The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 46: No One Puts Crowley in a Corner

Chapter 46: No One Puts Crowley in a Corner

Nature had blessed them all with a sunny cloudless day. The bright beauty of autumn's peak glowed through the yellows, oranges, purples, reds of the leaves, decorating the rolling landscapes. Farmers went about the business of harvesting and herding and sheering and whatever else farmers do. Hay and harmony drifted in wonderful smells on the winds. It was so pleasant few notice that those winds were changing direction.

Long into the afternoon, and into the late evening, from the wood line of a pasture on the edge of Tadfield, two figures had been hidden from prying eyes, entangled in vigorous and joyous activity. Around 8ish, they emerged rumpled, sweating profusely, leaning against one another.

When they made it up the trail, they were laughing. When they made it to the Bentley, they were talking, and touching. When they at last got into the car, they settled in and looked at one another.

And shortly before they left, they kissed. It was the longest kiss so far.

And like the gentle smells on the wind, their lack of attention deemphasized the strangeness of the changing breezes, and the dark, red-rimmed clouds waiting in mass to roll on its traveling currents.

Newt was rapping his fingers on the window sill, staring out down the road.

"And exactly how long do we have to wait?"

Anathema's nose was deep in a book, a pencil stuck in her mouth. Without looking up, she pointed to Shadwell and Tracy lingering in the living room, still obviously courting in that gentle way that people do when they've known each other for years, and are just now really getting to know each other.

Newt paced over to the edge of the room, and leaned in, watching. Shadwell kissed Tracy's hand and murmured something that made them both chuckle. Newt made a face.

"We had meetings," he complained. Anathema sighed heavily and rose her head, irritated. She spat the pencil out, and let it clatter to the table.

"You have drunk Marines to sing with. Trust me, they're Marines. They'll still be there when you arrive."

"I finally had a job lead, you know," Newt continued mournfully. "Garry says he knows someone in the FBI! They could possibly headhunt me for a white hat position."

His head turned when he heard laughter behind him. He gave his wife a hurt look, and she quickly uncovered her smile and cleared her throat.

"A hacker?"

"Well...sorta."

Anathema considered this seriously, and nodded her head, which made Newt straighten. "I see. Blow things up from the other end. Or both ends."

"Worth a shot. Never know."

Her encouraging smile warmed him, and Newt returned it, before shaking himself and reiterating, "Anyway, why is Shadwell waiting?"

The little witch sighed heavily. "Because," she nearly growled, speaking as if to a child, "Tracy convinced him to wait for Crowley. She thinks a night out might do him good."

"Is that wise? With all that's going on?"

"Stay near ground zero."

"Yes, but it's Shadwell. Sometimes he likes to pub crawl along the outskirts."

"Put your foot down."