Title: It's Nature's Fault

Genre: Harry Potter, Post-DH/Epilogue

Rating: PG14

Pairing: Dean/Luna mentioned, Dean/Seamus

Summary: Dean and Seamus never thought they would ever have to go shopping for lady's unmentionables—that is until Dean's daughter started puberty. Part of the Turquoise-'verse in the Daughter of Mine mini-stories. Sequel to 'Neither Do Storks or Cabbage Patches'.

--

"DEAN!"

"Seamus."

"… You CAN'T be serious."

"Seamus."

"Nuh-uh. NO."

"…"

"…Damnit."

--

Abby Thomas crossed her arms and waited patiently for her dad and 'mum' to enter the shop.

Dean lips thinned and he stiffly walked over to stand next to his daughter. Abby grinned at him.

The father and daughter both turned to look at Seamus, whom was still wavering at the entrance. He was trying not to appear to be even thinking about going in, but it was obvious as he stood shuffled back and forth next to the door.

"Mum, get yer arse over here." Abby snorted.

Seamus stomped his foot just like a toddler losing his temper, "Stop calling me that!"

"Then stop acting like a girl, you big ponce." Dean laughed at Seamus's expense.

Seamus muttered something under his breath, than quickly scuttered over to join the other two.

"See, not so hard, Mum." The little caramel-skinned girl grinned, patting Seamus's arm in a semi-comforting fashion.

"Watch it dearie. Don't forget it's yer fault we're here." Seamus grumbled.

"Naw, its nature's fault we're here." Abby waved off the insult. "And my Mother's" She added after a moment's thought.

Dean traded a look with Seamus, who huffed but remained silent. They had agreed a long time ago to not bring up that old argument when Abby was within hearing.

Dean thought that it was perfectly fine if Luna wanted to visit her daughter, after all, a female presence was probably good for little Abby. However, Seamus insisted that Luna had abandoned Abby to them a long time ago and so didn't have the right to be a part of Abby's growth.

Luckily, Luna had been away for a long time, traveling all over the world, and they had never had to make a real decision on the matter. True, Luna sent letters and trinkets by owl for Abby, but Seamus had grudgingly agreed that was alright as long as Luna wasn't trying to lure Abby to the dangerous places Luna visited.

Abby hummed to herself, wandering further into the shop and forcing Dean and Seamus to follow.

"Well, this part isn't so bad." Seamus scowled at the dresses and trousers hanging on racks that they passed.

"Just grit your teeth and deal, Messer Mum." Dean rolled his eyes, patting Seamus on the shoulder.

Seamus grunted in reply and followed Dean and Dean's daughter through the store.

Abby looked one way, than the other, "Erm… You guys don't happen to know where they are, do you?"

She turned and looked at the two men she claimed as family.

"Well, you don't have to look like that." Abby's lips curled in a teasing smirk at her matching horrified expressions.

Dean shook his head firmly in answer, but Seamus only twitched in utter terror.

Abby threw her arms into the air with a fond grumble, "Men."

The store was a Muggle one, so they couldn't use a pointing spell, or some other charm to find the location of what they were seeking. Instead, Abby padded over to one of the help desks and requested directions. Her two guardians slunk after her as the little girl moved deeper into the mass of racks and shelves.

"Here we go!" Abby frowned slightly at the shelves, but brightened at Dean and Seamus's obvious embarrassment. "Heh."

--

"You are one evil little blighter." Seamus scowled.

"How 'bout this one?" Abby held up a lacy contraption.

Dean made a noise similar to that of a stabbed Hippogriff.

Seamus scowled deeper. "It's… very pink."

The pre-teen girl's shinning blue eyes danced in mirth. "You like it then?"

"No daughter of mine," Dean growled, "Will be wearing such a… a…" He sputtered incoherently, looking ready to tear out his hair (regardless of the fact it was shaved nearly to his skull).

Abby grinned, looking rather like the cat that had eaten the canary. "And this one?" Another lacy contraption, this one had barely any fabric to it and what was there was see-through.

Seamus ran a hand down his face. He probably should have passed out from the sheer amount of blood rushing to his face. Surely his whole head was the color of a beet by now. "No." he said firmly, "Never."

Dean clawed weakly at his eyes.

Pushing the sandy fringe out of his face, Seamus sighed deeply. "Can you be serious now?"

The caramel-colored girl shrugged, "Sure, anything you say, Mum."

Eyes appealing to the heavens, the Irish man groaned, "Stop calling me that."

Abby just smiled. She had been calling him that for years now. Her attack on his masculinity wasn't about to stop anytime soon.

Surely it couldn't get any worse.

No wait. It could.

"Can I help you boys with anything?" A well-rounded woman in narrow glasses glanced at the two of them, seeming to size them up.

Dean just moaned a sound of pure agony.

Seamus continued to scowl and made vague gestures with his hands.

"You know we have men's sizes." She pursed her lips as she said this then smiled knowingly.

That got both of their attentions. They traded looks of objective horror then turned back to the store clerk.

"Not for us," Seamus managed to croak.

"For her," Dean waved a hand at Abby, who was watching the exchange with vague smile unnervingly reminding of her mother.

"Ah, of course," The woman raised a brow as her eyes darted between the two of them then to Abby, who was obviously related to Dean. "Your niece?"

Dean shook his head with a motion exhausted from the constant horror at the situation he was in. "Daughter," he corrected.

"Right," She shrugged, her eyes still darting between them. "What size is she?"

Abby took that moment to wander closer, drawing the scary lady's attention away from the two men. "I dunno. It's my first one."

The store clerk nodded sharply, sizing her up with an experienced eye. The woman quickly snatched a few of the garments off the shelves and gestured for the girl to follow.

Seamus sighed and strode over, grabbing Dean's shirt and dragging him after Abby, who had disappeared with the woman into a back room.

--

The two men sat on small benches by a rack piled with unmentionable garments. Seamus absentmindedly rubbed his cheek, which was still red from the store clerk's hand.

"It should be obvious we don't want our girl wandering into dark back rooms with strangers." Seamus grumbled, "Plus, that place should have a warning sign."

Dean perched his head on his hand, leaning his elbow on his knee. "It does. It's large and pink, and says 'Woman's Changing Room' in large black letters." He shrugged lazily at the huge sign on the door to the fitting rooms.

Seamus snorted and scowled at the wall. They both avoided looking at the rack of items that had been discarded after used in the fitting room. Instead they both stared off in opposite directions at the wall or floor nearby.

"Dad!" Dean's head jerked up to stare at Abby, who twirled around. "Like it?"

Dean quickly clapped a hand over his face. "My eyes," he groaned weakly.

"Shay!" Abby called. Seamus grunted in response but didn't turn. "Seamus." Still nothing. "MUM!"

"WHAT?" Seamus snarled and whipped his head around; forgetting what he knew what would be there.

"Funny, that's the one that gets yer attention." Little Abby, only just starting to become lanky from puberty, but already having lost a lot of her baby fat, was modeling her new bra in a pair of jeans. She whirled around, and snapped one of the straps on her shoulder.

Seamus made a choking sound and snapped his eyes shut, swearing fluently in Irish until Dean cuffed the back of his head.

"Put yer bloody shirt on, Ab. We don't wanna see yer lady parts." Seamus held his eyes tightly shut, wondering if there was a spell to burn images out of one's eyes.

"Alright. S'back on." The two men reluctantly opened their eyes.

"Abellona Thomas, as your father I forbid you from ever wearing anything but a sweater from now on." Dean said firmly, handing Abby her sweater, a deep blue colored thing with an 'A' on the front, obviously a present from the Weasley family, to put on over her t-shirt.

"I concur." Seamus patted Dean on the back, avoiding Abby's Glare of Death. It was always unnerving to see Luna's bright eyes focused and glaring in a face that looked so much like Dean's.

The store clerk stepped out from the back room, with a handful of bras, all plain but fitting bras for a pre-teen girl who was bound to grow further within the year. Her eyes behind the narrow eyes darted again from Seamus to Dean, before resting on Seamus's hand on Dean's back. Her lips quirked slightly at the corners. "Let's get all of these rung up."

--

"Dean?"

"Yep, Mum?"

"Don't you call me that too."

"Heheh. No worries, I won't make it a habit."

"Good. …Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I think that clerk thought we were… yanno."

"…Yeah, I got that impression too."

"Do we come off as poofers?"

"…I'm an artist. We have a bad habit of coming off as poofers."

"No offense, but I don't like coming off as a ponce."

"None taken, I don't really enjoy that either."

--

Alternate Ending:

"Dean?"

"Yep, Mum?"

"Don't you call me that too."

"Heheh. No worries, I won't make it a habit."

"Good. …Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I think that clerk knew."

"Well it's not everyday that a father brings along another man to help his daughter pick out bras."

"…True, I guess."

"So what are we going to do once we drop Abby off at her friend's house for that sleepover?"

"What do you think, you great ponce?"

"Takes one to know one."

"Of course."