Title: Lilith
Author: whimsicalmusing
Pairing: UST!Crowley/Aziraphale, OFS (Original Fictional Supernatural) ;)
Fandom: Good Omens
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Good Omens belongs to the geniuses known as Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.
A/N: A couple of scenes I thought were quite likely to have taken place in the dynamic duo’s “history.” I might elaborate on the tale if the idea matures, but for now I’d thought I’d share this. Beta’d by the kind canciona and piratesorka but if you see any errors feel free to let me know. Forgive the footnotes, they are like Pringles. I can’t have just one. For magikalcrab, she knows why. ;)
Summary: Think of it as a mad hatter’s tea party at Waldorf Astoria.***
With a flourish only Crowley could muster the shower curtain flew back, great smoky puffs of steam wafting onto the pair, mussing Aziraphale’s freshly ironed suit.
He was quite put out, though in truth, the occupant of the shower had more right to be.
She wasn’t very tall not even by Old standards[1]and her firm body gleamed in the antiseptic bathroom light, but even Aziraphale had to concede she was terribly beautiful if you fancied that sort of thing.
Which he must assuredly did not.
She blinked at them for emphasis[2], and then popped the toothbrush from her mouth rather obscenely.
“Lilith.” Crowley bowed low, his eyes passing over her hand as if he were to kiss it, though he didn’t.
“Crawly” She purred, in the truest sense of the word, and then cast Aziraphale a bored and slightly annoyed expression. “Who’s the cherub?”
Aziraphale bristled, and had his wings been out he knew he would have lost a feather or two. Crowley seemed to forget he was there, so absorbed in watching where the fat droplets of water slid down her curves.
Looks passed between them, Aziraphale noticed, each filled with nostalgic stories like “Ah, that tryst by the Tree of Knowledge?” or “How about that romp in Gomorrah?” Or even, “Remember when I deflowered you in the Gardens of Babylon?”[3]
There was a History between these two, and he was both shocked and annoyed to realize a funny twist formed in his stomach upon realizing he hadn’t been filled in on the details of said History.
Though, he wasn’t sure he truly wanted to be. Not really.
“Oh, this is…” Crowley chewed his lip. “An acquaintance.” Aziraphale’s squawk died in his throat at a quick glance that clearly said Not now, angel.
Lilith missed all this, as she was wiping a spot clear on her foggy mirror while humming approvingly at her reflection.
An ugly silence filled the room. Aziraphale wanted to turn into himself, but settled for pressing as far against the wall of the bathroom as he could muster. Crowley seemed to be forgetting why they’d come there in the first place, and did she have to sashay about nude like that?
A fluffy robe appeared, and she wrapped it about herself, flashing Aziraphale a bored look.
He pretended not to see it.
“Lovely hair. I’ve never seen a style quite like that before.” Aziraphale mumbled, and she perked at this, running her hands through the wavy strands, the pads of her fingers checking the end of each tendril to make sure the sharp angles of the cut were still fresh.
“It’s called the Bob. A creation of mine, I’m sure your kind will send a commendation for it.” She sighed in between placing a cigarette into a holder. Crowley rushed after her to light it.
“Which side?” Aziraphale huffed, following after the two, and taking care not to notice when the terry robe was replaced with a kimono.
“Doesn’t matter to me,” She puffed from the fag, and let the smoke out in a way that starlets would spend the next 10 years trying to perfect.
They’d never hold a candle to how she did it, Aziraphale would later concede.
“So tell me.” She drawled as she pulled on a silk stocking. “What brings you two here? Looking for a bit of advice in my area of expertise?” She began to pull out inventions that weren’t expect to be around for at least 30 more years, and Aziraphale turned an interesting shade of pink.
“No, no!” Both said in unison.[4]
Lilith didn’t seem convinced. “Suit yourself. Then what,” She rose, and slid a finger under the sharp angles of Crowley’s chin. Aziraphale blushed at the sound of the pleased hissing, and studied the carpet intently.[5] “Pray, Crawly,” the last part of his name was drawn out. “What did you come here for?”
Crowley shivered, his glasses having somehow fallen askew, and took a cleansing breath.
“We need a favor.”
~
Though improbable, when Crowley and Aziraphale were fortunate enough to meet Lilith again[6], it was as just as she was finishing her shower.[7]
This time however she wasn’t brushing her teeth.
“You look radiant Lilith.” Crowley leaned forward as if to touch her, and again instead raked his eyes across her body.
“Indeed.” Aziraphale added. “You’re tanner than before.” His eyes landed on the image of a serpent with a woman’s head that seemed to be burned onto her back.
She looked at his reflection through the mirror, and gave him a mysterious smile. “Must keep with the times you know.” She was decent enough to avoid mentioning his attire, much less the pallid shade of pasty he was. She motioned to her back. “Do you like? It’s a tribute to my second historic deed.[8] ”
At Aziraphale's look Crowley scratched the back of his head guiltily. “I told you I was framed.”
The word inept came to Aziraphale’s mind, but he was too polite to speak it.
She laughed, and brushed her hair down into neat tendrils which rested on her shoulders. “Received a commendation for it.”
“From who?” Aziraphale muttered.
“Does it matter?” Lilith mused, as she padded down the hall and traded terry for silk. Some things never changed, to Aziraphale’s slight annoyance.
Crowley followed after, his feet making soft noises on the expansive rug beneath their feet.[9]
“It’s Buddhist,” Said Lilith as she slathered on lip gloss. “All the rage these days though I’m thinking of switching to Kabbalah.”
Crowley smirked and at the look Lilith gave the demon, Aziraphale suspected another chapter in their History had been updated without his knowledge. An all too familiar squish twisted in his gut again.
“So, what can I do for you today? I do hope you won’t be long, as I have a yoga class at eleven.”
“We won’t trouble you long.” Aziraphale mumbled, squirming under her gaze. Her eyes rested on the top buttons of his shirt, and then flitted onto the lines that were etched in Crowley’s face.
She spared them the offer of her usual wares.
“Well then?”
Crowley’s speech was interrupted by the arrival of Starbucks delivery, but neither he nor Aziraphale complained overmuch. The chain was, after all, one of the more fruitful products of their Arrangement.[10]
“My dear Lilith,” Crowley said, after taking a sip of his steaming Chai. “We have a proposition to make.”
She crossed her legs and grinned demurely. “Well it’s about time.”
Aziraphale struggled to contain the urge the suck his teeth. A cough that sounded suspiciously like “Not in a thousand years or with a ten foot pole.”[11] Came from the corner he was sitting in.
Crowley lowered his sunglasses. “Let me explain.”
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[1]Crowley always managed to be tall enough to avoid mockery but never so tall as to attract attention, and if/when Aziraphale realized he was being looked down at by the demon, he made sure to catch up. Though perhaps it was the other way around. Neither could remember anymore.
[2]As supernatural beings ethereal and occult alike didn’t need to blink strictly speaking. Opinions varied on Lilith, and Aziraphale had spent many hours thereafter trying to decide which team she played for, until Crowley pointed out rather sensibly (and rather infuriatingly) that as she’d been taking the form of a woman for so long, it was unlikely she was playing for any one team, save her own.
[3]To clarify, it was Lilith that did the deflowering.
[4]Both being irrationally irritated by the tone of the other’s voice.
[5]It was shade of peach with a calla lily in the middle that quite resembled the art of Georgia O’Keefe. Lilith boasted a commendation for her career, but Aziraphale never knew which side did the honours.
[6]Nearly 80 years later, though Lilith would pretend to not have been around during the 1920s. She’d picked the human sensitivity about age.
[7]This time Aziraphale and Lilith suspected the improbability had been manipulated by Crowley, who made a point to look as innocent as was possible for him. Which is to say, not at all.
[8]Or sin depending on which side was asked. Both sides were unsure on how to deal with the divorce or Lilith, for neither had taken either into consideration. As such, Lilith became convinced the occult and celestial bureaucracy alike were stuck in the form of men, and as a result vowed never to even try her hand at being a man. One should note she was also rewarded for the creation of the prenumptial agreement.
[9]A depiction of an intricate Dharma wheel designed by Orlando Bloom.
[10]And both claimed credit to their respective superiors, betting that Heaven and Hell didn’t cross check for fraud. It had been Aziraphale’s suggestion to do so after a particularly physical battle over who had invented the Frappuccino.
[11]And he was quite capable of making good on his oath, being immortal and all.***