1 • These Are the Days of Our Lives

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Those were the days of our lives.
The bad things in life were so few.
Those days are all gone now,
but one thing is true.
When I look and I find,

I still love you...

"Are you..humming Queen, Angel?" The question came from a redheaded, serpent-eyed demon. He called himself Anthony J. Crowley. His polar opposite, a blue-eyed blonde angel who went by his given name of Aziraphale, happened to be the one who was doing the humming.

"Hm?" Aziraphale spun around on his heel to face the one questioning him. He held a stack of books within his arms. "Why, you play that music so often, I ought to have a tune get stuck in my head."

Crowley hummed as an acknowledgement of a response.

Aziraphale scoffed, "oh, wipe that grin off your face." He paused to eye the serpent, the one who had an eye-to-eye grin, before he found himself shuffling across the room. "What are you still doing here anyway? Tea's been over for fifteen minutes, I've a bookshop to run."

"My apologies, I shouldn't be intruding." Crowley turned himself to face Aziraphale after apologizing. Too bad his back was turned to him, opposite of the bookshelf in front of him. "I'll be on my way then," he added after a quiet moment.

"Mind how you go," Aziraphale replied immediately while carefully adjusting books on the third highest level of his shelf.

Crowley took in a sharp inhale. "Right. Goodbye, Angel." He gave a little head nod, although the angel didn't see it, and with that he left.

»»»«««

The light was blinding in Heaven, at least to a demon who spent all their time in the basement. The said demon walked with purpose through the golden arches, entering the lobby. They made haste as they reached reception, slamming a filthy hand on the desk.

A woman with tightly tied hair and a pristine white pantsuit sat at the desk, typing away at a computer. She was scared straight at the hand slamming down, but shivered at the sight of the disgusting demon in front of her. "Oh! Lord Beelzebub!"

"Which Archangel signed the Treaty of 1770 B.C.?" Beelzebub questioned with a pint of rage in their tone.

"Th-that was Archangel Gabriel, Lord," the receptionist answered with a might of fear. No one up here wanted to see a demon storm up in rage right after the cancellation of Armageddon.

"Buzzz me into his office," Beelzebub spat out, quite literally. At least their spit wasn't venomous like Dagon's. "Now!"

"Er, what is your reason for visiting him?" The receptionist stumbled through the sentence, trying her hardest to just do her job.

Beelzebub squinted, their eyes glaring daggers. "Don't play gamezz with me, angel!" Unlike Crowley's use of the word, angel was not a term of endearment when from a demon's mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Lord," the angel breathed out. She swiftly grabbed the phone, tapping a few numbers before putting the phone to her ear. Her hand shook as she spoke, "Lord Beelzebub is here for you, sir."

The demon didn't even wait for an okay to go up. They stormed over to the lift and miracled the doors open. There was no time to wait for it to open on its own, the explosion of anger needed to happen in Gabriel's presence.

They waited impatiently in the lift, having to go all the way to level 70 to reach the Archangel's offices. "Fazter!" The demon shouted, making lift move a might quicker upwards.

Once the doors finally opened they marched down the hallway, passing door after door before reaching the third on the left. They snapped their fingers, the door slamming open. "Have you spoken with the Amphangelzz?"

Gabriel, not so concerned about Beelzebub's sudden appearance, scrunched his nose slightly. "Of course not, why would I need to?"

Beelzebub buzzed out a snarl. "There have been rumorzz spreading like hellfire downstairzz, he'z working with you to sneak an attack on us."

"I haven't talked to him in 4000 years, and I have no intention of doing so," the archangel explained. Based upon the demon's look of seething anger, he proceeded to put his hands out. "We can't interfere. I signed the treaty-"

"Fuck the treaty!" Beelzebub blurted out in a sudden bout of rage. They stomped towards Gabriel's desk. They immediately slammed their fists on the desk, flies aggressively buzzing around his face. They leaned in, muttering furiously, "if I find out you're fraternizing with them, I will reign Hell on all of you."

Once the demon stood back up straight, Gabriel proudly tilted his head. He wouldn't show any fear to his mortal enemy, he couldn't. "If you're so concerned, you talk to him. They are demons after all."

The demon straightened their jacket, flattening any creases. "They're not under Satan'z jurizzdiction, they're under God'z. So you better pray to Her that I don't find out you've been in contact with him."

The two were silent, drowning in the final threat Beelzebub had spilled. They ended up turning back towards the door, beginning to head out.

Gabriel then asked a question that made the demon stop in their tracks. "Would the demon Crowley happen to be involved?"

The demon stood in a hesitent silence for a moment. "He...is none of your concern."

Gabriel replied in good time, "if you say so." With that statement, Beelzebub kept walking right through the doorway.

Gabriel stood, left alone in his now silent office. He let out a low sigh, seating himself in his chair. He hesitated before grabbing his phone. With the press of a button, it immediately went through to the receptionist. "Put me on the line with the Earth Observationist," he requested. After a few moments, he spoke once again. "Archangel Gabriel requesting details on the last known location of Amphangel.." he paused, just for a second, "Zadkiel."

»»»«««

A bell dinged as the bookshop doors were opened. A sigh came from the left, near the windows. "What now, Crowley?" Aziraphale let out, sounding somewhat frustrated. He turned around, seeing a heavier – in comparison to Crowley's quite thin body – male with short brown hair and glasses. "Oh," he replied in a bit of shock to see it was a customer who'd walked in. "Dear me, did I forget to turn the sign to closed?"

The other male looked at Aziraphale. "Oh, no I-I saw you in the window, I just assumed..." He awkwardly pointed to the window as he tried to speak.

"Oh, I remember you!" Aziraphale exclaimed. "You were at the airbase."

"Yes!" The brunette certified. "Erm, Newt. Newton Pulsifer."

"Ah, Mr. Fell." Aziraphale smiled a welcoming smile, putting his hand out to shake Newton's. "How may I help you?"

"Well, me and Anathema are moving into London and," he paused, gathering the courage to keep speaking. "I need a job, I was hoping to find luck here?"

"Oh, er..." Aziraphale licked his lips. "You see, I'm not exactly looking to hire anybody."

"Oh, please, it could be minimum wage, I just need something." Newton begged. He knew he couldn't go anywhere else without getting kicked out immediately, and he couldn't stay a witch hunter with a witch as a girlfriend. At least not under the bozo Shadwell.

"Well." Aziraphale let out a reluctant sigh. "I suppose I could figure something out for you."

"Oh, thank you Mr. Fell." Newton gave a thankful grin.

Aziraphale gave back a sort of smile. "Come back in the morning, I'll have something for you by then." Newton nodded in agreement at that. "Have a nice evening," he then added with a bit of a warmer smile.

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