Forget Me Not

A stolen angel

Aziraphale is about to reply to Crowley, saying that he isn't quite sure, when the bell over the front door tinkles. Aziraphale stands, alert, as still as a statue.

Crowley peaks at his watch. "You get a lot of customers this-"

Aziraphale cuts the demon off, placing his index to his lips and quietly shushing. Crowley narrows his brow and looks from Aziraphale toward the hall. The angel slowly creeps that way with his hand extended, signaling to Crowley to remain where he is.

After a minute of not hearing anything Aziraphale calls out, "Muriel? Is that you?" He doesn't get a reply. The angel grabs a candle stick from a shelf. He mouths to Crowley, "stay here," before top-toeing around the corner.

Crowley isn't sure what's going on but clearly it isn't good. His feet want him to stay but his mind wants him to follow. He hears the creak of a floorboard and Aziraphale's voice say, "oh, rats!"

Then another voice, an unfamiliar one, speaks, "Aziraphale, my boy! What are you doing with that?" Followed by the sound of the candlestick hitting the floor. "Heaven's been missing an angel," the voice says. Crowley hears the snap of fingers and muffled, garaged speech.

The demon's brain wins out over his feet as he sneaks to the hall. He peers around the door frame. In his line of sight he can see Aziraphale's back and someone else. The other person looks much older with a white goatee and suit. Crowley squints to make out ropes wrapped around Aziraphale's arms. This causes white-hot rage to corse through the demon.

"You know," the old man steps up to Aziraphale and picks what looks like lint off his shoulder. This makes Crowley dig his nails into the door frame, pressing so hard that his knuckles turn white. "We've been looking for you," he continues, "had quite some trouble. But I'm sure that's just a coincidence." The old man is smiling and speaking in an almost joyful manner, but his words definitely carry malice.

The presence of someone else, behind Crowley makes him jump. He turns to see that person that he first encountered outside of this shop. His heart, that damn near jumped out of his throat, settles.

"Wh-" Crowley cups his hand over their mouth and makes a shushing gesture with his other. They nod in response.

In a barley audible voice they try again, "what's going on?"

Crowley leans close to speak at a volume somehow even quitter than theirs, "I'm not sure. Some old guy's got Aziraphale tied up."

Muriel leans out into the hall, giving Crowley a minor heart attack. They lean back in and with a very concerned look on their face. They tell Crowley that it's a the Metatron. Both peak back out into the hallway when the Metatron speaks again.

"Once we found that demon friend of yours," He pauses and smiles a smile that's sweet like cyanide, while Aziraphale wiggles and grumbles into his gag. The Metatron goes on, "it wasn't much of an issue to find you. It's time for you to be getting back upstairs now."

2 people wearing toupee business attire, who were previously out of view, grab Aziraphale by either arm. The female-presenting of them kicks into the back of Aziraphale's knee, forcing him to fall over. As they drag him away Crowley steps out from behind the doorway. Muriel grabs his arm to try to stop him but he shakes them off.

"Hey! Don't you fucking touch him," he yells while charging into the room. Aziraphale let's out a muffled scream when he hears Crowley's voice.

The grin drops off the Metatron's face for a moment. For just a second he looks worried but recomposes himself. "Speak of the devil," he laughs then flicks his wrist. With that, Crowley goes flying across the room and into a bookshelf.

The shelf and all of it's books topple onto him. He hears the bell over the door ring again before Muriel comes out and helps dig him from the pile. The demon has no concern for his own wellbeing. As soon as he's able to fight from under the shelf he runs out the door.

"Stop! Stop them!" He runs sideways, holding his aching ribs and pointing to the 4 angels across the street from him. Few people are out this early but those that are seem to of not noticed the broad-daylight kidnapping until Crowley points it out. There are gasps and stares but no one actually tries to intervene.

With the snap of the Metatron's fingers, the corner store adjacent to the book shop lights up. Every window beams with pure white light. The abductors drag Aziraphale up the stairs and into the blinding door. The door closes before Crowley gets to it.

He tugs on the handle but it's no use. Crowley bangs his fists against the door and yells for them to open up. The onlookers stare at Crowley as if he were mad.

"Get out here, you bastards! Let him go! Open this fucking door!" Crowley kicks the threshold. Before he knows what's happened the white light is gone and the windows are filled with newspapers again. An angry man comes out of the shop and shouts at Crowley in a Slavic language. He wacks the demon with a rolled up newspaper until Crowley is off the step.

A woman cuts through the crowd of bystanders and rushes up to the demon. "Crowley! What happened? Where's Aziraphale?" She speaks to him as if they were old friends. "You're bleeding," she adds when he whips around to face her.

Crowley recognizes her as a potential customer from the car lot, "what the-" He decides that her being there or his own injuries aren't of concern now. Crowley breaths heavily, "they- someone took him! They kidnapped him! He's in there."

The kid from the bookshop finally joins them, now that the other angels are gone. "In the corner store? No they went up to Heaven," they say. "Nina, it was the Metatron and I'm not sure who the other ones were."

Both Nina and Muriel look concerned but in a different way than Crowley does. Crowley looks frazzled and scared but they wear expressions of knowing worry.

Nina steps closer in, to make it a private affair, instead of a public display. "Is there anything we can do?" She asks Muriel.

They hang their head while answering, "I don't believe so. Mr. Aziraphale escap- came back to earth on his own last time. I'm just a scrivener and you're a human. We would need a high ranking angel to have a shot at getting Mr. Aziraphale back." Muriel swallows hard. "It's out of our hands but- but I think that Mr. Aziraphale will be okay, I hope," they say unconvincingly.

Crowley looks back at the shop then to his little group. He asks, "what about a demon?" When he only gets confused looks he goes on, "you said a human nor low-ranking angel would have a shot but what about a demon?"

Muriel shuffles their feet, "well, I'm not sure. Would you be any use in your current state?"

Crowley sucks his cheek, "no I suppose I wouldn't." He sets his jaw, thinking of the angel's muffled screams. "I'll be back." He takes his keys from his pocket, tosses and catches them. Crowley spins around while limping away. "I'll be back in the proper state," he says determinedly.

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