Ineffably Yours

Litha

TW: OCD, anxiety, OCD attack of guilt, explicit language

"D'you think she'll like it?" asked Jenna, frowning uncertainly at the potted sunflower in her lap. 

Crowley glanced at her and grinned, then returned his gaze to the road. "For the millionth time, yes," he replied, chuckling as they sped past Soho pedestrians in his Bentley, "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" playing furtively in the background. "Anathema loves flowers, and what better way to honor the summer solstice than by gifting her one from your indoor garden?"

"Ugh, we should have got her the antique sundial," Jenna groaned as though he hadn't spoken, shaking her head despondently. "It was perfect! Old, ancient ruins carved on the sides, big but not so big that it's like, 'What the hell am I gonna do with this stupid thing?'--"

"They already have enough sundials to kill someone," Crowley reassured her, giving her a meaningful look and leaning toward her slightly. "The last thing they needed was one more--"

"They have a lot of flowers too," mumbled Jenna, crossing her arms and pouting. She and Crowley glanced back and forth at each other a few times before grinning and breaking down into giggles simultaneously. "Ugh, I'm sorry I'm being crazy," she chuckled, kissing Crowley's cheek. "You're right, the plant was a good choice. I'll shut up about it now." 

Crowley rolled his eyes and began massaging her neck gently with his left hand. "You're not crazy, love," he corrected her softly, glancing from the road into her blushing face. "You're just anxious. Anything I can do to help?" 

Jenna smiled lovingly at her boyfriend. "Thanks, sweetie. Your massages always help," she sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the headrest as Crowley's nimble fingers kneaded her tense shoulders and neck. 

Crowley gazed at her affectionately, savoring the sight of her enjoying his touch. "Well, I did train under Galen in first century BCE, after all--"

"Yes, yes, you've led such a fascinating life," Jenna replied wryly, smirking and crossing her arms and legs. "Learned massage therapy from the first Roman physician to use it, carpentry from Jesus Christ, painting from da Vinci, how to play the friggin' kazoo from--what's his name again?--Kentucky--"

"Alabama Vest," chuckled the demon. "Why do you always think it's "Kentucky" something?"

".......Probably cuz they both start with 'K...'"

"Fair." 

Jenna and Crowley smiled at each other very luvey-dovey, kissed chastely then returned to their respective duties: admiring the Tadfield countryside and navigating to Jasmine Cottage without hitting anything alive. After a few moments of blissful silence, Jenna frowned, glanced at Crowley and said, "Did you say Newt and Anathema have enough sundials to, quote, "kill someone," unquote?"

The demon reflected on her question, then stated confidently. "I did, yes."

"Mmm," Jenna nodded nonchalantly at some cows and sheep grazing in a lush viridian field. "Just making sure." Too preoccupied with the bovine animals to notice, Jenna missed Crowley staring at her in admiration and longing for a solid 15 seconds in response to her statement. She suspected something of that nature had occurred, however, when the Bentley veered so dangerously close to barbed wire on the road's left side that Crowley let out a hiss usually reserved for perfume salesmen in malls and swerved like a drunken man before evening out on the road, clearing his throat and commenting on the weather as though nothing had happened. 

~

"Jenna! Crowley! I'm so glad you both came!" cried Anathema Device-Pulsifer, enveloping the former in a warm hug and flashing the latter a friendly grin.