Good Omens Oneshots

bittersweet

Everything the demon did was quite peculiar. 

He wanted to do bad, in fact he had to. But he didn't want to. He wanted to but he didn't. So whenever he did a bad thing it was a quite bittersweet moment. 

Like when, in 1942, he saved the Angels books. Or when he helped him with the magic show. When he helped him with the books, he felt pleasure doing so, but it just felt wrong to help someone. With the magic show, it was just pure cringe. 

Whenever he did a good deed, it just felt against his nature to do it. But she supposed that was normal, as doing bad things was in a demon's nature. 

But this bittersweet feeling did not happen one time however. 

"Crowley dear, could you help me with these books I just bought?" 

"Why should I?" Crowley hissed even though he immediately grabbed some. 

Aziraphale smiled. He opened the door for Crowley even though the demon was perfectly fine opening it himself. He was only holding three books after all. They seemed to be Jane Austen books. Which quite surprised him, she hadn't known she wrote books. 

"You can just put them right over there." Aziraphale said, gesturing above his desk. They were moving around some of the chairs.

Crowley put the books down and didn't feel weird about helping. Even if it was in the smallest way.

Maybe it was the Angel? Or perhaps his recent "retirement" from hell. Or both. It could be either or. 

Aziraphale noticed the sudden pause from the demon, "Something wrong? You look puzzled?" 

He knew it couldn't be the book's placement puzzling him as the books were already where he asked them to be.

"No." Crowley said rather sternly, hiding his face from the other. 

"What is it, dear?" 

"It's nothing Aziraphale." 

The Angel went quiet and went back to changing the chairs. 

Meanwhile the demon was quite enjoying his own personal little miracle of not being selfish.

He later found out it was probably Aziraphale, because Maggie asked for help and he got the butters feeling. 

That's when Crowley knew she loved Aziraphale. But at that point he wasn't sure if she was feeling love or like. 

Maybe it was platonic or romantic. 

He had the time to figure that out. It was worth it to him to think about it. But maybe it's not worth it to wait to tell him as long as he did.

Because Crowley knew at some point something platonic doesn't make his face red. Something platonic doesn't make him sneak smiles to himself. 

But inevitably. 

She waited too long.