Crowley never really liked bothering with America. To him, tempting people there was too much like like shooting fish in a barrel. Actually, tempting humans as a whole was like shooting fish in a barrel. In the States however, it was like dynamite fishing in said barrel. After the Apocalypse that wasn't however, he had been in the mood for a little piscine slaughter in order to center himself and get back on track. Like all good plans, that one didn't survive contact with the enemy. The enemy in this case being Apocalypse Plan B, which was to actually go through the entire process of actually breaking sixty-six seals that were dependent on certain sets of exceedingly unlikely circumstances rather than just using the Antichrist to bust Lucifer out of the Pit.
He'd stopped in the small town diner in the middle of Buttfuck, Nowhere because that was what you did on road trips in America. That, and see Alamo and the world's largest ball of twine. He'd been led to a booth by a rather tired looking middle aged waitress, and promptly ordered a rather execrable cup of coffee the instant he was seated, because when you went to an American diner in the middle of nowhere, no matter what time of day it was, the first thing you ordered was coffee.
He'd smelled the kid before he saw him, and his first thought had been that Azazel had done some screwing around and forgot to use birth control. That was rarely a problem for demons of the Fallen Angel variety, as they had a rather nasty tendency to kill their partners after. He himself, when he bothered to engage in such activity - which was far less often than one would think considering the reputation he'd carefully cultivated - usually used methods that were far kinder and more merciful, and generally involved tea made from a type of plant believed to have long been extinct. He preferred to have his bed partners leave his home both alive and satisfied. It was impossible to tempt them into sinning further and damning themselves to Hell if they were dead, and he didn't like blood on his sheets. The smell was impossible to get out even after he made said blood vanish for some strange reason.
When he turned around to see what the spawn of Azazel and a human woman would actually look like, it was to see the Winchester boys who would be at the center of the Apocalypse Take Two in about twenty years' time sitting two booths back. The eldest, who was destined to become Michael's vessel, was carefully counting a pile of money that mainly consisted of pocket change. Based on the grim look on the child's face that was somehow reminiscent of Michael despite the fact that Dean Winchester was human and Michael was a wavelength of celestial intent, things weren't looking too good.
A couple tables away, a Lesser Demon was watching the scene with a predatory gleam in his eye. While most of the "Noble Demons" who had numbered amongst the Fallen viewed the Lesser Demons with disdain, he found he got along with them better than he did his own brethren. Probably because he spent more time interacting with them, and they couldn't order him around like the True Demons he usually interacted with. It had been more out of pity for the demon who would learn what happened to those who screwed with Heaven and Hell's plans and didn't have powerful friends to cover for them the hard way if it did what he thought the poor sod was going to do that he went to the other table and sat down.
"Hail Satan, Star of the Morning, Our Light in the Darkness." Crowley said in a quiet greeting as soon as he was seated across from the demon, simultaneously putting up a barrier that would stop anyone other than say, Go...Father for instance, from listening in on them.
Startled, the Lesser demon jumped in his seat, and whirled to face him.
"Um..." The surprised demon who had probably never expected to encounter a Noble or True demon in his entire existence said.
"Since we're here together and all, we should recount the Deeds of the Day." Crowley said, going through the ritual with the air of one who hasn't gone to church in a damned long time, but was expected to preside over the Sunday service. It was the quickest way to impress upon the Lesser Demon exactly what he was seated across from, and that if he tried anything, he'd be receiving an Infernal smack-down for his troubles.
The expression on the Lesser demon's face was reminiscent of that of someone who'd never been to church in their entire life, right up until the point that someone had ambushed them, stuffed them in a sack, and dragged them there. Crowley understood. The recounting of the Deeds of the Day was one of those things that True Demons did which the Lesser demons hadn't really picked up on. Most likely because it was completely unnecessary, and humans, when you got down to it, were lazy little bastards. Demanding a recounting of the Deeds of the Day had become a method of establishing one's bona fides and asserting one's dominance over the centuries.
"Deeds of the Day?" the Lesser demon asked, sounding almost as pole-axed as he looked.
"You know, what you did in order to bring more new souls to Hell." Crowley said.
"I killed twenty-seven people, and maimed a dozen more." the Lesser demon said proudly.
"And, how do you know that all twenty-seven of those people you killed have gone to Hell, or that the twelve that you've maimed won't turn to Go- Fa- Him in their suffering?" Crowley asked sternly, in the tone of a priest who had just caught an altar boy trying to filch the Communion wine, barely suppressing a wicked smile at the idiocy of the demon in front of him whom he was putting on a bit of a show for, as was expected of one of the Fallen.
Hey, he'd take his little ego strokings where he could get them.
"Um,...I,...um,...don't?" the Lesser demon said weakly.
"You'll get the hang of it eventually." Crowley said in a patronizing tone. "I know what it's like for your kind, showing up back on Earth for the first time in centuries only to discover that only a few years have passed, and deciding to go on a bit of liberty before buckling down for what you see as serious work."
"So, what did you do?" the Lesser demon asked, rather bravely in his opinion.
"Oh, the usual." he said with a wicked smile. "Encouraged everyone I encountered to indulge in the deadly sins, sabotaged a cell tower or two, caused a blackout in the next county over, and shoplifted a candy bar."
"What's with the cell towers, the blackout, and the candy bar?" the demon asked, actually sounding curious rather than disdainful.
"It's a domino effect thing." Crowley replied eagerly, happy to have an audience who might actually appreciate his work. "You piss off one person or group of people who takes it out on a larger group of people who takes it out on even more people, and so forth. By the end of the day, thousands or even millions of souls get a bit of tarnish."
"Wow." the Lesser demon replied, looking somewhat awed after considering the idea for a moment.
That was one thing he'd liked about the Lesser demons, they were actually able to appreciate his work. Rather than looking at him with amused bemusement and commenting on how he'd apparently gone native, they looked at him with stars in their eyes as they sought to emulate him to a degree. There was even a Crossroads demon who generally hung around these parts who had actually named himself after him.
"So, what are you doing here?" the Lesser demon asked.
"I'm on a road trip, and was just passing through." Crowley replied. "I noticed your interest in the brats, and decided to give you a bit of a head's up. Azazel's got plans for the smaller of the little munchkins, and won't take too kindly to you interfering with the brat or his brother."
"Azazel Azazel? As in used to have wings and a halo Azazel?" the Lesser demon asked, looking stunned and slightly star-struck. Azazel had quite the reputation down-below, especially amongst the Lesser Demons whom he ruled with an iron fist, with the exception of a few favorites that he'd adopted as his "children".
"Yep, that's the one." Crowley replied.
"I...I think I'll just be going then." the demon said weakly as he moved to get up.
"Hail Satan." Crowley said as the Lesser demon walked away.
"Uh, yeah, um, that." the Lesser demon who looked rather distracted said as he made haste to depart from the diner.
Crowley sighed as he dropped the barrier. If Hastur could see him now...Him giving proper greetings, and actually recounting the Deeds of the Day. What was the world coming to?
The waitress looked surprised to find him sitting over at a different table.
"Are you ready to order dear?" the slightly confused waitress asked.
"I'll have whatever you'd recommend." he said with a slightly wicked smile. "And, give the kids over there anything they want, it's on me."
Dean, who was sitting morosely behind his meager pile of change, having come to the realization that there was only enough money to feed Sam tuned to look at Crowley with suspicion. That suspicion didn't stop the kid from ordering what looked like half the menu for himself and his little brother though. As Sam and Dean wolfed down their only meal of the day, Crowley went over to the payphone and made a collect call.
"Angel," he said when a certain bookseller picked up. "You are not going to believe what I just ran into."
