InsaneJournal

Mephisto had been feeling far better since Wednesday, and after yesterday's revelation, he had redoubled his efforts to pack as much of human life as he could into his schedule. He told Ariel that today, he'd take care of the shop on his own, so he was at Nemo's, a quaint little rare book store in the heart of London, filled with not just old, interesting books and the occasional grimoire, but artifacts of a mystical nature, which suited the proprietor and the fallen angel of hidden wisdom just fine.

When he felt Aziraphale return, all Mephisto could do was roll his eyes and huff a small chuckle. Of course the guardian of the east gate would find himself back. What baffled Mephistopheles, however, was that the damned little snake that often accompanied Zira was nowhere to be felt. Well, figured the fallen angel, if Zira had anything to say about it, he would. In his opinion, all the better. Crowley was a bother at best. He kept the shop open later than usual, and rang up customers in wait for Zira's arrival, while working on writing in his journal of human experiences, occasionally peering toward the door. Zira was one of the few angels that Mephisto could tolerate, if only because he'd spent just as long on earth as he had.