The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 103: The Meaning of Family

Chapter 103: The Meaning of Family

The girl leered at Crowley," I could be your daughter," She was met with a stony glare.

"I had a daughter," he growled darkly. "Her name was Jinny. She died a long time ago."

The girl screwed her up her face in mock sympathy," It wasn't from natural causes, which makes it so much worse. Wars do that. But we don't have to war. We could be a family."

He turned away, then back to her. "You're not Jinny. You're not of me."

"So sure? That's why you keep coming, after all. You want the truth about our connection. Why, for example, I could touch you the other day."

Crowley shifted in his seat, and waited.

"You keep asking about where I come from, I keep telling you I'm yours. One way or another, I am. Take it or leave it for what it's worth, or give me my things, and you'll never see me again."

"Of me? How are you of me?"

"Have to be, wouldn't I? If I could touch you thru the ward. It's your invitations. They break the spell."

"Liar."

"It can't work on your own flesh and blood."

"I will never claim you."

"But is that why I snagged you? Was there some part of you pleading for it?"

"Whatever happened, it won't happen again. We've made sure of it," he fibbed. She shrugged.

"We'll see. Maybe that yearning to have and hold your little one will prevail, and then I take your hand up and out of this mirror world forever."

"I don't need your definition of family."

Then he started to wonder, wait, but does she?

Does she long for family? Woll, that's something new. "I have all the family I ever need with a frumpy fussbudget, and you said yourself, we have a power together not even Heaven or Hell can match. And I find it increasingly odd that knowing that, you want to force us apart."

"He's in the way. You know, I could hurt him, your pet angel. That medallion doesn't stop me from sending him terrible nightmares that put him under my sway."

"It does," he hissed. "If he has them they are of his own design, and knowing that gives him the strength to combat them."

"I could find a way to take your medallion. Sooner or later, I will overcome it."

"You won't," Crowley persisted. "I'll absorb it into my own skin if I have to. I'll bury deep in my chest, so close to my heart that no one can reach it. Right there along with my other treasure."

"I could cut it out."

"You can't touch me, and you will never touch him!"

Crowley slammed his hands on the table and drew up, leaning into her mocking grin. "You can't touch us. Wanna try it again? Go ahead, take it, try." He held it out, "I can't even give it away if I wanted to. So go ahead and try to manipulate me, little fake anti-christ, little false daughter. I eat toads like you for breakfast!"

***

Newt raised his head from his research, and looked up at the angel studiously puttering along. Never in his life, it suddenly dawned on him, had he ever had such an excellent study partner.

Shadwell left most of the cutting and scouring of information to him. And he hated pecking at the library computer when the young man begged for help. Tracy aided when she could, but neither had a knack for it. Anathema tried, but had her own work to do.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, seemed to be constructed for this sort of thing.

Clever they called the angel. Clever to a fault.

They had bounced ideas off each other for an hour, and lead upon lead emerged. They were getting excited, fueled by nerves and too much coffee. And, Newt nodded a little proudly, he alone had kept the angel's mind off of whatever terrible risk the demon may be facing on his side of things. Newt was ecstatic he had not put forth any awkward questions to the angel. It was so easy when they faced a common goal!

Still, he still had one burning inquiry. It wouldn't be too thoughtless to ask, would it?

Edging on 4am, the young man yawn and thought out loud," What pub is going to be open this late? Legally even?" That wasn't the question.

The angel looked up, marking his place, and took off his glasses. For a moment he closed his eyes, and the medallion shimmered red, then doused its own light. "It appears he frequents that particular pub, and others of its ilk. Holds all the right advantages for him to be his sneakiest." His eyes came open, unfocused. "He's been stopping time."

"You feel all that now?' Newt asked nervously. "It won't make you shift; I hope?"

"I don't think so. I'm just aware of it, presently."

"Ah." Newt cleared his throat and leaned in, taking his chance. "If you don't think it too presumptuous of me, I have a question about the bookshop. You know, I get curious," his face scrunched up, "when something as large as that just decides it's going to defy the laws of physics."

Aziraphale blinked and wearily smiled at him. "Oh, rather. Can be a bit silly sometimes."

"One thing I'm not clear on. It's been nagging me since I saw it in the town square. How does that work? Flitting about wherever you want? Why not use it all the time? Why drive anywhere?"

The angel chuckled and folded his readers, tapping them to his chin. "Dear boy, even if it worked that way, Crowley still needs to drive the Bentley, or he'd drive me up the wall!"

"So, it doesn't always listen to you?"

"It works when it feels like it. And mostly listens to me alone. It is my bookshop."

"You mean it's like a dog who favors one person?"

"Vaguely."

"Doesn't always want to listen?"

"Head strong? I really ask it. It doesn't exactly have awareness. It just...works when the mood strikes. Every so often it listens to Crowley, like earlier. But I can't just make it come and go on a whim, especially not when it first arrives. It likes to settle in for a while, or it gets fussy."

Newt gulped. "What happens when a building gets fussy?"

Aziraphale returned his spectacles to his face. "Well, for one, it opens its door to any riff-raff off the streets."

Newt just looked at him. "Those are called customers," he explained.

"And then it reindexes and reshuffles everything so you can't find anything they ask about! Can't get rid of the irksome dolts after that. Truly, it goes beyond bothersome."