Crowley finds his secret conviction that the world was designed for his personal entertainment severely tested by the bloody boring fourteenth century. But what is he a demon for, if not to spice things up a bit? It's irrelevant that a certain angel is taking his orders seriously for once and embarking on a life of self-denial and doing good. That isn't the reason Crowley is bored, at all. And he certainly isn't acting up to get Aziraphale's attention because he's desperately in love or anything.

Good Omens. Crowley and Aziraphale pose as husbands for a house party, because Aziraphale is bad at saying no (to anyone but Crowley and anyone trying to buy books). Crowley thinks this is a good chance to prove himself the perfect potential demon husband to a fussy angel. But things get complicated fast. Really complicated. A lot of pining, a lot of shopping and restaurants and party games, some near misses, but no sex until chapter 24 (and all of 25).

The idea of Aziraphale being a Pirate Captain is so patently absurd that Crowley has no choice but to stowaway on his ship. Which is precisely how Crowley ends up in the brig of a pirate ship, manacled to an angel who is wearing a distracting amount of velvet, lace and silk stockings.

Prompt fills for the Ineffable Husbands Good Omens Advent Calendar. 31 times Aziraphale and Crowley kiss.

6,000 years ago, a demon fell for an angel. After the Apocalypse doesn't happen, he remembers six millennia of tentative friendship, daring rescues and growing love. Now there may not be any reasons left not to be in love. If you've read any of my other Ineffable Husbands fic, you probably know what to expect: pining, kissing, history, bickering, humour, angst, lust, music, poetry, ridiculously expensive hotels, Dagon being Crowley's line manager, and a happy ending. Art (including my cover) by the wonderful loni_caprifolicum and Tamsly, made especially for this fic for Good Omens Big Bang 2019. Please respect their ownership of their art.

Aziraphale furnished him with what was a somewhat lovely single malt Scotch, which Crowley wasted by swallowing down until it burned his throat. "Dagon. You have Dagon in your shop. Aziraphale, my oldest and best enemy, I go away for just a few decades, and you summon my line manager? You-you-" Aziraphale looked a little guilty. ***** Crowley finds out that perhaps napping for a century isn't completely without consequences. One of the consequences is apparently finding himself courting an angel who is incomprehensibly attached to the Lord of the Files and Master of Torments. Love is a worse torment than even Dagon could dream up. NOTES: The first three chapters of this were posted in some form or other in my Good Omens shorts book, but it's getting long enough to need its own book. If you're looking for new content, jump to chapter 4.

"Aziraphale debated internally a bit, but curling his arm up around Crowley's shoulder really was more comfortable. He knew he was being silly. He knew a dance was nothing and if it made Crowley happy after his feelings had apparently been hurt it wasn't much to ask, but-it was the demon. He had the literally infernal talent to make even the simplest, least dubious things feel like a temptation. Aziraphale knew it was Crowley's nature, and not strictly saying his fault, but it did sometimes make things feel *complicated*." Biarritz, South of France, 1921. Aziraphale stumbles on Crowley apparently working the hotels and casinos as a gigolo. At least, that's where it begins.

"Oh. Yeah." Crowley shuffled his feet, looking surprisingly boyish. "Come to New York with me tomorrow?" Aziraphale blinked. "Why?" "To see how Warlock is doing," Crowley said, as if that was obvious. "Warlock?" He blinked again, and Crowley looked annoyed. Unfortunately what came out of his mouth was, "You were the one who suggested killing the boy." "It wasn't personal." Crowley took off his dark glasses, apparently the better to glare at him. "He's still our kid." "B-but, Crowley, he's not our kid," Aziraphale said helplessly, wondering if Crowley was going insane or if he was. "You're a terrible father for an angel," Crowley said, accusingly. "I'm a demon, and I make a far better mother." --- Aziraphale is almost certain that Crowley is only being perverse. But demons are unaccountable creatures, and Aziraphale finds himself flying to New York with him anyway.

Just a bunch of oneshots with ineffable husbands and a pinch of ineffable bureaucracy. Contains: Fluff Angst Maybe a smutshot or two Some crack And lots of Ineffable husbands *FINISHED*

A book of one shots, mostly Crowley and Aziraphale....together.