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A Good Omens fic! Hallelujah!
And she fics, oh how she fics....

XD

Anyway, yes, Christmas fic, slight fluff, Crowley & Aziraphale (slash it or leave it, I don't mind which.)
Written literally five minutes ago, and was originally meant to be a 120 word drabble.

Hah. So much for that.

Based on a RL event a few days before Christmas when I walked around the shopping centre in a newly-bought pair of wings, and my mother kept calling me Aziraphale. ^.^ So yes, a shameless bit of self-insertion. XP

Anyway, enjoy! And though it's over now, Merry Christmas to y'all!




“Oh my!” Aziraphale gasped. “Oh my, Crowley, look over there!”

“What? Where?” The demon turned his head quickly. Anything that could make the angel gasp like that had to be worth a glance at least.

“Over there! That girl! She’s got wings.”

“What? Angel, what are you talking about? That’s impossible.”

“I’m serious Crowley. There was a girl with the most beautiful silver wings, and she was walking through the centre of the mall.”

“Silver?” The demon was still sceptical. “Aziraphale, angel wings are white. And anyway, what would an angel be doing walking through the mall two days before Christmas?”

Aziraphale arched an eyebrow.

“When not on necessary thwarting duty with a member of the opposing side,” he added hastily.

“I don’t know. But I did see her.” The angel grabbed Crowley’s hand. “Let’s go find her!”

“Oh no, you’re not getting me to -“

“Please?”

Crowley sighed. “Oh all right. You know, sometimes I think you do that lip-wobbly thing deliberately.”


It was later. Crowley was not a happy demon.

“Look, Aziraphale, it’s late, I’m tired, the shoppers are having more success tempting me to murderous deeds than I am tempting them, and I just want to go home. Can we give it a rest?”

Aziraphale did his lip-wobbly thing again, “Just a little while longer Crowley?”

“No! And don’t try the lip-wobbly thing again. I know you’re doing it. It may have worked the past ten times, but I’ve got my eyes closed now and nothing you can say will make me open them!”

“There she is!”

“Oh, don’t try that one -“

“No, really! It’s her! I’d know those wings anywhere! I wonder if she’s some kind of Christmas spirit …”
Crowley risked opening an eye. And much to his surprise*, straight in front of him was a short girl wearing a fashionably out-of-fashion outfit and sporting, rather improbably, a beautiful pair of shining silver wings.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it Crowley?” Aziraphale breathed.

“Angel.”

“Yes Crowley?”

“You’re becoming far too human.”

“What?”

“She’s carrying shopping bags, her wings are plastic and, angel?”

“Yes Crowley?”

“They’re attached to her shoulders with elastic bands.”

“Oh.”

“Elastic bands, Aziraphale.”

“Um.”

“How could you fail to notice this? Are you aware of how much my feet hurt right now? I mean, honestly, did you expect an angel to be walking around the mall just before Christmas displaying the fact to the world? I can’t believe I was dragged over every inch of this centre fifteen times just so you could find a girl who wanted to play dress ups.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And furthermore - What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well … well, so you should be!” Crowley floundered.

“Yes,” Aziraphale acknowledged again. “I shouldn’t have dragged you around on a silly hope.”

“I -” the demon paused and scratched his head. “You know, that’s not very fair.”

“What’s not?”

“That whole ‘I’m sorry’ thing. You’re not meant to say sorry yet. You’re meant to let me rant and yell, and try to make you understand how peeved you’ve made me. And then you’re supposed to convince me to come out to dinner with you to make up for it, and I’ll be all huffy, and then you’ll coax me into conversation and we’ll get considerably drunk and it’ll all end in cheer.”

“Oh.”

“Now you’ve gone and messed the order up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There you go again! Now I can’t even yell at you for not letting me yell at you!”

“I’m sorry.”

“I - Aziraphale!” Crowley caught the angel’s chin in one hand. “What’s wrong? Why are you so glum?”

“I don’t know. I guess when I saw that girl, I just - I was just hoping for a Christmas miracle.”

The demon frowned, “What kind of miracle?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Hymns of angels, maybe. A sign. Even a little snow.”

“A sign?”

Aziraphale didn’t meet Crowley’s eyes. “You’re not going to like this,” he cautioned.

Crowley muttered something under his breath. “Angel. Yes, I am mildly concerned about you. But right now I’m far more concerned about aching feet, my sweaty hair and my rapidly decreasing patience. So, how about we just pretend we’ve gone through all the little games all ready, and I’ve protested that I’ll be fine a number of times and you’ve gone all demure on me a number of times, and you can tell me what it is you want.”

“All right,” Aziraphale murmured. He stared Crowley full in the face. “I miss Heaven.”

The demon was momentarily taken aback.

“I miss the light, I miss the warmth. I miss the feeling of being loved.” He sighed. “I even miss seeing wings everywhere.”

“What, even lice - ridden ones?”

“Yes, even lice-ridden ones,” Aziraphale chuckled. “I just miss home. And I was hoping that here, at Christmas, somehow I’d be getting some sort of sign.”

“And a girl with plastic wings was going to be that sign.”

“You said it yourself. I’m becoming more human. I only see what I want to see.”
Crowley stared at him for a few seconds, then ran his fingers through the previously mentioned sweaty hair. He appeared to come to a decision. “Oh all right.”

“What?”

He smiled wryly. “You must be having a bad effect on me angel. It didn’t even take the lip-wobbly thing this time.”

“What?”

“Come on.”

Crowley pulled Aziraphale outside and into an alley, pulling off his jacket and shirt.

“Crowley, what are you -”

“Care for a little evening fly?”

“Crowley, people will see!”

“So? Let them. It’s Christmas. Everyone needs a sign.” His voice dropped. “Everyone.”

“Crowley -”

The angel was cut off as the demon’s wings unfurled, coming so naturally that it seemed they’d never been gone. He held out a hand.

“Come fly with me.”

“Crowley, I -”

“Please?”

“Now, don’t you try my own trick on me. That lip-wobble is patented I’ll have you know! No, stop it, I won’t - Crowley - oh, all right.”

Crowley smiled. “Thankyou.”

As the angel’s wings burst forth, twin to the demon’s own, he reached out and touched the demon’s arm, smiling as well. “No, thank you.”

Crowley turned aside self-consciously. “Well, they’re not real wings, and they’re definitely not lice-ridden, but they’re the closest I can get you to heaven.”

Aziraphale nodded. “And that’s enough for me.”

Hand in hand, they launched themselves out of the alley and into the sky.

And down on the ground, a short girl wearing a fashionably out-of fashion outfit and a pair of silver wings looked up at them and smiled.



*Though seeing as technically angels can’t tell a direct lie, it shouldn’t have been.


END