Twelve Months - October
Title: Twelve Months
By: musegaarid & _serpensortia
Rating: PG-13
Notes: The previous chapters are here... February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September
"Haniel to see you, Gabriel."
The Messenger nodded. "Thank you, Dobiel. Show him in."
She did and moments later, the Lover was once again perched on the corner of his desk. Uncomfortably certain that he was about to be grilled about the whole Crowley situation without even being sure how he felt about it himself, Gabriel asked quietly, "How can I help you today, Haniel?"
Haniel didn't reply at first. He just tipped his fedora back to give Gabriel the once over. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he said, "Need a favor-avous, kiddo. There's a fink wingding going down in Leicester Square. Someone should ankle over there but it seems the other fellas made tracks and it's not my scene. Got another urgent gig I'm working on at the mo."
"You want me to investigate a demon's activity?" he translated, confused. "Why not Raguel? Surely she's a better choice to handle this... Or one of the other cherubs?" The Messenger wondered how Haniel had come to be involved in this at all.
The Lover gave an expressive shrug and lit a cigarette. "Hooey. You're the right fella for the job. You know your onions when it comes to The Big Smoke."
"Well, yes, I know London well, but Haniel, that doesn't mean..."
"Swell," Haniel interrupted, blowing a smoke ring. "Ring-a-ding-ding!"
Gabriel knew when he'd been out-gunned, so he stood wearily and headed for the door. It was better than waiting around until Haniel remembered something else he wanted to talk about...
"Hold up!" exclaimed the Lover, hopping onto his feet. Gabriel gave him a wary look. "You can't just go in that get-up. You've gotta put on your glad rags."
"What?"
"It's a holiday, boyo. Halloween. You've gotta look the part."
Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh, for the love of... You want me to put on a costume and thwart a demon in a crowd of people in London on Halloween night without drawing undue attention."
"That's about the long and the short of it, sweetheart," Haniel grinned.
"You're enjoying this," Gabriel said bitterly. He thought for a moment, trying to come up with something simple, and Remiel came to mind. The angel of hope was always wearing scrubs to tend to his nursing duties even if his boss, the Healer, seemed to prefer glittery t-shirts and jeans with holes in the knees. With an economical gesture, Gabriel was wearing a lab coat over his usual white shirt and grey slacks and had a stethoscope around his neck. "Acceptable?" he asked dryly.
"Sure. You look snazzy. Don't take any wooden nickles, now."
"Trust me," said Gabriel feelingly. "I won't." And he left for the mortal plane.
***
Landing discreetly, the Messenger quickly made his way into the utter chaos that was Leicester Square. Everywhere he looked were intoxicated people in strange costumes, each more bizarre than the last. There weren't many ghosts and vampires around. Not when one could be Marie Antoinette at her most extravagant, the Red Death from the masquerade scene of Phantom of the Opera, or what appeared to be a giant prophylactic. Gabriel stood still a moment, trying to get his bearings when he felt a hand touch his arm. It belonged to a beautiful, if somewhat artificially so, brunette in a rather revealing white outfit.
"Ooh, what a handsome doctor," she purred. "You look like you need a naughty nurse..." And she wiggled to show her, ahem, qualifications.
"Thank you, but no,” Gabriel replied quickly. As he removed the nurse’s hand, however, the angel was struck by something that he had to classify as more than just ‘naughty’. The girl had the sense of true evil on her: faint traces, but enough to let him know that she had recently been influenced by an agent of Hell.
The nurse pouted and slinked off, muttering something about how the cute ones were always gay.
Gabriel knew he couldn’t depend on her to lead him back to the demon - she may not have even seen him if he’d been practicing his hijinks from a distance - but the solid proof that there was a demon nearby set Gabriel on edge more than any of the semi-lewd acts being performed by the large contraceptive and his new friend, the pirate wench, on the makeshift dance floor at the middle of the square. The angel tried to stretch out his awareness to locate his foe on a different playing field, but the odd powers of belief and superstition that had long accompanied All Hallow’s Eve mixed with the current drunken revelry to confound any sense he had of the supernatural more than three meters from him. Unless the demon were going to perform the equivalent of a small star imploding, Gabriel wasn’t likely to sense his working until he’d practically stumbled over him.
The archangel could sense his work, though, which meant that this enigmatic agent would know Gabriel’s when he ran across it. And Gabriel was here to thwart...
A young woman dressed as some sort of vampire stumbled into him, grasping at his sleeve for support. Halfway through her slurred apology, she froze, looked him over, and then asked if she couldn’t make it up to him in a rather indecent manner. Gabriel smiled and, saying nothing, helped her steady herself in her high heels. In this brief contact, he not only learned that Connie, a young woman from Michigan studying for a semester abroad, had forgotten that today was her grandmother’s birthday, but also subtly drew forth the thought that she should call before it got too late in Detroit.
"I have to go," she told Gabriel abruptly, her eyes going wide. She wandered away from him, heels clunking as she went. Before she’d gotten three steps from him, she’d drawn out her mobile phone. "Hi, Grannie. It’s me, Connie... No, Grannie, that’s just the radio you hear..."
Forty-five minutes later, Gabriel had convinced one husband not to cheat on his wife (as well as said wife not to cheat on her husband - he dropped heavy hints for marriage counseling to both of them), inspired twelve people not to drink to excess, and had even managed to start a nice limbo on the dance floor, which generally discouraged the kind of suggestive moves that had been prevalent before. Whoever this demon was, he had to know he was here by now.
"I guess subtlety never was Heaven’s strong point," said a dry voice at Gabriel’s elbow. Gabriel turned quickly to find a young man in a Roman legionnaire's costume. It was amazingly accurate as far as Gabriel could remember, with the plumed helmet, elaborate bronze chest plate, short leather skirt, and long shin guards, but what was most striking was the man's piercing grey eyes.
After a moment, recognition dawned.
"Crowley?" Gabriel felt somewhat foolish at the surprise in his voice, but those eyes...
"Don’t act so damn surprised, angel," Crowley snapped. "Aren’t you tired of the fucking stalker act yet?"
"What? I... no. Your eyes..." said Gabriel. He remembered those eyes now. He'd forgotten how penetrating they'd been. Though Gabriel never spoke much with Crowley back then - not when he was responsible only for the authorities and the virtue that Crowley had been served under Haniel's command - the angel was sure those eyes had tracked his movements more than once. That frank gaze had been almost like a physical presence. And now, without his ever-present sunglasses, Crowley looked entirely different. Softer, perhaps, despite his angry expression. Almost... angelic.
"Contacts," replied Crowley shortly. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Sent to look for a demon," the angel murmured unthinkingly. "Have you seen one around?"
Crowley looked amazingly disdainful despite the coloured contact lenses. "Not recently," he said, drier than a good martini in summer, "but I'll let you know the next time I pass a mirror."
Gabriel stared at him. Had he actually just forgotten...? "Look, I didn’t know... I thought Haniel would have told me if it was you."
Crowley blinked. "Haniel? Haniel sent you?"
The archangel nodded. "It was some kind of favor. He didn’t really explain, but he couldn't come down this evening; he had another project..."
To his surprise, the serpent burst out laughing. "Classic," he managed between breaths. "Totally classic."
"What is?"
"Haniel set you up, angel,” Crowley said. "He made you the patsy. Set you to take the rap. Thirties slang not helping? Look, I'll bet you a thousand pounds that there wasn’t any other 'project' he was busy with tonight."
"You think Haniel invented that story just to get me here? Why?" But Gabriel knew. Before he’d finished asking the question - maybe before he’d even arrived. He knew as well as if it had been written in shining letters in the sky. He'd never told Haniel about his confession to Crowley, so the Lover was still pushing his agenda forward; he was giving Gabriel further opportunities to try and seduce the demon - or be seduced. Whichever.
The thing that Gabriel didn’t understand was why none of this really upset him.
"Fuck if I know," Crowley was saying. He shrugged, his armour clanking. "But you don’t seem too surprised."
"I..." Gabriel shook his head faintly. "I should go."
It was almost like a shadow fell over Crowley's face in the well-lit London night. The angles of his cheekbones stood out in high relief but his bright eyes were hooded. "You came all the way down here, you sure you won't stay for a drink..." he asked, his tone voicing something that even the Messenger couldn't interpret.
A smile touched the edges of the archangel's lips. "... All right, tempter. I suppose I have enough time for one."
November
By: musegaarid & _serpensortia
Rating: PG-13
Notes: The previous chapters are here... February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September
"Haniel to see you, Gabriel."
The Messenger nodded. "Thank you, Dobiel. Show him in."
She did and moments later, the Lover was once again perched on the corner of his desk. Uncomfortably certain that he was about to be grilled about the whole Crowley situation without even being sure how he felt about it himself, Gabriel asked quietly, "How can I help you today, Haniel?"
Haniel didn't reply at first. He just tipped his fedora back to give Gabriel the once over. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he said, "Need a favor-avous, kiddo. There's a fink wingding going down in Leicester Square. Someone should ankle over there but it seems the other fellas made tracks and it's not my scene. Got another urgent gig I'm working on at the mo."
"You want me to investigate a demon's activity?" he translated, confused. "Why not Raguel? Surely she's a better choice to handle this... Or one of the other cherubs?" The Messenger wondered how Haniel had come to be involved in this at all.
The Lover gave an expressive shrug and lit a cigarette. "Hooey. You're the right fella for the job. You know your onions when it comes to The Big Smoke."
"Well, yes, I know London well, but Haniel, that doesn't mean..."
"Swell," Haniel interrupted, blowing a smoke ring. "Ring-a-ding-ding!"
Gabriel knew when he'd been out-gunned, so he stood wearily and headed for the door. It was better than waiting around until Haniel remembered something else he wanted to talk about...
"Hold up!" exclaimed the Lover, hopping onto his feet. Gabriel gave him a wary look. "You can't just go in that get-up. You've gotta put on your glad rags."
"What?"
"It's a holiday, boyo. Halloween. You've gotta look the part."
Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh, for the love of... You want me to put on a costume and thwart a demon in a crowd of people in London on Halloween night without drawing undue attention."
"That's about the long and the short of it, sweetheart," Haniel grinned.
"You're enjoying this," Gabriel said bitterly. He thought for a moment, trying to come up with something simple, and Remiel came to mind. The angel of hope was always wearing scrubs to tend to his nursing duties even if his boss, the Healer, seemed to prefer glittery t-shirts and jeans with holes in the knees. With an economical gesture, Gabriel was wearing a lab coat over his usual white shirt and grey slacks and had a stethoscope around his neck. "Acceptable?" he asked dryly.
"Sure. You look snazzy. Don't take any wooden nickles, now."
"Trust me," said Gabriel feelingly. "I won't." And he left for the mortal plane.
***
Landing discreetly, the Messenger quickly made his way into the utter chaos that was Leicester Square. Everywhere he looked were intoxicated people in strange costumes, each more bizarre than the last. There weren't many ghosts and vampires around. Not when one could be Marie Antoinette at her most extravagant, the Red Death from the masquerade scene of Phantom of the Opera, or what appeared to be a giant prophylactic. Gabriel stood still a moment, trying to get his bearings when he felt a hand touch his arm. It belonged to a beautiful, if somewhat artificially so, brunette in a rather revealing white outfit.
"Ooh, what a handsome doctor," she purred. "You look like you need a naughty nurse..." And she wiggled to show her, ahem, qualifications.
"Thank you, but no,” Gabriel replied quickly. As he removed the nurse’s hand, however, the angel was struck by something that he had to classify as more than just ‘naughty’. The girl had the sense of true evil on her: faint traces, but enough to let him know that she had recently been influenced by an agent of Hell.
The nurse pouted and slinked off, muttering something about how the cute ones were always gay.
Gabriel knew he couldn’t depend on her to lead him back to the demon - she may not have even seen him if he’d been practicing his hijinks from a distance - but the solid proof that there was a demon nearby set Gabriel on edge more than any of the semi-lewd acts being performed by the large contraceptive and his new friend, the pirate wench, on the makeshift dance floor at the middle of the square. The angel tried to stretch out his awareness to locate his foe on a different playing field, but the odd powers of belief and superstition that had long accompanied All Hallow’s Eve mixed with the current drunken revelry to confound any sense he had of the supernatural more than three meters from him. Unless the demon were going to perform the equivalent of a small star imploding, Gabriel wasn’t likely to sense his working until he’d practically stumbled over him.
The archangel could sense his work, though, which meant that this enigmatic agent would know Gabriel’s when he ran across it. And Gabriel was here to thwart...
A young woman dressed as some sort of vampire stumbled into him, grasping at his sleeve for support. Halfway through her slurred apology, she froze, looked him over, and then asked if she couldn’t make it up to him in a rather indecent manner. Gabriel smiled and, saying nothing, helped her steady herself in her high heels. In this brief contact, he not only learned that Connie, a young woman from Michigan studying for a semester abroad, had forgotten that today was her grandmother’s birthday, but also subtly drew forth the thought that she should call before it got too late in Detroit.
"I have to go," she told Gabriel abruptly, her eyes going wide. She wandered away from him, heels clunking as she went. Before she’d gotten three steps from him, she’d drawn out her mobile phone. "Hi, Grannie. It’s me, Connie... No, Grannie, that’s just the radio you hear..."
Forty-five minutes later, Gabriel had convinced one husband not to cheat on his wife (as well as said wife not to cheat on her husband - he dropped heavy hints for marriage counseling to both of them), inspired twelve people not to drink to excess, and had even managed to start a nice limbo on the dance floor, which generally discouraged the kind of suggestive moves that had been prevalent before. Whoever this demon was, he had to know he was here by now.
"I guess subtlety never was Heaven’s strong point," said a dry voice at Gabriel’s elbow. Gabriel turned quickly to find a young man in a Roman legionnaire's costume. It was amazingly accurate as far as Gabriel could remember, with the plumed helmet, elaborate bronze chest plate, short leather skirt, and long shin guards, but what was most striking was the man's piercing grey eyes.
After a moment, recognition dawned.
"Crowley?" Gabriel felt somewhat foolish at the surprise in his voice, but those eyes...
"Don’t act so damn surprised, angel," Crowley snapped. "Aren’t you tired of the fucking stalker act yet?"
"What? I... no. Your eyes..." said Gabriel. He remembered those eyes now. He'd forgotten how penetrating they'd been. Though Gabriel never spoke much with Crowley back then - not when he was responsible only for the authorities and the virtue that Crowley had been served under Haniel's command - the angel was sure those eyes had tracked his movements more than once. That frank gaze had been almost like a physical presence. And now, without his ever-present sunglasses, Crowley looked entirely different. Softer, perhaps, despite his angry expression. Almost... angelic.
"Contacts," replied Crowley shortly. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Sent to look for a demon," the angel murmured unthinkingly. "Have you seen one around?"
Crowley looked amazingly disdainful despite the coloured contact lenses. "Not recently," he said, drier than a good martini in summer, "but I'll let you know the next time I pass a mirror."
Gabriel stared at him. Had he actually just forgotten...? "Look, I didn’t know... I thought Haniel would have told me if it was you."
Crowley blinked. "Haniel? Haniel sent you?"
The archangel nodded. "It was some kind of favor. He didn’t really explain, but he couldn't come down this evening; he had another project..."
To his surprise, the serpent burst out laughing. "Classic," he managed between breaths. "Totally classic."
"What is?"
"Haniel set you up, angel,” Crowley said. "He made you the patsy. Set you to take the rap. Thirties slang not helping? Look, I'll bet you a thousand pounds that there wasn’t any other 'project' he was busy with tonight."
"You think Haniel invented that story just to get me here? Why?" But Gabriel knew. Before he’d finished asking the question - maybe before he’d even arrived. He knew as well as if it had been written in shining letters in the sky. He'd never told Haniel about his confession to Crowley, so the Lover was still pushing his agenda forward; he was giving Gabriel further opportunities to try and seduce the demon - or be seduced. Whichever.
The thing that Gabriel didn’t understand was why none of this really upset him.
"Fuck if I know," Crowley was saying. He shrugged, his armour clanking. "But you don’t seem too surprised."
"I..." Gabriel shook his head faintly. "I should go."
It was almost like a shadow fell over Crowley's face in the well-lit London night. The angles of his cheekbones stood out in high relief but his bright eyes were hooded. "You came all the way down here, you sure you won't stay for a drink..." he asked, his tone voicing something that even the Messenger couldn't interpret.
A smile touched the edges of the archangel's lips. "... All right, tempter. I suppose I have enough time for one."
November