Chapter 3 - Celebration

"What kind of person has a birthday on Christmas Eve?" Dean groused good-naturedly.

"A very considerate person," Quinn retorted. "All my life, people have given me combined Christmas and birthday presents. So I'm actually a lot lower-maintenance than all of those pesky girls who have their birthdays on non-special occasions."

"Hey!" Nicole said, pretending to take offense. She was standing at the kitchen counter, icing Quinn's birthday cake. "We can't help when we were born."

"True dat," Paul said, breezing past her. He scooped a finger into the icing bowl on his way by, tasting a dollop of the sweet chocolate frosting.

"Hey!" Nicole said again, swatting at him. "Keep your mitts to yourself!"

"That's what I said to him, last night!" Kevin joked, and everyone laughed.

Sam came downstairs then, and he moved immediately to the table to give Quinn a hug and a kiss. "Robbie's down for his nap," he told her.

"Thanks, honey," Quinn said, smiling. "Would you like a coffee?"

"It's OK; I'll get it," Sam said affably. "It's your birthday. You shouldn't have to do anything, today."

Quinn was still smiling. Sam was so considerate. It was just as well, too. The baby was kicking up a storm. She put her hand on her stomach. She hoped it was a girl, this time. A sister for Baby Robbie. At least the siblings would be close in age. This particular pregnancy had been a happy accident, though. They hadn't even really talked about having another baby, but...well, these things just happened, sometimes. Dean had been making jokes about her giving birth to another Jesus, since it was so close to Christmas. Actually, he probably wasn't that far off, regarding the date, at least. Quinn had been feeling more and more like the baby's arrival was imminent. She hoped it wouldn't be tomorrow, though. It was bad enough that her own birthday was on Christmas Eve. Plus, she had a huge turkey in the fridge for tomorrow.

"Is your mom coming for dinner tomorrow?" Quinn asked Kevin.

"Yeah, she'll be here," her neighbour confirmed. He looked at his watch. "In fact, Paul and I had better get to the airport."

"I can't wait to ask Linda about her latest project," Sam said, taking a mug out of the cupboard. "They said in the paper she's doing an homage to Impressionalism."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I just wanna know how much she sold her paintings for."

Nicole came to the table to sit beside her husband. She smiled at Dean. "Why? Are you thinking of hitting her up for a loan?"

Dean took Nicole's hand, flashing her a grin. "No, but it doesn't hurt to have a rich friend," he said to his wife. "You never know."

Nicole was curious. "You never know... what?" she asked him, but before he could give her an answer, Quinn's water broke. "It's Jesus time!" she exclaimed, and Sam sprung into action.

God had set it up this way for obvious reasons. Like Frank and Gail, the Winchester siblings deserved a chance to experience nice, normal lives. Quinn really hadn't deserved her fate at Becky's hands, and Sam had always wanted a wife and kids. Decent ones, that was, not the abomination that Becky and Vincent had created, which was currently being passed off as Sam's son. That had been just a little harsh on God's part, too. But, He stood by it. However, in this reality, both of Sam's children were going to be happy and well-adjusted. Robbie, aka Rob, was getting his do-over too, and so was little Agnes, who had just announced her impending arrival at her parents' kitchen table. Dean and Nicole had gotten married a few months prior, and Dean's business had been doing very well, despite his jokes about needing rich friends. Dean had been contemplating asking Nicole if she might want to consider having a kid or two. Or maybe they should do some travelling, first. Once you had kids, you were pretty much doing THAT full-time. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but Dean also kind of wanted to take a road trip. It had been way too long.

Linda had always wanted to be a successful artist, so she was one. She travelled extensively, having gallery openings all over the world to show her pieces of art. And, since Linda was now single, God had brought Kevin and Paul together, just to see. They were closer in age, and the Father had been curious to see what would happen if the two young men were to explore a relationship. So He had brought them together in a domestic situation and made them Sam and Quinn's neighbours, here in the suburbs. Dean and Nicole has an apartment in the city, as did Linda. When the artist was home, that was.

Leaving the group to organize their trips to the hospital and the airport, God turned his attention to another area, to see how one of His other do-overs was doing.

Jody was pouring champagne in small plastic cups for all the men and women in the station house, celebrating another successful year. "Here's to continuing our one-hundred-percent solve rate into the New Year," the Sheriff said to the officers. She raised her glass. "Not only that, but our violent crime ratio is the lowest I've ever seen."

"That's because everybody in town is intimidated by us," Efram wisecracked, and Riley laughed. "Us?" his friend and patrol partner echoed. "Yeah, right."

Jody smiled. "Hey, whatever works," she said affably. "Anyway, this is just my way of saying thank you." She took a sip of her champagne. "Thanks for all your hard work. Now, drink up, and then get out of here. I'm sure you all have families to go home to."

"Shouldn't some of us stay on duty?" Riley said uncertainly.

Jody waved him off. "Nahhh. It's Christmas Eve. Peace on earth, and all that. Besides, I'll be here, just in case."

"You will?" Efram said, frowning.

"Yeah," Jody replied. "And don't look at me like that. I just have some paperwork I want to finish up." Yeah. Sure. Paperwork. That was it. That was Jody's story, and she was sticking to it. But there was no way she was going to make any of her staff work on Christmas. Better her than them. She had a frozen turkey entree all ready to go at home, and Dammit the cat had a can of Fancy Feast to look forward to. The cops Jody hung out with had all razzed her about becoming a Crazy Cat Lady, but Jody was glad to have the companionship. The cat had come scratching at her door a few weeks back, and Jody had taken it in and fed it. It'd had no collar and there hadn't been any reports of a missing pet, so she had kept it. When word got around the station house, the guys - and girls - had asked the Sheriff what name she had bestowed upon the cat, and she had looked at them blankly for a moment. Oh. Right. Name. So she'd had that in the back of her mind when dinnertime came. Jody had put the cat's dish on the floor, and then she had sat down to a nice meal of salmon, rice, and vegetables. She'd even poured herself a glass of wine. Then she'd realized that the remote for the TV was still on the coffee table in the living room. And, naturally, once she had turned her back on the small dining table in the corner of the living area, the cat had been on the table, whiskered face deep in the salmon. "Dammit!" Jody had exclaimed. She shooed the cat off the table, but it was too late. So then Jody did the only thing she could do, reasonably speaking: she put the plate on the floor, letting the cat have at it. Then she picked up her wine glass, went into the kitchen, nuked a bowl of popcorn, and watched a movie. That damn cat had grazed its way through her entire dinner, including the vegetables, and then it had jumped on the couch next to her, upending the bowl of popcorn all over the floor.

"Dammit!" Jody had exclaimed again. And thus, the cat's name was born.

Well, it would be just Jody and Dammit again tonight. A brand new year was almost upon them, but absolutely nothing in Jody's life had changed. She guessed it was an all-right life, as lives went. And it certainly beat the alternative. But every once in a while, an occasion like Christmas would come along, reminding the Sheriff how lonely she truly was.

As the cops started to file out of the station house, Jody checked her computer. Nothing much to look at, really. A few "Season's Greetings" e-mails from City Hall; that was about it. It was kind of sad how everybody was afraid to say "Merry Christmas" any more. Like the words themselves were offensive. She didn't care whether you celebrated or not; if people were wishing you well, they weren't robbing or shooting you. That was a win-win, in Jody's book, whether you were religious or not.

Jody sighed, shutting the computer off. She might as well go home. Dammit would probably be surprised to see her this early. Ahh, who was she kidding? He would probably be curled up on the couch, sleeping. She should've gotten a damn dog, instead. Maybe she would get one in the New Year, and call him "To Hell". Then, when she called both pets, she could be cursing, at the same time. Leave it to a woman in charge to think up another way to multi-task, Jody thought with humour.

She locked up the station house and went home.

Gail had been pretty happy with her Christmas haul this year: books, books, and more books. A few clothes, some CDs, and a set of pens with feathers on the end of them and a hard-cover book with lined pages, stamped "My Journal" on the cover. She had requested the latter, saying she wanted to record her thoughts and dreams. The pens had fascinated her. They reminded her of the kind of pens they'd used in the Olden days. Quill pens; that was it. The kinds of pens they might have used back in the days of King Arthur. She would have to do some research on that. Maybe she would write a story about Camelot. Despite her best efforts, Gail had been unable to get her fanciful vision of Sir Castiel out of her mind.

Gail pointed at her brother. "You'd better not go snooping in my journal," she warned Frank.

Before Frank could come up with a suitable retort, Jim smiled and said, "I don't think that will be a problem." He plucked a white envelope from the tree branches. "This is from me and your mom. Merry Christmas, Frank."

Frank opened the envelope eagerly, his jaw dropping. "Holy crap!" He looked up at his parents. "Really?"

"What is it?" Gail asked, scrambling over to her brother to look.

Frank showed her. It was a plane ticket to London, England, and a wad of spending money.

"Every young man should see Europe while he's still young," Jim said to his son, clapping Frank on the shoulder. "We'll discuss college when you get back."

Gail looked up at her brother with wide eyes. He was leaving?

Frank saw the expression on his sister's face, and he tried to soften the blow. "Hey, you can make me a list of cool souvenirs to bring you, with those fancy new feather pens of yours," he said to her.

She looked down at her lap. Frank was leaving? Of course he was. He was a man now. He didn't want to hang around with little kids all the time. Oh, boy. Aurielle was going to kill herself. Unless she'd moved on. Right before the Christmas holidays, Gail's friend had told her in strict confidence that she had a crush on a boy in their class. Gail hoped that was true. And as for Gail herself, she would just have to get over it. It's not like Frank would be gone forever. Maybe she would ask him to take some pictures of some castles, and e-mail them to her. She had a story to write.

All in all, God was fairly satisfied with the way that things had been going. A good number of His children were happy, and living in better situations than they had been before. Or even if they weren't happy, He had set them up so that they could be. After all, He couldn't do everything. Frank had wanted to travel, so he was going to get a chance to do just that. He was going to make the acquaintance of a young man named Matty on the plane, and the two of them were going to spend several months backpacking around Europe together. Then, when Frank returned home, the future would be wide open for him. He would find a much more mature younger sister when he returned, though. God had already decided that Gail would be happier and less reclusive if she were older. The next time Frank saw his sister, she would be in her 20s, but no one who knew her would think anything of it. When you were the Almighty, you could get away with that sort of thing.

Not everyone was faring as well in the happiness department. Castiel was an arrogant thug, and Gail and Jody were lonely. Gabriel was a barfly with no real purpose to his existence, and Abigail was getting mixed up with the wrong sort of individuals again.