A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches,
and loving favour rather than silver and gold.
-Proverbs 22:1
You're to Blame
This was a pointless, hopeless, worthless excercise – a lesson in futility. The instructions were vague where any were at all and never in her life had magic worked in her favour. It only ever pulled her further and further down – and yet here she was again...
She wrung her hands, looking around at the empty land she stood in and then at the small mound of items she had lain in the hole.
She was alone.
By choice, of course. None knew she had come out here and few would mention it if they noticed her absence. She was free to come and go as she pleased – to come out here and gather resources without question. It was refreshing.
All she needed was a spell – a tiny little thing and when had the voice inside her head taken on Rumplestiltskin's mannerisms?
She scowled. He would know the spell – could probably even perform it himself. But she couldn't go to him – couldn't bind herself to one of his dark deals. They were never as innocent as they appeared – always was some nefarious purpose working beyond his dues and she never trusted him. Couldn't trust him.
One of these days, she would pay too much – there would be no mercy.
She glanced down at the tattered papers she held.
He would only twist her words against her – trapping her and pushing her further back into retreat. She struck against him – but it seemed he was always laughing at her – mocking her. She still saw the teacher in him – the man so much wiser and stronger than she could ever be. But this? These papers and forgotten notes? This was something else. Much the same - but weaker. These, she could surely twist and use. These she could certainly use to her advantage.
She had to. Rumplestiltskin would give her no help.
She pushed the dirt back into the hole and patted it down before straightening up and looking around expectantly.
"I can say that it has been a very long time since this area code came up."
She spun around.
The man was standing there with his hands folded loosely before him, looking curiously around the landscape surrounding the crossroad.
She looked him over. "What are you wearing?"
His gaze snapped to her at her amused and bored tone. "Garments, Lady Regina – clothes." He took the edges of his jacket between his fingers and held them out to reveal the equally black waistcoat beneath. "Things created to keep men warm?" He dropped his jacket, brushing off some dust from his sleeve. "And I even dressed up for the occasion..."
She ignored what seemed to be a great amount of rambling. "What is your name?"
He finished brushing off his cuff and then slowly looked up. Staring at her for a moment, he abruptly swept into a deep bow. "Crowley, King of the Crossroads."
She looked him over again, this time with disdain. "You? A king?"
He glared at her. "This is a very good, serviceable suit! More functional than that thing." He gestured at the heavily structured gown she was wearing. "Sometimes less is more." He glanced over her costume again and grimaced.
"Your kingdom doesn't sound very...important."
"You're here, aren't you? I'd say it's pretty important to those that want it. Those that don't, don't know about it. Nice and efficient."
"But surely with more people knowing of your services -"
The light that suddenly flashed in his eyes was distinctly predatory, and she fell back from him a step. "My services have a way of getting known." He smirked. "You found out about it, even in the midst of all the 'happily ever afters'." He scowled, muttering something about debts and sending some sort of hound to collect them.
She began to wonder if it was possible to get something from this man, or if he was too mad to be of any use. Rumplestiltskin, at least, was aware of a deal to be made.
She straightened. "I have..." she reached for the right word. "I have summoned you to make a deal."
"Yes, I know. Figured it wasn't for the company." He shrugged. "Technically, you didn't summon me – you messed up half the stuff you did, I just came out of curiosity."
she stared at him, and then snapped her mouth shut. "Will you make a deal or not."
"Haven't asked me for one yet." His voice was slightly sing-song, and she hated it.
"I wish for the spell that will end all of the heroes' 'happy ever afters' – I want them to lose and to fail, to never find true love again."
"You are quite presumptuous."
"Can you do it or not?"
"Magic is a totally different paygrade – not mine." He thought for a moment. "I think you do know the king of that court though."
She grit her teeth and looked away.
"But..." His voice became slightly wheedling, "I can make a deal for that deal."
She looked back. "Two deals?"
He interlaced his fingers, as though preparing to lecture a student. "You want a spell to give you a happily ever after. I don't have it. Another does and you know this," He pointed at her. "You don't go to him. You dig out some creepy book and get that guy -" He pointed at himself, "That would be me – and you ask him for the deal." He tilted his head slightly, looking at her.
"If you don't have the spell then -"
"That's it? Nothing else?"
"I have no second or third plans – the spell was the only thing that would work."
"How about plan D," He muttered, rolling his eyes. "No wonder so many fairytales are French... Alright. I'll take some pity on you given it was a long trip to be left a total waste of time: make a deal with me to get the better of the guy that has the spell."
She sucked in a breath.
"Ah, and the brains come back online again!"
She glared at him, and he held his hands up in surrender. "Then I could ask for a deal ensuring that I get the spell from him safely? That he won't take advantage of me?"
"Perfectly legal."
She hesitated a moment, and then drew herself up. "Deal."
He nodded in acquiesence and pulled out a contract, letting it roll out to its full length. "Would you like to read the fine print first?"
She stared at the feet of tiny words. "What is the price for this?"
"Your soul, in ten years time from today."
She looked up in confusion. "My...soul?"
"Yes, your soul. Eternal being. Part of person going to heaven or hell – why am I trying to explain this to a bloody fairytale character..."
"That is all?"
He nodded.
She looked around for a pen. "How can I sign this?"
"Ah." He smirked, and she tensed as he casually rolled up the scroll. "Crossroad deals are sealed in a kiss."
Her mouth feel open. "A kiss?"
"Yes. I'd be happy to ex-"
"I am well aware of what a kiss is, Crowley."
That strange light didn't fade. "Good, we all understand each other." He held the contract out. "Not necessary – you can still walk away."
She sneered and strode forward, pulling him to her. He tasted like ash and tears and sulfer and she gagged when he finally pulled away, leaving the contract in her hands.
He winked and then disappeared in a column of red smoke.
As she tried to wipe the bitter taste of hell from her mouth, she wondered if she wouldn't have been better off to simply trust her luck with Rumplestiltskin from the start.
I Played my Part
It took her longer to find him this time. She had done the same as she had before, but it didn't work. She remembered what he had said – she had been doing it half wrong? - and she had to find another way. Without the allure of another world, she couldn't expect the 'king' to answer her, and she would not speak to another.
"Well, well, well – Lady Regina, I presume."
She spun to face him again, almost falling back in shock when she saw him the same as he did that night at the crossroads. "The spell was broken. I have failed again – you said-"
"Ah." He held up a finger to interrupt her. "You only asked for the getting of the spell and preventing Rumplestiltskin from taking advantage of you in that transaction."
"That wasn't what I meant!"
He shrugged, tugging the sleeves of his suit down. "But that was the deal."
She grit her teeth shut, wishing she could scream. "You are a little, insignificant commander of a few-"
"King of Hell."
she stopped for a moment. "I beg your pardon?"
"I'm the King of Hell now – defeated Lucifer, got rid of a few usurpers..." He gestured dismissively. "Typical court politics."
"What difference does that make?"
"It means that I'm not really insignificant any more" He shrugged. "You sealed the deal – no refunds and no extensions."
"What does it even matter to you?"
"Think of it as a...long term investment." He glanced around the spacious foyer she had summoned him in. "Seems you made one too." He rubbed his hand together and looked back to her. "Lots of silver and gold."
"There are more important things than simple riches!"
"Is there? The majority doesn't think so."
"There is reputation, and honour, and family, and..." She turned her head away. "It was supposed to be a happy ending. For all of us."
"I see. It was perfect though."
"What?"
"It worked out perfectly! You got a happy story, they got normal lives, and I get more souls." He straightened his suitcoat. "It went like clockwork."
"Not for me!"
"That's what you get – working with a demon." He smirked. "You'll work around it somehow – you've still got several years left on your deal."
"That's it? I have to pay my soul for something like this – that went wrong?"
He shrugged. "We try to be efficient in Hell, but there was some management issues. Can't take responsibility for the corruption before my time."
"You are a cold, soulless-" she bit her words off with a frustrated cry as he grinned. "I hope you're satisfied."
"Me? I'm a salesman – nothing fancy." He glanced over her. "But that is an accurate description."
She turned away, wrapping her arms around herself. "Leave, please."
"So soon? But Darling, we haven't done anything yet."
She glared at him.
"Fine, fine – your loss. My services are always available." He tilted his head to the side and then grabbed her chin and pulled her forward to kiss her. When he pulled back, he bowed to her once before disappearing in his column of red smoke.
She dragged the back of her hand across her lips, gagging on the taste of sulfer.
The room reeked of it and she almost looked for a way to clean the air – but then she remembered that there was no one here to find it besides her.
"Shot through the heart, and you're to blame – you give Love a bad name.
I played my part and you played your game – you give Love a bad name."
AN: Crack!fic as far as I understand it – NOT meant to be serious. This was written after I sort of challenged myself to make wallpapers that a friend DIDN'T like, and the story that came of it... Well, I took her two least favourite characters, from her least favourite series, stuck them together with as close to an affair as I could manage and...voila! Oh, this could definitely be written seriously – but that's no fun. So while this perhaps isn't horrid – it's not meant to be serious. The timelines for the King of Hell and the first series of OUAT are right though – I'm pretty sure that he ruled Hell for more than one series... But I've never seen SPN – only Canton Everett Delaware III and other clips. And OUAT generally infuriates me. So... Sorry. I just wanted to see if I could do this. The song is Bon Jovi's because I enjoy it and because it fit the twisted story I had in my head. 3-21-2016