Be Our Guest

Into The Woods

.....Angelica gasped and hastily pulled the blanket over her exposed body, "Anthony! How–how dare you enter my bed chamber unannounced!" Despite her stern tone, the flushed cheeks and heaving chest were giveaways of her state. Anthony stood in part shock, part embarrassment. "I'm–I'm terribly sorry, Lady Sonnet. I just–Well, I heard your distress or—I thought I heard your distress..." He gulped.

Neither moved, caught in the hypnotic sight of the other.

"Why—why did you call for me?" Anthony inquired, breaking the heavy silence. His voice was low, and something gleamed in his eyes, something desperate. "I–I did not."

He stepped forward, "You did." Angelica simply looked away, sparing whatever dignity she had left. "Angelica..."

"Please..." He asked, he begged. At last she looked up, grabbing their face in her hands. "It's wrong."

"Says who?" He'd retort. Wrapping an arm around her waist.

"We shouldn't..." She'd protest whilst holding on.

"Why?" They muttered against her lips.

Aziraphale jumped when the milkman knocked at his door. He groaned, "It's not even–" His eye's widened upon seeing the time on his watch. "Fuck." He should have known better by now to not to get caught up in such a compelling book just before work.

Putting on his intricate suit may have taken time in the past, but he'd been up to it for at least a decade now and thankfully it was his equivalent of quickly "throwing something on." By some miracle he successfully caught the morning bus. (Even if it did leave him out of breath.)

Aziraphale took great pride in being the village Library keeper. (Even if his least favorite part of the job was giving a book away.) He doesn't own the shop per se, but his boss was rarely ever there to claim it.

It was 9:13 on a Sunday, and as he stepped into the little shop, he startled upon seeing Gabriel, his boss.

"Uh-huh...Uh-huh, yeah. Perfect! Thank you for your time." Gabriel said into the telephone, scribbling something onto a notecard.

"Aziraphale, perfect timing. I have an assignment for you." He said, barely sparing him a glance. He retrieved a leather bag and shoved it into Aziraphales arms.

"We have...an order ! the buyer wants these books delivered to this address," He handed him the notecard with the address in question.

"Oh, uh–But... but we don't do... deliveries ?" Aziraphale said, trailing after Gabriel who already walked off.

Abruptly he turned around, almost causing a collision with his employee. "Desprate times call for desprate mesures, Aziraphale, the library is the school's main source of education, and one of the main sources of income for our village. Sales have been down . And now by some divine intervention have a buyer, who's offering enough to pay off several weeks of bills, so..."

He gave one of those overly enthusiastic smiles, placing heavy hands on Aziraphales shoulders, "Saddle up war, and Get.To.Work. You leave at 7. Now, I have work to do." Not leaving room for questions, he turned away, picking up the phone as it rang and resumed scribbling on his clipboard.

"Right." Aziraphale glowered, how could someone possibly be this energetic so early in the morning? In such a quiet place at that. Aziraphale was still floating on the memory of last night's dreams, happily recalling the exciting flashes of adventure. White wings, flaming swords, and a wily snake, it was far more exhilarating than... this .