* * *

His Fine Wings Made Him Vain
by afrai

* * *

One day, Aziraphale found he had wings.

He called Crowley.

"Crowley," he said.

"What?"

"I've got wings."

There was a silence: brief, but loaded with meaning.

"So?" said Crowley.

"Well," said Aziraphale. He coughed to hide his embarrassment, then remembered Crowley couldn't see his embarrassment, felt even more embarrassed, and coughed some more to hide it.

"Aziraphale, you've always had wings," said Crowley. His voice was patient, but in that exaggerated way that meant he was just being patient so that the explosion would be all the more impressive. "You're an angel. Wings come with the job."

"I know that," said Aziraphale wretchedly, "it's just that, it's just . . ."

"What?"

"I'm certain I had more!" wailed Aziraphale.

The end.

good omens | fanfiction | mail