author's note: Basically a spin-off of s/8573653/1/The-Perks-and-Problems-of-being-an-Angel-during-the-Apocalypse where Crowley and Gabriel make a deal, the only thing you need to know is, that Crowley knows Gabe as Loki and Gabe promised to buy him a beer if they both survived the (non-)apocalypse

Gabriel materialized in the middle of nowhere at a crossroads junction. The only thing in sight was some shady bar and a couple of cars parked behind it, but no human was to be seen. The apocalypse had been averted, Castiel was working on his big spring cleaning in Heaven and he had some time on his hands.

"Croohoow-leeyyy!"

"I'm not deaf you know." The demon popped into existence right next to him with an amused smile on his face. His expression changed almost immediately though, as he narrowed his eyes to really look at the Trickster before him.

"Bloody hell." He took a few steps backwards. "You lying wanker."

Gabriel swore inwardly. He'd thought his true nature concealed well enough, but obviously he'd underestimated Crowley. On the outside he put on a smug grin. "Hello-ho? Trickster."

"You sneaky bastard." The demon shook his head almost impressed. "I should have asked for your soul."

"Technically I still don't have one."

"A bloody angel."

"What gave me away?"

"The fact that I'm really good at reading energy signatures and this time you're not hidden behind the background radiation of the angelic equivalent of Hiroshima."

"And I thought it was my heavenly charms." Gabriel's expression grew more serious. "You didn't notice in Prague," he observed.

"I was practically a fledgeling demon back then. I'm King of Hell now."

The angel raised an eyebrow. "It seems that charming bastard looked out for you pretty well."

"Yeah let's just hope that no one figures out that I made a deal with an angel, that helped to put Lucifer away for good. My reputation wouldn't survive that. You did give the Winchesters the info about the rings, didn't you?"

Gabriel nodded. "Guilty as charged."

"OK you prick, why did you call me?"

"Hmmm. Let's see, the apocalypse was canceled, you are alive, I am alive..."

"You want to buy me a beer?" Crowley was seriously shocked.

"What? Are you that surprised that I actually keep up my end of the bargain?" The angel's eyes were wide in mock hurt.

"Trickster's have been known to weasel out of deals occasionally," Crowley commented dryly. "And I wouldn't count on an angel keeping his word to a demon, even if it was just the promise, that Hell would be hot tomorrow."

Gabriel grinned. "First – I am not most angels. Second – I've got nothing better to do."

Crowley threw his hands in the air. "Fine I give up." He turned around and began to walk towards the bar, hands in pockets. "Besides – I like beer."

Once inside the two of them took their places in the back of the bar at a raunchy table. Crowley ordered a dark beer and Gabriel some creamy liqueur.

"Really?" Crowley snorted at the angel's choice.

"Be nice – You have your beer and I drink what I like."

At a table a few over from their own two humans were discussing their lives and careers. As always one of them was far from satisfied and mourned his missed chances. Crowley's attention immediately drifted towards their conversation. The angel smacked him lightly on the back of the head.

"Don't even think about it."

The demon was irritated. "Since when are you on a moral high horse?"

"Oh please – I'm not. I just want to enjoy a night off."

Crowley relaxed into his seat. "So, how should I call you now?"

The angel tensed slightly. "Loki's fine."

"Ah, come on, what's a little name between friends?"

"We are not friends, Crowley."

The demon shrugged. "We might as well be."

There was something about that offer, that tempted the archangel. But he was no fool.

"If I tell you, you have to promise, not to out me to anyone or use it in any way against me."

Crowley smiled, he knew when he was bout to seal a deal. "And what do I get out of it?"

"My name." The angel had the audacity to grin at him.

"And if that's not enough?" Crowley's eyes sparkled and his voice was a mix of a growl and a low purr.

"Well you can satisfy your curiosity." The angel leaned in close until their noses almost touched. "And there's always the kiss."

Crowley's mouth opened slightly and the wicked gleam in his eyes mirrored the expression in the face mere inches from his own.

"Deal." He leaned in and claimed Loki's mouth. Like the last time the angel was more than just a willing participant. And damn if he wasn't talented with his tongue. Crowley couldn't completely control himself and bit the angel's lower lip lightly. He expected this to earn him a surprised intake of breath or maybe a wince and the attempt to end the kiss. What he didn't predict was the angel's enthusiastic moan and the deepening of their exchange. 'Who'd have thought, that angels are kinky?'

Crowley tended to think of this as some kind of duel. He and 'Loki' were more or less evenly matched and last time the angel had kept the upper hand mostly due to the element of surprise. Tonight he'd discovered a weakness in his opponent and used it to his full advantage.

When Crowley ended the kiss, he left the angel slightly flushed and out of breath.

A young man at the bar shot them a dirty look full of disgust. The angel tensed as he noticed it.

"What, mate? You want some, too?" Crowley shot the human his best leery grin and wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

The human looked as if he would burst an artery any moment, threw some cash on the counter and left in a hurry. Crowley turned towards 'Loki' with a small smile. "Come on, it's our night off."

The angel relaxed visibly. "You're right: No tempting, no smiting." He took his drink and sipped from the sweet liquid.

"So," Crowley leaned back with his beer in hand now that the interruption was over, "your name?"

"Gabriel."

The demon spewed the beer he had just been about to swallow over the table. "Gabriel?!"

The angel signaled the waitress to bring them another round. "So you've heard of me."

"I kissed a bloody arch-angel? Twice?" Crowley was a demon – and not just any demon either: He was the King of Hell. He didn't lose his cool easily. But this was a bit much even for him. If Hell ever found out, that he'd made deals with a bloody archangel – no matter how inconsequential – his days at the top would be extremely numbered.

Gabriel watched him carefully. "You're not going into shock over this, are you?"

Crowley turned towards the waitress, who was just about to drop the beer and liqueur on their table. "I need a Scotch sweetheart – the best you've got."

She nodded with a smile "Certainly, Sir – and may I add, the way you showed up that idiot: Good for you."

After she left Crowley had to face that annoyingly self-satisfied arch-prick next to him. "I kissed an archangel."

Gabriel furrowed his brow. "Are you regretting it?"

The demon took a short moment to contemplate. The weird thing was, he could have sworn, that Gabriel awaited his answer slightly nervous. "Nah, I've never regretted a good kiss in my life and I certainly won't start now."

The waitress returned with his Scotch and after tasting it, Crowley decided it would do.

Gabriel who could obviously read his expression, told the waitress to "Leave the bottle."

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

The angel gave him a lopsided smile. "Only if necessary."

They were both higher beings with extraordinary control over their physical vessels. Therefore the waitress was at first impressed, then amazed and at last flabbergasted by their capacity for hard liqueur. Gabriel and Crowley were on their way from slightly tipsy to pleasantly drunk as they exchanged stories about angels, demons and pagan deities they had both known, when the door to the joint opened.

"I tell you – Baldur is by no means the good guy everyone thinks he is. He just has a better PR guy than me. That one time he..." Gabriel's voice drifted of as he realized, that Crowley wasn't listening anymore but watched intently at something behind him. The angel started to say something else, but while opening his mouth he thought better of it. Turning around was probably the easier option. He put his hand down and turned around to look over his shoulder, to see a group of newcomers, that spread out among the patrons of the bar. He was a bit drunk so he wasn't completely sure, but it seemed as if the people were afraid of the new arrivals.

"Zmey."

Gabriel blinked. "What?"

"Really look at them angel boy."

Obviously Crowley held his liqueur better than Gabriel, the angel put that information away for future references. He concentrated on his higher senses and made out the shadows overlapping the physical bodies of the newcomers. Each and every one of them had two additional heads in the same immaterial plane his own wings were stuffed away in. And those heads were mean-looking, scaly and reptilian. He was still computing this new information, thinking about what to do next, when the leader of the Zmey lifted his arm to strike at their waitress.

With a rather clumsy sweeping gesture of his arm, Gabriel threw him against the nearest wall.

Everyone in the bar halted. The humans still were too afraid to move and the Zmey froze, eyes darting around confused, trying to figure out, where the attack had come from.

The angel stepped forward pointing a finger at the leader of the aggressors hanging ten inches above the ground pinned to a wall.

"It's my evening off." He stated with a slight pout.

Behind him Crowley snickered.

Gabriel decided to ignore the demon. "I was having a quiet few drinks with a friend and was looking forward to get really, really pissed for once and maybe make some stupid decisions that I could later blame on the alcohol. And you have to blast in here tonight of all nights and mess with my entertainment."

The assembled Zmey were beginning to deal with the first shock. As Gabriel had so obviously outed himself as the attacker of their leader, they all – very subtly – shifted there positions getting ready to attack.

"You're so going to regret this. I'm going to..." Gabriel was cut off by the simultaneously attacking half a dozen Zmey.

Crowley swore under his breath and summoned a blade into his hand. He usually preferred a simple gun and the elegance of killing from a distance, but that wouldn't do him any good here.

The Zmey were formidable warriors and far from easy to kill. There was a reason why medieval artists had often chosen their true form to depict demons or even Satan himself in a way humans could comprehend. Crowley jumped into the battle, stabbing one of the bastards in the back. He knew it wouldn't kill the monster, but he distracted him for long enough to keep the angel from getting his wings bitten off.

"No one messes with the woman who brings me good Scotch," he informed the hissing reptile.

Gabriel had his own blade out and swung after the left head of the attacker right in front of him. The Zmey were an honest threat at least under the current circumstances: three to one, Gabriel's power at least partially bound by keeping the leader pinned where he was and upholding a force shield to protect the waitress and the other patrons at the same time, and both of them slightly intoxicated. Crowley wasn't the type to fight himself – he had demons and a dog to do that for him. But none of them were here and he had to dodge the claws and teeth of immaterial as well as material heads while he tried to cut them off. All that wouldn't have been too bad if it wasn't for the freaking volleys of fire that these abominations spit his way.

"I hate dragons!" Gabriel exclaimed.

"Seems we have something in common then." Crowley swung his sword in unison with Gabriel's archangel blade and took of an immaterial left head, as the angel took out the right and the middle one in one strike. "You have to take all three or they will just grow back."

The angel shot him a look of disbelieve. "You think I don't know that? I'm just out of practice."

Their conversation was cut short as Gabriel cried out in pain. One of the additional heads had locked its jaws around the base of his right wing. It was a good thing that Crowley was a demon and didn't care too much about keeping the angel intact, otherwise he might have hesitated to take a swing so close to Gabriel's precious wing.

It took the two of them almost four minutes to kill the attackers and only their leader was left breathing, still pinned to the wall. Gabriel was bleeding from a couple of wounds on his vessel and had lost several feathers from his wings. Crowley didn't want to know how his meat suit looked right now.

The demon stepped over the remains of a table to face the leader of the Zmey. "What are you guys doing so far away from home?" His voice was calm and sweet and friendly and it sent a shiver of cold down Gabriel's spine.

The dragon spit at him.

Although the acidly spit hit him and burnt a hole into the lapel of his jacket Crowley remained completely calm.

"You know there are all this rumors about dragons being oh-so-cunning," he explained with a small smile, "yet here you are attacking the King of Hell and Loki of Asgard." Crowley shook his head slightly. "You are really lucky, that tonight is my evening off." And with those words the demon beheaded the helpless Zmey.

As Crowley turned to leave, Gabriel snipped a coin to the waitress, who had tended to them the evening through. "I'm sorry about the mess."

As they stood outside under the clear night sky, Crowley turned towards Gabriel. "You think she'll appreciate the coin?"

"She looked after us really well, she deserved something for her troubles, and maybe the Tibetan luck charm will help to avoid something like that in the future." The angel let out a small sigh. "Thanks for sticking with Loki."

The demon shrugged. "I've got my own reputation to think of." A lot of things were racing through Crowley's mind. There was the question what had led Zmey to attack as a group, when usually they were lone hunters, what had brought them out of eastern Europe and lead them to this out of the way joint. Those questions were more probably than not linked to his problems he had back home with freaking politics. Stuff he really didn't want to deal with right now. But there was one question, that he might not mind getting answered. "What kind of stupid decisions, were you planning to blame on the alcohol?"

Gabriel looked adorable, Crowley decided. His injuries were already closing or closed due to his angelic healing, but he still looked a bit ruffled from the fight. And his face, still flushed by the alcohol and the exercise, wore an expression of slight confusion, which then changed into one of embarrassment as he remembered his earlier words. "Why can't I keep my mouth shut, once I had one or two bottles," he mumbled under his breath.

"Well there is a traditional kind of stupid decision..." Crowley began to tease.

"Oh – shut up." Gabriel didn't like being made fun of.

"Make me." The demon challenged in a low growl.

For a fraction of a moment the archangel stared at him, trying to decide. He wasn't drunk anymore, the fight had taken care of that, but the adrenaline was at least as good if you needed to blame something.

Gabriel pulled Crowley into their first real kiss.