I’m so sorry - this has been sitting in my inbox for far too long. Presenting a Flower Shop AU, with humans, as confirmed okay with you. :)
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Crowley looked up from his arrangement as the bell over the door jingled. “Welcome to Infernal Flowers and Gifts, how may I help you?” he said. The standard pitch, but the man who provoked it made him put a little more into the words. He was cute - and quite apart from that, he was interesting.
The man rumpled his blond curls, which didn’t need rumpling, and put his hands on his hips, looking around the shop. “Really, my dear fellow?” he said. “With a name like ‘Infernal’, I was expecting something a bit more demonic.”
Posh bastard, Crowley thought without any real heat. This guy looked like a professor, ancient jacket and all; ironic, really, since he was likely the only one in here with a terminal degree. “Not everyone knows what ‘infernal’ even means,” he said. “Most people are twits. What can I help you with, Mister…?”
“Fell. A.Z. Fell.” The man approached him, a smile shaping his already-round face into something even more cherubic. Something about the name pinged in the back of Crowley’s brain, but he dismissed it. Customers came before hunches. A guy had to be practical. “Isn’t this excellent service already! I’d like to buy an arrangement for one of my book suppliers. It’s coming on ten years since we began working together, and I want to commemorate the date with something special.” He twisted his hands together. “But for the life of me, I can’t think of what to ask for.”
Crowley grinned. “I can help you there. Come on, I’ll show you what we have.”
Fell went willingly, trotting alongside Crowley into the farther reaches of the shop. “Now,” he said, “I don’t know exactly what to get him. I’m not skilled with flowers like you are - oh, I’m dreadfully sorry, I haven’t asked for your name.”
“Crowley. Dr. Anthony Crowley, actually,” he said, just to be a bit of what Mum called davka.
“Oh! Doctor!” Fell executed a surprised little jump in place, like some kind of video game NPC. “Wonderful! I’ve been having the worst case of insomnia, and if it’s not too forward, I wonder what I could do for -”
“Not that kind of doctor,” Crowley interrupted for approximately the thousandth time in his sorry life. “I’m a botanist. This is technically my side job.”
“Is it? Hats off to you, my good fellow,” said Fell, and actually tipped an imaginary hat towards him. Crowley had had some weird customers before, but this one looked to be stuck in the 1950s. “What’s this?” He stopped in front of the display of dish gardens. “I do like these! What about something like this? Newton has an eye for rare and interesting things. He might enjoy a…”
“Dish garden,” Crowley supplied.
“Yes, a dish garden. He might enjoy that better than flowers.” Fell pointed at one. “Especially these ones with those plants - the cunning little pointy bits - what are they called?”
Crowley smiled. “Succulents. They’re my specialty.”
Fell cocked his head and scrutinized the dish gardens. “They’re very pretty,” he said. “Yes, I do think he would like one. How exactly are these your specialty?”
“Some of them have edible flowers,” said Crowley, feeling himself go into Academic Mode. For once, he had the sense that this man might appreciate it. “I’m working on a laboratory project to develop some that can grow in conditions of water scarcity. That‘s a bloody - sorry, really a concern these days.”
“That’s very clever!” said Fell. “Hmm, flowering plants…I like the idea of giving Newt a little garden.” He looked back at Crowley. “I’m sorry if this is too forward, dear boy, but might it be possible to order a custom arrangement? I don’t see any flowers in these, and Newt would be ever so happy with one.”
“Oh, yeah, more than possible,” Crowley said, flexing his fingers. They itched with the desire to create something new - no one had ordered anything custom in weeks. “How about I arrange some green and purple succulents around a flowering cactus? It’d be easy to take care of. Catch the eye, too. You think your supplier would like that?”
Fell clapped his hands. “Yes, yes, that’s perfect! Money’s no object, by the way. Do as you like. Oh, Newton will be so tickled! It ought to look like something out of a book.”
“Books!” Crowley snapped his fingers. So that was where he’d heard the name before. “You run the bookshop, don’t you? A.Z. Fell and Company, on Greek Street?”
If possible, Fell looked even more delighted. “You’ve heard of me?”
“Yeah. Everyone says it smells weird, but you’ve got the best stuff.”
“Ah, well.” Fell shrugged. “The smell can’t be entirely got rid of, I’m afraid. I inherited the building from my grandfather. It’s all right, I think it’s part of the charm.”
“Sure.” An inheritance was nothing to turn up your nose at, even if it did come with a mildew smell (and, according to some past customers, was possibly haunted). “I can have this ready for you in about two days. Would you prefer to pay now or later?” He’d had enough of both types of customers over the years that he’d amended his payment policy to be a bit more flexible. Pre-payment did sometimes allow him to get better plants for the customer in question’s arrangement.
Fell stroked his chin. “Now, I think. I’m certain you’ll turn out something wonderful.” He loosed that beaming grin on him again. Something inside Crowley turned to jelly. “What will it be?”
Crowley turned to lead him back to the till, running through costs in his head. “Fifty pounds,” he said. He grew the succulents himself, but custom arrangements with things he didn’t have - like a currently-flowering cactus - always cost a bit more. “I hope that’s all right.”
“Certainly, certainly.” Fell rummaged in his jacket and came up with a wallet that looked like it had lived through the Second World War. “Will you be insulted if I tip you?”
Crowley shrugged. “No.” People who balked at getting extra money were idiots.
“Then take a hundred, with my compliments. I’ve seen enough of your work to know I won’t be disappointed.” Fell handed him two notes. “You ought to take yourself out for a nice dinner, if you don’t mind my saying.”
“I might,” Crowley said, echoing Fell’s infectious smile. He went out to eat less than he’d like, and according to everyone who knew him, ate far less than he needed anyway. “Thank you. It’s very much appreciated, Mr. Fell.” He shook the computer awake with a flick of his mouse and opened up his software to document the arrangement.
“Please, call me Aziraphale,” said Fell. “It’s old-fashioned, I know, but it’s mine.”
Crowley tasted the name, smacking his lips a little. It tasted kind of delicious. “Aziraphale. That’s nice.”
The tips of Fell’s ears blushed. “Oh, ah. Jolly good. Would you mind if I…?” He took one of the sticky notes at the till, which Crowley kept there for indecisive customers, and scribbled something on it. “Ah, here. You needn’t - if you don’t want to, but I - I hope it’s not improper. And now I think I have to go. There will be people waiting for the shop to re-open.”
“Not at all,” Crowley said, and stowed the money in the register. “Come back in two days and it should be all ready. You know my hours.”
“Jolly good,” said Fell, and hurried out the door.
Crowley did indeed take himself out to dinner that night, and not for take-away curry (his usual standby). He chose somewhere lit by candlelight, mostly because if he wanted to take out Fell’s - Aziraphale’s - sticky note and look at the phone number he’d written there with a stupid grin on his face, there was less of a chance that someone would notice.
Number of Blankets: One comforter in summer, 2 or 3 comforters + microfibre blankets in winter, sheets are firmly in the Bad Texture column, like sometimes I even have to put a soft blanket down as my ‘fitted sheet’ bc even that will make my skin crawl on bad nights :P
Where I’m from: uuuuhhhhhhh.... Good question. Oregon, California, Texas, now Indiana? I moved almost every year growing up, but those are the big ones where I actually put down some roots.
Dream Trip: Edinburgh, Scotland, and Paris, France. Also London, but if I had to choose, Edinburgh would win. I got to go to Greece, Italy, and Slovenia recently, so those are a few places I had dreamed of visiting now checked off <3
When I started this account: Early 2012, I think?
Why I started this account: I was getting back into fandom via BBC Sherlock, and LJ was really dying, so this seemed to be the place to be.
Late night snack. Bilbo likes to have a snack before bed but he may have bitten off more than he can chew! (I drew peanut butter cookies even tho I know peanuts weren’t around the Shire. XD I just like the criss-cross pattern you make with a fork on top!)
W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.
- seme/uke, nagging wife/lazy husband (especially when applied on m/m and f/f ships but also with m/f ships), lolicon/shotacon (eeewwww), abusive tropes in general, born sexy yesterday
X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.
- fake/pretend relationship, pretending NOT to be in a relationship, established relationship, mutual pining, the one where you’re asked to take off all your weapons and the weapons just keep coming...
Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?
- Critical Role, the McElroys whatever that was, Voltron, Dungeons and Dragons...
