Disclaimer: Good Omens is property of literary gods, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.

In short - this is my first multi-chapter Good Omens fanfiction. I'm trying something different this time, so there won't be an overall arc/plot, but rather a series of unrelated one-shots. Set post-almost-Apocalypse, it's established Crowley/Aziraphale and will involve more domestic situations (as opposed to more Heaven/Hell/Apocalyptic situations). And I'm not going to deny - it's mostly going to be highly OOC, romantic, fluffy and sickly sweet (apologies in advance?). :D

Lastly the title comes from the Queen song, Teo Torriatte (Let Us Cling Together). It a favourite song of mine and seemed to fit. And well, I just couldn't resist (for obvious reasons). This chapter is more just a prologue and I do hope to be updating regularly. Hope you all enjoy and please leave a review. :)

Let Us Cling Together As The Years Go By - Prologue

It had been nearly a month since the almost-Apocalypse. For the better part of that time, Crowley and Aziraphale had remained in close contact. Equal amounts of time had been divided between Aziraphale's bookshop and Crowley's flat. Not that they'd planned it like that - it just happened that way.

"Have your people been in contact yet?" Aziraphale asked, watching from his position on the sofa as Crowley watered his plants.

"Just the once," Crowley replied conversationally, as though they were talking about the weather. "I told them to bugger off," he grinned manically down at one particularly poor looking plant and missed the faint look of surprise that crossed Aziraphale's face.

"And... were you asked to go back?"

Crowley looked up, more at Aziraphale's overly casual tone rather than the actual question. He was silent for a moment before answering. "Yes."

"And did you..? I mean, were you going to go back?" said Aziraphale hesitantly.

"They asked and I told them no," said Crowley simply.

"Okay," said the angel with a slight smile, but his tone still implied uncertainty as though he'd expected a different answer from the demon.

Crowley noticed the tone at once and he fixed Aziraphale with a hard stare, placing his plant mister down and walking away from it. "Why?" He demanded, unable to stop the worry that suddenly crept into him. "Were you going planning on going back? Have you..? Did..?" The demon didn't exactly have a heartbeat or breath, but he felt that if he did they both would have increased in panic.

"Oh, no no!" cried Aziraphale. And he rushed forward to grasp Crowley's arm. "I was just... wondering."

"Wondering?" Crowley repeated, only a little of his panic ebbing away. "Why would you even wonder, angel?"

Aziraphale blushed and looked away. "Well... if you ever wanted to go back, then I suppose I would too."

"So your people haven't been in touch yet," Crowley guessed instantly, passing over the pleasurable throb of belonging he felt at Aziraphale's statement. Under his breath he muttered incredulously, "and they're usually so simultaneous with these things."

Chuckling weakly, Aziraphale looked back at the demon. "Don't worry, dear. I was just... being silly... shouldn't have said anything..."

"No," disagreed Crowley. "I, I only chose to stay here in the hope that you would be staying too. My post-Apocalyptic plans were somewhat lacking, as you'd imagine and we never discussed anything." He shrugged. "I only hoped."

"Me too," said Aziraphale quietly. "I just wanted to check first."

"Aziraphale, you should know, Earth has been more of a home to me than Hell ever was." The demon's voice was honest and firm. "So I'm staying if you are, angel."

"Then I'm staying."

"Good," said Crowley, now grinning. "You can tell your people to bugger off when they arrive to make contact."

"I don't think I'll use that exact phrase," Aziraphale said with a return smile. "But something to that effect, yes."

Crowley bit back a nasty jab about the politeness of angels. "You shouldn't have worried," he said instead. "I've spent too much pre-Apocalyptic time getting to know you for it all to go to waste now. Besides," he blushed uncharacteristically, "I'd miss you if you ever left."

The angel beamed at him, disregarding any embarrassment. "The feeling is mutual, my dear."

"How about a drink?" Crowley suggested, not wanting to get caught up in any endearingly soft conversations. He didn't wait for Aziraphale to reply before offering him a glass of red wine which had suddenly appeared.

The angel took it appreciatively and held it up. "To life after the Apocalypse."

Crowley clinked his own glass against the other. "To life together."

To be continued...