Crowley walked through the shadows until he reached Bobby's place. He angled for a corner of the living room, the only area in the house where it was safe for him to enter.
At least it had been safe for him. Now he found himself trapped in a devil's trap.
He jerked back from the salt lines, eyes darting around the room, but all he saw was a grim-faced Bobby standing in front of him. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he smiled amicably. "Something wrong, luv?"
"Let's talk about Sammy's soul," Bobby growled.
oooOooo
Dean parked the Impala in the spot he usually parked it when they visited Bobby. Opening the door he straightened, looking around uneasily. "Coming?" he asked his brother.
Sam stirred and got out of the car, looking toward the house warily. "What did Bobby say again?"
Dean shrugged. "Just that if we want your soul back to get our asses over here."
Sam frowned. "You think he kept some kind of hold on Crowley?"
"Maybe. How about we go in and find out?"
"Right." Sam slammed the door shut and followed his brother into the house.
"Bobby?" Dean called out as he entered the house.
"Kitchen!"
They walked in to find Bobby putting away dishes. He looked them over and grunted. "You know where the beer is. Grab me one."
"Right." Dean pulled out the beers, handing one to his brother and setting another near Bobby.
The older man dried his hands and picked up the beer, walking over to join the brothers at the table. He sat across from them and leaned back in the chair, frowning.
"So," Dean said finally. "You know how to get Sam's soul back?"
Bobby scowled. "Yeah. I had no idea Crowley had it or I'd've done something about it sooner."
Dean blinked. "Ummmm, how? I mean, did you get something on him or something?"
Bobby's scowl deepened. "Not exactly." He half-turned to look over his shoulder. "Get your ass in here, damn it!"
Dean blinked, then choked on his beer as Crowley stepped into the room. Sam was already on his feet, reaching for a weapon and Bobby slammed his hand on the table.
"Sit down!" He barked before glaring back at the demon. "And you. Get in here."
The demon scowled back and slunk over, ignoring the boys totally. Dean blinked at his attire. Blue jeans, sneakers and ... was that one of Bobby's shirts?
"Um, Bobby? What the hell?"
"Crowley's been hanging around on and off. You might say we've reached an agreement."
Crowley paused at the refrigerator to pull out a beer and walked over to to sit next to Bobby.
"What kind of agreement?" Sam asked curtly.
Bobby shrugged. "Something like friendship."
"Excuse me?" Both Winchesters said at the same time.
Crowley snickered. "Cute. You two practice that?"
"You shut up." Dean barked. "You and ... him?" He looked at Bobby in disbelief, his expression making his meaning clear.
Bobby snorted. "No," he said curtly.
"Not yet anyway." Crowley smirked, earning a glare from Bobby. "And not for lack of trying."
"Ignore him," Bobby growled. "I do, when he gets in those moods. I didn't know he had Sammy's soul or I'd have dealt with it sooner."
Crowley rolled his eyes at that.
"You ... you can do that?" Dean asked slowly.
"Sure. Once I got him to understand that it mattered. 'Course if you'd just gotten him the damn Alpha, you'd already have it. Or if you," he glared at Sam. "Hadn't tried to kill him after he almost killed himself getting you out of Hell."
"What?" Dean glanced at the stone-faced Sam, then back at Bobby.
"You know, I'm understanding more and more about demons and deal making. It seems that among demons ... hell! Among all supernatural creatures, a Winchester's word ain't worth shit."
"Correction," Crowley muttered. "Shit is worth more."
Bobby glared at him and Crowley slumped into the chair, tapping the bottle against his teeth.
"What? You think he was going to give it back?" Sam said curtly.
"Maybe not, but that wasn't the deal was it? You begged him to get you out of the cage and he did, at great cost to himself. He could have left you there, you know, and you'd still be there."
"Wait a minute." Dean started. "Your soul ..."
"This ain't about my soul. That's taken care of. This is about Sam's soul. Crowley's going to give it back." He shot the demon a sharp look. Crowley looked back sulkily. "On one condition."
"Excuse me?" Dean said. He glared at Crowley. "No deals!"
"Like I'd believe any promise you made," Crowley said scornfully. "You two asswipes aren't capable of honoring your word."
"Not with him." Bobby interrupted. "With me. You ain't killing him once Sam gets his soul back. Or any other time. If you do kill him, you're going to have to deal with me."
"Bobby!"
"I mean it! Got my reasons for wanting him alive. You shut up." He glared at the smirking demon. "He'll give Sam's soul back, you leave him alone."
"The King of Hell. You just want us to leave him alone?" Sam spoke up.
"Yeah well, at least we know who's in charge. And we can deal with him. Least I can. Or would you prefer Meg or some unknown in charge?"
The two brothers looked at each other. "What about the Campbells? Samuel?"
"What about him? Him and Crowley have a business arrangement. One that Samuel suggested and agreed to. You wanna know what it's about, you ask him."
Dean looked from Bobby to Crowley and back again. "He tell you that?"
"He don't lie to me," Bobby said with such certainty that Dean blinked.
"If I agree to this," Sam said suddenly. "This no payback goes both ways."
"You mean I don't get some revenge for you stabbing me in the back?" Crowley sneered.
Both Sam and Dean glared at him and Bobby dug an elbow into his ribs.
"Behave," The hunter growled. "No payback either way."
Dean's eyes wandered from Crowley to Bobby to Sam, obviously torn. He finally cleared his throat. "Bobby, uhmmm. He's not ... you're not ..."
Bobby rolled his eyes. "My soul's my own. You can ask Castiel if you want. And if you got any holy water?"
Crowley grimaced and scooted his chair back as Dean pulled out a flask and offered it to the older man. Bobby took a swig and handed it back.
"Look, I ain't gonna explain it. You'll have to trust me. Crowley'll give Sam his soul back, free and clear, and you leave him alone. If he starts screwing with us, I'll take care of it. And him."
It was the surprisingly hurt look that Crowley shot Bobby right then that convinced Dean. He looked at Sam. "I think maybe you should accept."
Sam glared at him. "Trust him?"
"Trust Bobby." Dean corrected. "We'll have Castiel check next time we see him."
Crowley made a face at that.
Sam hesitated. "Okay. Okay, fine." He glared at Crowley.
Crowley stared back thoughtfully, finally setting the empty bottle on the table. "One stipulation."
"I knew it!" Sam scowled, pushing himself to his feet,
"Sit down!" Bobby spat, turning to glare at the demon. "Crowley," he said in a warning tone.
"No, luv. Besides, it's more common sense than an actual stipulation." Crowley looked at them sternly. "But since you - two seem to lack common sense, I am going to spell it out. You don't tell anyone, and I mean anyone, about our - friendship. " He glanced at Bobby. "There are beings out there who would think nothing of grabbing Bobby and using whatever it takes to attract my attention. And as for hunters finding out." Crowley actually shuddered at that thought.
Dean opened his mouth to protest then paused, thinking it over.
"Hunters would kill Bobby for having a friendship with a demon and you both know that. So no mentioning it to dear Grandpa or to some girlfriend or rambling while drunk." Crowley continued.
"We get it! We get it!" Dean snapped. "Now how about we get on with this?"
"Fine." Crowley rose. "Come on."
"What?" Dean stood up but didn't follow.
"Getting his soul back isn't an easy thing, not for him. Might be better if the moose were laying down when he got it back. Just so he doesn't have so far to fall. Less damage to the floor and all that."
The two brothers exchanged a look. "What have you been doing with it?" Sam asked tentatively.
The demon gave him an exasperated look. "I've been letting the hellhounds play with it. What do you think I've been doing with it?"
"Crowley!"
The demon gave Bobby a surly look. "You're taking all the fun out of this," he muttered. "Don't worry. It's been safe. Now lie down." He waved a hand at the couch.
Sam hesitantly obeyed, keeping a wary eye on the demon. Crowley didn't approach any closer, he just waved his hand. Sam blinked and gasped, looking like he'd just been smacked in the head with a two-by-four.
"Whoa, dude." Dean started forward.
"He's fine." Crowley stepped back. "He and his soul just have to reconcile a few things."
"Ah, right." Dean eyed the demon for a long moment. "I wanna talk to Bobby. Minus you. So how about getting lost?"
Crowley glowered at him and Bobby hastily touched his shoulder. The demon visibly bit back whatever remark he was going to make and stepped back. "I'll just start supper then, shall I?" He turned and disappeared back into the kitchen.
"He cooks?" Dean asked.
"Yeah. He's real handy around the place." Bobby glared at Dean.
Dean hesitated then gestured toward the door. Bobby rolled his eyes before leading him out of the house and out into the yard.
"Bobby. This ... whatever it is ..."
Bobby turned to face him. "Do you know what I do all day, Dean?"
"What?" Dean blinked. "I ... no. Not really."
"I do research. I hunt. I fix cars. And I drink. I got no friends, not really." He held up his hand to forestall Dean's protest. "I know what you're going to say and yeah. You and Sam are friends. And Rufus and even the Sheriff." Bobby frowned, rocking back on his heels. "But everything we do is connected to hunting. There's no dropping by for a beer or just to talk about things. Everyone seems to want something. Crowley's the first person in a long time to drop in just to talk." He half-laughed. "Apparently running Hell ain't easy."
"Ah, yeah. I bet." Dean shuffled his feet, obviously uncomfortable. "But, uhm, what he wants. He, ahhh ... makes it real obvious he wants to ... hmmmm."
Bobby smirked. "Wants me to screw his brains out? Or maybe the other way around?" He actually laughed at the gob-smacked look that remark put on Dean's face. "If it happens, it happens. Wouldn't be my first time." He rolled his eyes at the look on Dean's face. "Years ago, when I was younger. Long before I met Karen. I was young and curious and, well, attracted to ..."
Dean threw up his hands. "Whoa! Too much information!"
"Then don't ask. Don't worry, Dean. I know what I'm doing, surprising as that may sound. And I ain't stupid and I ain't blind. If he's messing with me I'll deal with him."
Dean hesitated for a long moment before nodding. "Be careful, Bobby. Remember Ruby,"
Bobby grunted, but before he could say anything, a shout interrupted him.
"Hey, Bobby!" Both men turned to see Crowley on the porch. "I was thinking burgers. Want to start up the grill?"
"Sounds good to me!' Bobby slapped Dean's shoulder. "Go on in. Check on your brother. I'll get the grill going."
"Yeah, sure." Dean walked into the house, pausing by the couch, Sam was asleep for the first time since he came out of Hell and he left him to it, continuing on to the kitchen.
Crowley was at a counter, chopping potatoes. The demon glanced at him, but didn't stop his work.
"Umm, what's that?" He nodded toward the pan Crowley was dropping potatoes into.
"For potato salad. And corn on the cob." He nodded to a bigger pan already on the stove. "The hamburgers are ready, if you want to take them out to Bobby. Might want to take a couple beers along."
Dean hesitated, then shrugged. "Okay."
It turned out to be a remarkably relaxing evening, even with Crowley there. Every now and then one of the Winchesters would remember that he was a demon and tense up, but Crowley would ignore them and they would eventually relax. As night fell, Bobby pulled out bedding and dropped it on the couch.
"You two fight over who's sleeping where," he growled.
"Oh! Slumber party!" Crowley said cheerfully and all three men turned to scowl at him. Bobby sighed and both Winchesters' jaws dropped open.
Crowley was dressed in what looked like light blue silk pajamas covered by a ratty robe they recognized as Bobby's. He wore tartan bunny slippers and something fuzzy was tucked under his arm.
"Is that a toy hellhound?" Bobby demanded.
Crowley blinked, glancing down at the toy in question. "Maybe. Why?"
"Just wondered what one looks like." Taking the toy, he examined it before handing it back, scowling at the expectant look on the demon's face. "Just stay on your side of the bed," he finally muttered, turning to walk up the stairs.
"Whatever you say, luv." Crowley followed sedately.
"And don't call me that!"
"Yes, dear."
Bobby stopped dead and the boys watched, fascinated, as he struggled for control. After a moment he stomped his way up the stairs.
"And stop looking at my ass!" They heard him bark as he stormed toward his room.
"Sorry." Crowley sounded cheerful. "So not possible."
Bobby's growl was loud enough for the boys to hear. "Next time you walk up first!"
"So you can ogle my ass? Deal!"
Whatever Bobby said, if he said anything, was muffled by the slamming door. A moment later it opened again then closed more gently.
Sam took advantage of Dean's distraction to drop half the bedding on the floor and started putting the couch together. "I give them a week," he said finally. "Before they either kill each other or fuck each other senseless."
Dean threw a pillow at him "Thanks a bunch! That's an image I so did not need!" He threw the bedding in front of the fireplace and kicked everything into place before sitting to pull of his boots.
Sam set a beer next to Dean's makeshift bed and collapsed on the couch.
"Bitch."
"Jerk."