[identity profile] dandelionlily.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] tamingthemuse
Title: Accidental Demon
Fandom: Blue Exorcist x Supernatural x Good Omens
Prompt: #422-Pyrrhic Victory
Warnings: references to demons
Rating: G
Summary: Crowley never intended to sire a human child and American exorcists are all amateurs.


One motorcycle chased another down Route 66, dodging around the cars. The biker in front wore high-quality black leathers and helmet, while the one following wore a brown motorcycle jacket with the sign of the cross stitched on it in white. The first motorcycle took exit 34 and car horns blared as the second cut across two lanes of traffic to follow. On the near-deserted county highway with farmland on either side, the second biker pulled up parallel to the first and opened fire with a Desert Eagle. He lost what tenuous control he had when the biker in black bumped his bike and sent him spinning out into the empty oncoming lane. The first motorcycle circled back and its rider pulled off her helmet with an aggrieved sigh.

“I don’t have time for this,” she told the barely-conscious accident victim as she pulled him off the road and into a grassy ditch. “I’ve got a flight in six hours, which I will miss if I have to explain to the police why clergymen keep shooting at me. So how about you say nothing and I promise I’ll say nothing. I’ll even call triple-A, which I don’t usually do for people who shoot at me.” She pulled off his helmet. He had a beard, a kind round face and a priest’s collar.

He blinked into full awareness and grabbed his gun. “Demon! Get away from me!”

“Listen, Father, whoever told you you could handle a gun that big with one hand was lying to you. Your aim is—“ He pulled the trigger. “See, that would have missed me even if I hadn’t taken all the bullets out. Silver-jacketed ammo isn’t cheap, you know—“ He threw an open vial at her face. “—Unlike this holy water. What is that, E-class? It barely even tingles. You’re really lucky I’m not actually trying to hurt you.”

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God,” the clergyman chanted.

“For crying out loud! Do I look like a ghoul to you? I think I’m actually insulted.” She stood and walked back to her bike. She left the other bike out in the middle of the road where any passing car might destroy it.

“You won’t escape, demon! ‘From the depths of Hell, I summon thee into the light and collar of God! Antithesis, attack!”

The woman whirled, amazed, and demanded, “Hellhound? You summoned a—“ She was interrupted when a doberman the size of a pony with red glowing eyes and slavering jaws leaped on her and pinned her under its weight. “No!” she yelled, “Get back. Down! No, don’t—heh, that tickles, you—stop it!”

The priest’s jaw dropped as the woman ruffled its ears and playfully jerked its head from side to side.

“You have the worst doggy breath in the world, pooch. Yes you do. Yes you do. Who’s a silly puppy who smells like rotten eggs? You are. Now come on, let me get up.” She climbed to her feet and wiped unsuccessfully at the doggy drool. “Did you realize the smell of sulfur never actually comes out of leather?”

“That’s impossible! Antithesis, I order you to attack! Now!” The enormous dog looked at its summoner with ears pinned back and growled like a tractor starting up.

“Whoa, hey boy, cool it,” the woman insisted, catching his collar until he whined and sat down. “Yeah, I know he’s a grump, but you can’t eat him.” The dog covered most of her face with one sloppy lick. “Ugh. No, you can’t come with me. Customs would have a field day if I tried to bring a three hundred pound dog into the country. You stay here and guard him, make sure he doesn’t come after me again. How does that sound?” The dog’s head drooped, but he went to lie down next to the priest and growl every time it looked like he might get up or reach to tear up the summoning paper.

“You won’t win!” the priest yelled. “Whatever you’re planning, we’ll stop you! I’ll make sure you don’t make that flight, even if I have to call the police to detain you.”

“What will you tell them? That I’m a demon, and it is your holy mission to destroy my kind? Believe me, that gets you locked up in a mental hospital real fast. Even if the police did detain me for questioning, I’m going to tell them that you chased me on a motorcycle and shot at me. You’d go to jail, and the rest of your little demon hunting gang would probably be arrested as members of a dangerous cult. Sure, you’d make me reschedule my flight, but that sounds like a Pyrrhic victory to me.”

“You— you—“ The young priest stared at her. “What are you?”
Her eyebrow bounced up to her hairline. “You came after me without even knowing?” She flipped out a badge. “I’m Allison Greer, field agent of the Knights of the True Cross. In other words? I’m way out of your league.”



Four hours later, reclining in the VIP lounge, Allison answered her cell phone. “Hey boss. I’ll be on the plane in forty-five minutes. And can I just say thank you for getting me first class to Tokyo? That has to be ridiculously expensive.” She shifted her phone to the other ear. “No real trouble. Had a couple of run-ins with the locals, but you know how they are over here. Total amateur hour. I can’t wait to be back in Japan, but please tell me you’ve got something better for me than another demon mold infestation to clean up.” She sat up in the chair, shocked. “He’s what? You’re sure?” She listened for a moment and then smiled. “Of course, Mephisto-san. I look forward to it.” After listening to the response she snapped her phone closed. “The scion of Satan, hmm?” she murmured, “This is going to get interesting.”

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