Yeshualoved weddings. He really did. There was good food, music, company, and wine, and if there wasn't wine, he made some. But, as the night wore on, and the dancefloor filled with couples, he found himself where he always did: sat at a table with the other unattached people. In this case, it was Freddie and Death.
Of course, Freddie had been continually asking him to dance since the floor had opened up, but so far Yeshua had begged off. It wasn't that he minded dancing, but Freddie's attentions had started to feel less like genuine, lustful, attraction, that Yeshua should thwart, and more like friendly concern for his wellbeing, which he should deny needing, and while he might have enjoyed a platonic dance with an interested party (even if he wasn't that way inclined, or allowed to be interested himself,) Yeshuawas less eager to partner up for the night simply out of a lack of other options and Freddie's pity.
He'd probably give in and dance with the man, eventually, if it would make Freddie feel better, but for now he was content to sit here, at this table, drinking wine, and revisiting an old argument with Death.
A completely ridiculous and totally unfair argument.
"You're making it sound like I'm the arsehole," Yeshua said, disbelieving, "Like I'm the arsehole, for dying for humanity's sins—in what has to be the most unpleasant way possible."
"IT WAS DAMNED INCONVENIENT."
"Is it really, though?" Freddie asked. "Don't get me wrong. Crucifixion sounds terrible, butI can think of things that would be worse."
"Like what?" Yeshua demanded.
"Well," Freddie said, considering. "What if you were starving to death on a deserted island, and you try to climb to the top of the mountain to get a better view, maybe see if you can see any civilization, only you get to the top, and there it's completely deserted. You collapse from exhaustion, and a bird comes and picks out your eyes, and your tongue. You lay there, slowly dying for a day, then you see an airplane, so you try to get to your feet to signal it, but you lose your footing and fall into a volcano. That would have to be worse, right?"
"How would you see the plane, if the bird pecked out your eyes?" Yeshua wanted to know.
"Okay, you hear the plane then."
"And all this time, you've just been conveniently collapsed on the lip of a volcano, without noticing?
"Maybe you're far enough away that you don't feel the heat, and the volcano just spontaneously erupts, the moment you hear the airplane."
"And the airplane is just flying around next to an erupting volcano?"
"The plane is full of volcanologists, there to study the eruption," Freddie suggested.
"How did you end up on the island?" Yeshua asked.
"Shipwreck. You were attacked by pirates. Your leg was blown off my a cannonball. The ship's surgeon managed to successfully amputate it, just before the pirates boarded. They shot him, and threw you overboard. You spent three days, feverish and fending off hungry sharks, clinging to a piece of the wreckage, before you washed up on the island."
"And you managed to climb to the top of a volcano, with only one leg, while you were starving to death?"
"You really wanted to survive," Freddie said. "You'd just been offered a captain's position. About to marry the love of your life. Sick mother at home that depended on you for everything, and you finally had the money to pay for the surgery she needed to save her life."
Yeshua threw up his hands. "Okay, fine! In the highly unlikely event that you were attacked by pirates, lost your leg, suffered through a fever,been attacked by sharks, climbed a mountain, while starving to death, with one leg, had your eyes and tongue picked out by birds, and just as you were about to be rescued (by an anachronistic airplane,) you were burned to death by a spontaneously erupting volcano, that would be worse than death by crucifixion. But, it still wouldn't bemy fault."
"I'M JUST SAYING," Death said,"THAT CARRYING YOUR SOUL AROUND FOR THREE DAYS WASN'T A WALK IN THE PARK FOR ANYONE. IT WASN'T WHAT I SIGNED ON , EVERYONE KNOWS THAT THE WORSE WAY TO DIE IS DEATH BY EMBARRASSMENT."
They both stared at him.
"THE IGNOMINY LASTS LONG AFTER THE PAIN HAS ENDED. TRUST ME, IT'S MY BUSINESS."
Yeshua frowned. "Maybe," he allowed, "but, are you telling me that you volunteered for the whole Angel of Death gig? Because, if that's the case, I think that I'd lose all respect for you."
"WHY? IT'S A JOB, LIKE ANY OTHER. IT'S GOING TO GET DONE EITHER WAY, AND I WAS PROMISED RETIREMENT, AFTER I PUT IN MY SIX THOUSAND YEARS. THOUGH, YOU CAN SEE HOW WELL THAT PAID OFF. WORKING ALL THE HOURS GOD SENDS, AND THIS IS THE FIRST PROPER NIGHT OFF I'VE HAD IN AGES."
"So, you're just in it for the benefits package?" Freddie asked.
"AND THE MERCHANDISING."
"I honestly can't tell if you're joking."
"IT'S A BIG EGO BOOST, SEEING YOUR FACE ON T-SHIRTS AND RECORD LABELS."
"I can't disagree with you there," Freddie said.
"Easy for the two of you to say," Yeshua grumbled. "They always either make me look like some white guy with an inappropriate love of sheep, or they stick me up on that damned cross again. It's depressing. I mean, if-"
"This one's for The Son of God!" Azazel's voice interrupted him, drunkenand amplified by the electronic equipment scattered throughout the room.
Yeshua looked up to see him, male once more, but still wearing the silver evening dress, standing on the stage next to Lucifer, holding a microphone, and looking straight at him.
"What," Yeshua mumbled, but then Azazel started singing.
Whatever the song was, it started out innocently enough.
"I'm not feeling alright today.I'm not feeling that great." Azazel actually had a surprisingly nice voice, and Yeshua just watched him with perplexed suspicion.
It solidified to just plain suspicion as Azazel sang, "The barber can give you a carpenter can take you out to lunch," and made it sound like a euphemism.
"What's he…" Yeshua started again, but it just went on.
"I just want to play on my panpipes.
I just want to drink me some wine.
As soon as you're born you start dyin', so you might as well have a good time."
By the time he got to the repeated chorus of, "Sheep go to Heaven. Goats go to Hell," Yeshua was getting to his feet.
"I think I'm going to get some air," he told Freddie and Azrael, over the music. "It's getting a little hot in here."
"I'll say," Freddie agreed. "I can storm the stage and perform Jesus next, if it makes you feel better."
Yeshua forced a laugh. "You should, but I'm going to step out for a bit."
They both watched, as Yeshua wove his way through the tables and out the door.
'WEIGHT OF THE WORLD ON HIS SHOULDERS, THAT ONE," Death said. "MUST BE WHY HIS SOUL IS SO HEAVY."
"I don't think I've ever met anyone who needs to get laid so badly, in my life," Freddie added.
oOoOoOo
Yeshua stepped out into the night air, closing his eyes to feel it cool on his face, and let out a deep breath.
He shouldn't let Azazel get to him so much. He knew that. You couldn't expect empathy from a demon. But, he had learned to expect it—through Crowley's sympathetic winces, and mumbled dispersions about God on his behalf, throughout their time together. But, then, Crowley was different. He'd never been a very good demon, or a very bad one, at that. And, Azazel, while not particularly excelling at it, did seem to revel in his work. He'd found Yeshua's sore spot, and took every chance he could to poke at it. Maybe Yeshua should have just accepted the blow job and had done with it. Dad might have sent him to Hell, but Adam didn't make it sound all that bad, and maybe it would have been worth it. Azazel was probably pretty good at blow jobs; he'd undoubtedly had enough practice.
Yeshua heaved a sigh. It was just sex. There was more to life than sex. But, if Freddie could go out and do it with any stranger that caught his eye, every night of the week and twice on Sundays, and still go back to Heaven, then why couldn't he? It was the unfairness of the whole thing that really bothered him. Hadn't he been through enough? Hadn't he been sacrificed, in love of humanity, that the faithful could have eternal life? Didn't he deserve a little love of his own? Didn't he deserve to be happy?
His thoughts were broken by the click of a disposable lighter and the brief flare of alighting cigarette. He looked over to see a slight, blonde woman, the shadow of her face briefly illuminated by the glow of the burning ember, as she took a drag and let out a plume of smoke.
She held the cigarette away from her so the breeze would blow the smoke in his direction. "I quit, about a year ago, " she said, "but it's been quite the night. I suppose you're Jesus."
"Yeshua," he said.
"Of couse." She took another drag. "I'm Marcia."
"Adam's girlfriend?"
"Ex-girlfriend," she clarified. "I'm not supposed to be here. I was kidnapped by a goat and almost eaten by a dinosaur."
"I know the goat," he said, sympathizing.
"And Adam said you're responsible for the dinosaur."
"It was his idea," Yeshua said, stepping closer. "I just did the resurrection."
Marcia hummed, taking another drag. "I'm an Atheist, you know. I don't believe in you."
"That's okay," Yeshua said. "Sometimes I don't believe in me either. Could I have one of those?" he asked, pointing to the cigarette.
She took the pack out of her purse and handed one to him, along with the lighter. "They're stale," she warned. "Like I said, I quit. Didn't even know that I had them, but I don't usually use this purse. The goat found it in the back of my wardrobe. Said it went with the dress."
"It's a nice dress," Yeshua said, lighting the cigarette and coughing a bit on the first drag.
"I'm supposed to be wearing a pachycephalosauruscostume," she said. "I spent weeks on it. It's Halloween. I'm supposed to be getting drunk with a bunch of nerds and arguing aboutdinosaur reproductive habits, and whether t-rex had feathers, or if brontosaurus ever existed, not freezing my arse off in a skimpy dress and smoking stale cigarettes with Jesus Christ."
"Yeshua, please."
"Yeshua," she corrected. "Sorry. It's just been kind of a rough night."
Yeshua shrugged. "It's okay. I'm out here because Azazel is onstage making fun of me, because I wouldn't have sex with him."
"Isn't he married to Satan, or something?" she asked.
Yeshua shrugged, not sure how to even begin to explain that relationship. "He was sent to tempt me into sin, to damn my soul to Hell. He's still a little sore that it didn't work."
"Well," she said, "good on you, for not falling for it, I guess."
"My chastity remains intact," he said, with a self-deprecating tone.
"You don't sound all that happy about it."
Yeshua shrugged. "Sometimes it isn't easy being the messiah."
"I'll bet."
They fell silent for a moment, smoking companionably.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Marcia asked, stubbing out her cigarette.
"What?" Yeshua asked, freezing with his own cigarette halfway to his mouth.
"Not, uh… for the loss of chastity thing. Just, get out of here. You don't seem like you're having any fun. You can come with me to my Halloween party, if you want—argue creationism with a bunch of drunk paleontologists, or whatever."
"Do I need a costume?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I have a compsognathus fossil fragment back at my flat. You could," she wiggled her fingers. "It'd be a pretty cool party trick."
"What's a compsyg- whatever you said?"
"Little guy," she said, holding her hands a few feet apart."Won't eat anyone. I promise."
He considered. "Okay. Yeah. Why not?"
The cab pulled up then, and Marcia gestured to it. "I guess this is us."
Yeshua gave one last glance over his shoulder, back at the William Kent House, music emanating loud enough to be heard, even outside.
As soon as you're born, you start dyin' So, you might as well have a good time.
oOoOoOo
Freddie eventually did take the stage. He sang Good Old-fashioned Lover Boy for the grooms, while Lucifer accompanied on his fiddle, Azazel sang backup, and the hired band did their best to play along.
Aziraphale and Crowley danced, so lost in each other, the music, and the moment, that neither of them paid much attention to how they were dancing, and just let their bodies move as they would—which turned out to be a much better approach.
Adam and Oscar had made it back out onto the dance floor as well, after calling for a cab and then being sent away by Marcia so that she could, "just have a moment to process without you two hovering over my shoulders. I'm fine, Adam, really. Just go away."
It was fine. Everything was fine. Adam would call her tomorrow, once he had Oscar settled back in Hell, and he'd figured out exactly what his new responsibilities were supposed to be. By then, she would have either convinced herself that tonight had all been some crazy dream, or she'd be asking him a thousand and one questions about Dilly.
It would all be fine.
"Is something the matter?" Oscar asked.
"No," Adam said, looking up at him. "Just worrying about things I can't control. I suppose I should go have that talk with my Grandmother now."
Oscar raised a brow. "Do you want me there for moral support?"
Adam snorted. "God's supposed to be the one you turn to for that. But, no, actually I think I'd rather go alone. Do you mind?"
"Not at all. I think the night is nearly over, and I'd like a chance to say a proper goodbye to Aziraphale. I don't suppose I'll be seeing him again anytime soon."
Adam frowned. "I might not want to be in charge of your afterlife, but I am. I don't know exactly what that means yet, but things are going to be different. I'll make sure that you can see Aziraphale, and any of your other friends, whenever you want."
Oscar blinked in surprise at the idea. "Robbie?"
"Robbie Ross?" Adam asked, and Oscar nodded. Oscar hadn't brought him up before, but Adam had done a bit of googling one night, to give himself a historical refresher course, when he realized that he was falling for him, and Robbie's name had come up more than once. He was a former lover, which brought a sting of jealousy, but he'd been a good friend to Oscar, and he was one of the few people who hadn't abandoned him in his time of need. "Which side of the afterlife did he end up on?"
"I never saw him in Hell," Oscar said, "though it's a large place. He might be there."
"I'll find him," Adam promised, "and anyone else you want. Just let me set up some ground rules with Gran."
"Ground rules."
"I don't doubt for a second that She's somewhere behind all of this. She's behind everything. And, if She thinks I'm going to give up everything I've worked for, for the last five years, She has another thing coming."
"In that case, I rescind my offer to accompany you, and wish you the best of luck. I'll be standing a safe distance away."
Adam stretched to press a reassuring kiss to Oscar's lips and pulled away. "It will be fine. She doesn't scare me."
It was a lie. She did scare him, at least a little. He'd have to be a complete idiot not to be wary about arguing with someone who'd been known to rain down fire and plagues when She didn't get Her way. But, Adam didn't like bullies, and he wasn't about to stand down either.
So, it was with more than a little trepidation that he made his way over to the table that God was sharing with the Virign Mary—having taken a break from dancing.
"Adam," She greeted, smiling warmly. "I see you've made your decision."
"Oscar," Adam said. "That's what you were being characteristically cryptic about before." He took a seat across from her. "So, did I make the right choice?"
"Time will tell," She said, "but I think so." She turned to Mariam then, "Why don't you go have another piece of cake, dear? Adam means to express his displeasure with me. There's no need for you to witness that."
"I don't mind," Mariam said, but God gave her a pointed look, and she sighed and left the table.
"Doesn't she have a husband?" Adam asked, when she'd gone.
"Of course," God agreed, "but she's the mother of My child, and I am God. Her devotion is to Me first, and her earthly bonds second."
"Right," Adam said, happy to leave the intricacies of their relationship at that.
"I am happy that you've chosen to take up your responsibilities," She said, "though, I would have preferred that you had done so of your own accord, rather than feeling as though you have been forced into it. It is a kind thing that you're doing for Oscar."
"I love him," Adam said.
"I know. I can feel it coming off the both of you like the fallout from an atomic bomb."
"No need to make it sound so destructive," Adam grumbled.
"Not at all," God said. "I only mean to convey the magnitude, and in such a short time. It's surprising."
"Surprising? Aren't you supposed to be all knowing?"
"I've told you before, Adam. Freewill is outside my purview. You chose to love Oscar. Because of that love, you've chosen to take your place in Hell, so that you can be with him. I had nothing whatsoever to do with it. After your years of protests, I'm surprised that you would give up your hard won autonomy so easily."
"That's what I'm here to talk to you about. I don't plan on giving up anything. I'll live in Hell. I'll work in Hell. I'll do what you and my dad want, but I'm not going to be pushed around. It's a job. It isn't going to be my entire life. I expect regular working hours, and holidays. I'm going to finish my degree, and I plan to continue my paleontological research. I don't mean just with Dilly either. I want time off for excavations. I'll turn down any university positions, and I'll operate privately, if I must, but I'm not going to just sit on a throne in Hell like a good little Antichrist."
"I'm not your boss, Adam," She said. "Lucifer isn't even your boss. This isn't an occupation; it's a vocation. You'll have responsibilities. How you choose to exercise them, and the consequences of those decisions, will be entirely up to you."
"So, I can skive off the job completely, and no one will care?"
"A great many people will care, and pay the price for your apathy, but I doubt it will come to that. This is the role you were born to play: your destiny. Once you settle in, I think that you'll find you're well suited for the task. And, it shouldn't prove to be all consuming. You'll find time for your hobbies."
Adam took out his mobile phone, pulled up a picture of Dilly, and set it in front of Her, a self-satisfied smile on his face. "I'd bring him here, for you to see in person, but he wasn't invited, and Crowley will have a fit."
She sighed. "You're going to ask Me a lot of questions, aren't you?"
"I've been making a list," Adam agreed.
She sighed. "It isn't what you think it is."
"Do tell."
"I don't have to explain Myself to you."
Adam took his phone back, snorting. "I figured You'd weasel out of it."
"They were here when I got here," She hissed.
Adam froze. "What?"
"Not another word about it," She said.
"No. Hang on. You can't just…"
"Not. Another. Word." She said, voice taking on a tone that was one step away from making his ears bleed.
Adam fell silent.
God held out Her empty hands, and when Adam blinked, they had been filled with a curved fossil bone the length of a walking stick. "I told you that if you made the right decision, I had a gift for you. I hope that this will keep you busy down in Hell for a while. I'm sure that Yeshua can help you with the assembly."
"A mate for Dilly?" Adam asked, taking the fossil reverently, and turning it in his hands, examining it.
"I was going to give you coordinates and let you have the fun of digging it up yourself, but since you insist on being difficult… I hope this will put a stop to your questions."
Adam looked up at her sharply. "What? No! Not even a little bit. This doesn't explain anything."
"Ah, well, I'll just have it back then."
Adam pulled the fossil toward him protectively. "You're bribing me?"
"Is it working?"
Adam frowned down at the fossil in his hands and sighed. "Yes," he admitted, reluctantly. "This is a rib bone, isn't it?"
"You're the paleontologist."
"Of course it is." He looked away for a moment, deliberated, and met her gaze again. "Fine. No more dinosaur questions, but we both know that the Book of Genesis is full of lies, and if they are a practical joke, then the joke isn't on me."
"It's a lot more complicated than you can imagine. We all have roles to play, even Me."
"And what the Hell does that mean?"
"Ineffability is inevitable."
"Right, well, this has been confusing as ever, but thanks for the dinosaur. I'm sure Dilly will be excited. I take it, since he's supposed to be performing resurrections, that this means you're letting Yeshua stick around."
"Yeshua has left the building," God said. "In the company of your young lady, as it happens. He's getting quite a bit of practice with prehistoric resurrections, as we speak."
"What?"
"I can hardly drag him home, kicking and screaming, from his first date."
"With Marcia, resurrecting dinosaurs?" Adam felt a fierce sense of jealousy that was more professional than romantic.
"I'll send Gabriel to clean up the mess, if there's anything left of him when Beelzebub is finished with him, and Azrael has the night off, so there's no mortal danger for any of the innocent bystanders, or the not so innocent ones, for that matter."
"What about the enforced chastity?" Adam asked. "I've been listening to him complain about it for months. Now, you're suddenly fine with him dating?"
"His obligations have been fulfilled. Of course, I expect him to marry the woman before he has carnal knowledge of her."
Adam barked out a laugh. "Oh, Marcia will love that," he said sarcastically. "Good luck." He stood, still clutching his prize to his chest like it might disappear.
"And you as well, Adam. I think that you'll discover that Hell is what you make of it."