A/N: I can't find the post to save my life, but at some point naniieebim on twitter drew a couple panels of Crowley dealing with geese that inspired this.

It was a beautiful day in the South Downs, and there was a horrible goose in the garden.

It was your classic white goose with yellow feet and beak, and beady, evil black eyes that seemed to glint red if you looked at it in just the wrong light. It had come out of nowhere, and was wreaking havoc on Aziraphale's carefully tended kitchen garden.

"Ohhhh," Aziarphale moaned despairingly, drumming his fingers on the counter as he stared out the kitchen window at the goose, "it's absolutely destroying my lettuces! And the kale— oh Crowley, do something!"

Crowley, who had been lounging with his feet up on the kitchen table, paused in the scrolling of his phone.

"Me? Why me? I don't even like kale."

"Crowley," Aziraphale turned to look at him, planting his fists on his hips sternly, "Everyone knows that geese are forces of evil. As a demon, you are the correct person to be dealing with this."

"Demon, retired," Crowley retorted.

"Crowley," Aziraphale repeated. His eyes widened slightly as he held Crowley's gaze, and his lower lip pushed out into a pout, then trembled slightly.

"Okay, fine!" Crowley flung his legs down from the table and dropped his phone on it as he stood.

"Oh, thank you!" Aziraphale beamed, "Just get it out of the garden."

"That's all?" Crowley rolled his eyes, "Easy."

He stomped out of the cottage and seized a rake that leaned against the wall outside. The goose, sensing something was amiss in the garden which had become its personal buffet, paused in its ravenous destruction as Crowley strode towards it, waddling around the corner of the raised bed to meet him. They halted, a few feet apart, and regarded each other carefully. The goose made the first move, stretching out its neck, and letting out a warning hisssssssss.

"Is that so?" the demone (retired) asked, and crouched down so that he was on a level with the goose, rake propped up on its end at his side. "Well, in that case," Crowley's face and neck suddenly suffused with black and red scales, his yellow eyes becoming huge as he opened his mouth and released his forked, flickering tongue, "HISSSSSSSSSSS!"

The goose screamed. Crowley leapt to his feet and swung at it with the head of the rake. In a flurry of frantic flapping and flying feathers, the goose evaded the strike. Crowley chased the goose around the garden as it waddled, hopped, and flapped at the speed of light, barely missing the rake with each swing, and looking desperately for a way out. Finally, the goose made its ungainly way over the garden gate.

"Hah!" Crowley crowed victoriously, propping the rake up on his shoulder, "Victory is mine." He went over to the raised bed the goose had been assaulting and surveyed the damage to the vegetables. "There's still plenty left, Angel!" he called, straightening up to look at Aziraphale through the kitchen window, "You can have all the salads you—" he stopped abruptly, catching sight of the dumbfounded look on Aziraphale's face as the angel raised a hand to point towards the gate and shouted,

"Crowley!"

The demon whipped around, to be confronted with the sight of a massive herd (flock? army? invasion?) of geese pouring over the gate. As soon as they saw him, they all began to flap menacingly, and the burst out in a concerted chorus of revengeful hissing, spreading their wings and sprinting towards him. Crowley abandoned both dignity and rake, flinging it blindly towards the feathery mob as he legged it back towards the cottage, sliding inside the kitchen door just in time to slam it shut, and hear the thump thump thump of feathery bodies impacting the boards behind him. Aziraphale had pulled the window shut, and Crowley joined him in staring out of it as the geese descended upon the kitchen garden.

"…maybe we just let them have it, eh, Angel?"