Deleted Scene From Good Omens 2.03

Deleted scene from Good Omens 2.03

Somewhere in Edinburgh...

Can we talk about the fact that Aziraphale didn't pull away from the kiss? Crowley let him go, he does this unsteady bounce back.

Slowed down you can see it's almost like he was on his tip toes, the way he drops down and steps back. He's certainly capable of standing his ground, resisting any force Crowley might be putting into the grip on his coat. He was willingly being kept in place, and on his tip toes so Crowley didn't have to lean down so much.

Dare I say, encouraging? You wouldn't put both your hands on someones back if you wanted them to stop kissing you. Certainly wouldn't push forward into the kiss, look at how Crowley's head moves forward and then back.

Yeah... What she could possibly do indeed

Fictober 2023 #8

Prompt #8 - "Give me that, before something happens"

Fanfiction: Good Omens

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Pairing: Pre-Ineffable Husbands/Aziracrow

Other Notes: Before the Fall, Crowley wants to show Aziraphale something. 633 words!

“Aziraphale!” A strident voice rang through the formless white halls of this particular corner of Heaven, attracting the attention of the industrious cherub, who was just putting the finishing touches on a drawing. “Aziraphale!”

“Over here!” he called in reply, leaning back to admire his work. A moment later, an angel with a curly mop of red hair appeared.

“Ah, there you are! D’you— oh,” he paused, taking in the drawing, “How are the people coming along, then?”

“Oh, quite splendidly,” Aziraphale replied, pleased that his friend had taken the time to notice, “I think we’ve just about perfected the design.”

“Lovely. Do you have a moment?” There was an urgency in the redheaded angel’s voice that took Aziraphale aback, and he turned fully to face him, blinking in surprise. 

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. Look, I’ve got this letter here from Luc—” Aziraphale snatched the scroll from the other angel’s hand before he could complete his brandishing gesture and thrust it inside his robes.

“Give me that, before anything happens! Come here.” He seized his friend’s hand and with a blur and a shimmer, they departed the offices of Heaven and rematerialized near the two star-incubating pillars of gas and dust where they often came to talk. The redheaded angel rolled his eyes.

“I really don’t think that was necessary. What do you think is going to happen?”

“You know what they’ve been saying about Lucifer, don’t you?” Aziraphale straightened his robes uncomfortably, “How they think he’s fomenting discord against the Almighty?”

“Fomenting discord? Really, Aziraphale. And who is they, anyway?”

“You know… they,” Aziraphale gestured broadly, “angels. The grapevine, everyone who gossips!” One scarlet brow arched in the cherub’s direction.

“Do you gossip?”

“No!” Aziraphale retorted, a little too quickly, “But I listen.” The redheaded angel scoffed.

“Just look at the letter!” Hesitantly, Aziraphale pulled the now-crumpled scroll from his robes. He unrolled it, and began to scan its contents. His eyes widened as he read, and he shook his head, curls shaking with affrontery. 

“This is.. this is… well, fomenting!” he cried hoarsely, “If anyone finds you with this—” In a moment of impulse, Aziraphale snapped his fingers on the scro and it went up in a puff of flame, the small haze of its ashes drifting off into space. “There,” he turned to his friend, forced smile betrayed by brows knitted in concern, “No trail now.”

“Aziraphale,” the redheaded angel rolled his eyes, but also reached out to grasp the cherub’s shoulder, “it’s not fomenting, it’s just asking questions! We just want to know—”

“We? We? You and Lucifer?”

“Well yeah, Lucifer and the guys and me—” Aziraphale broke away and put a hand to his mouth, chewing on the end of his thumb. “Come on, cherub! All we want to do is ask God some questions, you know, maybe get Her to let us angels be a little more involved in things, help make some policy. It’s all for the people anyway, you should be on our side here.”

“Your side? What do you mean side?” With one mighty push of his wings, Aziraphale returned to his friend’s side, reaching out to clutch his arm with both hands. “There aren’t any sides here, unless it’s Heaven’s side! Aren’t we all working toward the same thing? Starmaker,” he entreated, “please, please don’t get involved with them. I just… I have a bad feeling about all this.” 

The redheaded angel, startled by this sudden outburst, looked into Aziraphale’s wide eyes, their pale blue glittering with the reflected glory of his nebulae, and he softened. Gently he peeled the cherub’s hands from his arm, and took them reassuringly in both of his own.

“It’ll be alright, Aziraphale. God is Love, remember? What could She possibly do but listen?”

I love this so much!

In their cottage there will be pictures of them taken over all these years because Aziraphale will steal them from Heaven like thanks for the photoshoot I’m going to decorate the house with these.

Heaven: And whenever you see the Enemy, the demon, make sure they are Smitten.

Aziraphale: Absolutely! You got it!

Aziraphale definitely understood the assignment and has been working very hard on it for the past 6,000 years

God: Aziraphale. This is your judgment day.

Aziraphale: Well. I always tried to be a good Angel.

God: You fell for a demon.

Aziraphale: A Fallen Angel.

God: Same thing.

Satan: Not really.

God: Yes, it is.

Satan: No. We are the First Fallen. Don’t throw us in the same bag with basic demons.

Aziraphale: Exactly. I have standards.

God: Either way.

Aziraphale: Okay, I did. That’s not my fault.

God: You have acted on it. That is your fault.

Aziraphale: Technically that is your fault.

Satan: Oh!

God: A… what?

Aziraphale: You’ve created him. He’s your baby.

God: Well…

Aziraphale: So who made him beautiful?

Crowley: *turns red*

Satan: *snorts*

God: Aziraphale…

Aziraphale: So you’ve made him the prettiest Angel out there. And gave him the best personality. Made him a literal perfection.

Beelzebub: Ok, that’s subjective.

Aziraphale: You fell for Gabriel, you have no right to opinion.

Beelzebub: Hey!

Satan: He has a point.

Beelzebub: You shouldn’t even be involved in this. You’re subjective since you fancy Crowley.

Satan: It is called having a good taste. Which you don’t have.

Beelzebub: Gabriel has a personality he just doesn’t like you. Or Crowley.

Crowley: Good.

God: Anyway. Falling for him when he was an Angel makes no difference, Aziraphale, because when he became a Fallen Angel you still pursued him.

Crowley: He didn’t pursue me.

God: He pretended to be in danger and waited for you to rescue him.

Satan: I knew it.

Crowley: Wait, really?

Aziraphale: Lies and slander.

Crowley: *smirks*

Aziraphale: Well, that’s Satan’s fault.

Satan: What have I done this time?

Aziraphale: You made him even prettier.

Satan: Well, you don’t make your crushes uglier.

God: He has a point. You told me you jumped in to take Crowley out of boiling sulphur so he wouldn’t change. And then all you did was give him a tattoo and pretty snake eyes.

Crowley: Oh, yeah, I remember that.

Aziraphale: You were thrown into boiling sulphur?!

Satan: You didn’t tell him that?

Crowley: Why would I tell him that?

Aziraphale: I thought when you fall you have a nice demon take you to Hell! Like when I thought I fell and you came for me!

Satan: Oh boy.

Crowley: Well you were upset enough.

Random Angel: Awwh.

Aziraphale: So you, God, created the prettiest Angel with the best personality, then you kicked him out of Heaven, and Satan took over and made him even prettier. Where is my fault in this?

God and Satan: Well.

*silence*

Satan: You weren’t planning to do anything to them anyway, were you?

God: Yes, I did.

Satan: Oh, have a day off, what are we gonna do on Friday evenings if not watch catch up on these two. You’re gonna cancel my favourite tv show?

God: You are irresponsible.

Satan: You make all the decisions, I deserve this one. Aziraphale and Crowley, you’re free. Fuck off. Do your worst.

God: Do your best…!

*They’re both already gone*

*They just hear a mumbled “SATAN FANCIES YOU?! BOILING SULPHUR?!”*

God: NEXT!