This is going up un-edited and at 1 o'clock in the morning. Please excuse all spelling/ooc/grammar/whatever. Did this on a whim. Will most likely be continued, we'll see. Rating may change.

Do not own any fandoms….besides a tumblr….

Aziraphale reorganized his receipts, completely unaware of his repetitive motions. This was the third time today that he had done this, the fourth time that week that he had found himself in this kind of daze. Soon to be the fifth.

He glanced at the door, the shop sign flipped to closed, hoping for a certain someone to come strolling in. After a minute, Aziraphale sighed and restacked his receipts. He considered doing a little dusting, but dismissed the thought for a cup of tea instead.

The steam from the fresh tea curled around him as he sat delicately on the old couch in the back. Out of sight of the door, he strained his ears for any sign of approach.

He thought back to the Apocalypse-that-never-was and smiled. It had been stressful, and he still cringed at his behavior to the Metatron, but Adam was a good kid so he wasn't that worried. Aziraphale thought about all that he and Crowley had talked about and all that they had done together. It was interesting to raise a kid (even the wrong one) and wondered if they would ever have a chance to do anything like that again.

Aziraphale sipped his tea anxiously. It had been almost two weeks since he and Crowley had spoken after that day. The first week was understandable, both Above and Below were sending them on all kinds of goose-chasing missions. Aziraphale assumed that anyone but he and Crowley was upset with the way things had turned out and were just trying to keep them from being to proud of themselves. Pride being one of the major sins, Aziraphale wasn't too upset by the increase of work, but the missions had tapered off and had been waiting patiently for Crowley to be free too. They were due a congratulatory drinking binge. There was this nice little café in Italy Aziraphale wanted to visit again…

The front door bell jerked Aziraphale to the present, almost spilling the tea all over.

"I-I'll be there in a second dear!" He set his tea down carefully before bursting into the storefront.

Standing in the middle of the shelves stood a scruffy looking man, his hands all over his precious books. The angel felt a most un-angelic combination of disappointment and anger at the innocent stranger. Aziraphale recovered quickly and smiled his best angelic, get-your-hands-off-my-books smile.

"Hello, can I help you today sir?" The angel's smile could turn a car-salesman's stomach. The man just smiled back unperturbed, returning the book to it's spot. Aziraphale couldn't help frowning a little at the disturbed dust standing out around the book.

"Ah, actually I was just looking for some information. Well, not information really, more directions. Well, maybe a bit of both." The man stuffed his hands into his big brown overcoat. He had a pin striped suit underneath from what Aziraphale could see and his brown hair was scruffy looking, most likely from running his hands through it nervously. As the angel was giving him the once over, the man had started rocking back and forth in his trainers.

Aziraphale shook his head and smiled again. "Well, there is a nice little café around the corner that sells really good maps." Something was wrong here. There was just something about this man that wasn't right; something not normal.

The man scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Ah, actually, it's not that simple. You see I…." Aziraphale zoned out and focused more on what he was seeing. It was incredibly rude of him, but he felt he was vindicated in just looking closer. Something inside shifted as Aziraphale turned up his senses. Nothing incredibly odd with what he looked like, besides his eyes. There was a deep sadness in them that didn't seem to match his young appearance. And…and there was something else. Heedless of the fact that the man had stopped talking, Aziraphale closed his eyes.

There. A faint rhythm outside the norm. Ba-ba-ba-bum. Ba-ba-ba-bum

"You have two hearts." Aziraphale opened his eyes to find that the man was pointing some kind of pencil device at him. He looked at it quizzically, then back at the man. "Who are you?" The man raised an eyebrow, and smirked.

"Well, that's new. It's been a while since I met someone new." He put away his…whatever it was….and extended his hand to the angel. "Nice to meet you, I'm the Doctor."

"I'm Ezr-, uh, Aziraphale. It's a pleasure to meet you dear." They shook, a genuine smile on the angel's face this time. "I've never met a Gallifreyan before, this is a treat. Can I get you some tea? It's fresh." Aziraphale didn't wait for a response, but simply headed towards the kettle.

The man—The Doctor, followed behind with a funny grin, bouncing around like an excited puppy. "That's brilliant! You know who I am but don't know who I am. There hasn't been some other bloke with two hearts wandering around has there?" The angel smiled serenely and handed the Doctor his cup.

"No, sorry dear. Is he who you're looking for?"

"Ah, no. You see I was traveling when my, uh, ship was pulled in by some really large energy signals. Like, end of the world large." He checked his watch. "Although, I might be a bit early….is that late?" The Doctor glanced over at Aziraphale who had gone grey. The Doctor's face fell.

"I'm late." Aziraphale jerked a little before smiling again.

"No no dear, not late. Well, yes, it has already happened, but we're all just ducky. There's nothing to worry about." The Doctor was still a bit perturbed, but something about the other man's clear, piercing blue eyes calmed him. He suddenly became hyper again.

"Well, that's good to hear. I'll just, uh, I'll just go and take a look-see then. See if everything's, ah, ship-shape and all that." Aziraphale watched the Doctor glance distractedly around the room before he left. Aziraphale smiled into his now cold cup of tea.

"I bet Crowley will be so disappointed he missed meeting an alien today. He always had a knack for that crop circle madness." Aziraphale jumped out of his skin, knocking the teacup across the room to explode against a bookshelf. He raced around the couch and picked up the phone.