Chapter Text
The wind rustled in the tall reeds by the river Jordan. Disturbing the delicate toga of a single man sat on its eastern beach. The sun was baking the ground that summer, and a lone warbler whistled from a wrinkled olive tree bowing over the opposite bank, but otherwise the man seemed utterly alone.
The man clad in purple, watched the bird patiently, paying no heed to the sun, and instead shifting on the piece of drywood he sat on that could not get comfortable no matter how much he thought about it. He was saving his miracles for later. Though he had an almost endless supply, he couldn’t be frivolous, not when so much was on the line.
Eventually his coworker arrived, heard before he was seen. The reeds rustled and there was a delicate panting, along with a quiet expletive, before a second man in a pure white toga pushed through the reeds. He looked quite dishevelled.
The man sat by the river didn’t look around at him. “Aziraphale. I was wondering if you’d show up at all. Not a good look for an angel.”
“Gabriel.” The angel panted, slowly crouching and falling into an ungraceful seat beside the man dressed in mauve. “My apologies. I got held up on the road by a bunch of thugs. It’s not as easy to travel alone in a toga as it is in Rome.”
“Well they weren’t a problem surely?”
“I mean, of course not, I was just trying to avoid conflict. I managed to get away without needing to harm anybody.”
“Well if they were robbing you they won’t land in Gods favour anyhow.”
“That's true Gabriel but I can’t go around ‘removing’ people willy-nilly. It would cause far too much trouble while I’m living here. And there are far too many people I want to remove…”
“How is Rome? To you. It looks like you’re enjoying it.”
“Oh I was.” Aziraphale nodded with a fond smile before frowning. “Before. I’ve been in Greece recently, Augustus created quite the Oligarchy under everyone’s noses, I didn’t want to stay for much after Cicero left the picture. Lovely man, brilliantly intelligent. Especially his manservant Tiro, an exemplary scribe, he can write as fast as anyone can speak- he could probably take Prevuil’s job if he’s not careful-“
“Prevuil hasn’t been God's scribe for a century now Aziraphale.” Gabrial interrupted the angels laugh.
“W-wait What? Really?” The man was stunned.
“Wow Aziraphale. You really have been here too long. Metatron took Prevuil’s job as God's scribe ages ago. Prevuil has moved down to working in collections to his heart's content. He was hard to talk to and he likes it down there so it’s better for everyone. Though to be honest Metatron has proven to be just as hard to talk to…”
“That seems… huh. I didn’t realise that could ever happen to Prevuil. So humans-turned-angels can replace actual angels now? Angels as high in rank as God's scribe? That’s somewhat worrying.”
“Ha, thats where you’re wrong Aziraphale.” Gabriel was smiling a bit too much and patted Aziraphale’s shoulder a touch too hard. “We shouldn’t worry if we’re doing a great job. And w- you’re doing a great job.”
“Oh well thank you. You’re doing a-“
“I know I am.”
“A-ahah.”
“I was told it was the demon Crawley wandering in this area. Your charge.” Gabriel continued nevertheless.
“Yes,” Aziraphale muttered. “Though he goes by Crowley now.”
Gabriel looked taken aback by a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. Blinking his bright violet eyes. “He changed his name? That’s odd. He’s still the same demon.”
“That’s up to him I suppose.” Aziraphale replied with a shrug, though he’d directed his eyes down towards the water. “He said he didn’t like that Crawley made him sound like an insect.”
“Well… He is one as far as we’re concerned.” Gabriel muttered, looking at Aziraphale with a hint of intrigue. “Is this a usual topic to pop up in general conversation while you’re battling each other?”
Aziraphale narrowed his eyes and watched the river as he thought of an answer. Gabriel noticed he’d picked a wrap of cloth out of somewhere and looked at that with twice as much intrigue. “I suppose so.” Aziraphale mumbled.
“What’s that?”
“This?” The blond angel brightened and opened it excitedly. “This is lunch!”
“... Lunch…” Gabriel muttered, looking downcast as the felt pulled apart to reveal a bushel of grapes, a chunk of bread and some expensive looking cheese, white with preserving wax. A single small knife tucked in the corner to open it with.
“Yes!” The angel gushed happily, cheeks rosy as he grinned. “Would you like to share? Lunch is best shared by a river-”
“No thanks.”
“O-K then.” Aziraphale quickly retreated from the conversation, stuffing a grape into his mouth and looking away as if he wished he’d never offered.
Gabriel was watching him with a look akin to irritation. “We’re not here for a picnic you know.”
“No- I-”
“Put that away. You need to go find Crowley now.”
“I do?” Aziraphale looked back at Gabriel in surprise. “Is that what you needed to tell me?”
“Yes, we’re here to guard Jesus.”
The angel nearly choked on a grape and swallowed awkwardly. “Crowley’s targeting Christ?”
“That’s what I’d heard.” He gestured across the river. “Jesus is about to be baptised across the river there. After that he’ll go into the desert and have a ritual fast. I heard that hell is sending it’s demons to try to tempt Christ while he’s out fasting and at his most vulnerable. I have to be here to protect the baptising itself, so it’s your job to go try and find Crowley before he gets to do anything. After the baptizing I can’t follow Christ out into the desert.”
“Why not?” Aziraphale questioned as he packed his lunch away.
Gabriel hesitated, trying to find a way around admitting that he hated deserts and had no interest in avoiding scorpions for 40 days and nights. “I need to be in Rome at the senate. I’m going to learn some more about this Pontius they’re going to send as the next Governor. I heard they want to appoint Pontius Pilate, he’s relatively unknown so I’m just going to get a good look at him.”
“Ah, the last one didn’t last long did he?”
“No, Tiberius is getting quite tired so he’s sending a proper soldier now. The Pontius are a historically military family.”
“I didn’t think Tiberius cared for much except little boys on his island.”
“Why’s that? Does he want another son?”
The angel slowly turned to look at Gabriel and didn’t say anything for many seconds. Aziraphale wondered if Gabriel remembered that humans nearing their 70’s generally weren’t able to have children? (Though that didn’t stop them from trying). And it held no significance next to what was rumoured to be going on. “No.” He replied slowly.
“That’s cryptic. Then what?”
“You must know that the Imperator’s life has been rife with demonic activity.”
“What would he want with little boys?”
“... I’ll spare you the details.”
“Aziraphale, what could that possibly mean? You do remember that I’m your superior right? No matter how long I’ve had to be down here on this rock.”
Aziraphale leapt at the chance to derail the conversation. “You’ve only been on earth for three decades, are you that excited to get back to not being here?”
Gabriel hesitated before admitting. “Of course I am. I’m an Archangel, no Archangel has had to be down here this long. I’ve got much better things to do that protect-”
“The son of God?”
“... Yes he is the son of God. Fine, he’s important.”
“You should be honoured to have the chance to defend such an important human! I think he’s quite charming.” Azirapale felt like his and Gabriel's roles had been reversed as he encouraged his fellow angel to do something he was admitting he didn’t want to do (Gabriel must really be tired if he was admitting that) but Aziraphale wasn’t going to shirk away from the chance.
“Charming or not, he’s extremely hard to deal with. I only just managed to get them to leave before King Herod killed every infant he could see trying to find him. Your demon did some exceptional work with that guy.” Gabriel muttered narrowing his eyes.
“Uh yeah… It was a shame I couldn’t foresee that.” Aziraphale was averting his gaze again.
“Then when I finally get to get rid of Herod, his successor’s just as bad. It’s taken this long just to finally get Christ here. At least John was easier to handle. Though his father was an irritation-”
“What did his dad do?”
“Zechariar? He insisted I was some mongrel off the street! He didn’t believe a word I told him about his son being conceived. When I finally convinced him of that, he said he insisted on the boy receiving the family name instead of naming him John like I was instructing him to. So I took his voice for 9 months till the boy was born and Zechariar did name him correctly.”
Aziraphale scoffed and desperately held back a laugh.
“What? He should just do as I was telling him to do! He was being obstinate!” Gabriel protested.
“You can tell an angel what to do, but humans don’t just do as you tell them all the time Gabriel.” Aziraphale carefully retorted, trying not to step on the wrong side of his superior. “You’re used to just telling angels to do things and they don’t question it. But dealing with humans… They have choices to make. Treat them like treating demons, you have to convince them.”
“You’ve been doing a lot of thinking Aziraphale.” Gabriel warned. “You can’t convince a demon with diplomacy.”
“No- no I take that back. Just… they’re not like angels Gabriel. Be patient with them. Remember free will.”
“I know what free will is. We had a war about free will.”
“Yes but you need to understand it.”
“What more is there to understand? Zechariar shouldn’t have questioned me if he’s truly as devout as everyone said he was to deserve fathering John.”
“He still had to check you weren’t a demon deceiving him Gabriel.”
Gabriel frowned, he wasn’t really getting it. “But I’m clearly not a demon.”
Aziraphale backed off carefully. “How was he to know that?” The two stared at each other for a moment, Gabriel was too indignant to answer.
“Either way, you’d better get to work.” Gabriel instructed, the other angel stood up and dusted himself off before Gabriel continued. “And change out of that Toga if it’s going to get yourself in trouble with the Jews here. Vanity is a sin after all.”
Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “Vanity? You do realise you’re wearing a toga too right?”
“Yes but I’m going to Rome next.”
“... A royal purple toga?”
“Why does the colour come into it?”
The blond angel huffed and marched through the reeds and out of sight without giving an answer.
Gabriel grunted and turned back to watching the opposite bank, still uncomfortable on his wooden log-chair. He’d always hated all of this earth business, that was for lesser angels. He just hoped that all of this son-of-god stuff would actually amount to something. Why did humans need a saviour among them if angels were there watching over them anyway? Angels had been lazy with their watch over earth, Gabriel had been saying it for centuries. Sending in a demigod wouldn’t solve that problem, if anything it would make angels lazier, like Aziraphale and his lunches.
But he supposed what he was most irritated about was being levelled down to being akin to a guardian angel, the lowest of the low. Yes Jesus was important, but maybe give him the best guardian angel then, or maybe a principality, sending Gabriel down felt like either overkill or a demotion in disguise. He’d never really felt happy with it, but it wasn’t his place to question that, he did his job and he’d done it well. He’d done it so well maybe he wouldn’t ever have to come down here again.
Eventually over the crest of the opposite dune, a group of humans arrived, led by the two humans he’d had a part in bringing to the world, John and Jesus. If you had a part in miracling their conception did that make them be related to you? Gabriel shook the thought from his head, angels didn’t serve families. And he had no interest in being related to them anyhow, they were extremely dim creatures.
As he watched the companions excitedly prepare for the event, Gabriel sat with one elbow on his knee, resting his chin in his palm. He was cloaked from them, so they believed they were alone. Given the political climate the whole thing had to be kept rather quiet, so only Jesus, his disciples and the most devout followers were attending the proceedings.
As they went, Gabriel listened and felt for any demonic activity, or any humans that might try and interrupt them. Eyes flitting around and ears twitching like a guard dog. His spare hand planted in the sand and clawing at it with tension he didn’t realise he had.
The minutes passed by excruciatingly slowly, the humans horribly jovial while Gabriels heart pounded. If this went wrong he didn’t dare think of what might happen, and if it all went correctly, the majority of his job would be done, he’d have successfully protected Christ as he’d grown up. Though he had no idea how long the boy was going to be around, the murmurs of his fate had been grim, and prophets hinted at him not living long past 30. In which case Gabriel maybe only had about 5-7 more years of this nonsense to sit through.
The tanned jewish man on the cusp of 30, had been standing barefoot in the river for a minute or so now, when Gabriel realised that he was looking straight at him.
He froze and cocked his head curiously, nobody else had seen him but Jesus smiled slightly. Well he was the son of God, perhaps he could see angels past cloaking, it wasn’t too much of a stretch of the imagination to come to that conclusion. Come to think of it, Jesus shouldn’t know who he was unless Mary had described Gabriel to him. He’d not seen the boy since he was a baby, since he’d had to do his ‘Guardian’ing afield. Thinking he’d been possibly recognised from being described in stories felt strangely uplifting. He gave Christ a little nod.
Suddenly there was a burst of light from the olive tree, and after a moment of adjustment the men and the angel could see a shining dove where the warbler had been sat.
The earth fell silent, even Gabriel widened his eyes in shock, the river flattened into a still reflection of the scene and the dove spread its wings.
“Can you hear it? Is it speaking?” A man whispered, and the others all murmured in excitement.
Gabriel's eyes flitted from the bird to the people as more and more of them spoke up as if they were hearing something. Cold tendrils clutched around Gabriels heart and he stared back at the dove, straining his ears. But he heard nothing.
Why nothing?
That was God right? Right there in front of him. And he couldn’t hear them?
He stood up quickly, but his mouth was dry and he found he couldn’t say anything. The humans voices were rumbling into cheers now, and Jesus was beaming. The dove finally turned to look at Gabriel and he froze.
Thank you for looking after my son? You did a good job?
Anything?
And then the dove was gone, without so much as a sound.
Gabriel found that he could breathe again and he looked down at the river that had begun to ripple with the wind as it returned. He’d even been shivering, and worked hard to calm himself, staring wide eyed as he tried to figure out what was going on.
It had been thousands of years he realised, since he’d last heard God, let alone seen them. Was it that hard for God to so much as acknowledge him?
He let out a shaky breath and looked up at the people again, they were cheering and dancing around their prophet happily, ecstatic after the blessing they’d just recieved, all of their worries about defying Roman rule dashed. He finally identified his strange emotion, it was jealousy.
Angels couldn’t be jealous, and Angels shouldn’t seek gratification either. So he closed his eyes and pushed the thoughts away, as far away as they could. He had a job to do in Rome.
But the disappointment festered inside him, unnoticed.