In between jobs, Bela slinks back to the apartment that she knows too well. Not her own flat, the one in Queens with the excellent view, the one she pays for — this place sits in the so-called downtown area of a small city in northern California, one of barely 15,000 residents, and the lease never gets paid because statements of the account seem to mysteriously disappear. No one comes around to ask questions about this. In all likelihood, the other tenants are all possessed, and the landlord besides them — and none of them want to tangle with the demon Bela always comes to see.

She parks her car in the building's deck and turns the engine off, hits the lights, and sits behind the wheel with both hands still on it, fingers tapping apprehensively on the rubber and the plastic, on the indents where she's gripped it too tightly, for one reason or another. This does not calm the percussive thumping of her heart, or take the edge off of her nerves. Once again, she ran afoul of the Winchesters and came out without the Colt in hand — so much for her skills as a cat-burglar. Even considering Sam's university education, stealing from those apes shouldn't be so difficult. Would Lilith even notice, Bela wonders, if she were to simply leave right now, get back on the road and drive until she needs to pull over for a few hours' sleep, if she were to tell her demon mistress that the case went overtime, that a new job came up, or anything, just to get out of seeing Lilith now…

But she can't do that. Bela sighs and grabs her offering off the passenger seat — a bag of sweets from a shop she passed just before the Interstate, full up of lollipops and chocolates and all of Lilith's favourites. Bela doesn't want to hear the slamming of her door echo through the cement halls and their vaulted ceilings. She doesn't want her shoes to click along the floor, or to feel the familiar search for stability as she leaves the stone for the carpet inside. She doesn't want the elevator to come down for her, but it does, and because the alternative seems worse, she enters, turns to face her pale reflection in the silver doors, and pushes the button for the fourteenth floor (really, the thirteenth, hence Lilith's fondness for it). As she strides down the corridor, she doesn't let herself feel the trepidation: her pounding heart falls on deaf ears, and the flip-flopping of her stomach might as well belong to someone else. She feels the cold that comes from the other demons, and she feels the folds of her skirt brushing against her bare thighs — but the fear, she shoves behind her perfected facade and subsequently ignores. With her lips pressed together into a line, Bela comes to 13A and knocks on the door. It opens to reveal no one standing there.

Bela sighs, and bites down into her lower lip; as she comes inside, she feels the chill down to her bones and suppresses the shiver that threatens to come up. Closing the door behind her, she toes off her shoes and leaves them behind. She does her best to keep looking forward, rather than at her feet; passing by the kitchen, she rounds the corner into the sitting room. Lilith waits on the sofa with a smile and a new meat-suit — this one can't be too much older than sixteen; she's pretty, so blonde her hair is almost white, with big blue eyes and hair down to her waist, an emerald Alice dress that hits her at mid-thigh, a white apron, white stockings, black Mary Janes; throughout, she has the doll-like look that Lilith just adores. Her legs stretch on for days and when she beams up at Bela, she shows off perfect, shining teeth.

"What took you so long, sweetie?" she demands, her voice like honeyed poison. "I thought you said you'd be home soon! And since that was almost a week ago already…"

Looking down into her eyes — into the white ones that appear there, over top of her new girl's natural ones — Bela has to brace herself. Her heart beats as though it might escape her chest, and the freezing aura that emanates off of Lilith worms down deep, into her lungs, settling itself in and making everything else feel like burning. "The drive from the east coast to California can't be done in one night," Bela points out reasonably, a nervous chuckle slipping out against her better judgement. Lilith does nothing in response, only looks at her expectantly, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. "Well, I found the Winchesters," Bela explains, to start, and searches Lilith's face for a sign to her reaction; she finds nothing helpful, not even one quirk of an eyebrow. "And so I tried to get the Colt—"

Lilith's voice is serious, with a note of urgency behind her words: "Did you? Where is it?"

Bela takes a full breath to steady herself, and whispers, "It's still with them."

A long moment passes wherein they say nothing to one another. Lilith lets the blues slip back up, and they smoulder so much that they might bore holes into Bela's skull. The demon's grimace is deep, disgust etched into every line, from her plush pink lips to the dimple on their end. Her nostrils flare — and then, pain erupts as her toes slam into Bela's stomach. Bela doubles over, coughing up and still trying to keep her face even, unmoved. Lilith shoves her fingers into Bela's hair and jerks her head up, so that her scalp feels set alight and she has to focus on the demon's eyes and nothing else. With her free hand, Lilith smacks Bela across the face; her head spins around — and her cheek burns where Lilith's palm connected with it — and her hair won't just detach so her scalp feels the new flares from the resistance — and she finds she welcomes it when Lilith shoves her back into the wall, when her feet slide out from under her and she hits the floor, because at least here, she doesn't have Lilith pulling on her by a thin, persistent leash. Her hair falls out of its up-do, lilting onto her shoulders and giving her the tenderest touch she's had tonight…

…until Lilith invites herself into Bela's lap. She hits Bela's hips without warning, and thudding as though she's heavier than the slender body can really be — she runs her fingers down Bela's cheek, and the gentleness comes as no surprise. This is always how things go with them. She caresses Bela's face, laying her cool hand on the spot of red, where the slap still stings, and nudging her view up, Lilith leans down, bestowing on the human a kiss as soft as praying. Bela reciprocates, and bites back the tears that threaten to pour over — all she does is move her lips against Lilith's, leaning up and then withdrawing, hazarding to run her tongue along the demon's teeth, and, in a moment of daring, biting on Lilith's lip. This elicits a moan, and Bela puts the thoughts she doesn't want — those of her weakness, her ineptitude, how, most likely, she'll be stuck in this arrangement until the Hell-hounds come for her — out of her mind.

"It's okay, Pooh Bear," Lilith tells her, voice beguilingly (and falsely) sympathetic, just like the way she runs her hand through Bela's hair, tucking it behind her ear as she goes. "I forgive you. I know it must be so hard, trying to weasel out of your Deal when you aren't long for this world… You know what would make it better?" Bela shakes her head 'no'; with a smirk, Lilith reaches under her skirt and tears away her panties. She sets her hand on the soft contours of Bela's thigh, and runs it up and down in slow, fluid motions — and, finally, she brushes her fingers down the patch of stubble from Bela's last Brazilian wax. "Tell me that you want it, sugarplum."

Bela swallows thickly. Her eyes mist up and she sets her jaw, nodding slowly. Speaking with a quavering she hates, she confirms, "Yes, Lilith. …Please. …I want it — I want you."

Lilith's fingers slide in without any difficulty, reaching as deep as she can make them go, tapping at Bela's clitoris, toying with it once she gets it hard, and despite herself, Bela lets a moan escape her mouth, amidst the rush of shivers.