My days were filled with aimlessly wandering around my apartment, feeling sorry for myself. Still holding onto the anger I felt for Dean, even now, I can't get the image of him killing me out of my head. It was just a matter of time before the call came in, and they asked for my help in opening the cage, and throwing Lucifer's ass back in.

I was also nose deep in books, trying to think of ways to find Pestilence. But every spell I decided to cast, backfired in my face. I nearly set my apartment aflame twice. Pestilence was a powerful being, and I was simply not powerful enough to track him down without any help.

The fire roared, allowing heat to spread across the apartment, as my eyes danced along with the flames. I was leaning against the fireplace, a hand above the hath, and a glass of whiskey in the other, taking sips now and then. A slight breeze came from behind me, and a feeling of being watched lingered through the air.

"Crowley," his name rang freely from my lips, not bothering to turn to face him.

"What a nice apartment you have," his British voice echoed in the room, as I imagined he gandered his gaze around the elegance of my apartment. "Did you kill the previous owner?" I hear him take a seat on the couch, as I lift my hand up from the fireplace, and turn my body to face him.

"Killed the owner," a smirk danced across my lips, as I flashed the eyebrows up. "What do you want Crowley? Come to kidnap me again?" I swayed my hips towards the couch, stopping a few inches away from him. He crossed his leg over the other, and learned back into the couch.

"A drink for your guest for a start," he replied with a smug look on his face, but I narrowed my eyes at him as I wasn't in the mood to play games. "No, ok," in a blink of an eye, he had vanished from the couch, and reappeared over at the bar which was in the living room. I could hear the expensive bottle of whiskey opening, and he poured himself one. "Our first date back at the house was short, and we didn't really get to know one another," he turned around with the glass in his hand. "How about we have a girl chat? One-on-one. Trade secrets?" He was enjoying this way too much.

"Only secret you're getting out of me is how to remove blood stains from the floor. Especially yours," it was a calm but meaningful threat. Crowley let out a 'oo' sound, not taking my threat seriously.

"Feisty one, aren't you," Crowley mocks, bringing the glass to his lips. However, before he could have the sweet bitter taste of the whiskey, the glass smashes magically. Allowing the glass and liquid to scatter the floor. "Rude," his eyes wondered me, throwing the rim of the glass he was left holding to the floor.

"You better start talking or the next thing I'll explode will be harder to recover," my eyes lowered to his private area, indicating I would blow his balls to kingdom-come. He just chuckles, trying to pass it over, and not cringing on the inside. But he gave up on this game of his.

"Fine, I would like your assistance," he came a few inches away from me, now getting down to business.

"Like your assistance with the Colt - which I might add didn't bloody kill the Devil!" My voice raised, not enough to be shouting at him, but enough to portray my frustration with his false information.

"Hey! That wasn't my fault!" He retorted back at me, his own voice raising in volume. "Look, your 'entanglement' with the Winchesters provides you with a very unique opportunity. They trust you. And after the whole ordeal with the Colt, they won't kill me on sight with you there. Vouching for me," I couldn't help but chuckle with his choice of words, but I brought the glass to my lips, and tasted the bitter-sweet of the whiskey. "So, what do you say, love?" Our eyes never disconnected from one another, as I just stared intently at him. "One Brit to another," he flashed up his eyebrows briefly, enticing me to accept it. I just had this feeling about him, that he was trying to help. But demons always have a hundred different motives, and clearly Crowley had a few different ones playing out here...

..........................

I got dressed, and followed Crowley to where the boys were - which they were driving around. I watched from the side-line to see the Impala skid to the side, as a commotion happened inside. Before seeing Crowley knocking the window of the passenger side door. Both the boys climbed out of the car, as I swayed my hips towards them.

"You're upset. We should discuss it," Crowley fumbled the words out, wanting to reason with them. "Not here, but –"

"You want to talk?" Sam began, pointing Ruby's knife towards him. "After what you did to us?" Sam was stalking Crowley like he was prey.

"After what I – What I did to you?! I gave you the Colt!" Crowley raises his voice at Sam.

"Yeah, and you knew it wouldn't work against the Devil!" Sam yells back at Crowley furious at the fact it didn't work.

"I never!" He retorted, he was kind of camp, and I was here for it.

"You set us up. We lost people on that suicide run – good people!" Sam was visibly angry, and couldn't contain it any longer.

"Who you take on the ride is your own business!" Crowley replied, trying to defuse the tension. "Look, everything is still the same. We're all still in this together,"

"Sure, we are," Sam was going to strike, and on that thought he tried to strike Crowley, who disappeared and reappeared behind him.

"Call your dog off – please," Sam was ready to pounce again, but Dean grabbed his forearm and stopped him from advancing. "Bloody show yourself woman!!" Crowley raised his voice, rattled that I wasn't 'seen' by the boys. The Winchesters looked confused for a moment.

"It was such a pleasure to watch you squirm," my voice soared through the air, and I suddenly appeared in front of the boys, but I was there all along. "Sam, Dean," my eyes cast between the two men, as I offered a bow of my head and a pleasant smile. "Crowley wants to talk. I couldn't say no to a fellow Brit," I swayed from in front of them, and to the side line.

"Give me one good reason," Dean states, pointing his index finger to Crowley.

"I can give you Pestilence," Crowley's words shocked me, as he wasn't talkative back at my apartment.

"What do you know about Pestilence?" Dean retorted.

"I know how to get him... That's got your interest, doesn't it?" Crowley was smug, like I said, Demons always have a 100 motives on wanting something. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sam's expression, not believing a word from Crowley's mouth, not what happened to Ellen and Jo.

"Are you actually listening to this?" Sam's voice rose, as he made eye contact with his brother's expression. One that was willing to listen to Crowley.

"Sam," Dean held his finger up to him, wanting Sam to be quiet.

"Are you friggin' nuts?!" Sam cuts off Dean before he could finish, his voice now growing in volume.

"Shut up for a second, Sam!" Dean matched his tone of voice.

"Shut up, the both of you!" Crowley now pitched in. Making the three of us turn our heads back to him. "Look, I swear. I thought the colt would work. It's an honest mistake. It's all part of the learning process. But nothing's changed. I still want the Devil dead. Well... One thing's changed. Now the Devil knows that I want him dead. Which, by the way, makes me the most buggered son in all of creation,"

"Holy crap. We don't care," Dean didn't give a rat's ass of Crowley's dilemma.

"They burnt down my house!" He yells at Dean, but he doesn't care, shaking his head slightly in response. "They are my tailor!" He shouts at us. "Two months under a rock like a bloody salamander! Every Demon on Hell and Earth's got his eyes out for me! And yet..." Crowley began to take a few steps forward. "Here I am... Last place I should be – In the road, talking to Sam and Dean Winchester, under a friggin' spotlight!" Crowley yells, before pointing his right hand towards the light of the spotlight, and it suddenly explodes with his gesture. Glass shattered, and electricity currents scattered from above.

"Feel better?" I mocked the situation with a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. His eyes locked with me, but he didn't say a word, just gave me the death glare. Before exhaling deeply, getting all that anger out.

"So come with me. Please," though he asked, none of us really moved or confirmed to him that we were willing to go. "Do you want the Horsemen rings or not? Yes, I know all about that. Shall we?" It was a brief stare off between the three men, but the boys gave in, accepting his offer. Crowley began to walk to the Impala, but Dean and Sam's head twisted to lock eyes with me. As if I had told him about the Horsemen and the rings.

"Don't look at me, I didn't tell him," I scoffed at the thought they would think I would tell Crowley - of all the Demons, everything that has been happening. "I've been trying to locate Pestilence on my own, but I come up short. Crowley knows things, he has - had connections," I corrected myself, as all the connections he had would surely be expired now, as he was one of the most wanted Demons on Hell and Earth. "Let's at least hear him out," I was trying to give Crowley the benefit of the doubt. He could have ran, and hid for centuries, but he was here, risking his arse to help us. Even if he had different motives behind him...

*******************