My God
Title: My God
Word count: Short
Rating: PG?
Summary: Crowley gets Aziraphale to watch Sister Act. Just a silly little story based on an experience I had.
"You'll like this, trust me."
Aziraphale peered at the DVD cover1. A nun in red stilettos. It was Whoopi Goldberg, but there was no way in Hell Aziraphale would have known that.
"It's about your people," Crowley pointed out cheerfully.
"My people?"
"You know," Crowley hesitated. "Catholics."
"Oh," Aziraphale said. "Well, Catholics are... personally, I find their methods a little-"
"Insane?" Crowley supplied helpfully. It was the nicest adjective he could think of.
"Well, I was going to say "over-enthusiastic", thank you, dear," Aziraphale huffed a little. "I mean to say," he added quickly, "we are all God's children-"
Crowley waved this away. "Yes, but still." He tapped the front cover. "Your people. Really, you'll like this movie. It's all about reforming the wicked. Your lot go in for that sort of thing."
"Quite, yes."
Crowley grinned. After all, he'd just won. Aziraphale wasn't too fond of what he sniffily called "modern entertainment", and so far all he had managed to get Aziraphale to watch was the Sound of Music.
"I'll get the wine," he said. When he returned, Aziraphale had settled himself primly on his sleek black couch. Crowley assumed his default casual lounging position beside him.
He glanced at Aziraphale, sighed, and pulled him closer until the angel relaxed against him. Then he waved his hand at his television set, in the manner of a Jedi mind trick, and the movie began.
Hell has some pretty gruesome tortures up its sleeve, though it has nothing on the type of evil humans dream up on a daily basis. No amount of human sadism, however, could have ever made Crowley admit that he liked the movie Sister Act2.
"Well?" Crowley asked, tentatively, when it ended.
"Well," Aziraphale said. "I've never seen Mass done quite like that before. Though it is a nice change from the dirge-like affairs."
"Did you like it, I meant," he pressed.
"I did enjoy it. Thank you." And Aziraphale kissed him chastely on the cheek.
Crowley blinked3. "What was that for?" he asked.
"You. Thinking of things I'd like. It's rather sweet of you, dear boy."
Crowley grumbled under his breath a little. "Well, I just thought you'd approve of nuns."
"You liked it too."
"What?" Crowley snapped.
"You liked it. I could tell. You were humming along during the songs. You like it."
"They were catchy," he answered, defensively.
Aziraphale beamed at him. "I always knew you weren't as bad as all-"
"Yes, yes, all right, there's no need to harp on about it," he interrupted. "No pun intended." Aziraphale was still smiling and infuriatingly smug, so he asked, "Do you want to watch the second one, then?"
"Yes, please."
"I'll just, ah, go get some more wine, then." Crowley got to his feet and slinked off into the kitchen.
Privately, since no one was watching, Aziraphale allowed himself a small grin.
"Oh my," Aziraphale breathed, several moments after the St. Francis choir had finished singing. "That was..." He looked like he was about to cry.
"Yeah," Crowley croaked.
"My dear boy," the angel said, surprised. "Are you... moved?"
"Shut up," Crowley grunted.
When St. Francis won the competition, Aziraphale's eyes shone wetly4.
"That's how worship should be," Aziraphale said, emphatically. "It pains me to see them in church sometimes."
Crowley knew what the angel meant. "Like they're being forced to be there."
"I mean, the time you commune with your Father ought to be... joyful. Like that. What parent wants their children to dread coming to see Him every week?" Aziraphale sighed and rested on Crowley. "That was wonderful, though. I do enjoy these pictures."
Crowley snorted. Aziraphale looked up.
"What?"
"Pictures?" he asked, sniggering.
"What's the matter with it?"
"It's... nevermind." He patted Aziraphale. By now, he was used to the angel's proverbial ability to be stuck in any other era but the current one.
"Have you got any other films?" Aziraphale asked.
Crowley held up another excellently pirated DVD.
"'My Fair Lady'?" Aziraphale read. He recognized Audrey Hepburn, at least.
Crowley waved vaguely at his television set and continued to lounge.
"You'll like this, trust me."
1 A first-rate pirated copy, of course.
2 Even if he can't really sing along without bursting into flame.
3 A remarkable occurrence, as he didn't need to.
4 As did Crowley's. He almost thanked something divine for his sunglasses.
Word count: Short
Rating: PG?
Summary: Crowley gets Aziraphale to watch Sister Act. Just a silly little story based on an experience I had.
"You'll like this, trust me."
Aziraphale peered at the DVD cover1. A nun in red stilettos. It was Whoopi Goldberg, but there was no way in Hell Aziraphale would have known that.
"It's about your people," Crowley pointed out cheerfully.
"My people?"
"You know," Crowley hesitated. "Catholics."
"Oh," Aziraphale said. "Well, Catholics are... personally, I find their methods a little-"
"Insane?" Crowley supplied helpfully. It was the nicest adjective he could think of.
"Well, I was going to say "over-enthusiastic", thank you, dear," Aziraphale huffed a little. "I mean to say," he added quickly, "we are all God's children-"
Crowley waved this away. "Yes, but still." He tapped the front cover. "Your people. Really, you'll like this movie. It's all about reforming the wicked. Your lot go in for that sort of thing."
"Quite, yes."
Crowley grinned. After all, he'd just won. Aziraphale wasn't too fond of what he sniffily called "modern entertainment", and so far all he had managed to get Aziraphale to watch was the Sound of Music.
"I'll get the wine," he said. When he returned, Aziraphale had settled himself primly on his sleek black couch. Crowley assumed his default casual lounging position beside him.
He glanced at Aziraphale, sighed, and pulled him closer until the angel relaxed against him. Then he waved his hand at his television set, in the manner of a Jedi mind trick, and the movie began.
Hell has some pretty gruesome tortures up its sleeve, though it has nothing on the type of evil humans dream up on a daily basis. No amount of human sadism, however, could have ever made Crowley admit that he liked the movie Sister Act2.
"Well?" Crowley asked, tentatively, when it ended.
"Well," Aziraphale said. "I've never seen Mass done quite like that before. Though it is a nice change from the dirge-like affairs."
"Did you like it, I meant," he pressed.
"I did enjoy it. Thank you." And Aziraphale kissed him chastely on the cheek.
Crowley blinked3. "What was that for?" he asked.
"You. Thinking of things I'd like. It's rather sweet of you, dear boy."
Crowley grumbled under his breath a little. "Well, I just thought you'd approve of nuns."
"You liked it too."
"What?" Crowley snapped.
"You liked it. I could tell. You were humming along during the songs. You like it."
"They were catchy," he answered, defensively.
Aziraphale beamed at him. "I always knew you weren't as bad as all-"
"Yes, yes, all right, there's no need to harp on about it," he interrupted. "No pun intended." Aziraphale was still smiling and infuriatingly smug, so he asked, "Do you want to watch the second one, then?"
"Yes, please."
"I'll just, ah, go get some more wine, then." Crowley got to his feet and slinked off into the kitchen.
Privately, since no one was watching, Aziraphale allowed himself a small grin.
"Oh my," Aziraphale breathed, several moments after the St. Francis choir had finished singing. "That was..." He looked like he was about to cry.
"Yeah," Crowley croaked.
"My dear boy," the angel said, surprised. "Are you... moved?"
"Shut up," Crowley grunted.
When St. Francis won the competition, Aziraphale's eyes shone wetly4.
"That's how worship should be," Aziraphale said, emphatically. "It pains me to see them in church sometimes."
Crowley knew what the angel meant. "Like they're being forced to be there."
"I mean, the time you commune with your Father ought to be... joyful. Like that. What parent wants their children to dread coming to see Him every week?" Aziraphale sighed and rested on Crowley. "That was wonderful, though. I do enjoy these pictures."
Crowley snorted. Aziraphale looked up.
"What?"
"Pictures?" he asked, sniggering.
"What's the matter with it?"
"It's... nevermind." He patted Aziraphale. By now, he was used to the angel's proverbial ability to be stuck in any other era but the current one.
"Have you got any other films?" Aziraphale asked.
Crowley held up another excellently pirated DVD.
"'My Fair Lady'?" Aziraphale read. He recognized Audrey Hepburn, at least.
Crowley waved vaguely at his television set and continued to lounge.
"You'll like this, trust me."
1 A first-rate pirated copy, of course.
2 Even if he can't really sing along without bursting into flame.
3 A remarkable occurrence, as he didn't need to.
4 As did Crowley's. He almost thanked something divine for his sunglasses.