Good Omens One Shots 1

Dream 2

The next time Aziraphale fell asleep, it was definitely on purpose. Snuggled up in a bed with the most boring book he could think of and a chamomile tea by his side.

He tried not to get too excited about the prospect of dreaming again, but failed miserably.

'What'll it be this time? Will Crowley be there? What will we do?' questions raged through his mind as he desperately tried to get drowsy.

Thankfully, the angel didn't have any urgent upcoming assignments to take care of because it did take a few days of intense focus on the phrase 'go to sleep now!' before the principality actually managed it.

He awoke in black sheets and a familiar bedroom again. He was half expecting his dream to be entirely different but this was rather nice, familiar. He liked this cottage, and with a few minor tweaks it would be perfect.

"Crowley dear?" the angel called out, getting out of bed somewhat hastily. Surely if everything else was the same the demon would still be here. There was no answer to his call.

Aziraphale frowned and explored the cottage a bit, looking for some scales or a glimpse of red curls out in the garden.

To the angel's disappointment, there was no such luck. It seemed his dream-demon wasn't here.

Belatedly, Aziraphale noticed that the demon's disappearance wasn't the only thing that had changed in this dream-land, there were books! How had he missed the books?! There were plenty of Aziraphale's favorites and a few he had actually never seen before -- he pondered how that was possible given this was his head but didn't think much about it. They were all arranged on the shelves sprinkled about the cottage in alphabetical order and each shelf was impeccably dusted. The plants originally there were now serving as book-ends.

He hummed pleasantly and ventured into the kitchen to find a piping hot cup of tea, made just the way he liked it. There was a note on the napkin that read: 'for angel, glad you've found the temptations of the unconscious so appealing'.

Aziraphale laughed, this was a little throwback to earlier when he had told the real-Crowley about his experience with sleeping -- obviously leaving out certain details. This was all really clever. Even though he didn't really appreciate being alone, the tea and note were nice.

Aziraphale took it on himself to explore and make little adjustments throughout the house so it better suited his tastes. A little clutter there -- make it look more lived in -- a stationary over there -- for more cute notes Crowley might write. Maybe he should miracle up some more trinkets, the house didn't have nearly enough of them.

Of course, he couldn't forget to change the bed covers to tartan. Honestly, what was his brain thinking with that one?

Then he added more bookshelves and added more books to his liking. He really just went through the whole house and added his own touch to everything that he could. Except the garden. He didn't dare touch the garden, it was already perfect as is.

It wasn't really all that fun if Crowley wasn't here, Aziraphale decided.

It wasn't much longer until he awoke. The thought, "maybe next time he'll be there," echoed in his mind.

The next time Aziraphale dreamed, Crowley was in the house with him. While his vision cleared to take in the familiar bedroom, he could hear the demon moving around somewhere distantly. The angel grinned and got out of bed quickly.

Belatedly -- and with a note of disappointment -- he realized that the sheets he had previously changed to tartan were back to black. However there was a tartan blanket at the edge of the bed. He briefly wondered why things had altered themselves in this way before walking to the end of the hallway where he could see the demon was grumbling and cleaning around the living room area.

"Hi dear." he greeted with a warm smile pausing in his steps to take in the figure before him.

Crowley nearly jumped out of his skin, "Angel!" he gasped, "I didn't see you there."

Aziraphale's smile widened at the demon's flustered and blushing face, he liked this version of Crowley. The demon was now wearing a pink flowy dress that ran all the way to the floor, it had a plunging neckline and a delicate floral pattern. No sunglasses to be found.

"Did you enjoy the tea?" Crowley asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice.

The angel stepped further into the room, "You know I did."

There was another blush, "Just wanted to check." The demon fidgeted nervously, one of Aziraphale's little trinkets was in his hand. A bag in his other hand looked lumpy as if stuffed with... was Crowley collecting his things?

"Are those my things?" Aziraphale asked, genuinely surprised that Crowley had touched them.

Crowley gulped and nodded, a guilty look in his eyes, "Yeah, sorry... I just- well- ngk... Listen-"

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, "I liked those things."

The demon's eyes seemed to grow panicked, "I know but hear me out. Listen, I was thinking we could move them."

"To where?"

Crowley set the bag on the table and gestured down the hall, "I was going to build you a new room- a new level even! Just of all your things- No- not that- We'll keep some things in here of course, but-"

"My dear, do you not realize that you are a product of my imagination?" Aziraphale interrupted stepping closer, wanting to calm this very stressed creature.

"Ngk." Crowley sucked in a breath and grew very pale, "I- I don't know how to answer that."

The angel took pity on the demon and touched him gently on the shoulder. The muscles were all tense underneath him. He massaged him gently, hoping to release the tension.

"Relax, it's okay. Tell me what you were thinking, my brain wouldn't have had you doing this if it wasn't something I needed to hear. You're always good at that my dear," he tried to be as understanding and careful as he could, which was such a strange thing to consider while talking to something literally created out of his own mind.

"I- uh... I," Crowley breathed shakily, "I was going to build you a new room, as big as you wanted. Where it could be just books and trinkets. I- I figured you would want more books and I wanted there to be more space, plus these little guys," he held up the metal figure in his hand, "they clutter the space a bit. Don't you think?"

Aziraphale shook his head, "I like a little bit of clutter, my dear."

Crowley paled.

"But I'm willing to try this new room thing," he rushed to fill the silence and calm Crowley's nerves, "it would be nice to get some more books in here. Do you think you could build me a reading nook?"

The demon gaped up at the angel, "Uh... yeah of course! Whatever you would like. I... I could get you a big window that overlooks the garden? Would you like that?"

"Sounds lovely my dear," he squeezed Crowley's shoulder gently before letting go, "I don't want too much light though, but just enough so that I can see you gardening if I so wished."

Crowley's face went as red as the tomatoes he was growing in the said garden, "Ngk... yeah- whatever you like."

Aziraphale found it both amusing and endearing how easily flustered dream-Crowley was. It was so rare that the real Crowley and him were ever in a safe enough position to show vulnerability and physical affection like this. That's probably why this dream-Crowley was being so adorable and willing to please. Real-Crowley was like that too, but in a more business way; Aziraphale didn't have to read into his actions all that much. Dream-Crowley,however, this was all domestic and casual. There was love that was palpable in the air and the angel didn't know where his ended and Crowley's began and he didn't care.

This was his dream.