Disclaimer: Not mine. Never was, never will be. Please don't sue, I have no money.
I've dabbled in fanfic before, but this is my first foray into GO. Not too sure where this is going, but so far I rather like it – not bad for what is essentially me letting my fingers wander the keyboard!
Chapter One
In which Crowley gets Ready
It was a bright light, actually, no; make that an incredibly bright light. In fact, no, it was an excruciatingly luminescent light which burned through his eyelids, boring straight into his brain. Well, that's what it felt like anyway. It had rather inconsiderately woken him from a particularly enjoyable sleep much to his chagrin. Not that he really needed to sleep you understand; oh no, as a demon he didn't need any of the things mortals seemed incapable of living without, such as drinking, eating or breathing. However, Crowley found that he rather enjoyed quite a few of these things, and sleep was one he was particularly fond of. Unfortunately, it had become painfully apparent that he was going to have to abandon the comfort of his bed. He consoled himself with the knowledge that, in doing so, he was that little bit closer to lunch at the Ritz.
Crowley liked the Ritz. In fact, "liked" would possibly be more than a little bit of an understatement. He enjoyed the luxurious surroundings, the delectable food and the impeccable service, but most of all, Crowley enjoyed the company. Not that he would ever admit to that mind you; especially not to the individual himself and certainly not to anyone Down There. The very thought made Crowley's stomach do odd flip-floppy things. No, he kept that information under wraps – super industrial strength wraps with chains and very large padlocks.
A wave of a hand and the bed was made; in fact, it didn't look like anybody had slept in it – ever. In a flash the black satin monogrammed pyjamas were replaced by a flash designer suit. Yellow eyes with suspiciously shaped pupils were covered by a pair of stylish shades. Crowley studied himself in the mirror; a pleasant sight he decided, feeling quite pleased with his current mortal form. He quickly smoothed down his hair before leaving the bedroom.
He sauntered into the kitchen where a fresh pot of coffee was waiting for him. It always was, despite the fact that there was nobody there to make it. Pouring himself a mug, Crowley picked up a copy of the Times newspaper from the counter. It hadn't been there a minute ago, but it was now. He scanned the headlines, nothing of note really: some corrupt politicians, a minister running off with his mistress, all run of the mill stuff easily recognisable as the handiwork of Hastur and Ligur. Crowley sighed, throwing the paper to one side and removing himself and his coffee to the living room where he settled upon his stylish leather couch. He supposed he ought to get in some demonic activity today. Maybe he could invent some more of those ringtones for mobile phones that upset people so much. He quickly dismissed that idea as he honestly didn't think it was possible to top that frog. It had been a true work of genius that one. Oh sod it, he may as well go and bother the angel before lunchtime. Crowley felt that irritating a member of the heavenly host should count as work, even if he did take that member out to lunch afterwards. After all, he never paid for it did he?