Have You Heard?
Disclaimer – I'd own all but a couple of the angels mentioned here, but I'm afraid they're Vouched For. By Someone. Anyone else you recongnise is the reason this belongs under the Good Omens Fanfiction Category.
AN: Inspired by a fanfic I read and was written a while back. There will be two optional endings.
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There was a party going down in Heaven.
This, actually and surprisingly, wasn't that much of a big deal. Parties happened all the time in Heaven – it was part of the whole shtick. Every time anyone repented from their evil ways, the angels threw a do. Usually with tea, scones and ginger beer.
Presently, a small group of angels were approached by one of Gabriel's under-messengers. He was hurrying towards them with a look on his face which, if it hadn't been on an angel, might have been called devious.
"Have you heard?" asked the new angel with an exited air.
"Heard what?"
"Who the new redeemed person is, of course!"
One of the group sighed.
"There are always new souls in heaven."
The remark wasn't didn't have the tone of someone being mean. It was merely stating a fact.
The messenger angel grinned brightly. He looked like a cupid who had just had his old bow and arrow set replaced with, well, a much bigger bow and arrow set. With add-ons.
"You'll never guess who it is!" he continued, regardless of the disparaging looks of the other angels disregarding his news.
"Go ahead and tell us then," said one. Since it would make the messenger happy.
"It's Kireal!"
Every angel in the vicinity stared. That name. . . had not been spoken in a very, very long time. A lashing of ginger beer sprayed around one angel, and another choked on a piece of manna bread shaped like party food.
"Him? You – you – must have misheard."
No one thought for one instant that the messenger might have been joking, or that there might have been a mistake. To joke with this would have meant to lie, and angels who made mistakes at Gabriel's level didn't tend to stay as angels for very much longer.
"I didn't mishear," insisted the messenger. "It's true. He's back."
"But he can't e back," said the angel who had spewed ginger beer everywhere. His companions nodded amongst themselves.
"After all," said another, "look at what he's done. It's not that I disagree with any Higher decisions or anything – it's just. . . rather unlikely."
"Well, yes," said the messenger. "But like you say – Higher decisions and all. You can't second guess some things."
"Besides," said one quietly and with a shaky voice. "It's not like he could've ever been the same as all the others on the other side. Think about that thing that – uh, didn't happen."
One of the elder angels elbowed the one that had just spoken.
"We're not supposed to think about the Thing That Didn't Happen," he said in a stage whisper that everyone could hear.
"Well, yes," said the former, mostly unperturbed. "But wasn't that where, I mean when, he first gained the attention of the Higher Ups?"
Contemplative silence greeted the rhetoric statement. It certainly wasn't something that they could argue over. Averting the end of the world as some knew it generally was a way to get one noticed.
"So, uh, where exactly is Kireal, now?" asked the angel who had choked on party food manna.
"I, uh, actually, I haven't actually been able to see him per se. I, you know, the message just got passed along." The messenger seemed of a sudden awfully nervous. "And I've, uh, also heard that he doesn't go by Kireal any more. Heard that he answers to Crowley."
Blank stares, which he answered with a shrug. The kind of shrug that said 'Yes, I know it's silly. No, I don't know why. . . let's just humour the poor boy for know, all right?'.
"Maybe," started the previously quiet one before the messenger could continue, "he's not quite Here yet."
They all ignored the vague hope that had come with what he had said. Mostly because they all felt the same.
"Ah, no," said the messenger, wincing slightly. He expanded. "Not, that is, unless 'In a meeting with the Archangel Michael' counts as not in Heaven. And I rather think it does."
Various of the angels gathered winced in sympathy. Sometimes, there were some things other than demons that an angel had to have support for. Bureaucracy was one of those things. The Archangel Michael was another.
"Hey," said someone suddenly. "I just remembered. Wasn't Aziraphale a part of Michael's old team for a while?"
"Oh. You mean the one who lost his sword? Who got stationed on Earth?"
"Yeah. That one. I heard that he had something to do with all this. Does anyone know what happened to him?"
There was a short silence. Then a sound like that of bells in a soft wind as the angels talked amongst themselves.
"You know," said the messenger, who was mostly unheard and in the midst of it all, "that's actually a very good question. . ."