***Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or it's characters. Because the show would be much like this if I did. Warning here for m/f.
Black and Gold
Chapter Two
"I got tortured," Ruby spat, her anger directed at Crowley. "By Alastair!"
Crowley stifled a yawn.
"You know what that's like, don't you Crowley?" Her lips were curled into a sneer.
He tensed, hands clenching into fists, but he said nothing. As attempts to get a rise out of him went, this was a good one. Crowley worked to ignore her.
"What's the matter, Crowley? Left your tongue on the torture room floor?"
"Did Alastair cut out what little sense you had left, Ruby?" he asked as calmly as he could.
"Enough!" Lilith said glaring at the both of them. She smoothed her dress and folded her hands on her lap.
Crowley and Ruby fell silent, waiting for her to speak.
"I am not very happy right now. Crowley." She turned her gaze to him. "Your plan failed. We lost the girl and we lost people. I think you should be punished."
Licking his lips, Crowley shifted on his feet.
"Now, love. We may have lost the girl but people can be replaced and if Ruby played her part…"
"I played my part, you…"
"Then the Winchesters should trust you even more," he said, talking over Ruby.
"Do they?" asked Lilith.
"Yes," Ruby said grudgingly.
"See? We're still winning over-all. One battle does not make a war." It was a testament to Crowley's salesmanship that Lilith at least seemed to be buying his pitch. The optimism on his part wasn't entirely faked. If his plan had worked exactly how he wanted, the girl would be out of Lilith's hands and Ruby would be dead. One out of two wasn't bad. Now he had to keep Lilith from putting his head on a pike. Literally.
"That is a good thing." Lilith frowned in thought. "Still, I can't just let you walk away without repercussions."
It was simple enough for a demon like Lilith to hurt him. All it took was a single gesture and Crowley was on his knees. Pain shot through his entire body. He could feel it from the tips of his fingers to his teeth. The sensation was one of being pulled apart piece by piece from the inside. His fingers dug into the carpet and his vision went black. He was distantly aware of a voice laughing. That coupled with the pain and humiliation only served to fan the flames of anger. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the pain began to fade leaving a dull throb. Crowley wiped a hand across his mouth and noted the blood. He looked up to see Lilith standing above him, smiling.
"Oh, Crowley," she said gently stroking his cheek. "I don't like having to hurt you. Don't make me do it again."
"Yes, Lilith." Outwardly, it looked like an act of contrition as he bowed his head. Inwardly, Crowley wished he could be the one to kill her.
"Good." She bent down and kissed his forehead. "You're still my favorite. You can go."
Crowley stood unsteadily, trying not to appear weak. Ruby was watching him like a hawk with a satisfied smirk on her face. He pictured gutting her and the thought made him smile. For a moment he was unsure if he would be able to travel in the typical fashion or if he'd be forced to take more mundane means of transportation but Crowley finally felt himself slip into the shadows after a bit of effort. Any other time this would be completely routine but he was struggling to control the flow of the shadows. It seemed a miracle when he landed, coughing, on the floor in his living room.
Gabriel's apartment couldn't be more different from Crowley's home if someone had designed them to be polar opposites. It very much seemed as they had been. The apartment was like a shrine to 70s kitsch, complete with disco ball. Crowley would have had a heart attack from the shag carpet alone. In Gabriel's mind it was the height of interior décor and Martha Stewart could bite him.
The angel himself was lounging in his favorite chair, munching on popcorn, and trying to watch TV; trying because nothing really was catching his attention. He had tried watching the kind of crappy sci-fi movies that he got a lot of his ideas from. Then he tried to watch one of those cooking shows where the chef yells a lot but it only made him hungry. There was a feeling creeping up on him that Gabriel was familiar with but dreaded completely. He was bored.
Sighing, he flipped through the channels once again.
"Four hundred channels and nothing's on," he grumbled, tossing the remote down on the table.
If Gabriel was honest, part of his problem was the majority of his thoughts were centered on a demon in a suit. Crowley was the most interesting thing going on right now in his life. (He could have always gone and pestered the pagans but after his falling out with Kali that left him more than a little singed he was avoiding that.) Which really just left Crowley.
And he did make a damn good cake.
Gabriel made a lot of his decisions based on food.
He decided it was time to pay Crowley another visit.
The punishment from Lilith coupled with the exertion of teleporting back home had drained Crowley. He was still in the middle of his living room floor on his hands and knees. Every time he attempted to stand, the room spun and he ended up back on the floor. It was one of the most humiliating things he had experienced in a long time. At least no one is around to see, Crowley thought.
As if on cue, Gabriel appeared in the room. He felt the angel before he heard him speak.
"Wow," Gabriel said with a slight tone of worry in his voice. "You look like hell."
"Thank you," he gritted through his teeth, glaring up at the angel.
"You're welcome. Need some help?" he asked.
"No," Crowley answered on instinct. He paused and considered the situation. "Yes."
Gabriel put an arm around Crowley's shoulders and helped him to the closest chair. He sat down with a sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. The angel watched him with a raised eyebrow.
"So, what happened to you?"
"Disciplinary action. I happened to anger my superior," Crowley said matter-of-factly.
"That seems a little harsh if you just spilled someone's coffee or something."
"It was a little worse than that. And they are demons, darling."
"True," Gabriel said, sticking his bottom lip out in thought and plopping down on the couch. Crowley eyed him warily. "I remember what the pagans were like."
"I don't want to know how an angel knows that."
"Well, see, I skipped out of Heaven and decided to join up with the pagans and convince them I was one of them."
Crowley sighed again.
"I said I didn't want to know."
"I know. I ignored you."
"Imagine my shock and surprise."
"Don't really have to," Gabriel said, eyebrows dancing.
"Why in the name of Hell are you here?"
He shrugged, "I was bored."
A horrified look came to Crowley's face.
"Please tell me this isn't going to become a regular thing."
"Oh, come on," Gabriel said. "You have to be a little glad I showed up today."
"Hn."
"Exactly. I'm hungry." He hopped up and started towards the kitchen. "Do you have any of that cake left?"
"No!" Crowley called after him. "You ate it all."
"You should bake another one," he yelled back.
Closing his eyes again, Crowley sank back into the chair.
"And I thought this day couldn't get any worse…"
Sleep is not a requirement for demons or any other supernatural creature but sometimes it just felt good. For those occasions Crowley had a king size bed with the best sheets money (not his, of course) could buy. When it became clear that all his efforts to chase the angel out of his house were wasted, he had retreated to bed after admonishing Gabriel not break anything, for God's sake.
The house was still standing when Crowley woke up the next morning. All the pain had subsided and he was feeling up to forcefully removing an archangel from his home. It turned out he didn't have to; Gabriel was nowhere to be found. There was also hardly any food to be found.
Crowley felt a twinge of disappointment and studiously ignored it.
There were things he had to do such as re-stock the fridge and pantry and clean up the mess the angel had made.
At least that was what Crowley had planned to do before the demon appeared in his kitchen.
"What do you want?" he growled.
"Lilith wants you," the demon said in a tone that let Crowley know somehow the news of his punishment had gotten around. "Now."
This time traveling via shadows was much easier. Crowley appeared outside the door of Lilith's room and knocked.
"Come in," a voice answered.
A young blonde woman dressed in black stood waiting for him with a smile. In the past, Crowley had seen Lilith switch bodies to a more mature one. It always made him feel at ease. Children were not something Crowley was fond of.
"Crowley," she said holding out her arms and spinning. "Do you like my new body?"
"It's lovely, darling."
"She's a dental hygienist," Lilith said coming up to him and running a hand across his chest. "I like it."
"It suits you very well."
"We should test it out," she said, kissing his jaw first and then his mouth. Crowley yielded to her. It wasn't the first time. In the game of survival, Crowley was willing to do anything needed of him. He dug his fingers into her hair as Lilith pressed against him. Crowley's thoughts were elsewhere as Lilith pulled him to the bed and he let his body's instincts take over. There was a small part in the back of Crowley's mind that he buried as deeply as he could that hated what he was doing. It would have made his skin crawl if he had let it.
It was quick and brutal, each of them taking what they needed for their own pleasure and giving little thought to the other. There were no murmured affections or even shouts of pleasure, just the rhythmic sounds of heavy breathing. The sheets were tangled and soaked with sweat as were their bodies when they collapsed to the mattress.
After, Crowley began gathering his clothes while Lilith lay in bed. His intention was to get out as soon as possible without making Lilith angry; he had just recently experienced that and didn't care to repeat it. Crowley had preparations to make and a kitchen to clean. He felt her run a finger up his spine and he turned to smile at her.
"Yes, love?" he asked.
"Crowley," she said still running her fingers up his back. "You are my favorite, you know that, yes?"
The question was loaded and he knew it. He nodded in affirmation.
"There are things that worry me about you lately. Your plan with Anna failed."
"Not entirely. Ruby gained more of the Winchester's trust."
"True." She propped herself up on her elbows. "It's not just that, however. I sent you to collect the Colt from Bela and you lost it."
Crowley frowned at the memory. He had played it off as though she had taken the Colt and hidden it somewhere before he was able to get to her. That wasn't what happened. Crowley had the Colt.
Bela had given it to him in an effort to save her life. It was a deal that Crowley had no way of upholding without giving away his treachery but that didn't mean he couldn't use her.
"That was a disappointment," he said finally. His punishment for that particular mishap had been severe. "I thought I had expressed my apologies for my failure."
"Of course you did." Lilith wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him from behind. "It still troubles me."
"I don't know what else to do, love," he said trying to keep calm.
"I hope, for your sake, that I don't find out before this is all over you've betrayed me, Crowley." The soft kiss she placed on his cheek was belied by her fingers digging into the skin of his neck.
"Yes."
"Good," she said happily as she let go of him and moved away.
Crowley finished putting his clothes on and left the room. He waited until he was out of the safe house and the chill air hit him before letting out the breath he had been holding. His shoulders sagged as he began walking. Once the house had faded in the distance, he stepped into the shadows and out of the light.
Few things in life could make Gabriel guilty but he did feel a little bad about the state he had left Crowley's kitchen in. He debated for a couple days about going back. Gabriel found pushing the demon's buttons enjoyable though last time he had used all the restraint he could muster. It wasn't because he felt bad since Crowley had obviously been in pain but because he wasn't up to giving Gabriel the reaction he wanted. He thought it was only fair that the demon be at full strength for their next encounter.
When Gabriel popped into Crowley's living room, he was at the wet bar making himself what looked like a very strong drink. His eyes widened at the sight of Gabriel and immediately rolled their way up to the ceiling.
"Can you at least give me a warning before you break into my house?" asked Crowley in no way expecting an actual answer. He wasn't disappointed.
"That would take all the fun out of it." Gabriel leaned against the bar and watched as Crowley downed the entire drink.
"I find your definition of fun mildly disturbing," Crowley said making another drink.
"It keeps things interesting."
"For you."
Gabriel grinned, "That's the idea."
"Of course it is…" Crowley sat down on the sofa and began considering his options as he sipped his drink. "Get your feet off the table!"
The angel paused with his feet a few inches over the table, a guilty grin on his face.
"Geez," Gabriel said putting his feet on the floor. "You need to lighten up, sugar-britches."
"Stop calling me that." He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Sure thing, buttercup."
"Oh, for crying out loud!" Crowley slammed his glass down on the table harder than he intended and jumped to his feet. "Out. Now."
"But I just got here," Gabriel said with a touch of a whine.
"Yes, and now you're leaving."
"Mm. I don't wanna."
If this was a cartoon, Crowley's face would be bright red and smoke would be coming out of his ears. He settled for glaring at Gabriel and draining his Scotch. Obviously shouting wasn't going to work with the angel. It was time to try another tactic; the silent treatment. It worked on obnoxious two year-olds and while Crowley's experience in that area was limited, he could only assume they were about the same.
"Fine," Crowley said sitting back down with the intention of saying nothing for the rest of the night.
Gabriel, on the other hand, was not so inhibited and he had a lot of stories. He proceeded to regale Crowley with them. He talked about everything from his time in Heaven to his and Kali's sex life (Crowley found himself listening more intently to those bits than needed). Crowley was beginning to think that perhaps this plan wouldn't work. The angel was an expert at talking; you only had to ask the Virgin Mary about the night she found out she was knocked up with God's kid. It was nothing like what happened in the Bible. Looking at the nearly empty bottle of liquor, Crowley made a mental note to stock up. He was also considering attempting to knock Gabriel out with the bottle when he said something that caught Crowley's attention.
"Wait." He held up a finger. "Did you really put Dean Winchester in a time loop where he died every day?"
"Oh yeah. Botulism from a taco was my personal favorite."
Crowley gave an involuntary snort of laughter.
"You're creative at annoying people, I'll give you that," he admitted.
"It's a talent I like to put to good use."
"I can see that," said Crowley standing up and taking the bottle to the trash. He turned back to face Gabriel and leaned against the kitchen doorway. "Can I trust you not to break anything if I go to sleep?"
"Hey," Gabriel said with a hurt look that was ninety percent faked and ten percent real. "I didn't break anything last time."
He narrowed his eyes and said, "Let's keep it that way."
The thought that trusting the angel in his house probably wasn't the wisest idea crossed Crowley's mind and followed him up to bed but last time had gone fine, really, and the past few weeks had been hard on him.
A loud beeping noise woke Crowley up the next morning and the first thing he did was curse Gabriel, himself, and the makers of fire alarms. The second thing he did was jump out of bed and rush down the stairs and into the kitchen. Smoke filled the room. Gabriel was waving a dish towel over the stove. Something black and smoldering was sitting on top of it. As soon as Crowley stepped into the kitchen, Gabriel turned towards him with a huge, sheepish grin.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Crowley yelled.
"I was making you breakfast." Gabriel picked up the skillet and held it in his direction. "Pancakes."
"Pancakes? You decided to make pancakes?" he said through gritted teeth.
"I thought I'd be nice," said Gabriel.
"By burning down my house?"
"I didn't burn it down. There was just a small fire."
Crowley looked at the angel standing in his kitchen then snapped his fingers. The fire alarm exploded and the beeping died. He snatched an apron off a hook on the wall and put it on over the t-shirt and boxers he was still wearing.
"Just…let me handle this," Crowley said waving the new skillet he pulled out at Gabriel.
"Alright, alright!" Gabriel took his usual seat on the countertop. "This is your show."
"You're damn right it is."
Gabriel watched the demon meticulously line up the ingredients and measure them out. He decided against pointing out the fact Crowley seemed to be humming Frank Sinatra under his breath.
"I never thought a demon would cook," said Gabriel after remaining silent as long as he could. (This was about five minutes. The record still was the time Michael and Raphael stole his horn and wouldn't give it back unless he was quiet for an hour. Gabriel had lasted thirty minutes and decided the horn wasn't worth it.)
"Everyone has their hobbies," Crowley grumbled as he flipped the pancakes.
"Yeah, but I expected your hobbies to be feeding people to hellhounds or taking long strolls through the fires of Hell," Gabriel said moving to peek over the demon's shoulder.
"I do those things as well." Crowley pulled the skillet from the stove and Gabriel had to jump back to avoid being hit by it.
"And make pancakes." Gabriel cocked an eyebrow.
"At least make yourself useful and start setting the table. The plates are there," he said ignoring Gabriel's tone of disbelief and pointed to a cabinet.
"You know," Gabriel said after he had set the table and they were sitting down, "this could be the start of a bad joke. An angel and a demon…"
Crowley forcefully jabbed a piece of pancake on his plate. "I thought this was a bad joke."
"Nah, but I know some great ones."
"It's pointless to ask you not to tell them, isn't it?
"Oh yeah," Gabriel said around a mouthful of food. "So the Twelve Apostles go to a strip club…"
Gabriel was right; the scene in the kitchen could have been the start of a bad joke. Crowley wondered what was becoming of his life and tried to keep any hint of amusement off his face. It ended up being more of a challenge than he had expected it to be. They sat at the table for the rest of the morning and if Gabriel convinced Crowley to tell a joke or two he picked up in Hell, he would never admit it later.
