Disclaimer: I don't own Good Omens. If I were Neil Gaiman, I would own Good Omens. Of course, if I were Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere would so have the marquis and Richard snogging in the end. ; If you sue me...Then my mom will beat you up!
A/N: Ooooh. Right. So, tonight I didn't feel like reading fanfiction--because I'm too lazy to search through all of the crap to find the few pieces worthy of my attentions /snicker/--and I've had the first paragraph of this baby hanging around since I read Good Omens...which was..like...July.. ;...So...don't get terribly mad if some of the crap is way off, mmk? And..as to What They Didn't Tell Him--or whatever the hell it's called../has forgotten/ Well...I don't feel like writing that..because the next chapter should be Snape explaining things...Which will be difficult to write seeing as I have no idea what's going on...
It was five years after the Almost-Armaggedon when Aziraphale saw Adam again. He was sitting in the back of his bookshop, drinking tea, when the faint jingle from the front of the shop alerted him to the presence of a potential buyer.
Though his first instinct was to duck behind the armchair he was currently residing in and to pretend that the shop was empty, he rejected that idea when he realized that the customer could steal—or deface!—one of his precious books. And that was something Aziraphale couldn't—wouldn't—stand for.
So instead of hiding, he stood up and tiptoed towards the doorjamb. Peering out into the shop, he was surprised to see the curly, golden mop of hair that he recognized from the army base. Aziraphale jumped backwards—straight into the table that was holding his neglected cup of tea—when that head swiveled in his direction.
What to do what to do! Aziraphale had been given strict orders to stay away from all of the mortals involved with "That Incident" as Heaven liked to refer to it—when they referred to it at all. And now there was the cause of The Incident, in his front room. Heading for him right now, if those footsteps were any indicator.
Panicking, Aziraphale swiped the cell phone that Crowley had given him a few months ago and dialed the number one before punching the send button. Realizing that the boy would soon be at the door, Aziraphale did the only thing possible in a situation such as this: He slammed the door shut and turned the little lock. That would keep the boy out.
Except…He was the son of Satan. That had to grant him some sort of door-opening power, didn't it?
Pick up the bloody phone, Crowley!
Finally, Crowley drawled "Hello"
"Crowley! Help!" Aziraphale shrieked.
"Wha? Aziraphale, is that you? Do you have any idea what time it is?"
In fact, Aziraphale did know what time it was. It was noon. There was no excuse for that sleepy tone. He told Crowley so.
"Yes, well. Some of us actually have to work. And sometimes that work will run overtime. As a result, I didn't get my full twelve hours sleep. So I was catching up."
"You don't need to sleep!" Aziraphale cried. "You need to get the bloody hell over here right now and help me! I don't know what to do! A-adam is here!"
"Adam..? Why, Azzy you old dog! Finally sampling some of the 'sins of the flesh'? About time, I say."
Aziraphale fairly growled at the glee apparent in Crowley's voice. "Shut up, you twit!"
But Crowley paid his phone companion no mind. "So, you've wooed this boy, and now you're not sure what to do, eh? Good idea to call me. I'm well acquainted with this kind of situation-"
"Crowley!" Aziraphale forgot his predicament for a moment in order to be aghast at what he was getting from the conversation. "Do you mean to tell me that you have engaged in sexual situations with mortals!"
"'Course I have, you silly angel. And good thing I have, too. Otherwise what a situation you'd be in! Now, after wooing said Adam, you must undress him. I would hope that you would know at least that mu-"
"Crowley you fool! I'm not…wooing Adam! You must remember Adam! From-" here he lowered his voice, as though some angel would hear him and report him to God "Almost-Armageddon!"
There was silence on the other end.
"That Adam? Why are you wooing him? Gosh. I mean, he was an alright looking kid, but, him? You could have wooed me!" Aziraphale felt a bit shocked at the depressed tone Crowley had acquired.
"I'M NOT WOOING ANYONE!" he shouted. "He's here—in my bookshop! I've locked myself in the back room, but I'm not sure what good a bloody door is going to do against the bloody son of Satan!"
"What!" yelled Crowley.
"And what in the hell do you mean 'You could have wooed me'!" Aziraphale screeched.
"Er." replied Crowley. "I'll-I'll be there in a minute! Just sit tight!"
"What did you mean 'You could have wooed me'!" Aziraphale repeated. It was only after he'd finished the statement that he realized Crowley had hung up on him. Coward.
A/N: Review if you want. I'm not sure where I'm going with this...