fandomtownies | Rare Books Shop, Sunday

Rare Books Shop, Sunday

The shop opens a little late today, probably due to a fighting-and-making-up-session from the night before. But the tea and scones are in the lounge and there's Duke Ellington playing softly on the stereo.

[EDIT: The shop is closed and locked up for a while following Wilson's comment. Anyone who wants to stop in, please just mark your comment as taking place before Wilson's. :)]

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Browse, read, buy.

Tea, scones, fish.

Advice and butterscotches.

Michael closed up shop for a little bit and went to seek the advice of the one person he thought might be able to offer sone. He opened the door to the bookstore and stepped inside, warming up a little before taking off his coat. He'd finally gotten it fixed into his head how to pronounce the man's unusual name. "Aziraphale?"

((ooc: will be sp but wanted to toss him in.))

Aziraphale walks out into the outer shop from the lounge, carrying a cup of tea. "Good day, my dear. Tea?"

[OOC: NP! :)]

Michael contemplated the idea for a moment. "No, thank you. I should get back to the shop soon. I just wanted to ask a few questions. Has Ben come by to see you lately?"

"Yes, he was here just the other day, looking for some research material for his writing. Why do you ask?"

Aziraphale gives Michael a concerned look. "Is everything all right?"

"But he didn't ask for advice, or ask you about anything?" Michael bit his lip. "Belgium, maybe?" He shook his head. "I'm not sure if everything's all right. That's kind of why I'm asking."

"No...he didn't mention Belgium. He said he was working on something he'd set aside for a while, and he wanted some reading material that would give him an opposing perspective."

Looking at Michael quietly for a moment, he says, "Are you certain you wouldn't like to sit down and tell me what you think might be wrong?"

Michael took a seat in one of the chairs, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "Ben asked me to get something for him off his desk, and... there was an e-mail on his computer. And I read it." Michael frowned, hugging himself. "It was an job invitation. For a university in Belgium. But he hasn't talked to me about it."

Sitting down nearby, Aziraphale frowns and sips at his tea. "He hasn't mentioned anything at all to me about a job, or about wanting to leave Fandom. Perhaps...he hasn't mentioned it because he isn't interested? Or perhaps he hasn't found the right time."

Considering the idea for a moment, he adds, "If he comes in again, Michael, I can try and encourage him to tell you. But...I think you should ask him yourself."

"I know. I just..." Michael shivered. "I don't want him to think I was snooping. I wasn't trying to." He studied the floor. "Some years ago, Ben wanted to go to Tibet to study Buddhism. He was going to leave for six months. I was going to let him go -- it was what he said he needed -- but he eventually decided not to." He looked up. "The offer sounded like he was thinking about the job seriously. I don't know that I can live without him for a while."

"Then why not go with him, Michael? If you believe he really is serious about this job, and if you both think it would be something good, then go with him. Perhaps that's why he hasn't mentioned it -- because he's worried you won't want him to leave but that you also won't want to go with him."

"I'm not sure I could go with him -- immigration laws and all that stuff." Michael's frown deepened. "I don't want to hold him back, either. I know he's been restless here." Tears came to Michael's eyes. He couldn't look at the angel. "I know I need to talk to him, that it's our thing to deal with. I'm sorry I'm laying all of this on you. I'm just...scared."

"Not at all, Michael. I'm happy to help if I can."

He reaches across and lays a hand on Michael's arm. "You can get a visa, I think, to live there for a while. I'm certain you could get that arranged. And perhaps a work visa after that. It might be worth a try, just to see?"

Michael nodded. "Assuming he wants me to go, that is." He gave a wan smile. "It's been a rough couple of weeks." Months, actually. Years, maybe.

"I'm certain he wants you to go, Michael. And perhaps getting away someplace new -- and less unusual -- is exactly what the two of you need."

"I wish I had your certainty. Hell, I wish I had anybody's certainty." Thinking about the first word of that last sentence and who he was talking to, Michael blushed a bit. "Just going to have to get some balls and ask." He stood, slowly, his arms still folded. The shop was warm, why was he suddenly so cold? "Thanks for listening to me whine. I appreciate your patience."

Aziraphale stands as well, giving Michael a concerned frown.

"You weren't whining, Michael. I can understand why you're worried, why you're frightened. And I wish I could tell you how it's going to turn out. But I do think the best thing is for you to talk to Ben about it. Trust me on this, not talking about it will make it much worse."

He steps up Michael and gives him a gentle hug. "You can come and talk to me anytime you want."

Michael returned the hug. "Thanks. I appreciate it." His face was still a little pale as he put on his coat and prepared to leave. "You are quite an asset to Fandom, you know that?"

The angel gives Michael a heartfelt, although slightly embarassed, smile.

"That's so kind of you, my dear. Thank you. I really do hope everything works out properly for the two of you."

"Thanks." With a final wave, Michael left the store.

At some point, the shop phone began to ring.

The shop phone never rings, which is why it takes Aziraphale a moment to realize what the sound is. Frowning, he moves across the shop and picks up the receiver.

"Er...hello?"

At any other time, Wilson would have teased Phale about needing to get used to the idea of telephones but at the moment, he wasn't thinking beyond one minute to the next.

"Raphale..." He began in a voice that was hoarse from shouting, tight with emotion. "I...House...I need your help."

That was really all the angel needed to hear. "I'm on my way, James. I'll be there in a moment."

He hung up the telephone before Wilson could speak again. Not bothering with his coat, he headed quickly out the door, glad that the shop was empty. The door locked with a click behind him, the sign changing to 'Closed', and he headed for the school.

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Rare Books Shop, Sunday

BOOKS

LOUNGE

AZIRAPHALE

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