A/N: I'm back and posting. Reader is a Sister!Winchester

***

"Y/N/N, you've got a package," Dean yelled from the other room.

You hopped off your bed and hurried toward the library where he'd called from. Sammy held the large padded envelope out to you and you snatched it from his grip.

"So, what is it this time?" Dean, your twin, asked as he sipped his beer. "Holy undergarments? Cursed dryer lint?"

You rolled your eyes. "Hey, you guys have your thing, I have mine. Besides, I thought you weren't going to make fun of me any more after the doll?"

Sam grimaced. "Let's not bring that up. Ever again."

Dean rolled his eyes and you gave them a little wave as you left the library to return to your own room. A couple of years ago you had started buying 'weird' items off the internet. Ghosts in a jar, haunted paintings, cursed amulets and whatever else tripped your fancy. You did what research you could and bought the items you felt had at least a chance of being genuine.

When you'd started doing this a couple of years ago, your brothers had teased you relentlessly. Then you'd purchased a rag doll that moved by itself while all three of you watched. After that they agreed it was best if some items were out of the hands of the uninformed. That didn't keep them from teasing you on occasion as more than half the things you bought were just normal everyday objects that someone made up a story for.

You dropped onto your bed and ripped open the envelope. You shook it over the bed and out came a dog whistle and a wrinkled sheet of paper, the writing on it thin and crooked.

This whistle is your problem now. Don't try to return it. The old man that gave it to me called it the Whistle of the Damned. He said it was travelling, looking for its owner. Whatever the hell that means. He told me to use it on damned creatures. That the whistle made me their god. All it's done is bring me a crap ton of misery and bad luck. If I were you, I'd send it on as quick as possible.

You arched a brow as you read over the words again before setting the paper aside. You picked up the tarnished golden whistle and turned it in your fingers. It didn't look like anything other than an old, dirty dog whistle. Maybe it worked on hellhounds? You shrugged.

The surface of the metal was rough under your fingertips and you tilted it to examine it more closely under the light. It was apparent that at one time something was etched along the side, but the years had faded it and made it impossible to read. You carried it into your bathroom and dug around under the counter until you found some anti-bacterial wipes.

Only after cleaning it as thoroughly as you could did you take a chance and blow the whistle. Nothing happened and you realized you had no way of even knowing if it worked as a dog whistle. It wasn't like you could hear it.

A shout from the other room caught your attention and you dropped the whistle, grabbed your gun and hurried into the hall to track the disturbance.

"What the bloody hell are you two playing at?"

A shiver ran through you with the familiar voice. You would recognize that British accent anywhere. You lowered your weapon and stepped into the room to find your brothers gaping at the king of hell. All three of them looked completely confused yet angry at the same time.

"What did you two do to piss him off this time?" you asked as you leaned against the doorframe.

Crowley spun to face you, the scowl on his face transforming into a smile. "Ah, there she is. The only Winchester worth talking to. Hello, love."

You shook your head even as you gave him a lopsided smile. "Hello, Crowley. What's going on?" You'd always had a soft spot for the demon much to your brothers' displeasure. You couldn't help it if the sexy man pushed all your buttons—from his dark hair, to his light beard and that toe curling accent.

He slipped his hands into his pockets and took a step in your direction as your brothers frowned behind him. "Your idiot brothers here clearly summoned me, but now they're playing dumb. Unless it was you? Have an inkling to see your favorite king of hell, Y/N?"

"All right, all right. That's enough of that," Dean said. He stepped between you and the demon. It drove him and Sam nuts that you and Crowley were always flirting with each other. Nothing else had ever come of it, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't hoping it would.

Crowley frowned at Dean's interference and disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

"That was...weird," Sam said. "Even for Crowley."

Dean shook his head. "You're telling me." He turned to look at you. "You didn't summon him, did you?"

"Yes, Dean. I summoned the king of hell from my bathroom. Did I forget to mention it?"

"No need to be sarcastic," he responded. "We should probably figure out what's going on so he doesn't just show up again." He turned back to Sam who nodded.

Sam glanced at you with a hopeful expression. "Want to help?"

"Um...that's a no from me. Thanks anyway," you answered and fled to your room before they could argue with you. You didn't mind hunting or researching for a case but just randomly searching for stuff drove you nuts.

You closed the door behind you as you arrived back in your room. After putting your gun away, a flash of light caught your eye. You turned your head and realized it was light reflecting off the whistle where you'd dropped it on the bathroom floor.

You scooped it up and glanced between it and the door to your room. Crowley had literally shown up seconds after you blew it. That couldn't be a coincidence. Could it? Did the whistle summon him? You shoved the thought away as soon as you had it. If there was an artifact around that could do that, Crowley would have destroyed it ages ago.

But still... You examined the whistle, tempted to blow it again. Instead you shoved it in your pocket. This wasn't the place to experiment. You strapped on your knife and your gun before sliding on your jacket. You grabbed your keys and headed to the library.

"I'm going for a drive," you announced.

Your brothers didn't even glance up. They were used to you taking off at all hours just to drive around and clear your head. You turned and headed toward the garage without waiting for them to say anything.

"Be careful," Sam called out after you, making you smile.

Technically you were the oldest of the three of you, but they sure didn't act like it. You slipped behind the wheel of your Charger that was parked next to Baby. "All right, Sally," you said to your car as you pulled onto the road. "Let's go on an adventure."

A couple of miles down the road there was a spot you knew well. You could pull your car off the road and into the trees to remain relatively unseen. After you parked, you got out and walked a short distance into the trees.

You took a deep breath and blew on the whistle again. You waited for a few minutes, but nothing happened. You knew it was a stupid idea but you couldn't help feeling a little disappointed as you shoved the whistle back into your pocket. How cool would it have been to have Crowley at your beck and call?

"It was you," that familiar voice said from behind you.

You startled then turned quickly to face him. "Hello, Crowley."

He tilted his head as he looked you over. "You mind telling me how you managed to pull me here twice, love. It didn't feel like a normal summoning."

"New artifact," you told him as you pulled out the whistle.

His eyes widened as they fell on it. He stared at it for a long time before darting his gaze back up to you. He eyes shifted between you and the whistle several times before settling on you. "Where did you get that?" His voice was quiet, almost awed.

You gave him a cockeyed smile. "Craig's List."

He ran a hand down his face and across his mouth. "Do you know what that is?"

You shook your head. "Seller called it the Whistle of the Damned. Claimed it gave the user power over damned creatures. I thought it might summon hellhounds if I'm honest. I mean it is a dog whistle."

"No. It's not." His tongue darted out to moisten his lips as he closed the distance between the two of you. His eyes were now locked on the whistle. "May I?" he asked as he held out a hand.

You hesitated, afraid he'd take off with it. Which was really his prerogative you guessed but you were oddly reluctant to let it out of your possession.

"I'll give it back to you, love," he assured with a soft look on his face. "Truth be told, I can't think of anyone I'd rather have own it."

Your face heated as you handed over the whistle.

Crowley hummed as he turned it in his hand and examined it. "I haven't seen this in ages."

He looked back to you. If you didn't know better, you'd say he looked almost happy. "Can I take you somewhere?" he asked after a moment.

Your brothers would kill you if they ever found out, but you trusted Crowley. You nodded and placed your hand in the one he offered you. A moment later you found yourself in a lavish apartment. You sucked in a breath as you glanced around you in surprise.

Crowley led you out to a balcony overlooking the ocean and a twilight sky. "This is beautiful," you told him.

A table sat nearby, covered dishes awaiting you. He helped you into a chair before taking his own. He placed the whistle on the table and pushed it toward you. You looked between him and it before picking it up and putting it back in your pocket. You stripped off your jacket while he uncovered your plates. When he began to eat, you did the same. There were so many things you wanted to ask, but you were afraid none of this was real and you'd shatter the illusion.

"They almost had the name correct, but I suppose after centuries it's understandable that they'd get it wrong. Of course, the part they lost was the most important." He leaned back in his seat and sipped his wine. His eyes ran over you and your face heated again under his scrutiny. "The Whistle of the Beloved Damned sounds much less ominous, doesn't it?"

"What is it exactly?"

He pursed his lips. "A gift. From my mother. At least that's what she called it. Over the years I've thought otherwise. Though, I may actually have to thank her for this one now."

You tilted your head in question.

His low chuckle made a shiver run through you. "She made the whistle and sent it out into the world where it has passed from hand to hand. It has been searching for its owner for hundreds of years. Anyone that possessed it would feel an undeniable urge to pass it on. But they couldn't just get rid of it. If they did, it would return to them—bad luck and misfortune in tow. Getting worse every time until they gave it to another person."

You shifted in your seat. "But I don't want to get rid of it. Ever," you admitted in a quiet voice.

"That's because it is yours," he answered.

"What are you talking about?"

He sucked in a breath and straightened his spine as if bracing himself. "The whistle was designed to find my soulmate, Y/N. Only my true mate would be able to use it to call me to their side. A call I would be compelled to answer."

You froze. Crowley's soulmate? A million thoughts ran through your head. Yeah, you'd wanted him to notice you as more than the Winchester sister, but this?

His gaze dropped to his lap as he moistened his lips again. "I am sorry if you are disappointed, Y/N. Please understand, that I expect nothing from you. You are free to live your life as you please. I will not interfere."

"You said you were glad it was mine," you said as the thought occurred to you.

Crowley glanced up. "I did," he said though your words hadn't been a question.

The two of you locked gazes and the corner of your mouth curved into a smile, Crowley mirrored the movement. "We could have done this ages ago if you'd said something," you told him.

His brow lifted. "You mean..." he trailed off. "All that flirting was genuine?"

"I only do that with you. Drives Sam and Dean nuts," you confessed.

Crowley chuckled. "I imagine it does, love." He reached a hand across the table and you grasped it with yours. Warmth spread through you from the contact. He tugged you toward him until you moved around the table to sit in his lap. The kiss he gave you was slow, sweet and deep. You felt every bit of his love for you in that one gesture.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around you. "Can we just stay here?" you asked quietly, enjoying the peace that currently enveloped you.

"If you wish," he agreed before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "This is my apartment after all."

You pulled back to look at him with surprise. He shrugged. "I'll have to return to hell to do my job, but this could be our home. It's easy enough for me to pop in and out as needed."

You leaned toward him and kissed him once more. A gentle press of the lips this time. When you pulled back, there was only a breath of space left between you. "What if I need you and you aren't here?" you asked.

His smile was dazzling and you moved back to look at him in question. "You should know the answer to that, love. Just whistle."