Uptown Girl ● ● ● Claire & MohinderMature

Without a sound, Mohinder watched his new owner work her magic. At first he was doubtful and ready to pounce on the guy if he attempted to get violent. But the doubt soon gave away to curiosity as the scene before him continued. Oh she was good. She was more than good - she was exquisite. To say Mohinder was impressed was an understatement and as soon as she beckoned him over, he stepped up and crossed his arms as dark eyes pierced into the rude man’s soul, figuratively speaking, of course. This particular demon wouldn’t kill someone just for being snobby. Although, he was tempted to give the guy a peek at how his eyes could glow or perhaps how sharp his fangs were. Not wanting to embarrass Claire, he resisted and only gave a bragging smirk.

“As you wish, my lady,” he said in a soft tone with a smile toward Claire before turning to Steven with narrowed eyes and close to clenched teeth. “First, I’m going to need a chai latte to help me relax. Now.”

“Um, we don’t have that here, sir,” he squeaked out, eyes wide and hoping that Claire hadn’t heard any of this.

Mohinder sighed and rubbed down his face in an exhausted manner as his attention turned toward the street outside. “Have you not heard of Starbucks? If I do not have a warm cup in my hand in five minutes, you’ll be working there.”

After looking between Mohinder and the Starbucks sign outside, he nodded. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” And off he went.

As soon as the guy was out of sight, Mohinder gave Claire a big proud smile and thumbs up before making his way over to the right sizes and looking through everything. Even though he attempted to dress more stylish than he had as a human, these were still a bit much. Mohinder wasn’t used to dressing as though he was so important. Now that he thought about it, Claire had managed to make him feel more important in these last few minutes than he had for the longest time. It was a strange thing to think about the person who now owned him, but it was true.

So for her, he would dress his best, and eventually came over to the dressing rooms with an armful of mostly blacks with some darker grays mixed in. The shirts and ties were a little brighter - white, grays, green, and even a light purple. “Which one would you like to see on me first?” After a quick glance between her and the rather spacious dressing room, he added, “And would you care to help me out?” Although his expression was innocent, his question was anything but. “I sadly do not know how to fix a tie,” he added with a casual shrug. It was a convenient truth.

The End

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