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"But what am I?" Aziraphale, who felt more hopeless than he had in ages, eyed the demon before him earnestly.
The Demon Crowley looked back at Aziraphale sympathetically. Sympathy, as it was, had always clung to Crowley. It was one of his greatest weaknesses, and it ailed him more so when he was with Aziraphale.
"You're just an angel," he began, "who goes along with Heaven as far as he can." He'd said it with all the niceness he could muster. He wasn't typically nice. He didn't like to be, wasn't supposed to be. It seemed that his new acquaintance, however, had inspired him.
Aziraphale looked at him, absorbed his words, feeling rather puzzled. "But that sounds, uhm..."
"Lonely?" Crowley finished for him. He shrugged. "Yeah."
Aziraphale swallowed the emotions that swelled in the back of his throat. They threatened to spill from his lips as a sob. "But you said it wasn't?"
"I'm a demon," Crowley said. He looked across the water without an ounce of guilt. "I lied."
They sat there together for a long time, soaking in the dismal silence. Crowley had always been fond of Aziraphale, but that day something changed. Something new grew in his blackened heart. Something warm and fuzzy and tingly. Something that felt a little bit like love.
Part of him had hoped Aziraphale would try to thwart him. He wanted to form an alliance with the angel, as unlikely as it sounded, but he couldn't help but question Aziraphale's morals just a little bit. He was still and angel, after all. He couldn't deny his own nature. Crowley had witnessed the nature in question just before The Flood. Aziraphale had seemed so cold and calm about the whole ordeal. He hadn't questioned God then, when They'd drowned thousands of innocents, including, let's not forget, children.
Crowley knew, however, the risk that came with questioning God directly, and he couldn't blame the angel for not trying.
"You going to be alright?" Crowley asked. The sudden sound of his voice over the peace of the beach nearly startled Aziraphale.
He gave a little nod. "I - I think so."
"You know," Crowley began, as he schemed up an idea, "You've done a lot of disobeying today. Why stop now?"
Aziraphale looked aghast. "I really don't think -"
"I'm just offering you a drink," Crowley said in an attempt to be casual. "It's not a sin to drink. Only to be drunk. You can have one drink, Angel."
"Oh, but I... I really..." Aziraphale stared at Crowley. The last temptation the demon offered had been quite wonderful. Aziraphale could still taste the ox on his tongue. But he knew this was about more than wine and food. Crowley was tempting him with something far more dangerous: friendship. "Fine," Aziraphale said. "Just one drink. I'm afraid that's all I can really afford."
Crowley allowed a smile to creep to his lips. He leaned over and placed a hand on Aziraphale's shoulder. Their departure was instantaneous. Crowley transported them into a busy street where little shops and tents were scattered about, and people bartered at every corner. The noise started Aziraphale, and he became disoriented. "C'mon!" shouted Crowley. He took the angel by the hand and led him up a narrow stair way. With the wave of a hand, a door flew open, and Crowley pulled Aziraphale over the threshold. The door slammed shut behind them and the noise outside became muffled. "Whew! Busy out there today."
"Where are we, exactly?" Aziraphale questioned nervously.
"Town called Mehrgarh," Crowley murmured, pulling a large jug from a shelf along with two clay cups. "It'll be called Pakistan one day."
"How do you know that?" Aziraphale questioned.
Crowley poured wine into both cups. "Uh... don't remember." He pulled out a chair for Aziraphale and sat one of the cups down in front of the seat. Aziraphale sat, but he did not drink. "It's not going to bite," Crowley sneered, scooting the cup closer to him. He sat in the seat opposite Aziraphale and took a generous sip form his own cup. "So," he began, "any idea what God's planning next?"
Aziraphale met Crowley with raised eyebrows. "Why on Earth would I tell you that?"
Crowley shrugged. He leaned back in his chair, as if his bones were made of rubber (not that rubber had been invented yet), and eyed Aziraphale playfully. "I'm just making small talk, Angel."
"Small talk?"
"Yeah, like current event. The weather. You know, casual stuff."
"I don't think giving intel to a demon is considered casual."
"Depends on how you look at it. Are you going to drink that, or not?"
Aziraphale looked back at his cup. Carefully, he took it in his hand, and raised it to his lips. When it hit his tongue, warmth spread though his corporation. It was sweet and fruity with a bit of a tart aftertaste, but it wasn't bad at all. It was rather delicious, actually. He had to admit, Crowley had taste.
"We're on our own sides now," Crowley reminded, "I thought we established that."
Aziraphale sighed. "Yes, but we're not on the same side. I don't have to tell you anything."
"No," Crowley purred, "but then we wouldn't have anything to talk about, would we?"
Aziraphale considered the thought. He couldn't explain why, but there was something comforting about Crowley's company, something that made it difficult to refuse it. Perhaps, it was when he was with Crowley, he finally didn't feel so alone. They were alike in many ways. Perhaps more so than they were different, like two sides of the same unfortunate coin.
He remembered Crowley from before his fall. He remembered what a delightful soul he'd been as an angel. There was, in fact, still part of that soul inside of him, Aziraphale could sense it. He sometimes thought the fall hadn't really changed Crowley at all, and that he was just following new orders with the same intention. Crowley had never intended to harm Job's goats, nor had he had any intention of harming his children. Aziraphale figured that should be reason enough to trust him. Sure, he was a demon, but after that day, to Aziraphale, he was much more.
"Well, I did hear something," Aziraphale began, "about a place called Egypt."
"Hmm. God really doesn't like to travel far, do They?"
"I think They just quite like the area," Aziraphale informed. "But no, not - not really."
"Too bad. You should see the stuff going on in China right now. Lovely culture. Plus, their gods are way cooler."
Aziraphale looked offended. "They're not real, Crowley."
"Doesn't matter." Crowley bellowed. "They've got dragons."
"Dragons aren't real, either," Aziraphale breathed.
Crowley rolled his eyes and was reminded that he was still wearing his glasses. He removed them, and he placed his gaze upon Aziraphale.
Aziraphale would never admit it, but he liked Crowley's eyes. They were pretty.
"So, Egypt, eh?" Crowley went on, "I've never actually been there."
"Really? Well, I'll be headed there soon." Aziraphale took another sip, swallowed, then added, "Maybe you could.... oh, I dunno, come for a visit."
Crowley stilled, and softly asked, "You'd invite a demon into your home?" Amazement floated on his words.
"It's called hospitality," Aziraphale said flatly. "Anyway, you've welcomed me into yours. It would be rude of me not to."
Crowley smirked as he tilted his head, something ominous in his eyes. "If you need an excuse to see me, all you need to do is say so."
Aziraphale blushed. "I don't need anything from you. I was only trying to be polite, but if you don't want to -"
"I didn't say that," Crowley blurted. He had hoped for an invitation into the angel's abode one day, and he hoped he hadn't messed up his one chance. He just couldn't help himself. It brought his great joy to flirt with the angel. "If you'll have me, then I'll visit."
"I'll have to procure some wine for the occasion," Aziraphale said calmly.
"Oh, definitely," and Crowley took another sip of his wine, licking his lips.
Aziraphale almost smiled. "Has, uh, has Hell given you any new instructions?"
"Not yet. As long as I'm causing distress, they stay pretty happy down there. Although, since you'll be in Egypt for a while, perhaps I'll station myself there."
"Why?" Aziraphale pouted, "So you can counteract all my good deeds?"
"Not at all," Crowley gasped, pretending to sound offended. "Do you doubt your ability to perform such deeds? I'll only be there to encourage you to do, well, more good deeds. I'll cause some discomfort among the people; you'll be there to pick up the pieces. We could make a game out of it."
"A game?"
"Exactly. Like, uh, like kickball."
"I've never played kickball," Aziraphale said sheepishly.
"Shame. It's real fun. Fan favorite in Hell."
Aziraphale forced a smile. "That's probably why I've never played it."
Crowley smirked. "You need to have more fun, that's your problem."
"I have plenty of fun," Aziraphale defended. "Just a few weeks ago, I was uhm..." Aziraphale wracked his brain. "Well, I was skipping rocks over the water, and I was getting rather good at it."
Crowley looked at him quite dismally. "Skipping rocks is fun for you?"
"Certainly."
"Hmph. You do seem the type. You probably find reading interesting as well," he mumbled.
"As a matter of fact, I do."
Crowley rolled his eyes very bigly. "Yeghk."
"If you'd prefer to be uneducated, that's your prerogative."
"I'm an immortal being. Don't need to be educated."
"So am I, but that doesn't stop me."
Crowley watched Aziraphale intently before asking, "Wasn't the original sin about seeking knowledge? Yet here you are devouring knowledge like the apple itself."
"That - well, that, you see," he sputtered, "That was different."
"How so?"
"Uh, well... uh," Aziraphale cleared his throat as he searched for an answer.
Crowley smirked. "You naughty angel. Reading. Okay, then. Maybe it is more fun than I give it credit."
"It's not a sin to read. God encourages it actually."
"So, you can read a book, but you can't eat an apple to the same effect?"
"It is not our place to question the -"
"The Almighty," Crowley said mockingly. "Yes, I know. Trust me. Been there, done that. Didn't end well."
Aziraphale tensed a little at the mention of Crowley's fall. His bringing it up seemed to dampen the mood slightly, but Crowley didn't care. He'd dampen all he wanted. "Can I ask you something, Angel?"
"Go on," Aziraphale said cautiously.
"Why is that God's kept you around? I mean, today wasn't the first time you stepped out of line. Why are They so forgiving with you?"
This was a question Aziraphale had asked himself nearly every day. "I don't actually know," he stated. "But They do seem favor me. For what reason, I'm not aware of."
"Maybe They do," Crowley hummed, "But do you ever think that maybe They just stopped caring?"
Aziraphale met Crowley's dismal stare with raised eyebrows. "Why, of course not. The Almighty is caring."
"Yeah, but," Crowley continued, "I was cast out for just asking simple questions. You were there! And you - you give the humans a bloody flaming sword and thwart The Plan to kill Job's kids, and -" a look of realization overwhelmed Crowley's features. "That must be it then."
"What's it?" Aziraphale questioned, trying not to sound too eager.
"Why They must have kept you all these years," he explained. "You've disobeyed, sure, but never for your own good. Always for Their blessed humanity," he sang. "That's why They like you."
Aziraphale considered this. "You really think so?"
Crowley shrugged. "Must be," he said. "Good for you, though. Must be nice to disobey and get away with it."
"I wouldn't speak to soon."
"I doubt you've got anything to worry about," Crowley assured him. "If God wanted to punish you, They've had done it by now. The only people you need to worry about are those other pesky angels. They could probably do something, if they found out."
"Well," Aziraphale chortled, "if we learned anything today, it's that they're more easily fooled than we expected."
Crowley chuckled, too. "Yeah, that Gabriel never was the brightest star in the galaxy."
A moment of silence passed between them before Aziraphale asked. "Do you ever miss it? Making stars, I mean."
Crowley looked back up at Aziraphale. "Sometimes. I can still do it, I just, you know, it's not the same."
A curious smile crept to Aziraphale's lips. "You can?" he inquired.
"Well, yeah. It's not a big deal really. Here, I'll show you. For old time's sake." The demon laid down his cup and got to his feet. He spread his arms, wiggled his fingers, and a ball of brilliant orange light lit up the room. It was tiny, but it Aziraphale admired it all the same. "Do you have a favorite color?" Crowley asked.
"Oh, uh, not - not exactly." Warm spread to his cheeks. "I do really like the color it is now, though. Very pretty."
Crowley shrugged. "Alright then, I'll show you mine." And the ball became a beautiful bright blue color. Aziraphale couldn't help but notice it was the exact color of his own eyes, but it must have been a coincidence.
"You're very talented," Aziraphale sighed in admiration.
Crowley blushed, but Aziraphale could hardly notice, too taken by the minuscule star dangling in front of him. "I could take you up there, to the stars, I mean. Alpha Centuri's lovely this time of year. Ou there I could show you on a larger scale what I've really got up my sleeve."
Aziraphale couldn't help but smile. "You would do that?"
"Yeah, we could make a date out of it." The words had left his mouth before he had time to process them. "Not - not a date," he laughed nervously. "Not - I mean, just uh, just uh a friendly outing. A picnic, rather."
Aziraphale's smile nearly faded. A date, though he wasn't sure what a date was, had sounded quite nice. And although he was sure what a picnic was either, it sounded just as wonderful. "A picnic," he agreed breathily. "Sounds rather lovely."
Crowley cleared his throat. He dropped his arms, and the ball of light fizzled out. He planted himself back in his chair, and noticed both their cups were empty. He feared the angel would want to be leaving soon and made an attempt to fill his cup with more wine. Aziraphale did not protest, and Crowley was pleasantly surprised.
"That's your second cup, you know."
"Oh, yes, well..." Aziraphale began, taking the cup. "I can't let you drink alone, now, can I?"
Crowley smiled and raised his own glass. "A toast then. To not drinking alone."
Aziraphale smiled back, and their glasses met with a soft thud.