Present Blessings, A Drowley Advent Calendar, December 5
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Dean looked down at his clipboard. “Well, you have another appointment in two hours, I could use the time to introduce myself to your other employees”.
Now, if this was a normal day and he had simply hired another PA, he would have been delighted that they were already on top of things and knew what to do. But as things stood…
Still, him leaving the room sounded like a good idea, especially because he would no longer be able to incapacitate Crowley, so he told him to go ahead.
He grinned once more. “Alright, boss. See you soon!”
He remembered just in time. “Wait! You didn’t tell me your last name.”
There was the possibility that he was actually called Dean, since he seemed to be so deep in his delusion that he probably thought that he was protected by God anyway so he didn’t have to lie, and if he was just given –
“Angels don’t have last names.” And with that, he strolled out of his office.
Of course. Well… Time to figure out how he had done this, then.
Crowley would have thought little of himself i he didn’t have cameras installed.
He pulled up the video and went back two hours. He was certain that Dean had not been waiting for him as he stepped into his office; if he had failed to notice that, it would have been time to think about retirement after all.
No, he had to –
He stared at the footage as Dean did, in fact, simply appear out of thin air.
This wasn’t possible. He went back again. No – it was exactly – yes – Dean had appeared out of thin air.
So, in addition to having made it impossible for him to move for a short period of time, and the sudden wardrobe change, he had to consider the possibility that he was, in fact, an angel., or that at the very least he had certain powers he so far had never believed in.
He took a deep breath. Alright. He had to think about this.
Now, Dean claimed he was an angel. There was a beginning at least, so he decided to do some research, wondering at the same time what his other employees were making of Dean. They probably liked him well enough – attractiveness and superficial charm often carried the day, even if there was absolutely no reason for it.
Alright then. Time to look at angels it was.
Now, naturally there was none named Dean, but names could change, and at the very least, he could simply have picked it so it wouldn’t cause undue attention. But something similar, as was always the best pick for an alias if one needed one (Crowley knew from experience)…
Wait, that could be it.
Dahnay.
Angel of leadership, invoked in several grimoires. Somehow, he didn’t think that Dean was interested in dark magic, even for all that had happened so far, but if his name was just invoked, that wasn’t really his fault. God knew Crowley had been called many things in his life.
Meaning of the name: to be safe; wellness. Which really didn’t fit with that whole warriors of God claim, but if he had indeed fought, only in the artillery…
All of this was getting him nowhere.
So Dean might be the angel of leadership, dedicated to make people feel safe. That didn’t change the fact that he was now apparently trying to run Crowley’s life, and probably wouldn’t be gain said.
He suddenly realized something and went through the corporation’s employee files. No, nothing on Dean or any proof they had been tampered wit just yet. Then again, what did an angel know about the specifics of working for a firm as his?
If he wanted to stay, he would need a file –
Not that Crowley wanted him to stay. Obviously not. If they had met in a bar, he might have been tempted – more than tempted – to take him home with him, but as things stood…
Dean entered the room carrying a try. “Here. Coffee and… I think you call them biscuits? Charlie kept saying cookies, but I think that’s an American thing.”
Charlie Bradbury, the bubbly red-haired head of his IT department. He was not surprised she and Dean seemed to have hit it off. “Thank you.” There could be something in that coffee, but since Dean needed him (though he needed him, in any case) alive and well, it was unlikely that he would try and poison him, so he took a sip.
Bloody hell, he made better coffee than any other PA Crowley had ever had.
“And, any good? I don’t get the coffee thing, if I’M being honest” Dean happily rambled on, as Crowley was beginning to suspect was a habit of his.
He put the coffee down. “We need to talk”.
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