Guess who's back, back agaaaiiiiinn! I'm just back from holiday and I CAN'T FREAKING WAIT TO CONTINUE WRITING THIS STORY IT'S JUST SO FUN!

So I'm sorry for the wait but don't worry, updates will be more frequent now that I'm back from holiday Hope you enjoy this chapter guys! Violá

Clara awoke with a start and jumped, momentarily forgetting where she was. She sat up straighter, her currently dishevelled hair falling in front of her face as she stretched to ease the painful crick in her neck. She blinked sleepily, looking down at herself and realising she was still in the same checked shirt and dark skirt she had been in yesterday. Oh God.

She almost gasped when she looked up to see Crowley smirking down at her, seemingly amused by her disorientated state.

"What just happened?" She blurted out unthinkingly, stumbling unsteadily to her feet and brushing herself down.

"I think we just had a sleepover," Crowley grinned, more amused than ever at Clara's bemused expression as she gaped at him in shock. She felt her cheeks flush and struggled hastily to tame her messy hair into something more presentable. She took a shaky breath.

"Jesus."

"Crowley, actually."

She shook her head vigorously and inhaled deeply before meeting Crowley's gaze, trying to feign nonchalance. She pursed her lips in a thin line, cursing her cheeks for reddening so obviously and silently willing them to return to their natural pallor. For God's sake, why did she have to go and practically fall asleep on top of a bloody demon?

"I fell asleep?" She folded her arms defensively and shifted from foot to foot almost nervously, hyper aware that Crowley's eyes were following her every move closely.

"Yes," Crowley raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realise I was so boring."

Clara allowed a slight chuckle to escape her lips, absentmindedly pacing the room. She made sure to avoid eye contact with the demon for fear that her cheeks would flush red hot again.

"Did you fall asleep too then?"

One glance at the expression on Crowley's face and Clara realised her mistake. Resisting the urge to face palm dramatically, she rolled her eyes and chuckled darkly.

"Oh that's right. Demon," She clicked her fingers with a smirk. "Slips my mind sometimes."

"Because I'm such a pleasant guy?" Crowley smiled sweetly, his eyes mocking.

"Oh yeah, such a charmer," Clara could almost feel the sarcasm drip from her tone as Crowley grinned at her widely. "Sleeping's not your thing then? You're really missing out."

Crowley shrugged.

"It's unnecessary. Why waste my time?"

"So you're bad enough to run Hell, but you're too good for sleep?" Clara shook her head, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Wow. What a life."

"There's a lot more to being a demon than you'd think."

"So help me understand," Clara raised her eyebrows and took a tentative step forward. "Is being a demon what you are or is it just your fancy profession?"

Crowley cocked his head to the side and Clara found herself pleased that he actually appeared interested in her question. She supposed most humans wouldn't be sitting around conversing with a demon so casually, but then again, she couldn't really be classed as most humans due to all she had seen and experienced.

Bit of both really," The demon replied, his tone slightly guarded. He leaned back in his chair and let his gaze flicker to the top corner of the room thoughtfully. "My soul did a stint in Hell and became demonised, you know the drill. A demon is what I am. But I had to make some deals here and there to get to where I am now."

"You had to work to get to the top," Clara nodded slowly and raised her eyebrows. "Understandable. Almost… Human."

Crowley grimaced.

"I ain't just a pretty face."

"So," Clara rolled her eyes at his comment, biting back a grin. "Deals? What's that about then?"

"It's a very simple procedure really," Crowley shifted in his chair, suddenly more alert, his gaze alight with interest. "You give me your soul, I give you whatever in return. Money, fame, you name it. Swap a soul for a wish. Now that would make a good slogan."

"Sounds like a dodgy business to me," Clara frowned dubiously, not too keen on the idea of trading her soul for something as fickle as being famous or rich. "So what are you, like a deadly genie or an evil fairy godmother?"

"Beautifully put, Clara," Crowley gave her an unimpressed glare.

"As always," She quipped back, marvelling once more at how easily their conversations always seemed to flow. That fact should worry her, but she couldn't find it within herself to care too much. Instead, another question popped to mind. "So what kind of person would jeopardise their soul for something like that?"

Crowley's eyes widened, feigning innocence but his mischievous smirk gave him away.

"Well, let's just say when people are checking in the millions they just won, most of them shouldn't all be thanking God. Anyone can be persuaded if you give them just a little push."

"Insane," Clara shook her head in disbelief. "Completely barking mad."

"If you say so," Crowley shrugged, his demeanour casual. Clara quirked an eyebrow at him in warning.

"Well my soul's not up for negotiation, demon boy. Just so you know where we stand."

A hint of a sinister smirk had just begun to slip into place on Crowley's face when the Tardis rumbled forebodingly. Clara shrieked at the unexpected interruption, tumbling to the floor as the ground shook violently. Crowley looked down at her and grinned widely.

"What can I say, women just fall at my feet."

"Shut up you," Clara snapped with a gasp, struggling to her feet and attempting to steady herself as the Doctor burst through the door. Clara took in his dishevelled appearance and the look of wild panic in his eyes.

"Doctor, what's happening?!" She yelped, stumbling over to the Time Lord as quickly as the unsteady floor would allow.

"Clara," The Doctor's eyes finally focused on her as he grasped both her arms and looked at her in earnest. "Clara, Clara, Clara. Finally. Are you alright?"

"I-"

"This is bad, very bad," The Doctor released her and began pacing, though he stopped and whirled around to face her again when he realised he couldn't walk in a straight line. His eyebrows were drawn together tightly in concern. "Took me absolutely ages to find you. The Tardis moved some corridors here, took away a room or two there. But I've found you now and that's good," He paused to take a deep breath. "Only it's not. It's not good at all."

"What's going on, Doctor," Clara gasped, fear flooding her system as he breath caught in her throat. She froze as she heard a chilling chuckle to her left and turned to see Crowley looking more than amused at their distress. He spread his hands out in a chastising gesture.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" He questioned smugly.

"Figured what out?!" Clara yelled, quickly becoming frustrated that she had no control over this situation. "Doctor, what is he talking about?!"

"The Tardis it's…" The Doctor hesitated as the ship trembled again. "It's filling up with gas. Extremely toxic gas. We have about ten minutes before-"

"Before we're on the highway to Hell or the stairway to Heaven," Crowley crowed delightedly, not caring in the slightest about the imminent danger they were currently in. "Game over."

"Game bloody over?!" Clara yelled, eyes wide as dread washed over her.

"Language-"

"Oh shut up, Doctor!" She didn't bother trying to keep her voice down anymore if this was the last time she would be able to use it, she might as well be heard. "What are we going to do?"

"I- I don't know," The Doctor gritted his teeth together and tugged at his hair agitatedly. "I'm sorry, Clara, I'm sorry for getting you involved-"

Crowley cleared his throat loudly and the two whipped around to look at him expectantly. The demon still kept that infuriating smirk plastered onto his face. He raised his hand.

"Before we get into the soppy 'goodbye's' and 'I love you's', may I make a suggestion?"

"No-"

"Go ahead," Clara urged quickly, interrupting the Doctor who looked at her in surprise. She took a step forward and looked at Crowley earnestly. "Just make it good."

Crowley coughed lightly and shook the shackles on his hands suggestively with a raised brow.

"No," The Doctor shook his head as he realised what Crowley was on the verge of suggesting. "No, no, no. Don't even say it."

"Wasn't talking to you, E.T.," Crowley sneered, tilting his head to address Clara instead. "Clara, you release me and I can zap us all out of here Star Trek style. One second is all it will take, all I'm asking for in return-"

"Is your freedom," Clara cooped on immediately, mulling the idea over in her head for a moment. Every fibre in her body was telling her that this was a very, very, bad idea, and it went against every basic instinct she had to trust him. But what other choice did they have? She turned to the Doctor sharply.

"Let him go," She ordered quietly but firmly.

"Clara-"

"Do it, Doctor!" She was beginning to lose her patience, she didn't want to lose her and her best friend's lives as well.

"Clara, I can't, even if I wanted to," The Time Lord yelled in agitation. "The Tardis locked my sonic screwdriver in a safe! Nothing I can do will open it at this stage, not in time anyway, and that's the only thing I have that will release him from those chains."

"Oh God," Clara muttered, resisting the urge to sink to the ground in despair. "We're all going to die."

"Well that's it then, plan A tanked," Crowley sighed in exasperation. He glared at the Doctor. "What's plan B then, eh? In fact, why don't we try plan C for Catastrophic Demise?"

"You're not helping this situation," The Doctor snarled, clenching his fists in frustration.

"Neither are you, by the looks of it," Crowley replied sharply, narrowing his dark eyes at the Time Lord. "Typical isn't it, Doc? People in your general vicinity don't usually tend to have much in the way of a lifespan."

The Doctor scowled, his expression murderous. He turned to Clara.

"Can I kill him?"

"No, he's our only chance of getting out of here alive," Clara replied sternly. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath to steady herself. "Crowley, please, is there anything else we can do?"

Crowley frowned for a second, before something lit up in his eyes. He snapped his fingers abruptly.

"I'm going to need a piece of paper and a pen," He demanded sharply. His eyes widened in impatience when no one made a move. "Now!"

The Doctor hesitated before grabbing a crumpled piece of paper from a derelict table nearby and Clara fumbled around in her pockets, her heart skipping a beat in joy as her fingers clasped around a pen.

With the two objects in hand, Crowley immediately began to scribble a quick sketch of something which strongly resembled the type of symbols Clara had been seeing a lot of recently. Crowley tossed the pen to the side where it clattered to the ground and thrust the paper at Clara.

"Grab some of that spray paint from over there and draw this anywhere inside this circle," He ordered hastily. Clara nodded quickly and shot the Doctor a grateful smile as he tossed the can of paint to her.

She threw herself down on the ground and shook the can, examining the picture for a brief moment before attempting to recreate it. She couldn't believe she was blindly trusting this demon and taking his orders.

"What's the point of this exactly?" The Doctor questioned, and Clara detected a hint of fascination in his tone.

"It will stop me from being sent down to Hell when you exorcise me."

Clara's head shot up.

"When we what?!"

"It's the only way you're going to get me out of these bloody nuisances," Crowley growled as he shook the handcuffs again. "You exorcise me, I'll have a little scout around, hunt down this magic screwdriver and save the day. Just call me Superman."

Clara stood up, eyeing the symbol she had just painted suspiciously. She had never been that exceptional at art, but she figured it would pass. She frowned at Crowley.

"You're saying you can break into that safe, bring the sonic screwdriver back here, hop back into your body and let us unchain you so we can all make it out of here alive?"

"Correct. What can I say, miracles don't just happen in the Bible."

"And you can manage all this without arms or legs?" Clara raised an eyebrow dubiously. "You're just gunna leave your body behind like you're taking off a pair of socks?"

"Once again, beautifully put, darling."

"Not to put a downer on things," The Doctor piped up, his eyebrows drawn. "But I'm seeing a lot of flaws in this plan of yours."

"If you have any better ideas, by all means don't be shy," Crowley quipped back, the expression on his face indicating that he was sure his idea was the only plausible one.

"Look, the Doctor's right," Clara found herself saying, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. "We can't trust you. You could just leave us, or even kill us. Just putting that out there."

Crowley rolled his shoulder back lazily and threw his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Darling, I could chew you up and spit you out quicker than you can say Hells Bells but I'm not going to. A deal is a deal. I help you, you give me my freedom. I keep my promises."

"Well excuse me if I don't take your word for it," The Doctor replied wearily, beginning to pace the room once more. "It's not as if we're signing on the dotted line here, we have no proof that you won't just do away with us once you're free."

"By all means, fill out a bloody document if you want but time's a wastin'!" Crowley yelled, his lack of patience getting the better of him. He took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. "Honestly, I've never met two people so determined to die."

"Can't trust you," Clara closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a headache coming on. "You're a demon. A monster."

"Love it when you talk dirty," Crowley smirked.

"Stop flirting you two," The Doctor grunted. "We don't have time for this, we need to make a decision."

Clara nodded, the motion causing her head to spin.

"Why should we trust you?" She asked breathlessly, finding the air was becoming gradually thicker. Crowley's eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, sweet mother of sin, don't," He scoffed. "Don't trust anyone. Ever. But like I said, I keep my deals once I make them. Pinky promise."

"I…" Clara bit her lips and shot the Doctor a look. She could tell he was considering it, however much he didn't want to. Crowley sighed.

"Fine. I promise. I swear," He looked at Clara earnestly. "I swear on my own soul."

Clara managed a weak laugh.

"Crowley, you don't have a soul."

"That's beside the point."

Clara turned to face the Doctor, pleading with him using her eyes.

"Doctor, I think we should do this."

"I know, I just-" The Doctor inhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "I just don't understand why he would help us."

"Trust me, Doc, helping you is not on my bucket list," Crowley snapped, his eyes narrowing threateningly. "In fact, I'd rather not even be within spitting distance of you. Except for at your funeral, at which I will cheer and celebrate with a glass of strong brandy."

"I've half a mind to toss you into a volcano-"

"Stop bickering you two, please!" Clara yelped, shaking her head in exasperation. "Crowley, fine. It's a deal."

"But-"

"End of, Doctor!" She cut him off and made a zipping motion across her lips. If they were going to do this, they had to do it now. She turned to Crowley. "Just… Behave, alright? I mean it. Cross me and you'll be taking holy water shots."

"You've got a sharp tongue on you," Crowley smiled slowly. "It suits you."

"Such a flirt," Clara found herself smirking before she could stop herself. Crap. Crap. She had to stop accidentally flirting with the King of Hell.

Crowley's grin widened, his eyes glinting with mirth. Clara stiffened.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," The cheeky grin remained on Crowley's face. "You're the one doing the talking, you little check-wrapped nightmare."

Clara looked down at her checked shirt and glowered at his choice of words.

"I hate you, just remember that," She raised her eyebrows sternly, unable to stop just the hint of a smile plying around her lips.

"Trust me, darling, no one hates me more than I do," Crowley replied, his voice light but holding a slightly dark undertone. Clara frowned slightly, wondering what exactly he meant by that. She made a mental note to ask him at a later date, if they even managed to survive this.

Clara picked up the dusty old book, feeling a shiver run down her spine as she opened it carefully.

"Clara," The Doctor's tone was gentle. "I can do this if you want."

"No," Clara replied softly. "No, it's alright. I can do this."

She looked at Crowley again quickly, suddenly feeling extremely nervous.

"I…" She paused, struggling to take a deep breath but finding that there wasn't enough air to take in. She gulped, knowing she would have to hurry. They didn't have much time. "What if something goes wrong? What if it doesn't work? The last time…"

"How about you get it right?" Crowley spoke through gritted teeth, his gaze deadly. Clara examined the serious expression on his face, no trace of laughter or joking left. He almost seemed… Nervous. The thought of Crowley being nervous about anything put Clara on edge. She froze for a moment and bit her lip as she made eye contact with Crowley, her breathing becoming uneven. She told herself it was just the toxic gas beginning to mingle with the air.

"Fine," She relented breathlessly, the toxic gas seeming to be affecting her more than the Doctor at this point. She guessed it was something to do with him owning two individual hearts.

"Hurry up then, we don't have all day," Crowley retorted. He inhaled deeply and breathed out deliberately. "Mmm, smell that toxic gas."

"Alright, alright," Clara mumbled, her fingers fumbling with the thin pages.

She dropped his gaze for a moment as she located the correct page of the book, then looked up at Crowley again as a sudden thought struck her.

"Will it hurt?" She whispered fearfully, unable to keep the slight tremor from seeping into her voice. Crowley seemed taken aback by her last minute question.

"Just let's get it over with, shall we?" He stated bluntly, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. Clara's trembling fingers found the words she was looking for, and she swallowed hard.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio," Clara struggled to keep focused on the words as her head began to swim. "Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…"

She gasped for breath, knowing that she was running out of time. She cast a quick glance at Crowley, who was clutching the armrests of the seat painfully tightly.

"Ergo omnis legio diabolica…" Clara struggled to breathe as Crowley began to squirm, choking on the same red smoke Clara had witnessed when she had attempted to exorcise him the first time. She really hoped she was pronouncing the words right. "… Adjuramus te… Cessa decipere humanas creaturas-"

She gasped and jumped back as the red smoke seemed to win its battle with Crowley, billowing from his open mouth up towards the ceiling where it began to swirl with an abundance of energy. Clara watched in awe as the smoke swirled higher, finally leaving Crowley's body behind, which slumped in its seat, eyes shut.

The smoke almost seemed to dance as it swam around the room in a manner of organised chaos, flitting past Clara as she stared at it in shock.

"Crowley?" She murmured, watching as the red smoke bombarded the door with such force that it flung it off its hinges, allowing Crowley to escape the room.

She looked at the Doctor, expecting that his expression of shock mirrored hers almost exactly.

She took a few quick shallow breaths. The toxic gas was working its way in here quickly, and all she could do was slump against the wall, hoping against hope that the King of Hell would keep up his side of the deal.

Damn, they made a deal with the devil.

Fun chapter to write, one of my favourite's so far I think :D So excited to start writing the next one, but I think for now I must sleep. Or watch Netflix. Hmmm, decisions decisions.

So there it is folks, hope you liked it!

Run you clever boy, and remeMBER TO REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK YAY!