This little one shot sort of fell out of my mind at five in the morning after I'd been watching Supernatural for four days straight. I'd also read Good Omens for about the fiftieth time and the two apparently merged somewhere in my head. This was the result. I hope you enjoy.

Aziraphale settled down onto his couch with a sigh and a nice cup of tea. It was a nice cup of tea sort of an afternoon. With the torrential downpour it had soon proved obvious that no one would be out shopping and so Aziraphale had felt no guilt in closing the shop early and settling down with his newest acquisition.

The shop was quiet except for the tumulus sound of the rainfall on the roof.

Then Aziraphale heard the shop door open. This wasn't an unusual occurrence; after all it was a door which meant that it was supposed to open. However Aziraphale had been sure that he had locked the door.

That meant one thing.

Crowley.

The angel shook his head slightly and slid a finger into the book to mark his place. Crowley had assured him two days ago when the downpour had begun that he intended to sleep for the entirety of the storm. The demon felt that as no one was willing to go out and be tempted why should be bother to go out and try to tempt them.

Aziraphale had been concerned that Crowley had been intending on joining the Apocalyptic ministrations currently occurring over in America. The demon had laughed off the accusation claiming that one Apocalypse was more than enough for him. Apparently he'd been asked to join and refused rudely. Crowley thought that Hell had been a little glad. They still didn't trust him.

Aziraphale hadn't been approached by Heaven to join the battle this time. He was quietly pleased. He didn't fancy getting involved in all that nonsense again so soon. Still he expected it was only a matter of time before both of them were forcibly called to duty.

Both sides seemed to take destroying the world as they knew it very seriously.

Aziraphale frowned when no one appeared through the doorway. Maybe Crowley didn't know where he was. "I'm back here dear." He called, though he was on edge. He couldn't sense any trace of his demonic counterpart, or any trace of anything.

Aziraphale set his book on the table beside him and rose to his feet. At that moment the door to the back room opened and Someone stepped through.

Aziraphale froze, halfway between throwing himself at the intruder and just fainting in amazement. 'Father?'

He smiled and His eyes slid to focus just over Aziraphale's shoulder. The angel's response was ingrained from six thousand years on the job. His left foot slid back and up, his shoulders straightened to take the sudden weight of his wings unfurling and his fingers tightened around the warm metal of his (replacement) flaming sword. He lifted the sword to point at the intruder into Eden.

Then Aziraphale's eyes widened, his mind caught up with his instincts and he lowered the sword. "I'm sorry Father." The apology bubbled up.

He smiled again and made a gentle motion with His hand. Aziraphale blinked slowly, feathers ruffling in thought. "Why are you here Father?"

He tilted his shoulders slightly and took an even step forward.

Aziraphale forced back his instincts. He was the angel of the eastern gate. It was his duty, and had been since the Beginning, to prevent anyone from accessing paradise. But this was his Father he was facing, if he could let anyone into Eden then it was Him.

He smiled again and took another step towards the curving gates which stood just behind Aziraphale's wings. Aziraphale nodded slowly and stepped aside, his grip on his sword was white knuckled.

He walked up to the gate and brushed His fingers along them. The gates swung open, letting loose a brush of warm, heavily scented air. Aziraphale breathed in the scent. It was nice to stand in front of Eden's gate again, or at least to stand on the same plane as Eden seeing as technically he was always standing in front of Eden's gate.

He turned as He passed through the gate and smiled. Aziraphale bit his lip. "Why Father? Why now when all of this is happening?"

The smiled slipped slightly and a look of ancient pain passed over His face.

Aziraphale shuddered.

Then He smiled again, pressed a finger to His lips and was gone, vanishing into the undergrowth of His first worldly creation.

Aziraphale stood for a moment longer. He understood the instruction: mention this to no one. Still he was confused. Finally with a sigh Aziraphale folded his wings, released his sword and settled back on the couch in his shop. He took a sip of his still warm tea and listened to the drum of rain on his roof. He really hoped this didn't mean that he had to get involved in the American business. He really disliked America.

I hope that wasn't too confusing. I realised that writing God was awkward so I went with He instead, if you're having trouble, look for the capital letters, that's God doing stuff. Or look for someone being confused, that's Aziraphale.