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"So, it's true, then." Muriel jumped at the sound of an unexpected voice, and nearly dropped the book they'd been reading. Their pulse* quickened as they swung around to face the speaker. Without thinking, they blurted the lines Mr. Crowley had instructed them to recite to any potential customers.
"I'm sorry, we're closed. The owner is away." Over the past few weeks, Muriel had grown to expect one of two responses to this: stuttered apologies or irate questions. Instead, this customer just nodded.
"Oh, I know. That's why I'm here." The slight man stepped forward, closing the distance between them. In the isle between two tall bookshelves, he began to slowly circle Muriel. They spun in one spot in order to continue facing him. "I'd heard that the new Supreme Arch-ness had scarpered off upstairs." Muriel's unease crystalized into a ball of ice in their belly. No human would know about that! And, the dark coat and tattered scarf he wore didn't look like a Heavenly uniform. This must be a demon!
"Imagine," the demon continued, "Leaving one low ranking foot soldier to guard all this. There must be books about anything and everything in here." He waved a hand at the dim interior of the bookshop. Muriel opened their mouth, determined to push words, any words, past the panic in their throat. It was their job to defend the bookshop, and they would not fail at this first test!
"Scr … scrivener." It was barely a whisper, but it had been said.
"What's that, foot soldier? I didn't catch it." The demon's circling halted. A mischievous grin curled the edges of his lips. He cocked his head to one side and brought a cupped hand to his ear. He leaned in, pretending to be straining to hear Muriel. One of the two soft spikes of his hair brushed against their hat. The sensation caused Muriel to instinctively raise their book as a shield between them.
"I said scrivener! I'm a scrivener, not a soldier!" Muriel surprised themself with the force in their own voice. It must have surprised the demon, too. He jerked back, and looked down at the book in alarm.
"That's not one of them heavenly tomes, is it? You're not going to read off some angel mumbo-jumbo and smite me, are you?" There was real fear in his voice. "Not sure I'd come back from that one." Muriel didn't know what the demon meant by "that one," but the sudden turn in the conversation knocked them off balance enough that the truth came tumbling out.
"No, it's a Post."
"Um, you think I'm stupid or something? That's clearly not a post. It's a book." The offence on the demon's face seemed so silly, Muriel almost laughed.
"Post is the author," they explained. "A human named Emily Post. See?" They turned the book around so that the front cover faced him. The gold lettering caught the light of a nearby lamp. Muriel tapped the shimmering title. The demon squinted at it. His mouth moved like he was trying to sound it out.
"Eh - tee - keht." Muriel ran their finger across the word, clearly pronouncing each syllable. This may be a demon, but Muriel couldn't help but explain. Everyone deserved to know about books. "It's full of helpful information on how to behave like a human."
"Why would you want to behave like a human? Aren't they supposed to want to behave like you lot?" The demon seemed genuinely confused.
"Well, if I'm going to be on Earth for a while, I might as well learn to blend in. At least, that's what Mr. Crowley says." Muriel gave a half shrug. "I thought I was already doing that, but…"
"Crowley?! Is he here?" The demon eyes darted to the shadows around them. Muriel had no idea why this demon would be afraid of Mr. Crowley. Sure, he could be grumpy now and then. But, he was never scary.
"Not at the moment," Muriel replied. The demon's shoulders visibly relaxed. "But, he'll be back later if you want to see him," they continued. The demon's shoulders shot up again.
"No. Well, it's more like I don't want him to see me." The demon stepped away from Muriel and walked toward the front door. "Do us a favor and don't let him know I was here, yeah?"
Muriel breathed a sigh of relief. They'd done it. They'd protected the bookshop from demonic invasion. They watched the demon to make sure he actually left, and that this wasn't just some trick. They knew that demons sometimes lied.
"Wait!" Muriel hadn't realized they'd even spoken until the demon stopped in the doorway. The bookshop door. The technically-still-an-outpost-of-Heaven bookshop door. It was open. "How did you get in?" Muriel demanded. "Only humans can walk through the door uninvited."
"A human let me in." The demon's tone was casual, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Muriel's confusion must have been obvious, because he kept talking. "The night we stormed the bookshop? Some human invited us all in. I guess it remembered."
Muriel didn't think the protections worked that way. But, there was something different about the bookshop compared to the other businesses on Whickber Street. None of them felt as, well, alive as this place. So, maybe it had decided to let him in? Muriel wondered why.
The demon hitched a thumb over his shoulder to point at the street behind him. "Look, I'm gonna go?" He paused, and Muriel got the sense he was waiting for them to do something. But, what? When they didn't answer, the demon turned to leave. "See you around, scrivener." A new sensation leapt up in Muriel's chest, swift and sharp. They realized that they didn't want him to leave.
"Do you like tea?" they called out. The demon stopped with one foot on the pavement outside the door. Muriel was suddenly very aware of the din of car engines and chattering people passing by. What am I doing?! I'm not supposed to talk to demons. Other than Mr. Crowley, of course. And maybe technically not even him, now that my assignment to assess the actions of Mr. Azira - the trait - the Supreme Archangel is cancelled…
"What?" The demon turned back to face Muriel.
"Only, I've just been reading all about how humans 'take tea'," Muriel held up their copy of Etiquette. They said the newly learned phrase carefully, being sure to get it right. "I'd like to practice before trying it with a real human, but Mr. Crowley doesn't like tea, and I thought you might…" They trailed off, not exactly sure how to proceed. The demon wore an odd expression, somewhere between uncertainty and curiosity.
"Yeah, alright." The demon shrugged. Muriel supposed it was meant to look nonchalant, but they thought they caught a bit of nervousness in the movement. What would Emily Post say about a nervous guest? She'd say it was the host's duty to make him feel comfortable. As the demon re-entered the bookshop, Muriel held out a hand.
"I'm Muriel. Nice to meet you." There was a moment of tense silence as the demon examined the extended hand. Then slowly, as if reaching out to something he wasn't entirely sure wouldn't burn on contact, the demon took their hand in his.
Muriel shook it the way they'd seen the humans do. Maybe a little more quickly than most, but with sincerity. When they released it, the demon didn't reply. Instead, he looked down at his half-gloved hand. The exposed fingertips flexed in, then out again. Muriel thought they heard a soft, "Wow." The tingly-bright feeling in their belly that fizzled in response to that was definitely not addressed by anything Post had written in Etiquette. But, determined to get this right, Muriel cleared their throat and continued on with what they had learned about human introductions.
"And you are?" Muriel kept their tone light and inviting.
"Eric." The demon said his name quietly, almost under his breath. When he looked back up at Muriel, he was smiling. This smile was not the smirky grin from earlier, either. This one was like the one Muriel often made when discovering a new, particularly pleasant Earthly thing. The feel of sunlight on their face, for instance, or the first time they'd heard a bird sing.
"You can all me Eric." That declaration came out more confidently. Muriel matched the demon's smile with one of their own. They gestured towards the back of the bookshop, leading Eric to the tiny kitchen that housed Muriel's new kettle.
"Did you know that most humans ingest tea?" Thanks to their reading, Muriel knew that it was their duty as host to start conversation. And what better to talk about when taking tea than the tea itself? "I prefer to just look at it. It's so pretty in a cup. I did try smelling it the other day, though, the way the humans at the coffee shop do when Nina hands them their order. Have you met Nina? She's a bit grumpy like Mr. Crowley, but she sells the most beautiful little cakes…"
Neither of the retreating forms noticed how the bookshop door closed on its own behind them. And later, when the gramophone began to play something soft and sweet, Eric asked Muriel if dancing was a thing you could do while taking tea.
*They'd been getting into the habit of letting their heart beat lately. If felt fluttery in their chest, and made them smile.