Falling Heavenward: A Good Omens Crowley/Aziraphale Fanfic

Crowley, Aziraphale and Gabriel

London, Present Day

It was some minutes before Crowley, huddled in white feathers, regained his senses enough to realise he was missing whatever was going on back in the bookshop. Precious minutes. Minutes in which his angel was alone being talked to by the archangel—by—by the demon Gabriel.

He tried to tell himself it was just an unpleasant dream, but the grit in the road was digging into his knees and tearing his trousers and it was all real, he knew it in his heart.

"Hey, mate. Convention was over ages ago. If you're going to sleep in the street, at least take the bloody stupid wings off."

Crowley raised his head and tried to summon the maggot form. Nothing happened, and the human just gave him disgusted look and moved on. Maggots might be one of God's creatures great and small, and quite useful parts of the ecology, but they weren't really seraphic creatures.

He clambered to his feet and retracted his wings. He was sick of the sight of them, anyway. So, he could still do the snake, but not the monster. He supposed it was because the snake was close to his Heavenly form, albeit colder and with less eyes and wings, and what did it matter anyway when for all he knew Aziraphale was falling to Gabriel's wiles?

He leaned against the wall near the window and eavesdropped for all he was worth.

"...punishment."

"I'm not sure. I didn't sense any anger or disapproval. He seemed, well, jittery."

"Jittery?" Gabriel's voice dripped scorn. "A jittery seraph? Look, I remember Botis from way back. Completely enraptured with himself. He tried to make me Fall, you know, and failed."

"I never would be able to tell," said Aziraphale with some asperity.

"Hey, takes a better angel than Botis to tempt me." That was definitely a flirtatious tone. Crowley was going to destroy Gabriel, just as soon as he could make himself move. His arms and legs appeared to have been turned to ice.

"And yet he is unFallen, and you, my dear..."

Crowley could almost hear the shrug, even through the sudden blinding pain of the endearment. "He hung off Lucifer and Xaphan's wing feathers a lot, but the snivelling little snake was weak as shit. Sensitive artistic type, all about designing glamorous constellations and moaning that the Almighty didn't notice him enough. He didn't strike me as the kind to have the courage of his convictions."

"No, I suppose not, if you accept that not Falling is actually some kind of moral weakness." Crowley waited in vain for Aziraphale to mention that he had approached him in Heaven too. "In any case, he didn't mention taking me back to Heaven. He asked me to lunch," he added, sounding pathetically bewildered.

"Knows your weak points, then. I hope you told him you already have a date. Look, maybe he does know about me after all, and is looking for hints on Falling with a sexy demon."

"That's not very funny, dear," said Aziraphale, while black spots floated in front of Crowley's eyes.

"Oh, come on. I thought it was very good." Gabriel laughed genially.

"He said... He said we had established hand-holding was fine. Hand-holding over lunch, he said."

"Did he mean he's intending to hold your hand? Am I going to have to bust some angel nose for my baby?" Now there were invisible hands trying to tear out Crowley's spine.

"I hardly think so. I haven't even spoken to him for just over six thousand years. And don't call me that," added Aziraphale sharply. Some of the hands decided to take a rest.