Fic: Perilous Maquinations (SPN Crowley)
Title: Perilous Machinations
Author: may_unleashed
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Season 6 finale
Summary: "Power was an addictive thing, after all, and getting Castiel to drop from his new high pedestal would require several ingenious wiles and temptations"
Crowley materialized in the middle of a wide living room; the flat silent, inconspicuous. For the trained eye, though, it was littered with strange talismans and covered in sigils.
A large improvement from that old rickety place that he had told the Winchesters was his last safe shelter. To this day he was not sure whether the humans had believed him or not.
Crowley could never be too careful, his best strategy was to be one step ahead. To have as many faces, places and moods as possible. Diversification and variety were his ticket to freedom, after all.
With an air of patient resignation, he wandered over to the kitchenette, going straight for the liquors. He paused, listening, projecting his senses around the apartment, the building, a five kilometers ratio.
Nothing so far, not a sound or a sign of suspicious inclinations.
“It won’t be long now, though” -the demon murmured to himself, the words neutral but light- “And Heaven will be knocking on this door” -a rueful smirk appeared on his lips as he poured himself a shot of amber liquid- “Quite the tainted Heaven, anyway. My my, this just might be an excellent business opening…”
A few minutes ago, Crowley had been standing in one of his four shady warehouses, a witness to Castiel’s reappearance with an empty jar of blood, and packing a punch of soul-induced energy that could easily wipe out the city.
The demon had no delusions as to what had surely happened to his short-term associate Raphael. Crowley had expected it, anyway, it was part of this game of chess.
Likewise, he had expected Castiel to allow Crowley his graceful exit. The angel was crafty enough to understand that Crowley had gained him enough time to open the gate to Purgatory without interference.
Seriously, who could possible believe that a demon of his caliber would be fooled by dog blood?
“You’ll be curious about it, won’t you?”- Crowley pondered aloud, languid steps taking him across the rooms towards the tall window view- “Just as you’ll be soft enough to let your Winchesters and good ol’ Bobby live” -a sip, a mild frown- “Ah, you better let them off the hook easy, angel. I can’t go around adjusting my plans at everyone’s whim and turn, bunch of inconsiderate people” -the remaining drops of liquor whirled placidly.
Crowley emptied the glass in a swift movement, whisking it out of existence with a mild wave afterwards.
There was no point in continuing drinking. The demon had a redemption plan to improvise, and he still had to work out a way to rope in those humans and ensure their involvement without sacrificing more of his pride. It was not going to be a walk in the park, more like a walk on brimstone while wearing flammable clothes and uncomfortable cheap shoes.
Power was an addictive thing, after all, and getting Castiel to drop from his new high pedestal would require several ingenious wiles and temptations. A bothersome, dangerous game that Crowley would actually enjoy if his eternal life wasn’t so dependent on it.
In truth Crowley was tired of the whole warring bloody mess, and would prefer a vacation on the Riviera, but there was no going back now. Served him right, he admitted quietly to himself, for getting involved with Dean and Sam and their remarkable bad luck in everything. These humans were fun and cute to poke around, but enough was enough. If all what Crowley was going to receive for his efforts was a soul-hogging, powered-up angel after his hide, then thin-
A loud gushing sound and a strong presence were rushing towards the building, and Crowley knew well who his visitor was. Sigils and charms would not stop the advance.
There was no use in disguising his nervous fear, since the angel was expecting it. Ironically enough, this time Crowley had to be quite honest if he wanted his strategy to work.
The demon turned around, adjusting his necktie in a fairly sheepish gesture. What better way to start this conversation than annoying and charming his guest?
“Hello again, luv. Did you give Raphael my final regards? Bet he-she wasn’t expecting that, hm?”
Stony silence and a raised hand -Castiel’s fingers poised to destroy- met Crowley’s remark.
The demon smiled conspiratorially.
“Feels nice, doesn’t it? Or a tad overwhelming, perhaps? The power of a God. I wonder how your boys took this new development…”
Slowly, the hand lowered itself. Castiel’s expression grew, if possibly, more troubled.
Crowley didn’t bother hiding his smug expression.
‘Ahhh, yes. I can work with this. A business opening indeed’.
The plan was back in motion, it seemed.
Author: may_unleashed
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Season 6 finale
Summary: "Power was an addictive thing, after all, and getting Castiel to drop from his new high pedestal would require several ingenious wiles and temptations"
Crowley materialized in the middle of a wide living room; the flat silent, inconspicuous. For the trained eye, though, it was littered with strange talismans and covered in sigils.
A large improvement from that old rickety place that he had told the Winchesters was his last safe shelter. To this day he was not sure whether the humans had believed him or not.
Crowley could never be too careful, his best strategy was to be one step ahead. To have as many faces, places and moods as possible. Diversification and variety were his ticket to freedom, after all.
With an air of patient resignation, he wandered over to the kitchenette, going straight for the liquors. He paused, listening, projecting his senses around the apartment, the building, a five kilometers ratio.
Nothing so far, not a sound or a sign of suspicious inclinations.
“It won’t be long now, though” -the demon murmured to himself, the words neutral but light- “And Heaven will be knocking on this door” -a rueful smirk appeared on his lips as he poured himself a shot of amber liquid- “Quite the tainted Heaven, anyway. My my, this just might be an excellent business opening…”
A few minutes ago, Crowley had been standing in one of his four shady warehouses, a witness to Castiel’s reappearance with an empty jar of blood, and packing a punch of soul-induced energy that could easily wipe out the city.
The demon had no delusions as to what had surely happened to his short-term associate Raphael. Crowley had expected it, anyway, it was part of this game of chess.
Likewise, he had expected Castiel to allow Crowley his graceful exit. The angel was crafty enough to understand that Crowley had gained him enough time to open the gate to Purgatory without interference.
Seriously, who could possible believe that a demon of his caliber would be fooled by dog blood?
“You’ll be curious about it, won’t you?”- Crowley pondered aloud, languid steps taking him across the rooms towards the tall window view- “Just as you’ll be soft enough to let your Winchesters and good ol’ Bobby live” -a sip, a mild frown- “Ah, you better let them off the hook easy, angel. I can’t go around adjusting my plans at everyone’s whim and turn, bunch of inconsiderate people” -the remaining drops of liquor whirled placidly.
Crowley emptied the glass in a swift movement, whisking it out of existence with a mild wave afterwards.
There was no point in continuing drinking. The demon had a redemption plan to improvise, and he still had to work out a way to rope in those humans and ensure their involvement without sacrificing more of his pride. It was not going to be a walk in the park, more like a walk on brimstone while wearing flammable clothes and uncomfortable cheap shoes.
Power was an addictive thing, after all, and getting Castiel to drop from his new high pedestal would require several ingenious wiles and temptations. A bothersome, dangerous game that Crowley would actually enjoy if his eternal life wasn’t so dependent on it.
In truth Crowley was tired of the whole warring bloody mess, and would prefer a vacation on the Riviera, but there was no going back now. Served him right, he admitted quietly to himself, for getting involved with Dean and Sam and their remarkable bad luck in everything. These humans were fun and cute to poke around, but enough was enough. If all what Crowley was going to receive for his efforts was a soul-hogging, powered-up angel after his hide, then thin-
A loud gushing sound and a strong presence were rushing towards the building, and Crowley knew well who his visitor was. Sigils and charms would not stop the advance.
There was no use in disguising his nervous fear, since the angel was expecting it. Ironically enough, this time Crowley had to be quite honest if he wanted his strategy to work.
The demon turned around, adjusting his necktie in a fairly sheepish gesture. What better way to start this conversation than annoying and charming his guest?
“Hello again, luv. Did you give Raphael my final regards? Bet he-she wasn’t expecting that, hm?”
Stony silence and a raised hand -Castiel’s fingers poised to destroy- met Crowley’s remark.
The demon smiled conspiratorially.
“Feels nice, doesn’t it? Or a tad overwhelming, perhaps? The power of a God. I wonder how your boys took this new development…”
Slowly, the hand lowered itself. Castiel’s expression grew, if possibly, more troubled.
Crowley didn’t bother hiding his smug expression.
‘Ahhh, yes. I can work with this. A business opening indeed’.
The plan was back in motion, it seemed.