Mad, bad and dangerous to know.
No words could be better found to describe the two Winchesters, Crowley mused, watching attentively as the brothers walked off, not bothering even to look back at the demon, supremely confident that Crowley wouldn't roast their asses as they went.
And they were especially mad, bad, and dangerous to know when you looked askance at one of them, the other ready to tear your head off without a second thought.
At first glance, they looked harmless, dressed in their worn jeans and countrified plaid shirts, their handsome faces seemingly there on purpose to detract one from the danger they posed.
Yet, Crowley enjoyed their company, even if he knew he was walking a tightrope each time he encountered them. He could never be sure if they'd whip out the demon-killing knife and end him for good.
:
With a sigh and a shrug, he transported himself to his headquarters where idiot demon minions would already be lining up to ask for privileges which he'd quash without consideration.
At least he got some pleasure from sizzling their stupid butts.