Every day, the end has been getting closer … and it’s finally here! The sixth installment of Good Omens 2, in which Crowley goes to Heaven, demons get foamed, and, well, there’s a kiss. The end of this season marks a major turning point in the relationship between our main angel and demon.
1. The Angels and the Bees
In the last episode, Crowley was “arrested” by Muriel, the low-level angel who was sent to monitor Aziraphale. They are a sweet, naive cinnamon roll of an angel, and Crowley uses this to his advantage, gaining access to the Heavenly Records Department. He dons an angel “disguise” and accesses the files on Gabriel’s disappearance.
Intent on Armageddon 2.0, the other archangels are ready to go to war—again. But Gabriel vetoes the plan, and as Supreme Archangel, he pulls rank to stop another war between Heaven and Hell. Gabriel doesn’t give any explanation of his decision other than “not feeling it,” leaving his coworkers stumped. Since Aziraphale is already considered a traitor to Heaven, the other angels cast Gabriel out, lest this refusal to go along with the Divine Plan be seen as an “institutional problem.” Gabriel seems resigned to demotion to Hell, but the archangels decide to wipe his memory, strip him of his clothes, and banish him to Earth instead. But before they can take his memory, Gabriel escaped—only to appear nude and clueless on Aziraphale’s doorstop.
For four years, fans have speculated on what Crowley might’ve been like as an angel. In Good Omens 2, we get two very different glimpses of him: in episode one, as an innocent, excited starmaker, and here, as a jaded double agent, gleefully mocking the angelic penchant for silver jumpsuits and gold makeup. (He even has a gold tooth and gold toenail polish! Ha!) Crowley has always made statements with his fashion, blending in seamlessly with human trends, and, now, angelic ones. He mocks the other angels’ heavenly raiments and looks like the epitome of demonic dorkiness while doing it.
2. Battle of the Bookshop
While Crowley is reading Heavenly meeting minutes, Aziraphale and the humans, plus Jim, are battling a horde of demons with fire extinguishers. (The shop has battery-powered candles and dozens of fire extinguishers due to the devastating fire in season one.) Shax hurls cutting remarks at them while they blast the demons with foam. It’s … silly. Good Omens is, after all, a comedy. The humans chuck encyclopedias at the demons while Aziraphale watches in horror. It’s all a little whacky but doesn’t feel too out of place. The original novel may not be the source of this story, but this bit, while a little dumb, fits the vibe of Good Omens, which is ultimately a story where a gaggle of kids ganged up on Death—and won.
Eventually, though, they run out of fire extinguishers and encyclopedias, so Aziraphale takes drastic measures. He removes his halo, which is apparently something he can do, and throws it at the attacking demons. Aziraphale’s halo move seems a bit OP, since it came out of nowhere. The effect is to … declare war? Apparently? When it impacts Eric the disposable demon, it explodes and stops the action. If this were a video game, that might make sense, but here the halo is a MacGuffin that serves to return all the important players from Heaven and Hell to one place—the bookshop.
3. Ineffable Bureaucracy: the rarepair that could
Before leaving Heaven, Gabriel scribbled a message to himself on the cardboard box he carried with him to Earth: “I’m in the fly!” Throughout the season, we’ve seen a fly buzzing about the bookshop, usually bothering Gabriel/Jim. Turns out, his memories were hiding in the fly all along. When his memories are restored, we see a shippy montage of enemies meeting in secret, agreeing to work together to stop Armageddon, then falling in love. Sound familiar?
In the most obvious Doctor Who reference of them all, Lord Beelzebub gives Gabriel a little fly container that’s “bigger on the inside.” It’s no TARDIS, but the cute little fly keeps Gabriel’s memories safe for him while his archangel colleagues mount their search. This reveal of the fly was clever and satisfying on first watch, since I’d noticed the fly a few times but couldn’t figure out what its significance was. While I watched Gabriel and Beelzebub fall in love, my jaw dropped in surprise. A small segment of the Good Omens fandom has paired up the two since season one, but never in a million years did I expect it to come true on screen.
Continued belowAfter arguing over the starcrossed pair, Heaven and Hell allow them to run away together. Crowley suggests Alpha Centauri, where he once wanted to run away with Aziraphale. Declaring that they’ll never come back, Gabriel and Beelzebub sing their lovey-dovey Buddy Holly song, then disappear. Aziraphale gets to see a romantic confession in the spot he prepared in the bookshop after all—just not from the people he expected.
4. An offer he couldn’t(?) refuse
With their leader gone, Hell’s representatives leave. Nina and Maggie return to real life as small business owners. And who should appear in line for coffee but the Metatron, God’s representative on Earth. The Metatron banishes the archangels and subtly orders Aziraphale to drink the coffee he’s provided, continuing this season’s use of food and drink as symbols of connection to earthly pleasures. Contrast his sneering command that Aziraphale drink up with Aziraphale’s kindness in providing Muriel and Jim with the novel experience of beverages. Or even the blatantly horny way Crowley offered Aziraphale a taste of meat in the Job minisode. In each instance, food or drink is offered and consumed as a way of signifying power, distance from grace, or the hospitality of the one offering it.
But while Aziraphale and the Metatron chat, Crowley receives an intervention. Nina and Maggie chastise him for meddling in their affairs. Then they say the quiet parts that have been subtly running in the background of Good Omens 2 out loud: Crowley and Aziraphale don’t talk about their feelings for each other, and they need to. (Of course, what Nina and Maggie don’t know is that Crowley and Aziraphale have been speaking in code for so long that they might not even know how to have a real conversation.) Their relationship was forbidden, they had to hide or risk the destruction of one or both of them. If you haven’t seen the queer subtext of this aspect of Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship until now—well, I’m not sure what to tell you, because it’s right there. And about to become text.
Emboldened to finally make his move, Crowley tries to confess his feelings to Aziraphale, only to be interrupted. Turns out, Aziraphale has been offered a promotion back to Heaven—all the way up to the top. He’ll replace Gabriel as Supreme Archangel. The thing that made Aziraphale take the job is the fact that he could restore Crowley’s status as an angel. This … doesn’t go down well with Crowley, who wants nothing to do with Heaven or Hell. In a last-ditch attempt to get Aziraphale to run away with him, Crowley (sortof) confesses his feelings and (sortof) asks Aziraphale to choose him, not Heaven. It … doesn’t go well.
When Aziraphale insists that they could go back to Heaven together, seeming to misunderstand why Crowley wouldn’t want to go back, Crowley leaves. Neither of them said the most important thing, though, which is that they both want the other to be safe and happy—and, crucially, Crowley leaves out the fact that he knows Heaven is planning another Armageddon. Then, as a final-this-time attempt at showing Aziraphale what could have been, Crowley grabs him and hauls him into a kiss. About a thousand emotions show on Michael Sheen’s face, even while he’s being kissed. He clearly wants to be kissed but not like this. When it’s over, he looks absolutely devastated, instead of ecstatic. Aziraphale got his confession and he got his kiss, but as a goodbye, not the beginning of something new. He “forgives” Crowley—knowing this is the worst possible thing to say.
The scene is heart-rending. Tennant and Sheen bring their A-games while the music swells, dies, then resumes its sad march toward the end of the episode. As Aziraphale composes himself, the Metatron reappears and leads him back to Heaven, only revealing at the last moment that what Aziraphale will be in charge of planning is … the Second Coming of Christ.
5. The case of the missing nightingales. Or, about that final fifteen minutes…
To some, his choice to return to Heaven was a betrayal of Aziraphale’s character. To others, it obliterated his character growth from the first season. And to many, it was a complete shock. I fall somewhere in the middle. Yes, it walks back Aziraphale’s character growth from the first season. But this is understandable from a narrative perspective, given that the story needs to bridge to season three, and to do that, you need characters at odds or a falling out. Yet I just can’t help but think the whole thing could’ve been better supported by hints earlier on that lead up to the final scene. On my first watch, I was absolutely flabbergasted that this was what happened. After rewatching, I can see the ways that Aziraphale and Crowley talk past each other and fail to communicate vital information, leading to their separation. (“Aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear.”) Should a show require multiple viewings to feel internally consistent, though? There are so many easter eggs in Good Omens 2 that I was always going to watch again. And I’m a fan, so of course, I’m going to spend my time thinking about character motivation and clues. But what I’ve grappled with several times this season is whether a show made for fans obsessed with easter eggs can succeed with a more general audience—and since a show needs as large an audience as possible to succeed, what does that mean for its future?
Continued below6. Wait and see
This season was always meant to bridge the gap between the novel and its plotted, but never written, sequel. So while a cliffhanger was a shock to many fans, upon reflection, from a storytelling structure, it makes sense. Without the doom-and-gloom ending of The Empire Strikes Back, we wouldn’t have the triumph of Return of the Jedi, after all. But for fans who waited four years hoping to see Aziraphale and Crowley happy together … to say it was a bummer is an understatement.
Will we get a Good Omens 3? Gosh, I hope so. To leave the ineffable pair separated and heartbroken is sweet, sweet torture, especially considering that renewal is not guaranteed. Although Good Omens has a dedicated following, with the uncertainty of the streaming business model and the ongoing negotiations between studios like Amazon with the writers and actors’ unions, a reunion for Crowley and Aziraphale isn’t assured. One good sign is the Kickstarter for the graphic novel adaptation of the original book; it surpassed expectations, becoming fully funded in only ten minutes after launch and continuing to break site records.
So, I hope I see you sometime in 2025 for another round of Good Omens coverage. In the meantime, we’ll always have nightingales in our hearts, if not our television screens.
