Disclaimer: I own nothing.


Another Crowley one-shot. Go figure.

This one is could easily be an alternate ending to 8.23. Mainly because Crowley is just a secret softy. Plus I'm weird, and Crowley is hot in his own twisted way.

So, without further ado, enjoy!

Love always,

Avoline


"Roderick" watched as Jody made her way to the ladies room, handbag in hand. Something within him stirred when he pulled out the necessary tools to end her life. Crowley shoved it aside, setting everything up with practiced ease. He was a demon, King of Hell at that. He hadn't felt emotions in ages. So long, actually, that he basically forgot what any good emotion felt like. The only ones he knew were anger and a twisted sense of pleasure.

So why was he having second thoughts about killing Jody Mills?

He sighed and glanced over his shoulder. Something about her was breaking through to him, and he couldn't put his finger on what it was. She was just another pathetic human the Winchesters had saved. She was nothing compared to what he could do. Yet, for some reason, he was having a hard time speaking the words to the spell. It wasn't that he didn't know them. He'd memorized them as a child, when he worshiped the ground his mother walked on. They just didn't want to leave his mouth.

Reluctant. He was reluctant to harm her. She had done nothing to deserve what he was doing, and that drug up so much guilt that he stopped halfway through the spell. She was truly a wonderful person, and didn't deserve the hand life had dealt her. And she sure enough didn't deserve to die just because he wanted to hurt Moose and Squirrel. He slid the cloth back into his pocket, but didn't rise from his seat.

It was time to come clean to the woman with whom he'd been having a lovely date with.

"Sorry," she laughed, sliding into the seat across from him. "I promised myself I wouldn't let myself look like shit again." He smiled at her words.

"I don't think it's at all possible for you to look like shit," he murmured soothingly, reaching across the table and gently grasping her hand. "Jody, I gotta tell you the truth. Cause no matter how ugly it is, you deserve it." He looked at the table top, a bit startled at the slight tinge of fear clouding his mind. "My name isn't Roderick. It's Crowley." She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms. "I'm a demon; King of Hell, actually." She scoffed and took a deep drink of her wine.

"I should have known," she hissed. "My life hasn't been normal since Singer and those Winchester boys showed up and fucked it all up." He managed a smirk at that one.

"They're actually the reason I sought you out," he muttered, feeling as though he had been run thru with a blade made of guilt. "They're trying to seal the gates of Hell, and I'm trying to stop them." Her eyes met his, and he could tell that she would hate him forever.

"So you thought you'd kill everyone they know," she questioned.

"Not exactly," he answered. "I've been killing everyone they ever saved, and you were next on my list." Her eyes went cold, and he felt something else he hadn't felt since he was a child: self-loathing. "But spending these past few moments with you have changed my mind."

"Can I believe you," she snapped. He shrugged.

"I can't answer that one, darling, because it's not for me to answer," he replied, pulling a pen out of his pocket and writing his number down on a napkin. "If you feel that you can, and you ever want to just talk, even if this goes nowhere, here's my number. If you don't think you can trust me, and I won't blame you if you don't, just throw this away. I'll pay, regardless, cause I'm a gentleman first and foremost." She eyed him warily before grabbing the napkin and storming off. He sighed and drained his glass before flagging down the waitress and paying.

"Here goes nothing."


He was chained in the dungeon of that stupid bunker when Sam Winchester walked in and handed him his cell phone. He didn't recognize the number, and the younger brother stomped away before he could ask who it was. He raised the phone to his ear, a little wary after the past few days.

"Hello," he grunted.

"It's Jody," a familiar voice sighed. "I'm not going to ask why the Winchesters have your phone, but I'm assuming it's because the tables have turned." He scoffed, but smiled at the hint of sarcasm.

"Oh, yes," he answered. "The tables have most definitely turned. But at least I get to hear your lovely voice again, Jody." He heard her laugh, and chuckled a bit to himself.

"Well, I had called to see if you wanted to treat me to another lovely date," she teased. "But I'm guessing the boys wouldn't be too pleased with the idea of me and you on a date." He actually laughed at that one.

"They might if you convince them that you'll be safe," he replied. "I don't think they know how to deal with a woman as strong willed as you." He heard footsteps just outside the door. "Speaking of, here comes one now."

"Hand him the phone," she ordered. "I don't care which on it is, just hand it over."

"Yes ma'am." He held the phone out as Dean burst through the door. "She wants to speak to you." The older Winchester snatched the device away and held it to his ear.

"Jody," he barked, glaring at Crowley. "Yeah, what about it?" He blinked and looked away, a look of surprise on his face. "Have you lost your mind? He'd the damn King of Hell!" The Scotsman smirked as Dean's jaw dropped. "Jody-" He fell silent again. "Last time, he was trying to kill you. Who's to say he won't finish the job?" The demon snorted at the insult. "Fine. I'll fix up something and y'all can have your little date here. I'm not unchaining-" The hunter looked like a child being scolded. "Jody, I don't trust him. I'm not letting him out of the demon trap." Crowley could see the anger in the young man's face. "Deal." He hung up and glared at the chained man again. "You should be glad that she scares me shitless." A peaceful smile crossed Crowley's face.

"I am," he whispered to himself as Dean stormed out. "And I'm glad I changed my mind."