The Ineffable Omens | A 'Good Omens' FanFic

5 | THE Meeting

    Aziraphale stood in the circle with the rest of the archangels, awaiting for the Metatron to show his head and start the meeting. He fiddled with his hands, tapping his foot out of pure nervousness and anticipation. He glanced up across the way at the Archangel Michael, who had been glaring at him for the past half hour while waiting. She had finally spoke up, irritation seeping through her words.
    "Would you stop that tapping, it's annoying," she gritted through her teeth. Aziraphale stopped, now looking back down. "S-sorry, bad habit," he spoke softly, just wanting to up and leave. As they all continued to wait, the room stayed silent, leaving Aziraphale to his thoughts. He thought about what could the Metatron be planning to do in the second coming, or what the lord would be planning he supposed. Next, he started to think about the archangels around him, who clearly don't want to even be remotely near him. He thought about his position as Supreme Archangel, and question how he ended up in this position. He was a principalities after all, so it didn't seem right for him to be in this position at all. Then he thought about the one person he could never get out of his mind, Crowley. He could've been at the ritz right now, enjoying the wonders that is human food as Crowley drank wine or champagne, and having their moments of pure bliss and tranquility. Oh how he missed those times of pure joy, but most of all, he missed Crowley, "tempting" him to lunch and coming to his bookshop just to drink and have wonderful conversations.
    Aziraphale shook his head, trying to push those thoughts aside, at least for now. This is not the best time to be getting myself flustered thought the angel, trying to breathe in an attempt to keep himself from being an emotional mess. Suddenly a voice rang, and he looked up, seeing the floating head of the Metatron fade into existence. It's time for the meeting.
    "Greeting everyone, apologies for the tardiness! I had gotten caught up with some paper work!" The Metatrons face stayed neutral, as he tried to be light hearted. Aziraphale straightened himself, moving his hands from the front of him and clasping them now in the back. Everyone had greeted the Metatron, and seats had appeared behind each of the angels. Everyone had sat down, and a file had appeared in the middle of the circle.
    "Now, as always, our meetings will be recorded and put on file, and access will only be for those who are ranked at dominion or above," the metatrons hologram shifted, entering himself to be with everyone else in the the circle. The file had now opened itself, papers gliding into it, indicating it was recording now.

    "We gather 'round today, to discuss the final details, in which we bring back the lords son, and finally end this silly charade with the other side," the Metatron lifted his head proudly, the days of the reborn Christ coming close. "As we can all recall, we had already discussed waiting till the child has become an adult, not wanting to allow a repeat in history, with a child whom will not be able to be reasoned with," everyone nodded, except for Aziraphale, he only watched and listened, not moving an inch in his seat.
    "When he is grown, we shall guide him to making his kingdom, so he shall judge his enemies, and reward those who are faithful, both living, or dead. As I have stated, however, those details had already been discussed, for today, we must figure out who he shall grow up with, and where. Any ideas?" The Metatron moved his eyes back and forth, looking at all of the angels, awaiting an answer. Michael was the first to speak up.
    "Well, your grace, we could use the virtues of poverty, or even send him to one of those.... What are they called again?" Micheal closed her eyes, trying to wrap her head around the human language. Aziraphale spoke up, knowing exactly what she was referring to.
    "An orphanage, Micheal," Micheals eyes shot open, now glaring at Aziraphale.
    "Yes, exactly," hatred spewed from her lips, leaving Aziraphale to gulp. The metatron looked at Micheal, and then back to Aziraphale.
    "Well, that might be a good idea, but not exactly what I had in mind," the Metatron said, looking back at Micheal. Uriel spoke up, snarkily smirking at Micheal.
    "What about putting him with a family, at least a husband and wife, who are the most faithful to our lord," they looked at the Metatron, hoping to get praise for her idea. The Metatron furrowed his eyebrows, glancing over at Aziraphale, who hasn't really done anything accept stare off, and then at Uriel.
    "That would also be a good idea, but that doesn't seem right either," all of the angels at this point, except Aziraphale, tried giving ideas as to where the baby would go. Aziraphale was staring off, his attention divided from the subject, and focused on his thoughts. He went back to thinking about his old life on earth, how he had come to love it, and the people in it. He loved his bookshop, he loved his community of merchants, and he loved when he was able to just do the minor tasks that heaven asked him to do, so that he could unwind with music and literature afterwards. So many things in that silly little world that he loved, and so many things that this reborn could learn to love as well. Aziraphales eyes shot wide. That's it, he had an idea.
    Everyone was still focused on trying to give the Metatron some sort of idea, each one of them trying to one up the other, but he just kept shutting them down. Aziraphale cleared his throat, and everyone had gone silent. The Metatron looked at him now, with the look of possibly already knowing what he was going to say.
    "Excuse me for interrupting, but I might have an idea," Aziraphale spoke, trying to keep himself calm, despite being a nervous mess. Micheal raised her eyebrows at him, and Saraqael yelled over to him.
    "Well then, what is it? We haven't got all eternity," Aziraphale nervously chuckled, and cleared his throat again, only for real this time.
    "Might it be a good idea, to send him down there, with one of our own?" There were gasps among the angel, appalled at his suggestion, but then, started laughter, and it only got louder and louder. Aziraphales face was flushed. This could be his opportunity, the only thing he needed, was the Metatrons approval. The Metatron looked upon the group of laughing angels, and scowled.
    "How unprofessional," was all he said, and that made the angels go quiet, real quick.
    "I allowed you all to make your ideas, quite a few of them being ridiculous or unorthodox, and I did it without a single one of you being judged," all of the angels looked down in shame and embarrassment, being called out by a higher power that had quite enough of the childish behaviors.