neutral_omens | (no subject)

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Date: January 23, 2000
Setting: The manor's greenhouse
Status: Semi-Private: Crowley, Mike and Raph
Summary: Crowley runs into the couple

After their usual shower, Raphael wanted a change of scenery - they both spent quite a bit of time in one room or another. It would be cold outside though.

"Let's go to the greenhouse," Raph said with a smile, not even bothering to ask Michael if he wanted to. If he was there, then Michael wanted to be there as well.

Leading him by the hand Raphael walked to the greenhouse with the larger angel in his wake.

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Upon finding himself being kissed by yet another inhabitant of the Manor, Crowley could only shrug internally and see what happened. He knew he was good looking, but this seemed excessive.

The effect of the (rather exceptional) kiss was to bring back that cloudy, floaty, fuzzy feeling from before and remove all his pain. He was high as a kite and not interested in coming down any time soon.

Crowley pouted at Remus, looking at him with now uncovered eyes. "Not a muggle. Not a wizard. Not an angel. Fallen, fallen angel. Broken crashing down. Need my angel. He'll fix it all better. Not like awful angels who hurt and hate. Stupid, stupid Raphael. Never listens. Stupid, stupid Michael. Never thinks. Tried and tried and tried. Tried too much. Draw attention away from my angel. From my friend. Friend. I have one. How odd. Hasn't helped him much. Helped me. Help me."

With that, his eyes closed and he dropped immediately into sleep.

Remus stared down at the demon, and decided to take the pair at their word. John had mentioned... Perhaps it was only Muggles playing pretend? Whatever they were, and whatever had happened didn't particularly matter; the man (demon?) was clearly hurt and needed help.

"Should I get someone, then?" he asked, a degree of shock in his voice. He took back his earlier assumption; the ma- demon's angel, whoever it was, was certainly not the lady here. The curiously restrained kiss proved that. "The, er, angel?" The werewolf paused. "Who is the angel? Where are they?"

He turned to the girl. "Or would you like to get him to the hospital wing first? I can help," he said, touching her shoulder.

Ellie made meaningless soothing noises through Crowley's disjointed stream-of-consciousness rambling, patting his hand and ignoring the sting in her own eyes as he spoke so wistfully of the Fall and of his angel. "He'll be all right," she said when he'd nodded off. "It's shock, mostly. He'd do better in his own bed..."

She looked up and smiled at Remus's offer. "That would be very kind of you. I'm sorry, I've been rude...my name's Ellie, and this is Crowley, and if you happen to have a wand on you I'd be grateful for some help moving him." She summoned a soft fleece throw out of nothing and wrapped Crowley up snugly in it. "Aziraphale is around the Manor somewhere, and he will have to be told, but I'd prefer it be afterward. There's no point to bringing him out here and upsetting him."

Unfortunately, another angelic presence was liable to aggravate matters more than help right now. Better to give Crowley a few minutes to recover first, get him safely to his room and not looking quite so pulverized, then find the angel. Though how she was going to tell Aziraphale that Raphael had done this, Ellie didn't know.

Startled again, he looked at her the moment she mentioned "wand".

"Right, I've got one here actually," he said, and tugged it out of his sleeve smoothly. He glanced at her before pointing his wand at the man- demo- Crowley's face and,

"Wingardium Leviosa."

The body rose into the air swiftly, and it was a credit to Remus' capabilities that the blanket wasn't disturbed in the slightest. He concentrated on the sleeping Crowley, and then began to maneouvre him out the door of the suddenly clammy greenhouse.

"Where to?" he asked Ellie, who was following behind. "My name's Roman, by the way. Roman Lupin. I'll take him to where you'd like, Ellie, and then I'll go and fetch the ange- Aziraphale, if that's all right. I'd only like to help."

"Nice to meet you, Roman," Ellie said politely, resting a gentle hand on Crowley's forehead as he whimpered fretfully in his sleep. The wizard's spell hadn't jostled him at all, but many of the Legion had deep-seated phobias involving air travel not under their own power. A really long uncontrolled Fall would do that to you.

"We'll have to stop by the front desk and find out his room number and Aziraphale's," she said softly. "I think most of the guest suites are on the second floor."

She looked up at the werewolf curiously. "It's good of you to help. Do you work here at the Manor?" Under the subtle but distinct signs of lycanthropy, his scent and his aura offered up some interesting possibilities, but it was best not to assume.

"All right," Remus nodded. He fingered his wand as the unlikely trio trudged up and around to the front of the Manor.

"Yes, I work at the Manor. Odd jobs, really whatever a customer needs." He was silent for a moment, and then he twisted around to glance at her. He studied her, for a moment, and then shook his head. "Mr. Wednesday of the front counter runs an escort service, and I am it. Well. In the evenings, mostly. If you ever feel the need for company, for a party maybe - although I don't doubt you have quite the lineup of lovers all waiting to take you anywhere - don't hesitate to call." He offered her a smile. "I'll give you a good discount, too."

Her suspicion confirmed, Ellie just couldn't resist in the face of such an ironic proposition. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she said drily. "You don't by any chance offer a professional rate for colleagues?"

"Colleagues?" Remus was experienced enough to stop his surprise from affecting his wandwork, but the shock was astounding. If he had been drinking anything, he would have sprayed it across the room.

He was so shocked, that Remus stopped walking, blinking at her. "Are you a Muggle too? Or a demon, Ellie? Or something else?"

He shook his head, and started walking again. "Not that it matters. There is a professional rate, but if it's more recreational, I prefer men. One man, anyway, but he..." A shadow passed over Remus' face and he was quiet.

"Well, don't take it personally. I'm very flattered you'd be willing to be professional with me."

Ellie sighed. "Well, let me introduce myself properly. I am Chantinelle, once an Authority of the Third Sphere, former Handmaiden of the Wyrm Queen Triskelle, Succubus of the Second Circle. Or ex-Succubus. Technically, I suppose I'm unemployed at the moment." She smiled. "But I prefer to think I've gone freelance.

"And don't worry, I don't take it personally. I can hardly blame you, being that I prefer men myself." She laughed quietly. "I suspect you're having more luck around here than I have been, though. It's a shame, I never really took to the role of Incubus."

Crowley woke up at that moment and shook his head.

"'m not a Incubus. Jus' reg'lar demon. Not a Incubus at all. Tempt and tempt but never get. Az'phale?"

The he seemed to realize that he wasn't touching the ground and started to flail wildly.

"Down, down, down!" he yelled, panicking and kicking his legs. "Don't wanna fall!"

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