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It was a bright sunny day in St James's Park. An angel stood by the lake and pretended to watch the ducks, while actually watching two people under a tree from a discreet distance. The people were an unlikely-looking pair: one had light hair and clothes, the other was red-haired and dressed in black. Ten minutes ago they had arrived with a basket and laid out a blanket, then sat down together and opened a bottle of wine. Now they were laughing and smiling together as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Their angelic observer frowned at the impropriety of it all, but stayed where she was.
This was a routine surveillance job – Heaven had promised to leave its rogue Principality alone, but it could hardly be expected to leave him unwatched. Uriel could have sent any one of a million underlings to do it, and probably should have, but she wanted the job herself. Lately she had found herself looking for excuses to visit this damp, distracting mudball.
The inclination was a new development – Uriel had always strongly preferred the austere peace of Heaven to the vivid chaos of Earth. Until very recently, that is. Since the failure of Armageddon, she found she could no longer bear that peace, even though she felt sure it would soon be taken from her. Perhaps it was because it would soon be taken from her.
Like all (well, almost all) angels, Uriel was used to feeling certain in her thoughts and actions. Doubt was a new concept to her, and she did not appreciate the discovery. She now found herself constantly wondering if she would Fall, when she would Fall, how bad it would be. Was this niggling itch in her right wing a prelude to their fiery destruction? Would this step be the last to meet solid ground, before an unfathomable plummet? Did this unnecessary breath carry a trace of sulphur? It was intolerable.
In an attempt to take her mind off things, Uriel had obtained something called an 'ice cream' from a man with a cart, who was now slightly confused and in possession of a coin that hadn't been official currency for several thousand years. Unlike Gabriel, she had no aversion to food, and the humans seemed to find this particular food appealing. Comforting, even. Perhaps it would help. And, well, it was good for keeping up appearances.
The ‘ice cream’ Uriel had chosen consisted of a cold white substance, stuck to the top of a fragile yellow cone, with a brown stick in it. She examined the thing curiously and took a tentative lick, mimicking the behaviour of the humans she had observed. It was soft and sweet, and the coldness was quite pleasant. While definitely not her favourite thing, the experience did prove a little diverting. Uriel reserved judgement until further experimentation had been carried out.
Under the tree, her targets were enjoying their picnic. The demon was feeding something to the angel, one spoonful at a time – perhaps they also had 'ice cream'. Aziraphale was almost glowing with delight, a bright undeniably Heavenly aura that felt somehow deeply unfair. How could he be so pleased to be in the company of a demon, of all things? How could he be so happy and content, when angels far more loyal than himself were tormented by fear as a result of his actions?
Every angel knows their purpose, as certainly as humans know they are alive. Angels do God's will and demons defy it – that is what each side is for. They have no choice in the matter. Choices are for humans. But since Armageddon, a dreadful question had arisen, one which was causing great consternation among the few who now couldn't help but ask it. How can you do God's will if you don't know what God wills?
Aziraphale had defied the Great Plan, defied Heaven itself. He had actually done Hell's will on many occasions, according to Michael's evidence. He had consorted with a demon, shirked his duties and thwarted the Great Plan. And he had not Fallen.
Uriel could not comprehend why. Was it God's will that the Great Plan be thwarted? Was it all a feint, a ruse? Were Uriel and the others the ones who had defied God's will? Had they all failed a test they didn’t even know they were taking?
When Aziraphale did not Fall as expected, Heaven took matters into its own hands – and failed. That had made things far worse, because it could only mean that the Almighty Herself did not want him destroyed. Aziraphale had walked proudly out of Heaven, leaving the useless Hellfire behind him, and Uriel had spent every moment since braced for the worst.
She knew she wasn't the only one. Thankfully the attempt had been kept very quiet, but those who did know of its outcome were all evidently unnerved. Gabriel had become more insufferable than ever, doubling down on his confidence and pretending this had been the plan all along. Sandalphon was less smug than before, and followed Gabriel's orders diligently like a new recruit desperate to prove their loyalty. Michael was often absent from Heaven on business they would not discuss. And Uriel, well. Uriel was here, looking for clues to what was expected of her on a world that surely should no longer exist.
A sudden burst of coldness from her hand made her gasp, momentarily afraid that this was It. She looked down to find the ice cream had begun to melt in the sun, covering her fingers in cold sticky sugary goo that felt utterly disgusting. She eyed it sullenly. "You," she said to the rebellious treat, "are more trouble than you're worth." A flick of the wrist later, both the cone and its mess had been banished into the ether.
She looked back up at her targets, to find they were now looking suspiciously in her direction. Oh bother. Had they noticed the miracle? They had clearly noticed her, at any rate. Uriel turned and walked away along the path, trying to look nonchalant. She had seen enough to consider the task done, and would return to Heaven once she was safely out of view.
Further along the path, she risked a glance back. Aziraphale and his demon had returned to their picnic, all smiles and laughter. She turned away again and strode off angrily. It just wasn't fair.