Good Omens and all characters related are property of Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.

Chapter 11

Wedding plans

Aziraphale is working on a report when her office's phone rings. She looks up, startled, since she's not used to it ringing. Very few people call her on that number; actually, very few people call her at all. And since the people who normally do call (Michel and James) are working on offices very close by, she can't imagine who'd be calling.

"Hello?" she holds the receiver far from her ear, as if she's afraid it'll explode.

"Hello to you too, Ms. Engel"

She recognizes the voice right away, but she knows better than to start calling him by his name. After all, every line in the office is being constantly monitored to make sure nobody is up to something fishy and she knows for sure that being called by an enemy agent will land her in a lot of trouble. So she takes a deep breath and responds "This isn't what I had in mind when I told you to call me on Thursday"

"Oh, you didn't specify, Ms. Engel. You just challenged me to get your phone number"

"Who gave it to you, anyway?"

"Your fiancé's secretary. Madam Tracy, I believe?"

"Why… how… when…?" she's at loss of words and she can practically see Crowley smirking at her, pleased at her confusion "why would you call my fiancé?"

"Well, for starters, his number IS listed on Heaven's internet page. Then, I guessed that I might just as well talk to him if I couldn't get you, but Madam Tracy was very accommodating…"

"Are you nuts? You were going to talk to James?"

"Of course, Ms. Engel. It's not usual for the groom to actually get involved in the wedding planning, but I figured that if you weren't going to cooperate…"

She rolls her eyes. So this is Crowley's story; he's her wedding planner? Really, the things that man comes up with… "Well, now you have my number. What now?"

"Oh, I was thinking we could meet tomorrow at this lovely bakery really close to St. James Park"

"A bakery?"

"Yes, Ms. Engel. I'm thinking that we should start by choosing the wedding cake. You seem quite fond of pastries" Aziraphale blushes lightly, placing a hand over her belly unconsciously and glares at the phone. She does have a sweet tooth, but she hates when people mention it.

"Right. Let's say… 5 o'clock?"

"Sounds perfect, Ms. Engel" she can perfectly picture Crowley's smug smirk and she rolls her eyes "See you then. Have a nice day"

And he hangs up. Aziraphale sighs, resting her elbows on the table and burying her head in her hands. Why did she accept Crowley's invitation? She's in for trouble if someone ever finds out what she's doing. Of course, she'll be careful and hopefully she'll avoid anyone discovering her, but still, she shouldn't be sneaking around. There's no reason to.

Except… well, she does like Crowley. She enjoys his company and if she's honest with herself, she craves his attention. But those are very dangerous thoughts. She tries to remind herself that he's the enemy and that this is just business, but she fails every time. She knows she should ask Michel to replace her on this mission, yet she can't bring herself to admit that this might be too much for her to handle. In part because she takes great pride on how good she's at her work and also because…

She doesn't want to stop seeing Crowley.

This is madness. This is proving she has a death wish. This is suicide. She rubs her temples, trying to ease the headache she's starting to feel. She's worrying too much. Maybe she just needs to let go. Go with the flow, see where it takes her. But that goes against all her instincts, all her training, all her principles.

She stands up and starts pacing around the office. She closes her eyes, trying to relax. She takes deep breaths and tries to convince her upset stomach that throwing up it's not a good idea. God, the stress is going to kill her!

She seriously considers not showing up the next day but as soon as she thinks it, she dismisses the idea. She can't do that. It wouldn't be polite. Not that she should care about being polite to her enemy, but…

Sighing, she collapses on her chair. She wants to go home, take a nice long bath, settle down on her bed with a cocoa mug along with a good book and pretend none of this is happening. It does sound like a nice plan; so nice in fact, that she considers going to Michel's office, proclaim she's sick and doing just that.

She glances at her half-finished report and feels a little guilty. She really shouldn't go home just yet, but she doesn't think she'll be able to concentrate anyway. However, if she leaves early today, she might not finish in time for her meeting with Crowley the next day…

Oh, what to do?

Just then, there's a knock on the door and when she looks up, she finds her fiancé standing in the doorway. Great, just what she needs "Hi James. Need something?"

It comes a little rude, she knows, but she can't bring herself to care. She's stressed and confused and he's certainly not helping to improve her mood "Madam Tracy says you found a wedding planner"

Good Lord, what did she do to deserve this? Aziraphale forces herself to smile sweetly while she prays he won't ask too many questions or ask to meet him and answers "Yes. He's quite… insistent"

James nods, even if he's staring at her suspiciously. Aziraphale tries to look calm and collected, but she's not sure she's succeeding "That's nice. I was beginning to think you had gotten cold feet"

Once more she tries to smile "Not at all. I'm just a little overwhelmed. It's a lot to plan"

"I know" he comes closer and she has to force herself not to flinch when he leans down to kiss her "I'm glad you found someone to help you" another kiss and Aziraphale is starting to feel worse. Now she's feeling stressed, confused and guilty.

She hates it.

"Do you want to come over my apartment tonight?" he asks her in a husky tone and now she's sure she's about to throw up. The guilt is eating her inside, although she's not quite sure if there's something she should be feeling guilty for. It's not like she's cheating and while she does fancy Crowley, her main concern is how her superiors might perceive her unscheduled meeting with an enemy agent, not the attraction she feels towards said enemy agent. Still…

"I'm not feeling well" she confesses, looking apologetic "I think I'll rather go home and sleep"

Her fiancé frowns "You can also do that at my place. Well, technically, it's our place"

She can't think like that. There's just something wrong with thinking of James' apartment as home, instead of the small apartment over her bookstore. "Yes, well, I… I'm not really the best company right now"

Once more he's frowning and she tries to smile reassuringly, but she's pretty sure she fails miserably "Alright. Do as you please" he kisses the top of her head and walks away "See you around, Aziraphale"

She nods and as soon as he's out of sight, she lets her head hit her desk. This is a nightmare.

And she just wants to wake up.

She doesn't sleep well on Thursday night and it shows in her general appearance. She's also a little groggy and has to fight back yawns the whole day. By 5 o'clock she's certainly not in the best mood, but that somehow changes the moment she steps into the bakery and the delicious smell of the pastries reaches her nose.

Her mood improves even more when she sees Crowley standing next to the counter, talking to the baker. He's skimming through what seems a wedding cakes' catalogue and Aziraphale rolls her eyes. He's taking his part quite seriously.

"Ah, angel! You're here!" he exclaims after seeing her and she can't help to smile as she steps closer to him "Look at this. Doesn't it look delicious?"

It does. It's a chocolate cake that looks like it could cause someone a sugar-induced coma, but it certainly looks delicious. However… "I'm not sure chocolate is a good idea"

Crowley frowns "You love chocolate"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Would you and your fiancée like to try some of your selections, Mr. Serpentone?"

Aziraphale rolls her eyes at Crowley's choice of false name and then she registers what the baker has just asked "He's not my fiancé" she assures him, glaring darkly at Crowley who's smirking at her.

"No. I'm the wedding planner"

"Oh" the baker says, blushing lightly "My apologies then, Miss…?"

"Fell" she responds, using the false name she always gives when she's not working "Angela Fell"

Crowley arches his eyebrows ironically at her and she glares at him. "Would you like to take a seat?" the baker offers, noticing the rising tension between them and Aziraphale just nods. They are lead to a small table in the back of the shop and then the baker disappears, presumably to get the cake samples.

"So, Mr. Serpentone. You really used that name when you called my fiancé?"

Crowley shrugs "It worked, didn't it?"

"Yes. But James would have seen through it right away"

He smirks "We both know he wouldn't have really talked to me. He's too important and too busy to be expected to deal with something as trivial as wedding planning. Besides, all of that could have been avoided if you had just given me your mobile phone's number"

"Oh, but where would the fun be on that?"

Crowley shakes his head, amused "Well, I've always enjoyed a good chase. Especially when there's such a lovely prize at stake"

She blushes profusely as a wave of warmness hits her whole body. She's not sure what he's implying with that statement, but it has certainly had an effect on her. She looks away, unsure of how to answer that as is quite thankful when the baker reappears, bringing with him a tray with 5 delicious looking cake slices.

She smiles as the tray is put in front of her and immediately chooses the chocolate one. Crowley smirks at her as she makes a soft moaning sound at how tasty it is "Told you. You love chocolate"

"Yes" she takes another bite and once more, she moans softly "but James hates chocolate"

"There you have it. Another reason why you shouldn't marry him"

She takes a deep breath "Crowley…"

"Right, right. We won't discuss it" he agrees quickly and she must admit she feels a little relieved. She really doesn't want to discuss her relationship with him. Not right now, at least. He takes a different cake and takes a bite, smiling at her the whole time "Maybe angel's cake, then. He'd appreciate the joke, right?"

Aziraphale glares half-heartedly at him "I'm not a fan of angel's cake"

"There's just no way of pleasing you, is there?" Crowley asks, sarcastically "How do you expect to plan a wedding when what you want won't match your fiancé's tastes?"

"I'll find a way" she shrugs, taking a piece of Crowley's cake "Weren't you supposed to buy me dinner?"

"Of course. After we're done here"

"I don't think that would be a good idea. Can't imagine eating the dessert before the actual meal"

Crowley raises his eyebrows suggestively, but she doesn't notice. Or maybe she just chooses to pretend not to notice. "Maybe we should go drinking instead"

"Sounds like a plan" Crowley agrees, taking a piece of her cake "I've got a couple of bottles of champagne in my car" as she arches her eyebrows, he adds "I thought we should go to your apartment this time. It's only fair"

Aziraphale hums, taking a bite from a third cake "Can't really argue with your logic" she makes a face as she shallows "This tastes awful"

"Cherry cake" Crowley informs her, taking a little bite for himself "not a fan, definitely" he adds, making a face too. Aziraphale laughs, taking a piece of a different cake.

"So, was your plan to get horribly drunk at my apartment the whole time?"

"Well, I was hoping you'd agree. But if not, I had a plan B which included a nice dinner, with even nicer wine and then talking your ear off till you agreed to at least accompany me to my flat"

She nods sagely "Well, I've just saved you a lot of work, haven't I?"

"Yes. How nice of you, Ms. Fell"

She rolls her eyes and keeps on eating. She's enjoying herself; she has to admit that this has been a great way to spend her birthday. Normally she wouldn't even acknowledge the date, but after these few minutes together, she can already say it's going to be a great birthday.

Too bad she's not supposed to be here at all.

"So, have you made up your mind?"

The baker stares at Aziraphale expectantly and she eyes the now empty tray, smiling "Yeah, I think so" she glances longingly at the plate that used to have the chocolate cake and finally answers "The cherry one, I think. For 100 people?"

"Of course, Ms. Fell" the baker agrees "shall I show you some designs?"

"Yes, please"

Crowley just shakes his head and once the baker is gone, he says "You hated the cherry one"

"James loves cherries"

"Do you need me to point out yet another reason why you shouldn't marry the man?"

Aziraphale rolls her eyes "I don't want to discuss it, Crowley"

He looks ready to argue, but the baker comes back and interrupts them. Afterwards, the settle in an uncomfortable silence that Aziraphale is not sure how to break "It's your life, Aziraphale" he whispers, darkly "but I really think you should re-think this whole marriage business. Why are you marrying, anyway? It's not like it'll benefit you somehow"

Aziraphale stares at the catalogue the baker has given her. She bits her lip and answers truthfully, even if she knows it's a terrible idea "I know better than to say no"

"What does that mean?"

She shakes her head, knowing she has already said too much "Never mind. Just let me choose a design and we can get started with the rest of your plan, huh?"

Crowley nods, even if it's obvious this conversation is far from over. He'll want to know what does she mean and she can't really explain. Not now, maybe not ever. There are things she´d rather not think too much about.

Funny how, even after 12 years, her past keeps haunting her.

Well, maybe not so funny.

So… what do you think? Please, please, let me know! I'm dying to hear your thoughts on the story so far!

Thanks for reading.