God's away on business - A Dean Winchester/ Crowley slash fic AU - Chapter 1/?
AN - So it has been a VERY long time since I posted any fiction here, and I have no idea if anyone still comes around. If you do or are new and just stumbled upon this story! Welcome. And thank you for Reading.
This is going to be a Dean/Crowley Slash fic, with Sam/Castiel on the side. It is completely AU, Dean is a mechanic and Crowley is a defense attorney. It is loosely based of Pride and the Prejudice, and I mean very loosely! It is being written by me and doubledgedsword And will be updated regularly as we finish chapters!
I know these pairings aren't for everyone, but if you give the Dean/Crowley a shot, you might be pleasantly surprised, we know we were, we are hardcore Dean/Cas girls and still love them completely. But we were blown away by just how well Dean and Crowley can work together! So join us and give it a shot on this epic adventure.
Rating: This Chapter PG, NC17 in later chapters!
~:~
Okay, so it may or may not have been his fault.
Normally, he wouldn't bother leaving work during lunch, but today he promised Bobby and the boys he'd pick them up some drive-thru deliciousness. It was probably a bad plan to listen to Deep Purple when he was driving, especially that most epic of songs, "Highway Star". Not that it wasn't awesome music to listen to, but Dean could never quite manage to maintain a steady, reasonable speed whenever he listened to Deep Purple.
So, technically speaking, he could blame it on the boogie.
Even for Dean Winchester, that was a terrible joke.
He got out of his '67 Chevy Impala, wincing when he realised he hadn't just rear ended any regular car - he had managed to rear end a brand new Lexus.
He approached the driver of the slick car (glossy black, with matte black rims - very fucking cool) as he stepped out.
"Hey, sorry about that, buddy!" Dean said, plastering his most charming grin in place.
He was expecting the driver to be some uptight white guy in a suit.
He wasn't disappointed.
Dean suddenly felt very under-dressed. His grease speckled flannel shirt covered a well loved black Metallica tee (that had more than a few holes worn in the fabric), and blue jeans over his work boots. The driver of the other car was in an immaculate suit, his button down shirt as black as the suit, and a silk tie that provided the only other splash of colour - grey.
Dean moistened his lips and said cheerfully, "Let's have a look at the damage and swap insurance info, yeah?"
~:~
"Well this was just bloody brilliant." Crowley thought to himself as he rubbed the pain that shot through his neck, groaning as he looked into his review mirror and his brow knotted in deep, frustrated frown. He was already running late, and now he had to deal with some hill billy son of a bitch who had rear ended his bloody car!
Moving slowly, he pushed open the door to his car and climbed out, smoothing his suit and glaring at the man who was approaching him, and it only worsened his mood when he noticed the man was smiling!? Why in the name of all that was unholy was this idiot smiling?
"I'm sorry? Something amusing here you bloody great twat!" He snapped at the taller man, eyes flicking over the undeniably attractive man, younger than he was by at least ten years. Right now however, he was more concerned with his car, and the damage this idiot had done with his bloody tank of a Chevy.
Crowley pushes past the man, ignoring him and rounding the end of his car, throwing his hands up when he sees the extent of the damage, the back bumper was on the ground on one side, the exhaust had come loose and the boot had popped open and was bent at the wrong angle.
"Fuck me, how fast were you going?" He hissed, looking up at the man with stormy eyes. "You want to explain me what happened here? Because I know I sure as shit wasn't doing anything wrong. Minding my own damn business..."
"Well?" Demanded as he moved back toward the man, rolling his neck again, the pain still sharp as it shot down his spine and arms, he was fairly certain he had whiplash. Which was fan fucking tastic.
~:~
Dean couldn't help it. When he got nervous, he ended up smiling and getting cheeky to cover it up. For now, he managed to bite his tongue and not come out with a snarky response. He shrugged his shoulders and let suit guy push past him.
Going by his reaction, the damage was pretty bad.
Dean decided he should have a look himself, and he winced. Just his luck! He had managed to cause a couple grand worth of damage, but a part of him lit up at the thought of fixing up a Lexus. The parts would be expensive, sure, but if he could make it look as good as new, it'd almost be worth damaging it in the first place.
Dean gave him his most charming smile and said, "Okay, I'll admit it - my bad. But I'm a mechanic, I can fix this up for you, yeah?"
His smile faded when he realised the man was wincing in pain. It was one thing to hurt a car, but hurting another person (even a suit wearing dickhole like this guy) rubbed him the wrong way.
"Buddy, maybe you should sit down. Do you need me to call an ambulance?" he asked, pulling out a cell phone that would have been considered out of date in 2005.
~:~
"I'm fine." He snapped, as he waved the man's phone away. "I don't need a damn ambulance, I need my fucking car to work." He growled at the man, frowning when he said he could fix the damage.
"You're offering to fix it?" Asked, his tone one of mistrust and suspicion, he had not gotten to where he had in life, trusting random strangers on the street. "Why? Why not just let the insurance do it?"
He studied the man carefully for a moment and then smirked, the corner of his mouth turning up maliciously and he snorted. "You don't want the police involved is that it?" He asked arrogantly, clearly looking down his nose at this guy.
"Why would I let you touch my car after what you've just done to it?" Demands as he looked at the man with an ugly sneer.
He waved a hand, moving to his door again and leaning against his vehicle as he pulled out his cell, the latest model of course, and started dialing nine one one.
~:~
"You ain't fine," Dean protested, frowning deeply. He assumed the guy had been injured during the fender bender, possibly whiplash - and Dean knew that by the looks of this guy, he probably had a lot of money behind him. He could sue Dean for the shirt off his back, and he could probably afford the lawyers to make it happen.
Dean, on the other hand, was barely scraping by. He couldn't afford this to go official.
"I'm a mechanic," he said by way of explanation. "I never get to work on cars this pretty, and I specialise in making beat up junkers look brand new. How d'you think I got an Impala looking this good?" He gestured to his baby proudly, and sighed when he realised he had busted his headlights and the bumper. She was going to need almost as much work to repair as this guy's car.
"No, no, please don't call the cops," Dean pleaded. "Look, I've already got a DUI; if I get in trouble with the cops again, they'll take away my license. I need to stay on the road, dude."
It wasn't this stranger's fault that Dean would end up fucked over if the cops got involved. His mom lived two towns over, and if he didn't have his car, he couldn't take her to the grocery store every week - and he sure as hell couldn't ferry his kid brother to all his damn SAT prep classes without his car.
"I'll do anything, dude, just please ..."
~:~
Crowley didn't have time to listen to this man's sob story, but something in the way he said 'anything' had Crowley interested. Never say he wasn't interested in making a good deal.
"You'll do anything?" He questioned, one expertly groomed brow moving toward his hair line.
"An interesting proposition." Added Crowley, giving the man a once over and putting his cell back in his coat pocket for now. "Alright pretty boy, I'm listening, what can you possibly offer me that would make me not making this official, worth my while." The look he gave the man was predatory and dangerous and if the man had any sense, he'd exchange info, wait for the cops to arrive and never look back at Crowley again. Crowley however, was hoping the man was not sensible, because now the game was a foot, he was more than a little intrigued. After all, he did enjoy stepping on the little man.
~:~
Dean anxiously watched the man's thumb as it hovered over the call button on his cell phone, knowing his fate now depended on this guy deciding whether or not to throw him a bone.
"Anything!" Dean repeated, not caring how desperate he sounded. And screw it, he was desperate! His family depended on him having a car, and he sure as hell couldn't depend on his dad to help Sammy or Mom out - not now he had his new wife and son to think about.
His face flushed when Crowley called him "pretty boy", not sure he liked the direction this seemed to be taking.
"Look, I'll fix up your car - free of charge. I'll even pay for all the parts myself, okay?" he suggested, but something in the way suit guy looked at him told Dean that he wouldn't be content with such a practical offer. "Hell, if you want me to dress in drag while I fix it up, that's what I'll do!" he added, not sure what this guy wanted from him.
~:~
Crowley's smirk grew wider as the man begged for his life, or at least that's what it felt like he was doing, who knows, maybe that's what the man thought was at stake here. And it gave the man a sense of power that he was rather fond of. The only question now, was how to use it to his advantage, but the sounds of it, he could tell the man to get on his knees and suck him off right here in the street and he'd probably do it. That however was slightly more crude than Crowley was into, he had more refined tastes, and wasn't, surprisingly, being known for being a completely arsehole among those who knew him, into forcing men to have sex with him. He could get sex without having it be taken unwillingly from someone.
So this left him with the question, what did he want from this man.
"Fine, you fix it, and fix it fast, and I won't call the cops, but just know, you owe me now." He decided that there was no need to decide right then and there, but he would be thinking about it, and soon enough he'd work out just what he could take that made his life a little richer, after all, he was all about being rich.
"You do have a tow truck yes?" He gave the man a scathing look as he asked, and then added because, he was never one to let an opportunity to get away. "As pretty as you might be in drag love, I don't swing that way."
"Now, how do you plan to fix my car, and when can I expect it done?"
~:~
Dean visibly sagged with relief, clutching at his chest. "Oh, holy shit, you are a life saver!" he exclaimed, looking at the shorter man like he couldn't believe his luck.
He pulled out his phone and texted his boss, Bobby, asking him to send one of the guys out with the tow truck, apologising for being late with their lunch. He expected Bobby would be cranky - mostly because Bobby was a grumpy guy at the best of times, but he tended to be grouchier when he was hungry - but he could rely on him for just about anything.
"Yeah, I owe you big time, buddy!" Dean said, hitting send on his ancient brick of a phone. He'd managed to make this phone last him almost five years, which was something of a miracle, considering how modern cell phones had the average lifespan of a possum on a highway.
He looked up at suit guy, grinning with relief. "I've got somebody on the way with the tow truck, don't worry."
He surveyed the damage to suit guy's car, rubbing his chin thoughtfully while his mind worked through what could be repaired, and what would have to be replaced. "I can get her fixed in a week, tops, maybe three days if I pull some strings. We don't tend to keep Lexus parts in stock at the garage. Too expensive to replace if we get broken into. But I know a guy who can overnight me the parts."
He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward now the sense of relief was wearing off. "I uh ... should probably get your name and number so I can call you when she's done."
~:~
~:~
He raised an unimpressed brow, wondering how this man got through each day if he got that happy over not having the cops called, it was clearly not a far fall to the gutter for this one. He sniffed, looking at him like he was a bug on his windshield and then nodded reluctantly.
"I'm going to need your information, including a copy of your identification and home address. I will not be screwed out of my car by some little punk. If you're on the up and up, you've got nothing to worry about. If you steal from me..." he gave him a dangerous look, one that made better men than this kid shrink in fear, "Don't steal from me. There's a pet." He finished with a cold wink.
He took the time now to look around him and sighed a little, pulling out his cell and handing it to the man, "Information, now." He ordered as he put a plan of action together in his head, he had to get to work, he had meetings, he decided he would call his driver and have him pick him up. Just as soon as this idiot had put his personal information into his phone. "And careful with that, I don't need you wrecking anything else of mine." He sneered meanly.
~:~
Dean was used to people looking down on him. He hadn't been a mechanic this long without having uppity types acting like special snowflakes and treating him like dirt. He just shrugged it off, and got on with it. He had more important things to worry about, and if any of them ever got under his skin, he'd bitch about them to his coworkers while he worked on their cars, but he took too much pride in his work to ever take it out on the vehicle.
This guy, however, was really starting to ruffle his feathers.
"What, you think I can just pull a Xerox out of my ass?" Dean scoffed. He pulled open the driver side door and bent over, rummaging in the glove box for his driver's license. Once he had retrieved it, he held it out to suit guy, his cheerful smile now forgotten. "Take a picture of it with your fancy cell phone, because you ain't keeping that."
The look suit guy gave him would have cowed him, but Dean had been on the receiving end of far scarier looks from his dad during one of his alcohol binges, and one thing that had taught him was to never back down from a bully. He jutted out his chin obstinately, matching suit guy's glare with one of his own.
He took the man's cell phone, looking at it in bewilderment. This thing was more slick and high-tech than anything he'd ever seen in Star Trek, and his own cell still had those charmingly old fashioned things called buttons. He shook his head, and managed to open the dialler, tapping his number into it and saving it as "Dean punk-who-has-your-car Winchester".
He offered it to Crowley once he was done, rolling his eyes. "You got a name to go with that attitude, buddy?" he asked.
~:~
He took a moment to study the man, impressed that he'd not shown the fear most people do toward him. It showed a back bone he'd not been expecting, considering how much the man had begged not to have the cops called. He smirked at him and shrugged a shoulder briefly. "You answered your own question there pet. Camera phones, wonderful things aren't they." He commented while he took a photo of the man's license and handed it back, noting his name, age and address. Only twenty two, and already an attitude that told the defense attorney that his life hadn't been kind. Still, it was hardly his problem, as long as his car was fixed in a timely manner.
"Yes, I do have a name." He answered as he took his phone back, checked the number the man had entered, snorting at the name he'd put it under and hit dial to make sure it was actually his number. Once the man's phone started ringing, he was satisfied and hung up the call.
"I expect to hear from you. Where will you be taking it, I want an address." He asked as he reached into his car and pulled out his brief case and over coat from the back seat. Slipping the coat onto his shoulders before he picked up the brief case again that he'd set on the ground while he handled his coat.
He hit dial on his drivers number and barked a few words into the phone, clearly not in the mood to be friendly, telling him where he was and that he was to be picked up immediately.
Only then did he turn his attention back to the mechanic.
~:~
Dean frowned, disliking the man's choice of nickname for him. "I ain't your pet, buddy," he snapped, taking back his license and stuffing it in the back pocket of his jeans. "And I wouldn't know. My cell doesn't even have a camera on it."
He widened his green eyes, looking at the guy and thinking he might just be the most arrogant son of a bitch he's ever had the misfortune to (literally) run into. "And do I get the honour of knowing your name, or do I need to earn above a certain income level to learn that?" Dean sneered.
He'd be more pissed off about suit guy's paranoia if it wasn't a Lexus that was at stake here. He dropped his phone in the same pocket as his licence, and scowled.
"Singer's repairs," Dean said, pulling a cheap business card from his wallet and holding it out to the man. Bobby hadn't gone in for anything fancy with his business cards. Truth be told, Sam had designed the cards, and Bobby had them printed up by a friend who owed him a favour. Dean half expected suit guy to turn his nose up at the mere sight of it. "Address and phone number's on the card. If you call, just ask for me."
~:~
Crowley gave the man a smirk that would have made a whore blush and winked at him. "A few minutes ago you would have been my anything I wanted you to be. Be grateful I'm not into public fellatio and hush about up about what I call you." He taunted, proving yet again that he was the one with the power in this situation.
"You'll be hearing from me Dean Winchester." He replied as his driver pulled up and he headed toward the sleek black down car. He turned and smirked at the man. "Crowley, the name's Crowley." And with that he climbed into the back seat of the town car and told the driver to get him to the office as fast as possible, flipping over the business card he'd taken from Dean between his thumb and forefinger. Wondering to himself just what he'd gotten himself into with this one.
~:~
Dean couldn't help but blush. The smirk Crowley gave him was so loaded with intent that it bordered on obscene, and for all his womanising ways, the young mechanic couldn't handle having a guy flirt with him. Then again, flirting was too nice a description for that smile, or for what he had just said.
He ducked his head, and muttered something about suit guy being a complete jerk, but otherwise kept his mouth shut. He took the offered car keys, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground.
Just as Crowley's town car pulled up, Dean spotted the tow truck trundling into view in the opposite direction. Relieved that his interactions with Crowley were at an end, at least for now, he watched the guy leave, worrying that he might have just got himself into worse trouble than if he had just let the police get involved.
((Chapter Two))
This is going to be a Dean/Crowley Slash fic, with Sam/Castiel on the side. It is completely AU, Dean is a mechanic and Crowley is a defense attorney. It is loosely based of Pride and the Prejudice, and I mean very loosely! It is being written by me and doubledgedsword And will be updated regularly as we finish chapters!
I know these pairings aren't for everyone, but if you give the Dean/Crowley a shot, you might be pleasantly surprised, we know we were, we are hardcore Dean/Cas girls and still love them completely. But we were blown away by just how well Dean and Crowley can work together! So join us and give it a shot on this epic adventure.
Rating: This Chapter PG, NC17 in later chapters!
~:~
Okay, so it may or may not have been his fault.
Normally, he wouldn't bother leaving work during lunch, but today he promised Bobby and the boys he'd pick them up some drive-thru deliciousness. It was probably a bad plan to listen to Deep Purple when he was driving, especially that most epic of songs, "Highway Star". Not that it wasn't awesome music to listen to, but Dean could never quite manage to maintain a steady, reasonable speed whenever he listened to Deep Purple.
So, technically speaking, he could blame it on the boogie.
Even for Dean Winchester, that was a terrible joke.
He got out of his '67 Chevy Impala, wincing when he realised he hadn't just rear ended any regular car - he had managed to rear end a brand new Lexus.
He approached the driver of the slick car (glossy black, with matte black rims - very fucking cool) as he stepped out.
"Hey, sorry about that, buddy!" Dean said, plastering his most charming grin in place.
He was expecting the driver to be some uptight white guy in a suit.
He wasn't disappointed.
Dean suddenly felt very under-dressed. His grease speckled flannel shirt covered a well loved black Metallica tee (that had more than a few holes worn in the fabric), and blue jeans over his work boots. The driver of the other car was in an immaculate suit, his button down shirt as black as the suit, and a silk tie that provided the only other splash of colour - grey.
Dean moistened his lips and said cheerfully, "Let's have a look at the damage and swap insurance info, yeah?"
~:~
"Well this was just bloody brilliant." Crowley thought to himself as he rubbed the pain that shot through his neck, groaning as he looked into his review mirror and his brow knotted in deep, frustrated frown. He was already running late, and now he had to deal with some hill billy son of a bitch who had rear ended his bloody car!
Moving slowly, he pushed open the door to his car and climbed out, smoothing his suit and glaring at the man who was approaching him, and it only worsened his mood when he noticed the man was smiling!? Why in the name of all that was unholy was this idiot smiling?
"I'm sorry? Something amusing here you bloody great twat!" He snapped at the taller man, eyes flicking over the undeniably attractive man, younger than he was by at least ten years. Right now however, he was more concerned with his car, and the damage this idiot had done with his bloody tank of a Chevy.
Crowley pushes past the man, ignoring him and rounding the end of his car, throwing his hands up when he sees the extent of the damage, the back bumper was on the ground on one side, the exhaust had come loose and the boot had popped open and was bent at the wrong angle.
"Fuck me, how fast were you going?" He hissed, looking up at the man with stormy eyes. "You want to explain me what happened here? Because I know I sure as shit wasn't doing anything wrong. Minding my own damn business..."
"Well?" Demanded as he moved back toward the man, rolling his neck again, the pain still sharp as it shot down his spine and arms, he was fairly certain he had whiplash. Which was fan fucking tastic.
~:~
Dean couldn't help it. When he got nervous, he ended up smiling and getting cheeky to cover it up. For now, he managed to bite his tongue and not come out with a snarky response. He shrugged his shoulders and let suit guy push past him.
Going by his reaction, the damage was pretty bad.
Dean decided he should have a look himself, and he winced. Just his luck! He had managed to cause a couple grand worth of damage, but a part of him lit up at the thought of fixing up a Lexus. The parts would be expensive, sure, but if he could make it look as good as new, it'd almost be worth damaging it in the first place.
Dean gave him his most charming smile and said, "Okay, I'll admit it - my bad. But I'm a mechanic, I can fix this up for you, yeah?"
His smile faded when he realised the man was wincing in pain. It was one thing to hurt a car, but hurting another person (even a suit wearing dickhole like this guy) rubbed him the wrong way.
"Buddy, maybe you should sit down. Do you need me to call an ambulance?" he asked, pulling out a cell phone that would have been considered out of date in 2005.
~:~
"I'm fine." He snapped, as he waved the man's phone away. "I don't need a damn ambulance, I need my fucking car to work." He growled at the man, frowning when he said he could fix the damage.
"You're offering to fix it?" Asked, his tone one of mistrust and suspicion, he had not gotten to where he had in life, trusting random strangers on the street. "Why? Why not just let the insurance do it?"
He studied the man carefully for a moment and then smirked, the corner of his mouth turning up maliciously and he snorted. "You don't want the police involved is that it?" He asked arrogantly, clearly looking down his nose at this guy.
"Why would I let you touch my car after what you've just done to it?" Demands as he looked at the man with an ugly sneer.
He waved a hand, moving to his door again and leaning against his vehicle as he pulled out his cell, the latest model of course, and started dialing nine one one.
~:~
"You ain't fine," Dean protested, frowning deeply. He assumed the guy had been injured during the fender bender, possibly whiplash - and Dean knew that by the looks of this guy, he probably had a lot of money behind him. He could sue Dean for the shirt off his back, and he could probably afford the lawyers to make it happen.
Dean, on the other hand, was barely scraping by. He couldn't afford this to go official.
"I'm a mechanic," he said by way of explanation. "I never get to work on cars this pretty, and I specialise in making beat up junkers look brand new. How d'you think I got an Impala looking this good?" He gestured to his baby proudly, and sighed when he realised he had busted his headlights and the bumper. She was going to need almost as much work to repair as this guy's car.
"No, no, please don't call the cops," Dean pleaded. "Look, I've already got a DUI; if I get in trouble with the cops again, they'll take away my license. I need to stay on the road, dude."
It wasn't this stranger's fault that Dean would end up fucked over if the cops got involved. His mom lived two towns over, and if he didn't have his car, he couldn't take her to the grocery store every week - and he sure as hell couldn't ferry his kid brother to all his damn SAT prep classes without his car.
"I'll do anything, dude, just please ..."
~:~
Crowley didn't have time to listen to this man's sob story, but something in the way he said 'anything' had Crowley interested. Never say he wasn't interested in making a good deal.
"You'll do anything?" He questioned, one expertly groomed brow moving toward his hair line.
"An interesting proposition." Added Crowley, giving the man a once over and putting his cell back in his coat pocket for now. "Alright pretty boy, I'm listening, what can you possibly offer me that would make me not making this official, worth my while." The look he gave the man was predatory and dangerous and if the man had any sense, he'd exchange info, wait for the cops to arrive and never look back at Crowley again. Crowley however, was hoping the man was not sensible, because now the game was a foot, he was more than a little intrigued. After all, he did enjoy stepping on the little man.
~:~
Dean anxiously watched the man's thumb as it hovered over the call button on his cell phone, knowing his fate now depended on this guy deciding whether or not to throw him a bone.
"Anything!" Dean repeated, not caring how desperate he sounded. And screw it, he was desperate! His family depended on him having a car, and he sure as hell couldn't depend on his dad to help Sammy or Mom out - not now he had his new wife and son to think about.
His face flushed when Crowley called him "pretty boy", not sure he liked the direction this seemed to be taking.
"Look, I'll fix up your car - free of charge. I'll even pay for all the parts myself, okay?" he suggested, but something in the way suit guy looked at him told Dean that he wouldn't be content with such a practical offer. "Hell, if you want me to dress in drag while I fix it up, that's what I'll do!" he added, not sure what this guy wanted from him.
~:~
Crowley's smirk grew wider as the man begged for his life, or at least that's what it felt like he was doing, who knows, maybe that's what the man thought was at stake here. And it gave the man a sense of power that he was rather fond of. The only question now, was how to use it to his advantage, but the sounds of it, he could tell the man to get on his knees and suck him off right here in the street and he'd probably do it. That however was slightly more crude than Crowley was into, he had more refined tastes, and wasn't, surprisingly, being known for being a completely arsehole among those who knew him, into forcing men to have sex with him. He could get sex without having it be taken unwillingly from someone.
So this left him with the question, what did he want from this man.
"Fine, you fix it, and fix it fast, and I won't call the cops, but just know, you owe me now." He decided that there was no need to decide right then and there, but he would be thinking about it, and soon enough he'd work out just what he could take that made his life a little richer, after all, he was all about being rich.
"You do have a tow truck yes?" He gave the man a scathing look as he asked, and then added because, he was never one to let an opportunity to get away. "As pretty as you might be in drag love, I don't swing that way."
"Now, how do you plan to fix my car, and when can I expect it done?"
~:~
Dean visibly sagged with relief, clutching at his chest. "Oh, holy shit, you are a life saver!" he exclaimed, looking at the shorter man like he couldn't believe his luck.
He pulled out his phone and texted his boss, Bobby, asking him to send one of the guys out with the tow truck, apologising for being late with their lunch. He expected Bobby would be cranky - mostly because Bobby was a grumpy guy at the best of times, but he tended to be grouchier when he was hungry - but he could rely on him for just about anything.
"Yeah, I owe you big time, buddy!" Dean said, hitting send on his ancient brick of a phone. He'd managed to make this phone last him almost five years, which was something of a miracle, considering how modern cell phones had the average lifespan of a possum on a highway.
He looked up at suit guy, grinning with relief. "I've got somebody on the way with the tow truck, don't worry."
He surveyed the damage to suit guy's car, rubbing his chin thoughtfully while his mind worked through what could be repaired, and what would have to be replaced. "I can get her fixed in a week, tops, maybe three days if I pull some strings. We don't tend to keep Lexus parts in stock at the garage. Too expensive to replace if we get broken into. But I know a guy who can overnight me the parts."
He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward now the sense of relief was wearing off. "I uh ... should probably get your name and number so I can call you when she's done."
~:~
~:~
He raised an unimpressed brow, wondering how this man got through each day if he got that happy over not having the cops called, it was clearly not a far fall to the gutter for this one. He sniffed, looking at him like he was a bug on his windshield and then nodded reluctantly.
"I'm going to need your information, including a copy of your identification and home address. I will not be screwed out of my car by some little punk. If you're on the up and up, you've got nothing to worry about. If you steal from me..." he gave him a dangerous look, one that made better men than this kid shrink in fear, "Don't steal from me. There's a pet." He finished with a cold wink.
He took the time now to look around him and sighed a little, pulling out his cell and handing it to the man, "Information, now." He ordered as he put a plan of action together in his head, he had to get to work, he had meetings, he decided he would call his driver and have him pick him up. Just as soon as this idiot had put his personal information into his phone. "And careful with that, I don't need you wrecking anything else of mine." He sneered meanly.
~:~
Dean was used to people looking down on him. He hadn't been a mechanic this long without having uppity types acting like special snowflakes and treating him like dirt. He just shrugged it off, and got on with it. He had more important things to worry about, and if any of them ever got under his skin, he'd bitch about them to his coworkers while he worked on their cars, but he took too much pride in his work to ever take it out on the vehicle.
This guy, however, was really starting to ruffle his feathers.
"What, you think I can just pull a Xerox out of my ass?" Dean scoffed. He pulled open the driver side door and bent over, rummaging in the glove box for his driver's license. Once he had retrieved it, he held it out to suit guy, his cheerful smile now forgotten. "Take a picture of it with your fancy cell phone, because you ain't keeping that."
The look suit guy gave him would have cowed him, but Dean had been on the receiving end of far scarier looks from his dad during one of his alcohol binges, and one thing that had taught him was to never back down from a bully. He jutted out his chin obstinately, matching suit guy's glare with one of his own.
He took the man's cell phone, looking at it in bewilderment. This thing was more slick and high-tech than anything he'd ever seen in Star Trek, and his own cell still had those charmingly old fashioned things called buttons. He shook his head, and managed to open the dialler, tapping his number into it and saving it as "Dean punk-who-has-your-car Winchester".
He offered it to Crowley once he was done, rolling his eyes. "You got a name to go with that attitude, buddy?" he asked.
~:~
He took a moment to study the man, impressed that he'd not shown the fear most people do toward him. It showed a back bone he'd not been expecting, considering how much the man had begged not to have the cops called. He smirked at him and shrugged a shoulder briefly. "You answered your own question there pet. Camera phones, wonderful things aren't they." He commented while he took a photo of the man's license and handed it back, noting his name, age and address. Only twenty two, and already an attitude that told the defense attorney that his life hadn't been kind. Still, it was hardly his problem, as long as his car was fixed in a timely manner.
"Yes, I do have a name." He answered as he took his phone back, checked the number the man had entered, snorting at the name he'd put it under and hit dial to make sure it was actually his number. Once the man's phone started ringing, he was satisfied and hung up the call.
"I expect to hear from you. Where will you be taking it, I want an address." He asked as he reached into his car and pulled out his brief case and over coat from the back seat. Slipping the coat onto his shoulders before he picked up the brief case again that he'd set on the ground while he handled his coat.
He hit dial on his drivers number and barked a few words into the phone, clearly not in the mood to be friendly, telling him where he was and that he was to be picked up immediately.
Only then did he turn his attention back to the mechanic.
~:~
Dean frowned, disliking the man's choice of nickname for him. "I ain't your pet, buddy," he snapped, taking back his license and stuffing it in the back pocket of his jeans. "And I wouldn't know. My cell doesn't even have a camera on it."
He widened his green eyes, looking at the guy and thinking he might just be the most arrogant son of a bitch he's ever had the misfortune to (literally) run into. "And do I get the honour of knowing your name, or do I need to earn above a certain income level to learn that?" Dean sneered.
He'd be more pissed off about suit guy's paranoia if it wasn't a Lexus that was at stake here. He dropped his phone in the same pocket as his licence, and scowled.
"Singer's repairs," Dean said, pulling a cheap business card from his wallet and holding it out to the man. Bobby hadn't gone in for anything fancy with his business cards. Truth be told, Sam had designed the cards, and Bobby had them printed up by a friend who owed him a favour. Dean half expected suit guy to turn his nose up at the mere sight of it. "Address and phone number's on the card. If you call, just ask for me."
~:~
Crowley gave the man a smirk that would have made a whore blush and winked at him. "A few minutes ago you would have been my anything I wanted you to be. Be grateful I'm not into public fellatio and hush about up about what I call you." He taunted, proving yet again that he was the one with the power in this situation.
"You'll be hearing from me Dean Winchester." He replied as his driver pulled up and he headed toward the sleek black down car. He turned and smirked at the man. "Crowley, the name's Crowley." And with that he climbed into the back seat of the town car and told the driver to get him to the office as fast as possible, flipping over the business card he'd taken from Dean between his thumb and forefinger. Wondering to himself just what he'd gotten himself into with this one.
~:~
Dean couldn't help but blush. The smirk Crowley gave him was so loaded with intent that it bordered on obscene, and for all his womanising ways, the young mechanic couldn't handle having a guy flirt with him. Then again, flirting was too nice a description for that smile, or for what he had just said.
He ducked his head, and muttered something about suit guy being a complete jerk, but otherwise kept his mouth shut. He took the offered car keys, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground.
Just as Crowley's town car pulled up, Dean spotted the tow truck trundling into view in the opposite direction. Relieved that his interactions with Crowley were at an end, at least for now, he watched the guy leave, worrying that he might have just got himself into worse trouble than if he had just let the police get involved.
((Chapter Two))