*A/N - This is my first story so please, be kind. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Flames should be avoided.*

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Supernatural or any of the characters from the show. I only own my own characters. I'm not making any money from this so please don't sue me.

Crowley sat down heavily and sighed. Reaching for the bottle of Craig, he closed his eyes and wearily shook his head. Thing were not going according to plan. Hell was a lot harder to run than he anticipated. All of his planning and scheming was supposed to lead to a promotion. King of Hell was supposed to be fun. At least that's what he had been banking on.

Now he had to keep an eye on everything or it would all fall apart. What he told the Winchesters was true. Demons are idiots. Now with the Winchesters, those sodding meat sacks, he was constantly torn between wanting to rip them some new orifices and being impressed at their durability.

Taking a sip of the amber-colored liquid, he snapped his fingers and the large stone fireplace roared to life illuminating the dark room that he was taking refuge in. A whimper from behind brought Crowley back from his introspection.

Setting down his glass and turning, he walked over to the young couple that he was "borrowing" the home from. Standing a few steps away he glanced over to the man on the floor. Barely breathing, blood dripping from assorted cuts and purple bruises forming, the blonde man was going anywhere soon. Noticing movement in the corner Crowley focused his attention on the female. Trying to make herself as small as possible in the darkness was a frightened woman.

With deceptive slowness Crowley moved toward the woman. Unable to stop from flinching, she clumsily tried to move away.

"Shhh, there dear. No need for that." He softly said. "I think that we understand who is in charge here. As long as everyone behaves, there doesn't have to be any more unpleasantness. I just want to have a peaceful night and I'll be gone in the morning."

"Please." The young woman rasped. "Just take what you want and go. Whatever it is, just take it."

With a burst of energy, the woman tried to stand. Pitching forward, Crowley caught her out of reflex. With what he knew was more force than necessary, his hands tightened on her shoulders. Unable to keep another whimper quiet the woman put up a token struggle. Crowley could see that between the fear and the concussion that he knew she had, all of the woman's energy was drained to the breaking point.

The demon in him grinned sadistically in triumph. Fear was a powerful aphrodisiac to demons, and it was like ambrosia to him at the moment. Something he was going to savor. After weeks of running and fighting and having to stay five steps ahead of everyone and everything gunning for him, he was tired and more angry than he let on. Crowley was itching for something or someone to lash into...and damned if he was not going to get it.

Whirling her around, he schooled his face into a more subtle look of contentment. "Ducky, you should be careful what you wish for."

Before the woman could protest, he was pushing her down into one of the two chairs by the fireplace. A slight motion of his fingers and the other chair was conveniently placed in front of her. She tucked her feet under and once again tried to make herself smaller. Her mind instinctively recognizing the dangerous predator that he was.

Sitting back down with his glass magically back in hand, Crowley took a moment to savor the smooth burn as the scotch made it's way down his throat. Adjusting his jacket, Crowley studied the woman struggling to appear calmer than she really was. Once of his gifts was reading people, that's what fueled his rise in the hierarchy of the cross-roads demons. Of course, he had had natural talent when he was human, but it was supercharged once he became a demon.

Deal after deal forged at the cross-roads, and each one made by desperate people not thinking through what they were getting themselves into. Hell, even he had made a deal once. Once the deal was made and the clock started ticking, then regret usually set in, desperation, panic, paranoia and fear. All due to greed, revenge, or simple amorality.

Once the deal was made, there was no turning back. As much as demons teased with the promise of the return of a soul, no one ever, ever, broke their contract. He continued to observe the young woman huddled in the chair across from him, he searched for something, the spark of what he could use to tempt her into damnation. Finding what he needed, he turned to the fire to hide the smirk that he couldn't help wearing. This was going to be a cake-walk.

He turned back to the woman only marginally surprised to find her watching him. Leaning forward and setting the now empty glass of scotch down, he met her eyes. After a brief moment, she looked down.

"Now there, dear, I believe that we can come to some sort of arrangement here that will be to our mutual satisfaction." He drawled, letting his natural roughness come out a bit in his tone. "I'm not in the habit of taking things, I prefer to bargain for them. Now, I'm sure you have some questions."

The woman cleared her throat, unsure of his intentions. "Oh dear, where are my manners?" Crowley interrupted. "I'm sure you would like something to drink before we begin, am I right?" The woman nodded slowly, thrown by his sudden charitable gesture. He smiled and snapped his fingers, a carafe of water and a glass materialized on the table next to the scotch. The woman's eyes widened Crowley stood and stepped over to the table. Pouring himself another glass of scotch as well as the promised glass of water, he smirked again.

Schooling his face back into a more soothing expression, he turned and leaned down to hand the glass to the woman. Taking it with trembling hands, she took a hesitant sip. Moving his chair even closer to hers, Crowley leaned back and crossing his legs assumed a deceptively relaxed pose.

"Feeling better there, dear?"

Holding the glass in both hands, she spoke softly,"Yes, thank you. Um, Mr..."

"Call me Crowley."

"Ok, um. Thank you Mr. Crowley."

"Just Crowley, thanks."

She took another drink of the water. "Thank you Crowley for the water. Um, so, why are you being so nice to me?"

Crowley smiled, this time he let his predatory nature show through. His smile was all teeth and his eyes caught the flickering light of the fireplace.

"Well now, it goes a little something like this."