FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Summary:

When Crowley receives an unexpected call from Agnes Nutter reporting that her book of Nice and Accurate Prophecies is missing, he and Aziraphale are reunited after many years, working together on an unexpected yet welcomed trip back into London. Crowley finds himself confronted with more questions about morality than any demon could have anticipated. Who knew a rare book could contain so many vengeful spirits? And why does Aziraphale care so much about it in his library, when nowadays you can just torrent it online? Post-cannon and ever-so-slightly gay.

Notes:

This story was conceptualized and started as of late April 2019. Some details/plot points may be changed or altered in the upcoming T.V. show based on the book and therefore be odd to people reading this after the show comes out. It's odd nonetheless. However, this fanfic AU is solely based upon the book.

"Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving." -** Terry Pratchett**

Chapter 1

It's dark, and Crowley is sprinting on all-fours through the forest, the air passing through his long, black and red matted fur. The stars are shining brightly overhead, and the hoot of an owl echos from the tallest dark evergreen with a chill. Crowley is simply letting himself loose, running down a winding dirt trail towards the owl and panting heavily. He halts with his paws and a cloud of dirt rises upwards. He focuses his blazing red eyes upon his great brown bird prey, and exhales as he leaps with his sharp claws to jump up onto the evergreen. Suddenly, he unsheathed his claws and collapses to the ground with a "THUMP!" With some white and brown feathers stuck in his bright red blood-colored claws. He realizes that the owl's hoots, aren't hoots. They are a cry, a plea in a familiarly English accent. Crowley can only let out a small whimper of nervousness before he realizes who it was from.

Crowley, the chap called out.

Crowley.

Crowley.

"Crowley!" The owl screech pierced his ears as they started ringing .

"A-Aziraphale? Is that you?" Was all he could muster, dumbfoundedly.

But no response came as the owl's amber gaze locked with his as it spun around and turned a full 360 degrees before flying far away into the stars..

Crowley's eyes snapped opened as he bursted awake. Crowley's heart is racing as he anxiously breathes in and out, but surprised to find his claws with no feathers caught in them and a song by The Cure Being played to the tune of Queen's "Under Pressure" on his Bentley car's radio. There's the musty and humid feel to the car, but the black liquorice air freshener helped to make it smell nice for a bit. Even through his sunglasses, the blinding white afternoon light coming through the car's main window still hurts. His neck aches and cramps, and there's moist and beads of sweat trickling behind his black furry neck as he sits upright groggily to observe his surroundings. Crowley lowers down the volume knob. He's parked in front of an office building, and releases a long exhale as he recalls why he was there, just another monotonous casual delivery of mischief throughout the office building so he had something to report to the other demon wolves of other time eras. Maybe a power outage or stopping the WiFi, or making the annoying co-worker act extra annoying, he couldn't say what he wanted to do specifically. Crowley reminisced longingly about his younger days when there were adventures to be had in spreading mischief and mayhem around the world. But now? He wasn't exactly sure that's what he wanted to do for the rest of his eternal existence. Especially after having an admittedly begrudgingly delightful time saving the world from Armageddon with Aziraphale all those decades ago. This was his job, though! His sole purpose for existing: to spread chaos in the 21st century, even if the older wolf-demons thought his ways of carrying them out were strange or lamer than the rest of theirs, and seemed to almost pity him. He also subconsciously knew that he could never risk challenging his higher-ups to become a demon of his own volition, it was unheard of. Nearly every other demon took a malicious pleasure in what they did, so why was he having doubts about his? Adam Young didn't have to fulfill anything, as the son of the all-powerful Antichrist he had chose to save the world instead of completing the prophecy. But could Crowley do the same, even if it disappointed everyone's expectations? He lost his train of thought as 2 huge brown claws pressed on his windows and rattled his Bentley back and forth as Crowley couldn't help but to think of the smudges that were left on his car windows. "Hey! Be careful you absolute monster! This is MY Bentley!" He blurted. A deep, booming voice bellowed. "This is the police. You've been parked out here overnight." The claws pointed to a sign that read "NO OVERNIGHT PARKING. IF PARKED OVERNIGHT, YOU WILL BE TOWED."

"Luckily for you, there was no night patrol last night. I'll let you go for now, but don't get comfortable here. I'll be back to check if you're still here.. and if you are well then this Benny-mobile gets CRUSHED!" He made a punching motion and Crowley looked horrified and disgusted. Not the Bentley. Anything but the Bentley. Crowley quickly agreed, and the bear trudged away, lumbering back into the office building. Crowley took back all those thoughts he had about chaos-spreading being lame, and slinked out of his car to stealthily follow the bear cop. This was truly Crowley's finest hour as he caught up with the bear and hid behind him as he passed by, and greeted all the coworkers, sitting innocuously behind their plain wooden desks with dusty coffee mugs with computers. It was a hot summer day in London, and what a better punishment than breaking the AC. As soon as the bear passed by an air vent, Crowley took his serpent form and slithered in as he found the box and poured his steaming venom all over it while biting down with his sharp, massive white glittering fangs until it stopped running after about 10 seconds. He slithered back out into the room and out of the building using automatic doors. He sprinted to his car as a wolf-demon and quickly checked his phone to see that he had missed a call from Agnes Nutter. Oh, what does that old cat hag want to do with me anymore? Crowley rolled his eyes. He couldn't help but to make a quick call back to her though. The phone rang, and Crowley prayed to Satan that the bear cop would be too busy chatting with some coworker to come back to the Bentley and notice what had happened. "Yes?" A hoarse lady's voice croaked. "Yes, this is Crowley. The "lone" wolf who helped saved the world with that dutchie angel sissy due to that prophecy book of yours. Whadda ya want?" He said, slightly bemused. Agnes purred, but abruptly stopped midway, as to remember something. "Yes. About that." She spoke promptly. "Well, to put it bluntly, it's umm... missing." "WHAAAT?" Crowley roared. He wondered if Aziraphale knew about this. Agnes continued calmly. "Well, I was hoping you wouldn't mind driving a couple cities over to London so my old friend Saffy could roughly predict the whereabouts of the book but umm.." Agnes trailed off, probably forgetting what she said out of sheer nervous panic of losing the rare book she'd held near and dear ever since she was a tiny witch-in-training. "I'd drive 200 miles on this baby just to see Aziraphale, honestly. Could use the company, I'll be on my way soon. Bye." Agnes said her farewells, and Crowley hung up and played David Bowie's "Moonage Dream" to the tune of "Who Wants To Live Forever" by Queen and there was no stopping him now. *Or ever.

*Well, until he reached London, of course.

When Crowley finally reached Aziraphale's rare book library he heard a series of high-pitched squeaks as Aziraphale greeted him. "Oh my god! Crooooowley! I missed you sooo much!" He squealed, and embraced Crowley. "So, how are you like liking that demon job of yours? Hmm?" He said teasingly, nudging his elbow. "Eh. It's alright." Crowley shrugged stoically when he responded, despite internally feeling a little bit of a feeling of mutual reciprocation deep, deep down inside for seeing his old friend again. Demons weren't exactly hating angels, but weren't really supposed to be best buds either. "D'aww! Lighten up, Crowley! Agnes's friend Saffy came to visit us, please do come inside! Aziraphale exclaimed excitedly. Aziraphale quickly led the way down the entrance and stopped at a coffee table on the left side of the room with 4 carved wooden chairs. Aziraphale sat down quite gracefully beside Agnes and Saffy, who looked like two hairballs of mangy brown and black fur compared to the exquisite blue and yellow colors of spots on his white as snow fur. He tilted his head to indicate that Crowley sit down beside him. So, Crowley sat down. Aziraphale cleared his squeaker. "So, you've probably heard right now what happened to the book, right? Crowley nodded. Aziraphale continued. "Well, Saffy says she can find the book using her own powers since she's related to the witch powers of Agnes Nutter but I do warn you that it is quite wonky." Aziraphale turned his head to Saffy and dipped it. "Is that right madame?" Saffy reluctantly agreed. "Well, alright then! Let's see what you got, girl." He said merrily and waited while fidgeting anxiously. Saffy concentrated on closing her eyes, and after awhile said "Check behind the register in the first bottom cabinet, it should be there." She said confidently. Aziraphale got up, walked behind and checked the cabinet. "Nada. Nothing." He said, confused while walking back and taking a seat. Crowley was bored, so he left Aziraphale and the rest behind to go talk to some potted plants. "Oh okay! Let me try again then." Saffy reassured. Moments passed before she said "Oh! I know this! Check in the back with the boxes of rare book copies titled 101 Cursing Spells for Dummy Witches. It should be on top somewhere." She spoke quickly. Aziraphale checked there, too. "No luck, Saffy. Sorry." 7 times over it occured, and Aziraphale checked nearly everywhere in the back book storage area before Saffy finally predicted right. "Umm.. I think you might have a revolving bookcase somewhere in he-" She stopped midway when Aziraphale pulled a book out, spun around and came out the other side with the copy the book. "Hey Saffy! I got it! Awesome job! Alright now Crowley, let's see what the book says, for old time's sake, eh?" Crowley appeared indifferent, but was actually pretty nervous. He couldn't refuse a chance to see what the future held, even if it was a couple of lines. Not even wolf-demons had that power. It was too late to go back though, as Aziraphale had already plopped the book open in front of Agnes and Crowley. All three of them blacked out.

The next thing they knew, they woke up in a whole other world.

Aziraphale stuttered. "U-u-um, pardon Crowley?" Crowley grumbled something under his breath. "What is it, angel." "Where am I?" He said cowering. "Shush! That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out, I'm sensin-" "WATCH OUT!" Aziraphale screamed and jumped to protect Crowley, but there was no need to, as Agnes pulled out a wand and chanted a spell as a green explosion of light was omitted. When the explosion ended, Agnes spoke angrily. "Somebody CURSED this book! Do you fools even know what that means?!" Both dutchie angels and wolf demons were never educated about cat witches, they were a whole other entity. Both shook their heads no.

"It means we'll be trapped in a book world forever and ever!" Agnes wailed and threw down her staff. "Yes. You may as well give up now.You 3 are always, forever and utterly alone." said a voice coolly, from behind. "Azira! You reassure Agnes and make sure she doesn't lose her staff!" He called out. "I'm going to go exorcise some ghost-butt." He cracked his knuckles and cackled.