Chapter Text
Jenny always considered herself a career woman. If you had asked her a decade ago where she would see herself now, she would answer something akin to being middle management in some office in central London, wearing office attire and a strict bun day in, day out.
Yet here she was, happy as can be, living a life she had never dreamed of having. She was content living with her husband and small gang of children in a small town in the south downs. She is her own boss, running her little garden supply shop. She is active in her community and has made a decent group of friends, though not all of them are decent.
It was not always this idyllic for Jenny. The town being so close knit, it had not always been forthcoming or accepting. She had struggled in the first year of moving and nearly had to return to the city with her tail between her legs and her family in tow. Now everything has improved, and she and her family are part of the community as though they had always been there.
Jenny was living the dream most days, today not being one of them. The council parish was planning a large harvest festival. The town was very proud of the fact that it still produces over thirty percent of its own produce, thanks to Farmer Dan and his like. The meeting itself had been far too long and too boring for Jenny’s liking, but what really made her anxious was leaving the kids behind with a young girl who herself is not really equipped to be looking after them this late in the evening.
It was fine to ask young Emily to look after the kids a few times a month; they paid her well, and they never leave them too late. However, the weeks leading up to the town festival would demand their evenings for the next couple weeks.
“What’s got you all.. frowny?” The redheaded man lulled at Jenny the morning after the council meeting. Crowley had come for fertilizers for his winter garden.
While Jenny was not overly cheerful generally, she was friendly enough for a bit of banter. To Crowley’s disappointment, he was met with apathetic replies and a very distracted friend. He thought about whether he could really call her a friend? Demons don’t have friends, but then again, neither do they have angel husbands waiting for them in their vintage cars.
“I’m fine, just the bloody council meetings going on forever last night.” She explains. The meeting had gone until almost eleven thirty at night, and Jenny had felt so guilty getting Emily home so late on a school night.
Emily’s mum had been gracious enough but definitely not pleased. She had given Jenny a court. “Don’t worry yourself, lov; we’ve all had youngin’s once.” Then closed the door without saying as much as a good-bye.
“Ah,” Crowley had answered. He did not really care for council meetings, but Aziraphale had advised him to have conversations outside of plants with Jenny if he wanted their friendship to go past her gardening shop.
“So the meeting was tiring, I gather.” Crowley continued on awkwardly.
Jenny was rather touched by Crowley’s pretend interest. She had felt as though he had been a tough nut to crack. She wanted their friendship to go past plant talk and banter but never felt comfortable burdening him with real-life issues.
“It’s not so much the meeting itself; granted, it nearly put me to sleep. It's just that I haven’t got anyone to watch the kids that late at night. Most folks around here have kids old enough to mind themselves, and all my friends are in these bloody parish meetings.”
“Not all of them.” Crowley muttered without having given it much thought.
“Would you?” Jenny started incredulously. “Would you really watch my kids for me?” Jenny had asked. She had not really given it thought either. Crowley had not seemed child-friendly to her. Then again, appearances are often just that, merely an appearance. Didn’t he say he had been a live-in nanny at some point?
“Err,” Crowley was slightly panicking. Watching Warlock had been a bit of a challenge, and he had a good track record with kids in general, but unlike Mrs. Dowling, Jenny was his friend, and if something happened to her kids on his watch, it would be not good.
"Oh, please, Crowley! I will pay you, obviously. You can bring Mr. Fell too.” She pleaded, pushing down any worry she might have about leaving her kids with a man who she only knew on a surface level.
“I suppose I could...” Crowley started but was interrupted by Jenny loudly clasping her hands together and giving a bright smile. In that moment, she reminded him of Aziraphale, which made him soften towards her a bit more.
“Listen, don’t pay me... and DON’T thank me either. How old are the kids?” Crowley asked sternly.
“five, seven, and ten.” Jenny beamed. It's as though a rock had been lifted from her chest.
Not long after Crowley left her shop with his goods in hand did Jenny question her decision. She did not know this man well, and while he generally seems benign, she was not sure he was the right choice to look after her children. She remembered thinking that his Nanny quip had been a hilarious joke to cover up a dubious past.
The evening of the next council meeting, Jenny had managed to work herself into a frenzy.
“It’s fine, darling. He won’t do anything wrong, plus he’s bringing that husband of his. He is sensible and probably better with kids.” Craig had whispered into Jenny’s hairline with an arm wrapped around her shoulder.
“It’s not just Crowley I am worried about. What if the kids do their usual nonsense and he thinks I am a terrible mum who raised a bunch of animals?" She said anxiously.
“Oh god, I sound like such an arsehole, don’t I. I do trust Crowley and the kids, but what if something disastrous happens?”
The worried mum’s tirade was interrupted by a ring at their door.
"See, darling, he’s on time. That means he’s dependable; it will all be alright.” Craig assured his wife but also himself.
“Oh Crowley, thanks again for watching the youngin’s. Where’s Mr. Fell?" She asked, looking back at the car, expecting the dapper man to step out.
“Ah, Mr. Fell’s not one for the younger ones. I mean, he doesn’t mind kids; he likes them just... well, from far away.” Crowley drawled and overexplained.
"Oh,” Jenny gave a nervous laugh. She explained that in any case of emergency, all relevant numbers are on the fridge, and if anything happened at all, to let her know. She also warned Crowley that her children are generally well behaved but can be rowdy.
“And if they give you any trouble, you call!” She called after him while being practically dragged out of the house by her husband.
“ Right!” Crolwey clasped his hands determinedly. “Who is ready for some sensible demonic fun?” He smiled wickedly at the three children, who smiled wickedly back from the sitting room.
Crowley had a good time with the children. He fed them, tired them out, and got them to sleep on time sans miracles. He had a gift when it came to handling children. They had been a handful and a bit mischievous. The benefit of being a former demon is that rather than being annoyed at their antics, he managed to give them credit for their creativity. Mutual respect was established quickly, and the children ceased to be a pain soon after.
After having gotten the children to sleep, he tided up a bit; for this, he did indulge in a few miracles. Another half hour later, Jenny and Craig returned, exhausted, mildly irritated, and anxious.
Crowley was sitting on the sofa, phone in hand. The house was mostly dark except for a lamp lit on a mantel next to the demon.
“Where are the kids?” Jenny asked hurriedly. It was the first and only thing on her mind; she had even forgotten to thank Crowley and give him credit for all he’s managed to do.
“Upstairs asleep. Homework’s done, teeth are brushed, and bums are washed.” Crowley answered lazily.
“And you had time to tidy?” Jenny was amazed. She was relieved and could not thank Crowley enough for his help.