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Crowley ([personal profile] ohmistercrowley) wrote2012-12-26 09:10 pm
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On a Midnight Darkly

One of the nice things about Castiel deciding to play Velma and tag along with the Mystery Mobile, was that it meant he ended up alone in a hotel room while the boys slept through a thin wall.  Not much, but more than enough to keep Scooby, Scrappy, Fred and Daphne from charging in on his late night visit.  Of course, there was the chance that Cas might decide to have another sparring session with angelblades; but he was hoping they could save all the flash and runway dramatics for tomorrow.  Also, that would likely go differently than Cas imagined.  He'd been unprepared that time; he'd still been focused on finding a way to get Cas out of Purgatory.  Now, there were souls at his fingertips, the power of the King of Hell.

But, tonight, he just wanted to chat.  It wasn't as if Castiel would be sleeping, and he wanted to see his prize, his angel, almost fixed; back to him, but with the voice of stronger angels messing with his mind.  However, tomorrow, he'd reassemble the Tablet of Angels, complete the Compendium of Tablets, and that would no longer be a problem.  He wondered what would happen then, if Castiel would understand why he'd done it, the bodies on his hands to save one of the only things he cared about.  Possibly not; he had no hopes for the Winchesters in that regard, but their relationship had always been more about convenient sex, rather than roses and chocolate.

He'd have killed a hundred, a thousand more to fix Castiel if it had been needed, if it would have brought him back from Purgatory, and he wouldn't have blinked.  His hands looked clean; no blood-stained apron this time, just his charcoal dark suit with its fine-tailored lines and luxurious fabric (he'd found a new tailor, but he wasn't telling -- what people knew, they used to hurt you).  His arrival was silent, just that faint displacement of air, the curve of his smile and that faint smoky scent of expensive scotch, coriander, and a faint hint of vanilla.

"Hello, Castiel."
happytobleed: (Questioning)

[personal profile] happytobleed 2012-12-27 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
Castiel was surprised. He would be lying if he said that he'd expected Crowley to show up. like that. He tried not to show it, though. He didn't flinch and he didn't look at Crowley, either.

"Crowley." His voice was far steadier than he felt as his blade materialized in the hand that was resting at his side. He wasn't up for a fight. Physically, he really wasn't capable. He could only bluff so many times, too. Even bluffing had taken a lot out of him. Still, he couldn't let Crowley hurt his friends.

"What do you want?" Perhaps he could talk his way out of this, or at least distract Crowley away and warn the others to move. They were more important than he was, anyway. There was a sag to his posture that hadn't left since that conversation with Dean. It was easier to think of it as that conversation than to dwell on what had been said.
happytobleed: (poor yorick)

[personal profile] happytobleed 2012-12-27 06:27 am (UTC)(link)
"If it's the same to you, I'd prefer to keep it out." Though he made no move to use it or to attack Crowley. He wasn't sure what Crowley would want to talk about, but their talks were often... charged, to say the least. He wouldn't let his guard down if he could help it.

It was strange to be alone with Crowley again and feel as if he might not even be in danger, but he honestly didn't feel unsafe. He wasn't sure how much of that was Crowley's word and how much was his own dwindling self-worth.

"What did you want to talk about?" He didn't deny that they were plotting to kill Crowley. Why lie when he knew the truth?