I Am Your Angel, a good omens fanfic

I Am Your Angel

Song by Celine Dion

No Mountains too high, for you to climb
All you have to do is have some climbing faith, oh yeah
No rivers too wide, for you to make it across
All you have to do is believe it when you pray

And then you will see, the morning will come
And everyday will be bright as the sun
All of your fears cast them on me
I just want you to see...

I'll be your cloud up in the sky
I'll be your shoulder when you cry
I'll hear your voices when you call me
I am your angel
And when all hope is gone, I'm here
No matter how far you are, I'm near
It makes no difference who you are
I am your angel
I'm your angel

I saw the teardrops, and I heard you cry
All you need is time, seek me and you shall find
You have everything and you're still lonely
It doesn't have to be this way, let me show you a better day

And then you will see, the morning will come
And all of your days will be bright as the sun
So all of your fears, just cast them on me
How can I make you see...

I'll be your cloud up in the sky
I'll be your shoulder when you cry
I'll hear your voices when you call me
I am your angel
And when all hope is gone, I'm here
No matter how far you are, I'm near
It makes no difference who you are
I am your angel
I'm your angel

And when it's time to face the storm
I'll be right by your side
Grace will keep up safe and warm
And I know we will survive

And when it seems as if your end is drawing near
Don't you dare give up the fight
Just put your trust beyond the sky...

I'll be your cloud up in the sky
I'll be your shoulder when you cry
I'll hear your voices when you call me
I am your angel
And when all hope is gone, I'm here
No matter how far you are, I'm near
It makes no difference who you are
I am your angel
I'm your angel

I'll be your cloud up in the sky
I'll be your shoulder when you cry
I'll hear your voices when you call me
I am your angel
And when all hope is gone, I'm here
No matter how far you are, I'm near
It makes no difference who you are
I am your angel
I'm your angel

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale squared his shoulders. It was time. He WOULD confront Crowley.

It had been nearly a week since that fateful night when he'd taken a trip to the "Fires of Passion" night club with Crowley. Since then he hadn't been able to get the demon out of his mind, hadn't been able to forget that intimate slow dance he'd shared with his friend.

Friend? Aziraphale pondered this. What was the correct label? Crowley was more than a friend. He always had been, even before the dance, even before the averted Apocalypse. But now...

Now things were different. Something had changed, while he was dancing with Crowley. Aziraphale personally believed that the Fates had taken the moment he was distracted by the dance and rotated the guidelines of the universe a few degrees. That was a rather likely cause for this phenomenon. More likely than the only other explanation he could come up with.

He was in love with Crowley. Nope. Couldn't be. Angels can't love demons, he told himself. That was, of course, unless the guidelines of the universe had been changed after all, in which case all bets were off.

At any rate, he told himself sternly, you have to confront Crowley. You have to talk to him. Because the longer you wait, the more he's going to tease you when you finally do see him. The angel breathed a silent sigh. He'd be in for the teasing of his life as it was.

"All right Crowley," he said to himself, quietly, "here I come, ready or not."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The universal guidelines MUST have shifted, Aziraphale decided. There was no other explanation for what he was witnessing.

Aziraphale had decided to appear to Crowley as he had left him; in angel form with wings outspread. He knew where Crowley's apartment was, so he had flown there, being careful to remain above the clouds until the last moment so he wouldn't be spotted.

Now, as he looked in the window, he kind of wished he had knocked first.

Crowley was home, but did not look in the mood for company. There were beer bottles strewn all about his apartment, lying over all surfaces, broken on the floor, a few still half-full. One, lying on its side on a cabinet, dripped its contents slowly into a potted plant below. The plant seemed not to care very much.

As for the demon himself...

Crowley was sprawled accross his couch, not exactly asleep, but looking like he was attempting it. And unless Aziraphale was mistaken...

Was he crying?

The angel decided that spying was impolite, and that Crowley would be furious if he knew that the angel had seen him in this condition. Flapping his wings a few beats, he rose to the roof of the building, set himself down, and entered through the top stairway.

Reaching Crowley's floor, Aziraphale raised his fist to knock on Crowley's door, but stopped. He bit his lip, wondering whether or not to go through with it. Crowley... what did it all mean, really? He'd thought... Crowley was a demon, he couldn't possibly care, but what he had seen...

This was too confusing. Maybe he should just go. Come back after he was feeling more settled. Aziraphale turned to go, hating himself as he did so, but feeling powerless to do otherwise.

He was just starting to walk down the hall when the door next to Crowley's opened, and an old lady stepped in to the doorway, eyeing Aziraphale with a frown.

"You named Aziraphale?" Her voice held more intelligence and spunk than her age would suggest.

Aziraphale hesitated, startled. "Yes, that's me. Why?"

The old woman rolled her eyes. "Come in."

A little unnerved, but not wanting to turn down the request of an old lady, Aziraphale followed her into her apartment.

It looked like a normal apartment, he decided. Sure, it was a little more red and pink than he was used to, and there were a lot more lace doilies than seemed practical, but Aziraphale put it down to the eccentricities of old age.

"Sit down," she ordered.

That particular law of the universe still being in affect, Aziraphale sat. After all, what person can disobey a direct order from a little old lady?

Aziraphale opened his mouth to speak, but the old woman cut him off.

"Listen Aziraphale, you don't need to know who I am, it's not important. But I have a bone to pick with you!"

Again Aziraphale tried to get a word in, but was cut off.

"Now I realize that you two must have had a fight, considering he's been over there crying for the past week, but really! I mean, you two must have been really close."

When she stopped for breath, Aziraphale seized his chance.

"Umm.... excuse me, but... who are you talking about?"

She stared at him as though he were an idiot, which admitedly, he felt like at the moment. "Mr. Crowley, of course. You know, the one next door? I know you two must have been dating at some point. He's always talking to himself, pretending he's talking to you, and... I don't know if I should say this, but he does some rather.... x-rated things while thinking of you. I hear things, these walls are thin. Anyway, he's been bawling his eyes out, and I can't sleep at night! I hear everything that goes on there, and I'd really appreciate it if you two would make up so I could sleep."

By this point Aziraphale was blushing more than he ever had in his life, and the old lady was giving him a funny look.

"So, what are you waiting for? Get over there!"

"Yes ma'am," said Aziraphale meekly, rising and nodding politely to her before getting out of the apartment as fast as he could.

So he was in the hallway again. And the woman HAD requested...

Nearly shaking from nerves, Aziraphale approached Crowley's door once again and knocked hesitantly.

There was a short popping sound on the other side of the door; the kind that might be caused by the air rushing into a space suddenly not occupied by several dozen beer bottles. Then the door swung open to the accompaniement of a familiar voice.

"I'm rather busy, this better be im- Aziraphale!"

Crowley stared at the angel, disbelief showing plainly on his features. "What... what are you doing here?"

Aziraphale lowered his head a little so that Crowley couldn't see him blush. "May I please come in?"

"Oh, sure, sure." Crowley jumped a little, then held the door open for the angel to enter.

Aziraphale moved dejectedly into the room. He hadn't really wanted to enter, if not for that old lady, he wouldn't have. So... now what?

Aziraphale plunked himself down unceremoniously on the sofa, while Crowley seated himself in an armchair across the coffee table from it.

Silence reigned, incredibly awkward. Finally, Crowley cleared his throat.

"So... Aziraphale... what brings you here?"

"I met your neighbor," he said weekly.

"Who?"

"Umm.... a little old lady. To your left."

"Oh, that would be Ms. Hartman."

There was another short awkward silence. Aziraphale was the one to break it this time.

Aziraphale took a deep breath. Here went nothing, as the humans said. "Crowley, we need to talk. About the dance."

Crowley snorted and focused his eyes intently on the armrest of his chair as he spoke. "What is there to talk about? I talked you into going to a night club. We shared a romantic dance. It was possibly the best three or four minutes of my life. Then you ran away." He looked up again.

Aziraphale looked at him, shocked. "I... I didn't know you felt... do you? ...Crowley?"

Crowley nodded sadly. "Yeah. Rules be blessed, I do feel that way. I... I love you Aziraphale. I have for a long time."

Aziraphale closed his eyes wearily. "Thank Heaven. Or someone at least."

Crowley blinked in startlement. "S-say again?"

Aziraphale smiled, a brilliant smile that escaped him practically unknowingly. "I love you too. I realized it after we danced. I guess... I was scared. I didn't know what to do, so I ran away. I'm sorry."

Crowley finally looked him in the eyes, and smiled back. "You're forgiven. For what it's worth, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have sprung that on you like I did. The dance, I mean."

Aziraphale grinned... well, it would have been evilly, were it not for the fact that angels can't smile evilly. But it was pretty darn close.

Before Crowley knew it, Aziraphale was right next to him, their faces mere inches apart. Crowley opened his mouth, apparently trying to say something, but all that came out was a small strangled noise.

"Shut up demon," Aziraphale whispered, and closed the gap.

Considering that neither of them really had to breathe, the kiss lasted quite a long while. But eventually they broke apart, gasping a little bit, both of them smiling uncontrollably.

"This was all I ever really wanted, Angel," said Crowley quietly.

"It's what I never knew I needed."

"What took us so long." This was from both of them at the same time, and they laughed a little. Aziraphale blushed a little. "Crowley..."

"Hm?"

"I'm glad you forced me to go to that night club."

Crowley grinned quite evilly. "That's good, because we're going back."

Aziraphale's eyes widenend. "What?"

Crowley just continued to grin.

Aziraphale gave him another small peck. "Mr. Crowley, you ARE evil."

"That's my job, Angel."

"So... what's this Ms. Hartman said about certain x-rated things that have been keeping her awake?"

Judging from the look on Crowley's face, Ms. Hartman wasn't going to be getting much sleep any time soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So I got enough feedback to write part II. (No thanks to people at my site, ALL the thanks to those at fanfiction.net. You like me, you really like me!) I'm thinking of maybe doing a part III, something warm and fluffy, but once again, I'll only do it if I feel you people want me to. So if you do, give me feedback!

Oh God, that was hideous. Take me back.
or
Oh God, that was hideous. Let me complain to the author.