If there was one thing Aziraphale didn't like about Crowley - if he put the whole thing about being a demon aside - it was the fact that Crowley didn't read books.

It wasn't that Crowley wouldn't like stories, culture or knowledge, no, he was always happy to accompany the angel to any performance (though he prefered the funny ones) or lectures the angel chose. Aziraphale still fondly remembered that afternoon when Milton scholars argued about how serpents moved before losing their legs and Crowley was laughing so hard they were asked to leave.

But any time Aziraphale had gifted him an actual book and then asked about it at their next meeting, the demon said he didn't find it interesting, lost it, it was stolen from him, forgot about it or came up with another reason he didn't read it.

But Aziraphale didn't lose hope. One day. One day he would find a book that the demon would like! And who knows? Perhaps it will spark an intrigue for books in the demon, or at least he would find a favourite author whose books he would like and talk about them with the angel.

Yes.

Aziraphale, Principality and Angel of the Eastern Gate, was on the case.

Mesopotamia, 2560 BC

"So, did you read the clay tablet I gave you? I think it was a very nice poem," said the angel and looked at his companion's new look. Why does he change them so often anyway? But that was not important - what was important was whether the demon read the clay tablet. Because somehow he didn't read those several previous ones Aziraphale had gifted him.

"Oh, yeah, that tablet, yeah. Sorry, lost it. By the way, have you heard that there is a new fish restaurant round the corner?"

Assyria, 650 BC

"That wax tablet was stolen from you?!"

"Yes, stolen, utterly and completely."

Egypt, 29 BC

"Crowley, hello. I heard about what happened with Cleopatra..." Just a year ago the Egyptian emperor took her life by a snake bite in order not to fall in the hands of Romans.

"Aziraphale, hi. Oh, yeah."

"Was it you who… you know?" the angel swallowed not knowing how to ask whether it was Crowley himself who did the biting. Aziraphale knew the demon was a friend of the smart and witty woman.

"What?" the demon blinked, "Oh, you don't know!" He laughed, "No, Cleo is alive and safe. We staged the whole thing. I, of course, insisted on a snake being involved to get more of them in history! Books about it are being written as we speak!" Grinned the demon.

Aziraphale smiled at him, "That reminds me though, have you read the papyrus I gave you? There was also a great story on it, though without snakes."

"Oh, that papyrus, yes, well… sorry, but… a camel ate it."

"A camel?"

"Yes, a big, hungry camel. I was walking down a street holding it in front of me and suddenly BAM, a camel yanked it out of my hands and ate it."

Aziraphale blinked. This was so far the most outrageous story. Nevermind, perhaps he will have luck next time.

Rome, 377 AD

"So many libraries are being built, isn't that wonderful, Crowley?" smiled Aziraphale at the demon.

"Wonderful, yes," said his companion and Aziraphale kind of mourned being able to see the serpent eyes. He understood why Crowley developed these dark glasses so people wouldn't stare at him because of his unusual eyes, but still, those eyes were truly unique and magnificent in their own way.

"Pergamon was truly a brilliant invention, my dear fellow. Did you happen to have a chance to look at the Illiad and Odyssey stories I gave you?" tried the angel.

"No, sorry, really busy. But hey, there's something happening at the Colosseum today, why don't we have a look?"

Germany, 1420

"Paper truly is better than pergamon, but still, it takes so much time before a transcription is made. I know I can miracle a copy if anyone needs it, but Gabriel keeps sending me these notes when I do that."

"He's a wanker," said Crowley and sipped the wine they agreed to share.

Aziraphale tried to glare at his companion, but didn't put much heat in it. The book-loving part of him certainly agreed.

"So, the Divine Comedy I gave you, did you like it?" Aziraphale was nothing if not tenacious.

"Oh, that book, yes. You see, I was reading it at the bank of Arno in Florence, and suddenly there was this man was reading with me over my shoulder. He then lamented that he had to go, since he was a banker and had some appointment to keep, but I gave him the book. His name was Giovanni di Bicci de' Medici. Who knows perhaps it will spark a love for art in him and his family line."

The angel blinked. This actually sounded truthful. And it was an action he would approve of.

"You did a good thing then," he smiled.

Crowley frowned and hissed at him.

Aziraphale continued, "Anyway there is another book-"

"PRINTING!" shouted Crowley cutting his friend off.

"What?"

"Perhaps a machine could be invented which would solve the problem of transcripting books. It would print the letters directly on paper, like a press. You would have to mastermind the invention, of course."

"Like a press..." repeated Aziraphale, lost in his head, all thoughts about recommending a new book to Crowley forgotten.

Crowley smirked.

France, 1793

"Those crêpes were truly magnificent, weren't they?"

"Mmm, you almost lost your head for them," said Crowley and poured more wine.

"Yes, I am glad you helped me to avoid the paperwork. By the way, have you read anything of Molière's?"

"No, but I like his plays - why don't we have a look if anything is on tonight?"

How could Aziraphale say no to that?

London, 1895

Aziraphale sighed when he ran his finger over Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray. He had a feeling Crowley would like this one. But they were currently not talking after their argument about Holy water.

Perhaps he could orchestrate for the demon to get the book at least somehow?

3 days later

Crowley looked at the book that his neighbour had left on his doorstep with a note of recommendation. His 'neighbour' who had the same penmanship as a certain angel.

The serpent sighed but smiled and went to the room he didn't use often. The room was bare - pretty much just shelves.

On the shelves there were books, scrolls, parchments, pergamens, wax tablets, clay tables and also some stones with engraved symbols.

The demon put the book on the shelf and left the room.

London, 1980

"Hastur took the book?!"

"Uhm, yes. He saw it laying on my desk and took it, yes. Probably looked very evil to him so he wanted it."

"Evil? The Hobbit?"

"Yeah."

London, 2019

Young tired man entered Aziraphale's bookshop, "Excuse me, do you also buy books?"

"Good morning! Well, that depends, I am certainly interested in books of prophecy," said Aziraphale warmly. He was in excellent mood. Since the Apocalypse didn't happen and they managed to fool their bosses neither Heaven nor Hell showed up.

"Uhm," said the man and rubbed his neck. "How about Terry Pratchett?"

"Oh, I do love Sir Terry," he did, the man truly was a brilliant wordsmith, a true craftsman with stories. There were several of his books in the bookshop. The angel of course gave a couple of them to Crowley, but as usual the serpent didn't like them. If Aziraphale's memory was correct, a llama was involved in the reason that time.

"You see, I'm moving and cannot take it with me and also trying to gather some money and..."

"Alright," agreed Aziraphale and smiled at the man.

To the angel's great surprise, what he received was not a classic book but several CDs - an audiobook. Terry Pratchett's Guards! Guards!. But since he had already agreed, he paid the man and took the case with the CDs. Oh well, he didn't try this Pratchett's work to give the demon yet.

That evening

"More wine?"

"Yes, please. Also, I have something for you," smiled Aziraphale.

"Oh, I-" Crowley slowly blinked, "CDs?"

"Yes, it's an audiobook. They read the book out loud. Though be careful about leaving it in your Bentley for more than a fortnight. If it still transforms anything to the Best of King."

"Best of Queen! Aziraphale, for Hell's sake," smiled Crowle, "and yeah, it does," he added fondly.

Two weeks later

To Aziraphale's great shock Crowley said one day, "He's really a great writer, you know, that Pratchett guy. I love his sense of humour. And I like the Vimes guy, and also Vetinari. Reminds me a little bit of Machiavelli. Do you remember Machiavelli, angel?"

Aziraphale was staring with his jaw hanging open.

"Angel?"

"You liked it?!" Aziraphale's brain did not compute. This was unprecedented! Did it finally happen?!

"Um, yeah?"

"Yes, Vetinari, yes, Machiavelli, yes, Vimes, YES!"

"Angel?"

"MEN AT ARMS!"

"What?"

"That's the next Pratchett's book in the Discworld's Watch series," he snapped his fingers and a book transported itself from the place in his bookshop to his hands. He thrust it at Crowley.

The demon didn't take it. "Uhm."

"Take it, read it, please. I've been waiting 6000 years to find books we could discuss."

"Oh... that's why you've been giving them to me? You want to discuss them?"

"Yes," said Aziraphale sheepishly.

"You never said! I didn't know that! If I did I would pay someone to read them to me."

"What?"

Crowley swallowed.

"My dear?"

"Look, angel, I… I don't know if it's because of the snake eyes or if something is different in my brain but I… I have difficulty reading written text. I have to really concentrate to do so and even so, sometimes I read a paragraph and don't know what I read or my head starts to feel foggy and hurt. Just reading the paperwork for Hell after writing it was a pain. So… I don't like reading. Like reading reading. But these audiobooks, that's really neat."

Aziraphale stared.

"But why you didn't tell me, my dear?"

Crowley shrugged and looked away not wanting to admit that he was too embarrassed to do so.

"Well, you didn't tell me you want to discuss them either. Just kept giving them to me."

"Yes, you are right," the angel nodded. "But, had I known I would have read them to you."

"Well, you still can. I kept them all."

"All?" Aziraphale smiled.

"Yeah, the only one I gave away was the Divine Comedy. I truly tried to read that one since it was about Hell, but gave it to the Medici fellow. But I stol-, ehm, bought it back from his son when his father passed away," Crowley grinned.

Aziraphale summoned wine glasses, wine, poured it and handed one of them to the demon, "To audiobooks?"

Crowley smiled, "To audiobooks."

London, 2019

Mr. A. Z. Fell was always considered as eccentric for his neighbours. Still, his bookshop was quite interesting - even though he always seemed to be doing his best for never selling a single book.

Since last year also a large snake could now often be seen in the bookshop, hissing at anyone wanting to make a purchase.

But the latest addition to bookshop was a peculiar one. One whole shelf was replaced by the audiobooks selection. Also not for purchase - the snake seemed to be even more protective towards those.

And there was a cd player regularly playing one of the audiobooks.

Often, it was a Pratchett one.