Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Bentley, no! Stop! The fuck are you doin'?"

Aziraphale felt a hand on his arm.

"Excuse me, could you stop for a second?" a silky Scottish baritone asked him. "My puppy's somehow wrapped his lead around yer cane. Might've tied it into a proper knot, too."

"Oh, I did feel something tugging on it!" Aziraphale smiled. "However did he manage that?"

"Nae idea. 'M sorry, he's faster than my reflexes, y'know how puppies are. Or ye might not, since you're... ngghhhh," the stranger stammered while trying to untangle the lead.

"My dear fellow, I do know how they can get," Aziraphale said jovially while turning towards the blurry, vaguely man-shaped blob next to him. It was tall, thin, and all black, with a bit of something red on top. Was it hair? Or maybe a hat? "I am not, in fact, blind, I just have extremely poor vision. Unfortunately, I broke my last pair of emergency glasses recently, and I thought it was safer for me to move around with a cane while the new pair are being manufactured. I'm actually just on my way to the optician's to pick them up." Oh, good Lord, why I am blabbering so much?

"I feel ye," the stranger muttered. "I was born with colobomas and a light sensitivity so bad I cannae take a step without sunglasses." He cleared his throat. "Listen... d'ye want us to go with ye? It'd be easier for ye than on yer own."

"Oh, that would be rather helpful indeed! Only if you don't have anywhere else to go, of yourse."

"Nae, just showing Bentley 'round the neighbourhood."

"Bentley? Isn't that a car?"

"It is. My favourite, actually. Too bad I'll probably never have one without selling a few internal organs, mine and other people's as well."

Aziraphale let out a mixture of laughter and shocked hiccups. "Now, now, I'm sure you're just joking."

"Ngk. So, where are we headed?"

"Victoria Street, if you don't mind."

"Got it. Name's Crowley, by the way."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Crowley. My name is Aziraphale. I know, it's quite a mouthful."

"Sounds properly angelic," Crowley drawled. "Suits ye."

"Oh, thank you," Aziraphale blushed.

"For fuck's saaaaake," Crowley groaned.

"Pardon me?"

"Sorry, nae ye. Bentley's just got himself wrapped around a lamppost."

Aziraphale giggled. "I'm starting to notice a pattern here. Maybe he's part snake."

"Aye, and the other part is idiot," Crowley scoffed, untangling Bentley's lead. Again. At the same time, the blonde's giggling did Very Interesting Things to his insides.

*

Crowley opened the optic shop's door and called in for an employee. "Hi, sorry, are dogs allowed in here?"

The young lady at the counter squealed a little. "Oh, my gosh! Uh, generally they aren't, unless they're service dogs, but your puppy is so damn cute! I have half a mind to break the rules!"

"I actually have a foldable carrier with me. Would we be okay that way?"

"I guess."

Crowley whipped out a canvas carrier, zipped Bentley into it, and hoisted him on his shoulder. He gently took Aziraphale's elbow and guided him inside the shop.

"Ah, Mr. Fell, welcome back!" the employee greeted him. "I'll be back with your glasses in a minute. Please, take a seat."

Once they sat down, Aziraphale started to fold his cane away when he felt a wet nose snuffling his hand which made him giggle again.

"Bentley, behave yerself," Crowley growled.

The young lady was indeed back very quickly, and she carefully placed Aziraphale's new glasses on his face for him. "Here you go. I hope you will be satisfied with them."

Aziraphale's world immediately cleared up. He took in the familiar displays of the shop, then turned towards Crowley and his breathing stopped. The man sitting next to him was simply beautiful, even with half of his face obscured by dark sunglasses. He had artfully tousled copper red hair, a roguish smile, sharp teeth, and freckles across the bridge of his slightly crooked nose, Aziraphale realised gleefully. He could perfectly see them! He was never more thankful for the wonder of optical correction, one of the best inventions mankind has ever come up with. The redhead was wearing a black button-down shirt with tiny snakes embroidered on it in some subtly shiny metallic black thread, which Aziraphale also could see perfectly.

"How is it?" the optometrist asked.

"Oh, it's absolutely marvellous!" Aziraphale beamed. "My vision is crystal clear!"

"How do I look?" Crowley asked with a sly smirk.

"Gorgeous," Aziraphale's mouth blurted out without permission from his brain.

Crowley's face turned redder than his hair. It was a rather charming look on him.

"Ngk," he replied eloquently.

The optometrist read the room and cleared her throat. "I'll be back with your paperwork in a moment, sir."

Aziraphale smiled at her. "Thank you, dear." He finally noticed the tiny black and white puppy beginning to doze off in the redhead's carrier bag. "Oh, my word!" he swooned. "Aren't you the most adorable thing ever?"

Bentley yawned straight into his face.

Aziraphale giggled. "Well, I suppose you've had a rather long walk for your age. No wonder you're so exhausted."

"Aye, I've only had him for two weeks, this was our longest walk so far," Crowley said.

"What breed is he?"

"Maltipoo."

"Beg your pardon?" Aziraphale asked with a confused frown.

"Maltese and poodle mix. Unfortunate name, I know, dunno who came up with it," Crowley shrugged.

"Ah, I see."

"There are actually a gazillion poodle mixes out there and they all have names ending in -poo," the redhead grinned.

"Dearie me," Aziraphale gasped. "Quite unfortunate indeed."

*

Once the paperwork was dealt with and they left the shop, Aziraphale turned to Crowley. "I am very grateful for your help. Please, you must allow me to invite you for tea or coffee some time. I insist."

"Sure, angel. What 'bout right now?"

"Angel?" Aziraphale asked quizically.

Crowley produced an interesting array of consonants that might have been actual words in a language Aziraphale has never heard of. "Nghhkhhh," he concluded.

"Are you all right, dear fellow? Do you need a lozenge?"

"Shuddup," Crowley grumbled with an adorable huff. He unzipped the carrier and put Bentley on the ground. "Show the way."

Aziraphale gasped upon his first full-body view of the puppy. "Oh, Lord. I didn't realise he only had three legs! Now I feel terrible for forcing you to walk all the way here," he fidgeted nervously.

"Nae need," Crowley smiled. "He was born like this, and it's not like anyone can stop him, he runs on industrial batteries."

"Are you sure it's not a problem?"

"Absolutely sure. He's in physical therapy anyway, and once he reaches his full size, he'll get a prosthetic leg."

"Oh, really? I didn't realise that's a possibility!"

"Aye, there are even wheelchairs for paralysed dogs."

"How fascinating!" Aziraphale cooed. "Oh, are you at it again?" he chuckled upon noticing how Bentley started wrapping the lead around his legs.

"I'm starting to think yer father was a corkscrew," Crowley grumbled to the dog before noticing that Bentley was actually winding the lead around both of them, effectively tying Crowley to Aziraphale like they were sharing a straightjacket. "Ummm," he croaked.

"Oh, my word," Aziraphale breathed. They were so close.

Crowley cleared his throat. "Maybe we should have that coffee first..."

"Right you are," Aziraphale replied with a rosy blush on his round cheeks. "Bentley, dear, if you would be so kind to spin the other way so I can take your master out?"