BAD GRACE - quantum witch © 2005

see Prologue for warnings, rating, and summary

In which many characters enjoy a lovely Boxing Day together, and Anathema and Newt get a wonderful gift.

3:03 – BLESSINGS IN DISGUISE

FISH, IT HAD BEEN LOTS OF FISH. And bread, any sort. And grapes, though she really wanted wine but wouldn't allow it. Those were the things Anathema began to crave the past month. She liked wine and bread just fine. But she was vegetarian so the fish had troubled her sensibilities. Until Newt, dear thing, had pointed out most of her books said pregnant women often craved things they normally didn't eat. And some had gone for far odder things, such as paper, grass and even dirt. So fish was a small issue.

She was also somewhat concerned that she hadn't felt the baby move at all. But that, too, was supposedly normal until about the fourth or fifth month. It was simply hard to be patient. She could definitely sense its presence, but hadn't yet been acknowledged with movement.

At least today would likely take her mind off things. The very loosely-laid plan was to have some of the children and possibly a few adults come by later in the afternoon after they'd finished their own family gatherings. Adam had already expressed his determination to make it, and would do his best to drag at least one friend along. And Martha had promised at least a short visit to bring a gift she'd been working on.

Newt was nervous, though that was sort of a default state anyway. He'd been even more nervous, almost to the point of fainting, last week when they had gone to see his family º. But Anathema insisted that if he'd lived through that, which surely wasn't as bad as Armageddon, then he could live through a few hours of dealing with visitors.

Anathema had been cooking for two days, and for once she wasn't obsessing over how natural it was, thanks to her cravings and to the fact she'd finally begun to understand that normal children not raised on her type of food really didn't like her type of food.

Yesterday she'd cooked a turkey not made of tofu, stuffed with ordinary stuffing made of store-bought bread. The veggies were organic, however, as were the herbs she added from her own pots, but she found herself also seasoning some of them with bits of bacon. They'd eaten about half of everything, and the rest had been reconstituted into an enormous casserole to share with guests. And today she'd made a pie with white flour, white sugar, and non-organic fruit.

She felt slightly guilty, but also felt her mouth watering. She would live with it for now. Oh, she couldn't wait until the baby was born so she could return to her version of normal, and was bound and determined to raise the baby on the same foods. Newt secretly dreaded this, but not enough to protest and he certainly wasn't going to let the current fare go to waste.

In the meantime, he was still fretting over their expected guests. He was used to the kids, and Martha, and even if anyone else from the neighbourhood were to drop by he would be fine and dandy. It was the other one he was nervous about.

"Maybe he won't show up," Newt said hopefully as Anathema did the last bits of tidying up around the house. "I mean, it's Christmastime and he's sure to be very busy, being… what he is…"

"Oh, stop worrying. He may be a bit unusual, but he was very nice. And besides, he said we were his duty, so I see no reason to prevent his coming."

"Anathema," Newt said reasonably, as though he was merely quoting the newspaper's daily weather report, "the man has a twenty-foot wingspan. What if he were to, say, get drunk and open them in here, in front of guests?"

She stopped organising and looked at him oddly. "Newt, darling, he's not exactly one's Uncle Albert who has too much sherry and offers to show everyone the duck in his pants. He's an angel." She returned to fluffing pillows on the sofa with a huge grin on her face. "Firstly, his wings barely fit into his bookshop, and that was un-spread. Secondly, I doubt he'd be so utterly exhibitionistic. And thirdly, I doubt an angel would drink alcohol. That's rather a silly thought, isn't it?"

At least she was two-thirds correct.

There came a knock at the door, and Newt opened it to greet Adam, Martha and Pepper.

"Hi, Newt," Martha said effusively, "only brought Pep this time, Sally's down with the sniffles and stayed home with Charles. Thought it was best, not exposing Anathema."

"Oh, thanks for the thought. Sorry she's unwell."

"She'll be fine. Mm, that all smells so good, Anathema!" Martha had already moved across the room to help, as her friend was beginning to set things onto a table and lay out flatware.

Pepper was grinning too, and said hi to Newt, handing him two boxes. "Those're for you both. One's from me."

"Oh, well thank you. I'm, er, afraid that we didn't have gifts prepared for everyone. Things are a bit short for us yet, and –"

"Yeah, whatever," Pepper said, shrugging. "'S your house, so it's your gifts." She moved past and went to check out the goodies.

Adam was smiling at the entire scene, approving of its happy domesticity. "Besides," he seemed to continue Pepper's thought as if he'd spoken himself, "you guys're openin' your house and sharin' food. That's like your gift to us."

Newt blinked. He hadn't thought of it that way, but it did seem a reasonable idea. Adam frequently surprised one with his pithiness.

Adam handed Newt yet another package from himself. "I left Dog home, 'cause he doesn't like walkin' this far in snow and then he'd've dripped all over th' rugs anyway."

Half an hour of pleasantries passed by as everyone enjoyed company and food. Especially the pie, which Pepper and Adam had to admit was better than the sweets normally available at Jasmine Cottage. It seemed that no other guests would arrive, which was just beginning to relieve Newt, when his hopes were dashed.

There came a polite knock at the door, whereupon Newt was greeted by a warmly smiling angel in camelhair coat and tweedy sweater, carrying a pair of packages and (Newt grimaced) a bottle of wine. Behind the angel was a grouchy-looking demon wearing a long black wool overcoat and holding a potted plant. He gave Newt a look which, even behind sunglasses, said that if he were going to be invited inside it was in everyone's best interests that it be very soon because it was cold enough outside to freeze a snake's non-existent tits off. It was a very eloquent look.

Newt stepped aside, mouthing various welcomes, and the two mystical beings entered his home.

"Ah, dear boy," the angel beamed at Newt. "I haven't ever been to a gathering like this and wasn't quite sure what to bring along. The wine," he handed the bottle to Newt, "might be a bit showy for these circumstances, and considering Anathema's condition. But I must say it's one of my favourites and an excellent vintage. You can always keep it for later when she can safely imbibe. And these," he handed Newt the packages, "are for you both. I do hope they suit. Merry Christmas!" His smile was so bright it was a danger to passing planes.

"Er, we, yes, um. Thank you," Newt said, laying the gifts down and taking Aziraphale's coat.

The demon merely grunted, "House plant. Enjoy." He hung up his own coat.

"Ah, yes. Um…"

"Not here for your soul, if that's what you're thinking." It was, just a bit, Crowley could tell. He continued, "For me, that sort of thing went out with the Inquisition. Don't worry, just here with the angel. Can't ever seem to bloody get away from him…" The expression of puzzlement overlapping relief on Newt's face made Crowley relax a little also.

Until he saw who was inside.

The Antichrist was already greeting Aziraphale, who seemed a little surprised but quickly regained composure. The angel nodded and smiled, then moved along to the table and the edibles. Of course.

But Crowley was still riveted to the entryway, so that Newt had to squeeze around him, laden with all the gifts.

How had they not felt the presence of the Antichrist before arriving? Damn, the boy was still using his powers, masking himself from anyone who might be able to notice. That meant he had decided not to be entirely human. And that worried Crowley to his depths. Adam made him think too much of Hell, which then made him start to worry for the first time in months that Hell might not have entirely forgotten him after all.

Adam looked at Crowley with the same sort of piercing regard as he had that fateful Saturday at the airfield, and approached him.

To Crowley's everlasting surprise, he didn't back himself up and run for the hills.

Adam said in a soft enough voice that the others wouldn't hear, "'Glad to see you, ya know. Dunno why you'd think I wouldn't be."

"Er." Crowley felt what was left of his eloquence fleeing madly, as he wished he could.

"And you don't need to worry 'bout them Downstairs looking for you, either. That's all settled for now. Just c'mon in, enjoy yourself, for cryin' out loud." Adam's smile was meant to put the entire world at ease. He turned away and walked back to the table.

Even considering the minor mind-reading, Crowley felt a bit better. Then he saw something in Adam's aura that even the angel seemed to have missed. It was close to the ground and swirling like mist. Latching onto that movement, Crowley followed it upward. And then he grinned. The way that Adam kept darting looks at the red-haired girl at the table and finding someplace else to look when she turned his way, confirmed it. So, the boy was on his way to becoming a man. That was bound to be interesting.

Then again, it might be interesting in the way intricate wiring is interesting until you realise it's attached to a bomb. Raging hormones in a supernatural were clearly dangerous, as he was coming to understand. He backed up and was nearly through the entryway when Aziraphale looked up and called to him.

"Crowley, do come and try this marvelous strawberry-rhubarb pie Mrs. Kirby made! It's literally a slice of heaven."

And that was that. If he couldn't yet have a slice of angel, pie would do for now.

ANATHEMA WAS DELIGHTED BY THE potted plant, which was the most luxurious she'd ever seen. Its only flaw was a tiny brown spot on a single leaf, but she didn't notice at all, merely hung it near a window and praised its loveliness (the plant sighed in relief and relaxed for the first time in its entire life). She said that she loved growing herbs, and spoke longingly of someday adding to their income by selling them, either as home remedies or potpourri, she was flexible.

Pepper and Adam presented them with a pair of colourful blankets. They'd decided kind of together, Pepper explained, because she hadn't known what to get and Adam told her what he was getting and it just seemed easier to get two of the same thing and give it together because there were two people getting the gifts and besides Anathema was having a baby and they'd need to keep it warm too. Adam was surprisingly silent about it all, just ducking his head sideways a bit and nodding. Anathema thanked them both with a knowing smile. Apparently Pepper didn't yet have a clue what was happening.

Aziraphale's gift of an antique book on Lancashire history was greeted with momentary confusion. When he opened it to point out the very small passage mentioning her prophetic ancestor, Anathema nearly squealed aloud. His gift to Newt was a less antique book on computers and how best to handle them when you were rather inept at such things. Newt wasn't sure if he was supposed to be pleased or insulted. He believed it was meant sincerely, so he chose the former.

When it came to Martha's gift, they were all completely stunned. It was a box containing an envelope. She was almost unable to contain herself as they opened it and their expressions were virtually aghast.

"It's the deed to the cottage," she said, "I went over to Mrs. Henderson, who used to clean up here before you married. She didn't own the place of course, and I wasn't ever sure who did because it had been empty for so long. She checked her records and found out that it was owned by a man who had died a few years back. Ownership passed to his daughter, a Mary Hodges. I found her up at Tadfield Manor, that businessman's retreat thing –"

Crowley all but choked on the tea he was drinking, and Aziraphale patted him on the back. They looked at one another, knowing it could not possibly be coincidence.

"She didn't even realise she owned it, but I asked about her selling it anyway. Brought her around when you two were out and she went on and on and – oh my God – on and on about it. How lovely it was but what a fixer-upper and she couldn't believe it had slipped by her notice and what could she do to improve matters, ad infinitum. I began to fear she'd never give in, let alone give me a word in edgewise. So she went around back on her own – I was glad to let her – and when she came back to the front she was more than happy to sell it to me."

Here, Adam gave a small smile that went unnoticed by everyone but a pair of silently awed supernatural entities.

Neither Anathema or Newt could speak for several moments. Then Anathema gasped, "You can't – you can't possibly – the cost – we – I –"

"Dear, it was worth it to see that face!" Martha laughed. "And it didn't cost me anything, really. She didn't have a need for it, but thought you seemed like a deserving pair, so she sold it for the amount of a month's rent. I kid you not. It's still in my name, but I'm just about to sign it over to you this minute, and you can pay me back when you're able, no rush at all."

She pulled out a pen, scribbled her name on a line and asked Aziraphale to witness, which he did with a beatific expression, and then passed it over to the Pulsifer-Devices, who signed with shaky hands.

Anathema then immediately burst into tears and Newt simply sat there babbling incoherent gratitude. This seemed to be the signal for everyone to leave and they all gathered up their coats and hugged and kissed the couple at the door, promising to come by again soon.

The angel and the demon stood by the Bentley for a moment or two, and watched Adam come out the door. He smiled and shrugged as he went through the gates.

"Oh, he really has become quite a dear, hasn't he?" Aziraphale sighed. "He's not at all what anyone expected at all."

"Nope, just winning the world over one town at a time," Crowley mumbled as they got into his car.

When they'd gotten about a mile from the cottage, Crowley waited until Aziraphale was looking elsewhere while still going on about Adam, and the demon made a complex gesture with his hand. If Aziraphale was impressed by Adam's second gift, maybe he'd also be a bit pleased with Crowley's and find it in his heart to open up a bit more.

Back at the cottage, they would soon enough be surprised to find that a greenhouse had been added onto the back, fully stocked with everything a professional herbalist could possibly want.

But the best gift came later that evening, when the parents-to-be both felt the baby move for the very first time.

º His mother Edna had been gracious and warm, but obviously sizing up his wife and finding her ever-so-slightly wanting. Of course mothers always did that over their sons. His father, being the jovial type, had welcomed Anathema with open arms and asked about her interesting name, and told her the big family joke about having named Newton because his own name was Isaac, and how it turned out to be even more ironic since Newt aspired to be a sort of scientist, even though that had gone bust. Newt merely sighed at the old chestnut. Thinking on it, he did rather regret having given up computers as a hobby. He had discovered through his job, however, that his cursed touch had miraculously disappeared after the Apocalypse. He was hoping he could convince Anathema to let him start tinkering again, as it was now far less likely that he would cause anything to explode.