Welcome to Vegas, Baby

Whiskey and Wine

Crowley had been going through yet another round of poker. Sunglasses perched at the bridge of his nose, black suit neat and unwrinkled. He gazed around the table. To his right, a woman in a long neon green dress, and a half full martini. His left, a rather heavier set man in a wife beater and jeans, who looked as though he was in it for the money. It was a small table group, a size Crowley isn't used to playing against. The dealer turned his attention to Crowley, as if initiating it was his turn. Without a noise, he pushed his pile of chips into the middle.

"All in." He said quietly, taking a sip from his glass of whiskey.

"Bullshit!" The lady in the eye piercing neon green dress said, perfect brows furrowed to the point they almost touched.

"Yeah, there's no way in hell." The man to the left of him gave a snarky laugh.

"Try me." Crowley looked around the table, and couldn't help but admire the smirk that was barely visible on the dealers lips.

The table members scoffed. To his right, she pushed her chips in. Clearly thinking he was bluffing. To his left, he pushed his in, following the lead of the pretty lady across from him.

"Well, Anthony.." The dealer motioned with his hand to the table that was now full of chips. "Show us your hand."

A smirk started to cross his lips, and with a final sip of his glass, laid his hand down for the group to see. Crowley stood, beginning to load the chips into his bag to get payment. The pair left sitting stared at the hand dealt.

"You've gotta be joking.." Lefty spoke, face heating to an unsettling red color. "A fucking royal flush?!" He stood, facing Crowley.

The dealer started cleaning up the cards, a larger smirk crossing his lips. What could he say, he liked a fight. Didn't mean he'd have to stop it. Especially since the man who'd win usually tipped him a large sum for keeping quiet.

Crowley groaned in annoyance and turned to face Lefty. "I don't want a problem, sir. Really. I'd like to go take my winnings to the front now please." He said politely, taking his blazer off and beginning to role up his sleeves.

"No, n-no. You cheated, those should be mine and this perty lady here's winnin's. Not yers.." Lefty belched, alcohol nearly blacking him out. With a raise of his hands, he shoved Crowley. (Bad idea. The dealer already knew this, and has known Crowley long enough to learn that lanky bastard took Karate for ten years.)

The redhead cracked his neck and shoved the guy back, holding his ground. "What's your name?" Crowley asked softly, changing his stance slightly.

"Tony..Why?" Tony shoved back harder, not wanting to throw a drunken punch that'd probably end up in the table.

"Well, Tony, just incase you forget you're name, I'll know what to tell the Golden Crew's team." He raised his fist, about to throw it when he realized his arm wasn't moving.

A soft, manicured set of hands was gripping his arm. He looked at the hands, and followed the arms up to the owner of the pretty hands. "Can I help you?" Crowley asked, his tone changing from angry to a more gentle one. Tony took off running, (More of a hobble. He's drunk.) and Righty was quickly walking, heels clicking away. Even the dealer started cleaning up the mess faster, smirk gone and head down.

"I would hate to prod, but this is my brothers establishment..there's no need for that, Dear." The man spoke, and gently let go of Crowley's arm.

"Gabriel's your brother?" Crowley said suprised. This man looked nothing like the owner. He was shorter, nicer, and looked gayer than a treeful of monkeys on nitrous oxide.

"Well, half brother. Why don't we go have a drink, stranger?" The man gave a warm smile that nearly melted Crowley to his core.

"Anthony Crowley, but, call me Crowley.." He mumbled and shook his head. "A drink would be nice. Think Lefty sobered me up." He laughed softly. This was gross. Why did he feel so soft and nervous. Most of the men he'd met in Vegas were just quick flings he didn't think about.

"Lefty?" The man asked confused, "And, Aziraphale. Sorry for the late introduction."

"Lefty, yeah, Tony, he was sitting on my left." He looked away, trying to calm down considering the lights of the casino were hiding the blush coating his cheeks.

"Ah. Tickety-Boo." Aziraphale said non-chalantly. As if that was a normal response. He linked arms with Crowley, taking him through the busy crowds of the building to a private room with a booth and a stripper pole, and one of those hotel mini fridges that held liquor. "Wine?"

"Whiskey, if you have it.." The lanky male sat at the booth, watching the pretty- the hot- fuck. The man. Watching the man walk around and grab a wine glass, and a smaller glass, before coming to the table and taking a seat after pouring both glasses.

"Well, Crowley..Tell me about yourself. Hopefully the whiskey and wine makes us both a bit calmer."