Chapter Text
“Where do you want these?” Crowley asks as she jostles a stack of flower pots through the door leading out to the roof.
“On the outer edge, if you please. That should look nice, don’t you think?” comes a voice from behind one of the beehives, a plum of white smoke following.
Crowley makes a non-committal sound, hoisting the first pot from the stack to place it on the outer corner, then arranges the next ones in line until she reaches the other corner. “How about this?”
A woman dressed in cream coloured coveralls steps around one of the hives, a hat with a mesh veil on her hat. “Quite lovely. Yes, I think that’s perfect.”
“I’ll get the soil then.” Crowley hurries off down the stairs, through the antique bookshop on the ground level, and to her car where she’s parked out front. From the back of the vintage Bentley pick-up, she drags a sack of potting soil and takes it over her shoulder.
“Can I help?”
Crowley flinches and almost topples over backwards, the bag of soil making her a bit top heavy. “Oh for f…”
“I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Crowley huffs, righting herself again. “No need to help, Miss Fell. I got it.”
“Please… Azira.”
Crowley blinks at her still veiled face, her features warped by the fine mesh. Before she can protest, Azira takes the bag from her arms, easily slinging it over her shoulder, and stalks back into the shop.
“Guess I take the flowers, then,” Crowley mutters to herself and pulls a crate of baby lavender plants from the boot.
“You’re strong,” she says lamely when she’s back up on the roof where Azira is waiting for her, the bag of soil still over her shoulders. “Stacking all those books must have paid off.” She cringes at her own words. This is why she prefers flowers and plants.
Azira laughs. “It’s actually from taking care of my bees. The hives get quite heavy when my little ladies have been busy.”
“Right, yeah… uhm… you can put the soil over there. I’ll start filling the pots.”
Azira drops the bag where instructed. “Could I interest you in some tea? All this work must make you thirsty.”
Crowley blinks again and as if on cue, her tongue sticks to the roof of her mouth. “That’d be nice, yeah.”
“Excellent. Be back in a jiffy.”
Crowley looks after her as she putters off in the unshapely suit. It was odd how someone she hadn’t even seen the face off made a tingle flare up in her stomach every time she spoke. They had only talked on the phone so far when she had called Azira about her order of three dozen lavender plants. Not that she didn’t trust Eric with taking notes but his handwriting was utterly illegible and she had to make sure to read the order right.
Which is how she had ended up here, on her roof, sweating a bit - solely from hauling stuff up two flights of stairs, of course - and about to plant three dozen lavender plants. Surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the Soho street down below, a number of curious bees, and her veiled employer.
Mopping across her brow with the back of her hand, Crowley sets off to work, filling the pots with soil, dividing the plants, exchanging one or two to even out the arrangements. She’s so busy that she doesn’t realise Azira coming back up.
“Oh that’s lovely,” Azira claims, delighted.
Crowley all but yelps, catching her little shovel just in time before it can clatter to the floor. “I can plant them, then?” she stutters, masking that Azira has managed to startle her yet again.
“Yes, please do. My little ladies will love them.”
From the corner of her eyes, Crowley watches Azira set a tray down on a small table, then how she pulls two fold-up chairs close. She has discarded her veiled hat and for the first time, Crowley catches a glimpse of white-blond hair curled into an updo, a tartan band around her head.
“Tea’s ready, if you like.” With that Azira turns around and for a moment, Crowley doesn't breath.
The woman smiles at her, rosy lips tucked up at the corner. Her eyes sparkle with a bit of mischief above her pink cheeks.
“Yes… thanks… I’ll just…” Crowley points at the pot she’s currently working.
“Oh, take your time, dear.” Azira sits down and the beekeeper suit tightens around her form, drawing taut over her chest and stomach, hugging her thighs as she crosses her legs. “You won’t mind me watching what you’re doing, will you? I’d like to do it myself when I need to.”
Crowley makes a sound in the back of her throat, then turns back to the lavender, digging little holes to stick the plants into. She tries to focus as much as she can on her work, on not getting soil everywhere, on not breaking off any of the lavender, on not hurting any of the bees. She’s certainly not trying to ignore Azira’s eyes on her, watching her every move.
“Why don’t you take a break, dear?” Azira asks after a while. “The tea is getting cold.”
Crowley wants to decline the offer but she can’t deny feeling a bit parched, working out here in the sun. So she stands and wipes her hands on her trousers. To her surprise, Azira has not only fixed tea but also a scrumptious looking display of pastries.
“Please, do have a seat.” Azira rises out of her own as if to pull out the chair of Crowley.
“Thanks. That looks… lovely.”
Azira beams. “Thank you. Please, help yourself.” She pours tea into a delicate cup.
Crowley reaches for a particularly inviting looking Danish and takes a bite. “That’s delicious,” she says, still chewing.
“Thank you, love. Everything is naturally sweetened by my lovely ladies.” Azira nods in the direction of the three hives behind her.
“Can I ask you something?” Crowley says, washing the Danish down with a sip of tea - also naturally sweetened, of course.
“Oh please do.”
“What do you do with all the honey? It doesn’t look exactly like a farmer’s market down there?”
Azira laughs, not at Crowley. “Well, if you happen to have a property in the South Down at hand where I could set up a stand, I’d be the first to make you an offer.” She pops a piece of pastry into her mouth. “I give it away.”
“You give it away?” Crowley raises a brow.
“I can hardly use it all by myself, can I? I’d be even rounder than I am.” Azira pats her stomach and Crowley almost chokes. “So I give it to friends. Sometimes to a customer if they’re nice.”
Crowley nods, trying her best not to imagine said roundness as she sips her tea. “Well… I should get back to it. These lavenders haven’t been watered in a while, so I better get them into some soil.”
“Quite right. Can I help?”
“You could get a watering can or…”
“I have a hose.”
“Perfect.”
Crowley watches her scramble off to the back of the terraced roof, not paying any attention at all to way the coveralls span over her backside, before she tends to the lavenders again.
Covered in sweat and soil, she rises after the work is done, trying to brush her hair back without getting too much dirt into it. “There we are… you got that...”
A jet of water hits her square in the chest. It makes her stagger back a few steps before she finds her balance again.
“Oh goodness me…. I’m so sorry.” Azira quickly fiddles with the nozzle of the hose until the water finally stops.
“It’s… it’s alright. I needed a shower anyway.” Crowley tugs at her soaked shirt, trying to peel it off her chest but the deep red fabric clings to her skin, leaving little to the imagination. She shivers as the mix of cool water and the soft breeze makes a chill crawl over her skin, her nipples hardening all too obviously.
“I can get you a dry shirt if…,” Azira starts to offer, her voice a bit heavier than before.
“No, no… I’m good. Bit cold but…” Crowley tries not to look at her, she doesn’t want to find out where Azira is looking. “Next time, aim at the plants, please.”
“Of course. Yes. Sorry.” With a little nervous cough, Azira pushes past her and this time actually gets the water onto the lavender.
“So… I guess I would write you an invoice, then?” Crowley asks mostly to distract herself from watching Azira water the plants. She plucks another piece of pastry from the platter, sticking it into her mouth.
“Oh yes, please. That would be perfect. I don’t have that much cash at the shop today.” Azira casts a glance over her shoulder that Crowley can’t quite place. “I could come to your shop, then. Pay what I’m due.”
“Yeah, sure.. that’d be….” Crowley busies herself actually chewing. “Mh-hm.” She nods, looking away.
When every last lavender is watered thoroughly - of course Crowley checks, it’s her job after all - she stashes her tools back into the boot of her car, wiping her hands on the trousers.
“Well, then….” Again, Azira appears behind her. “That was quite lovely, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. You got a nice…. roof.”
“I do, yes. The bees love it.”
Crowley nods, feeling heat in her cheeks that is not due to the sun this time. “So I’ll write up that invoice and you can come by…. whenever.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah, tomorrow is… a day.” Crowley clears her throat. “Tomorrow is good, yeah.”
“Excellent.” Azira reaches out her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” She doesn't make it a question.
Crowley shakes her hand and it’s warm and soft, a bit clammy maybe but with a strong grip. “Tomorrow.”