Chapter Text
BZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Crowley swam back up to conciousness at the same time his corporation hit his bed with a loud thud. Rolling over, he picked up his phone, ready to yell at whoever was on the other end of the line for waking him out what he'd intended to be a marathon sleep.
The problem was, the phone wasn't ringing and there were no recently missed calls. Staring at it in confusion, he noted the date, and that he'd been asleep for not quite three weeks.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
The minute the sound kicked in again, Crowley groaned. Of course... That's what he gets for making his ring tone the same as his door bell.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZZZ
"Argh.... LEAVE OFF WILL YOU?" Crowley grunted and pushed himself off the bed, swaying precariously to his feet. He stalked through his apartment, still dressed in his black silk pajamas, with his hair sticking up in every direction, and jerked the door open.
"Whot. Do you want?" The words were out of his mouth before he even saw who was standing at the door. When he did he groaned again. "Why are you lot here? How did you even find me?"
"Not difficult finding someone who drives a car like yours, luv. That thing stands out." Mrs. Sandwich stood in his doorway eying him critically before pushing her way through into his apartment, followed by Nina, Maggie, and... Muriel, who stopped at the entryway and dithered.
"May I come in?" The angel looked at Crowley hopefully.
"Of course you can, luv!" Mrs. Sandwich said from where she was standing several feet more into the apartment than Crowley, who was still holding the door.
Crowley squinted at Muriel for a moment before wobbling his head in a frustrated motion, "Ennnnrrrrhhhhhalright. Get in."
The angel beamed and walked past him allowing him to close the door.
He followed the women (and angel) into the living room and dropped gracelessly into a dark red leather chair, throwing a leg over one of the arms. "Now that you're in, would you mind telling me why you're here disturbing my nap?"
Mrs. Sandwich, Nina, and Maggie all took up spots on the sofa, with the brothel owner taking up the spot closest to the demon's chair. Muriel stood at the other end of the sofa, holding her hands clasped before her and shifting nervously from foot to foot.
Crowley squinted at the angel, noting she looked a bit like a child preparing themselves for whatever punishment was coming their way. He groaned again, stood up and went into the kitchen, dragging a chair back with him and placing it next to them. "You. Sit."
Then he went back to his seat, and stared at his 'guests'. "Why. Are. You. Here?" He wasn't about to offer any refreshments. He hoped their stay would be incredibly brief, and he was willing to be as inhospitable as possible in order to facilitate that.
It occurred to him that getting Muriel a chair was probably not the way to achieve his desired result. But it was too late for that now. The problem was, it was difficult to be too mean to them. It was like kicking a puppy.
" Mr. Crowley. Are you listening?" The voice was impatient and he realized he'd apparently tuned whichever of them was talking out.
"You'll have to excuse me. You did just drag me out of bed." He sneered at the trio on the couch.
"Wow. You are in a bad mood." Nina interjected. "Mrs. Sandwich was telling you why we were here. But it seems like our concern is unwanted. So maybe we should just go."
"Now now, Nina, Luv." Mrs. Sandwich interjected. "It won't hurt you to play nice every once in a while. Probably do you some good."
She turned to Crowley. "We're here, because of that one over there." She nodded toward Muriel, who looked rather uncomfortable.
"Wot'bout'em?" Crowley mumbled, eyeing the angel.
"Well now. It didn't take us long to notice that Mr. Fell hasn't been around, has it? So we go over to the bookshop to see what's going on and find this one sitting there, all by themselves looking the exact part of someone who knows nothing about running a shop. Still wearing that constable costume, too."
Crowley snorted.
"So, we ask her. 'Where's Mr. Fell?' And she tells us he was called back to the office... whatever that means... and she's been put in charge of the bookshop for now. But then Nina remembers seeing you leave three weeks ago... without Mr. Fell, after they'd had a discussion with you about the two of you getting your act together. And it looked like the conversation the two of you were supposed to have didn't go so well.
Crowley grunted at that and stared resolutely at the ground. "He had... things to take care of..."
"That wasn't you. I know, Luv. So you came back here and decided to sulk for weeks on end." Mrs. Sandwich leaned closer. "But the thing is, this one over here. They really do know nothing about running that shop. I don't think I've ever seen it open in the three weeks."
Crowley was about to tell her that was probably for the best anyway, but she pushed forward. "Now, I know Mr. Fell never did keep normal store hours. And I'm not sure I've seen anyone ever walk out of there with a book in hand. But that store has been there, and open when people seem to need it open. And the fact that it's not now is bringing everyone down."
" Mr. Crowley..." Maggie picked up where Mrs. Sandwich left off. "We know you don't run the bookshop. But we know no one else is as close to Mr. Fell as you are. If anyone knows how he'd want things handled. It's you. You can help Muriel get their bearings. Until Mr. Fell gets back."
Crowley rubbed his hand over his face. "I can't go back to that bookshop. Now... Ladies... If you don't mind." He stood and gestured toward the door.
To his surprise, none of them attempted to argue with him. They all stood and began walking toward the door, leaving Crowley sitting alone.
But before fully exiting, Nina turned back and said in a tone far more gentle than he was used to hearing from her. "You know. The night... everything... happened. You said 'a lot of things are wrong right now'. A lot of things are still wrong, and one of those is that neither you nor Mr. Fell is in that bookshop. Muriel is a sweet person. But, you and Mr. Fell... well... it's just not the same. Maybe you can help make sure Muriel keeps the shop how Mr. Fell likes it. 'Til he's back."
With that she followed the rest out and closed the door. Crowley sighed and waved a miracle at the door, relocking it. He didn't bother moving, but just sat there, staring at the floor.
***
Three days later, Crowley found himself standing on the sidewalk leading into the bookshop, Staring up at the A. Z. Fell and Co. sign, the Bentley parked in her usual spot in front of Nina's cafe.