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Library, Sunday

Face mightn't have had any guests, but he was putting in an effort at the library today, he wasn't napping, there were no embarrassing books where people's guests might see them, and he also wasn't huddling over a mug of caf.

It was a Parents' Weekend miracle.

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John held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender. "Mate, pretty sure compared you and yours, I'm one of those young people. 'An I'm usually convinced I know best."

"I do know I don't want to know what happened with your youngest to cause her change. That sort of knowledge is power that I prefer not to screw with, if you get my drift. Makes too many people too interested."

Sod it, John was going to kick his kettle on and prepare some real tea, because he fucking needed it. "Mind, if it was her love life -- not that I'm asking -- you may want to take a look at another one o' your happy family for part of the blame. THAT one loves to meddle in shite they shouldn't be poking at."

Constantine wasn't above blaming Desire for more than a few of his bad choices. Or anyone else's bad choices.

"Maybe," Time acknowledged. "Whatever happened is long over, anyhow, and the rest of us get to clean up the mess."

He cocked his head at Constantine, interested. "How'd you get wrapped up with us, anyhow? Most mortals don't even know my family exists, let alone end up making us tea."

"Isn't that the ten thousand pound question? How did I get wrapped up in all this nonsense? Which one of 'em gave you the impression I was taller?" he asked, tickled pink at the idea. "But I'm a magus by trade, and I make it a point to know what sort of immortals are wandering about and tinkering with humanity when they shouldn't be screwing with our free will. Not to mention that those of us that play with magic tend to attract attention from the more-than-mortal set, your lot included."

The kettle going, he started rummaging in his desk for the tea. "Mind, I'd rather most of you stayed out of our business -- especially Destiny, I hate the idea of Destiny -- but Dream's used me more than once to get what he wants, and Death keeps patting me on the head and kicking my butt back out of her Realm. In a nice way, of course."

"She does everything in a nice way, that one," Time observed. "But lucky you, staying out of the sunless lands a bit longer."

He found a comfortable bit of wall to lean against, folding his arms as he did. "What's the point of hating the idea of Destiny? You might just as well hate gravity or oxygen."

"Because we were put here specifically with free will, and Destiny tromps all over that," John said, pointing the tea canister at Time. "What good is that free will if he's got his big book and has already decided how things are going to go? If all that were written down was "you are born and then you die," that would be one thing. But to have all the bits? That's just not kosher, mate. Freedom to decide, without interference of the divine or otherwise, that's what humanity is supposed to be about, and the existence of Destiny mucks that up."

Didi really was probably going to have the most massive headache ever, and Constantine wasn't even sorry.

"You couldn't have named him 'Direction' or 'Daring' or 'Darkness' or, hell, 'Daiquiri'? Come on, mate."

"You know so much less than you think you do," Time informed him, levelly. "But that's nothing new. Nobody quite understands these things, and maybe you aren't supposed to."

A pause. "I take my tea with milk, by the way."

"I'm the fucking Laughing Magician. Mocking 'these things' is what I'm supposed to do." And there was something sharp in John's smile that wasn't apologetic in the slightest. "I know it's hard to keep things linear, but you've seen more than a few of us parade thorough. It's the job of the jester to point out that the bloody emperor isn't wearing any pants."

"And this is a library. No fridge, no milk, not unless you brought some." John offered him a mug anyway. "With my luck it would curdle and gain sentience, and then I'd have to set it free in Special Collections."

"But sometimes it's less like the Emperor's New Clothes, and more like asking a rabbit to explain photosynthesis," Time said. "The jester's not always right. And I suppose I can muddle through without milk."

"How do you know that a rabbit doesn't understand photosynthesis in a manner that matters to the rabbits?" Constantine asked, putting the tea in the strainer and then plopping it in the mug while he rummaged for a second one. Water was almost ready, and there'd be enough for both of them. "Tho if I'd known that all it took to muddle Time was milk -- or the lack of it -- ...I'd have made a fortune."

Time smirked. "I promise, I wouldn't have been that thoroughly muddled," he said. "And you're right, I don't. But I wouldn't go and try to design a planet based on the way they understood it, either."

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