Daughter Dearest

twenty-one

“Can we go out for my birthday?”

The question caught Venus off guard as she sipped on the coffee that Vaggie had forced unto her hand. She nearly choked, but swallowed quickly before it could go south. 

“What?” She questioned, baffled, setting the pink mug that said ‘fresh outta fucks’ down onto the coffee table. 

“I mean — I know Mr. Stark and everyone else took me out on my birthday, but it felt weird celebrating without you there, even though you called. . . So, I was wondering if we could all go out.” Peter replied, placing two of his newly acquired hands on his hips. 

It had been two days since she had handed out the disguises and she had been dragged onto four runs that she ended up leading, a shopping trip, two lunch dates, and forced to take everyone out on a massive tour of Pentagram City. 

She thanked the gods that none of them had any real interest in Imp City. . . Venus had heard some sketchy things about some of the inhabitants, just from little news stories on Sinstagram. 

Still, Venus wondered why he felt the need to ask. If he wanted it, it was his. 

“Of course we can.” She replied, standing and gently taking two of his hands in her own. “Anywhere you want to go, we will go, just give me a time and place, my dear.” 

Peter thought for a moment before his eyes lit up and his request tumbled out of his mouth. “Uncle Angel Dust mentioned a new club on the edge of the ‘entertainment district’. . . It's not really my scene, but it would be cool as a one time thing!” 

She knew what club he was referencing — Temptation. It was most definitely new. . . In the sense that opening night was the following evening. 

“That's fine with me, my dear. . . I'll see who would like to go. . . I suspect Banner won't be a fan, however he may surprise me.” 

Peter instantly became excited at her words, hugging her tightly with a ‘thank you’ before running off. 

Venus picked up her coffee once more, but didn't return to her seat. Rather, she walked towards the kitchen, sipping on the warm beverage that was ungracefully approaching room temperature. 

Reaching the door, she pushed it open gently, only to find Sam with his head in the refrigerator clearly looking over the lack of ingredients that became a recent situation. 

The door swung closed behind her with a creak, the ceramic mug being placed on the counter with a sound somewhere between a thud and a clink. “What are you doing?” 

Her voice held a certain degree of questioning as Sam turned to face her, closing the refrigerator door behind him. 

“Looking. My night to cook and there's nothing to cook. When's the last time anyone went grocery shopping?” He inquired, watching the Asgardian Princess mentally go over who had gone shopping in the last month. 

It was a short list: her, Angel, and Vaggie. 

The only time Alastor shopped was if he was cooking, which had been all of twice since Venus's arrival at the hotel. 

“I can take you shopping — matter of fact, you write down your list while I take care of something quickly, then we will go, alright? List. Now.” 

“Okay. . .”

Confused by her sudden eagerness to handle whatever it was she had to do, Sam grabbed the notepad and pen from the counter and began writing a list from memory. . . 

Venus swiftly exited the room, practically running up the stairs to get to the elevator. She had a plan. A quick plan, but a plan nonetheless. 

The contraption dinged, letting her out on the very top floor once again. Knocking on the door using the special knock she had taught Charlie to indicate her presence; knock, knock knock, knock — she heard the familiar click of the door unlocking before she was able to enter.