BUREAUCRACY IN ACTION
Notes
From now on, you can pretty much expect some smut in every chapter. The more explicit parts are deleted to comply with the M rating. If you want the full version of this chapter and the uncensored versions of the future smutty chapters, find my account on archiveofourown as goodgirl_astray
Disclaimer
Supernatural is a television series, created by Eric Kripke, produced by Kripke Enterprises, Wonderland Sound and Vision and Warner Bros. Television, distributed by Warner Bros. Television
Borrowed a line from the awesome BBC show "The Thick of It". It's going to be almost painful to see Peter Capaldi as the Doctor not cursing like fucking Malcolm Tucker!
Chapter 9 - The Second Time
The second time she visited his dungeon, it didn't come as much of a shock. It was a very pleasant surprise nonetheless.
She was wearing something far more adept to the purpose of her visit. A nice fairly short black dress with a long zipper that went almost down to her cute arse of hers that was going to get so much use once he was out of those pesky chains.
"This looks remarkably like a booty call," he said, as if complaining.
Naomi was with her back to him, giving him the best view as she slowly unzipped her dress. She turned her head to look at him, stopping with the zip down to her shoulder blades, and his heart sort of stopped with it. His instincts hadn't let him down before, and some Hannibal/Clarice interaction couldn't harm. He had to act like the dangerous beast that he was, while she had to uphold her part of pure of heart and strong of will beauty.
"I wouldn't want to impose," she said, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh, impose away, darling. You did it so well the last time."
"Thank you. May I?" she asked, pulling the zipper a little way down.
Oh, she figured out that he liked being in control! If he had to be honest, it wasn't difficult.
"You may. But don't take off the dress."
She did as told, went closer, with the back of he dress open in a generous V. He sniffed as discreetly as he could. Her human scent was very appealing, whatever French perfume she was using was barely noticeable under the scent of her arousal. Well, well, well, she was definitely enjoying her part of the role play.
"Let's try a variation. Like last time, but with your back to me."
Naomi performed her part with the efficiency he would expect from her in any other situation. He watched her composure and the word that came to mind was: serenity. They were engaged in the most intimate of all human relationships, both trapped in their human hosts, yet to his eyes she was more of an angel now than when he had looked at her true form. Crowley pulled the heavy levers of his mind and forced the lucid thoughts away. He wanted to enjoy the limited contact his chains allowed without having thoughts and analyses running distracting him from the exquisite sensations her fingers and her lips were leaving on his skin.
... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ... ... ...
Naomi straightened up, started moving her hips in that pagan cadence, like Salome's hypnotic dance. This time, Crowley couldn't hold back the roar. He came inside her again, explosively, with the same frustration of not being able to hold her hips while he was the one to make the final move.
He recovered his lucidity faster than he wished, and a thought struck him.
"Aren't you worried that you might get pregnant?" he asked, while he was softening inside her.
Naomi twisted her body so that they were still connected, but she could look at him. She seemed amused at the question.
"No," she answered smiling, and when he frowned in concentration, she laughed before speaking. "Oh, that mind of yours never stops does it?!"
She stood up and began the same cleaning routine. She was wiping him when she spoke again, mirth evident in her voice.
"Are you worried that I'm going to use your seed to create a clone army?"
He wasn't worried about that particular eventuality until she put the image in his mind! If anything was to be learned about this being, that was that she made her plans well. Either she had some plans with his... fluids, or she had taken measures so that nothing happened. He decided not to think about it and change the subject.
"How is Hell?" he asked, watching her get dressed. Well, zipped up really.
"Chaotic," she answered.
Crowley gritted his teeth at that. All his well established, orderly hell. He could just imagine Abbadon messing up everything. He didn't even want to think about all the work he would have to put into rebuilding consumer confidence. They had probably defaulted on deals, made some awful showy appearances that made humans more weary of dealing with his people in the future. He was going to have to mop up a fucking hurricane of piss from all of these neurotics!
"Heaven?" he asked, expecting the answer that would make him slightly less annoyed.
"The same."
He was relieved to hear it. He could imagine the angels going crazy on Earth, full of grace but essentially homeless.
"Why aren't you doing anything?" when she didn't answer he went on. "Of all the things you could do with your after life... you come here. In all the senses of the word."
Naomi smiled that sad little smile of hers that touched him on some uncomfortably deep level. She soon shrugged it off as she looked into his eyes, and the smile became lighter, almost cheery.
"It's the first time off I've had in millennia. I'm on holiday and I decided to enjoy myself."
"No one would certainly find you here," he said, pretending to sulk because he was just a part of her camouflage.
"Don't pout. The Winchesters could find me, and I doubt they would welcome me. And, despite the angel sygils around this place, I sensed at least another angelic presence around here, who would totally ruin my deceased status. Besides, you can't possibly imagine it's easy to get through their defences. Abaddon couldn't penetrate the heavy duty protection they have."
"But you can?"
"It's mostly protection from the dark side, some anti-angelic stuff. But the anti-human devices they have take just concentration, a good grasp of engineering, and agility."
She was actually smirking. In a very self congratulatory way.
"You have agility," he conceded, looking in a very knowing way at her legs and hips. "A real cow girl..."
"Still, getting in is easier, leaving is hard. On the way back my legs are kind of unsteady."
He looked at her very carefully. Her tone had been somewhere in the vicinity of flippant, but not totally. From her, he wasn't immune to flattery. She tried to make it about sex, but "leaving is hard" had sounded a hell of a lot more serious than that.
"Seriously, Crowley, you have to get out of here," she said in his silence.
"I'm in stale mate at the moment, darling. Do you have any of your bright ideas?"
"No," she answered. "Once you're out, how are you going to take out Abaddon?"
"I have some plans," he lied.
"You wonderfully young demon. I used to be glad that Lilith hasn't taught you much history."
She used to be glad. Which meant that there was something she knew and he should know, too. Crowley perked up at this. She had been right to say that he definitely her alive and useful.
"Why aren't there any more Knights of Hell?" she asked, in the professorial tone he found arousing even when she was annoying the hell out of him.
"Bird flu?" he opined.
"You can do better than that," she said laughing at the notion.
Crowley would never get tired of making her laugh. He might use a lot of tickling when he was going to torture her.
"How do things usually work in our world? What can kill a powerful being?"
"Something equally powerful. Blood relatives. Something that has the same origin. The Knights were as strong as the Archangels, so... other Knights, but there are no others left - good thing, too. Legends say that the Archangels killed the Knights. No Archangels left, either. "
Naomi flinched a little at that.
"Let's not go around believing all the legends," she said. "Cain himself killed the Knights with the First Blade."
"I'd like to hire him to finish the job, darling, but I have this intuition that I can't pay what the father or murder charges."
"Probably not," she agreed. "But you can use his weapon."
"Where is it?"
"That... I don't know. Crowley, I don't know everything," she added when he was about to voice his doubts.
"No, my lady, but you have a curious mind. Very rare in your race," he said.
He enjoyed seeing her flustered at his words and his unusually earnest tone, but he couldn't much sustain that kind of conversation. He reverted to his default bawdy disposition.
"You were curious about making love to me. We got that out of the way," he said.
"Twice," she interrupted him with an expression of fake adoration.
"Aren't you curious how it feels to go down on me?"
"Oh, I don't think that would be fair without you having a chance to show me the meaning of silver tongue demon. And..."
She leaned to whisper the rest of the answer in his ear. He got aroused again, her words painting a hot picture in his imagination, and did not stop her leaving. Her views on the matter were quite valid.
Note:
Watching "First Born" again, I noticed Crowley saying he searched for the First Blade for decades. To make this fit into my story (I don't want to step on cannon if I don't have to), I'll say that he chased the First Blade because he knew it to be a powerful weapon, not because he knew he one day might need it to kill a Knight of Hell (as far as he knew, all the Knights were dead). So, Naomi gave him a lead, that the First Blade could kill Abaddon. It's important to think so because I believe that Crowley never outright lied to Dean (as he actually states emphatically in the last episode of Season 9).