Disclaimer: I don't own Good Omens or any of the characters depicted herein.
It had been nine years since the Anti-Apocalypse. It had been nine years since A.J. Crowley and Aziraphale had directly defied the Ineffable Plan. Neither of them had heard a peep out of Heaven nor Hell since the little incident with the Anti-Christ. Heaven was busy finding jobs for thousands of now unemployed angelic warriors and Hell was frantically re-thinking its business strategy. It had been nine years that Crowley and Aziraphale had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.
To Crowley, this meant that whatever punishment Hell had cooked up for him was currently tangled up with the bureaucracy. Aziraphale simply thought that Heaven had forsaken him, and thus he had spent the last few years moping about his bookshop. He rarely took the time to thwart Crowley, as his heart simply wasn't in it. This had affected Crowley as well; without anyone to try and stop him, what fun was evil? It had always seemed to him that the angel was the only one to notice his various demonic deeds.
But things went on as usual. They still regularly met at the bench in Hyde Park to feed the ducks, they still went for lunch at the Ritz afterwards, and they still got absolutely blotto in the process. Today, however, was different. Crowley had been waiting in the park for over an hour. This worried him deeply, as Aziraphale was punctual to a fault. It was even more worrying since the demon himself had been over twenty minutes late.
Crowley threw another stale crouton at a duck in frustration. It beaned the duck on the head and flipped it upside down, its webbed feet paddling uselessly in the air. Crowley smiled faintly in satisfaction and resumed staring at his Rolex anxiously. He did not like to be kept waiting, even though he ended up sitting on that lonely park bench till well after sunset. After he had run out of croutons, Crowley resorted to throwing pebbles at the ducks.
The moon had risen well into the stars before he gave up and headed for the Bentley parked nearby. He flopped into the driver's seat and sunk into it dejectedly. Crowley had come to the realization that he had been stood up by Aziraphale. He briefly wondered whether breaking an appointment was a sin to angels and then decided to pay a visit to his tardy companion. Crowley was going to make sure Aziraphale didn't live this down for at least several hundred years.
He didn't feel like driving tonight. The car started as if by itself and the engine purred steadily, a small comfort to Crowley. He lazily steered between the other cars, letting the Bentley languish in the surrounding traffic. Crowley didn't dare try to use the CD player. When he had switched from cassettes, all his CDs had begun metamorphosing into Oasis rather than Queen. Crowley eventually got used to driving in silence. There were only so many times you could hear "Champagne Supernova" and remain sane.
Soon, he was parked in front of Aziraphale's shop. He didn't think it was possible, but the shop actually looked dusty from the street. It also was dark inside; there didn't seem to be a single lamp, electric or otherwise, lit in the entire place. Crowley raised an eyebrow at this and practically slithered out of the Bentley. The door to the shop swung open in front of him and he strode nonchalantly over the threshold.
Crowley glanced about the shelves. The dust, as always, was undisturbed. He went further, back to what could be loosely described as Aziraphale's living quarters. A stone cold, half-full cup of tea sat on the table, next to a pile of first editions. A Tale of Two Cities lay open on top of the pile, turned to the first page. To Crowley, it looked as if the angel had gotten an unexpected call from Above.
"It could be awhile before he gets back", Crowley thought to himself. He picked up A Tale of Two Cities and set it on the table in front of him and began to read out loud.
"It was the best of times; it was the worst of times..." He paused and continued talking to himself.
"Well, I guess I can wait around a little longer for him." A gin and tonic appeared in his hand as Crowley leaned the chair back on two legs.
"After all, I've got all the time in the world, haven't I?"
To Be Continued...