Business Lunch
When you walk down a city street just after noon in what are clearly last night's clothes, you draw certain types of looks. Some of are of deep disapproval, especially when the looker realizes you're not big on the shame part of the phrase walk of shame. And others are of approval, with grins and winks and catcalls.
The businessman on the corner looks up from his texting with one of the latter. It's a leer when he starts and it's bordering on an ogle when he finishes, and asks, "Good night, was it?"
"Darling," she says, "you have no idea."
The hotel bar is all but deserted, when she steps into it. Not that she'd have trouble spotting him, even if the place were packed.
She takes the bar stool next to the only other patron's.
"Hello, Verity," he says. "How is my favorite shop girl?"
"Crowley," she says. "I like the new look."
"I wish you'd do something different with your hair." Crowley summons the bored-looking bartender with a short gesture. "She'll have what I'm having. And I'll have a refill."
"Anything else for you, sir?" he asks, when their glasses are full and in front of them. His eyes take in Verity's incredibly short skirt and nearly obscene neckline. "Or for the 'lady'?"
Crowley puts his hand on the bare skin of Verity's thigh, thumb just edging under the hem, and then turns back to the bartender. "Just some privacy," Crowley says and, with another gesture, snaps the other man's neck.
"Cheers." Verity picks up the single malt and sips it. "Oh, very nice. Eighteen years old?"
"Twenty-two," he says. "You're losing your touch. It's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."
Almost any other demon, and Verity would have made it clear just how not lost her touch was. With Crowley, however, she just raises an eyebrow and waits for him to continue. "Oh?"
"I heard you had a meeting with Abby Fischer recently. Or whatever it is she's calling herself these days."
"Bela Talbot."
"Right. And I thought to myself . . . now, that's odd. What would my Employee of the Year be doing, wasting everyone's time, by making deals with a woman we already own?"
"No deals. Just an agreement. And really more of an audition to consider an agreement."
"What kind of an agreement?"
"I told her to find the stone tablet," she says.
"The one John Winchester locked up?"
Verity nods. "I might have left that part out. I said we lost track of it in Dresden. I never said we didn't find it again."
"Why?"
"Because she'd be suspicious if it were too easy."
"No, I mean, why do it at all?"
"Because she's a good distraction for the Winchester boys. She'll divide their attention. Keep them off kilter."
Eat up time they could be doing other things.
Maybe make certain alternatives look more attractive.
After all, when you run out of options, sometimes you take whatever's left.
Even Ruby.
Not that Verity can tell Crowley about that part. It's strictly need to know.
And she hasn't been told that he needs to know.
"She's pleased with the idea," Verity adds. She doesn't specify who she is. She doesn't need to.
"Ah, yes," Crowley says. "I heard you had already told her about it."
Verity shrugs. "It was inspiration in the moment. There wasn't time to run it by you first. Besides, I haven't promised Abby anything yet. Except that if she got it, I would discuss things with my colleagues."
Crowley studies her for a long time, like he's looking for the information she's leaving out. Verity keeps her expression bland, sips her drink, and waits.
"You're up to something, Verity."
She smiles. "I'm a crossroads demon, darling. I'm always up to something. It's my job."
"And you're almost too good at it. Sometimes, I think you're after my job."
"Would I do that to you, Crowley?" she asks, all false innocence.
"In a heartbeat. If you could. Which you can't."
"Then what could you possibly have to worry about?" she asks.
"If I figure that out, you will be the first to know."
The businessman on the corner looks up from his texting with one of the latter. It's a leer when he starts and it's bordering on an ogle when he finishes, and asks, "Good night, was it?"
"Darling," she says, "you have no idea."
The hotel bar is all but deserted, when she steps into it. Not that she'd have trouble spotting him, even if the place were packed.
She takes the bar stool next to the only other patron's.
"Hello, Verity," he says. "How is my favorite shop girl?"
"Crowley," she says. "I like the new look."
"I wish you'd do something different with your hair." Crowley summons the bored-looking bartender with a short gesture. "She'll have what I'm having. And I'll have a refill."
"Anything else for you, sir?" he asks, when their glasses are full and in front of them. His eyes take in Verity's incredibly short skirt and nearly obscene neckline. "Or for the 'lady'?"
Crowley puts his hand on the bare skin of Verity's thigh, thumb just edging under the hem, and then turns back to the bartender. "Just some privacy," Crowley says and, with another gesture, snaps the other man's neck.
"Cheers." Verity picks up the single malt and sips it. "Oh, very nice. Eighteen years old?"
"Twenty-two," he says. "You're losing your touch. It's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."
Almost any other demon, and Verity would have made it clear just how not lost her touch was. With Crowley, however, she just raises an eyebrow and waits for him to continue. "Oh?"
"I heard you had a meeting with Abby Fischer recently. Or whatever it is she's calling herself these days."
"Bela Talbot."
"Right. And I thought to myself . . . now, that's odd. What would my Employee of the Year be doing, wasting everyone's time, by making deals with a woman we already own?"
"No deals. Just an agreement. And really more of an audition to consider an agreement."
"What kind of an agreement?"
"I told her to find the stone tablet," she says.
"The one John Winchester locked up?"
Verity nods. "I might have left that part out. I said we lost track of it in Dresden. I never said we didn't find it again."
"Why?"
"Because she'd be suspicious if it were too easy."
"No, I mean, why do it at all?"
"Because she's a good distraction for the Winchester boys. She'll divide their attention. Keep them off kilter."
Eat up time they could be doing other things.
Maybe make certain alternatives look more attractive.
After all, when you run out of options, sometimes you take whatever's left.
Even Ruby.
Not that Verity can tell Crowley about that part. It's strictly need to know.
And she hasn't been told that he needs to know.
"She's pleased with the idea," Verity adds. She doesn't specify who she is. She doesn't need to.
"Ah, yes," Crowley says. "I heard you had already told her about it."
Verity shrugs. "It was inspiration in the moment. There wasn't time to run it by you first. Besides, I haven't promised Abby anything yet. Except that if she got it, I would discuss things with my colleagues."
Crowley studies her for a long time, like he's looking for the information she's leaving out. Verity keeps her expression bland, sips her drink, and waits.
"You're up to something, Verity."
She smiles. "I'm a crossroads demon, darling. I'm always up to something. It's my job."
"And you're almost too good at it. Sometimes, I think you're after my job."
"Would I do that to you, Crowley?" she asks, all false innocence.
"In a heartbeat. If you could. Which you can't."
"Then what could you possibly have to worry about?" she asks.
"If I figure that out, you will be the first to know."