. I- I was just surprised is all.”
“When have you ever been surprised by my changes in style”
Aziraphale stammered. “This time”
“Sure,” he sauntered past, “come on angel, we’ve got someones forsaken book to look at”