A/N: And here I am, back with chapter 4. Now contains 90% fewer footnotes. Sorry for the delay folks.
Coincidentally, I still don't own the rights to Good Omens (not even one of the books in Aziraphale's lovely shop). Good Omens (c) Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchet

Chapter Four: In Which Some More Foreshadowing Takes Place and Crowley Has a Conversation

Aziraphale was sitting in the backroom of his bookshop when he heard the faint "tinkle" of the bell at the front door. Setting down his glass, Aziraphale went out to see who it was. Had Crowley come back? Peeking out into the main store area, the angel found that this was not the case. A customer? This late at night?

"Hello." Aziraphale walked out to greet the customer, giving the man a congenial, if confused, smile, "I'm afraid I'm closed at the moment but you can always come back tomorrow…"

The customer was a tall man, wearing battered black raincoat that flapped around his knees over a white dress shirt and black slacks. He had sharp brown-grey eyes, a slightly crooked nose, thin mouth, and dark brown –almost black- curly hair. He shouldn't have stood out in a crowd but as Aziraphale stood there talking to him, he began to feel… nervous? As if something were watching him? Something dark and unimaginably dangerous? "No, that's ridiculous," Aziraphale mentally chided himself. The man merely smiled, "Sorry to bother you then, I guess I didn't realize the shop was closed. I'll try to make it back later then. Thanks, anyway."

"Oh no, it's no trouble really." Aziraphale reassured the man, leading him out of the shop, "Feel free to come back any time- well, anytime the shop is open, that is."

The man was stepping out into the evening air, smiling and nodding and saying goodbye and the odd, niggling little feeling left with him.

Inside the shop, Aziraphale sighed and wandered back to his back room to pour himself another drink.

Outside the shop, the man stopped for a moment and stood, studying the shop and smiling to himself. But this was a different smile from the one he had given the angel. A more calculating, cruel smile. The kind of that might be described as being slightly… demonic?


A fell wind swept through the graveyard, snatching at Crowley's jacket and rattling the branches of the trees that grew beside the graveyard gate. Crowley froze. "Well, Crowley," Nastur asked, a disinterested smile pasted onto his face, "what have you been up to lately? You know, since you dissolved Ligur with holy water."

"Oh you know, this and that." Crowley shrugged, answering in a forced nonchalance, "I switched some magazine subscriptions, made parking meters run out before they were supposed. Nothing big. What have you been up to Nastur? You seem particularly pleased with yourself."

A grin split Nastur's face, making his lips seem even thinner than before. It was a genuine expression, if not anymore comforting than the last. "Yes. You could say that." Nastur agreed, asking, "Now Crowley, tell me, have you heard anything of Hell's latest plans?"

Crowley's eyebrow arched a little, a sneaking suspicion lurking in the demon's mind. What role did Nastur have to play in all this? Ever since Ligur's little incident, Nastur had taken his place at Hastur's side, following the higher-ranking duke around almost like some sort of demonic, back-stabbing puppy and Hastur was last entity Crowley wanted to be seeing. "I've only heard that something was being planned. I don't know what though. Why?"

The grin broadened, "Hastur has been put in charge and he has personally chosen me as his second in command for this job."

"Oh. Good for you. So, what is it?" Crowley stared blandly back at the grinning demon, "You didn't call me over here to brag, did you."

The grin faded a little, "No. I came to acquisition your assistance on a certain point. You see, there was a certain angel involved in the umm… apocalyptic delay. He ruined our plans, Crowley. We would have won the Final Battle, I am sure!" A sheer, malicious hatred flared up behind his eyes*.

"And?" Crowley asked, not pointing out his own involvement. It was becoming harder keep his calm. Where was Nastur going with this?

"And?" Nastur replied, "We will no longer rely on a human, a mere boy, to bring the battle we have been waiting for- We will strike out at the angels and start it ourselves! And we will begin with that … Principality who stood in our way." Nastur ground his teeth together. "So Crowley, you will help us find the angel. We believe he may be living in this area of England so surely you must have noticed something."

Silence from Crowley. A very nervous silence.

"Don't think your own role has been forgotten." Nastur added by way of casual threat.

Crowley sighed, "Look. I've been kind of busy lately but if I notice an angel wandering around shouting "I stopped the apocalypse!" I'll be sure to get in touch with you." Although Nastur gave no response, Crowley immediately regretted mouthing off to a superior demon like that.

A cellphone ring disturbed the tense silence and Nastur pulled a sleek silver phone out of his pants pocket, flipped it open, and held it to his ear.** Nastur began to laugh.

"Well?" Crowley asked, a chill of premonition racing up his spice.


*Admittedly, this isn't really a rare occurrence with demons

**This is the widely preferred method to answer a phone, after all.


The bell hanging above the door of a little used bookshop in Soho jangled, summoning the store's polite, if aggravated, owner out of his back room. He was certain he had locked the door this time. He saw a person standing in the shop. Just one. It was the same man from before, slipping a sleek silver phone into a pants pocket. "I'm sorry but I've already told you I'm closed for the evening." The flustered shopkeeper reminded him, "Please leave." The same nervous feeling had returned as well. Something terrible was about to happen. The man smiled.

"I'm afraid I'm not here to shop, angel."

Back in the graveyard, Nastur's grin had returned in full force. "I'm sure you'll be glad to know, Crowley," The words slipped out from between his teeth like oil dripping from an engine, "that we've already found him."


A/N: Once again, I would really appreciate if you took the time to write a review (even a little one).

On an unrelated note of interest, I found a neat little Question and Answer type deal for Aziraphale and Crowley- it can be found here:

.me/DemonCrowley and here: .me/AngelAziraphale

If you have time, go by and ask them a few questions, 'kay? :)