(I know I’m on your team but I couldn’t resist! The temptation was too great.)
Sam boards the vast cargo ship, headed for South Asia. The smell of the briny sea thick in his nostrils, he inhales deeply and it feels like home. From the cabin, the captain emerges just as Sam happens to glance that direction and their eyes meet. The captain smiles a wide grin that Sam can’t help but reciprocate. The captain joins him on the deck. “You’re Samuel, correct?” The captain extends his hand and Sam shakes it. “Yes.” “Quite right. I’m captain Crowley. Good to have you aboard. My, you are tall,” Crowley observes. “Like a beanstalk.” Sam resists the urge to say “you can be Jack if you’d like,” to the admittedly attractive captain. After that they go their separate ways. When the ship departs they go about their duties, but are sure to go out of their way to spare a passing glance, a friendly greeting or even a daring brush of the hand. And the long hard days don’t seem so bad once Sam finds himself as an honored guest in the captain’s bed for the longer part of the trip.
Sam’s sitting in the dark rowdiness of the speak easy, quietly smiling to himself amongst the comforting roar of the crowd. He lights a cigarette and exhales the smoke, adding to the thick air of the room. The crowds part for just a second or two, but it’s enough for him to get a glance at him. That man, also seated alone across the room, who looks so painfully familiar Sam doesn’t even catch himself staring until the man looks over and meets his gaze. Startled and blushing, Sam extinguishes his cigarette and gets up to leave. The man, Crowley, follows after him, drawn by the astonishing familiarity of the tall, lean brunette. When he steps outside, Sam is waiting for him. They walk in the cold night air, talking like old friends, even though they’ve never met. They both agree that the nostalgic, salty smell of the New York harbor seems to bring back memories that don’t exist.
“Yo, Samantha. You and me are on patrol.” “Yes, captain” Sam says and he steps two to follow the Captain into the steamy Vietnamese jungle. Before they get out of camp, Crowley lights a cigarette. As Sam walks beside him, he inhales the rich, dusty smell of the ashes. It’s an age old smell that warms Sam’s bones and he feels like he could just sink into it and fall through time. “God, I can’t wait to get back to the States where I can get a decent cigarette,” Crowley says, exhaling a lungful of smoke. What Crowley breathes out, Sam breathes in. “Yeah, bet that’s not the only reason you can’t wait to get back.” Sam smirks at his superior officer, but out here, there is no rank. They are just Crowley and Sam. Crowley blushes beneath Sam’s gaze, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. “Are we going to talk about why you really wanted to get me out here all alone?” Sam’s voice is low and deep and oh so inviting. He leans down and catches Crowley’s smoke-laced lips with his own. They pull apart just briefly and Crowley crushes the cigarette into the ground. “Wait… “ he says and pulls Sam back now with both hands for another kiss. “I can’t wait until I can do that whenever I want. As soon as we get out of this shit hole, it’s just gonna be you and me, all the time. Get a nice little flat in San Francisco. No one to bother us.” Crowley whispered against his lover’s skin. “Can’t wait,” Sam replies with a smile and they continue their patrol, hand in hand.
Sam glances back in the rear view mirror at his two kids in the back seat. “Ruby, give John back his army man, please,” Sam practically whines. Ever since the loss of Sam’s partner, Dean, Ruby has been acting out, and Sam, being the “big softie” that Dean always told him he was, can’t really be authoritative enough to control her. Needless to say, Ruby doesn’t give her brother back his toy. Once they reach the school, Sam takes John by the hand while Ruby runs off ahead. “Ruby, wait!” he calls, but she is already through the door. Moments later, she reappears holding the hand of… who is that? Sam thinks. As it turns out, it’s the second grade teacher, Mr. King. “Now, you’re not going to run off again, are you?” the man says, kneeling down to speak with Ruby. Sam approaches and watches with wonder. “No…” Ruby mumbles. “Good.” Mr. King stands and greets Sam. “This your little one?” Sam smiles. “Yeah.” “Well, I’d better keep a close eye on her. She seems like a handful.” Sam ran a loving hand through Ruby’s brown hair. “I’m Mr. King, by the way,” he introduces himself. “But you can call me Crowley.” Crowley’s smile gives Sam a warm, comfortable feeling that he’s sure he’s felt before but just can’t place. Nonetheless, he smiles back. “I’m Sam.” When they shake hands, the familiar grasp of Crowley’s palm fitting perfectly with his is so eerily familiar it sends a pleasant shiver down Sam’s spine.
Sam parks his speeder in the only spot left by the popular café in the upper city. The space lanes rush past, creating an artificial breeze among the soaring buildings, miles high above the earth’s surface. He walks in, brushing past the patrons of various status and species. He looks around the crowded restaurant, scanning the room for him. And this scene presents an eerie familiarity that Sam struggles with a moment but then forgets, once he catches the gaze of the one he was looking for. Crowley, an accomplished lawyer in the interplanetary courts who Sam had the pleasure of calling his date this fine evening. He blushed, a wide smile coming across his lips, and approached the man. “Hey,” Sam says rather awkwardly. “Evening…” Crowley nods. “Wow…” he says as Sam sits down across the booth. “You look amazing.” Sam blushes even harder. “You don’t clean up so bad yourself.” Crowley grinned a bashful smile. Their hands drifted towards each other’s across the table as they talked, and oddly enough, it wasn’t awkward when their fingers brushed and clasped together. It was more like a long awaited reunion than a first date.
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Fill, Team Crowley/Sam, Cloud Atlas AU
Date: 2013-09-24 01:36 pm (UTC)Sam boards the vast cargo ship, headed for South Asia. The smell of the briny sea thick in his nostrils, he inhales deeply and it feels like home. From the cabin, the captain emerges just as Sam happens to glance that direction and their eyes meet. The captain smiles a wide grin that Sam can’t help but reciprocate. The captain joins him on the deck. “You’re Samuel, correct?” The captain extends his hand and Sam shakes it. “Yes.” “Quite right. I’m captain Crowley. Good to have you aboard. My, you are tall,” Crowley observes. “Like a beanstalk.” Sam resists the urge to say “you can be Jack if you’d like,” to the admittedly attractive captain. After that they go their separate ways. When the ship departs they go about their duties, but are sure to go out of their way to spare a passing glance, a friendly greeting or even a daring brush of the hand. And the long hard days don’t seem so bad once Sam finds himself as an honored guest in the captain’s bed for the longer part of the trip.
Sam’s sitting in the dark rowdiness of the speak easy, quietly smiling to himself amongst the comforting roar of the crowd. He lights a cigarette and exhales the smoke, adding to the thick air of the room. The crowds part for just a second or two, but it’s enough for him to get a glance at him. That man, also seated alone across the room, who looks so painfully familiar Sam doesn’t even catch himself staring until the man looks over and meets his gaze. Startled and blushing, Sam extinguishes his cigarette and gets up to leave. The man, Crowley, follows after him, drawn by the astonishing familiarity of the tall, lean brunette. When he steps outside, Sam is waiting for him. They walk in the cold night air, talking like old friends, even though they’ve never met. They both agree that the nostalgic, salty smell of the New York harbor seems to bring back memories that don’t exist.
“Yo, Samantha. You and me are on patrol.” “Yes, captain” Sam says and he steps two to follow the Captain into the steamy Vietnamese jungle. Before they get out of camp, Crowley lights a cigarette. As Sam walks beside him, he inhales the rich, dusty smell of the ashes. It’s an age old smell that warms Sam’s bones and he feels like he could just sink into it and fall through time. “God, I can’t wait to get back to the States where I can get a decent cigarette,” Crowley says, exhaling a lungful of smoke. What Crowley breathes out, Sam breathes in. “Yeah, bet that’s not the only reason you can’t wait to get back.” Sam smirks at his superior officer, but out here, there is no rank. They are just Crowley and Sam. Crowley blushes beneath Sam’s gaze, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. “Are we going to talk about why you really wanted to get me out here all alone?” Sam’s voice is low and deep and oh so inviting. He leans down and catches Crowley’s smoke-laced lips with his own. They pull apart just briefly and Crowley crushes the cigarette into the ground. “Wait… “ he says and pulls Sam back now with both hands for another kiss. “I can’t wait until I can do that whenever I want. As soon as we get out of this shit hole, it’s just gonna be you and me, all the time. Get a nice little flat in San Francisco. No one to bother us.” Crowley whispered against his lover’s skin. “Can’t wait,” Sam replies with a smile and they continue their patrol, hand in hand.
Sam glances back in the rear view mirror at his two kids in the back seat. “Ruby, give John back his army man, please,” Sam practically whines. Ever since the loss of Sam’s partner, Dean, Ruby has been acting out, and Sam, being the “big softie” that Dean always told him he was, can’t really be authoritative enough to control her. Needless to say, Ruby doesn’t give her brother back his toy. Once they reach the school, Sam takes John by the hand while Ruby runs off ahead. “Ruby, wait!” he calls, but she is already through the door. Moments later, she reappears holding the hand of… who is that? Sam thinks. As it turns out, it’s the second grade teacher, Mr. King. “Now, you’re not going to run off again, are you?” the man says, kneeling down to speak with Ruby. Sam approaches and watches with wonder. “No…” Ruby mumbles. “Good.” Mr. King stands and greets Sam. “This your little one?” Sam smiles. “Yeah.” “Well, I’d better keep a close eye on her. She seems like a handful.” Sam ran a loving hand through Ruby’s brown hair. “I’m Mr. King, by the way,” he introduces himself. “But you can call me Crowley.” Crowley’s smile gives Sam a warm, comfortable feeling that he’s sure he’s felt before but just can’t place. Nonetheless, he smiles back. “I’m Sam.” When they shake hands, the familiar grasp of Crowley’s palm fitting perfectly with his is so eerily familiar it sends a pleasant shiver down Sam’s spine.
Sam parks his speeder in the only spot left by the popular café in the upper city. The space lanes rush past, creating an artificial breeze among the soaring buildings, miles high above the earth’s surface. He walks in, brushing past the patrons of various status and species. He looks around the crowded restaurant, scanning the room for him. And this scene presents an eerie familiarity that Sam struggles with a moment but then forgets, once he catches the gaze of the one he was looking for. Crowley, an accomplished lawyer in the interplanetary courts who Sam had the pleasure of calling his date this fine evening. He blushed, a wide smile coming across his lips, and approached the man. “Hey,” Sam says rather awkwardly. “Evening…” Crowley nods. “Wow…” he says as Sam sits down across the booth. “You look amazing.” Sam blushes even harder. “You don’t clean up so bad yourself.” Crowley grinned a bashful smile. Their hands drifted towards each other’s across the table as they talked, and oddly enough, it wasn’t awkward when their fingers brushed and clasped together. It was more like a long awaited reunion than a first date.