Happy Holidays, srslyarts!
Dec. 10th, 2022 05:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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go_exchangeTitle: A Witch Comes to Button House
Recipient: srslyarts
Rating: G / No Archive Warnings Apply
Pairings: Anathema/Newt, Alison/Mike
Summary: Anathema and Newt are looking for somewhere to get married. Alison and Mike are looking to host weddings at their ancestral home. The house’s many ghosts are just curious about the newcomers, but when they start accusing one of them of witchcraft, they weren’t expecting her to reply! A Good Omens and BBC Ghosts crossover
Thank you so much srslyarts for this prompt! You don’t know how psyched I was when I saw it right after having seen the first three seasons of BBC Ghosts and instantly falling in love with it. Sadly, in the US we don’t have the fourth one yet, so I might be missing some details (don’t worry though, this IS the BBC show and not the American one). I’m only sorry I couldn’t give each of the ghosts more time, but I sure did enjoy writing this :D Wishing you a very happy holiday season!
Note: For Good Omens, I was imagining the book characters and plot, but 1. I realized this would technically be the wrong time period, which I’m conveniently ignoring, and 2. I couldn’t resist including Newt’s three-wheeled car from the TV show, even though ‘the Wasabi’ is a much better name.
Gravel crunched in the driveway leading up to the old Button house. It crunched one wheel’s-worth less than usual.
“I never know where to park in places like this,” Newt said, stopping Dick Turpin. Granted, he rarely found himself in places like this. “I feel like I should be using the servants’ entrance.”
“But we’re not servants,” Anathema said. “This place is being presented for us. We’re guests, but they also want us to like it here enough to book it for our wedding. They’ll be showing off. So, really, it’s almost like we’re the fancy upper-class people it would’ve been built to impress centuries ago."
"Gosh," said Newt, who did not consider himself a 'fancy’ person.
“Gosh,” agreed Anathema, who considered herself a ‘fancy’ person in an entirely different way than the original owners of the house would have ever had in mind for its guests.
The two left the car and made their way to the front of the building.
“Door’s open,” Newt said.
“The owner said they’d have construction workers in and out. That’s probably what all the noise is. They’ll never hear us knocking, should we show ourselves in?”
Newt gave that half-shrug-half-nod that Anathema thought represented his entire character, and which she found so endearing, and they entered the house.
They did have to dodge quite a few construction workers as they navigated the halls.
“You said they film documentaries here?” Newt said. “I bet this place has seen tons of history.”
“Absolutely.” Anathema nodded at two construction workers. Behind them, in the next room, she saw a woman in full violet Victorian garb, twirling around and giggling. “Er. They do films here, too. Historical. Although I’m not sure how accurate—”
“Ah! There you are!”
A much more modern-looking, and, they were both happy to discover, down-to-earth couple greeted them with big smiles.
“You must be Newton and—er—Anathema, wasn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“Great to meet you. I’m Alison, and this is Mike.” She indicated her partner, who gave a wave. “We’re so happy to have you. Sorry again about the construction. I’m glad you’ve agreed to spend the night, you really will be able to see how beautiful the place can be in the morning once they’ve all left. Let me show you to your rooms.”
Downstairs, Kitty stopped her twirling to go and find the other ghosts. She gathered them all in the main hall.
“Another wedding,” Lady Button sniffed. “I suppose this will at least fund the repairs to my ancestors’ home?”
“Time we surveilled the dormitory,” the Captain said, raising his chin. “Made sure everything was in order. Let’s get to it.”
On their way upstairs, the ghosts jumped left and right to avoid being walked through by living humans. It was particularly close when they rounded the corner and nearly collided with a whole crew of construction men. Robin had to flatten himself against a wall to keep away from them. At the same time, the new people, a young woman and man, were being led back downstairs by Alison.
“I’ll just show you how to get to the kitchen for dinner,” Alison was saying. “It can be tricky with so many people wandering about.”
“Do you ever film, er, time-travel movies here?” Anathema asked, looking back at the mixture of construction workers and people dressed in an odd array of fashions. But the ghosts had already moved on, and didn’t hear, and Alison, of course, assumed she was just being conversational.
“Right,” the Captain said. “Let’s see what sort of condition they leave their rooms in.”
Inside the guest room, the Captain was disappointed to find that the newcomers had left an unholy mess.
“Ooh, one of them likes Maltesers,” Pat said, eying the bag with a mixture of approval, eagerness, and jealousy.
“The lady’s style is so mystical,” Thomas said, sweeping a hand past the dresses Anathema had hung up to de-wrinkle. “Though, of course, not so lovely as Alison’s. Clearly she has an eye for the fantastical. Perhaps she is a fellow poet?”
“It’s not proper attire for a lady,” Fanny huffed. “I can reconcile myself with the fact that showing one’s knees has become acceptable in modern society. But to wear lace that does not actually conceal one’s shoulders—”
“Look,” Robin said. He was standing near a jewelry box, which lay open. “Moonah!”
“Lunar symbols,” Pat said. “And stars. And all sorts of things you’d see on tarot cards. I wonder if she’s a Hippie?”
“Perhaps she’s a witch,” Julian drawled.
“Now,” Pat said appeasingly, “I’m sure—”
“A witch!” gasped Mary. The medieval ghost started to gently smoke. “Witches be bringing bad lucks to Alison and Mikes! Oh, dear, oh dear—”
“Julian was only joking, Mary, weren’t you, Jul—”
“Aha! Crystals!” Julian pointed dramatically at where the stones lay arranged on the bedside table. “She’s some sort of mystic.”
“If they be witches,” Mary said, “we needs to tell Alisons. She’s bad, that witch—”
“And they’ve also got sage,” Julian said in disgust. “And herbs. To cleanse the place, I’ll bet. Ruddy hippies.”
“Oh.” Mary calmed down. “Herbs is for rational ladies. She’s prob’ly fine.”
The ghosts continued to look through Anathema and Newt’s things. They didn’t, of course, dishevel any of them, except for once, when Julian was excited to find one of Newt’s magazines. It turned out only to be something about electronics and robot building sets for children. He knocked it to the floor in disappointment.
“Well, I suppose things are all in order,” the Captain said. “Messiness aside, they don’t seem to pose too much of a threat.”
“I bet they’re going to have a lovely wedding,” Kitty said, practically bouncing. “Ooh, I can’t wait. With a pretty white dress—”
“Or a black one,” Julian said, to a gasp from Fanny.
“Oh, stop it, Julian,” Pat said.
“I mean, if she is a witch—”
“There’s nothing witchy about—oh.”
Pat stopped with his mouth open. The other ghosts turned to him. He was staring down at the side table. Julian leaned over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. He grinned.
“This magazine—it was under the robotics one—it does look—”
“Well, what did I say? Hippies.”
“No, I remember this from when I was alive.” Pat looked up at the others, brow pulled together with worry. “Er. It did have a certain connotation of being for—”
“For what?” Thomas said, throwing his hands together. “Good god, man, the anticipation!”
“For—for—” Pat winced. “Er, well, witches.”
Kitty gasped. Fanny jumped, mostly because of Kitty’s dramatic gasp. Thomas put a hand to his heart. Then someone spoke.
“Excuse me. I am a witch, but it’s still very rude to go through someone’s belongings.”
The ghosts turned in unison to the bedroom door, which was standing open, and in the doorway stood a woman.
A living woman.
A living woman speaking to all of them.
Every single ghost screamed, and, in the pandemonium, although she would be embarrassed by it later, Anathema did, too.
In the kitchen, four living beings sat at the table with tea warming their hands. Surrounding the table stood quite a few ghosts.
“Er,” Anathema said, not sure whether it was polite to look at the ghosts while she was speaking about them or not. “Do they sit?”
“Oh. Er. Not really.” Alison tilted her head and squinted. “I—hadn’t really thought of it. I mean, they do in other rooms. Do you guys want me to pull out chairs for you, or—?”
The ghosts murmured a variety of responses that led to absolutely no decision being made.
“So, exactly how many of them are there?” asked Newt, who was still holding the I-beam level he had for some reason grabbed when he’d heard Anathema scream. She gently pried it from his hand and replaced it with his mug of tea.
“In here?” Alison said. “Oh, er, Humphrey’s still wandering around looking for his head, so I suppose in here right now there are eight.”
“Eight?” Newt put down the tea and sat back in his chair. Michael gave him a sympathetic nod. Newt sat up again. “Hold on. Did you say in here?”
“Well,” Alison said. She gave Anathema a worried look. “You may want to avoid going in the basement. Unless you’re a real history buff who doesn’t scare easily?”
It was only out of determination to stay by her soon-to-be-husband to keep him from having a nervous breakdown that Anathema did not immediately dash down to the basement.
“So you can just see them automatically?” Alison said. “You didn’t bump your head or fall out of a window or anything?”
“I have trained in being able to see what’s really there for years,” Anathema said. “My whole life, really. But it’s possible I’m just born able to see ghosts. Witchcraft sort of runs in the family. I’ve seen glimpses here or there. Usually, I only realize that strangely dressed person I saw looking out of a window was a ghost sometime after the fact. I’ve never run across this many.”
“This is so exciting,” Alison said, smiling. “I never thought I’d be able to share how weird this all is with anyone. I never get to talk about them—I mean, I’ve told Mike all about them, of course, but he can’t actually see everyone—I mean, I could have a conversation with the ghosts and another person, and not look like the only crazy one—”
“It’ll get less weird over time,” Mike said quietly to Newt, passing him a scone. “Well, no, it won’t. But you’ll get used to it.”
“Actually, believe it or not, I’ve been through weirder with Anathema.” Newt, nevertheless, looked rather dumbstruck. “But I have to admit, this is a—new kind of weird.”
“I’m just glad I’m not the only guy who has a wife who can speak to ghosts anymore,” Mike said with a grin. “I mean, I know it’s not as weird as being someone who can speak to ghosts. But it’s a bit odd when your partner knows all this stuff and you’re completely in the dark.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So you host dozens of people here for events,” Anathema was saying to Alison. “While ghosts are floating all around them. And they don’t even know? Is that ethical?”
“Usually, they behave. It’s not really like being haunted. Our guests are fine.”
“I meant for the ghosts.”
“Ooh,” Pat said, “I like her!”
“There are certain rooms we keep off-limits to guests,” Alison explained. “We’ve got so much construction going on, even after all this time, that it’s easy to say the Captain’s room just isn’t safe for habitation, or that Lady Button’s room has a minor damp problem.”
Fanny and the Captain sputtered indignantly, and Anathema tried not to laugh. Alison beamed. It was the first time she had someone else to laugh with about them all.
“So, you don’t think it’s too—creepy—er, for a wedding?” Newt said. As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized that, of course, for Anathema there was no such thing.
“It’s really not creepy at all,” Michael said. “The ghosts are, like, really harmless. I know it seems scary—”
“Mike was totally creeped out at first,” Alison said.
“He big scared,” Robin laughed.
“—Er, yeah. Yeah, all right, I was. It seems, like, totally weird and creepy and bizarre, but it’s actually not that bad at all.”
Newt gave a brave little half-smile, and Anathema patted him on the hand.
“We’ll have to talk about it,” she said. “But, overall, this has been—well, pretty exciting for me. I mean, you don’t run across too many witches these days. And I’m not saying that’s what you are, if you don’t want to be, I know people have bad feelings about that word, but just—someone else who knows there’s more out there, who understands it. Even finding that is special.”
Alison smiled. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“I mean, Newt knows there’s more,” Anathema conceded. “He just—”
“Doesn’t quite get it,” Newt said, nodding. “Don’t worry, Anathema, it’s okay. I mean, I don’t get it. Like, at all.”
“And I get that!” Michael said, and the two boys beamed at each other across the table.
“Isn’t this wonderful?” Kitty said, clasping her hands together. “Love and friendship and weddings!”
“Ask her what sort of dress she’ll be wearing,” Fanny said. “If she’s going to be wearing something completely unsuitable—”
“She can hear you, Fanny, you can ask her yourself,” said Alison.
“Oh, right.”
“Alison, I am so happy for you that you have at last found the sisterhood you desire,” Thomas crooned, hand in the air. “It reminds me of one of my oldest poems, ‘Family, O Family—‘”
“Young lady,” the Captain said, “I’d congratulate you on your marriage, but I want to make sure you’ve really thought things through. In this young man’s luggage, I believe I saw fake military emblems—”
“Oh, no, those are real, actually,” Anathema said. “It’s the Witchfinder Army. He used to be a member. Funny story, it’s actually how we met. But, he’s, er, retired now.”
The ghosts gasped. Then they turned, subtly, as though they hadn’t all just gasped, to Mary.
“Are they talking about me?” Newt said, surprised. He turned to a wall and gave a little wave. “Erm, hi!”
The ghosts were still staring at Mary.
“Is that the group who—er—?” Pat said delicately.
“Oh, no,” Mary said, blowing out a disdainful puff of air. “Thems was idiots. Awful, but idiots, nonetheless.”
“A witch and a witchfinder,” Mike said. “What a world, eh?”
“Exactly,” Anathema said with a smile.
“Er—are they still talking about me?”
“No,” Alison said to Newt. “But Robin is looking at you—Robin, don’t you dare!”
“What? What’s he doing?”
“Fine, I no haunt,” Robin said grumpily.
“The only thing that really feels haunted about living with ghosts is if you walk through them,” Alison said. “And trust me, they don’t like that any more than you will, so they’re pretty good at getting out of the way of your guests.”
“I think—” Anathema started eagerly. But then she saw Newt, frowning concernedly in mid-air, a yard away from where Robin was actually standing and laughing at him. “Er. I think we’d better talk about it first.”
“Of course,” Mike said.
“And we don’t want to pressure you,” Alison said. “This situation is—more unique than any other potential weddings we’ve had. But, really. Thanks. Just—for being here. And meeting me.”
Anathema shook her hand, and they all stood to leave the room. The girls let the ghosts leave first, then they did, then Mike, with Newt behind them all. He went to flick the switch to turn out the lights. There was a horrible spray of sparks, and the lights flickered dramatically before turning off with a loud buzz.
“Robin!” Alison snapped. “Sorry about that, he likes to ‘haunt’ people by messing with the lights.”
“What I do?” said Robin. Alison turned, and saw that Robin had already left the room. Her mouth hung open awkwardly.
“Oh,” Newt said. “No. That was probably me.” He sighed. “I’m just cursed when it comes to electronics.”
“Mate,” Mike said, “I get that, too.”
“If we had the book,” Anathema said, voice rough with frustration, pacing the room with her head down, “we’d have known if we were going to get married or not, and we’d also know where.”
Newt, sitting on the bed, said nothing. She still had this impulse to bring up the book, from time to time, or, well, more often than that, if truth be told. She couldn’t help it. But Newt had learned long ago that it wasn’t an argument for her anymore, not something she needed to be convinced out of. No, Anathema had to have these thoughts, to speak them and growl them and stomp them out angrily, and then in so doing to remember exactly how the book always made her feel, how she was just as frustrated and lost back then, and how she’d not even believed in herself to have the agency to make up her own mind, her, Anathema, most strong-willed of the Devices since Agnes herself. It had been ridiculous. She always remembered in the end.
And Newt knew this. So he let her go through it, every time, for her own peace of mind. She loved him for it.
She sat on the bed beside him with a huff.
“It doesn’t need to be this difficult of a decision,” he said quietly.
“It does.” Anathema sighed. “Every decision needs to be difficult. Isn’t that what I’ve learned?”
“Look, we wouldn’t even be having a wedding if it were up to you. It’s only cause my mum would kill us if we didn’t. We should have it where you like.”
“But it’s about us. It should be someplace you like, too.”
“Why don’t you tell me why this place speaks to you so much?”
Anathema took in a deep breath. She closed her eyes. Even without the ghosts in the room, she could feel the place’s history. The lives lived here. The loss and the continual sense that there would always be a future.
“It’s Alison,” she says. “No one else knows what it’s like to have a whole crew of people from their past cheering them on, annoying and wonderful as it is. I’ve felt connected with her like I haven’t with anyone I’ve known so short a time—well, except you, obviously. She even has an ancestor putting loads of pressure on her, although Agnes and Fanny aren’t exactly alike aside from that. It’s magic here, and beautiful. And it’s terrifying. And strange. And Alison took that, took what should have made her want to run from this place, screaming, and she and Mike made a home here. Mike, who couldn’t understand—but stood by her side anyway. And that—it makes me think, maybe we can do that, too. If we start our lives together out here, in a home like this, maybe we can take the madness the world has given us and make a home of it, too.”
Newt smiled at her and took her hand. His eyes gleamed, but Anathema would never have mentioned it. He stuttered softly, then said, “Then let’s do it.”
They started wedding preparations the next day. Mike and Alison had been going through a slow season, and Newt and Anathema didn’t want a large wedding, and didn’t exactly have a lot of guests, so they set to work in order to have it done as soon as possible.
There were a few challenges. Newt’s mother was insistent on having someone ‘traditional’ to officiate the wedding. Anathema had to confess that, when it came to her son and her perception of his wellbeing, and only then, Mrs. Pulsifer went from being a sweet but not entirely perspicacious older woman to someone even a witch shouldn’t cross. The Captain offered to do it, and couldn’t seem to remember that Mrs. Pulsifer wouldn’t be able to see him, and therefore wouldn’t be appeased by this, respectable as such a wedding might be. Every time they found someone who was available, they kept losing their contact info. Phone numbers that were written down disappeared and webpages were closed while no one was looking. At first, it seemed as though they were all just having a hard time.
There were stranger things, too.
Anathema’s tea that had been sitting on their bedside table was found spilled all over Newt’s suitcase, while neither of them had been in the room. Anathema’s pack of tarot cards kept appearing on her bed, no matter how many times she put them away again. When she finally left them out, having given up on trying to pack them away, the next time she entered the room, the ‘Death’ card was on top.
“Which really isn’t as scary as people think it is,” she said, crossing her arms.
“It is a little ominous,” Newt said. “Er—you don’t think—this is, like, a sign? We’re in a haunted house. Maybe the ghosts have some sort of—occult wisdom? This place might be magical, and it knows something bad is going to happen, and it’s trying to warn us?”
Anathema gave an irritated sigh. “Believe me, if you’d seen Thomas and Kitty trying to play charades earlier, you would know there’s absolutely no occult wisdom here whatsoever.”
Also, the lights kept going out. But Robin insisted it wasn’t him, and Newt was fairly certain that it really was his own fault.
“He make light go out with no being dead,” Robin explained to Alison when she found him following Newt around. “Him be good ghost someday! Powerful!”
But still, strange things kept happening. And even Anathema had to admit, it seemed like they couldn’t have that much bad luck. It was all little things, all objects they could have simply misplaced, words on the computer they might have accidentally deleted.
Then, it was the ring.
Newt approached Anathema, who was looking over the food options Alison had given her for the reception.
“Er,” he said. “So, you know how I gave you a ring?”
Its band was twisted to look like vines intertwining. It had been perfect. Anathema couldn’t keep from smiling.
“Uhm,” Newt said. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that, and, er, didn’t mean to make a misstep, so I just wanted to make sure, now that—well—er, it’s just, something happened, and—well, is a ring one of those old tradition things you don’t really like? Symbolizing shackles, like we own one another, or something?”
“Well.” Anathema’s voice was higher than usual. “Actually, the circle signifies unity. And also, eternity, love going on and on. And it’s one of the oldest symbols in the world. Er.” She bit her lip and smiled, truly, valiantly, at him, and her eyes only looked a little shiny. “Why? Has something happened to it? Because if it did, of course that’d be fine, it’s only a silly symbol—”
“I’ll find it!” Newt said quickly. “I’ll find it, I’ll find it!” He flashed a grin, then ran out of the room.
Anathema sighed. She glanced at the tarot cards still sitting on the bedspread. She nodded.
“All right, then. Time to talk to some ghosts.”
“One of the ghosts is trying to sabotage our wedding?”
Newt’s face was pale as Anathema paced the kitchen. Alison looked furious.
“We’re really, really sorry,” Mike said. “We’ll think of something, Alison’s great with them—”
“I’ll kill them,” Alison growled. “Again.”
“They’ve all seemed so friendly,” Anathema said. “I don’t understand.”
“One of the ghosts is trying to sabotage our wedding,” Newt said again, stupefied. Then, “If they don’t want to talk, it’ll be impossible to figure out which one.”
“It would,” Alison said. “If it weren’t for the fact that your ring is missing, and only one of them can actually move things.”
Five minutes later, the four of them stood around Julian, sitting nonchalant in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, holding his hands out and smiling. He said simply, “My client wishes to keep things completely confidential.”
“So it wasn’t you who’s done all this?” Alison said. “Or at least, you’re not opposed to them getting married here?”
“Why would I want to stand in the way of your business venture?” Julian said. “Unless, of course, I could make a profit of my own. You understand, of course, strictly pragmatic, nothing personal.”
“You know, I never thought I’d want to exorcise anyone against their will,” Anathema said through gritted teeth. “But I am willing to look into it.”
“What’s happened? What’s he saying?” Newt stood on his toes to look over Anathema’s shoulder, as though this could possibly help.
“Best to just let them finish and explain later, mate,” Mike said.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Newt said to him, “or I’d feel completely mad.”
“Tell me about it. This is the first time I haven’t felt like the only one out of the loop in ages.”
“Julian, how can you even make a profit?” Alison said. “Can you just give being selfish a break? Just for one day?”
“I resent that remark.” Julian pointed a finger at her. “Did you ever consider that the person I’m doing this for might be grateful? I’ve heard her reasons, and they’re actually quite good.”
“So it’s a she!”
Julian looked startled. “I took a job out of compassion and I’m leaking clues about my client. Am I losing my touch?”
“Julian, please.” Alison looked at him pleadingly. “This wedding means a lot to me. Whatever they offered you, I’ll—I’ll give you double. Er, if I can. What did you even trade for, anyway?” She looked as though a horrible idea had just occurred to her. “You haven’t set up some sort of currency system between you and the other ghosts?”
“She offered her TV time,” Julian said. “Although now that you mention it—”
“TV time.” Alison ignored him and turned to Anathema. “There are only a few women in the house, and Fanny’s more into reading. It could be—Kitty? But she was so excited.”
“Did someone say my name?”
Alison and Anathema jumped as Kitty floated—not literally, of course, ghostliness aside, but figuratively—into the room, singing with her eyes closed in glee. Newt and Mike jumped a second later when they saw the women jump.
“Kitty,” Alison said sternly. “Did you ask Julian to try to disrupt Anathema and Newt’s wedding?”
Kitty looked from Alison, to Anathema, to Newt.
Then she burst into tears.
Alison recognized her mistake at once. “Oh—nope—no, I—sorry, Kitty, I should have known—”
Kitty bawled and Alison, wearing a pained expression, turned to Anathema.
“I should never have accused her, she loves love.”
Kitty nodded fervently and Anathema nodded, too, trying to look reassuring.
“Oh! That’s, er, very nice to you, Kitty. I know you wouldn’t do anything to stop our wedding, then.”
Kitty nodded and sniffled.
“Well, if it wasn’t Kitty,” Alison said, “and we know it was a woman, then—oh dear.”
“What?”
Alison gave Anathema a look. “Erm. I think, possibly, you might have to renounce Satan?”
Anathema looked thoughtful. “Well, technically I did that once already. Or at least I was prepared to. To his face, even. Although a young boy did it first. But surely that counts?”
“What on Earth are you two talking about?” Newt said, eyes wide.
Alison sighed. “Mary.”
“T’ain’t right.”
Anathema and Alison stood in the kitchen, Alison’s arms crossed, looking at the medieval ghost. Mike and Newt stood a little behind them. Mary was facing them as bravely as she could, her own arms crossed, as well, though her voice shook a bit, even more than normal.
“Mary, if you were so upset, why didn’t you just talk to me?” Alison said. “All right, maybe I should have seen that this would bother you, but—”
“S’not right at all,” Mary said, shaking her head back and forth. “I won’t allow it!”
“I know you’re opposed to witchcraft,” Alison said. “But these are good people! How can you condemn them unfairly when that same thing was done to you?”
“It’s not ‘er,” Mary said, her eyes flashing. She pointed behind Anathema. There was fire in her expression. “It’s ‘im!”
Alison and Anathema, startled, turned to Newt.
Anathema knew Newton well enough to have his shocked face memorized. She had been expecting it, even looking forward to it as, she had to admit, it was slightly adorable. Instead, they found him squinting—as though that might make his hearing better—at the wall slightly above Mary’s head.
“Oh, right,” Anathema said. “You wouldn’t be surprised, you didn’t hear her.”
Newt noticed they were staring at him. “Oh? What?”
“Mary said she didn’t stop the wedding because of me, but because of you.”
Newt then gave the gasp they had been waiting for, and the girls turned back to Mary.
“But why?” Alison asked.
Mary twitched her fingers for a moment. She looked down at the ground, her mouth moving silently. When she looked up, her eyes were shining. Any anger Anathema had had towards her, which had truthfully been very little, vanished.
“Witches is devlish things,” she mumbled. “They’s are bad. But—but witchfinders. They’s is evil.”
Alison took in a deep breath, and Anathema’s mouth formed itself into an ‘o’.
“You do seems nice, miss,” Mary said, almost apologetic, to Anathema. Then she cast Newt a dirty look. “But ‘e’s not good enough for you. Someone who would hunt you down, and burns you at the stake. It’s not right. They’re right nasty people, witchfinders.”
Anathema bowed her head. She thought about her ancestors, and Newt’s, and all the weight they carried.
Then she thought about how quickly a fire could burn away a very heavy book, and how free one could feel when watching the smoke rise and dissipate into the blue sky.
“Mary,” Anathema said, voice gentle. “That is very nice of you. I’m glad you’re looking out for other women like me. But—Newt isn’t like that at all.”
“What?” Newt said, looking back and forth between her and a space on the wall where he assumed Mary must be.
“I wish you could talk to him,” she went on. “I know you’ve tried to talk to enough men who never listened. But, really, please trust me. He’s sweet. He was only a witchfinder because he wanted to do something good. And when he found out it wasn’t what he thought it was, he did do good. A lot of it. Really.”
Mary bit her lip, glancing at Newt, then looking at the ground, then back up at Anathema.
“D’you know what he burned?” she said, voice more eager now. “The only way I associate Newt with fire is because he burned a book, which I know sounds bad, but it wasn’t a good book. It was a witch’s book, and it was keeping be trapped. It didn’t mean to, but it was. Newt burned it, and he set me free.”
Mary blinked rapidly. Finally, she looked at Newt, head-on, and didn’t turn away.
Anathema explained to him quietly what the ghost had said. Then she said, “Talk to her. Go on. She’s listening.”
Newt cleared his throat. He made himself look unthreatening in the way that he could, while so many ‘nice’ men failed to do, but somehow, on him, looked genuine.
“Mary?” he said. “I promise you that I never intended to hurt Anathema. And, for as long as I live, though I may be an almighty klutz, and a terror with technology—all of that aside, I promise that I never will.”
He turned to Anathema.
“And I understand you being upset that I was in the Witchfinder Army. But that’s how I found her—and I never looked back once. She’s been the best thing I’ve ever found. And I wouldn’t change her. I don’t always understand her magic, or the way she sees the world. But that’s what makes her so wonderful. It’s what makes knowing her so wonderful. It’s weird and beautiful, and my world is bigger now. And it’s magic.”
Alison caught Mike staring at her. He gave her a huge grin, and she smiled, and he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side, Alison leaning against him with her eyes closed.
“Anathema’s an amazing person, with an amazing life,” Newt said, smiling at his future wife. “And all I want to do is be a part of it, since she’ll let me, and maybe bring her some comfort, too. And the best thing about loving Anathema Device is that I know she’s brilliant, and knows her mind, and she’d never let me near her if she didn’t know that I might actually be able to do just that. So—so if you can trust her—maybe you can trust me?”
He turned back to face Mary, or at least attempt to. Anathema turned him slightly so that the ghost was directly in front of him. Mary hesitated.
Newt bit his lip.
Then, Mary smiled.
“Oh, all right,” she said, shrugging and looking down again, but with a much sunnier expression. “I’ll shows you where the ring is.”
Alison gave a little ‘whoop’, and the others, catching on, celebrated the news. Kitty hurried in a moment later and added her cheers. Soon, all of the ghosts were in the room, trying not to get walked through and creating a beautiful cacophony. Alison and Anathema, making eye contact, held their hands to their ears and laughed. Mike and Newt also met each other’s eye, and Mike gave Newt a proud nod. The ghosts had congregated around Mary and were patting her arm and shaking her hand while she blushed, more than a ghost could ever be thought to do.
“I love you,” Anathema said to Newt, pulling him to her by the arm and whispering it into his ear.
“I love you,” Newt said. He pressed his face against her hair. No one could hear him but her, but it had always been that way. Like he’d been a ghost his entire life, until he’d found the perfect person to listen, the one who would always understand. “My wonderful, witchy, magical wife.”
“I’m not your wife yet,” Anathema laughed.
“Well, how does the future look?” Newt said with a cheeky grin.
Anathema pretended to think about it. Then she smiled. “It looks bright. It looks very, very bright.”
Recipient: srslyarts
Rating: G / No Archive Warnings Apply
Pairings: Anathema/Newt, Alison/Mike
Summary: Anathema and Newt are looking for somewhere to get married. Alison and Mike are looking to host weddings at their ancestral home. The house’s many ghosts are just curious about the newcomers, but when they start accusing one of them of witchcraft, they weren’t expecting her to reply! A Good Omens and BBC Ghosts crossover
Thank you so much srslyarts for this prompt! You don’t know how psyched I was when I saw it right after having seen the first three seasons of BBC Ghosts and instantly falling in love with it. Sadly, in the US we don’t have the fourth one yet, so I might be missing some details (don’t worry though, this IS the BBC show and not the American one). I’m only sorry I couldn’t give each of the ghosts more time, but I sure did enjoy writing this :D Wishing you a very happy holiday season!
Note: For Good Omens, I was imagining the book characters and plot, but 1. I realized this would technically be the wrong time period, which I’m conveniently ignoring, and 2. I couldn’t resist including Newt’s three-wheeled car from the TV show, even though ‘the Wasabi’ is a much better name.
Gravel crunched in the driveway leading up to the old Button house. It crunched one wheel’s-worth less than usual.
“I never know where to park in places like this,” Newt said, stopping Dick Turpin. Granted, he rarely found himself in places like this. “I feel like I should be using the servants’ entrance.”
“But we’re not servants,” Anathema said. “This place is being presented for us. We’re guests, but they also want us to like it here enough to book it for our wedding. They’ll be showing off. So, really, it’s almost like we’re the fancy upper-class people it would’ve been built to impress centuries ago."
"Gosh," said Newt, who did not consider himself a 'fancy’ person.
“Gosh,” agreed Anathema, who considered herself a ‘fancy’ person in an entirely different way than the original owners of the house would have ever had in mind for its guests.
The two left the car and made their way to the front of the building.
“Door’s open,” Newt said.
“The owner said they’d have construction workers in and out. That’s probably what all the noise is. They’ll never hear us knocking, should we show ourselves in?”
Newt gave that half-shrug-half-nod that Anathema thought represented his entire character, and which she found so endearing, and they entered the house.
They did have to dodge quite a few construction workers as they navigated the halls.
“You said they film documentaries here?” Newt said. “I bet this place has seen tons of history.”
“Absolutely.” Anathema nodded at two construction workers. Behind them, in the next room, she saw a woman in full violet Victorian garb, twirling around and giggling. “Er. They do films here, too. Historical. Although I’m not sure how accurate—”
“Ah! There you are!”
A much more modern-looking, and, they were both happy to discover, down-to-earth couple greeted them with big smiles.
“You must be Newton and—er—Anathema, wasn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“Great to meet you. I’m Alison, and this is Mike.” She indicated her partner, who gave a wave. “We’re so happy to have you. Sorry again about the construction. I’m glad you’ve agreed to spend the night, you really will be able to see how beautiful the place can be in the morning once they’ve all left. Let me show you to your rooms.”
Downstairs, Kitty stopped her twirling to go and find the other ghosts. She gathered them all in the main hall.
“Another wedding,” Lady Button sniffed. “I suppose this will at least fund the repairs to my ancestors’ home?”
“Time we surveilled the dormitory,” the Captain said, raising his chin. “Made sure everything was in order. Let’s get to it.”
On their way upstairs, the ghosts jumped left and right to avoid being walked through by living humans. It was particularly close when they rounded the corner and nearly collided with a whole crew of construction men. Robin had to flatten himself against a wall to keep away from them. At the same time, the new people, a young woman and man, were being led back downstairs by Alison.
“I’ll just show you how to get to the kitchen for dinner,” Alison was saying. “It can be tricky with so many people wandering about.”
“Do you ever film, er, time-travel movies here?” Anathema asked, looking back at the mixture of construction workers and people dressed in an odd array of fashions. But the ghosts had already moved on, and didn’t hear, and Alison, of course, assumed she was just being conversational.
“Right,” the Captain said. “Let’s see what sort of condition they leave their rooms in.”
Inside the guest room, the Captain was disappointed to find that the newcomers had left an unholy mess.
“Ooh, one of them likes Maltesers,” Pat said, eying the bag with a mixture of approval, eagerness, and jealousy.
“The lady’s style is so mystical,” Thomas said, sweeping a hand past the dresses Anathema had hung up to de-wrinkle. “Though, of course, not so lovely as Alison’s. Clearly she has an eye for the fantastical. Perhaps she is a fellow poet?”
“It’s not proper attire for a lady,” Fanny huffed. “I can reconcile myself with the fact that showing one’s knees has become acceptable in modern society. But to wear lace that does not actually conceal one’s shoulders—”
“Look,” Robin said. He was standing near a jewelry box, which lay open. “Moonah!”
“Lunar symbols,” Pat said. “And stars. And all sorts of things you’d see on tarot cards. I wonder if she’s a Hippie?”
“Perhaps she’s a witch,” Julian drawled.
“Now,” Pat said appeasingly, “I’m sure—”
“A witch!” gasped Mary. The medieval ghost started to gently smoke. “Witches be bringing bad lucks to Alison and Mikes! Oh, dear, oh dear—”
“Julian was only joking, Mary, weren’t you, Jul—”
“Aha! Crystals!” Julian pointed dramatically at where the stones lay arranged on the bedside table. “She’s some sort of mystic.”
“If they be witches,” Mary said, “we needs to tell Alisons. She’s bad, that witch—”
“And they’ve also got sage,” Julian said in disgust. “And herbs. To cleanse the place, I’ll bet. Ruddy hippies.”
“Oh.” Mary calmed down. “Herbs is for rational ladies. She’s prob’ly fine.”
The ghosts continued to look through Anathema and Newt’s things. They didn’t, of course, dishevel any of them, except for once, when Julian was excited to find one of Newt’s magazines. It turned out only to be something about electronics and robot building sets for children. He knocked it to the floor in disappointment.
“Well, I suppose things are all in order,” the Captain said. “Messiness aside, they don’t seem to pose too much of a threat.”
“I bet they’re going to have a lovely wedding,” Kitty said, practically bouncing. “Ooh, I can’t wait. With a pretty white dress—”
“Or a black one,” Julian said, to a gasp from Fanny.
“Oh, stop it, Julian,” Pat said.
“I mean, if she is a witch—”
“There’s nothing witchy about—oh.”
Pat stopped with his mouth open. The other ghosts turned to him. He was staring down at the side table. Julian leaned over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. He grinned.
“This magazine—it was under the robotics one—it does look—”
“Well, what did I say? Hippies.”
“No, I remember this from when I was alive.” Pat looked up at the others, brow pulled together with worry. “Er. It did have a certain connotation of being for—”
“For what?” Thomas said, throwing his hands together. “Good god, man, the anticipation!”
“For—for—” Pat winced. “Er, well, witches.”
Kitty gasped. Fanny jumped, mostly because of Kitty’s dramatic gasp. Thomas put a hand to his heart. Then someone spoke.
“Excuse me. I am a witch, but it’s still very rude to go through someone’s belongings.”
The ghosts turned in unison to the bedroom door, which was standing open, and in the doorway stood a woman.
A living woman.
A living woman speaking to all of them.
Every single ghost screamed, and, in the pandemonium, although she would be embarrassed by it later, Anathema did, too.
In the kitchen, four living beings sat at the table with tea warming their hands. Surrounding the table stood quite a few ghosts.
“Er,” Anathema said, not sure whether it was polite to look at the ghosts while she was speaking about them or not. “Do they sit?”
“Oh. Er. Not really.” Alison tilted her head and squinted. “I—hadn’t really thought of it. I mean, they do in other rooms. Do you guys want me to pull out chairs for you, or—?”
The ghosts murmured a variety of responses that led to absolutely no decision being made.
“So, exactly how many of them are there?” asked Newt, who was still holding the I-beam level he had for some reason grabbed when he’d heard Anathema scream. She gently pried it from his hand and replaced it with his mug of tea.
“In here?” Alison said. “Oh, er, Humphrey’s still wandering around looking for his head, so I suppose in here right now there are eight.”
“Eight?” Newt put down the tea and sat back in his chair. Michael gave him a sympathetic nod. Newt sat up again. “Hold on. Did you say in here?”
“Well,” Alison said. She gave Anathema a worried look. “You may want to avoid going in the basement. Unless you’re a real history buff who doesn’t scare easily?”
It was only out of determination to stay by her soon-to-be-husband to keep him from having a nervous breakdown that Anathema did not immediately dash down to the basement.
“So you can just see them automatically?” Alison said. “You didn’t bump your head or fall out of a window or anything?”
“I have trained in being able to see what’s really there for years,” Anathema said. “My whole life, really. But it’s possible I’m just born able to see ghosts. Witchcraft sort of runs in the family. I’ve seen glimpses here or there. Usually, I only realize that strangely dressed person I saw looking out of a window was a ghost sometime after the fact. I’ve never run across this many.”
“This is so exciting,” Alison said, smiling. “I never thought I’d be able to share how weird this all is with anyone. I never get to talk about them—I mean, I’ve told Mike all about them, of course, but he can’t actually see everyone—I mean, I could have a conversation with the ghosts and another person, and not look like the only crazy one—”
“It’ll get less weird over time,” Mike said quietly to Newt, passing him a scone. “Well, no, it won’t. But you’ll get used to it.”
“Actually, believe it or not, I’ve been through weirder with Anathema.” Newt, nevertheless, looked rather dumbstruck. “But I have to admit, this is a—new kind of weird.”
“I’m just glad I’m not the only guy who has a wife who can speak to ghosts anymore,” Mike said with a grin. “I mean, I know it’s not as weird as being someone who can speak to ghosts. But it’s a bit odd when your partner knows all this stuff and you’re completely in the dark.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So you host dozens of people here for events,” Anathema was saying to Alison. “While ghosts are floating all around them. And they don’t even know? Is that ethical?”
“Usually, they behave. It’s not really like being haunted. Our guests are fine.”
“I meant for the ghosts.”
“Ooh,” Pat said, “I like her!”
“There are certain rooms we keep off-limits to guests,” Alison explained. “We’ve got so much construction going on, even after all this time, that it’s easy to say the Captain’s room just isn’t safe for habitation, or that Lady Button’s room has a minor damp problem.”
Fanny and the Captain sputtered indignantly, and Anathema tried not to laugh. Alison beamed. It was the first time she had someone else to laugh with about them all.
“So, you don’t think it’s too—creepy—er, for a wedding?” Newt said. As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized that, of course, for Anathema there was no such thing.
“It’s really not creepy at all,” Michael said. “The ghosts are, like, really harmless. I know it seems scary—”
“Mike was totally creeped out at first,” Alison said.
“He big scared,” Robin laughed.
“—Er, yeah. Yeah, all right, I was. It seems, like, totally weird and creepy and bizarre, but it’s actually not that bad at all.”
Newt gave a brave little half-smile, and Anathema patted him on the hand.
“We’ll have to talk about it,” she said. “But, overall, this has been—well, pretty exciting for me. I mean, you don’t run across too many witches these days. And I’m not saying that’s what you are, if you don’t want to be, I know people have bad feelings about that word, but just—someone else who knows there’s more out there, who understands it. Even finding that is special.”
Alison smiled. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“I mean, Newt knows there’s more,” Anathema conceded. “He just—”
“Doesn’t quite get it,” Newt said, nodding. “Don’t worry, Anathema, it’s okay. I mean, I don’t get it. Like, at all.”
“And I get that!” Michael said, and the two boys beamed at each other across the table.
“Isn’t this wonderful?” Kitty said, clasping her hands together. “Love and friendship and weddings!”
“Ask her what sort of dress she’ll be wearing,” Fanny said. “If she’s going to be wearing something completely unsuitable—”
“She can hear you, Fanny, you can ask her yourself,” said Alison.
“Oh, right.”
“Alison, I am so happy for you that you have at last found the sisterhood you desire,” Thomas crooned, hand in the air. “It reminds me of one of my oldest poems, ‘Family, O Family—‘”
“Young lady,” the Captain said, “I’d congratulate you on your marriage, but I want to make sure you’ve really thought things through. In this young man’s luggage, I believe I saw fake military emblems—”
“Oh, no, those are real, actually,” Anathema said. “It’s the Witchfinder Army. He used to be a member. Funny story, it’s actually how we met. But, he’s, er, retired now.”
The ghosts gasped. Then they turned, subtly, as though they hadn’t all just gasped, to Mary.
“Are they talking about me?” Newt said, surprised. He turned to a wall and gave a little wave. “Erm, hi!”
The ghosts were still staring at Mary.
“Is that the group who—er—?” Pat said delicately.
“Oh, no,” Mary said, blowing out a disdainful puff of air. “Thems was idiots. Awful, but idiots, nonetheless.”
“A witch and a witchfinder,” Mike said. “What a world, eh?”
“Exactly,” Anathema said with a smile.
“Er—are they still talking about me?”
“No,” Alison said to Newt. “But Robin is looking at you—Robin, don’t you dare!”
“What? What’s he doing?”
“Fine, I no haunt,” Robin said grumpily.
“The only thing that really feels haunted about living with ghosts is if you walk through them,” Alison said. “And trust me, they don’t like that any more than you will, so they’re pretty good at getting out of the way of your guests.”
“I think—” Anathema started eagerly. But then she saw Newt, frowning concernedly in mid-air, a yard away from where Robin was actually standing and laughing at him. “Er. I think we’d better talk about it first.”
“Of course,” Mike said.
“And we don’t want to pressure you,” Alison said. “This situation is—more unique than any other potential weddings we’ve had. But, really. Thanks. Just—for being here. And meeting me.”
Anathema shook her hand, and they all stood to leave the room. The girls let the ghosts leave first, then they did, then Mike, with Newt behind them all. He went to flick the switch to turn out the lights. There was a horrible spray of sparks, and the lights flickered dramatically before turning off with a loud buzz.
“Robin!” Alison snapped. “Sorry about that, he likes to ‘haunt’ people by messing with the lights.”
“What I do?” said Robin. Alison turned, and saw that Robin had already left the room. Her mouth hung open awkwardly.
“Oh,” Newt said. “No. That was probably me.” He sighed. “I’m just cursed when it comes to electronics.”
“Mate,” Mike said, “I get that, too.”
“If we had the book,” Anathema said, voice rough with frustration, pacing the room with her head down, “we’d have known if we were going to get married or not, and we’d also know where.”
Newt, sitting on the bed, said nothing. She still had this impulse to bring up the book, from time to time, or, well, more often than that, if truth be told. She couldn’t help it. But Newt had learned long ago that it wasn’t an argument for her anymore, not something she needed to be convinced out of. No, Anathema had to have these thoughts, to speak them and growl them and stomp them out angrily, and then in so doing to remember exactly how the book always made her feel, how she was just as frustrated and lost back then, and how she’d not even believed in herself to have the agency to make up her own mind, her, Anathema, most strong-willed of the Devices since Agnes herself. It had been ridiculous. She always remembered in the end.
And Newt knew this. So he let her go through it, every time, for her own peace of mind. She loved him for it.
She sat on the bed beside him with a huff.
“It doesn’t need to be this difficult of a decision,” he said quietly.
“It does.” Anathema sighed. “Every decision needs to be difficult. Isn’t that what I’ve learned?”
“Look, we wouldn’t even be having a wedding if it were up to you. It’s only cause my mum would kill us if we didn’t. We should have it where you like.”
“But it’s about us. It should be someplace you like, too.”
“Why don’t you tell me why this place speaks to you so much?”
Anathema took in a deep breath. She closed her eyes. Even without the ghosts in the room, she could feel the place’s history. The lives lived here. The loss and the continual sense that there would always be a future.
“It’s Alison,” she says. “No one else knows what it’s like to have a whole crew of people from their past cheering them on, annoying and wonderful as it is. I’ve felt connected with her like I haven’t with anyone I’ve known so short a time—well, except you, obviously. She even has an ancestor putting loads of pressure on her, although Agnes and Fanny aren’t exactly alike aside from that. It’s magic here, and beautiful. And it’s terrifying. And strange. And Alison took that, took what should have made her want to run from this place, screaming, and she and Mike made a home here. Mike, who couldn’t understand—but stood by her side anyway. And that—it makes me think, maybe we can do that, too. If we start our lives together out here, in a home like this, maybe we can take the madness the world has given us and make a home of it, too.”
Newt smiled at her and took her hand. His eyes gleamed, but Anathema would never have mentioned it. He stuttered softly, then said, “Then let’s do it.”
They started wedding preparations the next day. Mike and Alison had been going through a slow season, and Newt and Anathema didn’t want a large wedding, and didn’t exactly have a lot of guests, so they set to work in order to have it done as soon as possible.
There were a few challenges. Newt’s mother was insistent on having someone ‘traditional’ to officiate the wedding. Anathema had to confess that, when it came to her son and her perception of his wellbeing, and only then, Mrs. Pulsifer went from being a sweet but not entirely perspicacious older woman to someone even a witch shouldn’t cross. The Captain offered to do it, and couldn’t seem to remember that Mrs. Pulsifer wouldn’t be able to see him, and therefore wouldn’t be appeased by this, respectable as such a wedding might be. Every time they found someone who was available, they kept losing their contact info. Phone numbers that were written down disappeared and webpages were closed while no one was looking. At first, it seemed as though they were all just having a hard time.
There were stranger things, too.
Anathema’s tea that had been sitting on their bedside table was found spilled all over Newt’s suitcase, while neither of them had been in the room. Anathema’s pack of tarot cards kept appearing on her bed, no matter how many times she put them away again. When she finally left them out, having given up on trying to pack them away, the next time she entered the room, the ‘Death’ card was on top.
“Which really isn’t as scary as people think it is,” she said, crossing her arms.
“It is a little ominous,” Newt said. “Er—you don’t think—this is, like, a sign? We’re in a haunted house. Maybe the ghosts have some sort of—occult wisdom? This place might be magical, and it knows something bad is going to happen, and it’s trying to warn us?”
Anathema gave an irritated sigh. “Believe me, if you’d seen Thomas and Kitty trying to play charades earlier, you would know there’s absolutely no occult wisdom here whatsoever.”
Also, the lights kept going out. But Robin insisted it wasn’t him, and Newt was fairly certain that it really was his own fault.
“He make light go out with no being dead,” Robin explained to Alison when she found him following Newt around. “Him be good ghost someday! Powerful!”
But still, strange things kept happening. And even Anathema had to admit, it seemed like they couldn’t have that much bad luck. It was all little things, all objects they could have simply misplaced, words on the computer they might have accidentally deleted.
Then, it was the ring.
Newt approached Anathema, who was looking over the food options Alison had given her for the reception.
“Er,” he said. “So, you know how I gave you a ring?”
Its band was twisted to look like vines intertwining. It had been perfect. Anathema couldn’t keep from smiling.
“Uhm,” Newt said. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that, and, er, didn’t mean to make a misstep, so I just wanted to make sure, now that—well—er, it’s just, something happened, and—well, is a ring one of those old tradition things you don’t really like? Symbolizing shackles, like we own one another, or something?”
“Well.” Anathema’s voice was higher than usual. “Actually, the circle signifies unity. And also, eternity, love going on and on. And it’s one of the oldest symbols in the world. Er.” She bit her lip and smiled, truly, valiantly, at him, and her eyes only looked a little shiny. “Why? Has something happened to it? Because if it did, of course that’d be fine, it’s only a silly symbol—”
“I’ll find it!” Newt said quickly. “I’ll find it, I’ll find it!” He flashed a grin, then ran out of the room.
Anathema sighed. She glanced at the tarot cards still sitting on the bedspread. She nodded.
“All right, then. Time to talk to some ghosts.”
“One of the ghosts is trying to sabotage our wedding?”
Newt’s face was pale as Anathema paced the kitchen. Alison looked furious.
“We’re really, really sorry,” Mike said. “We’ll think of something, Alison’s great with them—”
“I’ll kill them,” Alison growled. “Again.”
“They’ve all seemed so friendly,” Anathema said. “I don’t understand.”
“One of the ghosts is trying to sabotage our wedding,” Newt said again, stupefied. Then, “If they don’t want to talk, it’ll be impossible to figure out which one.”
“It would,” Alison said. “If it weren’t for the fact that your ring is missing, and only one of them can actually move things.”
Five minutes later, the four of them stood around Julian, sitting nonchalant in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, holding his hands out and smiling. He said simply, “My client wishes to keep things completely confidential.”
“So it wasn’t you who’s done all this?” Alison said. “Or at least, you’re not opposed to them getting married here?”
“Why would I want to stand in the way of your business venture?” Julian said. “Unless, of course, I could make a profit of my own. You understand, of course, strictly pragmatic, nothing personal.”
“You know, I never thought I’d want to exorcise anyone against their will,” Anathema said through gritted teeth. “But I am willing to look into it.”
“What’s happened? What’s he saying?” Newt stood on his toes to look over Anathema’s shoulder, as though this could possibly help.
“Best to just let them finish and explain later, mate,” Mike said.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Newt said to him, “or I’d feel completely mad.”
“Tell me about it. This is the first time I haven’t felt like the only one out of the loop in ages.”
“Julian, how can you even make a profit?” Alison said. “Can you just give being selfish a break? Just for one day?”
“I resent that remark.” Julian pointed a finger at her. “Did you ever consider that the person I’m doing this for might be grateful? I’ve heard her reasons, and they’re actually quite good.”
“So it’s a she!”
Julian looked startled. “I took a job out of compassion and I’m leaking clues about my client. Am I losing my touch?”
“Julian, please.” Alison looked at him pleadingly. “This wedding means a lot to me. Whatever they offered you, I’ll—I’ll give you double. Er, if I can. What did you even trade for, anyway?” She looked as though a horrible idea had just occurred to her. “You haven’t set up some sort of currency system between you and the other ghosts?”
“She offered her TV time,” Julian said. “Although now that you mention it—”
“TV time.” Alison ignored him and turned to Anathema. “There are only a few women in the house, and Fanny’s more into reading. It could be—Kitty? But she was so excited.”
“Did someone say my name?”
Alison and Anathema jumped as Kitty floated—not literally, of course, ghostliness aside, but figuratively—into the room, singing with her eyes closed in glee. Newt and Mike jumped a second later when they saw the women jump.
“Kitty,” Alison said sternly. “Did you ask Julian to try to disrupt Anathema and Newt’s wedding?”
Kitty looked from Alison, to Anathema, to Newt.
Then she burst into tears.
Alison recognized her mistake at once. “Oh—nope—no, I—sorry, Kitty, I should have known—”
Kitty bawled and Alison, wearing a pained expression, turned to Anathema.
“I should never have accused her, she loves love.”
Kitty nodded fervently and Anathema nodded, too, trying to look reassuring.
“Oh! That’s, er, very nice to you, Kitty. I know you wouldn’t do anything to stop our wedding, then.”
Kitty nodded and sniffled.
“Well, if it wasn’t Kitty,” Alison said, “and we know it was a woman, then—oh dear.”
“What?”
Alison gave Anathema a look. “Erm. I think, possibly, you might have to renounce Satan?”
Anathema looked thoughtful. “Well, technically I did that once already. Or at least I was prepared to. To his face, even. Although a young boy did it first. But surely that counts?”
“What on Earth are you two talking about?” Newt said, eyes wide.
Alison sighed. “Mary.”
“T’ain’t right.”
Anathema and Alison stood in the kitchen, Alison’s arms crossed, looking at the medieval ghost. Mike and Newt stood a little behind them. Mary was facing them as bravely as she could, her own arms crossed, as well, though her voice shook a bit, even more than normal.
“Mary, if you were so upset, why didn’t you just talk to me?” Alison said. “All right, maybe I should have seen that this would bother you, but—”
“S’not right at all,” Mary said, shaking her head back and forth. “I won’t allow it!”
“I know you’re opposed to witchcraft,” Alison said. “But these are good people! How can you condemn them unfairly when that same thing was done to you?”
“It’s not ‘er,” Mary said, her eyes flashing. She pointed behind Anathema. There was fire in her expression. “It’s ‘im!”
Alison and Anathema, startled, turned to Newt.
Anathema knew Newton well enough to have his shocked face memorized. She had been expecting it, even looking forward to it as, she had to admit, it was slightly adorable. Instead, they found him squinting—as though that might make his hearing better—at the wall slightly above Mary’s head.
“Oh, right,” Anathema said. “You wouldn’t be surprised, you didn’t hear her.”
Newt noticed they were staring at him. “Oh? What?”
“Mary said she didn’t stop the wedding because of me, but because of you.”
Newt then gave the gasp they had been waiting for, and the girls turned back to Mary.
“But why?” Alison asked.
Mary twitched her fingers for a moment. She looked down at the ground, her mouth moving silently. When she looked up, her eyes were shining. Any anger Anathema had had towards her, which had truthfully been very little, vanished.
“Witches is devlish things,” she mumbled. “They’s are bad. But—but witchfinders. They’s is evil.”
Alison took in a deep breath, and Anathema’s mouth formed itself into an ‘o’.
“You do seems nice, miss,” Mary said, almost apologetic, to Anathema. Then she cast Newt a dirty look. “But ‘e’s not good enough for you. Someone who would hunt you down, and burns you at the stake. It’s not right. They’re right nasty people, witchfinders.”
Anathema bowed her head. She thought about her ancestors, and Newt’s, and all the weight they carried.
Then she thought about how quickly a fire could burn away a very heavy book, and how free one could feel when watching the smoke rise and dissipate into the blue sky.
“Mary,” Anathema said, voice gentle. “That is very nice of you. I’m glad you’re looking out for other women like me. But—Newt isn’t like that at all.”
“What?” Newt said, looking back and forth between her and a space on the wall where he assumed Mary must be.
“I wish you could talk to him,” she went on. “I know you’ve tried to talk to enough men who never listened. But, really, please trust me. He’s sweet. He was only a witchfinder because he wanted to do something good. And when he found out it wasn’t what he thought it was, he did do good. A lot of it. Really.”
Mary bit her lip, glancing at Newt, then looking at the ground, then back up at Anathema.
“D’you know what he burned?” she said, voice more eager now. “The only way I associate Newt with fire is because he burned a book, which I know sounds bad, but it wasn’t a good book. It was a witch’s book, and it was keeping be trapped. It didn’t mean to, but it was. Newt burned it, and he set me free.”
Mary blinked rapidly. Finally, she looked at Newt, head-on, and didn’t turn away.
Anathema explained to him quietly what the ghost had said. Then she said, “Talk to her. Go on. She’s listening.”
Newt cleared his throat. He made himself look unthreatening in the way that he could, while so many ‘nice’ men failed to do, but somehow, on him, looked genuine.
“Mary?” he said. “I promise you that I never intended to hurt Anathema. And, for as long as I live, though I may be an almighty klutz, and a terror with technology—all of that aside, I promise that I never will.”
He turned to Anathema.
“And I understand you being upset that I was in the Witchfinder Army. But that’s how I found her—and I never looked back once. She’s been the best thing I’ve ever found. And I wouldn’t change her. I don’t always understand her magic, or the way she sees the world. But that’s what makes her so wonderful. It’s what makes knowing her so wonderful. It’s weird and beautiful, and my world is bigger now. And it’s magic.”
Alison caught Mike staring at her. He gave her a huge grin, and she smiled, and he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side, Alison leaning against him with her eyes closed.
“Anathema’s an amazing person, with an amazing life,” Newt said, smiling at his future wife. “And all I want to do is be a part of it, since she’ll let me, and maybe bring her some comfort, too. And the best thing about loving Anathema Device is that I know she’s brilliant, and knows her mind, and she’d never let me near her if she didn’t know that I might actually be able to do just that. So—so if you can trust her—maybe you can trust me?”
He turned back to face Mary, or at least attempt to. Anathema turned him slightly so that the ghost was directly in front of him. Mary hesitated.
Newt bit his lip.
Then, Mary smiled.
“Oh, all right,” she said, shrugging and looking down again, but with a much sunnier expression. “I’ll shows you where the ring is.”
Alison gave a little ‘whoop’, and the others, catching on, celebrated the news. Kitty hurried in a moment later and added her cheers. Soon, all of the ghosts were in the room, trying not to get walked through and creating a beautiful cacophony. Alison and Anathema, making eye contact, held their hands to their ears and laughed. Mike and Newt also met each other’s eye, and Mike gave Newt a proud nod. The ghosts had congregated around Mary and were patting her arm and shaking her hand while she blushed, more than a ghost could ever be thought to do.
“I love you,” Anathema said to Newt, pulling him to her by the arm and whispering it into his ear.
“I love you,” Newt said. He pressed his face against her hair. No one could hear him but her, but it had always been that way. Like he’d been a ghost his entire life, until he’d found the perfect person to listen, the one who would always understand. “My wonderful, witchy, magical wife.”
“I’m not your wife yet,” Anathema laughed.
“Well, how does the future look?” Newt said with a cheeky grin.
Anathema pretended to think about it. Then she smiled. “It looks bright. It looks very, very bright.”
Perfect!
Date: 2022-12-10 01:49 pm (UTC)Re: Perfect!
Date: 2022-12-11 07:02 pm (UTC)It was hard to get all their voices, and I have such respect for the writers of the show now that I've seen how difficult it is to write with SUCH a large cast, haha!
Thanks for commenting! --secret author
(no subject)
Date: 2022-12-11 11:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-12-13 03:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2023-01-08 03:40 pm (UTC)Firstly, you really nailed all the ghosts personality, I can imagine all the dialogue in their voices clearly!
And then the friendship between Alison+Mike and Newt+Anathema?? IS SO CUTE!! Mike and Newt bonding over and watching their (future) wives talking about ghosts can be something that's really personal actually <3
The bit with Robin and Newt is also really funny!! I just really like how excited Robin is here 😂
> Also, the lights kept going out. But Robin insisted it wasn’t him, and Newt was fairly certain that it really was his own fault.
“He make light go out with no being dead,” Robin explained to Alison when she found him following Newt around. “Him be good ghost someday! Powerful!”
All in all, everything about this fic is so wonderful and I'll be reading this over and over again thank you so much!!