Sometimes it's Just Too Easy

Chapter 1

The shop door opened and closed, the sound of whispering announcing the presence of... customers.

Crowley grinned at Aziraphale from where he lounged in the recliner he'd long ago claimed as his. "Time to sell some books," he said.

The angel scowled, placed his mug of cocoa on the table a little harder than necessary, and briskly walked into the main shop. Crowley snickered at the angel's gruff greeting. Why he even bothered pretending to be a shop when it was more like a hoard was beyond the demon; it's not like he needed the money. He could just get himself a nice big house with a library and not have to worry about stubborn patrons with collections of their own making off with his precious books.

"Yes, hi, are you the owner of this store?" a man asked loudly. American, judging from the accent.

Aziraphale's reply was clipped, but he confirmed he did indeed own the place.

"Have you noticed any... unusual activity?" Another American piped in, just as loud as the first man. Crowley thought they both sounded rather... haughty. Very high-and-mighty. Typical of Americans, really, he thought.

"Like what?" Aziraphale's voice was a little higher now.

"Flickering lights, cold spots..."

"Tapping in the walls, sulfur smell?"

"Books falling off the shelves by themselves?"

They even finished each other's sentences.

The turn of conversation had piqued Crowley's attention though. He sat up and leaned forward, listening a little closer.

"No, no, nothing like that," Aziraphale squeaked. Crowley could clearly picture him waving his hand dismissively.

A mischievous grin slowly split the demon's face. He blew gently in the direction of the door leading to the shop, sending a chill with it. He moved to lean in the doorway, wanting to watch the interaction.

The two men standing with the angel were rather unremarkable to the demon. Both were of average height and stood like they were trying to be professional. They looked anything but. One had dark brown hair and wore glasses, while the other had black hair. Glasses-man wore a dark brown jacket. The other fellow wore a light vest decorated with a few pins. Crowley's immediate thought was "nerds".

Aziraphale shot the demon in the doorway a dirty look as the cold spot hit them and the two men shared an excited look. Crowley shrugged innocently as a pile of books on the desk flew onto the floor. He'd pay for that later, he was sure, but this was too good an opportunity to miss. The expression on the angel's face changed from one of annoyance to something that promised retribution. A shiver ran down the demon's spine; he loved it when Aziraphale looked at him like that.

"Ed and Harry, professional paranormal investigators. We were on vacation when we heard there was demonic activity in the area," Glasses introduced, indicating himself as Ed.

"Professionals," Harry repeated.

Glasses – Crowley thought it was much better name – presented a business card.

"Ghostfacers?" The angel asked after examining it.

"That's right," Harry said.

"We'd like to investigate the store. Demonic... interference can be quite dangerous," Ed continued.

Crowley sauntered over at this point, hands in his pockets as he casually peered at the card over Aziraphale's shoulder. The Americans gave him a startled look, as if they hadn't noticed him in the doorway behind the store owner.

"Be a dear and pick up those books for me, would you?" Aziraphale asked, voice dripping with false sweetness.

Crowley flashed the group a smile and did as instructed, dropping them with a loud thump and earning himself another sour look from the angel. He turned back to the 'Ghostfacers'. "I'm sure I'll be fine. I've never had a problem before-"

A bookshelf teetered dangerously and Aziraphale rushed to steady it. He turned so the Americans couldn't see his face and mouthed "Don't you dare," to the demon leaning the edge of his desk.

"We won't get in your way," Glasses promised. "We have experience with these things. We can have the entity gone in no time."

Aziraphale turned back around and gave them a winning smile. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. I close in three hours; why don't you come back then?"

Ed and Harry enthusiastically agreed, their excitement starting to crack their false professionalism. Crowley had the distinct impression they were moments away from jumping up and down. They hurriedly left, whispering about gear and the two of them.

"What kind of a douchebag wears sunglasses inside?"

Crowley smirked.

"You, my dear, are in a lot of trouble." Aziraphale snapped the moment the humans were gone.

"Oh please. Sulfur? They've clearly been messing with the lower demons. I seriously doubt they know anything about Fallen angels."

Aziraphale's eyes narrowed. "I didn't mean from them."

Crowley shivered again. "Oh really?"

The angel was across the room in moments, both hands gripping Crowley's lapels and shoving him backwards through the door into the flat. It swung closed behind him. He spun them around and slammed him against the wall. It was quite interesting being on this side of the interaction, the demon thought.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snapped. "Encouraging paranormal investigators? If word gets around this place is haunted, we shall never have a moment's peace!"

"Relax, I'm just having a bit of fun! Those two dunces could never be credible in the paranormal community." Crowley shrugged. "They're way too easy to excite."

Aziraphale pressed against him harder. "Don't you ever abuse my books like that again."

"Or what?"

"There will be consequences."

Crowley scoffed. "Oh yeah? What're you going to do, press me against the wall and scold me?" He rolled his hips into the angel. "That doesn't exactly deter me."

A dangerous smile spread over Aziraphale's face. He leaned in so his face was next to the demon's. His breath was hot against Crowley's ear. "I'll compliment your plants."

Crowley gasped in horror. "You wouldn't!"

The angel leaned back again, still smiling. "I would. Don't mess with my books." He released Crowley and wandered back to his mug of cocoa.

The demon pouted. "Aww, come on Angel," he whined.

Aziraphale sipped his drink and just passively watched as Crowley slunk towards him.

"We've got three hours until they come back," the snake said hopefully before kissing his angel. "You could close early-" he began peppering kissing up his jaw. "-punish me properly-"

Aziraphale tilted his head slightly, giving his partner better access to his neck. "Go on," he hummed.

"We can enjoy some time before they take over," he murmured into his skin.

"Mhmm..."

Crowley moved up to his ear, a triumphant grin already forming. "Let's lock the door and head upstairs..."

Aziraphale stepped back. The demon looked at him in confusion as the angel smiled sweetly. "No."

"Wha- why not?" What on earth just happened?

The principality sipped his cocoa again and began walking back towards the main shop, flashing him a smug grin over his shoulder. "You're in trouble."

Well.

Damn.