~!~ I'm partaking in a Good Omens Celebration and I'm writing for prompts, so I'll be updating once a day on the weekends of May!! (I nearly forgot today, but it's still May 1st where I am!!!) Today's prompt was Comedy. I hope you enjoy! ~!~

It was a cloudy spring day on the first of May. Not that Crowley knew what day it was. An immortal being such as himself had no need to be aware of the date. Also, he'd only just woken up on the bookshop sofa.

He'd sleepily stalked over to plant a kiss in Aziraphale's fluffy curls, who'd hummed appreciatively and said, "Good morning, my love."

Crowley thought he remembered responding with a grunt that hopefully communicated how elated he was to be allowed to exist with the angel like this. Aziraphale had squeezed his hand and beamed at him in a way that had Crowley feeling optimistic about his chances of Aziraphale understanding his sentiment.

Then, he'd left his angel to his reading and trudged into the backroom to make himself a coffee. His body was nearly on autopilot at this point, having made coffee here so many mornings as of late. It was nice, not having to think too much about anything. There was a time when his mind would have been buzzing with the exhilarating mix of joy and anxiety that came with waking up at the bookshop, but those days were long gone. Now, he felt more at home in the bookshop than he did anywhere else in the entire universe. But... that may have been due to the fact that Aziraphale was nearly always there. His lips leisurely curved up at the thought.

Once his coffee was brewed, he traipsed over to the grimy windows at the front of the shop.

There was a ledge along all of them that the architects probably included to allow for some built-in seating for weary customers to rest. Aziraphale had them perpetually filled with stacks of books, as customers lounging about the shop was exactly the type of thing he would shudder at. A demon whom he loved dearly loitering near the entrance, however, he most likely wouldn't mind.

He gingerly picked up a stack of books and moved them to the floor. He squinted at the space it made before deciding to move another stack. This way he'd have a bit more room for his gangly limbs to spread out without damaging any precious books.

Once he had himself settled comfortably (in a position that looked far from comfortable to anyone else), he began some good, old-fashioned people watching. A skill he was very adept at, after years upon years of practice.

There were just so many people in London. People with vastly different lives, backgrounds, occupations, ancestors, etc. all huddled together, walking down the same street. They had so many differences, yet so much in common at the same time.

Crowley glanced up at the sky. It was an overcast day. He smirked to himself. It was bound to rain anyway today, surely a little push wouldn't hurt.

He held his head high as he snapped with a bit of overly dramatized flair.

A loud crack of thunder was the only warning the pedestrians got before the downpour began.

Many people tried to cover their heads, their possessions, or their clothes. Some started to run, seeking shelter as quickly as possible. Some people didn't even seem to notice, continuing on determinedly to their destination. Someone threw up their hands in disbelief.

Different people who respond in different ways, all thrust into the same inconvenient situation.

Crowley's grin spread from ear to ear.

He spotted a little girl who'd left her father's side to splash in a puddle. His smile softened slightly at her innocent giggles as she got her dress completely soaked with London rainwater.

Quickly enough her dad got to her, scooping her sopping self up into his arms, ensuring she wouldn't run away again. She caught his eye as they passed the bookshop window. Crowley gave her a friendly wave. She waved back, looking a bit shy.

He saw a teen completely ruining a textbook by holding it over their head to protect their carefully curled hair.

An old man, who'd been prepared for this eventuality, opening an umbrella to hold over his wife.

A woman stomping down the street inadvertently splashing a puddle and drenching a business man's seemingly expensive suit trousers. He yelled at her, she yelled right back at him. People politely walked around their little bubble of anger.

Crowley watched, laughing when the man stormed off and the woman gave two proud middle fingers to his back.

Then, a woman who couldn't be more different from the angered hippy who Crowley had been watching moments ago stepped out of a cab. She wore a full-length fur coat and looked positively dismayed at the current weather. She turned to knock on the window of the cab, but it sped away from her. Crowley could hear her shriek from the inside of the shop. He had to bite his lip to keep from guffawing at her. This was gonna be good.

She turned round and round, frantically looking for shelter. Crowley snickered, watching her struggle, but his laughter faded away as he watched her march herself up to the door of A.Z. Fell and Co.'s.

She banged on the door obnoxiously. "Let me in!!" she yelled.

Crowley only shook his head.

"I can see you in there!! Let! Me! In!" she hit the door to emphasise every word.

He stalked over to where she stood outside and pointed to the sign that was flipped to display the fact that the shop was closed.

"I don't care if your bloody shop is closed!! Let me in!!!!!"

Crowley shrugged, wordlessly communicating that there was nothing he could do.

She shrieked again and tried to pull the locked door open by force.

Crowley had to turn away so she wouldn't see his laughter.

"What on Earth is going on over here?!" Aziraphale asked, speed walking over to the front of the shop.

"Angel-" Crowley started, trying to stop Aziraphale from entering the ostentatious woman's line of sight.

"Sir! Sir!! Good sir!!" she yelled, craning her neck to keep Aziraphale in her view.

She didn't have to crane for long, however, because the angel would not be dissuaded from reaching his destination. "Yes? Whatever is the matter?"

"It's pouring!!" she wailed, gesturing wildly to the sky. Crowley dug his fingernails into his palm, amazed at his own ability to keep a straight face.

"That it is. Well, it's not as though I can do anything about the state of the weather," Aziraphale lied.

"PLEASE SIR!! Please let me in to dry off!! This fur is worth more than your car!!!" she squealed impatiently.

Crowley scowled. "Not more than my car," he grumbled.

"Yes, yes, alright," Aziraphale agreed wearily, unable to pass up an opportunity to help someone, even if it was someone a bit unpleasant. He sighed, pulling out the key to the door.

She burst in as soon as the door was unlocked, brushing what water she could off of her coat. "Thank you so much, sir! You're an angel," she said, touching Aziraphale's arm before throwing Crowley a dirty look. He sneered at her.

Aziraphale nodded with a weak smile. She started to walk further into the shop when he called, "Be careful not to touch any of the books! You're er. You're quite wet, is all. Just... head to the backroom. You may wait there until the storm passes."

"Oh... alright. Thank you," she said, heading to the back of the shop.

Aziraphale surveyed her for as long as he could, making sure she truly stayed away from the books, before rounding on Crowley. "Why do I get the feeling you have something to do with this?" he asked accusingly.

Crowley smiled sheepishly. "I-" he laughed awkwardly. "Um. That is- I- er." he cleared his throat. "I may have... encouraged the rain? It was bound to rain anyway, I really didn't do that much!"

Aziraphale sighed once more, doing a much worse job than Crowley had been at hiding his smile. "Created your own little farce, did you?"

"My own comedy, yeah," he agreed, stepping closer to the angel to fix his already perfectly straight bowtie.

"Ohhh, whatever am I to do with such a wily creature as you living in my shop?" he asked, the smile now fully taking over his features.

"Hmm... maybeeeee... cuddle him? Kiss his cheeks? Make sure he knows he's loved?" Aziraphale halfheartedly rolled his eyes before going onto his tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on Crowley's cheek. Once he leaned back both of them had a light blush on their cheeks. "But those are all things you've done before," Crowley continued, a mischievous glimmer in his eye. "Perhaps you'd like to up the ante? Say... I don't know... ravishing him against a bookshelf?" he suggested with a grin.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale admonished, backing away from him slightly. "How can you even mention such a thing when there is a customer in our midst?!" he quietly scolded.

"She's hardly a customer, angel, you told her not to touch any of the books!"

"That is beside the point! She is still here, in the shop, and you find it fit to speak of ravishing?!" Aziraphale's voice went quieter and higher on the last word.

"It's fine, angel, I made sure she couldn't hear us. For all she knows we're speaking in sign language to each other," Crowley said, before signing, 'I love you.'

Aziraphale beamed despite himself and signed, 'I love you too, you foul ear.'

Crowley snorted. Despite Aziraphale's excellent reading capabilities, he wasn't the best at the specifics of speaking many languages. To be fair, he still got his point across. For the most part.

"Now," Aziraphale continued with his voice. "Will you let this rainstorm come to an end so we can be rid of the not-customer currently drying off in the backroom?"

"Alright," Crowley agreed begrudgingly. "But I like the rain," he murmured, pouting.

Aziraphale practically gawked at him. "You hate getting wet! You despise the rain just as much as the woman who insisted she come into the closed shop!"

"I do not!" Crowley denied.

Aziraphale balked, still utterly disbelieving.

The demon conceded. "Well, you're right. I do hate getting wet. Doesn't mean I don't like the rain, though."

"What do you mean? Ever since I've met you I've been under the impression-"

"That's just it!" Crowley interrupted, pleased Aziraphale seemed to be following.

"What is?!" Aziraphale said, still far from comprehending.

"It reminds me of- of you! Of how we met!"

Finally, Aziraphale understood. He looked to the floor, unsure of how to handle all the joy he felt from Crowley admitting this. Unaware of how to come to terms with the fact that this most likely meant that every time it rained for the last 6020 years, Crowley would have been thinking of him. It was a lot to take in.

Aziraphale looked up, his eyes meeting Crowley's. The demon was grinning. "You're ridiculous," he said.

"And you love me," Crowley replied, his smile widening as he leaned down slightly.

"And I love you," Aziraphale affirmed, before leaning in to close the distance between his and Crowley's lips.

~!~ Thank you so much for reading!!! If you want to leave me a comment or vote I'll definitely appreciate it :) I hope you have a great day/night! <3