Good Omens Oneshots

Forgotten [Angst kind of]

Aziraphale enters heaven with a smile but something is missing. Something belonging to him. He doesn't remember what. Although, deep down, he suspects that it was quite a lovely something.

The supreme Archangel tries to focus on putting heaven to rights. After all, he has an important job to do. There's no time to think about lost things.
That would be silly, wouldn't it?

If only it wasn't for the music.

Never ending nightingales singing.

Calling.

Luring.

Taunting his mind.

He tries to ignore it. Until he can't stand it any longer.

The melody takes him back to the corporeal realm, where he finds himself standing on an ordinary street, beneath a downcast sky.

The song seems coming from a parked black car.

Aziraphale approaches cautiously. He places his hands over his ears, but it does very little to block out the noise.
The notes build into a beautifully tragic crescendo and the dark clouds above him start to pour. As he reaches the curb. He notices the fiery haired driver and the car owner notices him.

Sorrow twists like a knife in his heart as the stranger gets out. For a moment they both stand there, just looking at each other, drinking in the moment like a rare wine that must be savoured.

The torrent of the rain disguises Aziraphale's tears.  ''uhm... hello.'' Aziraphale chokes out.

The music still, as thought he has found the source orchestrating it. Such sweet relief.
''Hello? Hello?! That's all I get, is it? You can do better than that, Aziraphale.'' 
It occurs to Aziraphale that he's been here before. It also occurs to him that the stranger is very angry and perhaps not a stranger at all. 

''I'm terribly sorry, have we met?''   ''Are you trying to be funny? Because guess what? You're failing!''              ''Not at all! I'd lose my own head if it wasn't attached.''    ''You really don't remember, do you?'' 

The not stranger takes his dark sunglasses off, revealing yellow snake eyes, full of yearning.

Aziraphale startles upon realising the non stranger's infernal identity and steps back.  ''Get thee behind me, foul fiend!''  The non stranger rolls his eyes, opens the car door and points ''Get in, Angel. We're going to fix this.''  Aziraphale knows he shouldn't but he nods and gestures toward  the open door.  ''After you.''

The drenched angel settles in the passenger seat and the mysterious acquaintance holds out his hand.  '' I'm Crowley by the way''  Their fingers intertwine and Aziraphale is giddy with joy.
'' Crowley... What a lovely name.''