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1998, London
They were everywhere. Every child and teen seemed to have one. Aziraphale found the idea endearing. A tiny toy that can be your friend, something you can keep in your pocket and care for at any time of the day? Simply fascinating. Humans have always had the habit of coming up with things that were objectively speaking completely useless, yet made their everyday lives a little bit brighter.
Aziraphale has spent millenia engaging in human customs, going against Heaven's expectations. He loved food and wine, even though he wasn't supposed to eat or drink anything at all; he loved music, even though all he was ever supposed to listen to were the celestial harmonies; he made friends among the humans, even though he was supposed to only observe them from a distance, and maybe occasionally save or bless them. One more manmade thing couldn't hurt, could it? Well, all right, it was meant for children, but it wasn't like an immortal celestial being's age mattered, was it?
The angel finally made his decision.
One hour later, he was the proud owner of a brand new Tamagotchi. There was a wide variety of colours available in the shop, and he immediately chose his favourite: bright yellow — the colour of Crowley's eyes, of course. Oh, how would the demon tease him for his purchase! Aziraphale didn't mind, though. They both knew Crowley was actually a great big softie, and they both pretended not to know.
He curiously inspected the toy's instruction manual. He learnt that he could feed his tiny pixelated friend; check its age, weight, health, and happiness; play a mini-game with it, and clean up the occasional droppings, with the ability to potty-train the pet. He needed to be wary of his pet getting sick, too, and he could apply medicine to it when necessary.
So silly.
Aziraphale loved it.
(He'd never kept a pet before, not counting that one time in 1625 on Mauritius when a certain extremely bored demon recruited his help in domesticating a dodo for fun. Their endeavour was surprisingly successful, until a pirate ship sailed by, and the poor bird soon ended up as the captain's dinner. Aziraphale still nursed a sore spot for pirates hundreds of years later.)
He excitedly switched his new toy on the first time. An image of an egg appeared the screen, prompting him to set the clock on the device. Afterwards, the egg spent a few minutes slowly wiggling and hatching. Aziraphale watched it with a jovial smile. The instruction manual mentioned that after the first 65 minutes, the newly-hatched Baby pet would start evolving into a Child. While waiting for this to happen, Aziraphale explored the features. When the time came, he fed his pet, cleaned up after it, and played a little with it. After the Happy and Health meters showed the creature was satisfied in every way, Aziraphale dimmed the screen to provide the necessary dark for his virtual friend's slumber.
In a few days, his pet evolved into a Teen―the angel was delighted to see that it now had arms and legs―, then it soon reached the Adult stage, apparently developing a duck-like beak. Aziraphale took exemplary care of it for as long as the device allowed. His pet alien was happy and well-fed, perfectly potty-trained, and never needed to be scolded.
*
One evening Crowley visited the bookshop. They were well into their fifth bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, the gramophone playing a sped-up version of Shostakovich's Symphony No. 4, the demon arched backwards over the arm of the sofa with his head hanging upside down, the angel tucked into his trusty old armchair, wondering how on Earth Crowley was still able to drink in that position at all, his throat bobbing upwards. Ridiculous serpent. He absolutely, resolutely did not stare at the impressive length of the demon's neck all stretched out in front of him. He did not.
His not-staring was interrupted by the virtual pet beeping for attention.
Crowley immediately recognized the telltale sound of the Tamagotchi, but decided to play dumb.
"Angel?" he asked with an eyebrow inching towards his hairline. "Whot was that?"
"Oh, well, you see, the humans came up with this... thing," Aziraphale stammered. "It's silly, but so adorable."
Crowley really tried to hang to his carefully cultivated Very Bad and Evil Demon™ persona, but lost the battle upon the topsy-turvy sight of Aziraphale proudly holding an actual fucking Tamagotchi. Like he wasn't deep enough in love already with this ridiculous angel. "Aziraphale," he croaked, slowly oozing down from the arm of the sofa onto the floor, in true serpentine fashion. "Wha— Why—"
"I've been seeing the humans play with this darling toy, and I wanted to know what they were so enthusiastic about," the angel explained.
"So you went and bought yourself a Tamagotchi."
"Oh, so you do know it!" Aziraphale beamed.
"Of course I do, angel. The entire city is beeping. And this time Hell didn't even have anything to do with it."
"What could Hell have to do with it anyway?"
"Oh, c'mon," Crowley started ticking points off on his fingers. "Mass production of a cheap piece of junk. Pollution caused by transportation of said cheap piece of junk. Hysteria over sales. Humans getting addicted to a plastic toy. Annoying beeping that eventually drives everyone insane."
"Really, my dear," the angel tutted. "It teaches responsibility. Let them have some fun. Let me have some fun," he added with a pout.
No, not the puppy eyes! You can't do that to me! Crowley thought, entirely defenseless against the angel's most powerful weapon: the Tactical Pout®. He tried to mask his burst of affection with a fake sarcastic drawl. "Ffffun?" He let out a heavy sigh and heaved his molten corporation off the floor, mentally preparing himself for Aziraphale's adorably enthusiastic presentation of the Tamagotchi's features. "All right, then, show me what it does."
So much for the Very Bad and Evil Demon™ persona.
*
After his first pet died of old age―happy and sated, though―, Aziraphale decided to play again. Once again, he watched his new friend wriggle out of the egg with a smile, which quickly turned into a questioning eyebrow raise when, instead of the usual alien creature, a tiny snake hatched. How strange, Aziraphale thought. When the first evolutionary cycle was complete, he noticed that the Feed menu only showed coffee and wine as available options. In the first three days the snake spent an alarming amount of time sleeping and barely required feeding. It wouldn't leave droppings and was unwilling to play. Despite all of this, its Happy meter was over the roof, showing ten hearts even though originally there was only space for four on the minuscule screen.
When it reached the Adult stage, a pair of black sunglasses appeared on its head.
"Crowley?" Aziraphale whispered incredulously. "Is that you?"
The snake nodded its head in agreement and wiggled across the screen. The device beeped, indicating that the pet wanted to be fed.
"Oh, of course. Now, would you prefer coffee or wine?" Aziraphale mused aloud, than, taking a look at the clock, made his decision. "You'll get coffee, my dear, it is too early for alcohol," he chuckled.
The snake's tiny, pixelated head visibly scowled.
"Really, Crowley," the angel huffed and gently petted the screen with a fond smile on his lips. "We are going to have a lovely time."
And they did. Over the following weeks, Aziraphale was surprised to discover that somehow a functional version of the Snake video game was now running on his Tamagotchi, and he spent hours and hours playing with Crowley this way, making the snake chase tiny apples appearing on the screen at random. The demon never seemed to tire himself out, and demanded copius amounts of wine in return. Aziraphale managed to overfeed his pet quite a few times, causing it to wobble around the screen drunkenly.
*
The next time they met on their usual bench in St James' Park. While they were catching up, the Tamagotchi woefully beeped in Aziraphale's pocket. The angel took a look at the screen with furrowed brows. The snake was still there, asking for his attention.
"Crowley? How are you still in there? You're sitting right here next to me."
"Ngk. Technically I never was in there. I... may have infused the thing with some of my demonic essence," the demon admitted. "You— I can take it out if you don't want it," he added while rubbing a palm against the back of his neck.
"No, dear, leave it there, please," Aziraphale smiled sweetly. "This way we can be together even under Heaven and Hell's watchful eyes."
Crowley's sputtered answer was an interesting vocal rendition of a keysmash consisting only of consonants, and, inexplicably, a few audible question marks.
Aziraphale understood him either way.
***
2023, on the way to Heaven
Aziraphale has never felt more awful in his millenia-long existence. He regretted his decision the moment he stepped into the lift with the Metatron, but there was no turning back at that point. Not yet, at least.
Seeking comfort, he fondled the small, oval object he always carried in his pocket. It never needed a new battery and never broke down. The beeps have been muted a long time ago, since Aziraphale didn't need them to know when his friend needed care and attention. His snake cyberpet was twenty-five years old in human years, had a steady diet of coffee and wine, never got ill―however, it still did end up drunk quite often―, and regularly needed to be disciplined for its mischievious behaviour.
Most important of all, it was always happy.
While the Metatron's attention was otherwise occupied by his own self-importance, Aziraphale stole a glance at the screen of Tamagotchi and his body suddenly felt frozen solid.
The Happy meter only showed one heart.
But the snake's tail itself curled into the shape of a gently pulsating heart.
"Oh, beloved," Aziraphale thought, hoping to somehow telepathically broadcast the message to Crowley. "I will come back to you, I promise."
He squared his shoulders and forced a pained smile on his face before stepping out of the lift.