John Constantine pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the old church. They whined in protest. To him, the building was like a sleeping monster that could wake any minute and all hell would break loose. He could sense the battles in the walls. Half-breeds, soldier daemons, angels and ghosts all hovered in or around these places of worship. Constantine never felt comfortable here.
The light burned his eyes after being in the dark, dreary streets. Heat emanated from a great fireplace on the far wall, and nearby, people whispered prayers for miracles and murmured pleas for forgiveness. He frowned at the giant cross standing above the fireplace. Jesus was not the only one to have sacrificed. He stood for a moment, feeling the air, listening to the sounds. There was a lot of energy here, and it made him shiver.
Father Garret stood next to a statue nearby, talking to a brunette in low tones with a frown plastered on his already serious face. Constantine would wait. He sauntered to the centre of the room, where armchairs and a Persian carpet stood next to the giant fireplace. A man wearing a suit stood next to the fire, staring aimlessly into it as if it would suddenly answer all of life's questions. It wasn't until Constantine got closer that he realized the man was actually not a man at all. Underneath the suit was a curved body, petite but tall. As he looked curiously at this interesting figure, black thick wings emerged from its back, spanning out over the wall and blocking the fireplace.
Constantine raised an eyebrow, suddenly completely aware of who it was. "Gabriel," he said cooly, his hands going into his pockets.
The angel turned, a sly smile on its lips. Gabriel was a frequent acquaintance of Constantine's, whether he liked it or not. Angels were always presumed to be androgynous, though Constantine always regarded Gabriel as feminine.
"Are you looking for me John?" She asked lightly.
Constantine kept his expression hard. "I wanted to have a word with your boss."
Gabriel circled him, her eyes bright. "Seems there are a lot of people looking for him as of late."
"Well…" rasped Constantine, "I have to talk to Him while I can, don't I."
Gabriel stopped and stared into his eyes. "Is that what this is about? You're still trying to buy your way into Heaven?" She scoffed. "I thought you would have learned by now."
"I know there's no hope for me, Gabriel," John said. "But there must be something…"
Gabriel moved to a chair and sat. "That's not the way this works," she smiled, crossing her long legs.
"Look, haven't I asked for forgiveness enough?" John asked. "Haven't I… gone to church enough, or prayed enough? Why should I kiss His ass any longer if there is no hope…?"
Gabriel's face grew serious. "John," she stood and moved close to him. "You're going to die because you smoked a pack of cigarettes every day since you were thirteen. And you're going to go to hell because of the life you took." John started her straight in the eyes. "What could be simpler than that?"
The rage that usually came when he talked to Gabriel rose within him again. She always told him how fucked he was, and it was not something he liked hearing about.
"You're the one who should go to hell, Half-breed," he whispered. Her eyes grew dark and a light shone within them as she stared at him. Something stirred in him that always did when she grew upset, and he felt her energies playing with his body. He'd met many Angels, but none quite like Gabriel. He loved the way she fumed when he called her a Half-breed. It was how he got back at her, how he kept himself strong. She said nothing, but her eyes continued to glow. He knew he had her under his power. Most angels did not feel emotion, but once again, Gabriel was not most angels. She had the high place in Heaven with angels, but Constantine knew there was more Half-breed in her than anything. He decided to play at this. "What happens when you die, Gabriel?" She flinched at the word die. "Do you expect Him to still need you?" He asked softly. "You're not immortal."
She did not speak. John got closer, until his nose was almost touching hers. "I'm not the only one that's fucked."
Her eyes lowered and he backed off, leaving her fallen. He knew she liked it. The anger, the fear… the emotions were like honey to angels. She blinked then for the first time in minutes, and her wings flared up behind her, bigger and darker than before. The wind pushed John back and he stumbled over a chair, falling on his side. She stood above him, her blonde curls hanging over her face.
"Even when I die," she began, "I am not going where you are."
He feared getting up, and was even a little aroused by being dominated by an angel. He found his body tingling again as she spoke. Her words were lost on his ears, and only served to harden his desire.
Standing, he brushed himself off and stood tall next to her. "So what's the story, Gabriel? Are you bribing Him?"
"What?" She asked, her eyes cold.
"I just wondered," started Constantine. "How it is He lets Half-breeds like you in so easily."
Her eyebrow twitched, and she reached out for him, but he grabbed her hand. He twisted at her wrist, the pale of her ivory skin becoming rouge under his touch. "You're more than just a mortal, Gabriel," he said, moving towards her. "You're almost human."
Her eyes burned fire as she reached up quickly with her other hand, her nails scaling his cheek. It burned briefly, but John liked the sensation. He looked into her eyes. "Does it feel nice? The pain and fear? Angels don't feel emotions… and those that do just can't get enough."
"And you're here to provide those for me John?" She laughed. "How generous of you… you'll go to heaven now for sure."
John shrugged. "Well… maybe not." Whispering, he got close to her. "But I don't give a fuck."
With that, he grabbed her other wrist and turned her so that she was now in front of him. Her back was tight against his front as he slowly ran his nose up her neck, smelling her sweet skin. She shuddered under his touch, obviously trying hard not to show any emotion, though her breathing had increased. He still held her wrists tightly, but she was not protesting. Weakened, Gabriel closed her eyes, still shuddering as Constantine released her wrists and wrapped his hands around her hips.
She had always alluded to this. Always tortured him. Always made him wonder just what it was like. Now, she was limp, succumbed to him. He opened a great chasm in her by pointing out her biggest weakness. She was a half-blood; she could hardly even be called an angel, save her wings. He had tired of her games. Tired of having her tell him he was going to hell. Tired of making it seem as if he were the only one in the world not going to heaven, and for the stupidest reasons. She took from him. Strangely, it was these very reasons he wanted her. No woman had ever reprimanded him so effectively. It was the torturous comments and chastisements that served to only torture his desire, as he never took them very seriously.
Now, he would take something back from her. His hands unzipped her pants slowly. He half expected her to fight back, to turn around and claw at his face, but she did not. Her arms hung limp by her sides as he partly lowered her pants. Her body was stiff, but Constantine knew she was perfectly conscious to everything that was going on.
"You're nailing your own coffin," whispered Gabriel lightly.
"What was that?" Constantine whispered harshly in her ear.
She laughed lightly, and he tightened his arms around her, pinning her arms. "You are sealing your fate as we speak, John," Gabriel whispered. "Do you really think He will forgive you for everything you've done if you go so far as to commit rape on an angel?"
"Rape?" Constantine frowned. "Is that what this is? I was under the impression you were completely in compliance."
Gabriel's face was alight with joy. "Could you really be so dull?"
Constantine's odd mixture of hate and desire returned, and he turned her quickly, shoving her up against a nearby bookcase. "Well if I'm going to hell," he said, his voice a growl. "I should at least have a better reason for being there."
She focused her eyes on his mouth and appeared to be thinking. Constantine held her arms above her with one hand, while the other moved to his pants and unzipped them.
"…and in public too," murmured Gabriel, but Constantine was past the point of listening. He pushed himself against her, his hardness lingering between her legs.
"I don't listen to half-breed scum," John said, his frustration at having been reminded he had a ticket to Hell rising again. "Let Him come down here and send me there."
She scoffed, and he rammed his hips into hers, pushing himself into her. A shiver ran through his body. He hated that he was getting off this way with a half-blood that wanted more than anything to see him burn in Hell. But there was something seductive about it. He knew she was drawing him in, tempting him by fueling that anger that made him only want her more.
"I guess I'll see you there, wont I?" John asked, rasping into her ear. He began a steady but aggressive rhythm in and out of her. Her arms moved to the shelves she was leaning against, and she held onto them as he grunted.
"You're going to hell for sure," whispered Gabriel, satisfied with herself for starting this.
"Not quite yet," grunted John, and with a final strong push, his body tightened and he spilled into her. His body shivered and he clenched his teeth to repress a loud moan. Gabriel merely watched his face, her eyes burning again. He didn't linger long. Removing himself from her, he zipped his pants and ran a hand through his hair. Reaching into his jacket pocket for a cigarette, he glared at Gabriel.
"I'm ready now," he whispered. "Let Him take me any time."