Compatibility

"So." Alex crossed his arms over his chest. "Let me get this straight. You," he pointed to Aziraphale, "are some sort of angel from Heaven—"

"Above," the blond bookkeeper corrected.

"—with the whole halo and wings gig," he finished, paying no heed to the interruption.

"Well, I don't have the halo, but the rest seems correct enough."

"And you," he gestured to the bookkeeper's side at the tall black-haired man wearing dark overly conspicuous sunglasses, "are a demon from…Below or Hell or whatever you call it. Do the devil horns and spiked tail come with the package?"

"Actually, I'm a snake."

This made the teenager pause. "A demonic snake."

"Yep."

"I'm recalling something about apples, Eden and original sin."

"That would be the one."

"I can go with that, I guess. Which begs the obvious question: Why the hell (pardon the pun ^^) are you here?"

Aziraphale spoke up. "Someone up There is under the impression that you could have quite the illustrious—"

"—or infamous—" Crowley added.

"—career, if you get a nudge in the right direction."

Alex tossed in over in his mind. Sure, he was Catholic. His whole family had been. He might not have attended church on any occasions besides Christmas and Easter, but running into biblical creatures was stretching his boundaries a little. "All right. I'll consider the possibility, seeing as I wind up in the midst of insane events more often than anyone alive. If I think this through logically, there are three conclusions. One. You two have a seriously warped sense of humor. Two. Some terrorists that I've PO'd have me on some kind of hallucinogenic drugs, although that would certainly be a first. Third. You're telling me the truth."

Crowley raised a dark, delicate eyebrow, eyes unreadable behind the shades. "You don't think we are the ones on drugs?"

"You two?" He snorted in amusement. "Hell no. I've seen people on drugs, and they don't act an iota of how you guys do. Anyhow. Assuming for the moment that I am as sane as you are, which I would certainly hope I am, let's see some proof."

"Proof?" The angel and demon exchanged glances. Aziraphale knitted his fingers together in front of his nose, steel-framed glasses perched precariously on the edge. "And what, dear boy, would suffice to prove our nature?"

"Show me your true forms."

The demon chuckled, and the angel adjusted his frames. "You don't play games, do you?" asked Crowley.

Alex made a circular motion with one hand, urging them to proceed.

They did.

The teenager nodded. "Good enough."

"Good enough?" Aziraphale stuttered. "You look upon the true forms of Above and Below, and all you say is 'good enough?'"

Even Crowley pulled his sunglasses down, staring at him with serpentine eyes. "That is a little unnerving. I was certain that Adam was the only Antichrist this millennium."

"It's no huge feat," Alex shrugged. "I've seen enough so called good and evil to understand that I can never understand it. By rationalizing, it takes the strain off of things. But we have a business arrangement to deal with, I believe."

"He does sound like Adam," Aziraphale muttered.

"You both tell me that I could be an either great or terrible person, and the sides you represent both want to hold some form of influence over my growth. I have this correct?"

"All in one," Crowley agreed, the angel nodding.

"Then tell your…principalities…that they can either leave me alone, or I will destroy—or whatever happens when you dump holy water on a demon and cursed water on an angel—the next ones that so much as seem like they're trying to do something." He said this all in a flat tone entirely devoid of emotion. "I intend on deciding my own path. No one decides how I live. Not anymore."

The angel and demon blinked. A seventeen-year-old mortal had just told them to f*** off.

Warmth returned to his voice. "Either way, I'm undecided. I've seen good and bad people surprise me with their actions. It's all in their intentions, and I don't know what mine are." With that said, he picked up the two grocery bags he had put down and strode at a leisurely pace back to his uncle's house. After a two week stint in Libya, he needed to re-stock the fridge. And then there was that schoolwork he had missed…

Aziraphale and Crowley watched him go until he turned a corner, leaving their view. They sat back down on the bench, where the ducks waited anxiously in the shallow waters, and laughed.

"Humans," Aziraphale giggled, removing his glasses to wipe the tears from his eyes, "can be so much fun."

Crowley leaned back in his seat, chin on his knuckles, and the occasional chuckle still seeping through as he chucked another crumb of bread at the ducks. "I'm so glad the world didn't end. There's nothing so humorous as watching humanity."

"I think I need a drink."

"I'll join you."

And that was what happened when Above and Below tried to reason with a teenager.

A/N: Just a drabble done on a loooong plane ride. There'll be one more coming up unless I get ideas for more. I also like reviews...