Disclaimer: Crowley and Aziraphale (despite being a hot rockstar in my head who I'd totally be a groupie of) are not characters of my own creation. Neither is the book Good Omens.

Author's Note: Maybe I should change this story's category from Humor to General or something...

ALL IN A LIFETIME'S WORK
Chapter 6

Just over a week has passed since their trip to Oprah's studio in Chicago.

Gabriel noted with great interest the change in Aziraphale's disposition the morning of the first rehearsals. He furtively followed around the Principality, eyebrow arched, watching Aziraphale smile more, talk more and what was this?-- attempt more of the stage choreography - though it wasn't to say he was improving. Most of the dance instructors and choreographers have almost deemed Azira as a lost cause and resorted to well-placed, walks and turns and twists executed in sync with the dancers - enough to make it look like the singer was 'dancing' while taxing none of his limited skills . Gabriel smiled at this, and kept it to himself.

The following days, he noted once again in amusement Aziraphale's newfound tolerance through final costume fitting for the upcoming concert. There were none (or well, maybe just one or two) of the usual protests against the 'flashy-clothes-only-a-demon-would-wear'and practically no whining about the 'hi-techy-be-boppy' stuff Gabriel's visual effects engineers were installing onsite.

Costume rehearsals went without a hitch, and the archangel had not heard a single peep from Aziraphale. He was deeply pleased.

Getting the demon on-board was a good choice after all.

Gabriel didn't really consider this to be consorting with the Enemy. Rather, he thought of it as more like an arranged convenience with someone who happened to be the enemy. Besides, Aziraphale needed the company. Gabriel feared many times that had the Principality been mortal, he's have suffered an emotional breakdown in less than 3 months into their assignment. The archangel felt for his celestial brother, it was hard enough to be stationed alone on Earth for the last few thousand years and now, Heaven had to uproot him and take him from everything that made him feel secure. Gabriel sometimes suspected that this was some sort of payback for Aziraphale's role in the failed-armageddon, but he liked to think their side wasn't that vindictive. Anyway, it wasn't as if Heaven wasn't aware of the demon's relationship with Aziraphale. A wholly unprecedented turn of events for sure, but amazingly tolerated by Him. If He would not touch the two, then who was Gabriel to go against it?

Gabriel stood quietly, smiling backstage as he watched Aziraphale practice the opening choreography with his backup dancers, Crowley sitting just a-ways off pretending not to be interested. His fellow angel was luckier than he thought he was; to have the singular love of another individual; but more importantly; Aziraphale was a greater embodiment of goodness than most of his brethren could hope to be - for who has a heart to love the greatest of enemies?

*******

Aziraphale could hear the hustle of people just outside his dressing room - the orchestrated madness that was always any huge production such as this. Aziraphale found it unsettling while Crowley practically revelled in it.

"Nervous, angel?"

Aziraphale sniffed, "Of course not." though he was already feeling the jitters which always came before he stepped onstage. He'll never get used to it, he surmised. "I don't suppose you'll understand the feeling anyway Crowley."

The demon grinned, "Nope. I suppose not." He scrutinized the angel's appearance, never in a thousand years could he have thought Aziraphale would look so... delicious. For sure, he's always thought the angel was beautiful, but never had Aziraphale been the complete package of up-to-date fashion, youth and impeccable styling all at once.

Aziraphale must have noticed the look, and found himself blushing. "Don't look at me like that Crowley." he said quietly, and tried to smooth out non-existent wrinkles in his white faux-leather jacket, a pair of stylized wings were embroidered on the back .

"Like what?" the demon's eyes took in the rest of Aziraphale's countenance, tight blue jeans and a gray shirt which complemented the angel's pale eyes.

"Like that. I don't need to see past those sunglasses to know."

There was a sharp knock on the door; "10 minutes Azira."

"Yeah, I'll be right out." Aziraphale called back and turned to check himself in the mirror one last time. He picked up a waiting white fedora and put it on. "Wish me luck?"

Crowley smiled, "Break a leg, angel." Aziraphale was about to open the door when he added quickly; "Then they'll have to let you get some rest. Maybe let you sleep in til you heal up."

"Don't be such a sourpuss, my dear." Aziraphale leaned forward to give the demon a kiss, but was stopped by a couple of fingers on his lips.

A mischievous smiled played upon Crowley's face, "Save it for later, I'll be looking forward to it."

The angel was blushing furiously, but nonetheless pulled away with a glowing smile. "Later then, I'll see you in a bit." He gave Crowley's fingertips a quick kiss then left to sing for his adoring fans.

*******

The stage was set, the opening act done, and the noise was deafening. crowley found himself a comfortable nook to watch unseen, still quite amazed at the sight. Never had he imagined a setting like this, but then again, he's never imagined a lot of the things he's just seen Aziraphale do over the past weeks. A smiled formed at the corners of his thin lips, yes, Aziraphale learned new things to do too in bed that he'd never thought the angel would. A sense of anticipation resurged in the pit of his stomach. He was indeed looking forward to hearing 'Azira'sing, but he was definitely looking forward to their after-party.

The fans were chanting his angel's name, security doing its best to keep the crowd in check (Crowley successfully tempted one though into breaking away from formation to grab a hotdog the man's been longing for all night - doesn't mean a demon should be taking a break while the powers of good were basically trouncing upon evil tonight, even if he was here technically just to watch); the dancers dressed as rather attractive imps were gyrating in-sync onstage. The light show was awesome, the stage bathed in red and streams of laser lights. Crowley had sat through rehearsals and knew the sequence, yet it was entirely different watching the show replete with the lights, the defeaning sounds and the roaring crowd. The music was upbeat and as be-bop as Aziraphale could describe anything, working the audience in anticipation for Azira's appearance. The beats came up to a crescendo, the dancers circling towards the center and the fog machine turned on in perfect synchronicity as the lights in the concert hall died simultaneously and a single blue-white spotlight trained itself where the dancers were posed.

There was silence for but a moment, the audience were still, holding their breaths, even Crowley found himself doing the same. A dais raised itself from underneath the stage, rising above the heads of the dancers and stopping as the beggining of Azira's song 'Longing' started playing. There was a moment of confusion though and the crowd suddenly erupted into screams.

Crowleys eyes were wide and mouth agape, he was on his feet in a second.

Aziraphale was nowhere to be found; his micophone and fedora lying messily discarded on the raised stage. The hat was the most damning; its white stained with blood so black under the blue light.