Chapter Text
The sun was out, which should have been a blessing, but could be more like a curse depending on who you asked. The heat beat down relentlessly, and the light reflecting off the still water of the North Atlantic was nothing short of blinding.
Aziraphale woke up to radiant sunlight that illuminated the sea, painting a scene that looked straight out of a movie, with dazzling sparkles peppered across tiny blue peaks created by the gentle ocean breeze.
Crowley woke up to a picture even he couldn’t deny was something that possessed a beauty akin to the Garden of Eden — but as aforementioned, if you asked him, the sunlight might as well have been hellfire disguised as carcinogenic yellow beams designed to keep life hooked on just to kill it sooner or later, and something that would surely result in his corporation disintegrating.
“Oh! Isn’t it just beautiful, Crowley?” Aziraphale whispered as his head adopted the range of movement an owl would usually possess, his voice dripping with reverence.
Crowley observed him sceptically, leaning against the doorframe of the sailboat’s interior, the only place that provided shelter from this atmospheric griddle whilst allowing him to make sure Aziraphale was in one piece and stayed that way. “Ngk. If you say so, Angel.”
Aziraphale would not let the demon’s obviously feigned nonchalance have any effect on his plans for the day, which included only one of ‘fishing.’
The angel had never tried fishing, it did seem like a grand old time whenever he saw people doing it alongside the Thames, or better yet, when he watched Jesus and his friends do it from afar. Of course, he was not allowed to approach them, but he was content to live vicariously through them. He had made a mental note all those years ago to try the activity, but to his disappointment, never really made the time for it.
“Crowley?” He hummed curiously, glancing over his shoulder to catch Crowley’s eyes.
“Mm?”
Aziraphale swivelled his shoulders around, his face lit up less by the sun and more with childlike excitement. “I was thinking about catching something for our dinner. Would you like to join me?”
Crowley paused for a moment, truly considering the offer before flashing his teeth with a small grin, shiny even in the shade. “Oh- No, I’m alright, angel. Perfectly fine here, not getting disintegrated by the sun.”
Crowley never saw the point in trying to fish, seemed like too much effort when he could just snap his fingers and have bouillabaisse right in front of him.
They both often seemed to forget they didn’t need to eat.
Aziraphale scowled at him and rested his hands on his hips expectantly, which usually worked if he tried hard enough, but Crowley’s expression soured into a reluctant laugh.
“Not gonna work.”
“Please, Crowley?”
Crowley propped his arm against the doorway, pushing himself away and holding himself there. “You know I have to man the ship, angel. ‘S risky enough letting it be whilst we slept.”
There was a long silence in which Aziraphale’s pleading expression softened the adamant resolve in Crowley’s chest. “Tell you what, if you need my help, call me.”
Aziraphale sighed, he knew Crowley had to keep them afloat and on course since he was the only one who could [1], but he wished that they could just get it done with a miracle.
— - -
Crowley had been watching Aziraphale fumble with rope nets and fishing rods that he was far too unfamiliar with to catch anything for the better part of the afternoon, occasionally chuckling to himself when the angel uttered profanities he thought were quiet enough to be concealed under the wind.
He was stood idly on the top deck, his hand on the wooden wheel of the small boat. It looked out of place, but replacing the modern controls with it was the last miracle Crowley had performed when he realised he was only familiar with settings on ships from the 1800s.
He wondered why Aziraphale hadn’t already called him down for help, which was amusing given the amount of distress he was displaying, but he knew the angel had his stubborn streaks.
The sun, which had once set the horizon ablaze in a sharp blue, had settled into something less dangerous and more nurturing. Not that it mattered too much to Crowley, he was happily wedged under a wooden awning.
As it continued to set, Aziraphale’s efforts never relented. He wanted to catch a fish, and by God, he was going to bloody catch one.
After the fourth hoist of his net, Aziraphale squealed, the sound sharp and piercing.
Crowley shook himself straight before leaning over the railings and peering down to where Aziraphale stood— or bounced, rather— clapping his hands as a singular, but hefty fish thrashed about, caught in the net.
“Crowley!” The angel called out excitedly before even realising that Crowley was already standing there, watching him.
“Yeah?” The demon replied, his voice tinged with awe.
“Look! I got one!” He exclaimed as he looked up and grinned, bursting with excitement.
“I can see that, great big bugger too.” Crowley nodded approvingly, his chest strangely warm.
“How do you like your fish?” Aziraphale grinned up at him, the orange sunlight tinging his hair golden, almost matching Crowley’s eyes.
“Any way you like it will do.” He called out, trying to disguise the soft affection in his voice as he returned back to the wheel.
— - -
A couple of minutes had passed in silence, Crowley had climbed up onto the wooden awning and sprawled himself over it like a cat, his leg hanging over the edge, and the last rays of soft sunlight warming his back.
“C-Crowley?” Came Aziraphale’s noticeably timid voice with a prevalent quiver in it.
Crowley immediately jumped out of his relaxed state, clobbering down onto the top deck and down the stairs. The fire in his eyes was rekindled, and his posture ready for combat. “What is it, angel?”
When he rounded the corner of the walls of the interior of the ship, he found Aziraphale, whose cheeks held evidence of tears, and the fish, now swimming in a bucket of water.
“Oh,” Crowley mumbled, coming down from his guard, but feeling no less protective.
“I can’t!” Aziraphale exclaimed.
“Yeah, makes sense.” He hummed, going over to the angel and peering at the fish. “Want me to do it?”
Aziraphale considered this, looking at him, his breathing heavy, before looking at the fish and beginning to cry again. “No!”
Crowley sighed before wrapping an arm around Aziraphale and letting him rest his head on his shoulder defeatedly.
The angel’s body quivered against Crowley, but there weren’t many tears. It was mostly shock.
“Shall we let it go, then? Not like we need to eat.” Crowley murmured into Aziraphale’s hair.
Aziraphale nodded timidly, sitting back up and wiping his face, “I- I hate that they have to die to be eaten.”
Crowley hummed noncommittally, “’S just how it is, angel.”
Aziraphale flitted his gaze over to Crowley before focusing back on the fish. “Yes. Yes, I suppose it is.”
“Come on, angel,” Crowley grunted as he picked up the bucket, the water threatening to splash on his shirt before he bared his teeth at it.
The two of them walked down to the stern of the ship, Aziraphale following closely behind Crowley.
Once they reached the wooden barrier between them and the water, Aziraphale reached into the bucket, picking up the giant fish, which seemed to stop struggling entirely in his hands, as if it knew it was safe with him.
Crowley observed this interaction and felt a strange twist in his chest, but ignored it.
“Come, little one,” Aziraphale murmured soothingly as he lowered his hands just enough so that the sea spray tickled his palms, before releasing the fish into the sea.
The fish lingered for a moment, then swam away into the vastness of the ocean.
“Probably be eaten by something else, anyways.” Crowley thought, but he kept that thought very much to himself.
Aziraphale looked back at Crowley, his eyes big, giving away the fact that he was, in fact, slightly annoyed.
“I really did want sushi,” He whimpered dejectedly, “It’s been so long, and I thought what better place for sushi abundant than the sea.”
Crowley shrugged, leaning back against the frame of the boat. “Too bad we can’t miracle it either.”
Aziraphale groaned, turning his body away. “Indeed. This truly is a right mess.”
And a right mess it was. It had been a long way to get here, and it would be an (ever-so-slightly) shorter way to get back to where they were.
[1] Crowley was no stranger to the sea, he spent plenty a year on ships, tempting sailors into stealing the loot onboard, becoming pirates and capsizing other boats. During this time, he picked up a thing or two about sailing. [Return to text]