Fandom: Good Omens
Rating: K+ (PG)
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley muse on the meanings of love over drinks.
"So what you’re telling me is, you're justified?" Aziraphale asked Crowley over their table of empty bottles.
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you," Crowley confirmed, pointing dramatically at the angel over the bottles. They clinked and refilled themselves, but neither being took much notice. "Whole stinking lot of us. Justified. It's like - it's like -"
"Like a daycare center," Aziraphale supplied.
"Like a wha'?"
"Like a daycare center. If all the kids were fighting and you put one group of kids in the corner and not the other group, the kids in the corner are bound to resent you. That's what you're saying."
"I don’t' think the corner was a very good analogy, Angel," the demon argued. "If all the kids were fighting and you gave one group of kids candy and pizza and dumped the other kids in an orphanage known for mistreating kids... Yeah, there you go. That's what I'm saying." The two friends paused over their drinks.
"I'm sure God still loves you a little," Aziraphale said after a while. "If God didn't love you, how could I?"
"You're different, Aziraphale," whispered Crowley, laying his head down and closing his eyes. "You've always been different."