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[clumsy_auror]

The contractions are regular, now. Regular, and steady, and growing stronger. She keeps giving Bernard feeble smiles, as she paces the floor, trying to stay limber and move around while she still can.

One imagines the kettle will be going fairly constantly for the people ensconced in the living room.

Comments

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard is... well, freaking out isn't quite the right term.

Yes, it is.

He's pacing, too, cracking his knuckles, which he does not do, and biting a nail, which he again does not do.

"How long does it generally take for the water to break?"

[simon_doctor]

"It varies." Simon's voice is very calm. He's scrubbed his hands, and put on sterile gloves, and is standing near the wall giving the general impression of a Man Who Knows What He's Doing.

"By this stage I would guess ... fairly soon."

[platonicowgirl.livejournal.com]

Out in the living room, Kathleen Wrangle knocks back the last of her coffee.

With whiskey in, of course.

It's gonna be a long afternoon, evening, and most likely morning, and she's not entirely sure she wants to be sober for any of it.

[howdy-howdy.livejournal.com]

Dude's trying the tea.

It's pretty good, really.

...For tea.

[a-black-sheep.livejournal.com]

...My daughter's gone into labour, she'd told her lunch appointment, sitting across the table in Florian Fortescue's and blinking curiously at the owl perched on Andromeda's chair.

Excuse me - excuse me, she'd muttered, elbowing her way in a most unladylike fashion through the crowds in the Leaky Cauldron. Excuse me, my daughter's gone into labour.

Quick as you like, she'd told the taxi smartly, on their way to pick up Ted. My grandson's being born.



Andromeda's heel taptaptaps on the floorboards of the Tonks-Wrangle living room, as she sits on the edge of the couch, and smiles nervously at her husband.

[ididntnameher.livejournal.com]

Who is chewing nervously on a cigar.

It'll be no good for smoking by the time he's done with it, but it's not as though he likes the taste. It's just traditional. Traditional like leaving the fretting to the women, and being solid and loud, and making jokes, and he's trying, alright? He'll get to the jokes once he's managed to accept the fact that his baby girl is having a baby boy.

Something about this seems very wrong, to Ted.

And, at the same time, just about the best thing that's ever happened.

He holds on tight to Andromeda's hand, and smiles back, and after this long he doesn't need to - because she knows his expressions, and the fact that he's Definitely Not Worried, and precisely how necessary it is that she doesn't pull her hand away just yet, thanks - he doesn't need to tell her he loves her because it's there.

Even if she is a grandma, near enough.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

Aziraphael hasn't stopped moving.

The kettle has also not stopped boiling, because Aziraphael has certain ideas, regarding child birth, lodged quite firmly in his head. The need for boiled water is prominent; he suspects it could well be for the amounts of calming tea that are necessary.

Besides, wandering back and forth from the kitchen at least means he has an aim, in mind, and isn't pacing. Pacing is Bernard's job. He's just... being useful.

And looking, every now and again, at the watch that he still hasn't got used to around his left wrist, fretting about how long the flight takes from Iraq.

[young_tmriddle]

Tom pokes his head in the kitchen.

Hullo, Aziraphael. Good to see you. Is there tea?

He's not sure why he's whispering. It just seems the thing to do.

[young_tmriddle]

Tom received the owl with the news and dropped everything to hurry up to the flat and wait.

He enters the room nodding his head to the two sets of parents - with whom he'd exchanged pleasantries at the wedding, but never actually spoke to. He dearly hopes Andromeda and Ted don't mind his presence overly much because he's not leaving.

"Hullo."

He looks around the flat. Aziraphael sounds like he's in the kitchen. There's no sign of Crowley.

Temple and Arch, I hope there's tea soon.

Tom stands rather awkwardly in a corner, feeling most out of place, but he's not about to leave. Not when 'Dora might need him. For what, he's not certain (and he doesn't really want to think about the possibilities, actually) but he is here.

[platonicowgirl.livejournal.com]

The young man's uncertainty and awkwardness can be cut with a knife, so, not long after he arrives, Kathleen walks over with a scotch in hand.

"Here, kiddo."

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

Dream is there, too. Waiting. It is possible that he's the least nervous person in the room.

If he counts as being a person.

He left the robes home, though, as nightmares are exactly what no one here needs right now.

[platonicowgirl.livejournal.com]

Lo!

From across the room!

A grandmother eyes him warily!

[river_meimei]

River's in the room. Sometimes. Sometimes she vanishes -- into the hallway, or the snowy outdoors, or more often the bedroom with Simon and Tonks and Bernard.

Often enough she's in here, though. Right now she's leafing through some papers, with a considering frown on her face and one hand twitching through mental calculations.

Closer inspection will prove them to be some of Bernard's bomb designs. And some of Sunny's Art, mixed in. Both get the same critical examination.

[howdy-howdy.livejournal.com]

Dude's been hanging back for a bit. Usually he's pretty social, but-- there's a lot of folks here. Lot of folks he doesn't know.

But this little girl looks pretty nice.

"Hello there. Hello."

[aj_crawley]

It's been a while, now. A good long while.

There's a brief lull in the conversation, in the living room; people look down at the floor, or the drinks in their hands, or distractedly at the many pictures on the walls, trying to keep themselves occupied.

The silence is terse, and just on the edge of anxious, until suddenly it's broken - footsteps, loud, flying down the Staff Wing corridor outside. Wham goes the door to the flat and, wrapped still in coat, scarf, and a large pair of black wings, Crowley skids to a halt in the living room.

He looks windswept, dishevelled, and just a little panicky, and he's holding a crumpled letter in one hand.

Someone come tell him he's on time.

[howdy-howdy.livejournal.com]

Dude blinks at the wings, but offers Crowley a slight grin anyway.

"Woah there, son. Woah there. Catch your breath, ain't nothin' happened yet."

[young_tmriddle]

Tom, gripping his scotch like a growning man, hurries over.

"Thank fuck you're here. I'm bloody out of my depth here."

He looks around nervously and swigs some scotch.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

It's a little while later yet.

Aziraphael had stepped outside for fresh air, for a space to pace in which he wasn't constantly tripping over feet and cigar packets and mugs of tea. He returns, now, cheeks pink from the wind and hair swept in all directions, and very nearly turns on his heel and disappears out of the door again.

The hands in his pockets clench into fists, and the angel stalks determinedly into the kitchen, not looking around the room and most especially not at the sofa.

After a minute or two he emerges with a cup of tea, looking marginally calmer, and casts about for a place to sit.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

The angel comes back out of the bedroom after a short while, frowning slightly, and goes directly over to the sofa.

He doesn't take the time to check on seating arrangements, just collapses into a free space with a sigh, letting his head rest against the back of the sofa.

Slight headache.

[platonicowgirl.livejournal.com]

...And he's next to a slightly tipsy grandmotherly type.

"All right?"

[aj_crawley]

From the angel's frown, the markedly reduced noises of distress from the direction of the bedroom can mean only one thing.

Tentatively, a warm hand insinuates itself under Aziraphael's.

[simon_doctor]

The door between the birthing room and the waiting room opens, and Simon sticks his head out.

For some reason, he looks ... a bit rattled.

"Is, ah ... is there a wizard in the house?"

[young_tmriddle]

Tom blinks. And then raises his hand.

"Yes?"

Then he goes pale. Deathly pale.

"What's the matter?"

[young_tmriddle]

Tom emerges from the birthing room, after assisting Bernard with the accidental hexing.

"Everything's fine. Accidental spell casting, was all." He nods to Andromeda and Ted. "Your daughter's quite good at extra limb hexes. Bernard needed a bit of a reversal and an "Ennervate" charm to, er, help him back on his feet. He's only got two again. He's fine, though. She's fine, too. Just fine."

Except for the whole giving birth thing. He makes a beeline for his scotch.

[mnt_raph]

*Raph is a little preoccupied at the moment, which is why he doesn't think twice about just walking into the Tonks-Wrangle flat without knocking. So you can imagine his surprise when he sees the living room full of people that are not Bernard and Tonks.

Raph looks down at his thermos. He's going to need more MilkyTea.*

Uh...hi.

[platonicowgirl.livejournal.com]

Now well on her way to sloshed, Kathleen blinks rapidly for a few moments, then smiles welcomingly.

"Hi."

[clumsy_auror]

And finally, not long before dawn, there comes a noise from the bedroom.

The distinctive sound of a newborn's cry.

[platonicowgirl.livejournal.com]

Kathleen's head turns, and she gasps, tears springing to her eyes.

Because, oh.