Fluff October - Day 20 - Neighbours - Good Omens
[Prompts are here by the way]Â
So... somehow this fluff piece about Crowley and Azi being neighbours spawned an idea for a series. I hope youâre all ready for that. Featuring Crowley as Warlockâs foster father, traumatised Warlock and the kindly bookseller living down the street
âWarlock are you awake?â asked Crowley, giving his son a shake. âYouâre going to be late for school.â
 âI donât feel very well Dad,â mumbled Warlock. Crowley pressed a hand to Warlockâs forehead.
 âYou do have a temperatureâŚâ he rescinded. âItâs probably just a cold though. I think youâre fine to go to school.â
 It was at that exact moment that Warlock threw up all over Crowleyâs favourite pair of shoes.
 Safe to say, Warlock would not be going to school that day.
 That put Crowley in a difficult position. Warlock was too young to be left home alone â he was only eight years old â and Crowley didnât really know anyone who could watch the kid. He would have taken the day off work, but he didnât have any sick days left.
 He was racking his brain for a solution, he gave Warlock his porridge. Warlock was disinterested in his food, which was worrying. âAre you not hungry kiddo?â he asked.
 âDonât want to eat. Iâll be sick again.â
 Crowley patted him on the shoulder. âCan you please try to eat a couple of bites for me? Youâll feel worse later if you donât eat.â
 Warlock still seemed apprehensive. âIâll put some honey in your porridge if you promise to eat some for me,â offered Crowley, just as he sent a message to Anathema asking if she could babysit Warlock for the day. Unfortunately, she couldnât because she taking Adam to therapy and Newt was at work. How irritating.
 His son perked up a little at the offer of something sweet. Crowley fetched the bottle of honey from the fridge and set it down on the kitchen table, just a little harder than he intended. Warlock jumped a little. âAre you mad at me daddy?â he asked between spoonsful of porridge. âIâm sorry Iâm sick.â
 âIâm not mad at you kiddo. You canât help being sick. Itâs justâŚâ Warlock gave him an inquisitive look.
 âYou know how daddy had to do special lessons so I could look after you?â he said. Warlock nodded. âWell anyone who babysits you has to have the same lessons. And I canât find anyone to look after you because the only people I know whoâve done the lessons are Auntie Anathema and Uncle Newt.â
 He took a sip of his coffee and watched the gears turn in Warlockâs mind.
 âAdam told me that the new guy down the street looked after him when Anathema and Newt were busy last week. The one with the bookshop,â Warlock said, poking his porridge around his bowl. Crowley messaged Anathema to confirm this fact and it turned out to be true.
 A few minutes later, Crowley had managed to arrange for the townâs bookseller to babysit Warlock. It was actually a good deal. The guy had an completely clean criminal record â without so much as a speeding ticket â had completed the training and he worked from home, meaning that he was available all day. Plus he adored kids!
 The only requests the guy had was that Warlock wash his hands before touching any of the books in the shop.
 Warlock finished his breakfast and fetched his backpack from his room. Crowley had packed some books, including his favourite colouring book, and some colouring pencils. âHave you got your shoes on?â asked Crowley pulling on his boots and zipping them up on the side. Warlock fiddled with his laces before promptly giving up.
 âCan you do it Daddy? I canât remember how.â
 Crowley crouched down and tied up the laces quickly. âYou really need to learn how to tie your shoes Lock. Youâre nearly nine.â
 âIts hard! I canât remember all the steps and if I can remember them, they get all muddled up in my brain.â Crowley stood up and dusted off his jeans. He wasnât exactly happy about how the house was often dirty or coated in dust, but he was a busy single father. All in all, he was lucky if he managed to sweep up once a week but with such a young kid (who tended to track in dirt as kids did) that did little to help.
 âCome on kiddo,â he said. âI need to drop you off at Mr Edenâs shop early enough that I can get to work on time.â
  Aziraphale had never heard much of this Anthony Crowley fella â granted he had only been living in Tadfield for two weeks. But Anathema said he was a good guy and Aziraphale could always trust her opinions on people.
 There was a knock at the door. Aziraphale set down the books he was sorting and walked over to the door. He opened it up with a smile, laying his eyes upon what might just be the most attractive man heâd ever seen.
 He was lean, tall and dressed in a way that Aziraphale would call fashionable but still professional. His bright red hair was cropped short
 âThat you so much for this dude. I really owe you one,â said Crowley, shooing Warlock toward Aziraphale. âWhy donât you say hi Warlock?â
 Warlock shuffled a little but didnât say anything. âSorry. Heâs a bit shy.â
 âI was shy when I was his age. Itâs totally alright,â responded Aziraphale, crouching down to Warlockâs level. âIâm Aziraphale Eden,â he said, introducing himself.
 âI know who you are,â said Warlock. âYou looked after my friend Adam when his mum and dad were busy.â
 Aziraphaleâs smile brightened. âAdam is a lovely young man.â
 âI like him. He let me borrow his colouring pencils in class.â
 âYeah? Do you have your pencils with you today?â he asked. Warlock gave a little nod. âThatâs good. I have some colouring sheets that you can do. How about you go set yourself up on that table over there while I talk to your Pa?â
 Warlock smiled a little and wandered off, backpack in tow, leaving Crowley and Aziraphale alone together. âI should probably give you this,â said Crowley, passing over a plastic bag, though hands lingering for just a few seconds too long.
âWarlockâs allergic to peanuts. Heâs usually pretty good at knowing what he isnât allowed to have but Iâve put his EpiPen in there just in case. Itâs in the box. His lunch is in the bag too. Do youâŚâ
âYes, I know how to use an EpiPen,â reassured Aziraphale.
 âOh good. Guess I donât have to explain that then. And I know this probably goes without saying but Warlock has a lot of trauma. And I know weâve taken all the same classes but just⌠be careful. Heâs my kid, you know? Donât hurt him.â
 Crowley waved goodbye to his son and set off for work and Aziraphale went to find those colouring sheets he had offered to Warlock.