Good Omens ficlet for closet_zebra
Sorry it's been a while - will hopefully rattle the rest off this weekend.
For closet_zebra from this post.
Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, PG-13, 400 words.
‘An arrangement, you say…’ Aziraphale swirled wine around the bottom of his tankard, musing. ‘It’s possible, I suppose.’
Crowley leant in, eyes glinting. ‘More than possible. Come on, what do you say?’
Aziraphale looked at this demon that somehow wasn’t quite like Heaven had always made out. ‘Alright.’
Crowley grinned, and Aziraphale suddenly doubted this had been such a wise move after all.
‘And what are you doing now?’ Crowley asked.
Aziraphale stood up, scraping against the stone floor. ‘Going back to the books. Good night.’
There was a flash of annoyance in Crowley’s eyes, then he got up smoothly and shook Aziraphale’s hand. ‘Well, good night then, angel.’
---
Aziraphale was with his books. Aziraphale was always with his bloody books. Crowley watched from the doorway, amused but determined. Aziraphale pushed his glasses further down his nose, glanced up and raised an eyebrow.
‘Yes?’
Crowley sauntered over, meeting Aziraphale’s eye and not giving an inch. ‘Leave the books. Go on. One evening, you can do it.’
‘Do you have a better proposal, then?’ Aziraphale asked with a twitch that betrayed an almost smile.
Crowley responded by standing between Aziraphale and the book he’d been peering over. He sat on the edge of the desk, but there was an awful sound. A page, slowly but inexorably, made one soft crunching noise.
Aziraphale looked pale. Crowley leaped up. ‘Ah.’
‘Out.’
‘Yeah, going now.’ Crowley scarpered.
---
‘No. No. Absolutely not.’
‘Why the he- why not?’
‘Because we’re in a church, Crowley!’
‘Exactly.’
‘No.’
‘Bastard.’
‘Don’t swear!’
---
Crowley woke up from a long, relaxing nap. There was something really rather soothing about the sound of the waves - marketing it on tapes had been one of his better ideas in recent years - and he sat up, hoping there might be a nice girl to bring him a cocktail.
He glanced over at Aziraphale, and froze. The sun and moved quite considerably since Crowley had last checked, and his angelic counterpart was a now a peculiar and painful shade of lobster.
‘Aziraphale, wake up…’ Crowley said with trepidation.
Aziraphale started, then stared, then glared. ‘You said you were staying awake!’ He winced. ‘I can’t move. Idiot.’
---
They staggered into Crowley’s flat, exhausted from this most momentous of days.
‘Well,’ said Crowley, ‘how does it feel, saving the world?’
Aziraphale just laughed, and Crowley moved towards him, looking for anything just so he could stop worrying about everything again.
‘Do you really think this is the time?’ Aziraphale asked.
‘If this isn’t the time, then I really don’t know what is.’
With a smile, Aziraphale kissed him.
Remus/Sirius next, hurrah!
For closet_zebra from this post.
Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, PG-13, 400 words.
‘An arrangement, you say…’ Aziraphale swirled wine around the bottom of his tankard, musing. ‘It’s possible, I suppose.’
Crowley leant in, eyes glinting. ‘More than possible. Come on, what do you say?’
Aziraphale looked at this demon that somehow wasn’t quite like Heaven had always made out. ‘Alright.’
Crowley grinned, and Aziraphale suddenly doubted this had been such a wise move after all.
‘And what are you doing now?’ Crowley asked.
Aziraphale stood up, scraping against the stone floor. ‘Going back to the books. Good night.’
There was a flash of annoyance in Crowley’s eyes, then he got up smoothly and shook Aziraphale’s hand. ‘Well, good night then, angel.’
---
Aziraphale was with his books. Aziraphale was always with his bloody books. Crowley watched from the doorway, amused but determined. Aziraphale pushed his glasses further down his nose, glanced up and raised an eyebrow.
‘Yes?’
Crowley sauntered over, meeting Aziraphale’s eye and not giving an inch. ‘Leave the books. Go on. One evening, you can do it.’
‘Do you have a better proposal, then?’ Aziraphale asked with a twitch that betrayed an almost smile.
Crowley responded by standing between Aziraphale and the book he’d been peering over. He sat on the edge of the desk, but there was an awful sound. A page, slowly but inexorably, made one soft crunching noise.
Aziraphale looked pale. Crowley leaped up. ‘Ah.’
‘Out.’
‘Yeah, going now.’ Crowley scarpered.
---
‘No. No. Absolutely not.’
‘Why the he- why not?’
‘Because we’re in a church, Crowley!’
‘Exactly.’
‘No.’
‘Bastard.’
‘Don’t swear!’
---
Crowley woke up from a long, relaxing nap. There was something really rather soothing about the sound of the waves - marketing it on tapes had been one of his better ideas in recent years - and he sat up, hoping there might be a nice girl to bring him a cocktail.
He glanced over at Aziraphale, and froze. The sun and moved quite considerably since Crowley had last checked, and his angelic counterpart was a now a peculiar and painful shade of lobster.
‘Aziraphale, wake up…’ Crowley said with trepidation.
Aziraphale started, then stared, then glared. ‘You said you were staying awake!’ He winced. ‘I can’t move. Idiot.’
---
They staggered into Crowley’s flat, exhausted from this most momentous of days.
‘Well,’ said Crowley, ‘how does it feel, saving the world?’
Aziraphale just laughed, and Crowley moved towards him, looking for anything just so he could stop worrying about everything again.
‘Do you really think this is the time?’ Aziraphale asked.
‘If this isn’t the time, then I really don’t know what is.’
With a smile, Aziraphale kissed him.
Remus/Sirius next, hurrah!