"Are you sure about this?"

"Not entirely."

"Then ought you not send another?"

"It is done; I cannot."

". . . Are you going to watch?"

"Hell yes."

Luke 1:26-27

In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin's name was Mary.

Gabriel sauntered out from a small house on the edge of town, tugging at the robes of his vessel to straighten them. Much as he would have preferred a grand entrance, most humans didn't do well with that sort of thing. This vessel, a servant of the Lord, had been easy to convince to accept him in, but it didn't have the same pizzazz he usually enjoyed. The vessel was also a bit of a hermit, he had discovered, and that would make it infinitely easier to navigate the streets of Nazareth without being noticed or hindered in this, a most holy of missions.

Pffftttt, he thought. Holy mission. I'm delivering a damn message; that's all. Surely there can be some way to make this a little more interesting.

He stopped by the goat pen belonging to his vessel and absently scratched the head and chin of one of the squat creatures as he looked around. "You wouldn't happen to know how many Marys there are around here, would you?" The goat lipped his hand. "Of course you wouldn't."

Gabriel's search proved to be easier than he expected. He spotted Mary in the first market he visited, carrying a handleless basket against her hip and trading items with a vendor. Liquid brown eyes were framed by dark brown, almost black hair that peeked out from her scarf, caught by the occasional gust of a slightly cooling, if arid, breeze. How he knew it was Mary, well -he glanced up at the sky- that was probably Dad's doing. But he had no doubt this was the girl he was seeking.

His eyes wandered lazily around the market now that he had spotted her. It was too orderly, too mundane. Too boring. He nonchalantly let his arms swing behind his back and snapped his fingers. The cross brace of a display table broke loose. Dozens of rolled woven rugs came tumbling from their precarious stacking. They unrolled as they fell, displaying a riot of designs and colors. The vendor tending the table panicked as he ran around to shoo people away from his wares, keeping dirty feet from trodding upon them as he frantically snatched them from the pathways between stalls. Gabriel smirked, but he noted with interest that Mary spared only a moment to view the disturbance before returning to her transaction. Not much for excitement, is she?

He left that market in search of a different gathering of people. It wouldn't do to ask questions about someone who was within eyeshot. He needed to find out where Mary lived. That was knowledge he hadn't been miraculously given. People in this town were quite forthcoming with information regarding their neighbors, though, and in no time at all, Gabriel was rounding a street corner to the small, tasteful home of Joachim and Anne, the parents of Mary. He scrunched his face distastefully as he thought to himself about what he was to do and vowed to have a little talk with Dad later about this tradition of 13-year-olds getting married and having kids.

He quietly let himself into the house, looking around to see if he was alone. It was even smaller than it looked outside. There were only two rooms. One for sitting, preparing food, eating. The other contained beds and a single wardrobe. None of the furniture looked pauperish; it was all sturdily made and well cared for. The whole of the home was that of humility. This was a content family who did not feel the need to rise above their stations; what they did not need, they donated. Gabriel nodded to himself. He approved. He looked to the wooden table with its three chairs and snapped his fingers. One of the chairs was positioned opposite the door where a little sunlight from the window touched his feet when he sat. He placed his hands on his knees. Now to wait.

The beam of afternoon sunlight had risen to Gabriel's chest by time the door slid open and Mary stepped inside. She was occupied with the basket as she maneuvered her way in and did not see him. He waited until she almost had the door closed behind her before speaking in a jubilant voice, "Mary!"

Mary stifled a shout as she jumped and dropped the basket. She spun to face the grinning angel, and her back hit the door, closing it.

"Welcome home! Boy, do I have some big news for you!" Gabriel tilted his head in amusement as Mary produced a dagger from beneath her robes. Her eyes flashed with a determination he admired. "Nice!"

"Who are you?" Mary demanded.

"Woah, woah, woah, Favored One." Gabriel put his hands out in from of himself, palms facing the girl, but otherwise made no other move. "Let's not get off on the wrong foot here. You can put that-" he pointed at the dagger with the first two fingers of one hand "-down." He flicked his fingers, ripping the dagger from her grasp and sending it across the room to puncture the wooden table top at an extreme angle.

Mary's breath escaped in a rush. Her eyes darted from the dagger to Gabriel in his chair. He replaced his hands to his knees.

"Now can we talk? This is kind of a big job I have here." Mary eyed him warily and shifted her feet. Great. First a dagger, now she wants to go hands and feet? "Right." Gabriel stood, making an effort to be as slow and unassuming as possible so as not to give her a negative impression of his intention. He dusted away imaginary dirt from his robes. "I have to say, I was expecting you to be afraid, and I had this whole speech ready to tell you not t-"

"Who are you?" Mary repeated, more firmly.

"Me?" Gabriel's grin turned cocky. He spread his arms and allowed the shadow of his wings to appear. "I am Gabriel, angel of the Lord." He expanded his wings for emphasis, or rather he tried, but the room was too small, cramped, and he couldn't stretch out. He looked to either side of himself with a grimace then turned back to Mary with a shrug. "You get the idea." The shadow winked away, and Gabriel dropped his arms.

"What does the Lord want with me?" Mary asked tentatively.

"Oh! You good, God-fearing followers!" Gabriel extended a fist toward her, thumb pressing against the side of his first knuckle in a pantomime of pinching her cheek. "I can't tell you how refreshing it is to work with believers! Come sit with me." He suited his own words by putting the chair back at the wooden table, taking his place in it, and motioning to Mary to occupy one of the others. He ignored the dagger between them, but Mary very unsubtly kept her eyes on it for a few seconds as she lowered herself into her chair. Gabriel thought for a moment that she might take it up again.

"You know God likes you, right? You're kind of one of His favorites." Gabriel saw the barest hint of a blush under her sun-darkened cheeks. "Uh-huh! I bet He's your favorite God too, amirite?"

A look of confusion began to spread across her face, and Gabriel hurried on, hoping the thought hadn't planted too deeply. Shit, these people are monotheists. Don't mention other Gods.

"He has a plan for you, Mary," he continued. "You're going to be with child." He hated that phrase, particularly so when speaking to someone who was still a child herself. "A boy child. What do you think of the name Jesus? 'Cause that's what God picked out for him."

Though the table blocked part of her motion, Gabriel saw Mary's hand press to her womb. "I... that can't be. I'm betrothed to Joseph, but we haven't... not yet..."

"Oh, you're right," Gabriel said, waving her statement away. "Not yet. But it won't be Joe's baby anyway."

Mary snatched the dagger from the table top and lunged over the table at Gabriel. In a blink, he flicked the back of his hand at her, sending her slamming back down into her chair. The blow caused the dagger to fall from her hand to the floor.

"Oh, knock it off, Holy Mother. It won't be mine either. That's not why I'm here." He stood up and backed a few steps away from the table to give her the illusion of personal space, though he still held her feisty ass down in the chair. "Sorry you flattered yourself, but my tastes run to those who have..." His eyes searched her face, dipped to the hem of her robes and back again without really taking in much in between, "been through puberty, for starters." He shook his head. "Look, Mary, I'll speak plainly. You are favored by the Highest, and He will give you a son. The Holy Spirit will be by pretty soon, do what needs to be done, and you get to keep your virginity until after you deliver this baby. Simple enough for you?"

Gabriel pursed his lips together as he realized the annoyance that laced his voice by the end of his statement. It didn't help his mood that the little prat had assumed he was there to deflower her. His expression softened as he mulled over his thoughts. It was both admirable and worrisome that she was willing to attack with a blade when she perceived her virtue to be threatened. Unfortunately for her, these were days made for men, not women. And for better or worse, she was in for a rough time if she ever fought back.

Mary, meanwhile, had thinking lines painted across her face as well. Gabriel lifted a finger to release her invisible bonds. She shifted to test her freedom then eased back in her chair to regard the angel before her.

"God's child?"

Gabriel nodded, finding a shadow of his smile again. "God's child. Sort of like what he did for your friend Elizabeth. You know, the older broad down the road?" He thumbed sideways in a vague direction, not even sure if it was the right way. "Granted, Lizzie's baby is Zechariah's, but God had a hand in helping them."

"And what of Joseph?"

"Ah, yeah... about that," Gabriel gritted his teeth in a mock grimace, briefly tightening the chords of his neck. "He's not going to be too happy about it at first. And we all know what the penalty is around here for adultery."

Mary's eyes widened in fear. Yes, she knew.

"But don't worry!" Gabriel's grin was back. "Joe won't let that happen to you. In fact, when he starts thinking that divorce is a good idea, we'll send one of our people to have a chat with him. You'll be fine." He returned to his chair and leaned an arm against the table to give Mary the full weight of his gaze. "Mary, listen to me. This child -this son of God- is destined to sit on the throne of King David, as will be his right by lineage. He will rule over all of Jerusalem. And God has chosen you to carry him." He leaned back, letting her digest the enormity of what he had said.

Mary seemed to be staring inwardly as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, lost in thought. Finally she blinked and focused on Gabriel, a fierce, determined look in her eyes. Oh yes, she was a good choice, Dad.

"I'll do it. I'll carry God's child."

Gabriel slapped the table with a sharp laugh as he stood. "Of course you will, dear girl! There was never really much of a choice in the matter!" And in a rustle of wings, he was gone.