I am totally not uploading this here just because "omg new feature, must use it!", and it's the only crossover I ever wrote. Because that would be silly.
Anyway, set after GO, and following the anime-timeline for YGO. Footnotes are in bold at the end of each section, and numbered continuously so they're searchable.
Disclaimer: I own neither Yuugiou nor Good Omens.
strictly necessary heavenly and hellish meddling
Their first encounter with the game had slipped his mind for quite a while. They had been looking through toy stores a little before Christmas, because Aziraphale had felt bound to inspire some Christmas spirit this time: he was still feeling a little guilty for having spent last year getting wasted with a demon. Crowley never worked too much during that time of the year: Aziraphale's employers tended to be more attentive than usually, the humans usually produced enough unhappiness and stress on their own to keep his side relatively happy, and he did deserve to get a holiday from time to time (1).
The angel was inspecting the modern toys perplexedly, and seemed rather reassured to find something as simple as a card game among them, even if its increasing world-wide popularity was somewhat suspicious.
"I don't know," Aziraphale said, in a disapproving tone that meant "I do know that I don't like this at all, but don't want to say anything too bad", while looking through a deck. It might be meant as criticism of the use of occult symbols, or card and hazard games in general, but Crowley was pretty sure he meant the art. "Are you sure your people have nothing to do with this?"
Crowley made a vague gesture and mumbled something unintelligible, which Aziraphale had learned to recognise to mean that even if they did, he, personally, did not wish to be linked to it in any way, and could they please talk about something other than the more embarrassing parts of his job?
"Well," Aziraphale concluded, still a bit puzzled. "It looks harmless."
(1) He used to think that a demon taking a holiday over Christmas was wonderfully twisted, but the mild, amused smile with which Aziraphale had greeted this idea had made that part seem a lot less logical.
xxxxx
Crowley only remembered the exact words when the angel said something rather similar in New York several months later. They were sitting on one of he better places, because Crowley couldn't conceive the idea not to, and were possibly the only spectators who were able to follow the duel other than on the stadium's huge screens.
"I can't believe," Crowley said, "that you dragged me all the way to America to watch a card game." He looked around at the cheering masses. "What is wrong with these people?"
Aziraphale's disoriented look indicated that he probably was somewhat taken aback as well.
"I think it's very nice," he said testily, like he needed to convince himself, and wasn't very confident he'd manage. "Strategic and non-violent."
"You said the same when football became popular." (2)
Aziraphale made a sour face.
"It could have been," he said unhappily. He had found the concept interesting at first, and owned a first edition of Ferenc Puskas' autobiography, and had been rather put off when Crowley had assured him that hell had nothing to do with the hooligans, the on-field violence, at least half of the bribery scandals, or, which the angel had found particularly hard to believe, considering the added blasphemy, the so called "hand of god" incident (3) "Anyway," he added, "I don't see how this could degenerate the same way."
(2) Soccer. Not, you know, American football. Aziraphale isn't that naive.
(3) Though Crowley did claim responsibility for the Golden Goal rule and strategically placed replays on TV that would make you miss all the important scenes.
xxxxx
"And? Did you notice anything?"
"The game was a set-up?"
"Any evidence of occult forces at work, I mean."
"No." (Aziraphale breathed out in relief.) "You?"
"Nothing."
xxxxx
"So..." The boy waved one last time at his friend, turned round, and disappeared inside the game shop. Luckily, he wasn't looking into their direction: Crowley didn't think two people standing in the middle of a road apparently reading newspapers were a common and unsuspicious occurrence. "That's him, then?"
"Huh?"
The expression of confused, innocent surprise might have worked for a human; on an angel, however, it was amazingly unconvincing: Crowley rolled his eyes.
Their stay in Japan hadn't gone too well so far, at least as far as the demon was concerned, and Aziraphale's extreme subtlety at hinting they might want to visit Domino City had unnecessarily dragged it out, as Crowley just couldn't figure out what the two of them where there for. The sushi in Japan didn't quite taste as well as the sushi in England, and there weren't as many useless electronic gadgets as Crowley had believed he could expect. (4)
"Were you ever going to tell me you're here on duty?"
"Uhm," said Aziraphale; there was no answer to this question that would not, in some way, be treacherous and dishonest. "Er."
(4) Which didn't stop him from taking credit for a few of the more annoying ones, like the singing teapots. They had agreed that the angel would successfully thwart his attempt to make them popular in Britain.
xxxxx
"That went well," Aziraphale commented happily, rubbing his hands together. "Generous, stayed courageous and faithful to his friends, showed mercy to his enemies..." He sighed contently. He was always very pleased and a bit surprised to see humans act decently without needing much, or any, probing into the right direction. (5)
"You do know," Crowley asked carefully, "that he's possessed, don't you?"
"By a human spirit," Aziraphale countered uneasily.
"That makes it all right then?"
Aziraphale looked down at his hands.
"I don't see why not. They have a good influence on each other, you see." He folded his hands, and added, nervously, to change the subject: "What about your work?"
"Hm? Oh, it went okay, I guess. I got that ring back, and the ghost stole the millionaire's magic item."
"He did what?"
(5) So was Crowley, though he would never admit to it. Firstly because, well, he was a demon, and being pleased about humans being good just didn't do for a demon, and secondly because the human might always have ulterior motives, and Crowley hated being wrong. One thing more embarrassing than a demon praising a human for a good deed was a demon accidentally praising a human for a good deed that had not been one.
xxxxx
"Crowley, please..."
"How the... how was I supposed to know that it was stuck in his eye socket !?"
Aziraphale decided that this was not a good time to mention that, had he paid the slightest bit of attention instead of taking advantage of the occasion to taste some Californian wine, he would have known. It had been quite good wine, though.
"It's okay. Really, my dear, if you keep drinking like that you won't be able to sober up anymore."
The angel gently removed the bottle from the demon's hand, and held it firmly when occult forces weakly pulled at it.
"'m not drunk. You just want it all for yourself."
"I'd never – "
"I'm sick of this," Crowley briskly interrupted as he stood up, and did look sober all the sudden. "Let's go home. Or at least," he added after a moment of thought, "let's get away from this whole mess. It's not like either side needs us anyway."
"Well..." Aziraphale bit his lips. "I have very specific orders, you know."
"Oh come on!"
"I can't just disobey." A pause. "Unless, of course, Adam was involved."
Crowley thought about this.
"The Antichrist made me do it? Sounds good to me. Let's go."
He stood up, and turned round, surprised and impatient, when the angel didn't follow.
"Well?"
"It's just... don't you think it's wrong?"
"What, lying to your boss? Can't imagine why. Of course, I'm not the person you want to ask that kind of thing."
"No, I mean Adam. Using him as an excuse."
"An excuse?" Crowley sat back down to get to stare at the angel properly. "It was true last time!"
"That's what I mean. We shouldn't be encouraging that kind of behaviour. We're his godfathers after all."
"Actually, angel, we're not."
"Right. But we should have been."
Aziraphale looked at him hopefully. Crowley narrowed his eyes.
"This was your idea, and now you want me to tempt you into it?!"
"Humour me."
The demon rolled his eyes.
"All right. If you come home with me now, I'll... take you out to dinner. Good enough?"
"Well, okay. But it's your turn to pay anyway."
"Don't push it."
Fin
Football note: Ferenc Puskas was an Hungarian player who played at Real Madrid; he's mentioned here because the Spanish author and Real Madrid fan Javier Marias wrote in an article how he found the autobiography in a antiquary's literature catalogue only sent to few people, and when he wanted to order it, was told that not only it was already gone, but it was the book for which he got the most queries. I like to think that Aziraphale got it. ;)
Comments are, as always, greatly appreciated.