"some ineffable fates need a little push..."
In which the adopted daughter of Heaven and Hell's representatives on Earth is the only one who can see the chemistry between them.
GOOD OMENS
SERIES ONE - ???
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ONE MONTH LATER...
(tw: mentions of periods, a bit of religious trauma, implied homophobia and bullying)
She never got sick. The moment she'd sneeze, cough, or show signs of a fever, Aziraphale was quick to heal her of any illness -- except when she got appendicitis and needed her appendix removed. He couldn't really do that himself.
This was different, though. It was like a stomach ache, only it wouldn't go away. Crowley noticed how uncomfortable she was on the ride home from school. "You okay? You keep squirming."
Maren shifted in the seat, laying her back against the leather. They shared a glance, and a quick smile appeared on her face, trying to stifle her discomfort. "I'm fine."
"You sure?" he asked.
She returned a few rapid nods, biting down on her lower lip. "Mm-hm -- yeah."
Maren turned her head away, biting the skin around her fingernails; her teeth were too blunt to break through, though. She looked out the window, intending to focus on something other than her pain. And though she could sense Crowley glancing back and forth, continuously checking on her, Maren did her best to ignore him.
Eventually, they pulled into the bookshop, Crowley parking surprisingly close this time. Usually, the demon would park his car on the opposite side of the road, enjoying a little saunter across the street before visiting Aziraphale and his daughter.
This time, however, he knew she was desperate to get inside. And though he loved a dramatic walk, his daughter was more important. The moment he pulled the car to a stop, Crowley barely had time to switch off the engine before Maren jumped out. She swung her bag over her shoulder and approached the shop, looking down at the floor.
The shop bell rang as she entered her home. Like always, Aziraphale welcomed her inside with a warm grin on his face. "Hello, darling." He strolled over, dusting his cream coat. "How was school?"
His daughter could barely look at him, speeding past and heading upstairs. "Sorry, I really need the toilet."
The bell rang again, and Crowley entered the shop, his eyes following their daughter as she climbed the stairs with one hand on the railing and the other clutching her stomach.
As she disappeared into the hallway, Aziraphale's smile fell and he raised an inquisitive brow. "Don't they let her go at school?" He knew she was having trouble at secondary school, but it was only her first year and she just needed some time getting used to it.
Crowley's gaze remained fixed on the hallway, uttering. "Something's wrong."
The angel spun back, his eyes widening. "Wrong?" He glanced back at the hallway, joining his hands together. "What do you mean wrong?"
