Dean carefully laid the rug back down, concealing the devil's trap he had just drawn on the underside of it. He nodded to Sam as he straightened up, aiming his gun down the hallway as Sam clutched his knife. They had trapped enough demons, so this really shouldn't be difficult, even if this time they were in the demon's own house. Dean just hoped that this Crowley still had the Colt.

He heard footsteps approaching and he tightened his grip on his gun slightly. And then the demon rounded the corner and Dean's jaw dropped. What the…? "R-?" he started to ask, but he was interrupted before he could get the name out.

"It's Crowley, right?" Sam asked.

No, he couldn't be. Unless he was possessed. Dean felt a panic rising in him that he fought to push down. Why would Crowley just happen to possess Roderick, of all people? Was it for his benefit? But how did he even know about them? No one knew, not even Sam. And this was not the way that he wanted his brother to find out. He had to pretend like he didn't know him, and hope that Crowley, who Dean knew had access to Roderick's memories, would do the same. But how could he just stand here and pretend when all he wanted to do was make sure Roderick was alright?

"So," Crowley spoke. "The Hardy Boys finally found me. Took you long enough." His eyes flickered to Dean, his expression unreadable, before he glanced down at the rug. He bent down and picked up the edge, looking at the devil's trap underneath. "Do you have any idea how much this rug cost?"

Despite himself, Dean got a faint urge to laugh. That sounded just like something Roderick would say, and for a moment it was easy to forget that the man in front of him was just using his body as a puppet. Still, the entire time they were there, it was hard to differentiate Crowley from Roderick, and Dean wanted to kill him all the more for it, even though the bastard did willingly give them the Colt and divulged that he wanted them to kill Lucifer.

When Dean left Crowley's that night, he was sure of one thing, he had to get Roderick back, and he had the beginnings of an idea as to how to go about it. From what he had seen of Crowley, he seemed to have the sense of humor that would enjoy the irony of showing up where Dean and Roderick had agreed to meet the next day. There was no guarantee, but it was worth a shot.

So the next day found Dean knocking on the door of the penthouse of the nicest hotel in the area. He just had enough time to think, 'Please be here,' when the door was pulled open to reveal Crowley standing there with the same unreadable expression he'd worn when he had seen him at his house.

"I didn't think you'd come," he admitted.

"Yeah, well, I need some answers." Dean shoved past him, into the room.

"Of course," he sighed as he closed the door and walked over to the table. "Would you like a drink?"

"No."

Crowley just nodded as he poured himself a glass of scotch, the same kind Roderick always drank, then walked over to take a seat on the armchair. "Have a seat, Dean."

"I'm good."

"Alright…. Ask away, then."

"I talked to Roderick just yesterday, unless that wasn't really him, either way, you chose to possess him fairly recently. Why him? You had to know about us. What this just for-"

"You think I'm possessing Roderick?" Crowley interrupted, vague surprise on his features.

"You are."

He sighed as he set his drink down as rose to his feet. "No, Dean, I'm not." He took a step closer, but Dean retreated a step. He didn't normally back away from demons, but Crowley was making him sick. "I've had this meatsuit for years, and its original occupant is long since dead – I don't like sharing. Roderick was my middle name as a human, it's what I use when I don't want people to know who I am."

Now Dean really felt like he was going to be sick. "You're lying."

"I have never lied to you Dean. Unless you're counting my name, but that was only a half-lie."

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"Expect? No. But it is the truth."

Dean shook his head, looking away from the demon in front of him. Roderick wasn't even real, it was all just some sick joke by this demon.

"Dean, I-" Crowley reached for him, but Dean jerked his arm away.

Crowley had played him, but he wouldn't get away with that anymore. Dean quickly pulled out the demon knife and pressed it against Crowley's throat. The demon took in a sharp breath, but made no attempt to move, maintaining eye-contact with Dean. "I don't ever want to see you again," Dean growled. With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. He could have sworn that he heard a crash in the room as he took off down the hall, but he didn't care. He was done.

Of course, he should have known better than that. Crowley was a demon, Dean was a hunter, there was a good chance that they would run each other again down the road. And sure enough, it happened far too soon.

Dean was on the phone with Bobby as he and Sam drove through West Nevada. They were trying to track down Pestilence, but they had just about nothing to go on. Dean was just hanging up the phone when an all too familiar voice spoke from the backseat.

"Say… I've got an idea."

Dean slammed on the brakes as Sam plunged his knife into the backseat.

"Did you get him?" Dean demanded, ashamed of himself for not being sure what he wanted the answer to be.

"He's gone."

A second later, Crowley was tapping on Sam's window. "Fancy a fag and a chat?"

They both got out of the car, Sam stalking towards Crowley with deadly intent, the latter of which quickly backed up towards Dean.

"You're upset. We should discuss it. Not here, but-"

"You want to talk?" Sam demanded as Dean worked on sorting through his emotions. Crowley had lied to him, and then betrayed all of them, getting Ellen and Jo killed, but there was still a part of Dean who saw the man he had once pretended to be. "After what you did to us?"

"After what I – what I did to you?! I gave you the Colt!"

"Yeah, and you knew it wouldn't work against the devil!"

"I never!"

"You set us up. We lost people on that suicide run – good people!"

"Who you take on the ride is your own business! Look, everything is still the same. W-we're all still in this together."

"Sure we are."

Crowley managed to teleport to the other side of Sam, just in time to avoid being stabbed. He turned his attention to Dean, for the first time acknowledging his presence. "Call your dog off – please."

Dean's expression hardened. "Give me one good reason."

"I can give you Pestilence."

That brought Dean up short. "What do you know about Pestilence?"

"I know how to get him. That's got your interest, doesn't it?"

"Are you actually listening to this?" Sam demanded.

"Sam-"

"Are you friggin' nuts?!"

Maybe. "Shut up for a second, Sam!"

"Shut up, the both of you!" Crowley cut in. "Look...I swear... I thought the Colt would work. It's an honest mistake. It's all part of the learning process. But nothing's changed. I still want the devil dead. Well...one thing's changed. Now the devil knows that I want him dead. Which, by the way, makes me the most buggered son in all of creation."

He thought the Colt would work…. Not that that made any difference. He had still lied to him, used him. "Holy crap," Dean sighed in exasperation. "We don't care." Who are you trying to convince? a small voice in the back of his mind spoke.

"They burnt down my house!" Crowley shouted. "They ate my tailor! Two months under a rock, like a bloody salamander! Every demon on hell and earth's got his eyes out for me! And yet... here I am... last place I should be – in the road, talking to Sam and Dean Winchester, under a friggin' spotlight!" He pointed up and the street light exploded. "So come with me," he continued more calmly. "Please. Do you want the horsemen rings or not? Yes, I know all about that. Shall we?"

"Dean, you're not…?" Sam started.

Dean sighed as he turned to his brother, hating himself for what he was about to say. "He may be the best chance we've got."

Crowley grinned. "Shotgun!"

Sam glared at him. "Not happening."

Sam got into the passenger's seat before Crowley could make a move towards it. Dean got back into the driver's seat without another word, not all that surprised when Crowley teleported into the backseat.

"We can go to where I'm staying to chat," Crowley said, leaning forward. "Just continue going down this road."

Dean tried his hardest as he drove to ignore the fact of who was in the backseat, but it was hard when his voice brought back a rush of memories, when sometimes he would point and his arm would brush against Dean's. He was glad when they finally arrived, though the place certainly wasn't what he was expecting. It was a dump, worse even than some of the motels he had had to stay at on the road.

"Here we are," Crowley said with a sigh as they stepped inside. "My life on the lam. How the mighty have fallen. Single-pane glass, used contraception in the fireplace. The water damage alone-"

"My heart's bleeding for you," Dean interrupted, wanting to just get this done and then leave. "Now, how do you know about the rings?"

"Well, now… I've been keeping a close eye on you lot."

"We got hex bags," Sam pointed out. "We're hidden from demons."

"All but one. That night you broke into my house, my valet hid a tracking device in your car – a magical coin that easily trumps your little bags o' bones. It allows me to hear things, too – and, my, the things I've heard. So you want to cram the devil back in the box? Cunning scheme. I want in."

Dean's blood was boiling. Not only had this guy screwed with him life, but he had been spying on them? "You son of a bitch," he hissed. "You said you could get us Pestilence."

"Well, now… I don't know where Pestilence is per se. But I do know the demon who does. He's what you might call the horsemen's stable boy. He handles their itineraries, their personal needs. He's who you want – believe me. He'll tell us where Sneezy's at."

"Well, how do we get him to spill? Rip out his toenails?"

"No. Nuts at his pay grade don't crack. We bring him here, then I sell him."

"Sell him?" Sam asked.

"Please. I've sold sin to saints for centuries. Think I can't close one little demon?"

"All right," Dean said, trying to keep this moving along. "So where's this demon of yours?"

"He's currently acting as head of Niveus Pharmaceutical, clearly doing some job for Pestilence. So then, shall we?"

"Give us a minute." Sam grabbed Dean by the arm and pulled him aside. "Why are we even listening to him, Dean?" he demanded. "This is totally insane."

"I don't disagree," Dean sighed. Of course he didn't want to do this, but what other choice did they have?

"One big happy family, are we, then?" Crowley cut in. "Fantastic."

Dean reluctantly turned to him. "You ready to go?"

"Yes. Yes. I am." He started to turn to go. "Sam, keep the home fires burning."

"What are you talking about?"

"Sam's not coming."

Dean felt the knot in his stomach, which had been present since Crowley appeared, tighten. His first concern wasn't that Sam was going to be left behind, it was that that meant he would be in the car alone with Crowley – something he would give almost anything to avoid.

"And why the hell not?" Sam demanded.

Crowley turned to him with narrowed eyes. "Because I don't like you… I don't trust you… and – oh, yes – you keep trying to kill me!"

"There's no damn way. This isn't gonna happen!"

"I'm not asking you, am I? 'Cause you're not invited. I'm asking you." He pointed to Dean. "What's it gonna be?" He glance at Dean's clearly reluctant expression and scoffed. "Gentlemen… enjoy your last few sunsets."

"Wait," Dean sighed. "I'll go." He glanced back at Sam. "What can I say? I believe the guy."

Crowley grinned and Dean followed him outside, getting into the Impala. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. He tried not to look at Crowley, but every so often he found himself glancing over at him – he was always staring out the side window, an uncharacteristically blank expression on his face. Dean was beginning to hope that they may not have to say anything to each other, but then Crowley spoke in a soft voice.

"I was going to tell you, you know – that next day. It might have gone differently if I had told you myself."

"Doubt it," Dean spat, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

Crowley looked over at him. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I had just gone to the bar to talk to you-"

"I thought you said you were there on business."

"I was. My business was concerning you. I thought that was obvious."

"You said that you wanted to see a competitor. How the hell is that concerning me?"

"A competitor?" Crowley shook his head slightly. "You can be really thick sometimes. I worked for Lilith. I wanted her taken down."

For a second everything seemed to fall into place, but there was still one problem… "You never even mentioned Lilith."

"You're right. We talked about Ruby. And if you recall, I advised you to do whatever it took to get rid of her."

"You could have been a little more direct about it!"

"You wouldn't have believed me. I think it's pretty obvious just how much you trust demons. I told you as much as I could without you getting suspicious."

Dean didn't know what to say for a minute. It actually did make since. So… could Crowley be telling the truth? "So where exactly did sleeping with me fit into your grand plan?"

Crowley sighed. "It didn't. That just kind of happened."

"Just kind of happened? You invited me back to your room, you'd been flirting with me the entire time."

"I flirt, that's not exclusive to you. And then I saw that you were interested and I seized the opportunity. Can you really blame me?"

"Yes. That was more than seizing an opportunity, you came back, toyed with me."

"I told you why I came back and I wasn't lying," he argued, a bit of irritation seeping into his voice. "When I slept with you the first time, I had no intention of anything else. I had an opportunity to have sex with the infamous Dean Winchester, and I had to take it. But it was different than I had expected. I told you that you were the one person I couldn't get out of my mind, and I meant it. I tried having sex with others, but I kept thinking about you. So yes, I came back. I knew it was possibly the stupidest decision I had ever made, but I couldn't help it. Dean, I give you my word, everything I said was the truth."

Dean was silent for a few minutes, his mind spinning. "What's the plan for this demon?" he finally asked, trying to convince himself that he didn't believe him.

Crowley sighed, looking away. "My sources say he's in a meeting right now. He'll be available in about an hour. Then we act."

Dean nodded distractedly as he suddenly made a hard left, turning into a motel parking lot.

"Uh… Dean?" Crowley asked, looking up at the building.

Dean just opened the door and got out of the car. "Are you coming, or not?" He strode into the lobby without looking back, trusting that Crowley was behind him.

"Can I help you?" the bored-looking guy at the desk asked.

"Yeah, I need a room for an hour." That got some raised eyebrows as the man glanced between Dean and Crowley. "My friend here will pay." He turned to Crowley and almost laughed – Crowley, always so composed, was the picture of shocked, complete with wide eyes and agape mouth.

"Um, yeah…" Crowley recovered, stepping up to the desk. "Nicest room you have."