(no subject)
Date: March 27, 2001
Status: Private - Crowley and Gabriel
Setting: London
Summary: The first leg of the journey, continued from here
Following the angel to the airport was a relatively simple matter. Crowley was well aware of the difficulties inherent in flying in the city but moreso knew that there was only one possible destination no matter how his quarry traveled. Thus he didn't worry when he lost Gabriel's trace on occasion. He'd pick it up again at Heathrow. Using short cuts and certain driving techniques, the demon made it to the airport not five minutes before Gabriel's plane left.
Parking in the loading zone, confident that his car wouldn't be bothered, Crowley hurried inside. The angel's aura was stronger here and he wondered what miracle he'd needed to perform in order to make his flight. As it was strongest at the British Airlines desk, the demon followed. In moments, he'd learned that Mr. Gabriel Engel - how original - was bound for Copenhagen on a flight that had just left. With a vehement curse and a lot of yelling, the cowed lady behind the desk who could coolly deal with even the most drunken and belligerent fliers but not a angry demon, found a seat on a rival Air France flight that was due to leave in half an hour. Crowley produced his passport and strode toward the gate.
***
Over the next several hours, he trailed Gabriel through the streets of Copenhagen, then back to the airport. It had apparently been only a stop to throw off anyone who might be following him. Which wasn't a bad idea in theory, but Crowley wondered just how dumb the angel thought he was. They went next to Munich for a day, and then to Oslo, before ending in Amsterdam, where Crowley's normally thin patience wore out.
Status: Private - Crowley and Gabriel
Setting: London
Summary: The first leg of the journey, continued from here
Following the angel to the airport was a relatively simple matter. Crowley was well aware of the difficulties inherent in flying in the city but moreso knew that there was only one possible destination no matter how his quarry traveled. Thus he didn't worry when he lost Gabriel's trace on occasion. He'd pick it up again at Heathrow. Using short cuts and certain driving techniques, the demon made it to the airport not five minutes before Gabriel's plane left.
Parking in the loading zone, confident that his car wouldn't be bothered, Crowley hurried inside. The angel's aura was stronger here and he wondered what miracle he'd needed to perform in order to make his flight. As it was strongest at the British Airlines desk, the demon followed. In moments, he'd learned that Mr. Gabriel Engel - how original - was bound for Copenhagen on a flight that had just left. With a vehement curse and a lot of yelling, the cowed lady behind the desk who could coolly deal with even the most drunken and belligerent fliers but not a angry demon, found a seat on a rival Air France flight that was due to leave in half an hour. Crowley produced his passport and strode toward the gate.
***
Over the next several hours, he trailed Gabriel through the streets of Copenhagen, then back to the airport. It had apparently been only a stop to throw off anyone who might be following him. Which wasn't a bad idea in theory, but Crowley wondered just how dumb the angel thought he was. They went next to Munich for a day, and then to Oslo, before ending in Amsterdam, where Crowley's normally thin patience wore out.