"Is it?" Aziraphale said mildly. "I would call it factual. Although I'm sure there are differences between our Fathers' histories." He wasn't. Not to mention the fact that it was ridiculous to act as if there were two Gods. There was something absurd about the entire concept of disparate Heavens, and Aziraphale truly wished he had evidence to contradict it, but at this point he couldn't present a more reasonable theory.

With a sigh, he shrugged, letting his legs stretch out as much as he could; his muscles were tensing up. "I was never asked to. I wasn't particularly important. But it would have been - frustrating. Difficult." He thought, too, that it might have changed him, or rather kept him the same. He had been happy on Earth, more or less, and he'd never met a happy angel in Heaven, because happiness was not a concept that had meaning in Heaven. Nor contentment. Just . . . existence, and service.

Service was all well and good, of course, but there had to be something more to it all than that.