Good Omens Oneshots

65 (IH + IB)

There was another rumble coming from the sky, and Aziraphale glanced up out of the window just in time to see a bright bolt of violent lightning cut through the rain. He shivered and and looked back down at his book; the sentences and paragraphs on the aged paper were his form of escapism. However, it was difficult to concentrate on the words when there was such a constant tapping of the cold, heavy rain against the thin window.

The rain poured in thick, frequent drops, and the clouds were dense and dark when not being lit up by flashes of electricity which the humans had named lightning. The fire in the cosy bookshop was flaming away, heat radiating off it and stopping the outside cold from seeping in from outside.

Aziraphale, who's eyes had once again strayed from the slow moving book, stared out at the unpleasant world, and was quite grateful to be inside. He thought back to the first ever storm, back in Eden, when he had sheltered Crowley with his wing. It was somewhat hard to believe that the angel and sleeping demon in the bookshop in this storm were the same as the ones in the storm in Eden. 6000 long years had passed, and many things had changed, although not their love for each other - even if it was expressed in different ways now. The angel absent minded-ly stroked his fingers along the sleeping snake's smooth scales.

The serpent wrapped around his neck was large and black, and very impressive. Each scale was perfect, none were uneven or loose, and everything down to the breath was strong and regular. Crowley's eyelids hid his fiery eyes, which were fearsome and stern, and glareful. Crowley rather enjoyed striking fear into people's lives, but Aziraphale could see through his demonic ways and find the kind Crowley that he loved so much underneath.

The demon right now, however, was not so fearsome, more... cute, as his small tongue hissed occasionally between breathes. The Principality smiled endearingly at him, before being distracted by another strike of lightning in the sky. He wondered why the weather was so terrible, but concluded that it was simply because this was England.

He was sitting on the small sofa in his shop, which was currently positioned near to the large window, with the serpent wrapped tightly around him. He enjoyed Crowley's company, even when he was in snake form. Aziraphale put his book to one side, officially giving up on trying to read it, and gazed out the glass window, which framed the weather. It felt cosy when he was inside and the weather was out.

As you might guess, all he saw was the rain against the window, and rain splashing in the puddles, and rain falling quickly through the air. No one was outside, because no one was crazy enough to go outside. Why on Earth would anyone leave their homes in weather like this? It wouldn't even bare thinking about. Across the road was a few other shops, but all curtains were drawn and blinds were fully closed. There was nothing interesting to see, so, instead, he reverted back to stroking the snake, hoping not to wake him, but to relax him.

Crowley hissed lightly in thanks, since he was already awake (how could he sleep through all this thunder and lightning?), but he was dozing as much as he could. The surroundings were loud with rain and the crackling of the fire, but otherwise, there was no other sound. It was peaceful in a way that was cosy. Until there was a splash from outside.

Aziraphale and Crowley both simultaneously looked up at the large window and saw a little area at the bottom where water had been thrown at it. The splat of water faded away within seconds as more falling rain covered it and washed it away.

How odd, they both thought. They wouldn't expect anyone to be outside to cause that splash in this type of weather. Crowley dismissed it and leaned his small head back down on his angel's shoulder. Aziraphale went back to examining the snake's beautiful scales upon seeing that Crowley didn't care. He always felt a little safer and surer when Crowley didn't care about it or agreed with him. Whoever had been there seemed to be gone.