Chapter Text
The Nile was lovely at sunset. The cranes flying across the great scarlet disk of the sun towards the desolate West Bank. The call of songbirds, wildlife, and fishermen over the washing of the water, the scent of green life and rich, black soil. A beautiful tapestry, weaving together the creations of both God and Man ... but Aziraphale was too heartbroken to enjoy it.
The angel, chin in hand, and sat near the shore where the reeds grew tall.
"You told him I hate fish liver," Asmodeus said from behind Aziraphale's shoulder.
"I-- oh. Yes, I did, didn't I?" Aziraphale said with no small amount of relief in his voice as he realized that he might have helped Tobias (he hadn't). He took the jar of beer he was offered but didn't touch it.
"Yep. Saved him. Dirty pool that was, angel."
Better to pretend it was the smell of fish oil, and not the girl's words that had driven him off.
The demon sat down beside the angel, set the jar between his Egyptian cotton chiton-clad knees, and sucked at the straw, now just waiting for Aziraphale to speak. He'd known him long enough, by now, to understand when it was that he needed to get something off his chest, and he had all the signs of it now, right down to the moony pout as he watched the sun sink down under the horizon.
"I really had fallen for him, you know..."
"You don't say," Asmodeus said.
Aziraphale didn't hear his muttering and continued, "I'd never really felt quite that way for a mortal before, but with him it was different. He cared for me as much as I cared for him, we shared so many interests in common and... oh, Asmodeus, he was dreadfully cute, wasn't he?"
"Didn't notice," Asmodeus said, teeth grinding on the clay straw.
The angel sighed as though his heart would break, a long pause and the cry of a scarlet ibis filling the quiet, before he said, "I don't think I'll ever love anyone ever again."
Slowly, the demon's viperish eyes turned to stare dead in Aziraphale's wistful face. His own face twisted momentarily with fury before settling on a deadly calm.
Asmodeus stood, stared out into the peaceful flow of the Nile, then hefted the toddler-sized jar of beer in a chaotic splashdown mid-river and stalked away from the shore. Away from the angel.
"Gracious! Asmodeus, was there something wrong with the beer? Don't go that way, you'll lose a sandal to the mud... Asmodeus?! Where are-- Oh, where are you off to, now? We only just got to Egypt!"
