Aziraphale had met Olsen early on, and wondered about him. He seemed less interested in working in the library than doing research in it - not that Aziraphale could blame him, as it was truly an abysmal library. He was even taking notes, and while such dedication was admirable, Aziraphale couldn't help wondering what he was trying to find out. For such an apparently elderly man, he had quite a bit of - what was it Crowley always said? He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. Spunk? It was possible Crowley'd said it ironically.
While spending endless hours reorganizing databases, which took twice as long as it might've if he'd ever touched a computer made after 1991, he kept his eye on Olsen. He caught occasional glimpses of titles - things about history, science, the Disaster. It was a good idea, and a bit of an old-fashioned one, too, which Aziraphale approved of: when in doubt, go to the library.
By Thursday he'd taken to walking past the console more than was strictly necessary, peering as subtly as he could manage at the titles of Olsen's reading material. He sincerely hoped he was more inconspicuous than he felt.
Thursday
While spending endless hours reorganizing databases, which took twice as long as it might've if he'd ever touched a computer made after 1991, he kept his eye on Olsen. He caught occasional glimpses of titles - things about history, science, the Disaster. It was a good idea, and a bit of an old-fashioned one, too, which Aziraphale approved of: when in doubt, go to the library.
By Thursday he'd taken to walking past the console more than was strictly necessary, peering as subtly as he could manage at the titles of Olsen's reading material. He sincerely hoped he was more inconspicuous than he felt.