Ineffable Husbands Oneshots

a thousand miles down to the sea bed (found the place to rest my head)

I'm back with my AO3 titles... this fic is the first Good Omens fic I ever wrote, right after seeing the show for the first time and falling in love with the characters, with the world, with the romance (I don't call this queerbaiting, I call this queer). 

Oneshot info: 10k, getting together, first kiss, Atlantis AU (in the sense that it's canon divergent)

Heaven and Hell could agree on these two things:

One: They both wanted the Great War between Heaven and Hell—the war to end all wars, the war to end everything—to happen. Now, who was going to win that war was a point of contention, but the war itself was supported by both sides.

Two: (rationally following from one) Crowley and Aziraphale, having stopped Armageddon right as it was about to begin, were irritating, awful, extremely inconvenient, and deserved retribution. And since holy water and hellfire hadn't worked, they'd have to come up with something else.

The opportunity for proper retribution arose almost immediately after their respective trials in the form of a very big oversight of Adam's. In all fairness, it wasn't Adam's fault; no one quite understood the way the Antichrist affected the world, no one could predict how he would affect the world, and the boy had only a vague idea of his own powers himself.

This had resulted in a few things: there were tunnels underground but no people in them. There was a spaceship wreck discovered in a meadow in Tadfield. The local weather in Tadfield seemed to over-correct for twelve years of perfect weather for the season and snowed in the middle of summer for two and a half days. And, rather than disappearing Atlantis had sunk back down into the ocean —luckily, sea levels had not risen.

It took a considerable effort from Heaven to make the tunnels disappear (they didn't like the idea of people spying) and a considerable effort from Hell to make all the snow disappear (they didn't like the cold). The spaceship wreck was an easy fix. Atlantis was different for one very big reason: there were still people on the island when it went under.

"I'm so sorry," said Aziraphale, feeling faint, "would you repeat that please?"

Gabriel clasped his hands in front of himself and, suppressing his glee badly, repeated, "You and the demon Crowley have been given a special assignment from your respective offices—"

"Yes," Aziraphale interrupted, feeling panicky, "I got that part. Did you say—I must've heard you wrong—did you say there were people on Atlantis when the island sank back to the bottom of the ocean?"

"Yes, Aziraphale, I need you to keep up with me. I don't have all day." Gabriel cleared his throat aggressively. "You did ruin eternity."

"Oh, goodness." Aziraphale, who'd stood politely when Gabriel entered the bookshop, sat down. He took several deep breaths. "How many people were..."

"They're not dead, Aziraphale," Gabriel said flatly.

Aziraphale looked up quickly, astonished. "They're not?"

"No," Gabriel said impatiently, "Although, if they were, it would be much less trouble to get this mess sorted out."

This didn't sit well with Aziraphale. To say the world was better off without someone alive seemed very unholy. "Well," he said crossly.

Gabriel took no notice of this. "Do you understand?"

Aziraphale blinked. "Well," he said again, "Uh—no. What exactly am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know," Gabriel said, in a way that suggested Aziraphale was an idiot for asking. "Handle the situation? Figure it out."

And before Aziraphale could get another word in, Gabriel was gone.