This was mostly written before Season 7 started airing. The reason it took so long to be posted was that I've been really busy with university and so not had time to edit it etc. Hope you can all recall the hopes and expectations we had for God!Cas at the end of Season 6! And also Traitors and Partners as this is the sequel to that.
Partners and Lovers
Act 1
Five minutes before the clock strikes midnight, Castiel appears in Crowley's living room.
"I was wondering when you'd show up," Crowley says as he snaps his fingers, switching the television onto standby.
Castiel remains motionless as he stares at Crowley. The demon stares right back, taking in all the unchanged details of the former angel's appearance. He notices that Cas' eyes linger on his new suit, and he can't help but smile.
"Your tailor is a genius; I'd retain his services if I were you."
Castiel's eyes return briefly to his face before shifting to the table beside him. Crowley guesses that he's searching for some sign that he has been drinking. His grin grows knowing that the former angel will find none. Crowley has cleaned up his act since they last met. He has given up the unhealthy habit of devouring a bottle of cheap alcohol every night, and no longer looks like he was dragged through a bush backwards by a couple of Hellhounds. He is once again the pinnacle of sophistication and style.
"Can I offer you a drink?" Crowley asks as he rises to his feet.
Castiel's head tilts to the side as he considers the offer. "Yes."
Crowley hurriedly turns and heads for the cupboard where he keeps the good wine so that Cas will not see his smirk. If the new God is willing to drink with him it means he didn't imagine Castiel's parting word to him the last time they met. Darling. The almighty former Angel of the Lord had called him darling.
The King of Hell can sense the winds of change swirling in the room, and he likes the direction they're blowing.
Still grinning, Crowley selects one of his favourite bottles of red wine and pours two glasses. He then returns nonchalantly to Castiel's side and proffers one to him. "I apologize that it's not had time to breathe, but I wasn't expecting company."
Castiel accepts the glass and sniffs it. Crowley watches with amusement as the former angel carefully sips the wine, prompting a contemplative frown. After a moment Castiel's lips twitch into what Crowley interprets as a smile. "It is good," he pronounces like the God he claims to be.
"I should bloody well hope so. One bottle cost me $3,000."
Castiel tilts his head, a confused look shadowing his features. Crowley briefly wonders if he understands currency, if the Winchesters taught him what price was a bargain and what was practically extortion. He doubts that they did. After all, what use is money to an angel?
"Anyway, now that the pleasantries are over, shall we get down to business?" Crowley looks meaningfully at Cas. "You did come here to talk business didn't you?"
Castiel nods, his expression serious and professional. "I believe it is time to renegotiate your contract." He pauses, possibly for dramatic effect. "You will still obey me without question, but I am willing to allow you to speak freely in private. When we are not alone you will treat me with respect and reverence. You will defer to me and not question my decisions. When you speak of me to others you will be respectful. In return you will retain your position as ruler of Hell and I will offer you protection and support in your endeavours. These are my new terms."
Crowley's lips purse with displeasure. He isn't sure whether Cas is being a tease or just bloody insolent. Or, more worryingly, Crowley has misinterpreted the signs and Castiel still regards him with the same contempt he always has. If that is the case, then challenging the status quo would almost certainly be detrimental to Crowley's health. It is time for him to make a choice: he can either speak out against this highly insulting set of stipulations and risk meeting a very sticky end, or he can once again bend over and take it in order to honour his code of self-preservation.
In the end, it is the King of Hell's inability to let an opportunity sail by that wins. "Firstly, Darling, these new provisos aren't really all that different from the originals. Secondly, I think I have a much better set of terms that will satisfy both of us."
Castiel scowls, annoyed but not particularly angry. "What do you suggest?"
"We operate as partners. I watch your back, you watch mine. I remain king of Hell and design my own policies based on your specifications. We work together and support each other against our enemies. I get to talk to you how I like in private and in public. Everyone already knows there's a reason your name comes first on the stationary, and it isn't because we're following the alphabet. Me following my nature and calling you Darling isn't going to make anyone think any less of you, so why don't you give a demon a break and at least let me appear something of an equal instead of just another arse-kisser?"
After a moment of contemplation, Castiel carefully articulates, "You wish for us to be partners, but I would be the lead partner. I would be the one to ultimately make decisions and you would willingly follow them."
"Willingly isn't the word I'd use, but yes, I will still do as you command. I'll just be doing it in a way that better suits my position as king."
Castiel tilts his head and scrutinizes Crowley carefully. "These are all quite reasonable demands."
Crowley grins. "Baby steps Cas. My demands for power and an equal say in decisions can come later. For now I'm more than happy with the ability to once again disagree with you without having to worry that you'll implode me."
Again, Castiel's lips twitch into what Crowley interprets as a smile. "Very well. Your terms are reasonable and you have earned a right to demand them. From now on this will be your new contract."
Relief spreads through Crowley. His gamble has paid off. He is still alive.
He is also curious as to how serious Castiel's Darling comment was.
A leer spreads across Crowley's lips as he asks, "Are we going to seal the deal with a kiss?"
The King of Hell is pleasantly surprised when a smouldering heat enters the new God's eyes. "Yes."
Crowley's leer grows as he plucks the wine glass from Castiel's hand and sets it down carefully on a nearby table along with his own. He then turns back to Cas and says, "Pucker up Gorgeous."
Crowley threads his fingers into the former angel's hair as he pulls Cas down into the kiss. For a few seconds that is the only contact between them; then Castiel places one hand at the base of Crowley's skull, effectively preventing his escape, and encircles the demon's waist with his free arm so that their bodies are crushed together. Crowley's gasp of surprise is smothered by the hot and hungry kisses being pressed against his mouth as Cas easily manoeuvres him backwards into a wall. The contact with the unyielding surface causes Crowley to flash back to the last time he was in a similar position with Castiel. Back then, in the warehouse that reeked of the blood of monsters, Cas had threatened him and told him to leave the Winchesters alone. Back then, anger instead of lust had led them into this position. Oh how times had changed.
When Castiel ends his assault, Crowley is breathless. Desire burns hot inside him, and he is overjoyed to see the emotion mirrored in the former angel's eyes.
"Well, you're just full of surprises tonight aren't you Castiel?" Crowley pants, his eyes remaining locked with the former angel's.
"Don't speak," the new God growls. "Take me to your bed chamber."
"You charmer," Crowley teases. Then, just to make sure that they are on the same page, he asks, "Are you sure you want to lose your virginity to a demon?"
"I am sure."
Having no need for further confirmation, Crowley teleports them to the bedroom for what promises to be a night of sinful fun for both of them.
Act 2
"Long time no see Bobby."
From behind his desk Bobby snorts and mutters, "Not long enough if you ask me."
"Now Robert, is that any way to treat a guest, especially when you were the one who summoned them?" Crowley asks with a smirk. He is tempted to walk into the room so that he can more easily exchange quips with the Hunter, but he is sure that the room is full of Devils' Traps, so he remains stationary.
"I only summoned you, you forked tongued bastard, because I'm running low on options."
A new light appears in Crowley's eyes and he involuntarily takes a step forward. "Did you call to make a deal?"
"Do I look like an idjit? Last time we made a deal you said you'd return my soul and then went back on your word."
"Actually, I said I'd make my best efforts to return your soul. And you did get it back in the end."
"Yeah, after I threatened to burn your bones."
Crowley smiles genially. "Bobby, if I can move past you trying to kill me, surely you can move past me retaining your soul for longer than you anticipated."
"Bite me."
"I'd love to mate, but I don't think my new partner would approve; he gives off a very monogamous vibe."
Bobby scowls. "Your new partner?"
Crowley smiles lazily as he leans back against the wall. "Yes, I have a new partner. You might have heard of him. Goes by the name of Castiel – or God, depending on who you talk to."
"Cas is working with you?"
Crowley notes that Bobby is indignant, but not surprised. "Naturally. He doesn't want to dirty his hands organising Hell so he needs someone he can rely on to get the job done."
"And that person is you?" Bobby asks sceptically.
"Better to work with the Devil you know than take a chance and find out later on that you've backed one of Lucifer's supporters."
Bobby grunts, conceding the point. "I still don't get why he doesn't just destroy all you demons now that he's supposedly God."
Crowley sighs and shakes his head sadly. "Humans – they never see the bigger picture."
"Why don't you enlighten me then?"
Crowley resists the temptation to smirk. He does, on occasion, love to have an audience. "Demons are, to put it crudely, sinners. They're people who go to Hell for doing bad things. And since a lot of the human race just can't stop themselves from acting in a way that automatically buys them a one-way ticket to the Pit, the population of Hell increases exponentially each year. Now, not all of these poor souls become demons – but a good proportion of them do. So our race is constantly multiplying, especially since you consider the fact that we only die when a Hunter or an Angel actually makes the effort to kill us. Death is not a natural population stabiliser like it is for humans. So, basically, there are a lot of us – and our numbers keep growing. The reason they keep growing? Because humans are always going to sin. The only way to stop them is to take away their free will. And there you have the answer to your question."
"I do?"
"Yes Bobby, you do. Our new God is very big on free will, which means he's not going to force people to stop sinning. It also means that there's no point destroying demons. What happens if there are no demons to control the new souls when they get to Hell? Chaos. Not to mention a fight for power. And when the victor emerges and Cas destroys them, the process begins again. After a few cycles I'm sure the whole affair would be very tedious and unnecessarily time-consuming for a busy God. In the end, it's much more practical to let demons order their own affairs and turn up every-so-often for a quick inspection."
"So you're the nanny that makes sure all the unruly demon brats behave."
Crowley forces a smile. "I prefer to think of myself as CEO and Castiel as my board of directors."
"I'm sure you do."
Crowley frowns, not liking Bobby's tone. "This conversation is getting tedious. Either tell me what you summoned me for or I'm leaving."
"Alright, don't get your panties in a twist. I summoned you to ask if you knew what Cas' end game is."
"Sorry, afraid not."
"I thought you two were partners?"
"We are, but that doesn't mean I'm privy to his most secret thoughts and plans. After being betrayed by his so-called friends he holds his cards close to his chest."
"So you're not really partners – you're just an underling with a superiority complex."
"I'd be careful if I were you Bobby," Crowley warns. "I'm still the King of Hell and I could make your life very miserable if I was so inclined. You don't want a load of demons wandering around your little town possessing people left right and centre do you?"
"Son of a bitch," Bobby hisses, reaching for his shotgun.
"Now, now; no need for that sort of language," Crowley says with a grin. Bobby takes hold of his shotgun and points it at Crowley. "I'll take that as my cue to leave. A pleasure talking to you Bobby, as always."
Crowley teleports just as Bobby fires two rounds at the place he'd previously been standing. They miss, and Crowley leaves their meeting with a smile on his face and a spring in his step.
Act 3
"Well, ladies and gentlemen, I assume you all know why you're here?" Crowley smiles lazily at the fear in the eyes of the five demons squatting before him. "You're here because you've all been very naughty. Trying to free Lucifer, trying to kill me, defying the new God – the mighty Castiel." Crowley's smile briefly flickers into something smug and possessive before returning to calmly triumphant. "As you should know by now, all of these are big no-noes in the new regime. Which means all of you must be punished in a way I as the King of Hell deem fitting, and I choose death by Hell Hound." The massive beast beside Crowley barks excitedly and pulls against the hand restraining it. Crowley shushes it before turning a leer on his prisoners. "Since I'm such a generous guy, I'm going to give you all a thirty second head start. If I were you I'd start running. One..."
As one the demons leap to their feet and scatter throughout the junk yard. The Hell Hound tries to give chase but one word from Crowley cows the beast. The King of Hell has made sure that the demons are tied to their vessels and that they cannot escape the perimeter of the junk yard. Running only delays the inevitable: as soon as the Hell Hound is released it will seek out every demon and rip them limb from limb. Crowley grins and lovingly scratches behind the beast's ear, whispering words of patience as he continues to count in his head.
Suddenly, the monstrous dog whimpers and retreats a step. Frowning, Crowley looks up to see what has upset it, and sees Castiel glowering at him. Crowley's frown instantly morphs into a smile as Cas begins to walk towards him. "What are you doing here Darling?"
Castiel grabs the lapels of Crowley's suit and throws him backwards into a tower of crushed cars. The impact forms a crater in the already damaged cars and produces a hiss of pain from Crowley. Before the demon can even compose the thought to open his mouth and demand an explanation, Castiel is standing before him and once again tightly grasping his lapels. The new God pins Crowley to the tower, his face contorted in fury as he says, "You went to see Bobby Singer."
Smart comments and accusations that Cas has been spying on him threaten to escape Crowley's lips, but in the end self-preservation wins out. "He summoned me; it'd be rude not to turn up."
"Why did he summon you?"
"For information. Wanted to know what you were planning."
"Did you tell him?"
"It's hard to give away a person's secrets when you don't know what they are," Crowley sneers. "If you remember correctly, you don't trust me enough to divulge your master plan."
Castiel is quiet for a moment, some of the anger draining from his face. "What else did you talk about?"
"We exchanged some light banter and had a philosophical discussion on why it would be pointless for you to start massacring demons. Frivolous talk really; not something you'd consider writing home about."
Castiel stares hard into Crowley's eyes for another minute before releasing him. He steps back, his face unreadable, his eyes still trained on Crowley. The King of Hell stares back as he straightens his suit and wipes off junk yard dust.
"So, are you going to explain what that little song and dance was about?" Crowley asks.
"I wanted to know if you had betrayed me," Castiel replies without a hint of an apology.
Crowley stares dumbfounded at the former angel. "Do I look like a moron? I just signed a contract that is very favourable to me; do you honestly think I would risk making it null and void on the off-chance that Bobby Singer might have a better offer?"
Castiel frowns but remains silent.
"That's exactly what you thought, wasn't it? You thought I was making a secret pact with the Winchesters." Crowley sighs, disappointed and frustrated. "Really, Cas, I would've thought you'd know me better than that."
"If Bobby had said he had a plan to defeat me you would have sided with him," Castiel accuses.
"Would I now?" Crowley says, raising a curious eyebrow. "How do you know that? How do you know I wouldn't have killed him to save your skin?"
"Because you despise working beneath me."
"That is true," Crowley concedes. "But I don't plan on being beneath you for long."
"What does that mean?" Cas asks, a hint of menace entering his voice.
Crowley reaches for Castiel's tie and caresses it between his thumb and index finger. "That means, Darling, that I plan on working on you until you respect me enough to make me more than just a partner in name alone. Sooner or later you're going to realise that we work better as a team of equals than a marionette and a puppeteer. Then you're going to let me in on your plan for the new world and give me the power I was promised many moons ago when we were searching for Purgatory. That's when things are really going to get interesting."
Even though the sexual tension between them is a pulsing, living thing, Castiel continues to interrogate Crowley, although with noticeably less suspicion than before. "If the Winchesters destroyed me you could make your own new world; you wouldn't need to share it with anyone."
"If the Winchesters didn't double-cross me and I actually survived dethroning you, then I would have half of Heaven after me for helping to kill their leader. Not to mention that the new sheriff would have their own agenda that could quite possibly involve smiting as many demons as they can get their hands on. No thanks; I think I'll stick with the Angel I know, if you'll pardon the pun. Besides," Crowley purrs as he leans forward, "I doubt any other angel could look as good naked as you do."
Castiel's mouth crashes into Crowley's, his hands grabbing the demon's hips and pushing him back into the wall of crushed cars. Crowley doesn't resist; he tugs on Cas' tie, egging the former angel on.
They continue to kiss until Castiel shifts and whispers against Crowley's lips, "I still don't trust you."
Crowley chuckles. "Of course you don't Darling. Nobody smart ever trusts me."
"But I know you won't stray. Not now – not when you have so much to gain by staying and so much to lose by leaving."
"Were you jealous Cas?" Crowley teases. "I was right, you are the monogamous type."
"Silence," Cas orders. "We are going to the manor."
"But I have five disobedient little buggers to punish."
"Your Hell Hound can deal with them without your supervision. Tell it to complete its task and then return directly to Hell, or I will personally ensure that its existence is terminated."
Beside them the Hell Hound whimpers.
Crowley glances sympathetically at the cowering beast. "I personally don't think my input is necessary."
"Then unless you have any further objections, I believe it is time for us to head to the manor."
Crowley smiles. "If you weren't God I'd be surprised at how you always manage to get your way."
"It's a gift," Castiel replies with a righteous smirk before disappearing in the rustle of wings. Crowley returns the expression before following the former angel straight to his bedroom.
Act 4
It is the feeling of his organs being crushed like tin cans that eventually rouses Crowley from unconsciousness. The King of Hell chokes on the blood pooling in his mouth and releases a hacking cough that spills the dark liquid onto his suit. This seems to ease the pressure on his organs, but does nothing for the pounding in his head. It is like a hot poker is being shoved from the back of his skull straight through his brain into his eyeballs; and Crowley is half a second away from screaming when he senses that he is not alone.
Slowly, Crowley raises his head and opens his eyes. His vision is blurry and the light in the small room is so bright that it is almost blinding. However, after a moment of agony, his eyes adjust and he is able to see that there are three people in the room besides him: two women, one on either side of a Hispanic male. They are all dressed in smart business suits and expressions of sardonic disgust. One of the women holds an angelic blade.
Crowley takes all this in (along with the Devil's Trap drawn in white chalk around him and the chains binding him to an uncomfortable wooden chair) and sighs. "I thought Castiel had cleaned house and disposed of all of Raphael's supporters weeks ago."
One of the female angels twitches as she growls, "He did. But we have never followed Raphael."
"Then why, pray tell, am I here instead of relaxing at home after a hard day at the office?"
"Because we do not trust Castiel, and we do not approve of what he is doing," the other female angel replies. "He is not our Father – he cannot claim to be God. And he cannot go about killing our brothers and sisters simply because they refuse to bow before him."
"I still fail to see what any of this has to do with me."
The male angel's lip curls as he says, "There are rumours that Castiel has taken you as a lover."
"Ah," is Crowley's quiet reply. "So I'm your bargaining chip? You'll return me to Castiel if he relinquishes his power?"
"No."
"No?"
"We have no intentions of trying to reason with Castiel. We are going to destroy him."
"I'm sorry but you've lost me – must be this God-awful headache I've got," Crowley says with a pained yet sweet smile.
"There can be no forgiveness for Castiel's blasphemy; he must be destroyed," states the second female angel. "We did not acquire you as a means to bargain with the traitor – you are simply a source of information. You are the one who is closest to Castiel; if anyone knows his weaknesses it is you. You will tell us what they are or we will do more than let you wallow in agony – we will do everything in our power to make your suffering unbearable."
For a second disbelief overcomes Crowley's pain."You've got to be joking," he mutters as he closes his eyes and prays for strength. "That's your plan? Kidnap me and torture me until I reveal the new God's Achilles ' heel? Have you any idea how idiotic that is? Do you honestly think that Castiel, for all his pride and sense of invincibility, would tell me – a demon – his weaknesses? You might not have heard, but we're not really the most trustworthy of beings. Cas knows that I'd sell my own mother's soul if it would get me out of a bind such as this; which is exactly why he has told me absolutely squat about anything of even remote importance."
"Just because he hasn't told you something doesn't mean you haven't discovered it for yourself."
Crowley sighs regretfully. "I'm ashamed to say that I've so far failed to deduce Castiel's great cosmic campaign, let alone his weaknesses." He then smiles genially and says, "So sorry to have ruined your grand scheme and made you waste your trip to Earth. But I'm sure you weren't expecting it to be that easy to kill God? Well, better luck next time and all that. Now, how about you untie me and we forget this whole thing ever happened?"
Crowley waits hopefully for one of the angels to make a move. When all they do is stare blankly at him, he feels his optimism slowly dissipate into a quiet sense of foreboding.
"If we let you go you'll tell Castiel of our rebellion," states the female angel holding the angelic blade.
"Not necessarily," Crowley protests, giving them his most trustworthy and reassuring smile. "I can easily be persuaded to pretend this whole debacle never happened. I simply went home and partook of too much cheap scotch after a particularly tiring day dealing with my moronic minions."
The male angel smirks grimly. "Weren't you the one who said that demons couldn't be trusted? How do we know you won't betray us to Castiel the moment we release you?"
"I never said that demons couldn't be trusted; I simply suggested that you always read the fine print when dealing with one."
"And the fine print is that as soon as you're free you're going to run to Castiel and let him know that we are plotting his downfall." The angel's smile becomes vicious as he adds, "That is why you cannot be allowed to live."
Crowley somehow manages to keep a straight face as he hastily searches for reasons to divert the angels from their intended course of murderous action. "You do realise that if you kill me Castiel is still going to know that you're up to something? Wouldn't it be more advantageous to risk me not letting the cat out of the bag than to throw the whole thing in Castiel's face?"
"It has a point," mutters one of the female angels.
"Maybe; but his death would also cause Castiel to search for another demon to manage Hell. If that occurred he might be distracted for long enough for us to devise a new plan," comments the second female angel.
The male angel nods. "He would need to act to prevent anarchy among the abominations."
"Are you sure?" questions the first female. "He might let the demons squabble amongst themselves and search for us while he waits for one of them to dominate the others."
"There are multiple courses of action he might take."
"Let us return to the original plan," implores the male angel. "We agreed that we would kill the demon when it was no longer useful. As it is unable to provide us with the information we need it is no longer useful."
"If we kill it Castiel may not find its vessel until after we have discovered his weaknesses."
"It would then be most advantageous to kill the demon."
"We should return to the plan."
Crowley mentally curses. He can tell that they have made up their minds and no amount of smooth-talking will dissuade them.
"So who will have the pleasure of doing the deed?" asks the male angel.
"You do it Bachiel, we can tell that you want to," says the female with the sword.
Bachiel nods his thanks and turns to Crowley.
"You'll regret this," Crowley warns as he internally laments that this is how he is going to meet his end: trapped in a room with three angels and his skull feeling like it is caught between the jaws of a Hell Hound.
Bachiel simply smirks and raises his hand, gathering pure white light into his palm. Crowley shuts his eyes and waits for his soul to be reduced to ash.
"Bachiel stop."
At the sound of the familiar voice, Crowley cautiously opens his eyes. He stares, along with the three angels, at Castiel. The new God stands at the back of the room, his face a mask of cold fury.
It takes Crowley a moment to process this development, but when he does he growls, "It's about time you showed up. What the bloody hell took you so long?"
"I was distracted."
Crowley opens his mouth to demand to know what was so interesting that it stopped Cas from noticing that he'd been kidnapped; but he quietly closes it when he sees that Castiel's attention is focused entirely on the angels between them.
"You three deliberately disobeyed my orders, kidnapped my business partner, and plotted against me. Do you have anything to say before I destroy you?"
Instead of a verbal response, the female with the sword charges Castiel. The former angel easily rips the blade from her grasp and plunges it into her chest. He then drops the corpse and turns his eyes to Bachiel. The male angel produces his own blade from the sleeve of his suit, but instead of fighting Castiel dispatches him with a single snap of his fingers. The angel explodes, showering his companion in blood and the remains of organs. Her face is white as she stands alone before the wrath of the new God. "Others will rise up against you. My brothers and sisters will not tolerate your blasphemy forever."
Rage flashes in Castiel's icy eyes as he appears before the woman and runs her though with her companion's blade. The angel cries out in pain as she collapses to her knees; her grace spilling out from the wound that doesn't immediately kill her. Castiel steps over her prone body, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and turns to face Crowley.
Cold fury once again possesses the new God's features as he takes in the King of Hell's appearance. "What happened?"
"How should I know?" Crowley replies irritably. "One minute I'm home alone, the next I'm in this dump being interrogated by a bunch of renegade angels."
Without any further ado, Castiel neatly scuffs the chalk-drawn Devils Trap with his shoe and strides over to Crowley. He places his hand on the demon's forehead, and within seconds Crowley's agonising headache becomes entirely non-existent. Castiel then turns his attention to the chains restraining the King of Hell, which fall away at a single touch. "They used a combination of magic and physical force to subdue you. I would advise you not to overexert yourself over the next few days," Castiel informs Crowley as he helps the demon to his feet.
"Duly noted," Crowley says as he attempts to brush dirt from his suit, only to find that the shoulder has been ripped and soaked with his blood. "Bollocks. Looks like I'll have to call my tailor round again."
"Are you not concerned that you were just abducted by angels?"
Crowley pauses at the note of ire in Castiel's voice. He looks the former angel in the eye and decides it best he choose his next words carefully. "Of course I am. However, I have only just recovered from head trauma and my priorities appear to still be a little skewed. I'm sure once I return home I will be able to properly order my thoughts and discover how my security was breeched." Sensing that his answer has soothed Cas, Crowley adds flirtatiously, "Besides, why should I be concerned when I have my dashing knight in shining armour here to protect me?"
Instead of the expected exasperation or masked incomprehension, Castiel's expression darkens. He steps back from Crowley and says, "I need to return to Heaven. Contact me when you have discovered how the angels managed to penetrate your defences."
With that Castiel is gone, leaving behind a truly bemused demon.
Act 5
Crowley has just finished perusing the menu when Castiel takes a seat in the chair opposite him. "Have you discovered the reason why I was required to rescue you last night?" demands the new God.
"Hello to you too Sweetie," Crowley says, undaunted by the former angel's brusque manner. "In answer to your question: yes, I have uncovered how the little buggers were able to abduct me. Turns out that, due to my recent complacency in terms of protection against angelic intrusion, some of the Enochian symbols around the manor had been eroded, allowing angels entrance. The problem has now been solved and my home is once again completely angel-proof."
"You should not have allowed this to happen. I would have expected you to be more vigilant."
"I am vigilant," Crowley replies, slightly insulted. "But recently I've felt no need to examine the angelic warding, seeing as angels aren't supposed to be trying to break down my door and kidnap me."
"Are you implying that this was my fault?" Cas asks icily.
"No, what I'm implying is that now that those three angels are dead this qualifies as an unfortunate accident."
"Accident?"
Crowley senses the atmosphere fill with electric power and automatically tenses. "Yes, an accident. That way we can forgo the inevitable argument in which you blame me for not examining my wards with a fine-toothed comb every night and I blame you for not keeping a close enough eye on your angels. Personally, I think such a dispute would be petty and uncalled for; it would be far simpler to accept that occasionally underlings get ideas above their station, and that both of us should have been more observant of the troubles at home."
Cas continues to glare at Crowley, but the expression is no longer accompanied by the menacing sensation of the new God's power. "Regardless, I shouldn't have needed to rescue you."
"Well Darling, if you'd given me a few of those souls from Purgatory like you'd promised I wouldn't have needed your help," Crowley says with a seductive smile.
"I've already told you that I am not going to hand any power to the King of Hell."
"Even God can change His mind."
Castiel does not respond, and Crowley does not expect him to. They've had this discussion so many times that it's almost become routine. It is familiar ground and no longer considered a dangerous subject. Crowley knows that Cas is still concerned about his Plan and whether Crowley can be trusted with the details; until the King of Hell has truly proven himself loyal there is no chance that Castiel will give him power that may threaten the execution of the Plan. This does not worry Crowley. Castiel is currently the only piece on the chessboard worth following and, even if he wasn't, Crowley feels that he would still be in partnership with him. For all his glowering and social-stiltedness, Crowley still enjoys Castiel's company. The former angel knows the headaches that come with leadership – the incompetence, the defiance, the inability to deal with change – and appreciates Crowley's commentary on which humans need a good smiting (i.e. those swimming in sin but with their heads too far up their asses to lower themselves to dealing with a demon). In addition, he recognises Crowley's superiority in terms of knowledge of popular culture and has allowed the King of Hell to teach him the art of referencing. Their first lesson had been the proper use of air quotes.
In short, Crowley is not worried about the lack of power Cas has bestowed on him. He knows that it is only a matter of time before Cas trusts him enough to bring him into the fold. Castiel knows this too. Crowley senses that his unwavering certainty has registered in Castiel's mind, and so the new God no longer sees his needling for power as a sign of rebellion – simply a reminder that he is still waiting for what he is due. Such a thing is acceptable in the eyes of the former angel, and so although the whole thing is a conversation ender, it is not one that ends with both of them angry or one of them a smoking pile of ash.
After a minute of simply staring silently at each other, Castiel turns to look at his surroundings. "Why did you arrange to meet me here?"
"I thought it would make a nice change to conduct our business meeting over dinner."
Cas looks at him sceptically. "I would not have thought it would be wise to conduct our discussions within hearing range of mortals."
Crowley grins slyly. "Don't worry, we won't be overheard. I've hexed the table so that only those sitting at it can understand what is being discussed – to the rest of the patrons of this fine establishment all that will be audible is white noise. Plus, I've put up warding symbols around the perimeter to keep out any unwanted guests."
"I see you have learnt your lesson," Cas says tartly.
"Which leads us nicely to our first order of business," Crowley says, a tight smile stretching his lips, "which is the question of why you've got such a bug up your arse about saving me?"
"I do not have a bug anywhere on or in my person," Castiel replies frostily.
"No?" Crowley sneers. "Then why do you keep going on and on about my security? It can't be because it inconvenienced you as I inadvertently led you straight to three rebellious agents you appear to have overlooked. Is that the problem? Are you taking your frustrations out on me because the angels aren't falling in line like they're supposed to?"
"Of course not," Castiel replies dismissively. "Those three were anomalies; the rest of Heaven willingly follows me."
"Then why the third degree? Has my slip up offended you that much? Or were you just worried about my safety?"
"Be silent," Castiel commands acidly. "I have had enough of this conversation."
The change in tone catches Crowley's interest. A grin slowly makes its way onto his lips as dark delight dances in his eyes. "You were worried weren't you? Well isn't that adorable."
"Crowley," Castiel warns ominously.
Crowley chuckles and leans forward so that his weight rests on his elbows. "It's nothing to be ashamed about Darling. I know I have an important role in your great cosmic plan, whatever it may be, and that losing me would be a terrible loss. It's only natural to be worried when confronted with the realisation you almost let one of your pieces – and the business partner you promised to protect – get knocked off the board. There's absolutely no reason for you to get mad at yourself or, more to the point, me. I've learnt my lesson and don't intend to get taken out any time soon. Which means, as I said before, there's no reason for us to dwell on these things."
A contemplative look takes over Castiel's face. "It is natural to be concerned about the well-being of a business partner?" he queries carefully.
"Of course," Crowley replies. "Why? Were you worried you were actually starting to fall for me?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
Although Castiel's tone is dismissive, Crowley can tell that he's lying. He's tempted to pick at the deceit, to tease Cas about his inability to lie, but something stops him. A warning bell in the back of his mind tells him to stay away from the topic, to move back into safer waters of conversation. He's not entirely sure why the issue has been red-flagged, but he trusts his instincts to keep him out of danger. So Crowley drops the subject and instead hands Castiel the menu he had been reading earlier. "Choose whatever you like; dinner's on me."
Castiel takes the menu with a frown. "We do not need nourishment."
"We don't need many things; but that doesn't mean we shouldn't have them."
Castiel continues to watch him suspiciously.
Crowley sighs. "Honestly Darling, you need to relax. For once I don't have any ulterior motives."
"I highly doubt that."
Crowley smirks. "I suppose it all depends on what you deem an ulterior motive. Is thanking you for saving my life an ulterior motive?"
"I thought we had already established that I did that for my own benefit; you do not need to thank me."
Crowley nods, a smirk still playing on his lips. "Then how about attempting to clear the air after our little disagreement?" he asks as he extends his leg and slowly runs his foot up Castiel's calf. "Attempting to get you to relax with good food and wine so that we can have a decent conversation? Attempting to get you into a good enough mood so that later you'll come back to my place for a little after-dinner entertainment?" By this point Crowley's foot has reached Castiel's thigh and a heated look has entered the new God's eyes. Crowley leers as he drops his leg and leans forward. "You see, Castiel, my ulterior motives aren't always as sinister as you perceive them to be."
"No, they are not," Castiel says, and if Crowley hadn't known better he would have said that Cas was actually smiling. With that, the former angel opens the menu and begins to look through the dishes.
Satisfied that his plan has succeeded, Crowley motions over a nearby waiter. It was time to introduce Castiel to champagne.
Act 6
The sound of his phone vibrating breaks Crowley out of his reverie. He reaches to the bedside table for the small device before settling back amongst the pillows and Castiel's firm embrace. The demon sighs as he reads the text telling him that there is a situation in Hell that needs his attention. "Can't those morons do anything without me?" he grumbles as he closes the message. He then turns to Castiel and says, "I'm afraid we're going to have to cut this short Darling."
Cas releases his breath in an almost-sigh. "I should also return to Heaven."
Crowley waits for the former angel to move, but he remains still, his gaze trained on Crowley.
"Last night...was nice. Thank you."
Crowley smiles. "I knew you would enjoy it once you relaxed. Everyone needs someone they can talk and insult the Winchesters with. And disparaging headache-inducing minions is always fun."
Castiel nods slowly. "We should do it again sometime."
"Agreed."
It is another moment before Castiel reluctantly releases Crowley from his arms. The demon grudgingly crawls out of the embrace and the warmth of his bed, and looks around for his clothes. He then remembers that Castiel had removed them with magic the night before when they had returned from the restaurant and fallen into bed together.
Crowley turns to the former angel and indicates his naked body. "I can't go to work looking like this."
Castiel snaps his fingers and Crowley's suit is returned to him clean and freshly pressed. The demon grins and leans in to kiss the new God.
"Thanks Honey. I promise I'll be home for dinner."
Castiel frowns in confusion. "Is this another reference to popular culture I do not understand?"
"Yes," Crowley says with a slight chuckle. "If I didn't have somewhere to be I'd explain it, but as I do..."
Castiel nods. "Goodbye Crowley."
"Goodbye Darling," Crowley says as he presses one last kiss to Castiel's mouth. "Be sure to lock the door on your way out." He then disappears before Cas can point out the redundancy of his command.
Act 7
"What part of 'Kill the werewolf and leave the humans' did you morons not understand?"
Crowley glares at the two minions standing defiantly before him. The one on the left, wearing the body of a forty year old mechanic, grumbles, "We only killed four humans. It's not like anyone will notice."
"I noticed," Crowley hisses. He resists the temptation to massage his temples, or strike the impudent fool.
The second minion, this one wearing the body of a thirty year old kindergarten teacher, crosses her arms and complains, "We never had to worry about not killing humans before. Lucifer thought it a bonus if we wiped out a few of them on a mission."
"Do I look like Lucifer to you?" Crowley practically spits.
The woman sneers, "No, but you do look like an angel's bitch."
Crowley's face goes blank. "Clever," he says before pulling a silver flask out of the pocket of his coat. He removes the top with a flick of his thumb and throws the contents into the woman's face. The woman screams and covers her face with her hands. Crowley smiles and puts the flask back into his pocket. Turning to the other demon, he adds conversationally, "Holy water – never leave home without it."
The demon glowers but remains silent.
Crowley's grin grows as he slips both hands into the pockets of his coat. "Now, where were we? Oh yes, I was about to inform you why we do not kill humans. Well, the simple answer to that question is-"
Crowley pauses mid-sentence as something begins to vibrate in his pocket. Reaching beneath his coat, Crowley pulls a mobile phone out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket. He looks at the caller ID and raises a curious eyebrow when he sees it is Castiel calling. Cas does not call him often; the former angel would much rather appear out of nowhere than use unreliable human technology. Generally, the only time the angel uses the phone is to cancel a meeting, or to inform Crowley that some of his minions are misbehaving and need to be stopped before Castiel sends his own underlings to solve the problem. After already receiving one of these calls today, Crowley is more than a little suspicious as to the nature of Castiel's call.
"Castiel," Crowley says as he jovially answers the phone. "How can I be of service?"
"Crowley," is the gravelly reply. "This is what I believe is referred to as a...booty call."
"Oh?" A mischievous smile spreads over Crowley's face, which quickly morphs into a leer when he notices that the two demons in front of him suddenly look a lot more fearful. "I'm a little busy at the minute, maybe you should call back in a few hours?"
"Crowley," is the growled reply. "I want you at the manor. Now."
An involuntary shiver of desire runs up Crowley's spine. "Well, Darling, when you put it that way... Give me five minutes to put things in order and I'll be right there."
"Good."
Crowley hurriedly hangs up and dials another number. "Flora, clear my schedule and make sure nobody tries to contact me unless it's an emergency."
"Right away Sir," is the chirpy reply from Crowley's new secretary.
Crowley hastily hangs up and turns to the two demons still waiting apprehensively for their punishment. "Luckily for you two I have more important things to do than torture you. So bugger off and make sure that next time you get given orders you follow them, or you'll be receiving a double dose of agony."
With that Crowley disappears from the blood-stained warehouse and reappears in his own immaculate bedroom. Castiel is there waiting for him, his eyes alight with lust and need. A shiver of desire once again runs through Crowley as he begins to strip. He gets as far as removing his coat before Castiel pins him to a wall and kisses him. The demon groans at the ferocious nature of the kiss, at the hungry way Cas devours his mouth. He grabs hold of Castiel's hair and tries to fight back, but is overpowered by the starving former angel. Cas pushes him back into the wall, pushes so hard Crowley fears the plaster may break, but then Castiel's hands are at his belt and all his fears melt away.
Act 8
Hours later, Crowley is basking in the afterglow of the best sex he's had in a long time. His eyes are closed but he can sense Cas beside him, a comfortably warm presence that is just as exhausted as he is. He wonders how long this can last, this beautiful lethargy, before some moron interrupts them. He wonders if he'll be the one to incinerate the unfortunate fool, or whether it will be Cas in all his vengeful God-like glory that will implode the interloper.
Crowley smiles and turns his head to stare at his bed partner. The former angel's expression is pensive and far too serious for someone who has just spent their last few hours sampling the delightful body of Crowley's vessel. Rolling onto his side, Crowley reaches out and deftly runs his fingers up and down Castiel's chest. The former angel follows the motion with his eyes before turning his attention to Crowley.
Crowley's smile is indulgent as he says, "You should make booty calls more often."
Castiel's lips flicker into a smile before his attention returns to the ceiling. Frowning, Crowley scoots closer to Cas so that they are practically hip to hip. He does not like that he is being ignored and wants to know what, exactly, has managed to so thoroughly capture Castiel's attention.
"Penny for your thoughts Darling?" Crowley says as he props himself up on one elbow.
"You do not want to know my thoughts," is the quiet reply.
"Why not?"
"They will make you angry."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do."
Crowley sits up and glowers down at the resigned and slightly sad God. "Let me guess, the Winchesters have something to do with this don't they?" When he does not receive a reply, Crowley knows he has guessed correctly. He releases a derisive snort; he should have known that those two would be the ones to ruin his and Castiel's good mood. "So, what have the moron brothers done this time? Gotten drunk, fucked a demon and started the Apocalypse? Oh, wait, they've already done that once; it would be a little clichéd for them to do it a second time."
Castiel returns Crowley's glower. "I do not appreciate your sarcasm."
"Well I don't appreciate you ruining my day by thinking about the Winchesters."
They continue to glare at each other for a few minutes. Eventually Castiel sighs and sits up. "They summoned me because they wished to know if I was the one who had killed every monster they had set out to hunt in the last few months."
Crowley resists the temptation to smile. His minions might not be very conscious of civilian safety, but they do get the job done. "What did you tell them?"
"I told them that through you I had ordered demons to continue to hunt monsters. I explained my plan to enable human Hunters to retire and live ordinary lives by giving demons the responsibility of catching and disposing of the monsters which prey on humanity."
"I'm guessing by your reaction they didn't take the news well?"
Castiel nods, a frown marring his pretty face. "They do not believe demons can do the job properly. They say the job is about saving people rather than killing monsters and that demons will never be able to understand that."
Crowley rolls his eyes. "Typical humans and their hubris. They think their way is the only way to do something."
Castiel watches him silently for a moment before saying, "Dean also asked me if we were lovers."
"And what did you tell him?"
"I said that we were."
"I bet he didn't like that," Crowley says as he secretly relishes the image of Dean Winchester's crestfallen expression.
"No. He said he never would have believed that I would fall so far. He said he was disgusted with me. He dared to call me an angel slut."
The lights flicker as energy surges into the room. Crowley stiffens, his eyes darting from Cas to the exits. He knows that this is a pointless exercise (teleporting out of the room will enable him to get to safety a hell of a lot quicker than running through a stupid door) but humans have been cultivating their fight or flight instincts for thousands of years, and in times like these it is hard to stop those instincts from surfacing. When every nerve in his body is on edge, when adrenalin is surging through the veins of his vessel, knowing that there is an escape route is one hell of a comfort.
Just as suddenly as it started, the energy storm ends. The anger drains from Castiel's face and is replaced by his earlier contemplative expression. Crowley relaxes, sensing that the danger has passed.
"It has been awhile since I've been filled with such righteous fury. I threw Dean across the room and started to punch him. Sam tried to intervene so I disabled him. I continued to punch Dean until he was nearly unconscious, then I healed him and repeated the process."
Crowley can only stare in wonder and what might be pride at Castiel. The demon knows that a punch, even one delivered by God, is nowhere near as painful as having your organs rupture and your bones break. Castiel could have caused Dean a lot more pain with his celestial magic, could have had him writhing on the floor in agony with a snap of his fingers, but there is something so much more personal in using punches to deliver pain. Dean Winchester understood a punch much more than the simple infliction of pain, understood how human and full of rage the act was; which was why it was so much more fitting that Castiel had chosen a punch as retaliation. And the healing him before he fell unconscious so he could be subjected to Cas' rage all over again? There was something so deliciously cruel in that act that Crowley almost felt like applauding Cas and asking him if he'd happened to video the event. It was about time Castiel stopped mollycoddling the Winchesters and taught them the meaning of respect.
"After the second healing I was able to regain my composure. I asked Dean what he expected of me. I asked him what gave him the right to command angels, to demand loyalty of them. I asked him why he'd always demanded more of me than I could give. He'd demanded more of me than my Father and older brothers, who had demanded nothing less than absolute obedience. He had demanded obedience and perfection – I was supposed to be omniscient and omnipotent. I was supposed to fall in line and follow him. And I did, because I believed in him and thought him a friend. My first friend, my first connection to humanity. But the moment I tried to step out on my own, to go against his word, he turned against me. He said I was like family yet would not support me unless I did what he said was right. He never once tried to see things from my perspective. He abandoned me like the rest of my family..."
Castiel pauses, allowing the anger that has once again seeped into his voice to dissipate before continuing.
"I told him that who I performed coitus with was none of his business. He had rejected me and so I had no loyalty left to him. If I wish to have intercourse with a demon, that is my prerogative. He should accept that in the new world I am creating I am the one who decides what is right and wrong. I am above judgement, especially from such a flawed human being as Dean Winchester. I told him it was his turn to fall in line if he did not want to be destroyed. I promised to create a world that was so much better than this one and that I would not let a demon seduce me from my plans. I told him to retire and have the normal life he has always been denied."
"You didn't destroy him?"
"Not this time."
There is something in the way Castiel says those three small words that makes Crowley think that Dean Winchester has been given his last warning. Next time he will receive no mercy from the new God.
"Is that why you made your booty call? You had a lot of pent up frustration to get out?" Crowley teases, his spirits lifted after hearing that Dean Winchester has been knocked down from his high horse.
Castiel sits so that he is eye-to-eye with Crowley. "Do you know why I started this...partnership with you?"
"Because you were horny?" Crowley purrs as he places a hand on Castiel's thigh.
"If that was the only reason I would not have chosen a demon to relieve my...frustrations. Neither would I have necessarily returned to the same person each time."
Crowley pauses, trying to understand what Castiel is attempting to say. "If you're looking for love Darling you're way off the mark. I can give you pleasure and I can give you loyalty, but love is a completely different story."
Castiel looks at him disparagingly. "Do you honestly think I'm naive enough to think that a demon is capable of love?"
"Not naive so much as desperate. As you said earlier, your Father abandoned you, the Winchesters abandoned you, your brothers and sisters-"
Suddenly, everything falls into place.
Castiel leans forward, a desperate hunger in his eyes that Crowley has never seen before. There is nothing sexual in that gaze, just the simple need to connect with another being. The look scares Crowley because Cas isn't supposed to be this human; he's supposed to be God and beyond this need.
"I hate demons. I think that they are abominations. But I can trust them because I know it is in their nature to be untrustworthy. I know that you do not care about what is right or wrong; self-interest is what motivates you. I can trust you to do what you must to remain at the top. As long as I am God I will have your loyalty. As long as I am all-powerful I know that you will not run. I chose you because you are uncomplicated. With you there are no expectations of love. It's just business."
Crowley looks away from Castiel's intense gaze, a headache beginning to form behind his temples. "That's not all though is it? Your encounter with the Winchesters has made you rethink your simple solution."
Castiel nods slowly, uncertainly. "From the beginning I have been trying to convince myself that it is only about physical gratification, about doing something for the sole purpose of pleasing myself without thinking about how others will be affected. For a long time anger and lust have combined to create a need that I yearn to satisfy. I thought this would satisfy that need, and it has. But it has simultaneously satisfied an entirely different need. It is more than the need for a trusted ally in a world of enemies – it is the need for companionship. I enjoy your company, your brash insults, and your shameless insinuations much more than I should. I enjoy verbally sparing with you; I relish being with someone who is not afraid to talk to me or plotting my downfall. I...I thought I knew what I was doing. Talking with the Winchesters has shown me that I am not as in-control of the situation as I believed. I am more attached to you than I had ever intended to be. Even God gets lonely."
Crowley feels like swearing. He feels like screaming – at Castiel and at himself. He should have known that a virgin would get attached. He'd hoped that Cas would get attached (so that the new God wouldn't get bored and trade him in for a younger model) but not this attached. Like Castiel, he'd wanted a business relationship. The ability to talk to each other, to argue, without fear of repercussions; to have casual sex and be at peace in each other's company. He'd wanted a partner, an ally, maybe even a friend. He hadn't had a friend in a long time (as most of his previous associates would have gladly stabbed him in the back in order to get their grubby hands on more power or status), but on a good day he might have been willing to concede to classifying Castiel as a friend. This, however, is not friendship. Friends don't need each other like this. There aren't this many emotions and ties between the friends Crowley had pictured them being. They were supposed to be the kind of friends that can see each other every other year and simply talk – not the kind of friends you lean on in a crisis because there's nobody else and you can't stomach the thought of being alone. Crowley doesn't want that type of friendship – it's too close to whole-heartedly caring for someone. That type of friendship drags in all sorts of emotions and commitments and acts of selflessness that Crowley just doesn't want. He wants something easy and uncomplicated, not the train wreck this relationship is heading towards.
Eventually Crowley realises that Castiel is watching him carefully. "I've frightened you," the former angel says, his face a mask.
Not one to ever admit his fear, Crowley sneers, "Try disgusted. Do you know how pathetic you look right now? After listening to all that soppy drivel you just spouted I feel like I'm going to vomit. What kind of God are you? You sound like a weak, wailing, child that needs its mummy. You-"
Before Crowley can finish, Castiel punches him. The hit slams him down onto the mattress, where he lays stunned and in pain. Castiel is instantly on top of him, his legs straddling Crowley's waist as he looms down like a vengeful angel from above. Crowley has time to wonder if his nose is broken, and if perhaps he went too far with his insults, before Castiel says, "Nothing has changed. Just because I have realised that I am more human than I expected to be does not mean that our relationship will change. We have a contract and we will both honour it. I would rather not incinerate you but if you try to interfere with my plans I will destroy you without hesitation. I am not so human that I will let my feelings distract me from doing what is necessary."
Crowley stares into Castiel's eyes and knows that he is telling the truth. For all his talk of needing him, Cas also likes to keep his distance. Just as Crowley would sacrifice Cas to better his position in life, Cas would sacrifice him for the greater good (whatever that was). He hadn't been trying to confess his undying love for Crowley; he'd only been answering Crowley's question. He'd asked what was wrong and he'd got his answer. What was wrong was that things weren't turning out as Castiel had planned. Yet he could deal with it because their situation wasn't really a bad one. It was still a business relationship, even if it ran much deeper than either of them had intended. The realisation didn't have to change anything. Cas didn't want it to change anything. He wanted the easy company and the mind-blowing sex. He wanted their partnership to remain intact. He was happy being, at best, friends with benefits and, at worse, two beings simply using each other for their mutual benefit. He wanted to keep it simple. Crowley could deal with that.
Crowley smiles as charmingly as possible with blood gently trickling from his nose. "It seems I have misinterpreted your meaning. I hope you'll forgive a demon for jumping to conclusions – we do that from time to time."
Castiel continues to glare. "Are you saying you will honour your contract?"
"I am." Crowley pauses before saying, "Now that that's all cleared up I think make-up sex is in order don't you? They do say that it's the best way to end an argument." When Castiel's expression remains unchanged, Crowley leans up to capture his lips. "Come now Darling, don't make me beg; not when you're the one who won the argument."
Understanding flickers in Castiel's eyes. His lips return to Crowley's, hungry and not the least bit gentle. Just how Crowley likes it.
Nearly 11,000 words and I still didn't manage to reveal Cas' big plan -_-' Maybe in the sequel...if I ever find the time/motivation to write it.
Please Review!