Ugh I'm SO sorry guys. I know I suck. Thank you so much for your patience and love :) I'm sorry if bits seemed rushed or sloppy. This chapter was a bear to get out for multiple reasons: I didn't know what to put in there, I just want to skip ahead to the exciting plotty stuff, and also I'm incredibly distracted. It's summer, I went to Germany, I'm hanging out with friends, I'm going to college soon, I have a lot of TV shows I want to watch, blah blah blah.
BUT HEY IF ANYONE IS GOING TO DASHCON THIS WEEKEND HIT ME UP SO WE CAN HANG :D
As always, fanart and gifsets are always welcome, as are ideas on ships and plot points.
Also, happy first birthday to the story :) I suck- I definitely had wanted to be done within a year XD
Guess what? I made a playlist for this story at /ijump4life/ celestial-touch. It's basically just songs to strip to. It'll be a work in progress, so feel free to suggest songs to add!
Wanna know what moves I'm talking about? Here's the website I use for pole dancing:
Also this is what Sam's pendant looks like (not my design): art /Dark-Angel-Ring-108916542
Follow me on Tumblr at tolkhien for updates, fanart, and visual guides.
It was a bit weird, to be back in the club at night time. During that day it was completely empty and quiet, and it seemed like a peaceful retreat. Now, with bodies filling up the available space and music pumping out of the speakers, it seemed more like a nightclub than ever. Dean and Sam squeezed through the crowd, unsure of where they were supposed to go. Tonight was their "studying" lesson, where all they had to do was watch their tutors on stage.
"Hey… why don't we sit on different sides of the stage? Lucifer and Cas aren't gonna be in the same spot anyway." Sam suggested; the club rapidly filling up with customers. He actually wanted to somewhat focus on their "assignment" for the night, and he was sure Dean would find some way to screw around.
Dean narrowed his eyes for a moment, but then just shrugged and looked away. "Alright. Just stay out of trouble." After giving him a look that clearly meant 'trouble=Lucifer', Dean ambled over to the bar to get a beer before settling down in a seat. Sam forwent the alcohol, instead, he went to sit in a seat on the right-hand side of the stage.
They got here later than they planned, so they didn't have to wait long before the show started. Soon enough, the lights flashed once and then dimmed, and Crowley's voice seeped out of the speakers. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Supernatural. Our boys have a celestial touch, and tonight, they're all yours."
Enthusiastic cheers greeted the first group on stage as the curtain rolled back. Neither Cas nor Lucifer were in this group, so Dean doesn't have to pay as much attention. However, now that he actually knows the strippers- somewhat- he feels compelled to learn about them, too. Sam was just planning to study everyone anyway.
The first group included Camael, Raziel, Jophiel, Zadkiel, and Ariel, and the second group consisted of Raguel, Haniel, Gabriel, Uriel, and Michael. All of the dancers used the same basic moves; the same little spins and turns. But the way each one put them together, and added their own little flairs, was what made each one different and, to be honest, incredible. If they watched carefully, the brothers could actually pick out different mannerisms and techniques in each of the dancers. Camael used his brute strength a lot more than the dancers- his muscles were constantly being used in place of momentum or gravity. Ariel was light and graceful, and he seemed to literally fly around the pole; completely effortless. Raguel seemed to be a climber- he rarely ever touched the floor, and preferred to swing and dance his way up the pole. Michael was powerful and serious, and while he smiled at the customers and winked he seemed focused on his dance, every move purposeful.
Of course, whichever two dancers not occupying a pole and dancing at the front of the stage were a sight to see. Gabriel was completely shameless, using Haniel almost like a human pole, grinding on him and taking his shirt off for him. Raziel and Zadkiel, as neither had a shirt on to take off, were very creative in finding ways to tease the audience. Sam couldn't hold back a startled laugh as Zadkiel tugged Raziel across the stage for a filthy kiss, which alone earned them at least two hundred dollars from the whooping crowd. Dean merely shook his head, amusement and apprehension warring in his gut. To calm that he took another gulp of beer, watching as the group waved goodbye and hurriedly collected their cash.
Finally, the third (and final) group walked on stage. Cas, Lucifer, Azrael, and Raphael stepped onto the stage as Crowley read their names over the speakers. As the "finale" group they were the most important, and usually the best dancers were in it. Of course, as all of the strippers were amazing, that meant that the group constantly changed, but Cas and Lucifer were almost always in it.
Cas and Azrael took the poles, while Raphael and Lucifer went up front. A total of four songs played- as usual- as the strippers worked their magic. The finale group probably made more than either of the last two groups, which was no surprise. They had the most screams, the most bills, and the most touch-attempts. There was a reason that this group closed off the night, and Crowley knew how to milk a crowd.
Cas was obviously the star of this group, in Dean's opinion. He managed to make everything he did simultaneously effortless and strong, carefree and pointed. As Cas spun and twisted around the pole, Dean could see glimpses of his bare chest and calm face. Near the end of the last sone, Cas climbed all the way to the top of the pole. Hooking both legs around the pole, he let go of it with his hands, and spun into a tailspin all the way to the floor. Just as he was about to crack onto the hard wood of the stage, he swung his arms up and grasped the pole again, sending his lower body swinging around the pole in what Dean recognized as a Chopsticks position. The crowd gasped and cheered, and Dean couldn't help grin with something like pride. Cas was damn good at his job, and even though Cas was his friend, Dean hoped he never had to dance with him- he would look like a half paralyzed monkey next to him.
Sam, meanwhile, was studying Lucifer. The blonde was working the crowd at the front to death, as only he could. His fly was down and every inch of his hipbones were out by the end of the first song, and from the hands that kept reaching up to try and touch him, the customers loved it. Raphael worked just as hard next to him, and between the adorable smile the brunette had on and Lucifer's 'pure sex' vibe, the crowd couldn't give them enough money. At one point, Lucifer grabbed Raphael and tugged him closer, before gently pushing him onto the floor. Raphael chuckled and let himself be manhandled, and Lucifer climbed on top of the other dancer. Rubbing their hips together, Lucifer let his hands roam up and down Raphael's chest, even going so far as to unzip his pants. A moment later Lucifer stood back up, pulling the other man with him, and they continued dancing. Sam was impressed- if he were in Raphael's spot he's not sure if he would've been able to stand back up.
And then, they were walking off the stage, collecting their bills, and waving goodbye. Dean blinked a couple times, reaching automatically for his empty beer bottle and then giving up and thunking his head on the table. Sam ran a hand down his face, trying to form a mental list of notes in his mind besides things like 'Holy fucking shit.' As far as lessons went, it was both a failure and a success.
'Well, that certainly was informative.' Dean thought sourly, unwanted feelings rising up and clouding his mind. 'It was informative that I have some serious problems.' Seriously- Cas was his teacher. His coworker. His friend. So what if the guy was extremely attractive, especially while he was stripping? Shaking his head, Dean leaned back in his chair. He hadn't done anything… with guys in years. He had no wish to try that again. None at all. So why was he always doing this to himself over Cas?
Surreptitiously scanning the club, Dean spotted plenty of dancers- Jophiel twirling the long red hair of a female customer, Raziel winking at a male customer, Raphael entertaining a whole booth of giggling girls- but not Cas. 'Of course you're not gonna see Cas, he's probably busy shacking up with some rich stranger.' And of course that was perfectly fine. That was his job, wasn't it? His job wasn't to entertain Dean all night, after all.
Settling down lower in his chair with his arms crossed, Dean suddenly felt a hand sweep across his shoulders, right to left. "Hey, sweet stuff. Back for more of me?" He gritted his teeth as he recognized Gabriel's obnoxious drawl. He should have known the dancer would find him. 'God damnit.'
"Nope. I guess this is part of the training." he shot back, jerking his shoulder out from underneath Gabriel's hand. He pointedly ignored Gabriel as he swung around to stand in front of Dean, smirking like the Cheshire Cat. "Just here to observe, and all that stuff." Fixing a glare on the smug blonde, Dean tried to think of reasons for not punching the dancer. He wasn't too successful.
"You know," Gabriel continued, ignoring Dean's words completely as he came to a halt in front of Dean, crossing his arms, "since we're gonna be co-workers and dressing room neighbors now, I figured we should get to know each other." The words were said with an innocent grin that was somehow more unnerving than if Gabriel had scowled while saying them.
Crossing his arms as well, and refusing to stand and rise to the bait, Dean responded, "Really?"
Gabriel nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. Like what shampoo do you use?" He reached out and ran his hand quickly through Dean's hair, earning a forceful smack on his arm. Laughing, Gabriel continued, "Come on, princess, get that stick outta your ass! Just trying to have a little fun!" The twinkle in his eyes was looking less mischievous and more insane every second to Dean.
Rolling his eyes, Dean complained, "Can't you go find someone else to bother? I'm sure there's plenty of people who would actually like to be around you. Unlike me." He paused, hoping to get through to the dancer.
From the same smug grin and the chuckles, it was obvious it didn't work. "Yea, but where's the fun in that, when I have my favorite newbie to tease!" Dean took a deep breath, balling up his fists. 'Man, what I wouldn't give to knock this guy out.' But hey, he was learning self-control more and more every day, right?
"Gabriel." The rumbling voice behind him was like a breath of fresh air, and Dean could've cried with joy at seeing Cas's face. The other dancer was standing tall and tense behind the chair, and he was giving a death glare that Dean was quickly dubbing 'Cas's smiting face'. "Leave Dean alone. He is my student, and is supposed to be observing the dancers."
Grinning brightly, Gabriel threw open his arms. "Cassie! Relax! I'm just poking fun at Deano here. He really is too easy to rile up." He winked at Dean, who then got up to stand next to Cas, clearly showing who he considered his friend. A sly look quickly crossed the blonde's face, but he just winked jauntily and walked off, presumably to find someone else to prey on.
Dean turned towards Cas, running a hand through his hair. "Uh, thanks for that. Not sure I would've gotten out of there without throwing some fists." Cas simply nodded in response. He was wearing his same tan trench coat, open over his bare chest. His hair still looked like he had wild bed head- or sex hair- and he was, as always, was way up close in Dean's personal bubble (which, oddly, he didn't seem to mind so much anymore). It might be strange, but to Dean it seemed like the look for Cas. He would look weird in anything else- like his workout clothes for the lessons.
It took him a moment to realize that he was staring at Cas for a bit too long to be considered normal. Looking away while clearing his throat, Dean searched for a new topic of conversation. The club was still at full swing even after midnight, with winged strippers roaming around the excited crowd. As he saw Camael escorting an elegant looking woman up the spiral staircase, he blurted out the first thing that came into his mind. "So, do you ever have to bring the customers up there?"
If Cas was surprised by the question, he didn't show it. "No. Here at the club, each dancer has a choice whether or not he wants to engage in those… activities. I choose not to- it's not something that would be enjoyable to me." Even though his deep voice still managed to cut across the music, Dean would never admit to anyone that he may have purposefully moved closer to the dancer. To hear him, of course.
He would also never admit the warm curl of… something that came into his chest as Cas explained it to him. That Cas thought those sketchy appointments were beneath him, and that he refused to go down to that level. No, it most certainly was not about that. Dean put it down to the fact that he was allowed to skip out of the "having sex with strangers every night" activity.
"Awesome. I'll most likely opt outta that, then." he replied with a grin.
Cas's lips quirked up- which was as good as a full-blown smile for him- and he shook his head slightly. "I thought you would." was all the dancer said. "Anyway, I have to go and meet with more customers, or else Crowley will get angry. Don't forget to meet us after the club closes- you can wait up here by the stage."
Dean nodded, waving as Cas turned and waded back into the crowd, almost immediately getting flagged down by a businessman in a well-tailored suit. At that point he turned away, instead opting to go sit at the bar to have a good drink. For once, though, he didn't feel like he needed it- his nerves were settled and his hands weren't shaking. Not even Balthazar's quip about him being a Ken doll managed to piss him off. Hell, this might've been the best mood he'd been in all day.
'Deciding to sit on the other side of the stage as Dean was a good idea.' Sam thought to himself as he spotted Lucifer weaving his way over to his chair. He knew- and so did Lucifer- that Dean was none too fond of the blonde, and preferred as little contact with him as possible. He wanted that same thing for Sam, but unfortunately that wouldn't work as he was Sam's tutor.
"Hey Sam. How'd you like the show?" Lucifer asked as he reached Sam. He immediately swung a leg over Sam and settled down on his knees, looking expectantly at Sam like this was the most normal thing to be doing. Which, he supposed, for Lucifer it was.
Stuttering a bit, Sam answered, "Oh, yea, yea, it was really good. You'll have to teach me how to do that move, the one that looks like you're walked up the air." He felt proud of himself for managing to get out a normal sentence as Lucifer started walking his hands up and down Sam's thighs.
He had always liked girls. It was Dean who seemed to have some big gay panic going on. Sam was comfortable with himself, and he knew himself well enough, in his own opinion. 'So why does Lucifer always manage to get a reaction out of me?' He didn't have an answer, and by looking at Lucifer, the only explanation that he could come up with was that the dancer was hot to either gender.
Grinning, Lucifer glanced up at Sam through his eyelashes. "Yea? I can do that." He nodded almost absentmindedly, giving Sam a sly smirk. "There's still plenty to learn from the master." Sam chuckled at that, dutifully ignoring the wandering fingers. Lucifer was more touchy than usual, and it made Sam shift in his seat. Searching for a conversation away from the pole dancing and lap-sitting, Sam caught a gleam of metal from Lucifer's chest.
Sam had never been up close and personal with a shirtless Lucifer before, so he was a bit surprised to see that, upon further inspection, he definitely had his right nipple pierced. 'To be honest, it shouldn't be that surprising.' he thought. A silver ring caught the dim lights of the club, flashing subtly every so often. Seeing Sam's studying look, the blonde grinned. "Like it? I got it while I was drunk one night a couple months ago. I kept it in for the hell of it, and now it helps with my image." He winked, and Sam couldn't resist a huff of laughter. He wasn't wrong about that.
Lucifer cut an impressive figure, even in the club surrounded by the other dancers. He was one of the tallest, and his spiky hair made him look even taller. With his left ear and- apparently- right nipple pierced, his leather dog collar, and his motorcycle, he was the epitome of 'sexy bad guy'. Sam was sure that it worked on almost every single girl in here, and a lot of the guys, too. God knows he'd been having confusing reactions to the licentious blonde recently.
With a flash of guilt, Jess popped into Sam's mind, wearing a pissed expression. Even if she had encouraged them earlier to get these jobs, she most likely would not be okay with the outrageous amount of flirting that was going on. Because there was definitely something going on with Lucifer, and if Sam wasn't careful, he could cause some deep shit. He swallowed as Lucifer's hand swept yet again up his thigh. His subconscious was right- this had gone far enough.
Lucifer obviously didn't know where the limit was. Or he didn't care where it was. Either way, Sam had to put an end to this; it was already getting out of hand. Enjoying spending time with Lucifer was one thing; allowing the dancer to shamelessly flirt and hit on him without saying anything was another. He just hoped Lucifer wasn't going to be nasty to him about it afterwards. That was just what he didn't need- first day on the job, and the best dancer hating his guts.
"Look… Lucifer…." Sam sighed, pushing a hand firmly onto his shoulder. The blonde paused, studying Sam with a cocked head. "You're a cool guy, and I like hanging out with you. You make me laugh, and you're not a bad guy. But… you need to stop with the flirting. Or at least tone it down a little bit." He paused, biting his lip. His conflicting feelings about the promiscuous blonde stripper did not need to see the light of day. "I have a girlfriend… Jess… and I love her. So… understand that, please, or…." Sam trailed off with a shrug, not really sure what he was intending to do if Lucifer didn't listen.
Watching the dancer, he saw his eyes narrow infinitesimally for a fraction of a second, before Lucifer fell back into his easy smirk. "Okay, okay, I can respect that. True love, and all that." Shrugging, Lucifer stood up, brushing non-existent dirt from his front. Sam frowned, sensing something beneath Lucifer's calm exterior. He waited for the blonde to say something else, a sarcastic quip or something, but nothing came. Lucifer smiled, incredibly soft looking for the usual jokester, and took a step back. "I'm serious. I know when to stop. Can't say I'm not disappointed," At this his smile turned a bit wry, and he looked more like his usual self, "but your heart's in the right place, Sam."
With that, Lucifer mussed Sam's hair. "So, I'll see you at the little meeting after closing, right?" Sam, still a little wide-eyed, nodded, and watched as Lucifer walked away deeper into the club. He let out a deep breath he didn't know he had been holding, swiping both hands over his face. Well, that had been easier than expected. Almost too easy…. He certainly hoped that the dancer was being truthful, and that he would respect Sam's wishes. Of course, you could never tell with Lucifer. He supposed only time would tell….
Hours later, all of the patrons had finally been ejected from the club. Sam was yawning hugely, and Dean had even gotten bored at the bar, as Balthazar had only tried to annoy him the longer he was there. He hadn't even drank enough whiskey to get him drunk, and now all he wanted to do was go home and crawl into his bed. Well, his couch.
Around 2:30, the dancers started filing up the spiral staircase from their dressing rooms, each toting a duffle bag of sorts. They sat in various chairs around the stage, some splitting off noticeably into separate groups. Dean had been mentally practicing the strange names of the dancers, figuring it would come in handy once he started. Camael, Uriel, Michael, and Zadkiel all huddled together on the edge of the group, whispering and shooting obvious looks over at Dean and Sam. The really quiet one ('Azrael!') was in the back of the group, sitting low in his chair with his arms crossed. Balthazar, Raziel, Haniel, Jophiel, the kid ('Ariel, right?'), Raphael, and Raguel were all in one big clump in the middle, talking and laughing with way too much energy for this late at night. Cas and Lucifer came to stand by their students, and Gabriel followed, moving to try and squeeze between the two brothers. A small tussle followed, where a smirking Gabriel finally just pulled a chair over and sat down right next to Dean.
A few minutes later, Crowley finally came down from his office, walking over to stand in front of the group. Even Hound made his way over from his corner, coming to stand behind Crowley. "Lovely night, boys, well done." he began, a small smattering of applause following. "This will be real quick, I promise. I've just got a couple of announcements." He paused, waiting for the last of the murmuring to quiet down.
"So, first of all, I thought you all would like to know that a Ms. Bela Talbot has been officially banned from the club." This news was met with various cheers and hoots, and Sam and Dean looked at each other, wondering who this woman was.
Seeing the confusion, Cas leaned forward and explained. "She comes here two or three times a week. Incredibly rich, throws a lot of money around, but… she's a bitch." Dean smirked at Cas's cursing, never really hearing him do it before. "Very handsy, and won't take no for an answer. I'm glad someone finally did something about it."
Uriel echoed Cas's words. "It's about time that someone did something about that horrid woman." he scowled. Various murmurs of agreement sounded through the crowd. Even Balthazar was nodding enthusiastically at the news.
"I liked her- she was witty." Raphael piped up, earning him a smack on the head from Raguel.
Before a whole new discussion could form, Crowley loudly cleared his throat. "Also- I'd like to officially introduce the two new dancers. Dean, Sam." He gestured for them to come in front of the group, a small smirk on his face (as per usual).
The two- Dean more hesitantly than Sam- made their way to where Crowley was. Some of the dancers cheered, some clapped, while a certain pair of obnoxious blondes wolf whistled. Sam gave a small wave, while Dean simply smiled. A large majority- mostly the big group in the middle- of the dancers actually seemed to be happy to see them. Azrael and Uriel looked indifferent, while Zadkiel, Camael, and Michael stared in a way that made Dean bristle.
"Dean, and Sam." Crowley said again, pointing to them in turn, "Trained by Castiel and Lucifer, and now, they're going to be full-time dancers!" Again a smattering of applause. "Their first day on the job will be next Monday. So, as is custom, they'll get their wings, costumes, and names tonight." Now the dancers were cheering again, and even Michael's little group was clapping.
Dean and Sam weren't sure what that meant, and they watched warily as Crowley rummaged in a cardboard box on the side of the stage that definitely hadn't been there a few minutes ago. He pulled out two long, plastic-wrapped packages, handing one to each of the boys. "These are your wings, which will be part of your 'uniform'."
Examining them as Crowley turned around to dig through the box again, Dean let out a small huff of laughter. He had wings. They were mottled brown wings, with golden and white streaks spread over them. Opening up the package, he felt them. They were incredibly soft, and looked like they were made from real feathers. Hell, maybe they were. Glancing over at Sam's still-unopened bag, he saw that they black on top and faded to brown, with brown streaks throughout. If he was being honest, both sets of wings kicked ass.
Next, Crowley handed them each a small stack of clothing. "And here's the rest of your uniform." Sam had two pairs of black shorts, ones that didn't even reach his knees. Great. Then he had a silver pendant on a thick black rope. Looking closer, he saw that it was in the shape of a pair of wings, pointing straight up, with a large black gem in the middle. It actually looked really cool, and it was big enough that it would be visible on stage. But… 'There's no shirt.' Sam suppressed a sigh. Looked like he'd be one of the shirtless dancers. Looking over at his brother, he saw- with a bit of jealousy- that Dean had both shirts and shorts. The shirts were tight, dark green v-necks, and they went with two pairs of short khaki shorts. Dean didn't look pleased with the length of the shorts, but overall his 'uniform' definitely could've been worse.
"Thank you." Sam said for the both of them, gesturing with the clothing. A child-like excitement was growing in him, from a combination of being given things and the start of something new. He didn't bother to hide his smile from Crowley.
Crowley tipped his head. "You're welcome." He clapped his hands together, and the murmuring that had grown while the uniform exchange was happening quickly died down. "Now, the fun part." he announced. "As you know, everyone at the club sports an archangelic name. Not only does it protect their real identity, it also adds to the atmosphere." Crowley paused. "Some came to our club with their names, actually. But most were given them, like you two."
Walking towards Sam, Crowley did a mock flourish that had titters coming from Gabriel and Ariel. "Sam, you are now Jeremial. He is the angel in charge of helping people with life changes, choosing the right path, and prophetic visions." He clapped Sam on the shoulder before moving onto Dean. "You, Dean, are now Chamuel. He is the angel of relationships, healing negative emotions, and helping people whose hearts are too hardened to love."
The smirk at the end of that sentence had Dean's hackles raised. He was positive that Crowley was jabbing at him, somehow. Either about not having a girl like Sam, or not having any family left, or something. Dean certainly had his fair share of 'negative emotions', even if he didn't like to show it. He narrowed his eyes at the manager, still managing to give him a small smile and nod.
Clapping started up again in the small crowd, and the brothers made their way back to their chairs near their tutors. Crowley raised his hands up for silence yet again. "Alright, alright you lot, settle down. Just one more announcement." His voice took on a supremely annoyed tone, and his face hardened. "Whoever thinks that drawing signs that say 'The D is in here', complete with a picture of a cock on the private room doors, stop it, or I will cut your cock off and hang it on my wall."
Laughter spread throughout the dancers, and even Azrael was grinning. Sam checked, and yep- there it was- Dean was snickering behind his hand. Figures. Gabriel, however, was laughing the hardest. Turning around and raising an eyebrow, Sam saw the smaller man almost bent double, smacking his leg and wheezing around his giggles. 'So, Gabriel probably did it.' Sam reasoned, shaking his head and turning back to the front.
Just as Crowley opened his mouth to say something else- hopefully a dismissal- the metal door of the club swung open with a bang. Heads turned almost simultaneously towards it- usually you have to be let in from the inside. Four figures walked through the door and over to the crowd; two females and one male. One female had long, dark brown hair, and the other had long blonde hair, and walked with a cocky strut in their step. The males had short, dark hair, and they, too, exuded an air of smugness. All four were well dressed and well-groomed, looking like they had just stepped out of a magazine. The tiny group stopped just behind the first row of chairs, simply staring at the dancers.
Hound made a move to go at the group, but Crowley held up a hand. After twenty or so seconds of silence, he said, "You must be some of Abaddon's." The tense way he held his shoulders showed this was not a good thing. The whole club had fallen silent, each dancer watching the exchange with some amount of apprehension. Dean and Sam wondered what "Abaddon's" meant, and why the air was suddenly thick enough to cut with a knife.
The taller of the two males (Lee Pace) stepped forward, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Yes, yes we are." His voice was smooth as honey, but there was an undertone that suggested danger. "I'm Azazel, and they are Alistair," he pointed to the shorter male (Sebastian Stan), "Meg," he pointed to the darker haired female, "and Ruby." He finished by gesturing to the blonde woman.
There was silence after the introductions, as if the new group were waiting to hear names in return. They didn't. After a few moments, Alistair spoke up. "Abaddon had heard that you were having some… trouble over here. Wanted us to come find out how everything was going." His eyes darted around the group, watching for some reaction to the obvious prod. There was none.
Crowley, oily businessman that he was, just smirked. "I don't know what you're talking about. Everything is perfectly fine. Look, we even have some more recruits." He gestured to the Winchesters, who were immediately studied harshly by four pairs of sharp eyes. Sam fidgeted under the scrutiny, while Dean settled for glaring at Crowley for putting them on the spot.
"That's cute, but we all know that's not what we're talking about." Meg snickered, crossing her arms. At her side, Ruby smiled sharply, a knowing glint in her eye. "We know about the murders, Crowley." Meg continued, nonchalantly examining her fingernails.
Immediately, all of the dancers in the room stiffened, quiet mutters and hisses spreading through the group. Crowley actually looked shocked, but tried to cover it. "And how, pray tell, did you find out about that?"
Ruby waved a hand. "It doesn't matter how, does it? Either way, we know, and Abaddon says that it won't be long before you lose too many dancers to keep this place running." She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head, all bluntness and sharpness.
More whispering broke out at that, and Crowley glared down at his dancers. "Well, then Abaddon would be wrong." he declared, trying to get control back over the situation. "The last one was almost a month ago, and nothing has happened since."
"Whatever you say." Alistair said condescendingly. The small group snickered at that, and a tense silence enveloped Crowley's dancers. Sam could practically hear the doubts springing into peoples' minds. What if it wasn't over? Who would be next? Who's doing this?
The next one to speak was Zadkiel. "And how do we know that you aren't killing our dancers?" Various affirmations and quiet accusations could be heard.
Azazel smirked, shaking his head. "Please. We don't need to kill your strippers to see your business fall. Besides, that's much too messy." At that the small group started walking back to the door, conversation obviously finished. A loaded silence followed them out, punctuated only by the slam of the metal door.
Crowley shifted his weight on the stage, obviously agitated. "Well, then, I think that's enough for one night. See you all tomorrow." He turned around and went straight up to his office, anger in every tense step. The room exploded with noise as soon as he was out of sight, the dancers throwing blame and insults at the intruders.
Dean and Sam immediately turned to Cas and Lucifer. "Who were those guys?" Sam asked, at the exact same time that Dean questioned, "Who the hell is Abaddon?"
Cas answered Dean first. "Abaddon is the owner of an escort business a few minutes into the city. It's very high class, very expensive, and very popular. For obvious reasons, they detest strippers, and think of us as beneath them." Derision and scorn bled through every word, and Dean could see that the group really ruffled Cas's feathers.
"Yea, basically they're total dicks." Lucifer offered, making Cas's lips turn up. "But those are the main escorts she uses, her 'favored ones'." He shrugged, and exaggerated apathy surrounding his words. "They are loved by the people, and in turn love themselves even more." Sam chuckled, but Dean just shook his head.
He turned back towards Cas, quietly asking, "Do you think that they're behind the murders?" They obviously seemed likely candidates. They knew about the murders that not even the police did, they were assholes, and they basically threatened Crowley with more deaths. To Dean, they seemed to be the culprits.
Cas, however, just shrugged. "I don't know, Dean. They could be. But we would have seen them on the tapes coming into the club." He shook his head, shrugging again. "They could be. They might not be. Either way, I have a feeling that something bad is going to happen soon."
'Well isn't that just comforting as hell.'