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[exserpens.livejournal.com]

Characters: Henrietta (fireintothesky ) and Crowley (exserpens )
Time: Shortly after the revelation that Henrietta is now a foul-mouthed teenager and Crowley is apparently her father :|
Location: The Bentley, eventually the Ritz
Summary: Crowley promised Henrietta dinner at the Ritz, and he's hoping to learn a bit more about the situation he's somehow found himself a part of. Henrietta, meanwhile, is probably going to try to pull a fast one on him somehow. Because she's a teenage girl, and she's a lot like her "father."
Warnings: Language, maybe? Not much else.

It was just as he'd suspected. Under ordinary circumstances Henrietta had her own room in the flat; it'd been one of those things that had come about during the move from Mayfair to Knightsbridge. During the girl's visits to his corner of their shared reality she had her own little space, her own things, and Crowley was generally fine with that. (Really, no one else ever bothered to stop by, so it wasn't as if he'd had to suffer snickering or joking about being "domesticated" or some such rubbish.)

And yet, as he'd predicted, somehow in the space of less than an hour his reality had undergone a shift. The flat was now quite obviously occupied by two people on a regular basis, and everywhere he looked he saw the tell-tale signs of a teenage girl in residence.

Thankfully before he had too much of a chance to roam around and gape at the changes it was time to go, and he and Henrietta piled into the Bentley. Even the buckets of snow in his own version of things couldn't shift his mood away from utter and complete shock, with a slight touch of helplessness. 

Averting the Apocalypse had been one thing. But raising someone?

That was scary. 

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[fireintothesky.livejournal.com]

She leaned her head against the window, eying her dad as they drove. All plans to exploit this new situation aside, she was worried. She always worried about him, demon or not, 'business partner' or no.

Briefly, horrifyingly, the idea that having that woman around to take care of him drifted through her mind.

"UAOGH." Henrietta jerked away from the window and wriggled her pinkies in both ears. "Augh, ugh, blegh."

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

Mercifully, Crowley had no way of reading that thought from Henrietta or he probably would have had about the same reaction as the girl (not to mention a touch of indignation at the idea he needed taking care of). As it was, he glanced over to her side of the car, looking at her as though she'd gone completely off her rocker.

"Everything all right over there?"

He wished, more than anything, that Aziraphale were with them. Whisking Henrietta away from the Agency to stay in the flat for a week or three was one thing, suddenly being told he's responsible for her entire upbringing was entirely another.

[fireintothesky.livejournal.com]

"Fine. Just thought of something nasty."

She rested her head against the window again, glancing at Crowley to see if he was watching before wiping her pinkies on the seat. Earwax. Yuck.

"Why didn't you call Az? Ask him if he wanted to come?"

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

....

The thought of making the teenager clean the seats in the Bentley crossed Crowley's mind briefly before he decided against it, because the car would have been dirty for far too long by that point. Instead he shot a "we are not amused" glare at Henrietta and took a hand off the wheel long enough to snap his fingers.

There, good as new.

If only he could fix his current situation—or Hell, the situation with Aziraphale—quite so easily.

"I don't very well need the angel holding my hand just to have a chat with you, do I?"