A/N: I like Becky a lot, and she doesn't deserve all the bashing that I see. Personally I would love to see her have a happy ending on the show. Also finally got a bit of my writing bug back, it's not the best I've done but at least I wrote something after 5 or 6 months of not being able to think of anything :P
Rated T: just for a couple swears.
"Okay Becky, you can do this. You got your liquid courage, you know how to summon these guys and how they work." She took another generous swig of rum, hiccupping and burying the little box in the dirt at the center of the Crossroads. While she waited for whichever Crossroads Demon she pulled Becky took a glass out of her bag and poured more liquor into it. "Might as well look somewhat classy when I do this."
"As opposed to your usual homely librarian look?" A familiar accent said with a laugh.
Becky turned around and groaned, "Great, out of the however many demons down there in your Hades…" she paused, hiccupping again, "I end up getting King Crowley, goddammit."
"Well when a member of the Winchester fan club decides to sell away their soul, I prefer to deal with it myself. Gives me something else to make those boys feel bad when I run into them again, and teasing them about their little angel is getting a tad boring."
"Oh how noble of you," Becky slurred, downing the glass and pouring herself another. "Care for a swig? It's not your Craig but it's better than what Sam and Dean usually get their hands on. Was saving it for a special occasion but now's as good a time."
He shook his head, "Sorry darling, anything else is sewer sludge to me. Now what does little Becky Rosen desire most? Her own Moose, a better figure, lifetime supply of cat food?" He wanted to say more but Becky slapped him across the face. "Now what on Earth was that for? That's not like you at all dear."
"I am sick to death of the crazy cat lady comments. I fucking HATE cats. Look, as simple as my head is letting me put it: my soul goes to hell, Sam and Dean be safe from everything for…forever...ness." She sat on the trunk of her car, feeling dizzy and not wanting to fall down. Crowley started to laugh which only made her angrier, "And why is that so funny?"
"First of all your soul has nowhere near enough worth for that level of want. Only God-not Castiel's attempt at that mind you- or Death has that amount of leverage to save those denim wrapped nuisances. Yours is barely worth 6 months."
Becky looked down, she had told herself 4 hours and 2 handles of rum ago that no matter what she would not let any demon see her cry. But Crowley was pushing her buttons and he was probably enjoying it. "Then bring Cas back, or Bobby or even Gabriel! Or give them all the tools they'd need to get them back, they don't deserve to keep losing their friends like that."
"There are some things that not even the King of Hell can do. And besides with all the usual issues of running a kingdom, mixed with the problem of the Leviathan, and still keeping the demons in line I'm already stretched thin."
"Fine, then this was a waste of time for both of us. Adios sulfur-butt." Becky hopped off of her car and almost fell down before starting to stumble to her car door. Crowley tutted and grabbed her arm before she could get back in.
"I didn't say we couldn't negotiate. Besides you try to drive off now and they'll be cleaning you off the streets for days. Now how about we make things nice and simple so that you can understand in your drunken haze."
"Well you've pretty much said you're a useless thing. I know I'm not some big fish like Sam or Dean or any kind of corporate bastard but don't act like I'm an idiot. 'Oh silly Becky, little obsessive cornstalk' enough with the treating me like I'm less than a person. So if you're not going to deal or you're just going to mock me some more you can fuck off and go back downstairs!" She pushed his arm away from her before picking up the handle of rum and drinking more out of it.
"Now now, a lady shouldn't use such language. You've got some fire in you and I like that. So let's see if we can work something out that pleases us both."
"Is it a job requirement for you to make everything sound like it's about sex?"
"Don't pretend you don't enjoy it just a bit. Now then how does this sound: Bobby's human so I can bring him back no problem, just a quick snap and he's up and calling everyone idjits again. I can't bring back angel boy but I can give them a piece of information that can help them get him back and missing the point on everything."
"Then you get my soul and I spend eternity pissing people off by singing anything I can think of on the rack." Crowley looked surprised at the last bit, "Dual purpose, distract me a bit from being tortured and my horrible singing voice will piss off other souls there so that's an advantage for you."
"That actually sounds logical, but anything else for you? New hair or some elective plastic surgery?"
"If I wanted to get rid of the blonde I'd get hair dye. One change though, instead of 10 years I just want 10 minutes."
"Odd, most of you lot try to weasel more time but not less. And certainly not that little."
Becky shrugged, "No friends or family to worry about, why delay? Not like I'll do anything worthwhile in the next ten years so why waste more time. So let's just smooch and get it over with." She finished the handle and threw it behind her.
"Little Bubbly Becky, you don't give yourself enough credit. Regardless a deal's a deal. Now then." He smirked and grabbed Becky, kissing her to seal the deal. Crowley broke the kiss a few seconds later laughing a bit at Becky's slightly breathless expression. "By the way I added a little sub clause for you. Hell needs people who aren't functioning morons in charge of some of the things, and with how annoying you can get when you get angry well that's motivation for people to try to not make you mad. So," he snapped his fingers and a black dress appeared on top of Becky's car. "see you in 10 minutes, Queen of the Crossroads." He grinned and disappeared.