#but I shan't share it until it's officially posted on AO3

[jadevalentine-writes]

WIP - Chapter 1 - Good Omens Fanfic

Woops I fell into the Good Omens fandom and am in my second era of being obsessed with David Tennant, please send help. Wanted to get Chapter 1 finished tonight but they WILL NOT. Stop. TALKING. Have this preview instead! <3 Much love - Jade

That night started like many others. 

It was half-past six and they were leaving the bookshop for dinner. Aziraphale was excitedly pitching a new restaurant as they weaved between pedestrians and the few automobiles that decided to snail down the street. 

“Apparently they have the most lovely oysters!”

That nearly stopped Crowley in his tracks. 

“Oysters?” he asked as they approached the Bentley. “Well, I haven’t had good oysters since-”

“Rome,” they both said. 

Aziraphale let the small smile that tugged on his lips blossom when he saw the crooked one on Crowley’s face. 

“Now those were oysters! We can always go to Rome, you know,” Crowley added as he opened the driver door and folded himself inside the old car.

“I know,” Aziraphale said, a bit wistfully as he slowly opened the other door - the Bentley preferred his gentle touch, he thought. “For tonight, however, I’ll make due with these oyst-ow!” 

Aziraphale felt something jab him in the back of the head after he pulled his legs in and shut the door (gently). When he turned to inspect what had intruded upon his skull, he was met with a face full of green foliage. 

“Crowley?” he asked as the demon in question started the engine and the Bentley started to pull away from the curb. 

“M’yeah?”

“Why are your plants in the backseat?”

“Mm?” Crowley turned his head completely around to look into the backseat, ignoring the road in front of him. Aziraphale gripped the edges of his seat as the Bentley miraculously swerved around a parked car and half-dozen pedestrians without Crowley’s notice. 

“Oh yeah,” Crowley mumbled as he turned back around, attention once again lazily on the road. “Just thought they needed some fresh air is all.”

Aziraphale furrowed his brows. Sarcasm, but just a dash. Meaning whatever the real reason was, Crowley was sore about it. Aziraphale decided to press his luck. 

“Is there something wrong with your flat?”

“What? Ah, no, no, uh, flat’s good.” And then, quieter, “I think.”

“You think?” Aziraphale asked gently. 

Crowley shrugged, unaffected by the questioning or the other vehicles he tore past at three times the speed limit. 

“Yes, I think. Haven’t exactly been there in a few months myself.”

“A few months?” Aziraphale turned to Crowley, no longer worried about the road. “Crowley, what happened to your flat?” 

Aziraphale fought and failed to keep an image of Crowley’s pristine flat in flames from his mind. Then again, Crowley would be quite at home in fire. Suddenly the image warped and the flat in his mind became flooded with a complicated sprinkler system of holy water. He shuddered and shook his head to banish the thought. 

“Nothing happened to it!” Crowley groused. “At least, I hope not. Rather, it’s a bit occupied at the moment. And not by me! Hence the plants. I couldn’t abandon them, now could I?” 

Although Aziraphale smiled at Crowley’s affection for his chlorophyll companions, he would not let his…fondness for the demon distract him from the matter at hand. 

“And just what is occupying your flat so that the plants can’t be there?” Or, Aziraphale dared to think, who?

Crowley growled and Aziraphale could feel his lovely golden eyes glare at him beyond the dark shades. Crowley wrung his hands on the steering wheel and Aziraphale soothed the Bentley with a delicate pat on the dashboard. 

“My…replacement,” the demon spat. “You know, since-” here Crowley waved his left hand which, though somewhat distracting - Aziraphale always did think he had lovely hands - did well to encompass everything that has transpired since Armageddon-that-never-was. “Anyway turns out that my flat, er, the flat, was part of the job in the fineprint.” He sighed and sagged into his seat slightly. “You think I would have known. I invented the concept of fineprint in contracts. Guess I never thought it would be used against me.” 

Aziraphale was silent as he pondered Crowley’s words. They had both been left well enough alone after saving the world. A small price to pay, he supposed, considering neither of them were discorporated. Who would have guessed that their ruse would frighten each other’s sides so much they would have a semblance of worry-free existence for several months? 

At the end of the day, though, both sides still needed to get things done. Tax fraud would not commit itself, you know? Aziraphale supposed it made sense that Hell would replace Crowley since he was no longer truly aligned with their side. Though if that were the true reasoning, he supposed Hell should have sent a replacement a long time ago. 

“Just so I understand, your replacement is living in your, eh, the flat because it comes with the job?”

“Mmhm.” The noise was small, but Aziraphale could almost hear Crowley’s teeth grind together as he spit it out. 

“And they could not be trusted to care for your plants?”

“Oh, absolutely not!” 

“I see…and…does that mean you’ve been living in the car as well?”

Crowley opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. He tilted his head side-to-side, his jaw flexing as though trying our words to fit, but ultimately settling on nothing. His jaw clicked close and Aziraphale felt the Bentley speed up in response.

“Crowley, you could have-”

“Oh, look, we’re here!”

The Bentley jerked to a halt, though neither passenger moved forward an inch. Aziraphale narrowed his eyes while Crowley’s mouth stretched in a wide grin. 

“Why don’t you miracle us up a table while I find parking, eh angel?”