Sam Tries to Write Good Omens One Shots

QuOwOantine

A/N I took Inspo from the Lockdown video and this other video on a channel called Faramir Sews. And IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE I HAVE TWO MORE HALF WAY DONE OR MORE I PROMISE. Enjoy!

       "You know, I could hunker down at your place? Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle of- case of- something... drinkable." Crowley was trying so hard to convince Aziraphale to let him come over to wait out quarantine. It's either that, or sleep until he can see his angel again.

"I-I'm afraid that would be breaking all the rules." He stuttered. He wanted Crowley to come over, really, but he got nervous and declined. Crowley sighed. "Out of the question." He had to make it seem like he didn't want him to come over at all at this point. "I'll see you when this is over?"

"Alright." He was excruciatingly disappointed. He was going to miss Aziraphale. At least he can dream he's with him. "I'm setting the alarm clock for July." He'd want to talk again by then, won't he? "Goodnight, Angel." He hung up.

On the other side of the telephone sat Aziraphale, completely freaking out and debating on calling Crowley back. I can't believe I turned him down. Why am I so clumsy when I talk to him? I would have said yes, but my stupid mouth was so in the habit of rejecting the poor boy. I have to find a way to apologize when he wakes up.

       He decided on writing letters. Letters to update Crowley on what was going on and catch him up to speed when he wakes up. They could contain anything else, from the conversations he wishes they were having, to the books he's reading. He would write one a week before July. Best get to work on the first one.

Dearest Crowley,

I've decided to write a series of letters to keep you up to date on what's going on so you feel like you haven't missed much when you wake.

I know you aren't fond of eating, but I've made so many sweets that you're bound to love one of them. I've gotten to the point I might try a new thing called a "mug cake."

The numbers are getting up dreadfully. I heard America has it terrible. Then again, their president doesn't even think it's real.

I promise to keep you updated, dear. Goodnight.

-A. Z. Fell

Aziraphale was pleased with himself for coming up with the idea. Crowley would definitely forgive him and come over when he wakes up if he reads the letters.

He heard a knock at the door. When he went to open it, no one was there. Just a book on the sidewalk. It was a special edition he had been after for a few months before quarantine started. He opened it to find a slip of paper in between the pages.

Goodnight.
Love, C.

Aziraphale was filled with a warmth. He really is nice, isn't he? He thought to himself. He miracled the letter to Crowley's nightstand and got started reading his book.

Crowley, at this time, was already asleep in a strange position, dreaming about being a snake and biting Gabriel.

       A week later, Aziraphale sat in his room to write the next letter.

      Dearest Crowley,

      I'm missing you already. Life feels too monotonous without your calls and having to put a stop to all your "evil" deeds.