Here is my first fanfic for Good Omens… the first piece of fiction I have successfully written in nearly two decades…
I have not posted it to A03 or Wattpad yet because I am still working on my notes and I am waiting for my invite to be completed… but once that is done I will.
I have many more coming… but I wanted to throw this one in here first to get feedback. A special thanks to those who did my beta… they are given credit in the header.
Before The Beginning-
Written by: Holly A. Herson
Beta by: Kate Doak & excessnight
It was not the first time that these two angels had met; how could it be? 40 million angels would hardly be the population of Tokyo on Earth in the 21st century, and the ethereal space was home to only 40 million (plus two) at this juncture of pre-herstory. Although, considering the vastness of the pre-universe, and the fact that Heaven’s Headquarters were also under construction, it was still fairly uncommon to simply “bump” into someone. Meetings were typically planned or ordered for the purpose of completing a task that the Almighty had directed and teams of angels were assembled for those purposes only. The concept of “social time” or a “chin wag” had not been invented yet. As the newly designed Universe expanded, and was being prepared for Creation, Aziraphale, a naturally inquisitive angel, was curious to see who was part of the glorious project. There was not a name listed on this particular line of the roster, only “Eternally Reserved” scrawled in rather messy handwriting on every line concerning the creation of the cosmos.*
Aziraphale was privy to many of the Plans that were in effect for the Creation. Afterall, organization and project management was one of his jobs. He would often be seen flitting around with a clipboard, keeping track of things. He had a secret wish to document everything and bind it up in what he would later call a “book”. He had seen the work that the beautiful, dark-haired angel with good cheekbones was doing on celestial architecture of the universe, as precise as he was powerful, and longed to speak to him. For reasons that he could not quite understand, this angel-with-the-cheekbones made him feel weak in ways he had never felt before. He was not sure of his name, afterall, he was not as high in the hierarchy, and there certainly was no org-chart to conjure up to look (those things would be invented later on, when bureaucracy would be discovered and perfected by humans).**
Aziraphale stayed out of sight, watching as the mystery angel arranged and rearranged energy on the black backdrop of the rough-sketch-universe. The energy that he was using as building blocks of the universe was what humans would later discover and fondly call “the God Particle”. Aziraphale watched the angel so gallantly and purposefully handling and maneuvering energy to create atoms. He placed together with the care and consideration of the first great artist in sparks of Creation to manifest gasses that would fire together to fashion beautiful and terrifying reactions. The miraculous display continued building on one another until finally a “big bang” of fission and fusion created burning balls of fire that would become stars, planets, and an ever expanding bridge that would eventually contain the existence of the most amazing Creation of all.
Of course, God Herself was the architect of life, but life needed a place to reside. She had given the “God Particle” to fabricate such a place to the beautiful dark-haired angel with good cheekbones, and he decided to create the cosmos, and he was quite proud of it. He was not at all surprised that he had been chosen for such a task, because he knew he was the best angel for the job, although he would never tell the Almighty that. She must have already known, otherwise She would have stopped him from reserving every line on the roster associated with it. Little did the angel know, but this job, in all of its beauty, would be the cause of his fall. The catalyst of pride, disdain, and disagreement with God’s Plan, and Aziraphale, unknowingly, would be caught up in it as well.
Aziraphale had no idea that the angel knew he was watching him, but for quite some time now, the angel-with-the-cheekbones had been watching. He simply had been so busy that he had not stopped to say hello. Aziraphale was rather startled when he called him over. “Excuse me… Hi!” The angel called out. He rushed over, very glad to finally have a reason to say hello. He was a very social creature by nature, a trait quite different from other angels, which gave him a sense of longing and loneliness that did not quite have a name yet to describe. The angel asked for help “cranking it up”, and although Aziraphale didn’t quite understand what this meant, he was always happy to help another angel- especially happy to help this beautiful artist who’s smile seemed to ignite more than just the ethereal space around him.
“I’ve been waiting for this for… well… for always” the angel exclaimed. “Let there be matter, let there be gravity, let there be everything from pages 11 through 3,000,602 inclusive.” Aziraphale waited with anticipation…
“Is something meant to happen?” He asked…
“Yes, yes, I knew I missed one” laughed the angel, “Let there be light”.
The vast expansion exploded with light and colour, and Aziraphale did not have the words to describe the amazement and admiration, but then he looked over at the angel. Even with the beauty in front of him, he found himself unable to look away from the angel. While the angel marveled at the beauty of his Creation, Aziraphale marveled at the beauty of the angel whom he was floating next to. A feeling suddenly came over him, a sort of tightening in his stomach, an uneasiness that prevented him from being still, he found himself wondering if he was worthy of being in the presence of the beautiful angel.
Aziraphale had fallen into his bright eyes and was engrossed in his smile. It was a smile that was made up of the softest, sweetest, and most perfect lips that he had ever seen. He wondered what it might be like to touch those lips with his fingertips, but let that thought quickly slip away, as it was quite inappropriate for an angel to even think such a thing. Still, even amongst the beauty of stars and gasses colliding to create new celestial bodies, Aziraphale could not bring himself to look away from the angel marveling at the beauty of his Creation. They floated there for what seemed like moments, but very well could have been years, as time was not quite created yet (as it fell a few pages after what the angel had signed to create).
Aziraphale looked away for a moment when the angel finally spoke,
“Look at you, you’re gorgeous”.
Aziraphale’s head snapped back, smiling broadly, with the presumption that the angel was talking about him… he immediately realized how absurd that was when he saw that the angel was still staring at his Creation. It was at this time, unbeknownst to both angels, that the cosmos began to become more than the plans on the page. The emotions of love, adoration, pride, and even obsession, were reflected from the architect angel’s bright eyes into the universe for the first time, and the feelings boiling up within Aziraphale of longing, love, adoration, admiration, self-consciousness, embarrassment, and anxiety, and it was all being extended into the universe. Together, unknowingly, they were responsible for instilling the most important aspects of humanity, not only a place for physical life to flourish, but also creating emotional life that would be the very foundation of what made “people” truly “human”. Perhaps this could be seen as an incredibly cruel aspect of God’s Ineffable Plan, as it would be roughly 6000 years where two ethereal beings would make their way through heaven, hell, and Earth not truly understanding their affection toward one another, or its significance.
The immense joy and pride that the angel felt upon viewing his creation was so beautiful that Aziraphale hesitated. No one would begrudge Aziraphale becoming the first bearer of bad news. The unfortunate and painful experience of also introducing the first disappointment and sadness into the universe by telling his new friend the truth. This sadness, as important as it would be for humans when it comes to art and creativity, would haunt the angels for all of their existence.
“You know, the current word from upstairs is that we’ll be shutting all this down again in about 6000 years.” Aziraphale stumbled over his words revealing this to the angel. He cringed as he watched as the light in his eyes dimmed, and the smile across his perfect lips fell and twisted into a pained scowl, one that he would wear most often for the next millennia.
“What’s the point of creating an infinite universe with trillions of star systems if you are only going to let it run for a few thousand years?” The angel exasperated as his arms fell to his sides and his shoulders slumped in defeat. The first emotions of worry and fear were sent into the universe as Aziraphale found himself looking around and behind his back to make sure no one was listening, as the angel found himself questioning “The Great Plan” with increasing disdain. Desperate to comfort his friend, Aziraphale tried to explain “people”. He was very proud to say that he was to be instrumental in the design and management of these “people” on “Earth”.
“We are going to start out with a breeding pair, and then pretty soon there will be oodles of them! They will breed, like… well, like people.” It wasn’t working. He went on to explain, “…The stars… they exist just so that the people can look up into the night sky and marvel at the illimitable vastness of the Almighty’s Creation.”
Rather than comfort, Aziraphale’s words brought something else into the universe. It was rage, disbelief, and despair. The architect angel had no concept of what a “people” could even be, nor did he really care.
“But that’s idiocy- it’s the universe, not just some fancy wallpaper!” He exclaimed, exasperated that his work would be reduced to a twinkling spectacle. Aziraphale attempted to remind the angel that it was not up to them, and voiced his discomfort and fear of the danger to question or make suggestions to the Almighty. The final straw was when the angel said “If I was the one running it all…” and at that point, Aziraphale knew the conversation needed to be over. The sense of immense danger had grown too strong behind him, it felt as though there was suddenly an eye falling upon them like a shadow in the distance. He changed the subject as quickly as possible, but had a sense of dread that it was already too late.
This must have been palatable, because the angel tried to comfort Aziraphale, “How much trouble could I get into just for asking a few questions?” He would soon find out.
Neither angel knew that their conversation, the first emotions that they felt, their interactions verbal and nonverbal, were all part of the “Ineffable Plan ”. Though dancing had not been invented yet, the interaction between them was as close as any had come. Uncertain of how to move, how their steps would move in time. The synergy and unexpected rhythm became simple, flowing, and natural quickly between the two. There was a silence, and a comfort that fell upon the two angels as they drifted closer together, staring at the vast, beautiful, early universe. The energy that they together were bringing into Reality was not necessarily created nor was it ever destroyed, but gracefully draped into the universe. These angels, and how they were connected, was not by chance, and were both blessed, and doomed to play a larger part than either of them knew.
As the first meteor shower began the angel-with-the-cheekbones felt a strange connection to Aziraphale. He had only just met this angel properly, but he had admired the way he flit around from place to place getting work done, humming tunes that no other being had ever heard before, always with a smile across his lips that seemed to light up the universe, even before light had been invented. In fact, it was in the likeness of Aziraphale’s smile that he had designed light in the first place. He had almost forgotten and left that one out, because with Aziraphale there so closely beside him, it was almost as if the light was there already.
He moved closer and placed a protective wing above Aziraphale’s head to deflect a rogue star particle. It was comforting to be close to someone, to share this moment, these feelings that were so foreign, to share these intimate thoughts. Their hands touched, and as they did, they instinctually grasped onto one another, fingers gently intertwined as though they were dancing in a Georgerian ball. Their palms were pressed together tighter than two who were simply dancing as strangers, and with this subtle embrace all of the tense and negative feelings left their bodies, and only comfort and warmth remained. As the two lingered, for what could have been moments, or years, it was not certain, the angel realized that he had not told Aziriaphale his name, but it was not important. He did not want to break the silence, he was afraid that if he spoke their hands might separate, and their time may be cut short. He did not want this closeness to ever end… because he was more acutely aware, now more than ever, that nothing lasts forever.
*Afterall, angels are those taking the hand of the humans “responsible” for writing the major scrolls that made-up the “Word of God” (or whatever it is humans like to call it). Considering that most humans were illiterate at the time the fable was penned, it was important that angels had decent handwriting. Although, with as many interpretations as exist in human history, this could be argued.
**Which one could argue is an integral part of God’s Ineffable Plan, as it transcends not only Heaven, Hell, and Earth.