'I'm beat.' Dean collapsed onto the driving seat with a thump.
''Yeah,' an exhausted Sam agreed, mirroring his brother. 'We're getting too old for this.'
:
'Hello boys,' a familiar voice chirped from the rear seat.
'Crowley. It's been a bad day, don't make it worse.'
:
'I'm hurt. Here I am, ready to help out.'
'You gonna close the Gates of Hell?' Dean grunted.
'Nothing so mundane, Squirrel! Overheard Moose here complain about getting a little too old to hunt. Well, it's your lucky day. I can offer a two for one deal, give you back the vigour of youth, turn back the clock, so to speak.'
Dean gave him the finger. 'Yeah, like we're gonna hand over our souls to you, Crowley.'
:
'The counterpart doesn't necessarily need to be your souls. Wouldn't want you two near Hell. You're too much trouble.'
The words peaked Sam's interest. 'What then?'
:
'You… eliminate some … undesirables…. who could cause me problems.'
'In other words, paid assassins at your service.'
Crowley shrugged. 'Why not? You take out demons on a daily basis. And get bugger all. I'm offering eternal youth for the same chores.'
'Thanks, but no thanks,' Dean said.
'Offer's always open, boys. Let's see how you feel in another twenty years' time.'
'Maybe we should have accepted,' Sam said tiredly.
:
Dean stared at him, unsure if this time his brother was serious or not.
