A/N: Part 1 of a series that could go on forever. Hellhounds are loosely based of the interpretation of them from an artist on tumblr. Thank you Gorlassar for your beautiful and inspiring Crobby artwork. Enjoy!

~Alorev

"I have a present for you." Crowley was grinning, hands held behind his back and eyes bright as he shifted anxiously.

Bobby's eyes narrowed as he looked up from the thick, leather bound book on his lap. It wasn't like he wasn't used to Crowley popping in unannounced. He pushed the book onto the desk, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood and moved around the desk to lean against the front. "Do you? And good morning to you too."

Crowley shifted nervously again. "Yes, I do. Put your glasses on? Please darling?"

Bobby immediately raised an eyebrow in suspicion and slowly raised the holy fire scorched glasses to his face, the glasses Crowley had given to him a few months after they'd begun being together. "Am I gonna regret this?"

He slid the glasses on anyways and pushed off the desk to step toward Crowley, shoving his hands in his pockets. It was always fun to put the glasses on and see Crowley's tail and wings and horns and how they reacted in certain instances. The Crossroads demon's wings were fluttering excitedly, tail wrapped around his leg self-consciously and horns fixed in an upright position. Crowley grinned at him and took his hands out from behind his back. In his arms was a squirming mass of black fur barely bigger than Bobby's hand. Four red eyes blinked up at him curiously and Bobby felt his heart melt as two tails thumped against the chest of Crowley's impeccably pressed suit.

"No."

Crowley's wings drooped but he kept his expression neutrally hopeful. "Please sweetheart? She's one of Growley's pup and she's absolutely darling."

"I can't have a hellhound 'round here with hunters comin' through Crowl's." Bobby shook his head and tried to harden himself.

"But Roobeert." Crowley pouted. "You need the company and she'll take whatever commands you give her. She'll be great protection when she gets bigger."

"No." Bobby attempted to make it sound resolute.

"She'll replace the pup that whore Meg killed?" Crowley looked like he was bracing himself for Bobby's blow of rejection and Bobby knew it.

There was absolutely no way he could say no to both his lovers and the hellpuppy's wide, pleading eyes. For such a professional, business man-like demon, Crowley could pull off that look almost as well as Sam.

"First, Rumsfeld was a proper dog and he was male. Second, fine."

Crowley's leathery wings jumped happily, one of the few indicators as to his true mood. "Well then, meet your other Daddy pup."

He shoved the hellpup into Bobby's arms and Bobby had no choice but to take her. She clambered over him, barking excitedly and licking his face with her slobbery tongue.

"You need to name her, once you do she'll listen to only you or anyone you tell her to listen to, which I hope, dearest, would be me." Crowley pressed close against Bobby's side, scratching behind the hellhound's ears. "And see. I told you she was just darling."

"I can't believe I'm doing this…" Bobby sighed, wrapping his free arm around Crowley's waist, idly reaching up afterwards to rub the spot between his wings that made Crowley turn to putty in his hands. "Uh...can't I just call it hellspawn?"

"Her, Robert, her." Crowley sighed but settled his head on Bobby's shoulder with a pleased rumble. "And no you may not."

Bobby sighed and let the pup snuggle into his chest with a long yawn, tongue lolling out. "'lright. You said she was to replace Rumsfeld. Panetta sounds like a girls name right?"

Crowley made a face and rolled his eyes. "You can't name all your dogs after American Secretaries of Defense."

"Like hell I can't, ain't that right Panetta? 'Sides, you named one of your dogs after yourself." Bobby lifted the dog up so they were eye to eye and she barked happily.

"Oh for the love of all that is sinful…" Crowley threw his hands in the air, heading toward Bobby's kitchen. "Where did I hide that bloody bottle of Craig?"

Bobby grinned at the hellhound, letting Panetta squirm so her front paws were on his shoulders. "Since I'm obviously not gettin' a choice in this, might as well wake the best of it. Hey?"

Panetta yipped at him and Bobby chuckled.

"Hey, Crowls?" How do I know when I gotta feed 'er or put 'er out?"

Crowley stopped in the midst of pouring himself a glass of Craig. He finished pouring after a moment and then came back into the study. "Hell hounds eat meat darling. And you could just put her out now."

The attempt at subtlety was lost on Bobby, who was now sitting on the floor and trying to keep Panetta from chewing on his boot laces. "Crowley, she's just a pup. She can't go outside all on her own. She's too little to be out there for too long an' she don' look like she's gotta go out anyways."

"Robert." Crowley sighed and downed his drink. "She's a hellhound. She can survive just about anything. Now would you please put her out?"

"Crowley." Bobby's gaze snapped up momentarily and there was a moment of hope before it became obvious that Bobby wasn't clueing into his fanned out wings or upright tail and posture. "Didja want me to take 'er or not?"

Crowley rolled his eyes and walked forward. "I did. But now…" He knelt in front of Bobby and Panetta capturing Bobby's chin in one hand and bringing their lips together. He whispered softly, seductively. "Now, I want you to put her outside."

Bobby stood up without speaking and Crowley grinned when the back door opened and closed with a quick order about staying in the yard and not attacking anyone.

Bobby came back and hauled Crowley up, pulling him toward the bedroom.