Ineffable

Volcano

As the pandemic unfolded Crowley and Aziraphale barely saw each other. The rest of the world was on lockdown, but they had their work cut out for them. Aziraphale, in particular, was stretched thin. He was on assignment wherever he was needed: China, Paris, New York, Brazil, Tehran. His days were a blur of pain and misery. He started to lose track of where he was. The hospitals were all the same; the patients struggling for breath in hallway beds, the terrified, exhausted doctors and nurses, the grieving families saying goodbye to their loved ones over Zoom. The masks and face shields made everyone look the same, regardless of their nationality. Aziraphale went from dying patient to sobbing spouse to despairing intern, in an endlessly repeating rotation, offering whatever solace he could.

Crowley wasn't quite as busy, but he was also overextended.The Brexit talks were in their final stage, and there was plenty of opportunity to sow discord and mistrust. The Trump White House was on a roll of evil deeds. The presidential election was in full swing, bringing out all of Donald Trump's worst qualities and the president's response to Covid-19 had been nothing short of demonic.

Crowley's heart wasn't in his work. He felt worn out and tired from it all. He missed the world as it had been, the crowded busy streets, the cozy pubs, the chance to do a little shopping. He had loved that world. The desolate quality of the pandemic - masked people avoiding each other on the streets, empty store shelves, fear, got under his skin. It was depressing. He missed ordinary human life, fueled by bubbly, foolish human hope. And he missed Aziraphale, who was also depressed and overworked, surrounded by misery every day. He was endlessly giving his love to the ill and the bereaved, and had little of it left over for Crowley.

Crowley was the modifier for the presidential debates, but when Trump got Covid and the second debate was cancelled he found himself with a free night. He decided to find Aziraphale, who was working in the slums of Rio. He thought maybe they could stroll on the beach, get a room with a view of the sea. He bought a bottle of cachaca and wandered through the favelas of the city, keeping an eye out for the angel's unearthly glow.

It was a warm night and the soft air was sweet with the smells of humanity, dinners being cooked, smoke, urine, tropical flowers. The streets were less busy than usual, but in this impoverished neighborhood, isolation was not an easy thing to achieve. There was a sense of life as children played in the streets. Masked people shopped for dinner at a leisurely pace. A few bars were open.

Crowley spied the glow of Aziraphale's wings, visible only to himself, in a small apartment above a shop. Three forlorn children sat on a stoop. Inside, he could hear a woman wailing. Crowley melted into the shadows and waited.

It was an hour before the angel descended. He spent a few moments comforting the children. Then he sent them upstairs, to the apartment where their dead father lay, and their young mother was racked with grief. When Crowley caught a glimpse of the Aziraphale's stricken face he felt the pain of it in his own gut. Aziraphale recognized him and hurried across the street.

"You came to see me," he sighed, collapsing into his arms. Crowley pulled him close, trying to comfort him.

"Come with me, angel," he whispered. "You need a break."

They took a walk on the beach. It was a gorgeous night. The moon shone over the sea. The stars were bright above, hovering over the great glittering city. They passed the bottle of cachacha as they walked and found a hidden spot among the dunes to lie down together. Aziraphale gave himself over to Crowley's attentions. Afterwards they lay in the warm sand, listening to the soothing roll of the surf, content in each other's arms. They didn't speak. There was no need to. It was good just to be together.

At last Aziraphale stirred.

"I have to get back," he sighed.

"So soon, Angel?" Crowley nuzzled his ear. "I thought we'd have some dinner, get a room."