Title:
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Crowley is one of the Knights of the Round Table. Aziraphale is the lady-in-waiting to one of the ladies of the Court.
Warnings: Slash. Oh yes. And Aziraphale in a dress. You know you love it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Good Omens or Crowley and Aziraphale. All those rights belong to the ever-talented Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. Lucky bastards. Anyway, I just write silly fanfictions to show my devotion to my favorite book. Hee.
Crowley sat and looked out upon King Arthur's Great Hall. The banquet for the newly dubbed knights -Crowley being one of them- was about to begin. The knights themselves were all seated at the feast, when in filed the young ladies of the Court, their ladies-in-waiting with them, carrying trains or helping milady to her seat. One particular lady-in -waiting caught Crowley's eye, and he smiled like a snake.
It had been quite awhile since Crowley had laid yellow-slitted eyes upon the former Angel of the Eastern Gate. Last time they were together, his name was still Crawly. It did not seem so out-of-place for Aziraphale to be wearing a dress, then, since the last time they were in the same vicinity, they were both wearing robes. However, Crowley found himself quite amused that the Angel was trying to pass himself off as female, which, admittedly, was a simple task for the delicate creature.
Aziraphale was pulling out a seat for his mistress, a pretty young lady with light brown curls and dark brown eyes. She was a contrast, indeed, to the light-haired, fair Angel behind her, who wore, rather than the refinement of one of the ladies of the Court, a simple white frock with an olive bodice and overskirt on top of that, decorated with a loopy design in silver thread. The bodice hugged Aziraphale's flat chest, and Crowley absently wondered how so many people could be fooled to think that he was female (or, indeed, even Human).
Crowley then looked to his own outfit, and compared the darkness of himself to the abundant light of his counterpart. Black leggings and boots, and a loose gray tunic. Somber and depressing when compared to just about any other person in the room, but then again, that's the way the Demon liked to look. His hair was shorter and (much) darker than Aziraphale's slightly-longer-than-shoulder-length-blonde, covering his yellow eyes and wisping around his ears. Said ears were adorned with a silver loop each, and Crowley was toying with one earring absent-mindedly, staring back over to Aziraphale. The Angel still hadn't noticed him, so involved was he in keeping milady pleased, which seemed to be quite a task.
While Crowley was thinking of how he could meet with and re-introduce himself to Aziraphale, King Arthur stood to announce the commencement of the feast. A loud cheer went up, and the sound of merry-making resumed, having been hushed when the Holy King had risen. Crowley sampled a little of every plate and barely spoke to anyone, still watching Aziraphale being verbally abused by his dark-haired maiden.
After the banquet, Crowley stealthily followed Aziraphale and his mistress up to the room they had taken up in the castle. After they had gone inside, Crowley waited directly across from the door they had entered, knowing the Angel would have to emerge sometime. Whether said Angel would be in the company of a certain snobby young lady, Crowley didn't know, but he figured he'd take his chances. He leaned against the opposite wall and folded his arms, listening to soft voices from within.
About fifteen minutes later, the door opened, and out stepped the very person Crowley was waiting for. Aziraphale had been looking down when he exited the room, but after closing the door and turning back to see Crowley, he gasped and a hand flew to his chest. Upon realizing who it was, however, he closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. The Snake had changed very little since their last meeting in Greece. His hair was a bit longer (though nowhere near as long as it had been in Eden), and his clothing was different, but his aura of overall smugness was the same.
"Crawly, you nearly gave me a heart attack! What're you doing here..?" Aziraphale asked, still clutching at his bodice.
"It's Crowley now, Aziraphale. And you can't have a heart attack. You have no pulse. As for what I'm doing here, I'm one of the Knights of the Round Table. Oh, and it's good to see you too," Crowley responded, pushing off the wall without uncrossing his arms. He stood a few inches taller than his Angelic counterpart, and so Aziraphale had to look up when responding to him.
"Of course, it's wonderful to see you too, Crowley," was his reply. He chose to ignore the sarcasm and teasing in the Demon's comment.
"You look very...pretty, Angel. Trying to pass yourself off as a girl..?"
"Well, it was the simplest job to take, and one had to be female. Though, I don't know exactly how convincing I am..."
"Oh, you're convincing, alright."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?" Aziraphale shot, not rudely.
"Both, I suppose. But seriously, Angel, you look good. It's great to see you after so long." Crowley unfolded his arms and flicked the silver loop that hung from Aziraphale's ear. The earrings had been a sign of the Arrangement. Like wedding bands, only less obvious. Aziraphale turned slightly pink when Crowley did this, and the Demon merely smirked, nodded, and turned away, waving to his friend while walking away.
Aziraphale watched Crowley's retreating back long after the Demon had gone, touching the molested earring lightly, still blushing. He decided that is was, indeed, nice to see Crowley after so long.
It was very nice to see Crowley.