Disclaimer: Aziraphale, Crowley, and Good Omens are created and copyrighted by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. This is a fanfic, intended only in the spirit of fun. Tons of love and thanks is owed to the amazing and wonderful Daegaer, who provided tons of feedback for the first half of the fic, and then ended upsomehow volunteering herself as a beta-reader and a proofreader, and who helped me correct many of my Americanisms with proper British English. And thanks to y'all for reading!

Ordinary Miracles

by Nenena

Chapter 12

Graham, Billy. 1996. Breakfast with Billy Graham: 120 Daily Readings. Vine Books, Ann Arbor, Michigan. BV4811.G617

For a wonderful, delirious moment, Theo could almost believe that he was back in America, sitting on a bar stool in a roadside dive somewhere along the back roads of the Minnesota wilderness, on a camping trip or a hiking trip, out with his family. The chrome interior decor, the smell of frying bacon, the pleasant rumble in his stomach, and the tingling in his legs that signaled a break in a long and tiresome road trip - each sight, each smell, each sensation was so wonderfully familiar, so deliciously nostalgic! Then Theo glanced down and took a good look at the plastic-laminated menu that he was holding in his hands. He saw that the breakfast menu included baked beans in ketchup and blood pudding, and then reality came crashing back down around him. He was very much dead. He was very much in trouble with Heaven, he was very much currently being held hostage by a lunatic Satan and his lawyer, and... He was very hungry, and, most unfortunately, he was stuck on a northern island on the wrong side of the Atlantic, famous for hosting the worst cuisine in the Western hemisphere.

Theo sighed wearily and slumped down in his seat. "I hate my life," he muttered.

Aziraphale patted his back reassuringly. "There, there. You must be wrong about that. You're dead, remember?"

Theo glanced up at him, and something in his face must have looked miserably wretched, because Aziraphale immediately became flustered and somewhat embarrassed. "Er, sorry, was that the wrong sort of thing to say?"

"Yes."

"Sorry," Aziraphale said again, obviously at a loss as to what else he could say.

" 'S okay," Theo mumbled. At least the angel cared. He couldn't say or do anything right, but at least he still cared, and at least he was still trying.

Theo and Aziraphale were sitting on bar stools in front of a grease-stained counter that ran the length of a little off-road diner that had just opened a few moments ago. The demons were sitting in a booth at the opposite end of the restaurant, apparently determined not to order anything, trying desperately to make conversation with each other, although Crowley only wanted to talk about his knitting, Lucifer wanted to listen to himself whine about how wretched he had become, and Pauline wanted to sit silently and brood about all of the ways that she was going to make Theo suffer for an eternity if he couldn't kill the runaway miracle and reverse all of its changes within the next twenty-four hours. They had segregated themselves, Theo thought with some amusement, as neatly and efficiently as the boys and the girls always segregated themselves at all the junior high school dances he had ever attended. Demons on one side of the restaurant, angels on the other.

They were, Theo realized, pretty far away from each other.

And it was a big restaurant. He and Aziraphale were definitely out of the Devil's reach, at least for the moment.

Theo leaned over to Aziraphale and whispered as quietly as he dared, "We could bolt. Now."

"Excuse me?"

"We could run for it."

"But they have the car."

"We can run into the woods and the wetlands, where they can't follow."

"Theo, we can't leave them now." Aziraphale placed one heavy, sad hand on Theo's shoulder. "Just look at the poor dears. It's our fault, and it's because of our miracle, that they ended up this way in the first place. We have to take responsibility for our mistake. If we stay with them, we have a good chance of actually being able to hunt the miracle down."

Theo stared at his menu, and then at the greasy countertop, for a long time.

Then he finally sighed, blowing his breath out through his nose, and said, "You're right. I'm sorry. You're really right." He leaned in close to Aziraphale and whispered, "But I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Well, say we do find and kill the miracle, and then everything goes back to the way it was. What then? We're gonna be right next to the Devil himself when he figures out how to be evil again, and... It's... I mean, I don't trust them. I especially don't trust that Pauline, and I really don't trust Satan. They frighten me."

Aziraphale squeezed Theo's shoulder tightly. "I'll be there too, Theo. I'll be right there beside you, and I'm not going to let anybody hurt you. I swear on my own two wings. I'll protect you from anyone and anything. I promise you that." He swallowed then, and said, his voice shaking, "I am not going to fail you again. Please, please believe me. I'm not going to let you down again."

"Hey." Theo gave Aziraphale the most hopeful smile he could muster, given the circumstances. "Of course I believe you. No sweat." He leaned in close to the angel and whispered, "Thank you."

"No sweat," Aziraphale echoed him.

"And I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"About everything that you had to go through yesterday. It's my fault. It's because of my miracle."

Aziraphale shrugged. "Don't be sorry. It was quite a lot of fun, I can assure you. And I was doing those men a whole lot of good."

Theo managed to even laugh at that remark. "And I was so worried, too. I was so worried that you might have turned into some sort of serial killer, and some sort of monster, or--"

"Nothing of the sort. Instead, now I'm a movie star. Isn't that exciting?"

Then the waitress behind the counter coughed loudly, and Theo suddenly jerked away from the angel, blushing, embarrassed. "You gonna order?" the waitress asked, tapping her foot audibly.

"Just cocoa for me," Aziraphale said pleasantly. He folded up his menu and primly wiped the grease off it with a napkin.

"I'll have, uh..." Theo stared off into space for a moment, trying desperately to make a decision, although nothing listed on the menu had struck him as particularly appetizing. "Uh, maybe, uh, some toast and--"

His breath suddenly caught in his throat.

He stopped, and stared.

The waitress, tapping her pen impatiently against her notepad, glared at him. "Toast and what?"

But Theo couldn't answer. His eyes were transfixed on the horrifying sight visible just beyond the waitress's shoulder.

Something huge, blob-like, and glittering, was slowly oozing through the wall.

Five minutes earlier, the conversation at the demons' table had suddenly taken a very interesting turn.

"If we loop back around on the motorway," Pauline was saying, tracing along a map she had unfolded on their table with the edge of one sharp, red fingernail, "we can scope out all the little towns along this way. The closest is..." She squinted. "Lower Tadfield. And then--"

"We'll skip the first one," Lucifer said curtly.

She blinked at him, surprised. "Sir?"

"I said, we'll skip it. I'm Abbadon, the Adversary, the Angel of the Bottomless Pit, the Father of Lies, the Great Red Dragon, the Tempter, and the Wicked One, and if I say we should skip a town, we'll skip it."

Crowley folded his hands primly on the table and said firmly, "Sir, I think we should go."

"No."

"We ought to search every square foot that we can for--"

"No."

"Sir, you're being childish."

"Don't take that tone of voice with me, Crowley."

"What tone of voice?"

"I'm warning you, Crowley. When we're through with all this, so help me, I'll drag you back Down home with my own two hands and I'll... I'll... I'll, uh... Pauline, a little help...?"

Pauline sighed and pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up on her nose. Then she suggested a list of some very colorful activities that started with drawing and quartering and ended with being boiled alive in hot oil.

Lucifer actually paled as he listened to her suggestions. "Um, couldn't I just sit him down for a serious talk and some tea with little sandwiches?"

"No meat or eggs or cheese in my sandwiches, please," Crowley requested politely.

Pauline suddenly slammed her fist down on the table. "Would both of you please shut up for a minute?!" she hissed angrily.

Lucifer looked taken aback. "P-P-Pauline!" he stuttered.

"Listen," she said, jabbing one long, slender finger at him, "I don't care WHAT sort of stupid emotional issues you have with your idiot delinquent son, we CAN'T afford to leave any ground unchecked, and we are GOING to Lower Tadfield to hunt for our miracle! Besides, if we're lucky, we probably won't even run into him."

Lucifer gaped at her. "How did you know that he's still in Lower Tadfield?"

"Beelzebub is a gossip," Pauline said icily.

"Fine." Lucifer rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily, as if fending off a headache. "Fine. We'll go through Lower Tadfield. But we must avoid seeing the child at all costs--"

"I don't think we should avoid him, sir," Crowley said calmly.

Lucifer glared at him. "And why not?"

"Because he might be helpful to us. Really, really useful."

"How so?"

"Well, remember what happened last time?"

"Yes. That's exactly why I don't want to see the brat ever again. HE chose the wrong side. I don't think I could restrain myself if I laid eyes on him again..."

"Restrain yourself," Crowley asked pointedly, "from what?"

"From... From... " Lucifer looked at his own hands helplessly. "Last time, all I wanted to do was to destroy him, rip him limb from limb, tear him apart with my own claws, kill him and kill him and kill him until there wouldn't be any of him left to return to Heaven or to Hell... But this time... Right now... The way that I am now... " He finally slumped over and buried his head in his hands. "All I want to do is give him a hug. And that's even worse. That's a thousand times worse."

"Sir," said Crowley brightly, "I think that's splendid."

"No, it's unspeakably despicable. For crying out loud, I'm the Angel of the Bottomless Pit, I shouldn't be feeling things like this!"

"And you're only egging him on," Pauline said as she shot an icy glare at Crowley. "Either way, however, we can't avoid not going to Lower Tadfield, if we need to find--"

"Too late," Crowley said suddenly. "It's already here. See it over there?"

The waitress glared daggers at Theo. "Well?" she huffed impatiently. Something huge and glittery lurked behind her, sitting perfectly still, wiggling slightly as the breeze from an overhead heating vent buffeted its gelatinous mass.

Aziraphale placed one hand on Theo's knee. "Order," he whispered.

"Bacon," Theo gulped.

"Bacon," the waitress repeated, scribbling it down on her notepad. She turned back toward the kitchen and marched, angrily, through the back door.

She walked right through the miracle.

For a moment, twisted strands of glittering equations seemed to surge around her, pawing at her hair and uniform. Then, in two steps, she walked right out of the mass of shimmering jelly, and straight through the swinging doors into the kitchen. She didn't even blink. Theo caught one glimpse of her as she passed through the swinging doors, and saw that she was covered from head to toe in miracle slime, with a few stray numbers caught in her hair. But she didn't even seem to notice.

"She walked right through it," Theo breathed.

"Humans can't see it, remember?" Aziraphale said quietly. He was sliding off his stool as slowly as possible. "I'm going out to the car to get the Colt. You stay put."

"Stay put?!" Theo clutched at the angel's sleeve. "It's three feet in front of me, and you know that it knows that we know that it knows that it's three feet in front of me! I don't want that thing to touch me--!"

"It's playing with us," Aziraphale said quietly. "We have to play along. The minute you try to make a run for it, it'll run you down faster than--"

"And what happens when you come back in here, and it sees you holding that M4 Carbine?"

"Er--"

"Are you going to do something, angel, or what?!" Pauline called from across the restaurant. The demons were up and out of their seats, edging toward the exit, looking expectantly at Aziraphale.

At that moment, the waitress returned, stepping back through the swinging kitchen doors, and right back through the miracle. She absent-mindedly wiped her slimy hands on a dishtowel, flung a slimy lock of hair out of her eyes, and asked Theo, "You want two or three pieces of bacon?"

"Three," Theo answered faintly.

The waitress glanced down at her hands. She looked suddenly befuddled. "Sorry, um, must've left m'pad an' pencil back there--"

"No," said Theo, "The blob took it."

She glanced up at him sharply. There was even glittering slime running down her face. She didn't seem to feel or notice it at all. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Theo said.

Then, without warning, the blob surged forward.

It rose up and flowed over the counter faster than Theo had ever seen it move before.

At first, he was frozen, unable to move, completely gripped by a paralyzing panic. I'll drown, he thought frantically, even thought a very tiny, rational part of his brain knew otherwise, I'll drown in that thing and it'll eat me up for its breakfast--

The edge of the blob touched his frozen fingertips. It felt warm, runny, like a living, viscous fluid. Theo opened his mouth and screamed.

In another second, it would have engulfed him, had not Theo felt himself suddenly being pulled backwards.

A powerful backstroke of enormous white wings propelled Theo away from the miracle, as Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the boy's chest and squeezed tightly. Theo caught one glimpse of the waitress's astonished face, and then his view was filled with the glittering mass of the blob, that was rushing after them.

"Hold on," Aziraphale grunted, as he twisted Theo around, whirling so that they were no longer flying backwards, and rushing toward the exit of the diner.

We'll never fit through that door, his wings are too big--

"Hold on," Aziraphale repeated, and then, with a weary sigh, "I hate doing this."

Theo clutched at the angel, and suddenly felt something twist inside his stomach. Then they both passed through the outer wall of the diner as if it were made of nothing more than air. So, too, did the blob, as it rushed after them.

"Whoa," gasped Theo, feeling himself grow solid again. "Whoa."

"This way this way this way this way!"

Three demons streamed out of the diner, running parallel to the blob. Crowley was the fastest, and he sprinted ahead, practically diving into the driver's seat of the Bentley. He had barely enough time to turn his keys in the ignition and bring the engine roaring to life before Aziraphale and Theo literally crashed into the back seat. Feathers flew everywhere, and Crowley heard Aziraphale trying to muffle a cry of pain as one of his wings bent painfully back behind him, having smashed into an edge on the inside of the car. Crowley pulled up the hand-brake and slammed his foot on the accelerator, throwing the Bentley backwards, up over the curb of the parking lot, and into a grassy ditch. He remembered to switch gears, did so, cursed loudly, and sent the car roaring forward again.

Satan and his lawyer managed to catch up to the car and jump into the back seat, struggling to avoid Aziraphale's wings, just as the blob flowed over the grassy ditch where the car had just been.

The Bentley screamed forward, tearing onto the nearest two-lane country road its wheels could find. The roads were deserted out in the middle of nowhere at this time of the morning, which was a good thing, because at the speed that Crowley was going, he surely would have killed anyone or anything unlucky enough to cross his path, and in his current state of mind, he actually would have felt badly about it.

The blob was fast, but it was no match for a speeding car. And, after a moment, it began to grow smaller, and then fade from sight behind them.

Aziraphale finally managed to sit fully upright in the back seat, and sighed wearily. His wings were gone, but Pauline was still picking feathers out of her hair, and there was currently one person too many in the back of the Bentley, which meant that Aziraphale and Theo were practically sitting on the Devil's lap. "Pardon," Aziraphale said as he climbed awkwardly over Theo and up into the empty shotgun seat beside Crowley.

"How's your wing?" Crowley asked, not taking his eyes off the road for a second.

"In searing pain, but I've had worse." Aziraphale winced as he settled into his seat. Even though his wings seemed to have disappeared completely, Theo still wondered if that didn't mean that the angel still couldn't feel them, if they were in pain.

The Bentley blasted down the road, through the cold winter morning. Frosty wind whipped the occupants of the roofless car, although Theo felt, as usual, as if he were baking in mid-summer heat, what with sitting himself next to the Devil and all. For some reason, Lucifer seemed to radiating heat, although the man-shaped creature himself actually shivered in the cold wind, and drew his L.L. Bean coat closer around him. Pauline was buttoning up her gray coat and sinking as close in to her seat as dignity would allow, the blowing wind angrily teasing more and more strands of her curled blonde hair out of its severe bun.

Theo took one glance back down the road from whence they had come, and could no longer see the blob following them. "What's going to happen to that waitress, then?" he asked nobody in particular.

Aziraphale shrugged. "We don't know. There's no way to tell how that miracle would affect a human. Because of the time-delay effect, we may never know. She's back there, we're going this way, and there's no way in Heaven or Hell that we're about to turn around anytime soon and find out. Because we were partially wrong, as far as predicting the miracle's behavior was concerned," he continued quietly. "It doesn't seem particularly interested in new human targets. It was definitely going after Theo."

Theo shrank down into his seat. "Why me?"

Pauline waved one hand vaguely. "It's just like any Frankenstein tale. The monster is out to destroy its creator."

"But it doesn't destroy," Theo whispered, more to himself than to Pauline. "It changes people, but it doesn't destroy them."

Pauline shook her head. "No," she said, and there was a strange sadness in her voice that Theo had never heard before, and had never expected to ever hear, coming from her. "If it can change a person into someone entirely different, is that any different than destroying them altogether?"

"Either way," Lucifer said suddenly, "if this angel is actually right, then it's following us right now. We don't have to look for it anymore. The next place that we stop, it will catch up, and come right to us."

"Then we're definitely stopping in Lower Tadfield," Crowley said firmly. "I know that you may think otherwise, sir, but your son may yet prove to be the most useful agent you have left yet."

Continued.