Outside Omens

John hauled himself up somewhat reluctantly and walked over to look through the cabinet's contents, snorting softly at what he found. "Christ, Zee. This much Disney shouldn't be allowed in an adult's house," he called. "...oh, all right, here we go. Got some Steven King here, The Craft--hate that movie, they got just enough right to get some fuckwit kid in real trouble...bunch of chick flicks..."

He laughed suddenly, pulling a case out and turning to flash the cover at Crowley. The Prophecy. "Heh. You ever seen this one?"

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John got an eyebrow raise for his trouble. "You want me to watch a movie called The Prophecy? Oh. I didn't tell you about that, did I...?" Crowley made a face and glanced quickly back at the kitchen. "Part of the whole to-do with Adam," he added in a cautious undertone, unsure as to what Zatanna did or should know. "Crazy bitch, book, it's another long story." He changed the subject. "So what's this about?"

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"Oh, it's pure and total bollocks, something about a modern-day war in Heaven and some girl who's supposed to be the key to ending it. Stuff that could only be written by someone who knows sod all about it. It's the casting that makes the film, though." John grinned and turned the case over, reading from the back. "Christopher Walken as Gabriel--you know, if Gabriel was a psychotic mobster who liked to perch on top of buildings like a gargoyle--and Viggo Mortensen as Him Below..."

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Crowley threw his head back and laughed - laughed like he hadn't in a long time. "Viggo (http://sagralisse.mediawood.net/viggo/prophecy.php?img=_37#gallery)?" he gasped, waving a hand to indicate that John should put it on. "Walken (http://www.ojai.net/swanson/images/shoutprophecy.JPG)?!"

He sank onto the comfortable couch, still chuckling. This he had to see.

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John popped the cd in the player and plopped down on the other end of the couch, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. This was without a doubt going to be the weirdest afternoon of vegging out to a superbly bad movie ever, and that was just fine with him.

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Zatanna came into the room carrying a large bowl of popcorn. "What are you two snickering about?" she asked, smiling, and blinked when she saw the opening credits come up on the screen.

"Okay. You guys? Are just strange," she laughed. "And believe me, I know from strange." She pulled the drapes and sat down between them, tucking her feet up comfortably underneath her. And if it just so happened that this put her at an angle where a slight shift would put her snug up against John, well, nobody could prove anything.

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As much as he was sniggering at the events unfolding on screen - as it turned out Viggo's Lucifer wasn't so far off in terms of behaviour, which was a little disturbing, but, dear Adam on Earth somewhere, what were they thinking with Gabriel? - Crowley was also amused by the antics on the couch. He hadn't missed Zatanna's positioning of herself, nor had he missed her deliberate act with the popcorn. She'd put the bowl between herself and Crowley, not only making it easy for them both to snack, but it put a little space between them and required John to reach across her lap if he wanted any. The demon liked the way she thought. The movie was funny, too.

After a while, though, the plot got too ridiculous for words. It seemed that Gabriel, upset with God for paying so much attention to humanity, decided to start a second war in Heaven. But the war wasn't going well and he needed a good general to help him. Of all the people he could have chosen, he fixed on one particularly vicious Korean war vet because of some ill-defined prophecy. But Simon, who was somehow an angel rather than a human apostle, hid the war vet's soul inside a living native American girl named Mary. What an original name. And how kind of the 'good angel' to put a child in danger. Why not put the soul in someone like Schwarzenegger who could, oh, defend himself? But as Gabriel got closer to finding her, an ex-seminary-student-turned-cop and a school teacher teamed together to protect her. And Crowley couldn't stand it anymore.

"What the fuck?" he finally said, trying to follow it all. "Who thought this made sense?"

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"Got me," John said, finally giving up and putting his arm along the back of the couch behind Zatanna so it wouldn't fall asleep from being squished between them. They'd spent countless hours sitting exactly like this, watching TV back in the old days, and it brought to mind some other vivid, un-fiend-touched memories that were simultaneously enticing and annoying as all hell. He'd thought them safely filed away where they wouldn't pop up and become a nuisance. Bloody woman, she hadn't come on this strong in years. "Maybe it's supposed to be like The Wall, only makes sense if you watch it stoned?"

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"It does seem to be lacking a certain something," Zatanna agreed, grabbing the opportunity to scoot in a little closer. "Like...a coherent plot? Yeah, plot would be good. And I take it they took a few liberties with the characterization?"

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Crowley snorted. "A few liberties? Gabriel is banging the Crown of Seductions and he's still Heaven's biggest fanboy. You couldn't find an angel less likely to rebel. You also couldn't have found an actor who looks less like him." The demon waved a hand and changed Walken's appearance. He grew significantly younger and considerably more attractive. "He actually looks like this (http://static.flickr.com/116/302941745_89a00a961f_o.jpg)."

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John considered the youthful, ethereally beautiful Gabriel on the screen speaking Christopher Walken's deranged lines with his melodious voice, and said decisively, "Now that is just fucking disturbing."

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Zatanna just stared, completely losing track of the dialogue for a minute. "Wow. Pretty smokin' for a celestial messenger boy." She paused a minute, and smiled an odd, distracted little smile. "That Crown of Seductions must be quite the hottie, too, huh?"

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Just for laughs, Crowley changed Simon to look like Belial (http://img230.echo.cx/img230/7804/1davidsmith7jz.th.jpg). He was going to change the cop instead, but that scene of him being handled by Lucifer was too disturbingly close to reality to contemplate.

"He's a bloody fantastic snog, too," he grinned.

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Zatanna's jaw dropped, and she looked from the figure on screen to Crowley and back again, eyes wide at the implication and the imagery it evoked. "...oh."

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John suddenly developed an inexplicable fascination with the living room ceiling, rubbing distractedly at his face. "Well, yeah," he said, the words slightly muffled as though he was halfway trying to stop them from coming out, "he is. Kind of surprised you remember, though."

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The demon laughed. "Oh, ta, mate. The first time is a little fuzzy, but I remember the other (http://community.livejournal.com/neutral_omens/38559.html#cutid1) occasions (http://community.livejournal.com/neutral_omens/42594.html#cutid1) quite vividly."

It took a second or two before the other shoe dropped and Crowley's expression mirrored Zatanna's. "You too?" he asked in a choking voice. It wasn't clear whether he was suppressing horror or laughter.

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John somehow managed to look embarrassed and smug at the same time, pointedly not looking at Zatanna. This whole conversation was no doubt going to come back to haunt him after Crowley left for the evening. "I never did get around to telling you about Michael's laptop, did I? Remember the mildew problem they were having in the lobby from the sprinkler malfunction a while back?...Let's just say Belial devised a unique strategy for throwing a royally hacked-off archangel off a saboteur's trail."

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"I'll just bet he did," retorted Crowley, knowing full well what sort of strategies Belial tended to devise. He didn't quite follow how the sprinklers had to do with the laptop or Belial, but he'd get the story eventually. "I imagine the trick was getting him to stop strategizing..."

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"Well, I managed to distract him when he paused to gloat," John said with a chuckle, not elaborating because he'd already been lectured once about getting hurt in the mad chase (http://community.livejournal.com/neutral_omens/39961.html) that had led up to that bizarre rescue. "Hold on a minute though, there were two other times? Christ, what's he doing, trying to set a record?...What?" he added, grinning lopsidedly as he caught sight of Zatanna's incredulous expression. "It's just Belial, luv, you'd have to meet him."

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"Belial," Zatanna repeated, blinking owlishly. She'd heard the name before, from John and from several other sources, but certainly not in any context even remotely like this. In fact, though he'd never been very forthcoming with details, she was fairly certain John had named that particular Crown as a mortal enemy at one time.

She resolutely refused to dwell any more on the notion of the two of them...or of Belial and Crowley...or Gabriel...or any combination of the four...because there was only so much a girl could take, dammit, and John by himself was challenge enough. "This Manor place must really be something else."

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"It is just Belial," Crowley agreed. "A snog and a grope is pretty much just a polite greeting. Wouldn't go farther without the Snob's permission, though... I think."

The demon looked significantly at John. By way of explanation, he said, "Well, the negotiations for a particular item were fairly heated. And he wasn't with Gabriel yet..."

Crowley had almost had to sleep with Belial to get John's soul piece and they had exchanged sigils not long afterward. Even something as simple as signing a contract with the Crown could be an erotic experience. Although imagining John kissing him... Crowley shook his head.

"It really is. And that's without even mentioning Adam."

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"Adam, he's the antichrist, right?" Zatanna nodded. The only other thing John had told her about Adam was that he was a "nice kid" and he protected everyone at the Manor. She suspected he'd only said that much to reassure her that he wasn't going to get killed hanging around with an unprecedented gathering of powerful supernatural entities, any one of whom could squash him like a bug if he annoyed them too much (and John being John, that was pretty much a given.) She wasn't sure whether it said more about John that he expected her to consider Satan's son a reliable protector, or about her that she did, just because John said so.

Crowley's reference to an item caught her attention, not only because of the emphasis he placed on the word but because of the way John tensed momentarily at the reference, his eyes flickering away from them both for just a second. She wondered if it could have anything to do with the panicked call she'd gotten from him months before, and the strange, urgent questions he'd asked. She also knew better than to ask about it when he was reacting in this way; getting information out of John that he didn't want to share was like pulling wisdom teeth. So she let it be, listening and piecing things together as he talked with his friend. Some other things she'd been wondering about for a while now were already beginning to come clear.

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