irrationally | Ω voidtrecker inbox/side threads

Crowley's eyes roll back in her head, her hand snaking forward to take Aziraphale’s. She squeezes it in an attempt to comfort him.

"Told you he'd worry." she mutters to Alice with a half-smile, then focuses back on Aziraphale with a sigh.

"It's probably nothing, dove. Relax. We're all together and safe..."

There's a similar half-smile on Alice's face at Crowley's comment. It's true, she totally was right on that one - but then again, who knows her dad better than her mom? Those two could predict each other's behaviour in any situation, she'd bet.

"Yes, and you didn't see anything suspicious on the way home, right? I did not see anything at school either, even though they were making such a huge fuss. They are probably just making it seem worse than it really is, for some reason."

Half smiles and all of that, but he isn't so sure he likes the idea of those rumors. Children are meant to be safe at their schools, and he will take no less for his little girl.

"Well...if you think so. But are you sure you didn't hear anything else?"

"Just neighborhood drama... what's new." she answers lazily. "Do you want me to start dinner? I'm sure I can scrounge up something..."

It should be enough to cheer Aziraphale up, anyway. Instead of dwelling on something outside of their control.

Alice gives a slight nod too. She didn't hear anything else either - and when Crowley speaks up, she knows that her mother is definitely doing that to try and keep her dad from worrying.

So she might as well contribute a little as well here, right? If not just in trying to steer away the conversation to something else.

"Right, I am getting slightly hungry as well.. Is there anything you really want to eat, dad?"

He's still rightfully concerned about the news, and he can kind of spot their attempts at a distraction, but Alice is sitting there, safe and sound, and he is quite peckish, so he may well let himself be pulled along.

"Well...I could eat." He answers, reluctantly.

Crowley looks pointedly around the kitchen, inspecting what ingredients await them. "I should have started a roast a lot earlier..." she muses with a sigh, "Time got away from me. I suppose I could always magic it up faster."

She pokes into the pantry and pulls out some vegitables and such, carrying them over to the counter. She huffs, "Martha across the street thinks she makes the best roast in town~" Crowley says, mockingly with a little obnoxious voice toward the end, "Bet she can't whip one up in a half-hour."

A smile appears on Alice's face when she hears her mother start on one of the usual rants, and she leans closer to her father instead, her smile almost turning into a mischievous grin at this point. Like a cat.

"Mom's got a rivalry going on, huh?"

The sort of grin Aziraphale's seen on Crowley's face for years before they ever had Alice. It may cause him nerves sometimes, but it mostly gives him fuzzy feelings of fondness.

"Oh, yes." He answers quietly. "Ever since the two of them have met, she can't stand her. I'm not sure Martha herself is aware of his rivalry."

"Ohh, Martha knows." she hisses, preheating the oven with a snap of her fingers. She begins to prepare a casserole dish, then fetches the meat from the fridge.

"When Alice was in grade school, every bake fair was a blessed competition."

Crowley fetches a knife to begin cutting up vegetables, doing to with heated and thinly-veiled rage. "I know she threw my lemon squares out that year. There is no other explanation."

"Should I ask my current school if they are interested in organizing bake fairs as well, mom?"

Is it teasing? Is she fully serious? Who knows, considering it could be either with Alice's current tone - and with the way she leans over the arm rest for a moment to be able to call out better in the direction of the kitchen.

Though she leans back over to her father afterwards, lowering her tone as she asks him: "Do you think she really knows?"

Look, she trusts his judgement on that a little more, especially considering how heated her mother is becoming over this topic. It might just be one-sided - and imagined two-sided - rivalry!

Aziraphale rolls his eyes as the rant keeps sounding from the kitchen, but there's a great deal of fondness and amusement to the whole thing.

But he knows enough to be quiet and purse his lips when Alice addresses him again, shrugging his shoulders but not doing much to mask the small smile on his face.

"I do suppose someone must be some kind of heathen to throw away perfectly good lemon squares." Is what he actually says, although his tone is not entirely free from certain tones.

"Absolutely not." Crowley responds rather firmly, scooping up any veggies and tossing them in the casserole dish flippantly. "I don't need lemon squares to prove I'm a good parent."

After assembling the rest of the roast, it's popped in the oven for an unreasonably short amount of time. Crowley rests her hands on the counter and sighs, trying to calm herself.

"It's fine... let's just set the table."

That's Alice's cue to get up - considering she's doing so, moving over to help setting the table, especially when her mother is using that tone of all tones. She's grabbing the plates from a cupboard, holding them in her arms, but then turns towards Crowley for a moment.

"Mom.. It's okay. You know we love you, right?"

She figures she can easily use that 'we', considering there's not a doubt about whether her parents love each other. It's entirely obvious.

Momentarily saved from the frustration of watching people fussing about barely eloquent quips thrown rudely at each other as a means of distraction from the somewhat interesting dishes they are supposedly preparing (which he takes several mental notes about), he gets off the couch and steps into the question to help - with his wife's disposition, first.

"Dearest, you know she can't hold a candle to anything you do." He approaches her, resting his hands on her shoulders and leaning in to kiss her cheek. "And your lemon squares are the best in town."

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