Author's Notes: I actually got the idea for this fanfiction after learning about some of the possible origins of the kiss. There was actually a section based on the beginnings of the French Kiss, and for some reason that should disturb me (but doesn't) I thought of Crowley and Aziraphale.

This is my first Good Omens fanfiction, and also my first attempt at fluff. Constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated.

Disclaimer: If I owned Good Omens, there would be a sequel right now. And possibly a third. And fourth. And plushies of Crowley and Aziraphale….

Much like cats, angels are not overly fond of water, since wings and H20 do not normally mix very well. (1) Their demonic counterparts dislike it even more so because the water messes up their well groomed wings.

But, despite the persistent rain and gray, gloomy sky, one angel in a sweater that was out of style even in the 1950's and a demon wearing dark sunglasses were walking through St. James Park together. It was two years after the apocalypse-that-wasn't and it seemed sort of fitting to both of them to be here. Aziraphale and Crowley had been spending more and more time with each other after that Saturday, perhaps because the angel and the demon were the only two who actually remembered what had happened. (2)

"Do you know what they call French kissing in France?" Crowley said suddenly, breaking the silence. The rain that was pelting down around them was stopping about a foot above his head, where it slid off around him as if there was a glass barrier. Aziraphale, on the other hand, was making do with a rather large umbrella. It was light blue with ducks on it, and Crowley was embarrassed to be in a five foot perimeter of it.

"Where did that topic come from?" the angel questioned. He didn't really approve of it. Just like the French, he figured, to go around sticking their tongues where they didn't belong. Aziraphale held a more traditional British view of romance. (3)

The demon shrugged. "I've heard that Adam just got a girlfriend."

"Oh. So, you automatically think of French kissing?"

Crowley lowered his sunglasses and gave Aziraphale a look which clearly said "demon, remember?" The angel liked to focus on the nicer side of young love. Such as hand holding and running through fields of flowers. Even he knew this wasn't the case however.

"Anyway, do you know what they call it?"

"No," Aziraphale answered a little warily.

"Soul kissing." And with that, Crowley leaned in towards the angel and his ridiculous umbrella and gave him a first hand demonstration of the kiss the French were so famous for.

Crowley was prepared to be discorporated by Aziraphale, turned into something slimy and unpleasant, slapped in the face, hit on the head with the angel's umbrella, or at least get an outraged, "Really, my dear!".

Which was why he was pleasantly, no, much more than pleasantly, surprised when the angel kissed back. Gently at first, but then just as passionately. Maybe the French weren't so bad after all, Aziraphale thought as the two immortal beings continued to kiss in the rain.

Meanwhile, the ducks of Saint James Park looked on with an expression of what might be bewilderment. But nothing can really be drawn from this, because bewilderment is one of the default settings for ducks.

(1) Just ask Icarus.

(2) Of course, Adam remembered too, being the antichrist; but both the angel and the demon felt sort of awkward around him. It's hard having a casual conversation with someone who could end your existence with just a thought. Plus, they weren't that good with kids.

(3) The kind that was popular in the 1800's among the upper class. When bumping elbows was considered scandalous. The angel would have been slightly unnerved to know that French kissing had actually become popular with the British first.

Those who comment get Crowley and Aziraphale plushies! :D