Good Omens (One-Shots)

You Can Think?? Pt 2

PART TWO! Cuz I felt like it. I wrote the ship once and now I'm obsessed. Whoops?

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Matching: Gabriel x Beelzebub
Song: None
Written: July 18-20
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I first noticed the tingling sensation in the back of my head during my weekly meeting with the other Archangels. Because of the strange feeling, I had taken no note of what the others said the entire time, I only smiled and nodded.

How was I supposed to concentrate when I was being summoned somewhere?

Once the meeting was over, after the dreadfully slow farewells, I could finally investigate whomever called on me. I closed my eyes and materialized right where the tugging sensation was leading me—my Earth mansion? Who would be summo— Oh.

I quickly noticed him in the courtyard, examining the sunflowers—I would've pinned him as a daisy sort of demon, definitely not sunflowers.

I put on my brightest smile—however fake it was—and called out, "Hello! Fancy seeing you here!"

Beelzebub jumped slightly, turning in the spot and smiled—well.. sort of, his lip twitched. That's close enough.

He nodded his greeting, "Gabriel."

"Beelzebub, what are you doing here?" I inquired, my hands folded in a proper manner.

He opened his mouth to say something, closed it again and frowned. "I'm not sure. I was taking a stroll—" Do demon even do that? "—and I happened to notice I was passing you're mansion so I thought I'd pop in to say, uh, hi..?"

"You 'popped in' to say hi?" I snorted, raising an eyebrow. Accidentally summoning Beelzebub was one thing but him coming here on his own was another.

The (short) demon crossed his arms, and sneered—though it looked nothing of the sort. "I could go, if I'm not welcome. Why would I be? You're an archangel and I'm just a lowly demon–" he cut himself off and turned, stalking out of the courtyard.

I hesitated before calling, "Wait!"

Beelzebub spun on his heel to face me, "yes, oh so High and Mighty Archangel?"

"Would you... like to go for a walk with me?" His eyes widened and he nodded, an almost unnoticeable smile on his face. "Great, lets go then."

We walked down the sidewalk, not looking at each other, not making conversation and definitely keeping our distance.

I was going to take him to St James' park and perhaps, if we don't get sick of each other then, to the Ritz for some tea. I've heard (on multiple accounts from Aziraphale) that it is a nice place, very classy.

St James' park was nearly empty when we got there, only a vender (for something called.. ice.. cream?), two small families and a couple. Beelzebub and I sat down two benches over from the couple.

"So uh... this is nice." What a lame excuse for a conversation starter.

Beelzebub half shrugged, sitting on the opposite edge of the bench and nodded slowly, "I suppose.."

It was silent again until a voice made us both jump. "Well, hello," it drawled. Whoever the person was jumped over the back of the bench and sat between us, lazily man-spreading.

Beelzebub shifted uncomfortably and growled out a response, "Crowley. What are you doing here?"

Crowley as in the Crowley who helped stop Armageddon? The Crowley who Aziraphale won't shut up about? The Crowley who bathed in Holy Water and made Michael miracle him a towel? This was him?

I hadn't gotten a good look at him the few times I saw him—whether in pictures or in person because I just hadn't cared enough to.

My only question while looking at him was—Why on Earth is he wearing sunglasses at 7pm?

"I'm just checking up on you lovebirds," he grinned, a teasing tone to his voice. He turned his gaze to me and his grin grew even wider if that was possible, "well, well, well, if it isn't Superior Archangel Douche. Heard you and your buddies scuffed up my angel."

"I'm Archangel Gabriel, actually, must've gotten me mixed up with someone else," I pursed my lips, already annoyed with him. I glanced past him, to Beelzebub, and noticed the higher-ranking demon glaring at the back of his head.

He waved it away, "yeah yeah, whatever, just listen." Crowley went from irritating to full out intimidating in less than a second, he snarled and pulled my collar so we were eye to eye, nose to nose, "Next time you even look at my angel, I'll make your life worse than living Hell—trust me, that's bad. Got it?" He let go and stood up, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket. The sunglasses-wearing demon grinned once again and waved slightly, "toodles!"

Then he was gone, walking over to the bench where the couple had sat—turned out the couple was Aziraphale and Crowley the entire time.

Beelzebub huffed, "Well that was..."

"Interesting?" I supplied.

He glared playfully at me, "sure. Let's go with that."

I shrugged, unhelpfully, "the only word I could think of besides spontaneous." He nodded along to that one.

Standing up, I held out a hand for the demon to take. I paused for a second when he did, his hands were surprisingly soft for someone who spends nearly all of their time in Hell.

"Well, shall we get some tea?"