Date: March 27, 2001 Status: Private - Gabriel and Crowley (Complete) Setting: Belial's room, elsewhere in the manor Summary: Belial's escape does not go without repercussions...
"...I'd struggle with my duties in such an unpopulated place. I only meant to help you when you've such an individualized task, but I suppose we'll have to make it up as we go along."
Crowley only half heard the words. Something was happening. Something he needed to know. Somewhere... If only...
"I guess so," he said, standing. "But then again, we always have."
There was a pause as he tried to identify what he was feeling, and, giving up, added, "I'll see you around, Aziraphale."He needed to concentrate. Something was going on that was different than this awkward something with the angel. And as dangerous and unfortunate as a distraction currently was, he needed to leave. The demon almost bolted to the solitary peace of his bedroom
( ... )
His senses already sharpened by thoughts of Hell's agent, Gabriel noted Crowley's aura drawing closer. Good. Crowley must have noticed the disturbance, if only because he was likely the one being paying nearly as much attention to signs of the Crown as Gabriel.
He waited a moment, attending to any use of power on the demon's part. When in the silence he sensed nothing, he rubbed at his forehead, formulating his next step. No use of his powers meant there had been no communication with Hell on Crowley's part, and Gabriel could assume he was still working under the same orders: Find Belial and bring him back.
Well. Crowley - if he were to be believed - may not want to find Belial, but there was no reason to think he wouldn't try. And Gabriel wasn't ready to sit back and watch the effort idly. He snatched a scrap of paper from the bedside table and jotted down a quick note in his precise handwriting
( ... )
Hearing the almost inaudible snick of the door closing, Crowley slid into the hallway. If Gabriel were suddenly sneaking around, that could mean nothing good. The fool was probably going to try to find Belial despite their warnings, tantalized by the hint of his whereabouts. The demon wondered if trailing the archangel would be enough to prove to his superiors that he was trying to do his job. That might also put him on the spot to stop Gabriel from doing something stupid and giving away the Crown's location, while making it look like the Snob had been the one interfering with his mission. It could work...
Plan formed as much as it could be in a matter of seconds, Crowley followed silently, lingering in shadows.
Crowley didn't slink along the passageway. That would have looked suspicious. Instead, he walked as he always did. He'd had lots of practice being nonchalant.
Gabriel going up the stairs rather than down surprised him, but it was convenient. While he waited for the angel to move on, the demon took out his sleek black pen and a business card - Anthony Crowley, Business Consultant - and scribbled a note on the back.
Tell John to feed Chicago.
It would be enough to let both Adam and John know that he'd be gone for an unspecified amount of time, but of his own accord and with some notice. Hopefully it would keep the man from worrying
After his sense of the Snob's presence had moved on, Crowley went upstairs, casually slid the card under Adam's door, and followed the trail to the access ladder.
Shit! he thought. He's going to fly...Without feathers, the demon couldn't fly. He was hoping he could at least coast off the roof and make it to the ground unharmed. Then... the Bentley, he supposed. Making sure he remembered exactly
( ... )
It was cruel, perhaps; Gabriel was, after all, well aware that Crowley couldn't fly. But what meaning was there in the pursuit if the demon caught up to him too quickly
( ... )
If Crowley had been at all suspicious that he was being led along, the fact that Gabriel was going to make him use his wings despite their injury would have convinced him he was wrong. He just didn't think the angel could be that deliberately cruel, even to a demon. So much for that theory
( ... )
Crowley only half heard the words. Something was happening. Something he needed to know. Somewhere... If only...
"I guess so," he said, standing. "But then again, we always have."
There was a pause as he tried to identify what he was feeling, and, giving up, added, "I'll see you around, Aziraphale."He needed to concentrate. Something was going on that was different than this awkward something with the angel. And as dangerous and unfortunate as a distraction currently was, he needed to leave. The demon almost bolted to the solitary peace of his bedroom ( ... )
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He waited a moment, attending to any use of power on the demon's part. When in the silence he sensed nothing, he rubbed at his forehead, formulating his next step. No use of his powers meant there had been no communication with Hell on Crowley's part, and Gabriel could assume he was still working under the same orders: Find Belial and bring him back.
Well. Crowley - if he were to be believed - may not want to find Belial, but there was no reason to think he wouldn't try. And Gabriel wasn't ready to sit back and watch the effort idly. He snatched a scrap of paper from the bedside table and jotted down a quick note in his precise handwriting ( ... )
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Plan formed as much as it could be in a matter of seconds, Crowley followed silently, lingering in shadows.
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Gabriel going up the stairs rather than down surprised him, but it was convenient. While he waited for the angel to move on, the demon took out his sleek black pen and a business card - Anthony Crowley, Business Consultant - and scribbled a note on the back.
Tell John to feed Chicago.
It would be enough to let both Adam and John know that he'd be gone for an unspecified amount of time, but of his own accord and with some notice. Hopefully it would keep the man from worrying
After his sense of the Snob's presence had moved on, Crowley went upstairs, casually slid the card under Adam's door, and followed the trail to the access ladder.
Shit! he thought. He's going to fly...Without feathers, the demon couldn't fly. He was hoping he could at least coast off the roof and make it to the ground unharmed. Then... the Bentley, he supposed. Making sure he remembered exactly ( ... )
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