The Boy with the Books

Chapter One

"I don't see why we have to do this," muttered Aziraphale under his breath, "there must be some other solution. There simply must be."

"Not for us, angel." The demon sighed, wasting no time in rolling up his school uniform's sleeves, popping a few buttons open and loosening his necktie. "You know, if you wanted to be so convincing, you could've added some acne to that pretty little face of yours."

"Now, let's not be irrational, dear. There's no reason to be filthy, is there?"

"I'm just saying, if what you're going for is authenticity." Crowley clicked his tongue nonchalantly. He ran a hand through the raven hair, alarmed at the sight of it, but then remembered it was only temporary. Aziraphale's golden curls were also scheduled to disappear as soon as the mission was accomplished. You see, the angel had previously been given an assignment. Find the boy with the curly hair who sits alone in the school library and give him divine inspiration to write, Gabriel had said. It was a simple task, but Aziraphale could not bring himself to show up at a high school without a posse, and Crowley would be damned (again) if he wasn't the sole member of said posse. 

And how else were the pair going to stroll into a random high school and go unnoticed if not looking like the rest of the student body? Of course, it would've taken a major miracle to change their physical appearance, and a miracle it took. With a snap of the fingers, Aziraphale's white hair grew flaxen and he was suddenly but a pudgy sixteen year old boy with glasses and rosy cheeks. Crowley's hair and skin darkened, the latter to an olive tone that Aziraphale found quite fitting of him.

"Right." Said Crowley, holding his shades up to the sun and rubbing the lenses against his shirt till he considered them squeaky clean, "let's get to it, angel." And off they went, in search of the curly haired boy with the books, unaware of the obstacles the school walls would house.