[Good Omens] Envy the Subtle Serpent

Chapter Three

Aziraphale managed to hold off on a partnership with the Bodleian for another month after the tour, citing schedule conflicts and arbitrary concerns and a variety of other flimsy excuses as reasons not to move forward. Crowley was both surprised and impressed by his restraint. The angel had seemed to have such a good time on his tour, Crowley had almost forgotten how protective Aziraphale could be over his hoard of books. Yet despite his best efforts, the strong-arm of the director soon proved too great a match for the angel's adopted English courtesy, and he agreed to participate in a trial-run with the archives department.

The project started off slowly. So long as he was allowed to supervise the process, Aziraphale permitted the employees at the Bodleian to archive a select handful of his precious materials each week. Nothing too special, of course; some old Dickens correspondence and a few early drafts by some lesser 19th century authors to start off with, but the promise was there that if things went well, there would be more where that came from. Better, more exciting documents to contribute to the world wide web.

When first he learned of the partnership, Crowley offered to continue driving Aziraphale to and from the library. But the angel had refused on the grounds that the city of Oxford, with its tiny cobbled streets and lack of Bentley-sized parking spaces, was far better equipped for public transportation.

"Besides," Aziraphale had said, under the impression that he was being kind, "what would you do with me in there all day?"

The truth was, Crowley would probably have done the same thing regardless of whether he was at home in his Mayfair flat or parked outside in the Bentley, which was to say, mope about waiting for Aziraphale to return. Since this was an extremely pathetic answer, Crowley had agreed that he had better ways to spend his time, and that Aziraphale was probably right to opt for public transport. [1]

Following that conversation, Crowley begrudgingly relinquished his last means of control over the angel's protection. It was difficult, to say the least. Though they'd spent the majority of their six thousand years on earth apart, over the last decade or so Crowley had grown accustomed to being more or less within shouting distance of the other being. Spending an uninterrupted eleven years at the Dowling residence had altered his sense of personal space, to the point where a thirty minute drive by car suddenly seemed an insurmountable distance. And while teleportation was certainly an option, the unfamiliarity of the library's location and its geographic separation from London made that mode of transportation less predictable, and therein more difficult to rely on. With at least fourteen churches in walking distance of the library, one small miscalculation on his part could mean an accidental arrival on consecrated ground.

Deep down, Crowley knew that he needed to make peace with Aziraphale's newly regained independence. After all, it wasn't as though the Bodleian was inherently a dangerous place. The angel had been stationed in war zones before, and had gotten himself mixed up with far worse characters than a greedy bastard of a librarian. Plus, Crowley had to admit that Blackburn, while predatory, was not technically dangerous. At least not when compared to Nazi spies.

And, bless it all, Aziraphale was happy. Apparently he found the archives work rewarding, as he now had the opportunity to benefit and educate untold generations of future humans. Privately, Crowley suspected that the lure of the library itself had just as much to do with Aziraphale's change of heart. The Bodleian was one of the best stocked facilities in the UK, a virtual tinderbox of ancient manuscripts and special collections a bibliophile like Aziraphale could only ever dream of getting their hands on. Since he couldn't imagine supervising the archives process was what kept the angel there so many hours out of the day, Crowley had to assume he was using his new proximity to take full advantage of their collection. Still, that didn't change the fact that he was enjoying himself, and Crowley would rather fall all over again than be the one to take that happiness away from him.