(no subject)

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

Date: December 26, 1999
Setting: Crowley's room
Status: Private - John and Crowley
Summary: John stops by to thank Crowley for his gift.

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John glanced at his watch for the third time in ten minutes; not because he couldn't remember what time it was (he knew) or even to admire the stunningly-crafted timepiece (though he did) but simply to make sure it was still there. He'd never owned anything so classy in his life, and wearing it on his person made him a little nervous. Though the second hand was acting a little funny, swinging erratically from time to time for no apparent reason. He had decided not to say anything, though; it functioned perfectly otherwise.

The tag hadn't indicated the name of the giver. He'd given it a thorough inspection for any signs of hexes, poison or other deadly payloads, and finding nothing of the sort, assumed it had come from Crowley--simply because there was nobody else at the Manor who would have the slightest reason to give him anything, other than possibly a punch in the nose, and because it was very like Crowley not to want anyone to know he was doing something that could be perceived as in any way decent, generous or not bastardly in general.

He wasn't quite sure how to say thank you for a gift to someone who might not acknowledge having given it, but it seemed incumbent on him to try. Besides, he wanted to see whether Crowley and Aziraphale had enjoyed the wine. Which his name hadn't been on. Er.

Shaking his head bemusedly, he knocked softly at Crowley's door. It wouldn't do to interrupt anything.

Comments

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley had been sitting on his bed, idly leafing through "Let There Be Lust" and thinking over what he was going to do tomorrow, when he heard the quiet knock on the door.

"Come in," he called, hoping that it wasn't Michael. They had come to some sort of understanding, as evidenced by the book he held, but he thought it would last longer if they didn't actually interact.

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

John opened the door and stuck his head inside, grinning. "Hey. I need some advice. I've been trying to think up a good crack about Gabriel's relationship with his horn in honor of the season, but I'm drawing a blank. You got any ideas?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley set aside his book and laughed.

"I don't think he'll have to blow it by himself for much longer. In fact, I suspect he'll soon bring in an expert horn blower to help."

He looked knowingly over the top of his glasses and smirked at John.

"Have a good holiday?"

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, it was all right. Rang up Cheryl and jawed a while, met Chas and Never down the pub for a piss-up...good times." He held his arm out, displaying the watch. "And look, somebody left me a right spiffy watch under the tree downstairs." He admired the thing conspicuously, smiling lopsidedly. "About knocked me on my arse, it did. It's probably worth more than everything else I own put together. Silly bugger forgot to put a name on the tag, though."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"I'm sure the silly bugger didn't forget," said Crowley drily. "I'm sure he did it because he didn't want everyone in the world to know he was giving something to someone who'd be able to figure it out for himself."

He stood up and walked a couple of steps forward to look at the watch on John's arm.

"There's more to it than it seems," he said conversationally. "Think about Chas."

John looked puzzled, but he must have done it because the second hand on the watch swung to the right for three seconds then returned to where it was supposed to be.

"If it swings right, it means he's safe. If it ever goes left, it means he's in danger. It'll work for anyone you know, anywhere they may be." Crowley shrugged. "Just thought you'd like to be able to keep an eye on things while you were here. My intern, Draco, gave me the idea."

He didn't tell John about what else the watch could do.

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

John's eyebrows shot up, and he mentally ran down the list of everybody whose safety he had reason to concern himself with. The hand swung to the right and stayed there until he'd gone through them all, then returned to its normal position.

"Well, I'd call that a bloody clever bit of work," he said, impressed. Draco, huh? Kid's got a better head on his shoulders than I thought. "Thanks, mate. That'll come in handy."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"I thought so. Just keep it on at all times, will you? You never know when you'll need it. It's completely waterproof and the crystal can't be scratched or broken, nor will you ever need to change the battery, so there's no reason to take it off."

Crowley crossed to his dresser and lifted the bottle of wine he'd received for Christmas off the top.

"You know it's funny how you received that with no name on the tag, because that's exactly how this bottle arrived. I don't suppose you'd know anything about that?"

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

John checked a frown at the request, which seemed a little peculiar. The watchband was extremely comfortable, to be sure, but he wasn't in the habit of wearing a watch while sleeping or showering, nor were most people he knew.

He glanced down at the handsome timepiece again, wondering if there was something else about it that Crowley wasn't telling him. Trying to put one over on me, old son? Well. We'll try it for a while then, I guess, and see what happens. "...sure. I can do that." Crowley had given him a number of reasons not to distrust him, and though he was paranoid by reflex, he was inclined to give his friend the benefit of the doubt where at all possible.

"Oh, that?" he said in answer to Crowley's inquiry, rubbing self-consciously at the back of his neck. "Seems vaguely familiar, now that you mention it. I might know a bloke who knew a bloke who was an expert on good booze."

He hoped Crowley would leave it at that. Not that he thought the demon would give a rat's arse that his own claim on the stuff was scarcely legal--couldn't just stand by and watch a good mate's pride and joy get auctioned off for back taxes, now could he?--but it always made him feel slightly sick, knowing how Brendan had come by his collection and where it had eventually led them both. Giving it away to an uninvolved party wasn't just a gesture of friendship, it was also a way to lay the whole sad business to rest, once and for all.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley simply looked at John for a moment.

"And did this friend of a friend ever mention to you what this hundred-year-old, dusty bottle was worth in today's market?"

John shook his head.

"Probably a lot more than this bloke you know would be willing to give as a gift. About ten thousand pounds more. Maybe the bloke would consider a trade back for a more recent vintage?"

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

John's couldn't prevent his eyes widening just a fraction. Christ, Brendan! It was no wonder the old villain had sold his soul--there was no way he could have afforded something like that, even if he'd acquired it years ago at a lower price. He wondered how much the rest of the collection had been worth, then decided it was better not to know.

He hesitated a moment. It was a lot of money, all right. A stupefying amount to pay for one bottle of spoiled grape juice. But what was he going to do, sell it? Brendan hadn't bought it for the investment, for sure, and it just wouldn't sit right to see it go to a stranger.

"Nah. I know the guy pretty well, see; I don't think he'd feel right profiting off it." He chuckled, feeling better already. "And just between you and me, he's kind of a cultural numbskull. Better it stays with somebody who'll appreciate it properly."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley nodded. He'd have felt guilty drinking the wine without letting John have the opportunity to take it back, but he and Aziraphale could now enjoy it with a clear conscience. And, all things considered, it was a fair trade, as the watch, had he paid for it, would have cost about the same amount. Not that he'd tell John that.

"It will be very much appreciated then," he said as he returned it to its resting place on his dresser.

"Actually, I'm glad you stopped by. I had something I wanted to talk to you about. It's about your spell. Someone wants to use it..."

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

"Someone?" John repeated, a trifle alarmed. There were reasons why he'd kept the thing under his metaphorical hat; having an army of free-willed celestials galavanting around the planet would pose some serious problems for, well, pretty much everybody else. Of course it hadn't occurred to him to mention this to Crowley, so he supposed he had nobody to blame but himself. "Um. All right. Anybody I know?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"The only person I've mentioned it to," said Crowley seriously.

"Belial."

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

"...Belial?" John blinked. Blinked again, and silently cursed himself for a complete and utter, hopeless fuckwit. Damn, damn, damn, why the fuck didn't I think of that? That big bastard would bloody well give anything he's got for a shot at slipping his leash. And I've had it in my hands for years!

"Oh?" he said carefully aloud, his face a mask of calculated indifference as his heart sank about as low as it could go. "Heh, I bet he's just chomping at the bit to get his hands on that...what d'you need to know?"

He hoped, at least, that Crowley had got a good price for the secret. This really wasn't why he'd handed it over to him, but he wouldn't begrudge his friend any gain he could make off it. Within reason.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

John's response was not what Crowley had been expecting and he wondered for a moment what was wrong. The man hadn't said he couldn't use the spell for other purposes.

It had taken Crowley months to come to the realization that the spell could be used as a bargaining chip rather than just an escape. Maybe John had never come to that realization at all...

Oh, you think that you're an irredeemably evil bastard, but you're just not devious enough, my friend. And you're far too generous and caring. But at least it won't cost you this time.

Aloud he said, "I've been studying the spell thoroughly and I think I've got a handle on it. But I'd be a lot more comfortable if you would stick around to supervise and make sure that I don't fuck anything up. Aziraphale will be there to help, too, but it's just not the same as experience."

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

John nodded slowly, though he wasn't especially keen on the idea. It wasn't going to be easy to watch, though Crowley would have by far the more difficult and unpleasant task if he planned to perform the spell himself. John hoped the experience wouldn't influence his or Aziraphale's own decision too much (if they hadn't decided against it already; neither of them had said a word to him about it, one way or the other.)

"All right. Though I doubt you'll have any trouble." The thought did cross his mind that if Crowley had lost his lunch watching a man's skin being stripped off, he might not react all that well to having to carve into someone's living organs, but they'd have to see.

"You're in a lot better position to do it here than I was with Ellie," he went on. Thinking back on his last and only experience with the ritual, he tried to remember what sorts of preparations and safeguards it entailed. "If you haven't already, you'll want to see if the Sister will let you commandeer a room in the hospital wing. It's not that hard and it doesn't take long, and the spell takes care of sealing everything up, but it's messy. Lots of bleeding. He'll be in shock after."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Well, that's why I wanted Aziraphale around. I figured he could do some angelic anesthetic and healing as I go to try and prevent some of that. Hospital's a good idea, though. I'll ask Mary."

Crowley sat back on his bed. The spell made him nervous. Not just the execution of it, but the consequences. And although his ulterior motive for doing it on Belial was to acquire the piece of John's soul, he also wanted to see its effects before considering using it himself.

"All right, John, tell me straight up. What are the cons here? What happens if I do it wrong? Could I kill him? Or do something worse? He's not a bad sort. I don't want to relegate him to the Dungeon Dimensions by accident or something."

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

"Worst case scenario?" John considered it for a minute. "You mis-scribe a sigil or misspeak a word too badly to compensate, the spell comes to a screeching halt, the Watchtowers leave in a huff and you and Aziraphale wind up having to put him back together yourselves before he bleeds to death. Magically speaking, it's a protective spell; getting it to do anything else would take a complete overhaul. The worst it'd do to him is hide or protect him from somebody or something you didn't intend. If it backlashed, which is possible in theory, it'd likely have the same effect on you."

"Honestly though, I'd be less worried about any side effects than I would about Belial himself," he added, remembering vividly both the unexpected snog in the bar and the iron grip that had come within millimeters of crushing his windpipe. "I couldn't begin to predict what he'd do if something did go wrong. You may want to have restraints in place if you're that worried about it."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley nodded, slightly reassured. He was too familiar with the sigils and the languages to worry about getting those wrong, and he didn't think Belial would mind if it shielded him from someone else, so long as it wasn't Gabriel. And if there should there be backlash, well, Crowley had been thinking about doing it himself anyway.

The only person he'd really have to watch out for was Aziraphale. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he accidentally cut the angel off from the Presence. But he didn't want to think about that. So long as he concentrated and did it all properly, everything should be fine.

"Another good suggestion, John. That's why I need you with me. But you're right, he can be rather unpredictable at times..." Crowley shook his head. "How the hell did you do this before?"

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

John lit a cigarette. "On an old mattress on the floor of an abandoned building," he said, coolly and truthfully, "with a case of stolen surgical tools." He put his lighter away, smiling faintly. "Desperate times, you know?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Desperate times, indeed," said Crowley, arching a surprised eyebrow. "Can't have been terribly pleasant for either of you, but between that and all the forces of Hell coming after me - I'd choose that. At any rate, this should be a lot easier. Belial is going to meet me here tomorrow at noon to take care of a few things and I'll bring him to the hospital no later than one o'clock. If you and Aziraphale will meet me there, we'll be all set."

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

"Right. I'll be there," John said. "Guess I better go look over the procedure again, just so I've got it fresh in my mind."

"Oh, by the way," he added as he opened the door, glancing around quickly outside the room first, "if Michael should come around asking about a sprinkler malfunction and his laptop? I had nothing to do with it." He winked and stepped out, shutting the door behind him.