AUTHOR: CobraGirl
RATING: G
FANDOM: Good Omens
SUMMARY: In the beginning, there was an angel and a demon. (Written for therealjae's Secrets Vignette Challenge.)
ARCHIVE: Ask and ye shall receive.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Theirs. *points to Gneil and Pterry*
DATE COMPLETED: April 21, 2003
Aziraphale hadn't expected to see Crawly again after the...incident...in Eden. It would be rather odd for him to stick around, after all - like two enemies deciding to go out for dinner and a spot of tea (a recent invention he had taken quite a liking to).
But every now and then Aziraphale would see a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye, hear a hint of sibilance in a voice, and turn to find Crawly. The old snake never spoke; if he met Aziraphale's eyes, he would simply flick his tongue and give him a little wink. More of a wordless taunt, really, than a meeting.
A wile of some sort usually followed, and Aziraphale would intervene with as little outward show as possible, keeping his eyes fixed on Crawly all the while. Satisfied, the demon would fade back into the crowd, always to resurface several months later with a new bit of activity to be thwarted.
They eventually worked their way up to actual conversation in 310 AD.
"You know, I'd apologize for the last few thousand years, but I was only doing my job," said Crawly - or Crowley, as he liked to be called now - as they wandered through the streets of Rome. Aziraphale had an important meeting with the Emperor, but with Crowley around, he supposed it would have to wait a few more years.
"Yes, as I was only doing mine," he said. "I wouldn't expect any different of you. But really, dear, you don't think the incident with the fires was a bit over the top?"
"Nah." The demon waved his hand dismissively. "I could have made it a lot worse, trust me. It's one of those things...I don't know."
"What?"
"Well...." Crowley trailed off again and shrugged. "I never really meant for this to happen, y'know? The whole Falling business."
He wiggled his fingers for emphasis, causing a nearby woman to clutch her stomach in pain. Aziraphale glanced her way, swiftly removed the bacteria from her bloodstream, and turned back to Crowley.
"'Falling business?'" he repeated.
"Yeah. You get someone like me, you get someone like Lucifer, what do you think is gonna happen? It wasn't like I sat up one day and said, 'Hey, wouldn't it be neat if I got tossed out of Heaven?' And it wasn't even a proper Fall, it was more of a...vague downward motion."
He shrugged again. His voice, though, sounded strange to Aziraphale's ears. Something clicked.
"This is why you've stayed near me since Eden, isn't it?" he asked quietly. "You miss it. You miss Heaven."
There was a long, deadly silence. If looks could inconveniently discorporate....Crowley let out a loud hiss, raw venom in the sound, and fled.
Twenty years later, he turned up on Aziraphale's doorstep. There was a new delicacy making the rounds in Asia, he said casually - something with fish and seaweed. Would he be interested in visiting the continent with him?
Rather odd, indeed.
(end)