Ineffable (Crowley x female OC)

In which Crowley Explains Things Poorly

"Is she okay? She's still breathing, right? Make sure she's breathing!"

"Of course she's breathing, you idiot! Can't you feel that she's alive? Besides, I checked her pulse five seconds ago."

"I can't trust any of my instincts anymore! How in the HELL did I not know that Hastur and four of his cronies snuck into my flat until it was too late?! Or that she was in trouble?! HOW THE FUCK DIDN'T I KNOW THAT SHE WAS BEING ATTACKED BY HELL'S WORST DEMONS?!"

"Crowley, shhhh! You'll wake her up!"

Jenna groaned and slowly opened her eyes. She was laying on something soft, staring up at a white ceiling. Upon closer inspection, it was a wide ivory couch facing a pair of elegant French doors that opened onto a sunny balcony overlooking a bustling city. She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up, stretching her long arms and cracking her knuckles out of habit.

"Wait, what?" She stared at her arms and legs. "What the hell happened to the scratches...?" Her tanned skin looked as smooth and intact as it did before she was attacked.

Jenna heard male voices from the other room again, although much quieter than a minute ago.

"Fine, fine! You go out, I'll keep an eye on things! Geez!" The door opened and Crowley swaggered out, brushing back his long hair and heading for the balcony. Jenna watched him step outside, look around carefully and shut the doors with a soft click. He turned around and froze when he saw Jenna sitting up.

"Oh," he mumbled. "Sorry, I thought you were still....uh...not awake." He spoke haltingly and tentatively, as if choosing his words carefully.

"No, it's fine," said Jenna, shaking her head. "I just woke up like a minute ago, so you were almost right." She smiled shyly, not sure what else to do.

Crowley laughed weakly, then cleared his throat and looked away. "Uh, Ang-Aziraphale had to step out for a moment," he said in a rather high pitched tone, gesturing vaguely at the windows. "He'll be back in a bit, he's just, uh, looking for......something," he finished lamely.

"Oh, okay," said Jenna. "Thanks. Um, I hate that I need to ask this, but, among other things, where are we?"

"Right!" exclaimed Crowley, slapping his forehead with his hand. "Sorry, I'm such a tosser! Yes, we are in Aziraphale's, um, flat." He bit his lip and fiddled with his tie.

Jenna stared at his face, still largely obscured by those stupid sunglasses. How was she supposed to infer what he was thinking or feeling if she couldn't see his eyes?

"I thought Zira lived above his bookshop," she said, narrowing her eyes slightly.

Crowley audibly gulped. "Ah yes, well, he does, most of the time. This is his, uh, other....flat..."

"Where are we, Crowley?" she repeated firmly.

Crowley looked at Jenna with the same odd expression as before, after he told Zira to take Jenna and run, then sighed in defeat and sat down on a nearby armchair facing the couch. "Well, technically," he admitted nervously, "we are at one of Aziraphale's flats, in *Switzerland* specifically, but it's completely safe and actually quite comfortable, according to Aziraphale." He mumbled the bit about Switzerland and rushed through the rest.

Jenna blinked. "Switzerland," she deadpanned.

Crowley gulped nervously again. "Yep," he said after a pause, trying and failing to sound light-hearted. "Angel said you'd never been, so he figured you'd enjoy-"

"What time is it?" Jenna interrupted him.

Crowley blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"What time is it," she repeated, starting to feel irritated.