Its Own Place by unravels (PG-13)

[laceymcbain.livejournal.com]

Just for the record, I'm having a blast doing this month's recs. Remember if you want to take a turn rec'cing for your favourite fandoms, all you need to do is sign-up. Volunteers are always needed.

Fandom: GOOD OMENS
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Length: ~ 14,000 words
Author on LJ: unravels
Author Website: unknown
Why this must be read: There's a lot of time spent in GO fic on preventing or surviving Apocalypses (Apocalypsi?). This fic takes it one step further. The war between Heaven and Hell has ended with a clear victor; angels and demons are returned to their separate spheres. Now what?

After 6000 years of living with humans and each other, how do Aziraphale and Crowley cope? The short answer is "not very well," but this story is told with such delightful humour and a truly smartly-wicked Aziraphale that I challenge anyone to not be laughing by the end.


“You want to watch what you say to me, Crawly,” Hastur growled. “I en’t forgotten about Ligur, and neither have my superiors. You’re supposed to be on probation. Why they’re giving you special treatment is beyond—“

“Special treatment?” Crowley broke in with a bitter laugh. “Special treatment involves suddenly shunting me over to a deserted, stinking pit of lava for half an age? I suppose the stick is the really special part, is it?”

“No, the special treatment is your next assignment, you old belly-crawler, so shut up and pay attention,” Hastur said. “We took in a very particular new resident recently, says on the roster he’s to be specially harmed, and Down Below thought you might know what buttons to push.”

“And how on earth would I know something like that?” Crowley asked, utterly confused.

“Because you knew him, back when you was prancing around with the mortals. He used to work for – you know – the Other Side, an’ that.”

“A priest?” Crowley asked. He hadn’t really made a point of hanging around the clergy.

“No,” said Hastur. “A, uh....” He looked around, apparently worried he might be punished for speaking such a word right in the heart of the Pit. “Angel,” he confided. “The one what was formerly stationed topside.”

Crowley stared. “Aziraphale? Down here? On the torture roster?”

“That’s the one,” Hastur said with a nasty grin. “And the best part is, he don’t even—“

But Crowley was no longer exactly present to hear what Aziraphale didn’t even. An erupting plume of fire had risen up from the lava pit to engulf him, accompanied by a rock-shaking rumble. Sparks exploded into the air, sizzling and bouncing off the walls like expensive fireworks. There was a loud bang as displaced air rushed to occupy the space where Crowley had been standing, and then Hastur was left alone in the cavern, looking at a flaming trail of light that would do the Millenium Falcon proud. A bubble of lava burped its way to the surface with a sputter.

“Flash bastard,” muttered Hastur.

Read the story: Its Own Place - posted in four parts. Just follow the link at the end of each section to get to the next part.

Don't forget to feedback the author - it doesn't matter how old or new the story is. Authors love to hear from you!