Newt's morning started the same as most of the mornings during the last three years. He woke up at exactly 8.43 because Anathema always woke up at 8.30 and she spent exactly 13 minutes doing her morning bathroom routine. Then she got dressed and proceeded to a kitchen to make breakfast. All the breakfasts alongside other meals were planned for a week in advance. Ten minutes after her arrival to the kitchen Newt was supposed to appear there to "entertain her". Why ten and not thirteen? Because he's a man and needs less time to pick up clothes.
The rest of the day was scheduled as well as you would have known if you tried to get an appointment with Anathema. The most likely answer would have been "I'll put a friendly chat in between 15.37 and 16.21 next Wednesday, would you be so kind to contact me in advance if this time is unavailable for you". That in form of e-mail of course, since phones were too irregular and took too much precious minutes out of her carefully planned life so unexpectedly.
Newt was putting up with his wife's quirks not quite realizing why she was struggling so badly to keep everything in order. The thing is that all the careful planning was her way of making a sort of predictions. She was used to know the major turning points of her life, it reassured her throughout all pre-Apocalypse ages and putting everything in a tight schedule gave her an illusion of controlling the future. Without the guiding of Agnes Nutter she made an attempt at guiding herself. But placing all the little things in her day-planner she was sometimes forgetting about the real important ones.
Breakfast was going in unusual silence, Newt was turning in his head all the things he would like to say during the weekly Big Talk, scheduled after breakfast (10.09-10.42). He finished the dishes at 10.10 and Anathema was already getting slightly nervous as a result of unexpected delay. Newt even considered not asking The Question but it has already slipped from his tongue.
"So, where exactly is a baby on our schedule, honey?"
Aziraphale was standing on the porch of the cottage he shared with his ... partner ... friend ... not enemy. He shot a glance at the newly risen sun and realized that he particularly enjoyed himself that morning. Angel just started the list of pleasant things he can do today to make the day even better when his train of thoughts was abruptly stopped.
"Uncle Azi!"
Aziraphale slowly turned, his heart beating slightly erratic in horror of recognition. Yes, here she was, looking overexcited as usual, somehow even more childlike then he remembered.
"Good morning, Panny, dear. What are you doing here?" He tried to manage a friendly or at least polite smile.
"Don't know. One extremely handsome angel I've seen for the first time and… I've thought I've seen you all already, how much are there in heaven? Heaven is huge, you know? So fun to explore though I get lost a lot. And then they get angry with me, again… I hate when somebody is angry with me! Oh, what's behind that door?!"
She stormed right past startled "uncle Azi" through already opened front door. After a second of hesitation he went after her. He found her in the bedroom, staring at, well, already not sleeping Crowley.
"Who is he? Why is he wearing sunglasses indoors… inbeds… insomethings? That's a lovely box you have here! I HAVE to look inside it!"
"Of course you do", said Aziraphale wearily. The girl was too busy trying to open the box she just grabbed from the nightstand to hear anything going on around her.
Crowley looked at him as questioningly as he could wearing shades. Then he decided that looking was not enough. "Morning, angel. Who's that?" He pointed a finger at girl, not that there was any pointing needed, he just felt like it. "And what the heaven is she doing here?"
"That, my dear, is Pandora. And I have no idea what she is doing here"
"The Pandora, you mean? From the Greek myth? The one with a box?"
"Now, don't be silly. Myths are myths. But they were once composed by men. The one about Pandora was made by a man named Hesiod that got so annoyed with his wife that he came up with the myth where a woman was a cause of all evil on Earth. And yes, he named that mythical woman after his wife. So that is the original Pandora, Hesiod's wife, still trying to break my favorite box. Panny, that's locked for a reason"
"But I want to see what's in it! Uncle Azi, would you open it for me, please, pretty please"
"Uncle Azi?" mouthed Crowley, grinning like a snake he was. He reached his hand out for the pants on the floor, put them on and got out of bed. That was a strategic mistake from his side. Girl suddenly remembered of his existence and the box fell from her hands.
"Are you living here with Azi? Are you an angel too? Why is your tongue so weird? That's a bed for two, were you sleeping together? Oh my, I think I'm finally getting the sunglasses thing, they are totally awesome. Can I try them on?"
She didn't wait for any of the answers and went to the mirror putting on the shades she just took from Crowley. Aziraphale looked at him apologetically and saw that Crowley wasn't actually looking disappointed or annoyed and when the demon looked back his yellow eyes were full of mischief.
"She's really getting on your nerves, huh?" He turned back to face a girl who was now looking for his approval. "Yes, Pandora, they are totally awesome indeed. How long did you say you're going you're going to stay?"