Good Omens Oneshots

the picket fence on elmstreet

The strawberry garden was always ripe. Well, whenever Aziraphale miracled it to be. For it was Crowley's favorite part of the backyard and he didn't want her to know how terrible she was at taking care of her strawberries.
"Dear, would you like a strawberry?" Aziraphale asked, as he had just miracled them as half had been unwatered. Or eaten as the bottom of the picket fence often allowed critters in that quite enjoyed strawberries.
Crowley actually kept one of the bunnies that snuck under looking for the carrots they recently got rid of.
He wasn't too name him whiskers but Crowley said it was too basic.
So Crowley named him "All-Ruling-Satanic-Satan-Joffrey." As it was more creative. It was for sure quite…creative. A little verbally challenging. Crowley justified the name by saying they bunny would do a better job at being Satan than Satan. As Crowley pointed out, whenever he's mad at a demon, he eats away his problems. Literally.
Since the name was quite long, Aziraphale just called him Joffrey.
But anyways, Aziraphale asked Crowley if he wanted a strawberry.
"Yessss" he said with a slight hiss at the s. "They've been ripe for a while. Better start eating them."
"Crowley."
"What?" He asked, puzzled.
"You can't eat them all." Aziraphale said sternly as he handed the demon the strawberry. It slightly matched the demon's long curly hair. Although her hair was a bit more orange. "Not like last time we had strawberries. Not again."
"Oh right!" Crowley remembered with a sarcastic little chuckle, "I won't."
"Promise?" Aziraphale asked, slightly suspicious.
"Promisee." Crowley groaned, just wanting to eat his strawberry. "I won't."
Crowley stuffed the strawberry in his mouth, not caring about the leaves.
The leaves sounded a bit crunchy but the demon still swallowed them.
"You're so weird." Aziraphale said through a smile.
"Love you too Angel." Crowley said while still chewing the leaves.

A tear fell on the paper.
None of this was real

"And maybe in another universe, we live in a little cabin with a bunch of books with a picket fence on Elmstreet. A bunny I named All-Ruling-Satanic-Satan-Joffrey even though you wanted to name him Whiskers. And I'd have a little strawberry garden because I eat them way too much. You tease me all the time about that. I love you and I'm sorry. They were coming for me and I can't run."

There was blood on the floor of the bookshop.
Two wings around the lifeless body. They had been cut sloppily.
Crowley had been stabbed by the flaming sword of whoever took it.
Crowley's head was on Aziraphales lap. He didn't know what to do.
Everything seemed frozen. Everything seemed blank, empty.
All he could look at was the demon's yellow snake eyes that failed to blink. Looking, longing for a sign he was still there.
He had been sitting there for days. Reading the letter over and over and over again.
The Angel didn't need to eat nor drink.
Crowleys glasses where placed nearly in the pocket where Aziraphale normally kept his handkerchief. It was on the floor as he had used it to clean the cut on Crowleys head when he thought he wasn't discorporated.
There was no telling how long he would just sit there. He had known the demon for so long. Loved the demon for so long.
Now more than ever, he just wanted the house with the picket fence on Elmstreet to be real.