undergrounds | Bríd Bríd, come in; thy bed is ready

Thig an nathair as an toll

Seven Sisters, Imbolc

The shop itself has been closed for the day. Still, invitations have gone out to everyone in the supernatural community but especially to the covens of both Circle Midnight and Circle Daybreak. Imbolc is a time for new beginnings, and Abigail Widdowson intends to make it one worth remembering.

(Headers for Imbolc here.)

Là donn Brìde,

Geap Manor, all February

Abigail Widdowson is now the Maiden of Witches.

It is a role, she is well aware, many would not see go to a Circle Midnight witch, especially not a Widdowson. But just as Sylvia is supposed to represent both Circles as the Mother, so is she as the Maiden.

So, letters have been sent.

Letters of welcome to every witch she knows of and every coven she's aware of. They demand nothing; there is no expectation of tribute or the like. Though she's sure that's happened in the past. Instead, it is a letter of invitation to call upon her at Geap Manor.

To meet her.

Ged robh trì troighean dhen t-sneachd

Westminster, mid February

"I placed my order ten minutes ago!"

It's a small inconvenience, really, and Abigail knows it, but it's just one of the many, many things that have been going wrong lately. Especially since she just got blown off for a meeting because 'an urget matter' had 'come up.'

But it's to be expected. Even with her new title, of course the Night Council really doesn't want to see her. They probably know what she's planning. What little idea has seized in the back of her mind. The less attention they pay to her, the harder it'll be, they know. But, well. She knows that the only way to get attention when someone is trying to ignore you is to get louder.

Right now, though, she's trying very, very hard not to take it out on the barista.

"Okay. Again. All I want is a hot chocolate. Shot of espresso. Shot of vanilla. Whipped cream. Please."

She even hands over her card again. Because if she has to pay twice? That's just fine.

Air leac an làir.

Enfield, late February

"Who's there?"

She can't avoid going outside, even after dark. As much as Abigail would like to just shut herself up in Geap Manor forever given everything happening, it's just not plausible. But her recent status of Maiden has made her a little more paranoid when out of the house.

Before, it was just the universe out to get her.

Now? She has actual enemies. Even if she's determined not to let them make her change her life. She hasn't forgotten that vampire Sylvia set on her. Sure, it had been in a controlled environment and just meant to scare her, but... It had done its job. And she didn't know how many more there were.

She needs to get silver, no matter what Unthank thinks about that. A small witch's amulet isn't much to really protect her, and she knows it.

All she has for protection is the phone in her pocket, and there's not much 999 can do about the supernatural.

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"I had one all written, actually," Abby admits with a sigh. "Protection for myself until I had an heir and they turned eighteen. So I could see them grow up at least that long."

It wasn't something she talked about often, but the thought came nonetheless now.

"My dad didn't specify. Not well. So his deal... I was only thirteen, but it was considered fulfilled. Dad, Mom, and baby brother headed for a concert. All in the car. And I was home sick with the flu."

Nancy swears low under her breath and moves in a bit closer to Abby.

"Shit." That's what they did, though. They found ways around everything, the fae. You have to make sure it's air-tight and then some. "I'm so sorry. I had- I had no idea." The poor girl. Comparatively, Nancy had had it easy, never knowing her mother.

What do you say to that?

No. She knew what to say to that.

But she couldn't. It wasn't the time, and she hated the pity she was sure to get from telling Abby her tragic origin story.

"You'll get it right. Get it air-tight, I know you will." She'd help.

Taking a long sip, Nancy puts her glass down again. "Seems fae like to run both of our lives."

"The fae I negotiated with just..." Abby shrugged her shoulders. "He never came to finalise the deal. So I'm back to not having that deal. Not having the protection."

Which meant every day was a risk. Every little possible accident.

"Ever notice how things happen a lot around me? Reckless drivers, mean dogs... Things like that? Curse trying to do its job."

"Oh." Shit, this just kept getting worse and worse, didn't it? "We've got to get him back." There had to be something they could do. She wasn't going to summon a fae, god knew, but all the same. She couldn't lose Abigail to a stupid curse.

She considers this for a few moments, then nods. "I... Wow. I never considered that." She needed to probably not spend time around trouble-magnet Nancy over here. "Could you make another deal? With another fae? I know that things got.... messed up the last time we met with him, but Eames is a good man." She'd never, ever offer the chance to talk with Fagin. Ever.

"He offered to 'give' us a territory at the same time the fae were taking another." Abby's voice has a little more bite than she means for it to, and she shakes her head. "I just... I don't trust him."

So far as she was concerned, they'd been used as a distraction to keep Daybreak busy, and that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"I'll be okay. I promise."

"They gave it to us. It was Daybreak that made it impossible for us to get Croydon. That wasn't supposed to happen." She presses her lips together. "But I get it. I- I trust him with me. He's- I'm under his protection." Not Fagin's anymore. It was only a matter of time, however, before Fagin found that out. Then she was screwed. "I don't want you to hate him."

She looks at her with furrowed brow. "I'll do anything I can to help you. I hope you know that." Nancy would do anything for any of her friends. Kenzi still continuing to be on this earth was proof of that.

"I don't hate him. I promise. I just don't trust him."

Because of a bit of hurt pride, yes, but there were other reasons. Plenty of them. All about that 'gift.' Unsettling, all of it. And she shakes her head just a little.

"I wouldn't trust anyone who put conditions on a gift. But I don't hate him."

Phew. That made things easier.

"Alright. I understand that. I just want you to know- only seems right." Meanwhile she still hadn't told Abby that she was a prostitute, a blood worker, anything of the sort. It hadn't been necessary. So she'd never given her that information. Besides, a girl like Abigail would hate a girl like Nancy, if she knew what she really was.

Kenzi at least, had morals, where Nancy had none.

"Thank you." She picks up her glass again. "So. To termless deals and long lifelines?" It sounded nice, at least.

"And," Abigail adds, raising her glass, "good friends."

She takes a drink. Even if she and Nancy haven't always been close, she's a good friend. Anyone who would make a promise in blood and stand with her through all of this, even in the shadows? She couldn't ask for better. Because it made sure she wasn't alone. That she had a thought of who and what she was fighting for.

"And good friends," Nancy echoes and takes a long drink. Swallowing, she leans back. Tonight is a night for not caring. For simply relaxing with a friend.

"Can we say fuck politics tonight and just, I don't know? Relax? Because you need it." Truthfully, so did Nancy, but she wasn't the one in need here.

Abigail laughs a little and gives a nod.

"Fuck politics," she agrees, raising her glass again and taking another drink.

"So," Nancy says, having another drink as she moves to open the pizza box with one chipped-manicured hand.

"What do you like to do for fun? Let's see if we can manage it tonight." But she wasn't going out. Sorry.

"I love old movies." But with the power being finicky, that wasn't likely to happen. "Spent a lot of years going through the library. Lots of good books. And a lot of bad ones."

But she was pretty sure that most of what she considered 'fun' was probably pretty boring to someone who hadn't spent their life confined to this house.

"Old movies- I'll remember that." She makes a mental note. "And reading, alright." Sounded pretty standard. But yeah, a bit boring.

Then again, her exciting life was not the sort of exciting life that she figured anyone sane would want.

Bríd Bríd, come in; thy bed is ready

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