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Mimicry	By : Macx Category: G through L > Good Omens Views: 2227 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Good Omens, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Mimicry
- 2-part 2
- 3-part 3
- 4-part 4
- 5-part 5
- 1
- 2
- 3
It happened right in the middle of a lively plaza. There was an art craft village in the old town part of the city. It was one of the main attractions and Aziraphale had delighted in the colourful displays, the walk-in shops where you could watch each artist work, witness how silver was worked into delicate earrings or necklaces, how paintings were brought to life, how clay was formed into beautiful sculptures, and more. Crowley had trailed after him, unable to stop smiling at the positive energy his angel gave off.

It was something he had noticed over the last months. They had been together for more than that, but he had never truly felt it up until those months ago. Like many things. Like he picked up on his angel's presence, his excitement, his radiating gentleness and warmth. Aziraphale had once softly confessed to him that he could feel Crowley, like some background presence, aware of how he felt. It was how he had known to come back when that strange cold bug had struck him.
It had scared the demon at first. Now it was like a soft reassurance that they were linked on so many levels. Protective of each other, ready to take on whoever who might want to tear them apart… Crowley had never felt such vicious protectiveness coupled with the tender emotions of love in one.
Yes, it was scary.
And it was the safest feeling he had ever had. Nothing could touch them. Nothing.
So when Aziraphale was approached by a young woman holding an express package envelope, something inside Crowley rang with alarm. He quickly walked up to where Aziraphale was talking to her, listening to his confused tone.
"You must be mistaken, my dear. I…"
"You're Ezra Fell? Well, then this is your package. I was told to deliver it here, that you'd be here, and you are. So please sign on the dotted line and I can go on with my job, okay?"
There was light annoyance in her voice and she chewed on a gum like there was no tomorrow.
Aziraphale signed with a scribble that might be 'Ezra Fell', then was handed the envelope and the girl disappeared.
Blue eyes met shaded serpentine ones.
"Let's find a spot," Crowley murmured.
They did, far away from the bustle of tourists in the art craft village. Aziraphale gazed at the envelope, mystified, then opened it.
Crowley felt a surge of divine energy and flinched back with a little grimace. The angel shot him a brief, worried look, but Crowley just gestured at him to go on. He even leaned in close to read over one shoulder.
The paper was old parchment and it reeked of Heaven. Crowley almost got sick from the sensation, but he pulled himself together. A gentle wave of Light surrounded him, invisible to humans like they were at the moment, and it soothed his senses. Despite it being divine in origin, Crowley could tolerate the emissions when they came from Aziraphale.
"Thanks," he mouthed softly, touching the small of Aziraphale's back.
Both looked at the parchment where words appeared.
::Aziraphale,::
::we have a favour to ask.::
Both angel and demon looked at the words with raised eyebrows and their eyes widened almost simultaneously as more appeared, as sentences filled out the empty piece of paper.
"Oh dear," Aziraphale whispered.
Crowley felt slightly stunned. "Are they talking about a human?" he blurted.
::Yes::, the paper said and the demon froze.
Shit, live transmission. Great!
::The situation is serious::, the words went on. ::Very serious. The human in question has posed as a Fallen and entered Hell.::
Now Crowley froze. "A Fallen?" he croaked.
::Yes, a Fallen. He deceived Hell and stole something there, too. We cannot order you to find him, neither of you. We can only ask.::
"We?" the demon echoed suspiciously.
::Yes::, we, a new scrawl appeared.
One of Crowley's hands clenched into the light shirt Aziraphale was wearing and he inhaled sharply. "Shi-it!"
They were working together? Both Sides? It had to be serious.
::This is serious::, the divine scribbles returned. ::The human has posed as an angel and as a Fallen. He is still human, but he can hide his identity. You will both receive the information if you chose to accept this request for help.::
"What if we don't?" Aziraphale whispered softly, his question surprising Crowley.
The demon hadn't figured his lover to actually think about it. He had thought he would simply grasp the opportunity to be of service to Above again.
::We will dispatch another team. We do know that he can detect us, so you are our first choice. You are no longer of either Heaven or Hell.::
Both looked at each other, shock written in their faces, and Crowley's grip tightened again, bruising and tight.
"W-what?" Aziraphale stammered.
::Will you accept?:: the words asked.
They exchanged looks. "Will we?" Crowley mouthed.
Aziraphale nodded slowly. He wanted to and Crowley felt this strange compelling sensation to aide as well.
"Yes," Aziraphale finally answered.
::Thank you::, came the scrawl.
And then the words vanished.
For a moment there was just the noise from all around them, the laughter of children, the shouts of parents, the babble of everyone who enjoyed the day or was taking a break to relax and enjoy the sun.
Then the knowledge transfer hit them. Crowley was used to it, but not Aziraphale. Heaven normally only sent information by paper, not by direct infusion into their minds. Crowley grabbed onto his lover's from a Aziraphale's knees gave way and he made a little sound of pain, eyes screwed shut. One trembling hands touched his forehead.
"Oh dear," he breathed, leaning against Crowley.
"You okay?"
"Yes. Is it always like this?"
Crowley shrugged and carded his fingers through the dark blond strands. "Kinda. You get used to it."
"Actually, I don't intend to."
He pressed a kiss onto the tousled head.
"Why would Hell deliver the briefing and Heaven the letter?" Aziraphale asked as he straightened.
"Because Hell's efficient in data transfer, but they haven't gotten long range communication down yet. Telephones are alien to them and don't even think about cells. Letters are more reliable and Above has them down pat, hm?"
Aziraphale chuckled. "Yes, they do."
"So now what?"
"We find him," the angel simply said.
Crowley rolled his eyes and shoved the sunglasses higher up his nose.
* * *
They had taken a long stroll through the city, sometimes silent, sometimes talking, but never stopping in their paces or even in their minds to really think about what had happened.
Heaven and Hell had asked them to do them a favour.
Both of them.
Both… working as one on this case.
It finally sank in and Crowley stopped walking, and simply sat down. He didn't care that the bench was old and looked like it had seen better days, that they were in a part of town where the night life was rather lively and ended violently if one wasn't careful. He didn't care that there were people hanging around who looked less than friendly.
Heaven and Hell, Above and Below… both contacting the only two immortal beings on this planet who weren't affiliated with either Side any more.
Aziraphale settled down beside him, his face pale but composed, looking thoughtful.
"I wonder why we weren't told what was stolen," the angel said after a while.
One of the suspicious people was creeping toward them, looking rather unsavoury in character and outfit. Crowley didn't even really think about it when he planted the thought in his mind that even talking to the two strangers on the bench was bad news.
Those news spread like wildfire.
No one bothered them.
"It must be something big," the angel went on. "I mean, it was in Heaven and Hell… what could it be?"
"I don't know. I'd be more interested in the how and where the creep is now."
"He should be easy to find."
Crowley's eyebrows twitched up. "How come?"
"He went to Heaven and Hell, took something and returned. I doubt he came away smelling like a rose, so to speak." Aziraphale smiled. "He has traces of both on him. We just have to keep an eye out for that."
"That might just work," Crowley mumbled.

And it did. In a strange and twisted way it did, though it led them to someone else first.
Crowley had a rudimentary memory of the name Ashkat, but aside from him being a demon he hadn't really much to offer. Some creepy bugger who usually did the one-on-one tempting and had scored some hits, but since Crowley liked to work the big ones, he hadn't bothered with the littles. Now, looking at the pathetic little demon, or what was left of him anyway, he wondered when one-one-one temptations had started to become old news. Hastur and Ligur had loved them, but Crowley had never seen the attraction.
"I didn't know," the man cowering on the street whined. "I didn't figure him to one of those."
"One of who?" Aziraphale asked, looking sympathetic to the demon's plight.
He would, Crowley thought with a silent sigh. Only his angel.
Ashkat looked at him with huge, frightened eyes, then sought help from Crowley. He had probably never faced an angel. At least not while down on his luck.
"One of who?" Crowley repeated the question with a lot less sympathy in his voice.
"Those humans who meddle in magic. You know, those who read all the weird books and all."
Crowley sighed. "Oh yeah, those. I always knew it was one of Craig's less good ideas to write that trash."
Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. "Trash?"
"You know… magic books, black magic stuff, like the Necronomicon. Craig was in stitches over it when he wrote it and some of the guys Below thought it was a pretty riveting tale. Got themselves signed copies and all. He even included a few of them. They never recovered from their 'guest starring roles' or 'special appearances'."
Crowley mimicked quotation marks with his fingers, looking even more disgusted.
"Cathel was unbearable after he was given a big role as Cthulhu in the book. Rubbed it under everybody's nose that humanity thought him to be an Old One, some kind of terrible beast. Wanker. Can barely write his name right, let alone make a good temptation. Stupid bastard. Don't get me started on the bloody morons like Azathoth -- the demon formerly known as Hazel -- or Yo-Yo, who, after Craig's novel came out, wanted to legally be called Yog-Sothoth. What a laughing stock. Fucking gits. "
Aziraphale shot him a mild frown. Crowley glared.
"Anyway, it got to Craig's head, the fame and all. He did a few more and left them all over the Earth. He had fun with what came out of it. No one thought it would get that bad, though."
"Oh, I see."
Black magic books might have been an invention from Hell to have some fun with humans who were susceptible to such things, but apparently some had backfired. Ashkat was a prime example.
Frightened, brown eyes, very human brown eyes, looked at the two immortals as the ex-demon cowered on his beggar spot. From the looks he hadn't had a decent shower or food in days. Aziraphale felt compassion for him, even pity. No being, be it demon or angel, should be treated this way. Ashkat had lost his powers to a human. It was… undignified.
"He called you through the book?" the angel finally asked.
Ashkat nodded miserably.
"Properly summoned and all," he whined. "It was a good incantation. Perfect. He offered a deal, signed the contract, and it worked perfectly."
"You said so before. What went wrong?" Crowley demanded.
"He stole my powers," the demon whimpered. "All of them. I'm human. He just took it all and left. One minute I was the all-powerful and terrible demon Ashkat, the next I'm this." He sniffed a little.
Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged looks. For a human to learn how to capture a demon and remove his powers within one summoning… this was big. Whoever this man was, he was strong. Usually demons didn't really give up without a fight, and Ashkat, for all his pathetic display now, had been a demon like Crowley. Crowley would have fought tooth and claw to keep himself from being stripped so completely.
"What's his name?"
"James Jones."
"The name alone justifies what he did," Crowley muttered and it earned him a glare from his lover.
"Crowley," the angel murmured.
"Well, I'm right!" the other defended himself. He turned back to his hapless former comrade. "So, any idea where that James Jones guy lives?"
Ashkat shook his head. "He summoned me and it wasn't his home. I could tell."
"How?" Aziraphale asked.
"Uh, it was a warehouse. Big freakin' thing, too. It's where he left me afterwards." Ashkat began to shiver a little.
Aziraphale's expression became even more sympathetic and Crowley just kept him from hugging the little bastard on the ground. You never knew what Ashkat had caught, living among humans in the street.
"Can you show us the place?" he simply asked.
"Uh, sure. But…"
"What?" Crowley glowered.
"Do you have something to eat? I haven't eaten in days and it's cold and everyone's so hateful…"
Crowley rolled his eyes. "Let me guess, you even groomed them to be perfectly hateful toward the poor and begging?"
Ashkat had the decency to look away.
"Figures. Anyway, you show us the place, we'll give you food."
The human eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Yes."
"But…" He hesitated. "You're a demon. Demons lie."
And they throttle little no-good former demons, Crowley thought furiously.
"Angels don't," Aziraphale said softly. "I promise to give you food."
Ashkat looked at him, took in the gentle aura, the warmth, and relaxed a little more. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
"Yes, please," Crowley snarled and pulled the ragged looking ex-demon up by the scruff of his very scruffy neck. "Now, shoo! Show us."
"Crowley, dear…"
"He's a demon, Aziraphale. He brought this upon himself because he answered some stupid summoning spell. Probably thought it would get him a promotion to play around with his mind a little, set him lose with thoughts of greatness. Well, it backfired!"
"Haven't any of your schemes ever backfired?" Aziraphale asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Crowley pushed Ashkat ahead of himself, snarling more. "I never lost my powers to a human!"
Just my heart and spirit and soul to an angel I love more than anything I can think of.
Crowley swallowed. It was no comparison to what had happened to Ashkat, because the twerp had truly messed up big time. He had managed to find the one human being with enough knowledge and cunning to pull off a theft from Heaven and Hell, after ridding a demon of his powers. Sneaky little bugger. It took some real balls to do it, especially since Heaven wasn't really all that cosy and friendly.
He should know.
He had worked there once.
Soft blue eyes met his through the protective dark glasses of his shades and the knowing smile told Crowley that he was an open book to his lover.
Blessed angel!
Angry and not knowing what exactly about he gave Ashkat another rough push and the ex-demon hurried ahead.
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Mimicry