#'crowley dear can you turn into a woman real quick so god will let me kiss you'

[demonir]

Anyone wanna know the weirdest thing my mom said when watching s2 of good omens?

ok here goes

When aziraphale hit crowley with the "I forgive you" my mom gasped lightly and went "It's because religion forbids him" and I honestly just sat there like ???????????????????????????????????

[justjessame]

Dr. Tali Sullivan Chapter 21

I will never quite understand why Crowley, Rowena, and Castiel took so quickly to me when I regained control over my body.  I will never know why they chose to care so deeply for my comfort, or why they were quick to stand by my side when John and Sam came back first, without Dean, once the sky cleared and we seemed safe from whatever wreckage this being called Amara had planned to create.

John tried to gather me into his arms, but I flinched away and he seemed to realize that something had changed.  Sam’s eyes met mine and I saw a sliver of understanding flash through him.  

“Tali?”  Sam asked, voice quiet as though I were a frightened, corned animal.  “It’s really you?”  

“Of course it’s her,” John growled, looking between us as though someone had lost their mind.  “Tell him you’re fine, sweetheart,” but I could see the uncertainty coming to him.

“You didn’t notice, did you?”  I could barely hear myself, but the pain that rushed through me was powerful enough to make our child come to life and thrash me.  “Sam knew, or had an idea.  Dean probably did too.  These three,” I gestured to my new bodyguards standing around me, “they knew.  But you-” I swallowed against the tears that once again threatened to overwhelm me, “the man who is supposed to be in love with me, you didn’t even question it.”  I shook my head as he started to argue against what I was trying to explain.  “It’s fine.  I’ll be fine.”  I had already packed, while Rowena had tried to convince me to stay.  “I’m going to go visit my parents, Cas tells me that I- she hadn’t wanted to, I want time to say goodbye.”

“Tali, please,” his eyes landed on our child’s current home.  “Think of-”

I nodded, not surprised he’d be focused on another of his offspring.  “I can’t NOT think of her, John.  I woke up with her inside of me and a clock winding down on my time here.”  I started to grab my bag, but Crowley took it for me.  “I’ll-” Another hard swallow, past the lump that seemed to be my new constant companion.  “I’ll let you know when she arrives, and we’ll make arrangements then.”  

He tried, God knows he tried to talk me out of it, but as I was getting into my car (thankful that the demon whore hadn’t gotten rid of it), I saw Dean arrive with his mother beside him and I knew that John would be happily diverted from my absence soon enough.  After all, I had never been equal to Mary Winchester in his eyes.

My parents, who I’d called ahead of time, were as surprised by my condition as I had been.  They were less shocked when they learned about my possession, knowing that with time ticking away there would have to be a good reason that I’d pushed away from them.  Knowing that John hadn’t realized that I wasn’t myself did nothing to endear him to them, and knowing that by some means Mary had returned from the dead didn’t make matters easier.    

Crowley and Rowena had gone with me, and after a moment’s hesitation, my parents had accepted them as my new friends.  Castiel was an easier sell, when he arrived days later, to try to fill us in on Mary, Dean, and the news that I’d left behind.  An attack by a woman came not long after I’d left.  A member of the British Men of Letters, who had taken Sam after holding the angel at bay.  

He’d waited until he had helped the other Winchesters free him, and came to me as soon as he could.  Dean was torn.  Having his mother back was a wish he’d had since she’d died, but losing me, so close to my impending demise wasn’t an easy thing to deal with.  I didn’t ask about John, nor did Cas offer me anything and I knew I’d been right.  Mary, his ONE was back, and so Tali, even Tali with his child ripe to burst out, was nothing in comparison.  

Cas touched my stomach and told me I didn’t have long.  And I felt so much fear and pain that he had to give me a touch of his grace to calm me.  I woke up with this baby, a baby that the man I loved created with my body, but NOT me, and now I would give birth as alone as I’d woke up.  

“You won’t be alone,” Rowena, seeing the thought grip me and rush across my face, promised.  “You won’t be.”

My parents had been watching and listening and promised the same.  That I wouldn’t be alone for a moment from now until I left the earth.  And then Crowley offered his own assurance.

“And I will take your hand, Tali, and together we’ll walk into hell.”  His eyes were warm, something I’d found shocking upon our first meeting.  “I won’t take you as your deal maker promised,” and I felt myself blush at the reminder of the conditions of my deal.  “But you can keep me company.”

“I as well,” Rowena offered, taking my hand.  “You’ll not be alone again, Tali.”  

I had a family, I realized, just not the one I expected.  And not one I would have in entirety for long enough.

Visits with Casiel weren’t as often as visits from Rowena and Crowley.  I was a little surprised by my parents' acceptance of the witch and king of Hell’s presence, but my mom admitted that she wanted to know I’d be taken care of when my debt came due.  And I made her make a promise that she didn’t hesitate to make.  That when I died, when I was gone, she and my dad would raise my daughter.  Without John Winchester’s help for one single moment.  Because if there was one thing I wouldn’t have, it was my child, even a child I had no real part in creating, being raised by Mary Winchester.  A woman who would forever replace me, but not with my own daughter.  

I gave birth, easily thanks to Castiel’s presence, to Abigail Alice Sullivan two weeks after returning to my childhood home.  Rowena was in the room, near my head whispering encouragement and possibly spells to help me through it, as my mom held one hand and my dad held my other.  She was so incredibly tiny, with a crown of dark hair, and my green eyes shining from her wrinkly little face that I wasn’t sure how I could love her so much.

I hadn’t been present during her conception, but she was so very much mine.  And she was proof, that for however little time I’d had John’s love, that I had had it.  She took the milk that my body made for her, but I knew I wouldn’t breast feed her for too long.  She had to get used to formula, since I wouldn’t be alive long enough to wean her properly.  And I wanted her to be content in my parents’ arms.  

I agreed to let Cas tell John and the boys.  Leaving Mary out, even while knowing she’d be present, because my heart wouldn’t take the reminder of her on the day my daughter came into the world.  I warned him that I wouldn’t take calls or visits, that he was to be sure to let them know that.  My final months were mine.  Mine and my family’s to spend in peace.  

I had two months full of learning my daughter’s noises and how her weight felt in my arms.  The way she seemed so inquisitive, how hungry she could be, but also how sweet she smelled.  I could swear I counted her soft hairs, and memorized how long her dark eyelashes were against her fair skin.  And I knew that the days were trickling by, and that my pain would begin when I least expected it.

I took the time, while Abi slept, to write out farewells.  I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to during the last three months to say goodbye or even to put them down on paper, so I wanted to be preemptive.  Giving the task to Rowena to deliver them when I was gone, and forcing her to promise that I wouldn’t be given a hunter’s funeral, I tried, through my words to make peace with everyone I’d leave behind.

I woke up, on the day that my last three months began, feeling as though my entire body was on fire.  And then the real pain began.  As though my bones were breaking over and over.  As if my heart was pounding too fast, and my lungs couldn’t find enough air.  I was incapable of screaming, the pain so great that I couldn’t make a sound, but I prayed.  I prayed for Cas, for Crowley, and for Rowena.  And they came.  All within moments of my first feeling of fire, within seconds of the first feeling of ripping and breaking.  

Cas tried using his grace to lessen the pain, but it seemed to amplify it.  Rowena was forced to take Abi to my parents, forced to ask them not to witness what I was going through, because through her eyes, when I managed to open my own, I saw how wracked with pain I was.  

Crowley looked at a loss for a solution, knowing as I knew that any attempts to hasten my deal would make the promise of torture free Hell obsolete.  We’d talked, before this had happened, about how airtight the demon had made his deal.  And it pained him that his hands were tied in this, my situation.  

And so, they watched.  Trying through any means at their disposal to help me through it.  

The end came far easier than it began.  The flames that seemed to dance through my body started to cool.  The ripping and tearing became bearable.  And I was finally able to speak.

“Abi?”  I felt cool hands on my head and looked into Cas’ face.  “Please?  I want to-”

And then her tiny face was close to mine, and I was kissing her goodbye, even as I felt another hand take mine.  Standing beside Crowley, looking at the body I was leaving behind, surrounded by the rest of my family, I felt a clench of pain, but also a feeling of peace.  

“We have to go, my dear,” he was saying.  “You don’t want to watch them mourn you,” and I knew he was right.  The peace would leave me if I had to see it, my parents and the others saying goodbye to my mortal shell.  And so I turned, letting him distract me from the sobs behind me, and walked willingly into Hell.

[huntertales]

Part Two: You Can Bet on It. (What’s Up, Tiger Mommy?)

Episode Summary: Kevin Tran talks the Winchesters and the reader in checking on his mother. When they arrive and discover Crowley has surrounded her with demons, they rescue her and take her along their quest to find the demon tablet. However, they soon discover Mrs. Tran is a mother not to be tested after she tries to go up against the king of hell herself. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 4,097.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

It wasn't too hard to find the location of the pawn shop Dean threatened out of Clem to find out where he sold off the tablet he wrongfully stole, along with whatever else he managed to grab from those lockers. The shop was nestled into a row of others in town not too far from where the bus station was located. Dean parked the Impala against the sidewalk and right behind a fancy looking sports car that was probably worth way more than the house you hadn’t been to in years now that you thought about it. Personally, you were more of a fan to older model cars, but you had to admit the cherry red Ferrari was a sight to see. Especially in a small town like this one in Wyoming when one would expect to see them more in the Hollywood hills.

You let out a low whistle in appreciation at the model as Kevin found himself pulled into a trance at the sight of the car. He took a few steps forward to take a closer inspection out of it, Mrs. Tran called out to her son, pulling him back into reality as she nodded her head to the pawn shop. A car like this was like a beautiful woman; you could look all you want, but if you dare so touch it, there would be consequences. All of you headed into the pawn shop to see a man behind the counter. He was playing on his phone with his feet up on the counter, obviously hard at work.

“Hello, sir. Agents Neil, Sixx and Hill. FBI.” Sam introduced the three of you as he pulled out his fake badge to show the kid behind the counter. “We’re looking for a tablet.”

"About, uh, yea big," Dean gestured with his hands the rough size of the tablet to give the kid some idea of what all of you were looking for. "Got some hieroglyphic crap on it."

“Sold to you by a thief named Clem.” Sam added. “Ring a bell?”

The kid shrugged his shoulders and answered, “Nope.”

You rolled your eyes from his nonchalant behavior and how quick he was to answer you. It was obvious he didn’t want to think too much about giving all of you some information, thinking he could attempt and cover his ass. But Dean wasn’t in the mood. “Hey, Lyle, I’m had a really, really bad day today, so I’m not in the mood to dilly dally.” Dean said. He leaned forward and pressed his hand against the glass to appear somewhat threatening. “If you want to do this the rough way, I am happy to oblige.”

“Sure. We can do it that way, if you want to get famous.” The kid said. You furrowed your brow from what he meant. When he looked over his shoulder and nodded his head to the two security cameras around the store, you knew exactly what he was trying to do.

“That your car outside?” Mrs. Tran spoke up, asking the kid a simple question.

“What’s it to you, mail-order?” The kid’s response made your blood boil in anger.

"Hey, scumbag!" You slapped your palm against the glass counter, directing his attention over to you. "A few security cameras don't scare me. I'll break right them right after I break your jaw and arms. I mean, it would be kinda hard to tell the cops a girl beat your sexist and racist ass with your mouth wired shut.”

"I got it." Mrs. Tran said, stopping you from fulfilling your promise. She walked up to the counter, showing you and the boys that not every situation required threats to get what you wanted. Sometimes brains won in this kind of situation. "I noticed you're driving with expired tags, maybe because you just acquired it in a trade, and I'm guessing that means you haven't registered it yet, which means you haven't paid the tax. Is that correct?"

The kid kicked his feet off the table and pushed himself up to a standing position. You noticed he seemed surprised at what she said, even a little bit afraid  about how spot on she was. “None of your business.”

"Kevin," Mrs. Tran looked over her shoulder and asked her son a question. "Average blue book on a 2010 Ferrari F430 Spider?"

"Two hundred and seventeen thousand dollars." Kevin answered.

“And the five percent Wyoming tax?” She asked.

"Ten thousand and eight hundred fifty." Sam somehow made the calculation in his hand in the matter of seconds, answering the woman before her son could. You found yourself wincing at the intimidating amount of numbers flying around here, making you feel sorry for the reality the poor sucker was about to face if any of this spilled to the real FBI.

“Ten thousand dollars. Something tells me you’re the type of person who might balk at a tax bill that big.” Mrs. Tran said, the ends of her lips curling into a smirk.

“W-What is this,” The kid asked. “An FBI audit?”

“No. But my brother, who happens to work for the Wyoming tax assessor's office could arrange that if he thought something untoward was happening here.” Mrs. Tran said. She continued on speaking, not missing a beat to drag out the information from the kid from the question she asked him. “So what’s it going to be—the tablet or that piece of euro trash crap you call a car?”

You crossed your arms over your chest when the kid fell awfully silent. You raised your brow as he contemplated the choices he had that you given him, and what he could do to get out of them for the spite of it. But you could tell from the look on his face that he knew he was cornered with no way out.

“You heard the woman.” You said. “Cough up the location, punk.”

The kid unwillingly did so to save his ass from paying a fine you knew he couldn’t pay. You left the pawn shop with a friendly smile after you snatched the receipt out of his hands. Maybe having Mrs. Tran around wouldn't be so bad, after all. She didn't cower at the sight of that kid being a jerk to her, and she sure was smart enough to think quick on her toes. Not to mention, she saved you and the boys from getting yourselves in trouble from doing things the illegal way. All of you piled back into the Impala and headed to the location written on the receipt. You were getting a little bit more hopeful with the idea that you were getting closer to the tablet. And one step closer to closing the gates of hell forever.

+ + +

Motel room number one-twenty six. You stood on the parking lot with your arms crossed over your chest as you waited while Sam knocked on the front door of the room where the tablet was supposed to be located. You looked around the place to see it was fairly quiet for the afternoon, there was nobody around except for the five of you. Sam waited for a moment to see if he could hear any movement in the room as your attention lingered over to the window to see if you could spot a pair of eyes peeking out the curtain to see who was disturbing them. But all remained still and silent.

“Sure this is the right place?” Sam asked, seeming a bit skeptical at location the kid gave you.

“It’s what the pawn slip says.” You told him.

Sam still wasn't too sure about that being true, so he decided to see for himself what was inside the motel room. He slipped his hand inside his pocket to pull out his lock pick to grant all of you access inside. However before he could even get it out of his jacket pocket, you heard an unfamiliar voice speak from behind, grabbing your attention. "Kevin?"

You turned around in your spot to see an older gentleman wearing an ensemble that looked a little out of place for this kind of scenery. You narrowed your eyes on him when you noticed his pinstripe gray suit was paired with a matching colored top hat and wooden cane he used to talk with. You dropped your arms to your hips, placing them where you kept the demon knife tucked away, just in case if you might need it use it on him. The boys seemed just as cautious at the sight of a stranger showing up out of nowhere.

“Who wants to know?” Dean asked, stepping down from the sidewalk and to the parking lot.

“Oh, relax, Dean. I’m not going to steal your prophet.” The stranger reassured the man. But you had your doubts on that. He turned his attention away from the older Winchester and the woman standing next to Kevin. The man’s lips stretched into a smile at the sight of her. “Ah. And you must be Kevin’s mother. Beau. And it is my absolute pleasure.”

"God," You rolled your eyes in annoyance when you saw Beau introduced himself to Mrs. Tran in the most over the top way possible. He reached out to lift up her hand to give the top of her hand a light kiss. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"And Kevin, imagine my luck. Here I was, working so hard to look for you that I never stopped to think you might be looking for me."  Beau said. You narrowed your eyes when you saw him slip a hand inside his suit pocket, making you fear for the worst. You found yourself reaching for the demon knife out of habit. You asked him what it was. He pulled out what appeared to be a crisp white invitation with the prophet’s name written on it. “An invitation, dear lady, to an exclusive auction.”

“Let me guess,” Dean said. “Where you’ll be selling the tablet?”

“Well, when we acquire an item as hot as the word of God, it’s smart to unload it as fast a possible.” Beau explained himself to you and the boys’ judging glares “And we are in such desperate need of a headliner for tonight’s gala.”

“Well, I hope you have four extra tickets to your little eBay party, ‘cause the prophet’s with us.” Dean said, stopping the stranger from taking Kevin anywhere.

“Oh if you’re worried about the safety of your prophet, rest assured we have a strict ‘no casting, no cursing, no supernaturally flicking the three of you against the wall for the fun of it.’ policy” Beau reassured you and the boys.

“Is that right?” Sam asked. “How’d you manage that?”

"Well, I am the right hand of a God, after all—Plutus, specifically." Beau said, his lips stretching into a smirk as he bragged about his title to the five of you humans.

“Is that even a planet anymore?” Dean let out a scoff, thinking it was something much different from the sound of a name.

“It’s the god of greed.” Beau corrected the man. It seemed from the expression on his face he wasn’t the least bit amused. “And my liege has warned these premises against hell, heaven and beyond—quite necessary with some of the players we see. And incidentally, quite possibly the safest place your precious prophet could be. Mm. Well, since time is of the essence, perhaps I’ll just go ahead and add a plus-four to the prophet’s invitation. Copacetic?”

Beau flung the invitation straight into the air, letting his trick distract all of you long enough for him to vanish into sight before the envelope fell to the ground. You quickly looked up when you noticed that he was gone. He was a smooth talker, you'd give him that. "Well, thank you, Mr. Peanut!" Dean yelled out in frustration. You dropped your hands to your side and let out a sigh. "All right. What do we have to bid?"

"Let me brush off the other word of God I've got in the trunk." You said, pointing a finger over your shoulder. "Along with the other precious artifacts we don’t have.”

“We can’t just show up there empty-handed.” Dean said, his tone of voice showing you he wasn’t in the mood for your sarcasm right now.

“Dean, all we have to our names ia few hacked gold cards.” Sam said, bursting his brother’s idea of trying to go up against a few heavy hitters that were bound to have some items that were well worth the trade for the tablet.

“All right. Well, then, we’re gonna have to get creative.” Dean suggested. You thought to yourself for a moment about what could possibly be worth bidding. You thought about possibly bidding off the demon knife, as it was a one of a kind piece. However Sam had a suggestion for an item that was meaningful to all of you. The very thing that had been through a lot of things in her decades of existence. You noticed that he was staring at the Impala, prompting you to realize that he was about to suggest about auctioning the car. Dean promptly shook his head as he went straight over to Baby, defending her. “Nope. Mnh-mnh. Say it and I will kill you, your children and your grandchildren.”

"Okay, okay. Before you two idiots murder each other, I got an idea. Don't these auctions display the items to the bidders beforehand, right?" You wondered, Dean nodded his head. "So all we got to do is get Kevin close enough to memorize the spell."

“What do you think, Brainiac?” Dean asked the kid. “Think you can swing it?”

“Of course he can swing it.” Mrs. Tran said with confidence. “If the bumper stickers on my previa mean anything.”

The plan was worth a shot to try, as it was really the only one you had anymore at this point. Dean turned his attention over to the Impala as he rubbed his hand across the hood, as if he was trying to comfort the emotions of an inanimate object. "They didn't mean it, Baby."

"You know, sometimes I wonder if you love that car more than me." You said. Dean looked over at you to see that you were standing right next to him with an arched brow, waiting for him to say that you were being crazy. However Dean remained silent for a moment, prompting you to let out a sigh. "You know what—Don't answer that. Let's just go."

+ + +

You weren't sure what you were expecting the location of the supernatural bidding of the tablet would be held. Maybe something fancy, maybe even a decent space where you didn’t have to worry about what was crawling around the place or what kind of mold was growing between the cracks of the stones. Of course it had to be just that, downtown in an abandoned warehouse from the looks of it. Nothing could ever be nice and clean. You stepped into the warehouse after a man dressed in a black suit opened up the door for you.

It was then you discovered the metal detector all of you needed to step through in order to be granted access to the auction. You knew if you wanted to be apart of this you needed to come here without a single weapon on you. Not that you were exactly pleased with the idea. You were a little more concerned about setting it off with the metal pieces in your body. You still had the faint scar from the surgery you had to put your arm back together. All though Cas put you back together into one piece, you weren't sure if he got out everything. There was one way to find out. You stepped through the metal detector after Sam, waiting to hear the thing go off. But when you stepped out the other side, it beeped once, making you let out a sigh of relief.

Dean wasn’t lucky as you were. When the older Winchester stepped into the detector, he went with a slow and cautious step, as if doing so would help his case. But as he stepped out to the other side, the alarm went off, making you and the others realize he made the dumb decision of coming here with some extra accessories that weren't allowed. You let out a sigh of frustration as you shot him annoyed glare. Dean smiled slightly as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Now, now, Dean.” Beau stepped forward to greet the older Winchester and remind him of the rules that applied to all of you as well. “The system only works when everyone participates.”

Dean wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of playing along with the rules of this place. Being stuck in a place crawling with monsters and no weapon to defend himself felt wrong. But if he wanted to stick around, he would have to give everything up. He unwillingly placed his pistol into the bin with other confiscated weapons and took out the demon knife from his jacket pocket. He held it for a moment, knowing out of all of the weapons you owned, this was the most powerful one. The guard grew impatient and reached out a hand to grab it from the man. Dean drew it back to give the man a warning that it was his, and his to keep.

“I’ll be back for this.” Dean told the man. And with those words, he set the knife into the bin with the rest of the weapons where it would remain until the end of the auction.

All of you headed into the auction now that you were cleared to do so. You looked around the place to see it was filled with all sorts of artifacts and items from mythology. People of all kinds gawked at the items at what soon would be up for grabs. You scanned the people with a bit of curiosity, wondering what kind of creatures you were surrounded with. Most of the time you were trying to kill them, it was sort of a nicer pace to be able to be in a place where they were fighting against each other for whatever item they were willing to get their greedy hands on. All you knew was that the tablet was yours. No matter how much it cost, you needed to get it back.

“How the hell are we supposed to know who’s who?” Dean quietly asked, looking around the room himself to see all sorts of people that appeared to be harmless. But there was more than meets the eye with these kind of folks.

“It’s pretty simple, Dean.” You said. “They’re all monsters.”

You focused less on the people you were surrounded with and now trying to find the tablet. You walked around the place and mindlessly spotted all sorts of different objects you would have loved to examine if the situation was different. Now you were focused on trying to find the tablet before time ran out. Dean was the one who spotted it. You saw the tablet in a glass display for anyone to see. However someone was one step ahead of you. You could feel your fist clench in anger when you noticed a black piece of board was covering each side of the tablet, making it near impossible for Kevin to read. There went your brilliant plan.

“I guess we’re not as original as we thought.” Kevin muttered in a defeated tone.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Sam said. “We just got to come up with a plan ‘b.’”

“And what, pray tell, could possibly have been plan ‘a’?” As if you thought this moment couldn’t have possibly gotten any worse, it could have. You flinched at the familiar accent ring into your ears and right behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see it was the king of hell himself, Crowley. Your lips stretched into a frown at the sight of him alone. “Bring the prophet to the most dangerous place on earth, memorize the tablet and then va-moose?”

"Crowley." You greeted the demon, speaking his name as if it was poison on your tongue. "Look what the cat dragged in."

The demon barely made an effort to acknowledge your presence before turning his attention over to the person he most wanted to see. "Kevin. What a pleasure to see you. Sorry about your little playdate. Her name...Well, if you're gonna make an omelet, sometimes you have to break some spines." Crowley said, excusing his previous behavior with a shrug of the shoulder. You scoffed at how easy it was for someone like him to wash the blood off his hands after killing an innocent person. But you didn't expect much out of something like him. Crowley turned his attention to Mrs. Tran, as she was a face he had never got to formally meet before. "And who is this lovely young thing? Must be your sister."

Mrs. Tran might have been a tiny woman for her height, but she sure knew how to pack a punch. You didn't realize what she had done until you saw Crowley's head turn into an unpleasant angle and he let out what sounded to be a bit of a groan. Your lips stretched into a smirk when you saw him tend to his bloody lip the woman had given the king of hell. "Stay away from my son." She warned him.

“Charming. Defiling he corpse has just made number one of my to-do list.” Crowley said. You narrowed your eyes on the demon at his subtle threat while Dean took a step forward, wanting nothing more than to give Crowley more than just a punch. But before he could do such a thing, his brother held him back. “Don’t mind a little love tap, but anything more, and our mookie pals here might just throw you out, and that would be a shame.”

"He's right, Dean." Sam unwillingly agreed with the demon. "It's not worth it."

“Listen to Moose, Squirrel.” Crowley said. You rolled your eyes from his remark alone as your attention was pulled away from him and to the front door when you heard it open and close. You noticed an older looking man wearing what seemed to be a white tracksuit passed you by. “Ah. Here comes our host.”

“That’s Plutus?” Dean asked, watching the man pass by all of you to take his spot at the front of the room. “What is he, God of the candy aisle?”

You had to admit he wasn’t what you were expecting to be when you heard he was the god of greed. You were thinking he’d be a little bit more flashy in flaunting his wealth and greed. Guess you were wrong on that one. Beau followed behind the man. “Gentlemen,” He reminded the five of you. “The auction is starting.”

“Good luck with the bidding.” Crowley said.

You forced yourself to give him a sarcastic smile before turning on your heels to walk over to the auction before things got started. When you saw the demon was far enough away from you, you looked over at Mrs. Tran and gave her a genuine smile at what she managed to do.

“Nice right hook.” You whispered.

Mrs. Tran seemed proud of herself at the compliment you gave her. The both of you headed off with Sam and Kevin to find a spot for all of you to take. You managed to find an empty row of chairs for all of you to take. However you noticed that Dean wasn't anywhere near all of you. You leaned over slightly while you stood over the chair you claimed as your own next to Sam, wondering where his brother was. You looked through the thinning crowd of people and spotted him talking to some kid wearing a red and white striped uniform. You furrowed your brow slightly at who he was talking to, wondering who it was.

The conversation seemed to drift to an end a moment later. You watched as the kid walked over to where the rest of the crowd to take a seat in the very back, but Dean remained where he was. You let out a sigh when you saw him lose himself into focusing on a spot in the room. The same look you had seen before in the interrogation room fell over his face, making you wonder if he was thinking about purgatory again.

[Next Part]

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[iris-writes-things]

Two Guys and a Baby: Day 14

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Crowley smiled and gently squeezed her hand. “Well, credit where it’s due, your son played a significant part in me having that revelation. Might’ve gotten a bit too attached.” “He does have that effect on people, yes,” Lucy said somewhat proudly, before pausing. She took a deep breath. “You know, I formally fired Adam’s old babysitter.” “And you were right to,” Crowley added. “Do you want to be Adam’s new babysitter?”

Or, new Arrangements abound.

Chapter 19 of 20 Completed 2490 words Romance/Humor

“Remind me again why you wanted me to pick up your boss from the airport with you,” Ezra said through gritted teeth in an attempt to have a casual conversation as Anthony sped through the streets of London in Lucy’s black Toyota Aygo. His knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the door’s handle, desperately clinging to it. Adam was giggling in the back seat. “I mean, we’ve only ‘been an item’ formally for a few days. Isn’t that, you know, weird? I’m quite sure miss Ferguson doesn’t even know I exist.”

“Eeeeh…” Anthony said as he turned sharply onto the ramp to the M25. With Anthony, ‘Eeeeh…’ was a surprisingly versatile exclamation. It could be anything from denial to overwhelming joy. But in this case, it sounded more like an admission of guilt. 

“She knows I exist, doesn’t she?”

“Look at it like this,” Anthony mumbled. Ezra could feel the anxiety in his voice. “Isn’t it weird that I lost Lucy’s instructions only hours after I got Adam? I mean, if I hadn’t had you, I don’t know what I would have done with him,” he said, gesturing at the little boy strapped tightly into the baby seat. “I don’t think it’s weird at all for her to meet the person who’s helped me take care of him all this time. And, you know, Stansted airport is like an hour long drive and I haven’t properly driven a car in a decade. Not one with manual transmission, anyway.”

“You don’t say...”

“I just… like your company and having an extra pair of eyes is never a bad idea.”

“Anything for you, my dear,” Ezra said, faking a smile and ignoring the twist that formed in his stomach as Anthony exited the M25 with the same ferocious speed with which he entered it. 

*

"There's my baby!" Lucy cried as she entered the arrivals hall. She left her suitcase and her wife in the dust as she sprinted towards Adam, Crowley and Ezra, caramel curls cascading down her back and her black maxi dress billowing behind her. Belle laughed, taking Lucy's suitcase in her free hand, following her wife at a leisurely stroll.

"Thanks, I've been moisturising," Crowley joked.

"Shut up, Anton." Lucy bent down and picked up Adam from his stroller to shower his little face with kisses.

Belle smiled apologetically as she caught up with her wife. "Sorry about that. She was just so anxious to see Adam again, by the time we got into the cab in Zagreb, nothing could get in her way."

Crowley waved his hand dismissively. "No hard feelings."

The woman extended her hand to him. "I'm Belle, by the way. You must be Mr. Crowley." Belle had olive skin and a dark, wild mane, covered partly by a tan fedora* and the way she carried herself was so laidback, it would give a sloth a run for its money.

(*An actual fedora, mind you. Not those cheap things that get passed off as the real deal, nowadays.)

Lucy had mentioned she was a model and Crowley remembered having seen her pictures in magazines, but they couldn’t begin to compare to meeting the woman in person. Crowley was lucky to be exclusively attracted to men, or things might have gotten awkward.

"I am," Crowley said, taking her hand and shaking it. "Pleased to meet you."

"The feeling's mutual." Belle turned to Ezra, holding out her hand to him as well. "And you are? Lucy never mentioned a husband."

Ezra grew red at the ears, but never lost his composure. He accepted her hand and shook it as well. "Boyfriend, actually,” he mumbled nervously, scratching behind his ear. “I just helped Anthony take care of dear Adam and we kind of went from there. You see, he lost his instructions in a duck pond and--"

"He what?!" Lucy cried.

Belle only grinned. "You gotta tell us everything."

*

And so, he did.

As if Lucy's passenger seat driving wasn't bad enough, Ezra was recounting the last eight years of his and Crowley's relationship as well as everything that happened between the three of them to Belle in embarrassing detail. Now and again, Crowley could manage to get a word in, in order to slightly salvage what was left of his reputation.

*

It was around 4 o'clock in the afternoon - on Fridays, that meant the office buildings and their adjacent car parks in London were about to be vacated by their tired workers - when Crowley and Lucy had left Ezra, Adam and Belle in Belle and Lucy’s Westminster apartment and ventured into the parking garage. They were going to pick up Adam’s bag and his camping cot. There wouldn’t be room for any other passengers.

It was just the two of them now. Childhood friends. Head of Marketing and assistant. Employer and employee. Crowley took a deep breath and said “Lucy, there’s something I need to tell you.” 

“I think I know what you’re going to say,” Lucy answered. “But tell me, anyway.” 

Crowley took a deep breath. Of course, someone at the office had notified her about his resignation. It would be foolish to think otherwise.

“I turned in my resignation last Monday,” Crowley mumbled. “Not because of you, mind, you’re the best boss I’ve ever had. It’s just… everything around it. The work wasn’t fulfilling anymore and I was so, so done with Hastings and Liggett’s constant harassment.”

“I can only imagine.” A glint in Lucy’s eyes said she would be Having Words with people next Monday. “Quite honestly, I’m glad you made that decision.”

Crowley frowned. “What? Why?”

“I’m not blind, Anton,” Lucy said as she carefully took hold of his hand. “I could see that the job wasn’t right for you anymore. Who knows, maybe it never was… I know you came from the arts and that you can’t fully give yourself creatively as a marketing assistant. So yeah, I was hoping you’d have that revelation.”

Crowley smiled and gently squeezed her hand. “Well, credit where it’s due, your son played a significant part in that. Might’ve gotten a bit too attached.”

“He does have that effect on people, yes,” Lucy said somewhat proudly, before pausing. She took a deep breath. “You know, I formally fired Adam’s old babysitter.” 

“And you were right to,” Crowley added.

“Do you want to be Adam’s new babysitter?”

“I… What?”

“Belle and I discussed it when we heard about your resignation, and we both want Adam to have a positive male role model in his life. Someone creative, and accepting, and without too much toxic masculinity, because God knows he’ll learn that at school, and well, both you and your boyfriend fit the bill.” 

Crowley laughed and waved his hand, interrupting Lucy’s rant. “We’ll do it. It’d be our pleasure.”

“But Anton, I won’t be able to pay you what head office paid you. Not even close. I want you to really think about this before you make any rash decisions.”

“Lucy, listen,” Crowley said, laying his hands on Lucy’s shoulders. “I knew I was going to have to down-size when I quit my job. I’ve made ends meet with very little, so if I can get by doing something I love, like my art and looking after Adam, I’m happy.” The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile. “My mind is made up.”

Powerful arms wrapped around Crowley’s chest as Lucy crashed into him. As she squeezed, his spine popped in two places. “Anton, you’re the best!”

“So,” Crowley wheezed, “going to my place to pick up Adam’s stuff during rush hour would be a massive waste of time?”

“It would,” Lucy agreed, letting go of Crowley. “Shall we go and give Belle and Ezra the good news?”

Crowley grinned and turned on the heel of his snakeskin boot. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

*

Crowley and Lucy came back to sounds of laughter coming from Belle and Lucy’s flat. They exchanged a quick, questioning glance before Lucy opened the front door to peek in.

“Honey, you’ll never believe it!” Belle all but shouted at Lucy. Crowley looked around for Ezra, only to find him with a pen and a copy of his latest book in hand, blushing to the tips of his ears. Adam was on the floor, playing with his blocks. “Mr. Fell is the guy who wrote my favorite book! He’s even signing it for me, isn’t that amazing?”

Ezra smiled and looked up from the book. “My, you’re back quickly. What happened, dear?”

“Lucy and I decided picking up Adam’s stuff would be a waste of time,” Crowley said as he walked up to Ezra, scratching behind his ear. “Seeing as I’m going to be looking after him during office hours, starting Monday.” He nervously glanced at Ezra, who was beaming at him.

“Oh, but Anthony, that’s wonderful!” Ezra said, handing the book and pen back to Belle before hugging Crowley. 

Crowley firmly returned his embrace. “How about you? Getting used to the feeling of signing books?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, dear,” Ezra mumbled, pulling back. “It’s just so… so nice to get recognition for all of the hard work I put into this.” He gazed at the book lovingly. Crowley wasn’t jealous at all.

Ezra closed the book and handed it back to Belle, giving it a last loving pat before stepping back. “Thank you, dear madam. I suppose I needed this,” he said, smiling brightly.

“No, Ez, thank you. And thanks for helping Anthony take care of Adam. You’re about to do a lot more of it,” Belle said, bending down to hug him. Ezra laughed heartily and patted her back before pulling back.

“Well, until then we’ll leave you to catch up with your darling boy.”

“Speaking of which, when do you want me to pick up Adam?” Crowley asked, leaning towards Lucy.

Lucy leaned back towards Crowley. “Monday morning at ten? I have to be at the office at nine, but Belle has a brunch meeting at eleven.” 

“I can do ten. I’ll be there. I mean, here.” Crowley patted her shoulder and walked up to Ezra. “Come on, angel, let’s leave these ladies with their son. You’ve got a chocolate mousse to make at my sister’s place and I can’t wait to see it.” He linked his arm with Ezra’s.

“We’ll see you soon then,” Ezra said, waving at Belle with his free hand.

“You boys have fun tonight,” Lucy said as she saw them out.

“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Belle called from the living room.

*

The sun was starting to set by the time Anthony opened the front door of his sister’s house. They had been well on their way to Brixton when Anthony had come to the realization that he left the ingredients for dessert in his fridge, resulting in a mad dash to Mayfair and a small detour to Soho, to pick up a bottle of wine from Ezra’s personal collection as a peace offering for their tardiness.

“Tony, is that you?” a woman that sounded about Ezra’s age, Anthony’s sister, he guessed, called from inside the house.

Anthony quietly slunk to the end of the hallway and peered through the crack of the door to the living room. He gestured for Ezra to come over and take a look as well.

Ezra followed in Anthony’s footsteps and took a peek as well. His niece, Anathema, was laying out the table. Four plates, no high chair. This was for real.

“Tony?” Angela called again from what Ezra could only presume was the kitchen.

Anthony gestured to Ezra to be quiet and hold the bag of ingredients, which he did. He watched on as Anthony quietly opened the hallway door and crept up to Anathema from behind. As soon as she put down the final wine glass on the table, he hugged the girl around her waist and lifted her off the ground. “There’s my little witch!”

Anathema burst in giggles and kicked her legs. “Hi uncle Tony!” she squawked as Anthony carefully returned her feet to the ground.

Angela leaned against the door post to the kitchen. “I will never not be surprised that you’re still able to lift her like that. Look at you, you’re literally a toothpick.”

Anthony smiled and walked up to his sister. He hugged her and kissed her cheek, smiling his dazzling smile. 

“Don’t you have someone to introduce to us, mr. Good Old-fashioned Loverboy?” Angela asked, patting his cheek, the same devious smirk Anthony wore so often gracing her features.

Ezra forgot for a hot second that she was talking about him. “Er, I… hello. I’m Ezra Fell,” he heard himself stammer. “I’m… er… Anthony’s boyfriend?”

A slender pair of arms wrapped around his waist and a head full of frizzy hair pressed into his chest. “You did good for yourself, bookshop man. He’s a real catch,” Anathema said.

“I know,” Ezra whispered, petting her head. “I plan to hold on to him for as long as I can. If you’ll have me, at least.”

Another pair of arms wrapped around his and Anathema’s shoulders. “Trust me, Ezra,” Angela cut in. “We plan to hold on to you for as long as we can as well.”

Anthony finally joined the group hug. “What they’re trying to say, is ‘welcome to the family’.”

“I don’t know what to say, but thank you,” Ezra sniffled, barely fighting back tears. Wait. That wasn’t right. He sniffed the air again. “Er, I’d hate to intrude, but…”

Anthony caught on and sniffed as well, letting go of the embracing cluster. “Angie, it smells like your roast is toast.”

Angela pulled out of the embrace as well. “Shit!” She ran into the kitchen and must have opened the oven - if the waft of smoke that left the kitchen was anything to go by - before immediately opening the kitchen window as well. “Yeah, no, this is unsalvageable,” they heard her mutter to herself. “Annie?” she called to her daughter.

Anathema pulled away from Ezra as well. “Sorry uncle Ez, sounds like someone’s gotta call the kebab place.” She patted Ezra’s shoulder and walked away in search of a telephone and a takeout menu.

“We’re hectic.”

Ezra’s gaze snapped upwards at Anthony. He was beaming down at him.

“We’re messy and sometimes we’re a downright disaster,” Anthony continued as he took Ezra’s hands in his own. “But we’re a family. And we may not be anything like your family, but the girls love you and they’re happy to have you.”

“How about you?”

“Huh?”

“‘The girls love you and they’re happy to have you’?”

Anthony barked a laugh and draped his arms around Ezra’s shoulders. “Of course I love you, you silly angel.”

Ezra smiled, wound his fingers into the collar of Anthony’s shirt and pulled the man down to his level to kiss him. “I love you too, silly Anthony.”