Title: Epic Battles
Author: viridian_magpie
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Good Omens
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Good Omens belongs to the geniuses known as Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.
AN: Please, don't tell me it's unlikely for a wolf and a lion to meet in real life. I know. So did Heaven and Hell. They just didn't care. (Or let's hope they knew).
Summary: The epic battle of Heaven and Hell is reduced to ... what exactly?***
When Down Below had first put their fiendish and creative (Crowley still couldn't get his mind around that) plan, Above had reacted quite fast.Sort of.
By their standards, anyway.
It had only taken them seven and a half discorporations and about three decades to come up with a cunning counter-plan.
From that point onward, the whole thing was just a farce really, albeit a painful one.
"'Roar'," it rang through the forest.
"'Growl,'" came the reply, "really my dear, is that absolutely necessary?"
"'Hiss'. It wasn't my idea."
"Well, it wa-,"
Crowley cleared his throat as much as he could, seeing as his current body wasn't built for this.
"Um, I mean, 'bark'?"
The wolf looked a bit unsure, so the lion decided he'd rub it in.
"'Roar'. Wolves don't bark, idiot." He thought so but wasn't sure. In any case, it didn't matter. Aziraphale didn't seem to know either.
The angel ignored it.
"'Growl'. This is still rather silly though, isn't it?"
It was but Crowley sure as He- Heav- Pudding wasn't going to agree with the Enemy.
Or, He- Heav- Cheesecake forbid, tell his superiors that the Epic Battle Between Good And Evil being reduced to see which side could come up with the scariest and most dangerous forms for their field agents was just plain stupid.
"'Hiss'."
"'Growl'."
Though to be honest and Crowley never lied to himself this time the bodies could have been worse. He shuddered when his mind again replayed rather embarrassing episode of Crowley The Tsetse Fly. Oh yes, certainly he'd been able to infect the angel with the disease. Unfortunately, Aziraphale had come back as a spider and well, let's just say that Crowley was studiously avoiding webs nowadays. (1)
---
(1) and excrements but that was an altogether different story.
---
The angel could have looked a little less smug while he'd been trying to free himself from the blessed trap.
Bastard.
"'Roar'." That one was heartfelt.
Aziraphale, however, didn't seem fazed. Instead, he blinked and replied: "'Growl'.. What do you think of, ah, postponing the fight and having dinner?"
"Pheasant? Yo-"
The wolf coughed.
"Fine. 'Roar'. Pheasant? Your treat." A demon should always try to use an opportunity and exploit others.
"'Growl'. Good idea, my dear. I still owe you one, anyway."
Crowley had forgotten that.
"'Hiss'. Yeah, you do. I'd been wondering when you'd finally remember."
***