killer queen || crowley [editing]

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 ¹⁰

[ As Hastur opened his mouth to speak, their conversation was interrupted by Crowley's loud phone. ]

Two were the main thoughts lingering in her mind. The first one was how Hastur was less powerful than her, so he couldn't complain about her orders and the second was the way Crowley had touched her so she wouldn't get hurt with the holy water. The thought didn't only linger in her mind, she could remember well how his hand pressed on the left side of her waist to gently push her away a few moments ago. It wasn't much, she felt dumb thinking about it, but her mind left open the slight possibility of it being a little more than just a simple gesture, almost protective in some way. But no. It couldn't be. Crowley would never do that.

"Don't move!" the red haired demon pointed his finger at Hastur, "There's something very important you need to know before you disgrace yourself."

Aziraphale's muffled voice could be heard coming from the voicemail, cut off by Crowley picking up the phone. "I know where the Anti-."

"Yeah, it's not a good time. Got an old friend here." with that, Crowley hung up and turned to Hastur laughing, "Well, you've definitely passed the test. You're ready to start playing with the big boys."

"What? You're mad."

"The Lords of Hell had to make sure you were trustworthy." Crowley, what the fuck are you doing.

He stumbled over his words so Abaddon decided to chime in, make it look more realistic. "Yes," she faked enthusiasm, "right before we gave you command of the legions of the damned in the war ahead."

"So what you said about Crowley being under your order-."

"It was all part of the plan!" the blue haired demon clapped her hands together, looking at her colleague, her eyes almost pleading for help.

"And, Hastur," Crowley dramatically jumped onto his chair as a thunder was heard from outside and he pointed at the demon he was talking to with finger guns, "Duke of Hell, you've come through with flying colors."

"Me?" he looked confused and Abaddon couldn't blame him, she was too.

"Now, I-we wouldn't expect you to believe us, Duke Hastur," the red haired demon took out a phone from his pocket, how much had he planned?, "But why don't we talk to the Dark Council? Let's see if they can convince you."

"Crowley," Abaddon chimed in again with a smile, "can I please talk to you for a moment, in private." the demon she had called for jumped off the chair, "What do you think you're doing?" she scream-whispered once they were in the corridor.

"Look, I have it under control, just follow my lead." he grabbed her forearm and dragged her back to the office while doing something on his phone and putting it up to his ear.

"Are you calling the Dark Council?" Hastur seemed more nervous than excited by now.

"Yes, I am. And they say,"So long, sucker!"" Crowley slid his hand from her arm to her hand, holding it tightly and they both vanished, going into the telephone system.

Vanishing and spinning from time to time, he still held her hand. Laughing, they turned their heads only to see Hastur following them and trying to grab them while cursing them out.

"You, Abaddon and your friend Aziraphale, you're dead meat." he assured the two demons right when Crowley decided to pull her along with him out of the telephone system.

They both lost their balance, tripping over their own feet until Crowley hit one of the walls of his office with his back. Still grasping Abaddon's fist in between his hands, holding it, unconsciously, to his chest, making the girl crash into him while they kept laughing. It was when they stared into each other's eyes as their laughter died down, their faces mere inches apart, that Hastur's voice seemed to boom all over the room.

"Don't leave me here, you snake!" Abaddon took a step backwards as Crowley let go of her hand that fell limp against her side as he went around her to turn off the telephone answering machine.

In a swift motion the red haired demon picked up his phone, putting it in of the pockets of his blazer, and quickly grabbed her wrist, lightly tugging on it, "We need to go, doll."