neutral_omens | (no subject)

Entry tags:

crowley,
war

(no subject)

Date: March 15, 2001
Status: Private (War and Crowley)
Setting: Greenhouse
Summary: War is doing some surveillance on the supposed cat torturer.

The morning after his awkward conversation with Gabriel, Crowley needed a quiet restorative. He'd been cooped up inside too much, which led to stilted, drunken conversations with archangels. Better to get outside, he thought, and see what was going on during the first fine day in March. The plants probably needed a good talking to as they started to poke their spring shoots out of the ground, or their pots as the case may be, so he decided to go to the greenhouse.

However, as the demon reached the door, he heard a plaintive, "Mrrrow?"

Chicago was at his feet, blinking big yellow eyes up at him. It was true she hadn't been able to explore much lately...

"Oh, all right. Stupid cat. But you'll do what I say."

She just head-butted his ankle. Crowley picked up Chicago with a sigh - no cat hairs would dare transfer themselves to his suit - and headed outside.

Once inside the greenhouse, he made sure the doors and windows were all closed to prevent her escape and let the cat down to do as she would. Sort of.

"Don't get dirty or eat anything."

With a dismissive exhale, she slinked off, all long legs and sleek fur - a huntress looking for her prey.

Rolling his eyes, the demon turned his attentions to the plants. Eventually, along a far wall, he found a sunflower idly sending roots out of its own container to one nearby.

In a loud, menacing voice, he told it, "If you don't get out of that pot this second, I am going to cut your fucking head off." The sunflower shook slightly as the roots began to slowly retract. Crowley grinned evilly.

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War had just been walking along the landing when she heard a voice saying "...you'll do as I say." Normally, she wouldn't think twice, but in this case, the voice was one she knew particularly well, having been following its owner - as she'd promised Loki - for the past few months.

Flattening herself against the wall, she though to herself, this doesn't sound good. Crowley had been out of sorts and all over the place while she'd been tracking him, but she couldn't think who he'd be giving orders to in his room.

When he opened the door, she saw that the demon had the cat held firmly in one arm, and she drew back her lips. Maybe Loki had been right after all - maybe the feline wasn't safe. Silently, she trailed him down the stairs and outside, round to the greenhouse.

She waited until the doors were safely closed then, with a quick glance over her shoulder, moved silently to crouch by the wall, shielded by a small bush. She heard the demon shutting all the windows, and narrowed her eyes. Swiftly, she ran through her options in her mind, should anything happen.

Suddenly, Crowley's loud voice broke through the air. "If you don't get out of that pot this second, I am going to cut your fucking head off."

In a split second, she realised simultaneously that Loki was right - he is trying to hurt the cat - he's trying to do it now and also that even if I don't like cats specifically I did tell Loki I'd stop this one getting hurt and finally that the best defence is a good attack, after all...

All her muscles tensed, but War resisted the temptation to throw herself through one of the panes of glass, instead reaching out to flick open the catch of the door (it didn't fit well, and there were other uses for the slim bladed throwing knives strapped to her wrists).

In one smooth movement, she threw open the door and, standing, filled the gap, her laser gun (http://community.livejournal.com/neutral_omens/98272.html?thread=1798112#t1798112) up, primed, and pointed at the demon. "Actually," she said, "I don't think you are going to."

Crowley instinctively raised his hands, looking surprised. Then he blinked at the intruder. Fabulous. He just loved the horsepersons. Even if they were technically on the same side as he was, they were creepy and unpredictable. The demon tried to mask his discomfort with sarcasm.

"Red? You're a little late for the War of the Roses..." he smirked.

"War of the Roses? Oh, that was just a bit of fun. This," War said, her voice growing harder, "is business."

Gesturing sharply with one hand, the other keeping the gun steady and trained on the side of the demon nearest the pot, she said, "Get away from that pot, right now."

The demon arched an eyebrow and stepped away, knowing that you don't piss off a woman with a firearm. "Business? I haven't done anything to you." At least not recently, as far as he knew...

War looked the demon full in the face with her flaming eyes. "Not every little scuffle is down to a personal insult to me, you know," she said. Her tone might have been mistaken for casual, were it not for the knife edge to her words.

"In this case, I've been... contracted out, shall we say."

It wasn't so much a contract as a favour, but the demon wasn't to know that. Deliberately, she stepped out of the doorway and into the greenhouse.

"You can't accept a contract on a demon!" he protested, although there were no rules against it per se.

"Fine," snapped Crowley, hoping that Adam was really keeping an eye on things, "then don't I deserve to know who contracted you and why?"

War raised an eyebrow. "I don't remember being given a handbook of rules and guidelines at any point. Besides, what is it they say? All's fair in love and War."

She smirked. "You don't need to know who. An acquaintance, and we'll leave it at that. As for why... I was asked to keep an eye on you, just to make sure things didn't get out of hand."

She shifted her grasp on the laser gun, bringing the sight to bear on the demon's shoulder. As she did so, she took advantage of the distraction of the movement to flick her eyes around the green house. Where was that cat?

Crowley snorted. "There's nothing fair about love or war."

As his mind raced, trying to figure out who this acquaintance might be, his mouth practically ran on automatic. "Get out of hand? Are you a staunch defender of sunflowers now, Red? If the Bog God merely frowned at me, I don't see why you should give a flying fuck. They can't even..." he'd been going to say hold weapons, but that wasn't true, was it. Michael had armed his houseplants with holy water pistols. It had been overkill, really, after flooding the whole flat, but the demon had gotten his revenge in the end...

Meanwhile, Chicago, who'd been hiding from the intruder on one of the benches, saw that her pet was in trouble. After thumping down to the ground, she delicately made her way over to him. Winding around his ankles once in a protective gesture, she sat on his shoes and yowled as though she were saying, 'Mine!'

The serpent smiled faintly. Her lithe little body hardly protected his - War could just shoot him in the head or chest - but his feet were protected at least. Adam would surely protect her if not him.

"Sunflowers? Don't play games with me. I play them too, remember - and I win."

There was a note of menace in her voice, when she saw the cat jump down and twine around the demon's ankles. War narrowed her eyes: she hadn't been expecting this. Still, Stockholm Syndrome (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockholm_syndrome") was nothing new on her...

In a flash, War dropped to one knee and grabbed the cat under one arm, back on her feet with the gun levelled at Crowley once more within the second.

"Did you think you could get away with it, demon? Don't you think I've been watching you? I've seen you, everything you've done - your drunken embraces, your humiliations - and it's none of my business, not until you start to hurt others." She tightened her grip on the scruff of the cat's neck, and tensed her finger on the trigger. She was losing her patience with the demon, playing his lies and games.

Chicago yowled and tried to squirm out of War's arms, biting and scratching her.

Crowley went very still. "I don't know what the fuck you're on about, but you will let my cat go immediately. If you've seen everything I've done then you'd know I haven't hurt anyone that you would give a damn about in months. But if you refuse to see sense, go ahead and shoot me. You know I'll just be back in a couple of months." Which would be a couple of months he wouldn't have to worry about Aziraphale or looking for Belial. And his superiors could hardly get angry with him for being discorporated by War. They couldn't control her either. John would look after Chicago and Adam would look after John, so that was all right. The man was distracted with Kit anyway. And though Hell was never a picnic, it shouldn't be so bad this time.

Of course, he didn't think she'd carry a non-lethal weapon...

War's eyes were cold as stone as she spoke, and her voice as hard as steel. "I'm not letting this cat go, Crowley. What you get up to is your business, so I left you alone, and only followed you. Today, though, you crossed the line."

Before she'd barely finished speaking, her thumb reached round to flick the gun to the second setting (http://community.livejournal.com/neutral_omens/98272.html?thread=1798112#t1798112), and she pulled the trigger.

Squirming and fighting worse than ever, Chicago kept trying to escape. When Crowley was shot, she let out a loud, plaintive meow and turned angry, slit-pupiled eyes on War.

For his part, the demon winced and stumbled back. He was expecting to be discorporated and ended up more confused than anything when he was only suddenly very dizzy - a relatively new sensation for someone who could control the reactions of his physical body at will. Unfortunately, it didn't stop him from talking.

"Wwwhaaa?" he tried, then shook his head, and stopped when that made the sensation worse. "Sshit, Red. I crossed the line by threatening a fucking ssunflower? Are you the gallant protector of any other flora I should know about?" Crowley asked sarcastically.

Flora? War thought to herself. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a thought tried to nudge its way forward to suggest that perhaps she had misunderstood the situation. However, when War was in combat, niggling thoughts tended to be dangerous.

"Flora?" she snorted. "I think you mean fauna. Don't try to pretend you weren't threatening this cat," she said, tightening her grip on the fur at the scruff of the cat's neck.

"Don't think you can get her back, either," she continued, flicking the weapon to the first setting and casually shooting the demon's left arm. This non-lethal fighting was proving to be entertaining.

When his arm went totally numb and he was still suffering from nausea, Crowley started to panic. "You bitch! You killed my fucking arm!" He wasn't sure he could cure that...

Turning manic eyes from the no longer working limb to her, he added, "I wasn't threatening Chicago, you idiotic cow. I was threatening the sodding ssunflower. It was putting out roots to the next container over, so I told it to stop or I'd deadhead it."

Fuck it. He wasn't going to just take this anymore, gun or no gun. The second she raised it again, she was going to get a faceful of claws. He might only have one working set, but Chicago had four.

Hating that he had to invoke the kid, Crowley said, "Now put her down or Adam hears about this little situation."

War kept still as she thought swiftly. Clearly, she had the demon in a fix, if he was having to call on Adam; equally clearly, Adam wouldn't be impressed by the situation - even if she hadn't actually hurt the demon, he had told her not to cause trouble, and if the root story was true - what did she know about plants? - then he wasn't likely to be impressed by her attempts to defend the cat. Loki might have asked her to defend the animal, but she was fairly sure he didn't intend her to get thrown out the Manor doing it - maybe when he was well he'd be up to double bluffing her like that, but at the moment he really wasn't up to it. Besides, she didn't want to get thrown out the Manor, and ever since the barbecue that seemed to be what she'd brought herself to.

"Alright," she said reluctantly, her lps narrowed, "I'll put the cat down. But you're not to reach out for her, she stays by me 'til this is sorted. I'll put the gun down too, and we can talk. Agreed?" Even without a weapon in her hand, War would hardly be defenceless.

Crowley gritted his teeth. "I don't see how I can reach out for her with a dead arm," he snarled, "but I won't. I can't guarantee she'll stay by you, though. She's a fucking cat. She does what she wants."

He was fully aware that by putting Chicago down, War would have two free arms and would be even better placed to harm him, but he might have to go back Down Below for a new body anyway - he didn't realize the arm thing was only temporary - so it was worth the risk.

"All right. Agreed. You put her down and the gun; I won't reach for either, and we'll talk."

War rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you're getting tetchy about," she said flippantly, as she bent down and put down first the gun, gently, then the cat, pursing her lips as she hooked the claws out of her sleeve. She set the animal down behind her feet, and gave her a pointed look.

"That way," she said, gesturing towards the garden behind her, "is a good way to go. The other way is not." She wasn't sure the cat would listen, but it was worth a try. As an afterthought, she added, "The garden has rabbits in it, if you feel like sticking those claws into something."

Stretching out and leaning against the door frame, she looked straight across at Crowley. "So. I don't care if you say you were just threatening plants. I was asked to make sure that the cat stayed safe, because someone didn't trust you to look after her. I've been watching you, and I didn't intervene, even though I could have done, not until I heard threats. You've hardly been in a brilliant position to take care of her, though."

"You kidnapped my cat, made me nauseous, and my arm doesn't work! I'm way past tetchy."

Giving War a final swipe to the shins, Chicago ran directly over to Crowley, standing by his ankles, but not actually touching him. She sat alertly and trained yellow eyes unblinkingly on the woman. The demon made no move to touch her. The cat relatively safe, he had a moment to think and finally put two and two together.

"'Someone' doesn't trust me to take care of her? Would this someone be a rat bastard arsehole with no fucking clue what he's talking about and goes by the name Loki? Well you can tell that slimy twat that I've never neglected her. If I'm not around, John, Ellie, or Adam cares for her. And how the fuck do you know what position I've been in anyway? Have you been following me to make sure I don't starve her or something? Did you ever think to, oh, I don't know, look at her?"

Chicago was sleek, well groomed, and bright eyed. She certainly didn't look neglected.

"Like I said, Crowley, I was asked to watch - and like I also said, I'm not telling you who - or what - asked me to do that."

War's eyes flashed orange. Though she knew she wasn't in any particular danger - the cat had stopped sratching her, and the demon didn't really seem in much of a state to do anything - she also knew that the effects of the Doctor's gun would wear off before too long, and then she - or Loki, vulnerable in the hospital - could be at risk. She decided that as soon as this was over, she ought to get back there to watch, ready to protect him in case Crowley decided to pay him a visit.

"She may look OK, but we both know that appearances can be deceiving." War narrowed her eyes. "You've hardly been entirely together the past few months, have you? Even if other people look after her, she's still your cat, which means you're meant to care about her - not lurch around snogging men, disappearing off and coming back a mess then hiding in John's room before having a row with your ex-boyfriend - not to mention drowning your sorrows in alcohol, and I can't say much for your choice of drinking companion either!" she finished, with the last of her breath.

"What happened, Crowley? I'll admit, I used to find you on the obnoxious side, all smooth and smarmy, but this... you're all over the place. You think she - or anyone else here - doesn't notice?"

Crowley gaped at her a long moment, entirely unable to speak. When he did get his voice back, he managed, "Fuck you, Red. The way I manage my life, choose the people I spend time with, and care for my cat is none of your damn business or anyone else's." Too angry to argue, he simply turned and started walking for the greenhouse door. As far as he was concerned, this conversation was over.

"Come, Chicago." She quickly ran in front of him like a little guard. If a cat could be said to have any expression at all, Chicago looked more proud than cowed.

War put one hand on her hip and stared hard at the demon as he walked towards her, leaning against the door frame.

"None of my business, maybe, but don't think that what you do has no effect on anyone else, even if they're not directly concerned by it."

Now silent, she pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes, her mind spinning the conversation over and over in her head.

"Like I don't know," he retorted bitterly, almost beyond hearing, and was gone from sight.

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