Good Omens One Shots 1

Memory 3

"Why do you keep staring?" Crowley asked. The angel had not stopped looking at him since he had snapped on some clothes — He couldn't very well go about in his pajamas could he? The clothes he miracled were the same fit and cut as Aziraphale's, just black. Considering he didn't know the trends of the time and the angel was the only person he had seen since waking up, it seemed like a reasonable decision. Everything was pretty much the same except for the color.

Aziraphale giggled quietly, "Ah it's nothing dear. You look very dashing."

Crowley frowned, feeling self-conscious now. He took off the bow-tie with an uncomfortable cough, "shut up."

The angel laughed again and took the demon's arm to lead him outside. Crowley felt a warm feeling bubble up with the angel's arm in his, he liked this closeness, the familiarity. After a minute Aziraphale let go, a blush rising to his face.

"Sorry, I forget you're not used to-" he started.

"It's fine angel." Crowley interrupted before Aziraphale could finish, "I don't mind, really."

He prayed that the Aziraphale would take up his arm again. Maybe, if he was lucky, pull him into another kiss or a hug? Wouldn't that be nice? He sighed dreamily. This was definitely not real. It was all probably a figment of his overactive imagination; yet Aziraphale did not take his arm again, instead, he looked away while holding the front door open for him.

"Woah, is that a chariot?" Crowley asked dumbfounded by the sleek looking capsule in front of him as he stepped through the door. "Where are the horses?"

"Oh dear." Aziraphale muttered behind him, coming to his side and fiddling with his thumbs nervously. "Um well... humans don't really use horses anymore, as a mode of transport."

Crowley sighed in relief stepping closer to the vehicle in front of him, admiring it. "About time, I hate horses."

"I know."

Crowley clapped his hands in front of him, "So what is it? How do we use it?"

Aziraphale looked very concerned gazing forlornly at the Bentley before them, "Ah well, you- you usually drive it and take us places. But I don't think you should now, it takes a lot of practice to get a handle on the gears and things."

The demon frowned stroking the hood before him, "I could probably miracle it to work." He grinned mischievously over at the angel who paled at the thought.

"No, uh absolutely not." Ah that's the Aziraphale Crowley knew, he thought with a smile. Then the angel's tone softened and he looked away, "Future you would be very upset if you so much as gave her a scratch. She's your pride and joy."

Crowley had a hard time believing any material object would ever overshadow Aziraphale. But he trusted the angel more than he did himself in this moment. "Okay, then how do we get to this oyster place?"

Aziraphale frowned, "I guess we could call a cab."

"What's 'a cab'?" Crowley asked before he could help himself. Shut it, he cursed himself, asking questions was annoying. These were all minor things that Aziraphale knew and had been living with for probably years. He had already asked too many questions about the 'car' in front of them, but there was always a breaking point when it came to questions. He wasn't especially fond of finding Aziraphale's. It wasn't the angel's job to keep him up to date and guide him through this world he had been thrown into. It was a miracle he was humoring his request for oysters rather than kicking the burdensome demon to the curb like any righteous angel should. Then, he could go down to hell and figure it out that way. He could come back when he was more caught-up, taking the pressure off of Aziraphale.