What really happened before Crowley took the picture...
..a supernatural scene, as witnessed only by the two main characters and therefore sealed inside their minds, hearts and souls forever.
Bobby swallowed hard.
„My soul!"
Crowley watched the old grouch scratch his beard. The rasping sound was oddly familiar. He wondered how Bobby would react if he ever found out about Crowley´s secret little sneaking tours.
„Do you really think I´m that stupid, Crowley? A deal with you aint gonna happen, you filthy bastard!"
Crowley sighed. Inwardly. His face showed the usual tired `don´t bore me with your insults, lowly human´ - expression.
„Look, Bobby..." he said it with this sneering voice, managing to put loads of sarcasm in the few syllables.
„It´s easy. It´s so easy even an old – how do you put it ever so precisely – Idjit like you might understand it."
Bobby´s blood pressure was rising in a way he could actually feel it. He bit his tongue so hard he could taste blood. No. He would NOT give this smug smartass demon the satisfaction of getting out of control. The boys needed him. They needed THIS. He could swallow down his pride for them.
„It never ain´t easy with you guys", he grumbled instead, glaring at the sneering Crowley, who had obviously found a spec on his impeccably clean sleeve.
„Are you done with the ranting, old man ?"
Crowley´s eyebrows crawled up his front. He looked incredibly arrogant. Bobby´s hands were balled to tight fists in his pockets. YOU CAN DO THIS!
Of course it was „easy". In the `throwing yourself down a steep cliff´-way of `easy´.
But as Bobby could, not with all the will in the world, not come up with anything else to get the information he was looking for – and after having exactly that pointed out to him by a maliciously grinning Crowley – he finally had to admitt he had run out of options here.
„BALLS!"
Crowley jerked. If Bobby had been in a SLIGHTLY better mood, he might actually have enjoyed the moment. But as it was, he just scoffed, and rolled his wheelchair to the middle of the room. He seemed tired. Crowley suppressed the impulse to help, humming „The Flower of Scotland" instead.
„Let´s get this over with", Bobby growled, turning the wheelchair to face the demon. Crowley stopped the musical reminiscence to his old home, grinning at the old man in front of him, rubbing his rather small and slender hands together.
Bobby wrinkled his brows. Why on earth did he notice Crowley´s hands all of a sudden?
The King of Hell rummaged in the pocket of his elegant black suit – it fit him really, really good, Bobby thought – and pulled out one of his famous contract scrolls. He smiled at it fondly, even stroking it with a finger. Bobby´s eyes were glued to the gentle movement. A strange, tingling feeling crawled up his back.
„Well, well, then let´s just go over the details", Crowley said cheerily, approaching Bobby, opening the scroll.
„Take your details and shuff them up your Scottish ass", Bobby said angrily. This weird state he was in made him slightly nervous.
Crowley stopped in his movements, looking at Bobby – was there offence in his dark eyes? Couldn´t be, Bobby decided. He was a DEMON, Goddammit! The freakin´ King of fucking Hell!
„No need to be insulting", the demon said, voice ...yes, definitely offended. Bobby felt increasingly confused about this whole situation. What the Hell!
Crowley rolled his contract down to the very end, face showing a sulky expression, mouth closed tightly.
Bobby sighed.
„OK, I´m sorry, right? This whole sell-your-soul thing is just freakin´me out. It´s not like you are the most trustworthy dealer in the world. Makes me wonder if it´s a good idea at all..."
He looked pensieve, scratching his beard again.
„The boys will probably kill me for that", he murmured.
Crowley reached for his special pen – beautifully engraved, heavy silver – and held it out to Bobby.
„I´ll see to it they don´t", he said with grace. „You can be assured of that at least. And my line of work tends to scratch the shady rims of betrayal and deception."
He held the contract so that Bobby could sign it.
What a pleasant scent, Bobby thought. Crowley used Eau de Cologne? Interesting. And why the heck did he just think that!
„It´s the delusion part my clients don´t want to see", Crowley went on. „They talk themselves into believing they are on the safe side with making a deal. But alas! I´m a demon after all! My interests, as low as they may be, will always be more importatnt to me than that of any of my clients."
He watched Bobby scribble his name on the parchment.
„I´ll make an exception for you of course. You can absoulutely trust me on that, Bobby".
Bobby scoffed.
„Yeah, I´m sure about that. It´s not as if you hadn´t tried to screw me or the boys during the last few years, right? Trust, my ass..."
Crowley rolled the contract back together, holding it...caringly? Bobby shook his head. He was definitely off his grid today.
Crowley looked incredibly smug. He pocketed the contract, smiling widely at Bobby.
„Well, and now..."
Bobby stared at him, incredulity all over his face.
„You´re gotta be kidding me", he rasped. "You mean...really!"
Crowley shrugged his shoulders.
„That´s how it works, Bobby Singer. No kiss – no deal."
Bobby muttered several VERY insulting things into his short beard. Crowley was bouncing up and down slightly, pretending not to hear them.
„So?"
„So what!"
„Are you ready for the real thing?"
Bobby shot him a glance so dark and fierce it would have turned the other man into a smouldering heap of ashes had they been characters in a comic.
„If anybody – and I mean ANYBODY – ever finds out about this, I´m fucking gonna kill you, rip you to pieces and burn them one at a time", he growled, rolling his wheelchair forward to meet Crowley.
„As you wish...", Crowley answered, making an elegant sweep of his hand.
„Now..."
The demon bent down. Bobby closed his eyes. This scent was really good. He hadn´t expected that...
Crowley´s lips approached Bobby´s. Finally. FINALLY! After all this sneaking in for a few moments..hiding behind an invisibility which had cost him a fortune to achieve (speaking in deal-making terms of course...the witch selling him the secret spell hadn´t read the small writing carefully enough)...now he was there. This was the moment. His moment. THEIR MOMENT!
His lips met the other man´s rugged ones. He felt the short stubbles of Bobby´s beard scratch his chin. Hmmm...he smelled so good...like laundry hung out in the sun to dry...and old paper...and whisky...
Bobby felt Crowley´s lips on his. They were unexpectedly soft, meeting his own rugged ones ever so gently...the kiss went on...and Bobby liked it. Dammit, he actually LIKED it!
This taste...what was it...mint drops and Whisky...a really good one, too...sweet and full and tangy at the same time...
His whole body tingled. Could he even feel his legs? He wasn´t sure about anything anymore. His mind went dead...there was only feeling...smelling...tasting...touching...
And suddenly Bobby wanted more of this...the fine scent on Crowley´s suit, the taste of his lips, the softness of this mouth...what the Hell! , he thought, and thrusted his tongue into Crowley´s mouth.
Crowley stared at the screen of his iphone. There it was. The picture he had had the presence of mind to take when Bobby and he were kissing. Last second brainwave!
He stroked the picture with his index finger. Bobby looked so funny...like surprised about his own reaction. Well, Crowley thought...and hadn´t that been SOME reaction! The thought of it made the hairs on his arms still stand on end...
Who´d have believed it...
He looked at the picture caringly. Something he would carry with him for the rest of his endless demon life. The moment. THEIR moment.
And then Cowley raised the phone to his lips and gently placed a kiss on the impassive screen.