Good Omens (One-Shots)

I Forgive You

A bit of a rant. ^•~•^~~

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Pairing: Aziraphale x Crowley
Song: None
Written: July 21-22, 24, 26, 29-30
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     "Angel! We're going on a picnic!" Anthony J Crowley shouted, after the doors opened dramatically.

     Aziraphale, a literal angel, was currently helping a customer at this time. The middle-aged woman just laughed, her honey coloured eyes twinkling with amusement.

     "My dear, I'm with a customer," Aziraphale huffed, a small smile playing at his lips.

     "It's alright," she chuckled, "I was just leaving."

     "You sure?" Aziraphale asked, his head tilting slightly and his arms wrapped a bit tighter around the book. He acted disappointed but was a little glad she was leaving—the woman had been really interested in the book... and in him...

     "Yes, yes," she eyed Crowley with a smirk, passing him on the way to the door, "I'm quite sure." The woman turned to face them one last time and waved teasingly. "Have fun," she said slyly, winking at the two.

     "Oh we will," Crowley gave a wolf-like grin, glancing at his best friend. She waved one last time and closed the door behind her. "She seemed lovely, who was that?" Crowley stared at the closed door curiously, as if it had grown horns and a tail.

     The blue eyed angel watched his movements and cleared his throat quietly, "I have no idea but I hope she won't be back anytime soon."

     "Oh?" Crowley spun a 180 to face Aziraphale. "Why is that? Pray tell."

     The angel merely shrugged awkwardly, "she was interested in my books."

     Crowley replied with a snort. He held up a wicker basket much like the one he once carried Adam in, "care for a picnic?"

     Aziraphale frowned slightly, straightening his bow tie, "at this hour? Why, my dear, it's already dark outside!"

     "Pfft," Crowley waved it away, "who needs to see to eat? Plus," he added with a grin, "I got candles—scented ones!"

     "Scented candles and a picnic? My dear boy, you surely know how to spoil me," Aziraphale laughed, giving his best friend a blinding smile.

     Crowley made a strange noise only a forked tongue could make and avoided eye contact, "oh shut it." He rolled his shoulders and gestured to the door, "now are we going?"

     "Oh yes, yes, let me grab my jacket and close up the shop. I'll be only a few minutes," the platinum-blond haired angel replied brightly. He did as he said he would and stayed true to his word, it did only take a few minutes—if even that.

     The angel and the demon walked down the sidewalk side by side, but didn't touch. They rarely touched. A comfortable silence seemed to park itself with them. Yet, small glances were stolen and smiles were exchanged.

     The two reached Hyde park after many many different trains of thoughts—all leading to one another and how close they were (emotionally and physically, the gap between them was a mere two inches).

     "Here seems like a nice spot, wouldn't you say, angel?" Crowley broke the silence, gesturing to a small patch of grass.

     Aziraphale nodded, a smile resting on his lips, "yes, it would seem to be."

     From his wicker basket, Crowley miraculously pulled out a stereotypical red-and-white-plaid blanket and laid it on the grass. He also pulled out scented candles, lighting them with merely a finger; an assortment of foods and treats (ranging from mini sandwiches to pain au chocolat to strawberries); and a bottle of wine with two glasses.