The Red Headed Pixie Demon:

Crowley didn't have time to glance at the notice board this morning.

He was already twenty minutes late for work and still had a five minute jog to the nearest bus stop. This was the second time this week that he had forgotten to set his alarm and his boss had already let him go with a warning. He'd said "One more time and your outta here kid. No more second chances." So he was completely oblivious to the fact that his landlord had left about three notices on his board throughout the week.

When he finally showed up to work, the place was closed, "What? It would have been nice of you to call…oh-" Crowley had just received the voicemail on his piece of crap phone and groaned, rubbing his temple. He glanced around before shaking his head to himself and grinning. He was going to go back home, pour himself a glass of scotch, and relax on the couch…or so he thought.

He climbed back up the steps to the small three bedroom two bath apartment in Manhattan then slammed the door shut behind him. He still didn't notice the notice board. Crowley was too busy making a beeline for the kitchen to even notice the extra jacket hanging on the coat rack. Or the empty red mug resting by the full sink.

In fact, the first thing he noticed that was out of the ordinary since he walked into the living room with a glass of scotch in one hand and the TV remote in the other was the fact that the room was clean. No clothes hanging over the back of the couch, no plates covered in dried food covering the coffee table, and no bits of broken bottles by the walls.

"Huh," he shrugged, brushing it off for him deciding to clean sometime in a drunken stupor, it wouldn't be the first time.

Crowley turned on the TV and dropped down onto the couch with a grunt before taking a swig of his drink and leaning back, crossing his ankles on the now clean coffee table. He was just about to take another drink when something crossed his peripheral. He glanced up from his boring daytime TV and froze.

"Hey, get your feet off the table. I JUST cleaned that," she said shoving his feet to the ground.

Crowley's feet dropped and he stood, nearly spilling his drink in the process, "Who the hell are you?"

She was about 5'2", had shoulder length fire engine red hair, light grey eyes, was really pale, and looked really pissed until she smiled. She tilted her head and pointed to the table, "I'm the pissed off girl who just cleaned off that coffee table and threw all your clothes into a nice big pile on the floor in front of your door. "

Crowley stared at her for a second before saying slowly, "So…why are you cleaning my living room?"

Her smiled dropped and was replaced with a scowl when she pointed at the notice board behind him, "Because you're filthy and this is OUR living room"

"Our?" he narrowed his eyes before turning to look at the board. When he looked, he saw that there were several notes saying that a new tenant was moving in to the apartment, "Whoa nononononono…no way. You can't live here. This is my place. And hey, I'm not filthy."

"No, it's Flynn's place…you know, the guy that's renting a room out to you? And yeah, you are…I mean come on. You had a pair of underwear shoved between the cushions and a bottle of scotch in the medicine cabinet" she said crossing her arms. When he looked at her blankly, she rolled her eyes and said slowly, "I'm your new roommate Archer. And if this," she gestured to the coffee table, "is going to become a problem, I'll get rid of all the furniture in here 'cept for the TV…okay?"

Crowley frowned, "No…you can't do that. This is Flynn's furniture."

"Oh, so you do remember him. Good. Now you should also know that in the contract that you signed when you started living here, Flynn said that we could get rid of the furniture if we wanted because it was all crappy anyway. So I suggest that if you want to continue having a place to kick back, relax, and drink booze, then keep it clean. I'll be upstairs," she finished, turning on a heel and disappearing up the stairs.

Crowley continued to stare at the place she had just been with a confused frown, "What the hell?" He again glanced at the notice board, then back to the empty spot before narrowing his eyes and shaking his head, "BITCH!"

Let's just say that Crowley didn't sleep very well that night with the thought that a crazy red headed pixie demon slept in the room across the hall.

The next morning Crowley woke to the sweet sound of silence. No stupid alarm telling him that he needed to get up and go to work because it was finally Saturday.

He kicked off the sheets and slid off of the bed to the cold wood floor. He felt good, he vaguely remembered dreaming about a crazy red head last night, but he felt good. He had everything going for him this morning. The most he had planned for today was relaxing on the couch with a scotch, taking a nice bath with a scotch, and then going out later tonight to drink some more scotch.

He opened his bedroom door to make his way downstairs but tripped over the 'nice big pile' of clothes in front of his door and banged his elbow on the doorframe, "Oh yeah." Yep, he had everything going for him this morning.

He scowled at the door across the hall with such hate that if he thought hard enough, he swore he could probably burn a great big hole through to the other side. Now that would definitely piss her off. But instead, he clenched his jaw and made his way to the kitchen. There was no way she was going to screw up his plans for a second time.

When Crowley got to the kitchen and saw that it was clean, he let out a small growl. He opened all of the cupboards and took out every single mug and glass, setting them on the table after filling them all up with water. Then he grabbed his bottle of scotch and walked into the living room, kicking up the rug in the hall between the rooms and knocking the coat rack over, "Whoops."

He was on his third episode of Antique Roadshow when he finally heard the bedroom door open. He muted the TV and listened while she padded down the stairs and into the kitchen.

He counted to three, "Really?!"

Crowley grinned then unmuted the TV, taking a swig from his bottle.

He heard the sound of the cupboards slamming over the announcer on the TV and chuckled to himself, "Good morning!"

A week went by and Crowley was still coming up with ways to piss her off.

He'd already pulled down all of the curtains, turned on all of the lights, opened every window, dirtied every glass or mug, left the fridge open, left the sink running, kicked his pile of clothes down the hall sending bits of clothing everywhere, and was just about to shoved his twelfth sock under her door when he heard the front door open.

Crowley quickly shoved it under then ran down the stairs to meet her at the door, "Oh, Hi."

She still had her hand on the handle when she looked up at him, "Uh…hi?"

He cleared his throat, "Where did you go?"

Archer narrowed her eyes, "Um…out…why?"

Crowley shook his head, "Just wondering…well, good luck," he said quickly before stepping around her and out to the street.

"Wait, good luck with what?"

"That is it!" yelled Archer when Crowley got back two hours later.

"Hello beautiful," he said shutting the door too gently. He peeled off his coat and hung it on the rack, or he tried anyway. The damn thing just kept missing and falling to the floor, "Damn thing must be broken."

Archer came around the corner then with a bunch of socks in her fist, "What have you done now?"

Crowley looked up at her and frowned , "Why do you have my socks...oh...yeah," he started laughing so hard he nearly smacked into her when he walked up to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, "You look really nice tonight. You know that? That sweater, it brings out the grey in your eyes. "

Archer shoved him back with a frown, "Are you drunk?"

Crowley ignored her and walked further into the hall, "The place looks terrible."

"Yeah, all thanks to you," she said tossing the socks at him. She walked away toward the kitchen to retrieve something while Crowley made his way to the living room.

When he got there and noticed that something was off, he froze in the doorway and had to grip the frame to keep standing, "Where the hell is all the furniture?"

Archer returned from the kitchen with a small wooden chair from the dinner table, "I warned you Crowley, but you didn't listen." She set the chair in the middle of the room and turned back to him, "Maybe you should listen next time." She gave him a warm smile and patted his shoulder on the way out.

"No...no you didn't mean that. Where did you put it all...my couch and coffee table? Hey," he whined turning to follow her but ending up smacking into the doorframe.

He heard a small giggle from the living room and yelled, "Hey! S'not funny. Where is my stuff?"

When he got to the kitchen, Archer was just sitting down at the table with a plate of spaghetti with a big smile on her face, "It's hidden."

"All of it?" he asked voice rising.

"Yep," she returned taking a bite of her meal.

"But...but I was just down the street!" he mumbled.

She shrugged, "Yeah, so?"

"Who helped you?" he asked slouching down in the chair across from her.

"Um…no one," she replied, taking another bite of her meal.

He looked up at her with a frown, "Then how'd you get it all out"

"It wasn't hard," she said looking down at her plate.

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled standing up too quickly. He went dizzy and everything started spinning.

If Archer hadn't caught him, he would have smacked his head on the table, "Alright, bedtime for you mister."

"I don't…feel too good," he stuttered, grabbing onto her.

"It's okay, I gotcha," she helped him up the stairs to his room quietly. When he reached his bed, he fell forward onto his stomach across the mattress.

She sighed and pushed his feet up onto the bed with the rest of him and was just about to leave the room when he groaned, "Don't leave me. Please?"

Archer frowned and walked back over to the bed, "Why, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to be alone. Can you at least stay until I fall asleep?" he mumbled turning to look at her in the dark.

"Um…I don't know Crowley," she replied, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Please?"

She bit her lip and looked at him for a moment before finally nodding, "Fine, just until you fall asleep."

Crowley smiled and shifted to make room while she climbed onto the mattress beside him. They didn't say anything for a while and Archer thought that he'd fallen asleep. She glanced at him only to see that he was watching her quietly.

"What," she asked a little nervously.

"Hmm…oh nothing," he finally looked away and shut his eyes.

Archer looked away too feeling a little awkward and before she knew it she was falling asleep.

"A dark angel that follows you
Waiting for your last breath
That final clue

Swooping down
To take your lost soul
Dragging you down to the
Fiery hole

Your life is over
This is the end
Say goodbye
To your feathery friend."

Crowley wakes up slowly the next morning and pulls the warmth closer. His dream has left him feeling cold and alone. He feels the mattress shift slightly beside him and yawns. When he opens his eyes, he finally notices that he's not actually alone. Archer is curled up against his chest with his arms wrapped around her. He's about to release her and jump out of bed when she sighs in her sleep and smiles. Crowley watches her for a few minutes just taking in every part of her as she slept. The way the sunlight shone off her bright red hair and made her pale skin glow. How she looked so innocent and not so grumpy when she slept. He liked this Archer. And she was so warm in his arms. He didn't want to let her go, to wake her up.

But he didn't have too; she was waking up on her own. She shifted again beside him and stretched, her small frame barely moving beside him. When she opened her eyes, she glanced up at him and smiled, which made Crowley smile in return. But the smile didn't last long, because she realized where she was and frowned, pulling away from him and climbing off the bed, "Dammit."

Crowley smirked and stretched again before climbing out of bed as well, "Good morning to you too."

He looked up to see her glaring at him and his smile grew wider, "Look, I asked you to stay with me, not sleep with me."

Archer stared at him further, "Don't even Crowley. It's not like I wanted to sleep with you. It was an accident."

Crowley chuckled and shook his head, "I think you did it on purpose. You thought that you could take advantage of me while I slept didn't you?"

Archer rolled her eyes, "I don't have time for this. I'll be back later. And uh…shouldn't you be at work?"

Crowley frowned and glanced at the clock by the bed, "Shit, I'm late." He quickly pulled off his crumpled shirt and tossed it on the bed then looked around for a clean one, "Have you seen my shirts?" he asked glancing at her in the doorway.

Archer raised a brow and pointed to the hallway floor, "You kicked them down the hall remember?"

Crowley sighed and grabbed her shoulders on the way out the door, "Thanks babe."

Archer rolled her eyes again and walked across the hall to her room to change and shut the door.

Once Crowley found a clean shirt and rinsed in the sink, he ran down the stairs yelling, "Don't wait up sweetie."

"Shut up!" yelled Archer in return as he ran out the door.

Crowley made it to the shop just three minutes late to find his boss locking up, "Hey boss…what's going on?"

His boss, a guy a few years older than him who had inherited the place from his father, looked up with sad eyes, "Shutting the place down. I'm not making any money from it. Sorry Crowley, I would have told you sooner, but you never answer your phone. I called you this morning but no one answered."

Crowley pulled out his phone and groaned, "I'm sorry boss, crappy phone. And I've been a little distracted lately. If not for Archer, I wouldn't have made it even this early."

"Archer? You're new roommate? I thought she was a pain in the ass?"

"Well, sure…well, she was. I just like messing with her is all," Crowley said shoving his phone back in his pocket.

"Yeah okay, well I'm really sorry about this. Listen, because it was such short notice, I'll pay you for the next two weeks, then I might have a job for you at my cousin's dinner down on Main. That is if you can get up early enough for it. Maybe you should get Archer to remind you," he joked.

Crowley agreed and they said they're goodbyes. By the time he got back to the apartment, Archer was already gone, so that left Crowley with the whole place to himself.

It was the next day at seven o'clock when Crowley started getting worried. She'd said she would be back later, but never mentioned when that was. Maybe she was at a friend's house…or staying with her boyfriend. Did she even have a boyfriend? It was none of his business.

Crowley tried to keep himself busy, but having no job or any money, he got bored fast. Two days went by and still no Archer. Not that he cared…right? He'd already slept in till noon, then spent a few hours on the couch, tried to read a book, then finally tried to pass the time with picking up every piece of clothing in the hall. He was bored out of his mind when the third day came around.

He'd promised himself that he would give her a few more hours before he started making phone calls.

The clock told him it was 6:30. Just when Crowley was about to pull out his phone, he heard the front door open. He sighed and put his phone away before heading to the front hall, "What happened to coming back later? It's been three days."

When he got to the hall and saw that it wasn't actually Archer, he froze, "Who the hell are you?"

The man that was standing in the hall, shut the door behind him quietly then took a step forward, "I'm one of Archer's friends," he said in a smooth voice, "Is she back yet?"

Crowley suddenly got a very bad feeling about this guy and frowned, taking a slow step back, "Depends…why are you here?"

The man paused in the hall and narrowed his eyes, "She's not here. This means you're all alone…what a shame."

Crowley took another step back, "I think you should leave…now."

The man shook his head, "Ah ah ah…not until you tell me where she went."

"I don't know, she just said she'd be back later. Now leave or I'm calling the cops," said Crowley reaching in his pocket.

The man smiled, "Now I wouldn't do that if I where you. Not if you want to keep your hand anyway."

Crowley froze, "W-what's that supposed to mean?"

Suddenly the man had Crowley pinned to the wall with a knife hovering above his wrist, "It means that you'd better tell me where she is, or you're going to lose a hand."

Crowley stared at the knife with wide eyes, "I told you…I don't know where she went. She didn't say."

The man growled and his eyes turned black, "I don't believe you."

Crowley's eyes widened even further as he stared at the black eyes, "What the hell are you?"

The thing narrowed his eyes and lowered the knife, "You mean to tell me she didn't warn you? Did she even tell you what she was?"

Crowley shook his head frantically.

The thing laughed and released his hold on Crowley, "Well this is just super. Oh I'm going to have so much fun with you."

Crowley quickly moved out of reach and ran to the door, but the man was already there. Crowley gasped and turned to run to the back door in the kitchen, but was stopped again with the grinning black eyed man, "What do you want?"

The man's grin deepened as he took a step forward, cornering Crowley again, "Do you know what demons are capable of Crowley?"

"H-how do you know my name?" asked Crowley shakily.

"Oh I know everything about you Crowley. Now hold still…this will only hurt for a sec," the man took a final step toward him and his grin flashed in the large knife he was holding.

But he never got much further than that because there was a noise that sounded like a big bird had just landed and someone was suddenly standing in front of him. And that someone was short, had bright red hair, and looked really pissed.

Archer knocked the knife out of the demons hand with a wave of her own, "Not this time Samson. I saw him first."

Samson glanced at the knife that had been knocked out of his hand then back up at her, "I didn't come here for the boy, but he'll be a nice little extra when I'm finished with you."

Archer chuckled lightly and glanced over her shoulder at Crowley, who was staring at them both with wide eyes, "Oh come now Crow, and I thought you were tougher than this. He's not even a strong demon." She looked back at Samson with the same smirk she gave Crowley, "Let's just get this over with. My show starts at 7 and I don't want to miss it."

"They told me about you. You like to live the mundane life. Live down here with the humans. They say you even like to date them and sleep with them," with this he looked over her shoulder at Crowley and winked.

Archer sighed and Crowley could practically feel her roll her eyes, "Enough with the foreplay and try to kill me already."

Samson smiled then, before Crowley could blink an eye, threw a punch toward her.

The next few seconds didn't really make sense to Crowley as he watched Samson's fist punch the air where Archer had been standing. She was now behind Samson and was shoving a knife, similar to the one Samson dropped, into his back. Samson's skin seemed to glow or flash as if being electrocuted before he dropped down to the ground with a thud. Archer managed to kneel down to pull the knife out of his back and wipe the blood onto her jeans before Crowley realized he was sliding.

She looked up and moved just in time to catch him at the shoulders, "Hey there mister. You okay?"

Crowley stared at the body for a few more seconds before looking up to her, "Y-you killed h-him."

Archer watched him carefully and shook her head, "He was already dead. I just sent him back to Hell."

Crowley swallowed and bit his lip, "W-what are you?"

Archer seemed relieved for some reason and smiled, "I'm not going to hurt you Crowley…I'm an angel."

And that was the night that everything changed for Crowley.

Archer spent the next few hours trying to explain to Crowley what had just happened. She said that Samson was a demon she had once encountered in Kansas. She then tried to explain how she was an angel and even cut her hand to show him how fast she healed. She told him that Samson was right when he said that she liked to live with humans and even told him about all the different families she has stayed with over the last several decades. She told him that she had sort of been cut off from Heaven but wasn't a fallen angel because she never fell. She told him that she was only trying to make a life of her own and didn't want to be bossed around like the soldier she was meant to be.

Crowley listened quietly except for when he had questions. He didn't understand why it was okay that he wasn't scared of her or why it was okay that she could appear where ever she wanted, whenever she wanted. For the brief few seconds that she disappeared to dispose of the body, Crowley drank nearly three shots of whiskey in a row.

When Archer got back and noticed Crowley about to down the whole bottle she frowned and pulled it from his grasp, "That's enough. You're going to drink yourself to death."

"That sounds like a good plan," mumbled Crowley standing quickly and nearly falling over. He'd done it again, only this time Archer wasn't quick enough. He fell sideways and hit the ground hard.

An immense pain started in his arm and went all the way up to his head. He heard Archer call out his name once or twice but couldn't reply. And the next thing he knew, all the lights where going out…or maybe he'd just passed out.

The first thing he notices when he wakes up the next morning is that the pain is gone. The second is that he wasn't alone. Archer was lay beside him again with an arm draped over his chest and her face buried in the pillows.

He watched her for a few brief seconds before whispering, "Well now I can get used to this."

She moaned into the pillows then suddenly lifted her head, "You're awake." She smiled shortly then sat up and away from him, "Sorry. I…I did it again didn't I?"

"What?" asked Crowley sitting up slowly.

Archer bit her lip and shook her head, "Nothing, never mind. How is your arm?"

Crowley raised a brow and glanced at his arm, "Fine I guess, why?"

Archer frowned, "Don't you remember breaking it last night when you fell?"

"I broke my arm?" he asked shocked. He glanced at it again and flexed his arm then frowned at her, "But it doesn't even hurt."

"That's because it's not broken anymore. I healed it when you passed out," she returned relaxing a little, "And your head? Does that feel okay too?"

Crowley lifted his hand to his head and nodded, "Yeah…wait what happened to my head?"

"You smacked it pretty hard last night. It's a wonder you didn't get a concussion," she sighed in relief and smiled, "I'm glad you're okay."

There was an awkward moment of silence as they stared at each other and smiled before Crowley cleared his throat, "So uh…you never did say why you slept in here again."

Archer's smile dropped quickly and was replaced with a frown and a blush, "I uh…I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure you where okay."

She turned to climb off the bed but Crowley leaned forward and grabbed her hand, "No…wait. I don't mind…honestly. I uh…it's nice waking up and knowing I'm not alone."

Archer froze at his touch then glanced over her shoulder, "You…you don't mind?"

Crowley smiled lightly and shook his head then gently pulled her back onto the bed. Archer seemed cautious at first, then when she realized that he meant it, smiled and climbed into bed beside him.

Crowley pulled her close and looked down at her lips, "Is this okay? I mean I won't be smote or anything will I?"

Archer laughed and shook her head, "No. This is okay."

Crowley smiled and bent closer, an inch away from their lips, "Good. You know now I'm going to have to start calling you something other than red headed pixie demon."

Archer narrowed her eyes, "Why did you call me that?"

"Well that was before I knew you were an angel…how does 'feathers' sound?" asked Crowley giving her a smirk.

Archer laughed again and bent closer, "It's perfect…now shut up and kiss me already."

FIN.