Title: Halos and Horns
Author: Niamh St. George
Summary: A collection of drabbles and ficlets from the Good Omens universe.
Disclaimer: The novel Good Omens and the characters therein do not belong to me. They are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. No profit is being made.
Summary: A bit of fluffy nothing inspired indirectly by Eddie Izzard.
"Come now, Crowley, you can't expect me to believe that."
The demon's shoulders lifted in a fluid shrug. "Believe it or don't, angel. It happens to be the truth."
"Mind, I don't have difficulty finding the association itself incredulous--"
"But why you'd lead him into his greatest failure does puzzle me somewhat."
"Oh, come on. Can you think of a better way to create a breeding ground for discontent? Do you have any idea how many of those soldiers turned on each other?"
"I have an excellent idea," the angel replied, grimly.
"It didn't take much persuading," Crowley went on. "A bottle of Bordeaux and a bit of flattery is just about all it took, the proud little bugger. Basically all I told him was that Russia was filled with a bunch of backwards nitwits who couldn't hope to stand up to the mighty Napoleon, and it'd be a real feather in his cap if he managed to gain a foothold in Russia. And that I was certain all those rumors about Russia's climate were nothing but propaganda designed to deter lesser men than him."
A beat of silence passed between them. Aziraphale still looked dubious.
"What's the look for?" Crowley asked, affecting a wounded expression.
"Trying to deduce what you stood to gain by leading Napoleon's army to their greatest defeat."
Crowley picked up his stemmed glass. A twist of lemon floated in the clear liquor. Shaken, not stirred, just the way he liked them. He took a sip, watching Aziraphale over the rim.
"A French influence would've bastardized the vodka industry, angel. And we can't have that."