Title: A Gift For You
Author: thebratqueene
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Fandom: Good Omens
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Good Omens belongs to the geniuses known as Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.
Summary: Aziraphale is reflective over his relationship with Crowley. Involves Slovakian spies, a demon in sunglasses, a blushing angel and ducks.***
It was a grey and cloudy day at St. James' Park. Aziraphale sat on a bench, watching as green-headed drakes splashed about in the water and the Russian Cultural Attache whisper very important secrets to a Slovakian spy. Oh yes, it was a typical day in the park but there was something a bit different about it as well. In fact, Aziraphale was a bit nervous about it. The thing that made today different was lying in Aziraphale's lap. It was wrapped in brown parcel paper and had a thin, carmel brown string tied around it. Aziraphale had did the wrapping all by himself.
He sighed and stretched, sitting for far too long. He was getting a little irritated at Crowley, for taking so long to show up. He felt it, butterflies. They tickled his inside, as if their wings were brushing right underneath the skin. He had felt that he was being extremely silly and that he should try to sober up but he knew that in all truth, Crowley made him feel this way. He told himself that it was nonsense, that it was either some sort of demon glamoury or something preposterous but in the same breath, he knew it was actual and factual.
He thought about the Agreement. Why it merited a capital "A," he never understood. Crowley had explained that it merited the capital because it had existed for such a long time. The Agreement had came about in 1020. Ah, 1020, that was a fabulous year. It was actually pretty calm and pretty peaceful but also it was the year that he met Crowley and it had changed everything. They were in a tavern, sitting around, drinking wine and talking. They came to the Agreement and that also meant that they ran into each other on occasion.
"Maybe he slept in?" Aziraphale asked to the air. He knew Crowley's penchant for sleeping and it could possibly be true that he was sleeping right now. He remembered the last nap that Crowley had taken. It had lasted a full century, except for that few moments in 1832 when he got up to use the bathroom. That made Aziraphale a bit antsy. If he slept that long again, he might be sitting in this park for a century. He wouldn't like that much, since he'd hardly get any reading done. Besides, why should he be sitting here for Crowley? He was annoying and evil and all things bad. Maybe not that bad, like Easy Mac or really twangy Country music but Crowley was Crowley and that was enough of an explanation.
Aziraphale had another thought as well. Crowley was a demon and that did make any sort of school-boy infatuation wrong by all accounts. He could imagine what the other Principalities would have to say about that sort of thing. "Ah yes, Aziraphale had went native, that was what that old boy did," they'd say. Going native was about the worst thing that could happen to an angel. It had meant that temptation was afoot and could lead to falling, which is something of a disgrace to angel-kind. But Aziraphale pushed that thought out of his head. It was something that he could think about later, when he was standing in line at a grocery store or watching a late night infomercial.
The Bentley pulled up beside the lake and Crowley got out of it. He slid the dark sunglasses over his dark eyes and pulled his black leather jacket up over his shoulders. It was a touch chilly out and the cold always got to him. He guessed it was because he was used to the near-Volcanic temperatures in Hell but it had been quite awhile since he had visited. He ran a hand through his hair and he noticed Aziraphale sitting near the pond. He made his way over to Aziraphale and took a seat beside him.
"Hi," the demon said.
"Hello, Crowley," he said back.
"Rather nice weather we having," Crowley observed blankly. He looked dead-straight at one of the ducks and hissed, flicking his forked tongue, completely forgetting himself.
"Crowley," Aziraphale childed.
"Sorry, I forget myself," Crowley smiled sheepishly.
Aziraphale thought that this was a good enough time as any to give him the gift. He sighed and sat the package on his lap. "I got this for you, I thought that you might be able to use it in that car of yours," Aziraphale said.
Crowley looked over the package and gently untied the strings of the package. The paper came loose and before him was a pair of large, black, fuzzy dice. Crowley smiled and picked them up, observing them and he could not help but to find that it was quite possibly the most cutest gift he had ever received.
"Well isn't this adorable? Thank you, Aziraphale," he said.
Crowley looked over the angel and was really surprised that he had went to the trouble. They had known each other for over six millennia and yet, never had Aziraphale, or himself, had done such a thing. He wondered if the enemy was going a bit a soft. But he looked at him and absolutely couldn't resist such an opportunity. He leaned over and placed a small kiss onto his cheek. The most rewarding thing was seeing the angel's cheeks go beet red.
"What was that for?" Aziraphale asked, still blushing and secretly happy.
"Another way of saying thank you," Crowley grinned. "Care to do lunch? I'd like to possibly do The Ritz."
"Sure, sure," Aziraphale said and got up from the bench.
The demon and the angel walked to The Bentley and got inside, Crowley placed the fuzzy dice around the rear-view mirror and they made their way to the Ritz. Aziraphale was quiet the whole way there, feeling butterflies become bliss.***