"You look like you are in need of company." The woman was brunette and short. Her tight black top with a white lightning bolt on it showed too much of her cleavage and her voice had an unpleasant nasal background to it as if you talked to someone arrogant. Her lower lip was penetrated by a silver metal stud which made her lips look like they were permanently pouting and too much silverware decorated her neck. Uninvited she sat down in front of Lucifer and eyed him without trying to hide it. Lucifer scowled at her.

"What makes you think that?" he asked her while simultaneously imagining thousand different ways to kill her in a most gruesome manner. Impaling on hot iron or throwing her into boiling water were currently fighting for the top spot. How dare this hairless ape speaking to him as if she was his equal! Even going so far as…hitting on him! Oh, how Lucifer wished he could kill her for this profanity.

"Maybe I am contemplating how to kill everyone in this diner without anyone escaping," he continued. The brunette laughed at him, obviously thinking he was joking.

"Why would a handsome man like you have such thoughts?" she purred and leaned over the table further showing Lucifer the hidden depths of her décolleté.

"I would start with you," Lucifer ignored her. "I would ram this knife into your heart. Before anyone would notice that I just murdered you I would dash to the doors, locking them. Meanwhile the first guest would notice you slumped over the table, blood soaking into the tablecloth, your lifeless eyes staring into his, and – because the guest next to us is an elderly woman – would start screaming and probably have a fatal heart attack. Until the other guests would finally notice what´s going on, I would have already killed the family over there, bashing their children´s heads on the table and killing the parents with the knifes on their table. That only leaves five other guests, who – in their panicked state – won´t be able to put up any kind of resistance or escape plan; not that there is possibility for any, seeing that the owner of this establishment has only installed one door to save money. While they would scramble away from me to preserve their pathetic lives I would take the kitchen knife the cook is currently using and stab one after another. Within five to seven minutes everyone in this diner would be dead and no one would mourn them." While Lucifer had talked the woman´s face had slowly turned white and her eyes became wider and wider in horror the further Lucifer elaborated.

"You´re a sick bastard!" she hissed at him and stormed away. Lucifer just smirked. That was the exact scenery Dean found when he returned from the bar with a beer in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He looked at the leaving woman, then to Lucifer.

"Wow," he said as he sat down, "What have you done to that chick? She looked as if you´ve told her that you planned to murder everyone here." Dean made a gesture encompassing the whole room. Lucifer´s smirk grew wider as he heard Dean´s word.

"Now you´re freaking me out," Dean chuckled. "Why haven´t you tapped her?" Lucifer sobered immediately.

"I have certain standards which this woman failed to meet," he sneered derogatorily. "She was truly pathetic." That he would never – even at his lowest – derogate himself to another human´s touch was left unsaid.

"Harsh words," Dean said and nibbled at his beer.

"Harsh, but true," Lucifer replied while gazing at his water. Within him he could feel the tiny bit of Grace that had been restored previously. It wasn´t much – next to nothing compared to his Archangel status – but its warmth that flowed through his body soothed Lucifer more than he cared to admit. It wouldn't do much; it couldn't heal nor could it be used against a foe in any effective way, but it was testament to the fact that Lucifer still was an Angel and that he possessed something that humanity never would and what made him their better. Lucifer didn't know what caused the sudden increase of Grace within him: He had been near death, in clear emotional distress and Dean, his only change at getting back at Michael and his father had been in grave danger. So, what had it been? That was what Lucifer had mulled over the last few days.

"You´re doing it again," Dean commented, pulling Lucifer out of his thoughts. "This whole 'I-am-in-deep-thought-about-something-philosophical'-thing. You have this certain expression when you do it. It´s kind of funny." Lucifer´s expression soured when Dean at Dean´s description. He could not have it that the human was able to discern his body language so easily. It was the fault of this human vessel and his near-human status. When he had been at full power no-one would have been able to anticipate him. He had been regal and awe-inspiring. And now every lowly human was able to deduce what he was thinking only because his human vessel betrayed him by showing his weaknesses to everyone that looked.

"And now you´re mad that I mentioned that I have a name for that face," Dean said cheekily and grinned. He was about to add something to his statement when his mobile rang. Dean looked at the display and his eyes widened.

"I have to take that," Dean said and rushed out of the diner. Lucifer kept sitting at the table and watched Dean talking animatedly to someone. At first he whispered, one hand covering the earpiece, than he shouted angrily with narrowed eyes. Then the person at the other end seemed to say something and Dean´s expression morphed into that of a scolded child while his whole posture sunk together. Before Dean hung up the other person seemed to say something nice for he began to smile and the tension in his posture lessened.

When Dean came back Lucifer pretended to study the inscription of his bottle of water and wondered if the humans were smart enough to recognize that the water which was sold to them at horrendous prices was practically the same as the one that came out of their faucets. From what he knew about humanity, he doubted it.

"Who was that on the phone?" Lucifer asked when it became clear that Dean wouldn't give up the information unprompted. Dean looked up.

"Someone I hadn't thought I would ever hear of again," he answered. "Another hunter. Bobby´s his name. He´s kind of the intelligence guy all hunters call in the States if they want a new hunt. He is like a…friend to me." From the pause and Dean´s fond expression when he mentioned the name Lucifer could deduce that this Bobby-character was probably more than just a friend of his, but he didn't think that further prying would give him any more information. If he had learned anything about Dean the last few days, it was that he valued his privacy and thoughts like no other. He could try again when Dean would be in an emotional more unstable state and more likely to give in into his demands of more private information.

"He wants me to meet us," Dean continued. "He wants to meet you and make you do all those tests everybody has to go through to confirm that you are human and mean no harm to me." Quietly murmuring he continued: "I´m a friggin´ grown man. I can look out for myself." He took another sip from his beer while Lucifer contemplated the situation. This Bobby-persona obviously meant something to Dean and could easily influence him in a way that was detrimental to his own plans. From what Dean had just told Lucifer was already regarded with suspicion by the other hunter and this would probably continue until Bobby had assured that Lucifer wasn't a danger towards Dean. As long as this wasn't the case he would likely continue to warn Dean off of him which – even though it wouldn't make Dean suddenly leave him – would feed a subconscious mistrust which could influence Dean´s future decisions. Lucifer had to prevent that at all costs and the easiest way to do so was to meet this Bobby to assuage his suspicion.

Lucifer wasn't concerned at all about the possibility that the hunter would be able to discover that he wasn't human. Angel´s appearances on earth were seldom and even if they happened often not witnessed by humans. As far as he knew there wasn't any test hunters could do to recognize angels. And even if they had; with the low amount of Grace Lucifer currently possessed he doubted that those test would yield any results.

"It wouldn't do any harm, would it?" Lucifer said. "And if this Bobby has all the information hunters need it would be more than useful for us to pay him a visit. As far as I know we´re still looking for a new hunt. Maybe he has one." Dean seemed to mull over this. Lucifer strongly believed that he would take the bait and consent to his suggestion. Dean wanted this Bobby´s approval if his conflicted expression was anything to go by and if it also brought a new hunt to pursue…how could he say no to that?

"Yeah," Dean said absentmindedly. "You´re probably right. There´s no use in making Bobby unnecessary angry. That man can hold a grudge like no one else." He smiled at the end of his statement, probably remembering something from his past. "Then let´s go!"

They weren't able to make it to Bobby within one day, so now they were staying at a motel halfway between. Lucifer and Dean had a room each, though they were connected in case something happened. When the clerk had seen them, he had instantly wanted to give them one room with a single double bed. For a short moment a hurt expression flickered over Dean´s face. Within seconds it vanished again and Dean informed the overzealous clerk that they weren´t gay and would have two separate rooms. Lucifer refrained from inquiring about that strange occurrence simply because Dean vanished in his room with only a clipped "Good night" and left Lucifer standing outside.

Said former Archangel was now sitting on the bed and concentrated on his Grace. Lucifer could feel it hum under his skin; that sweet embodiment of his power. He coaxed it; led it to the tip of his fingers. His fingers started to glow and they became somehow transparent so that he could see his Grace swirling around underneath. The golden threads of power were in constant motion: Interweaving and creating complex patterns but then suddenly falling apart only to start anew.

Lucifer watched the spectacle for a while. It was soothing, for it was physical proof to him that there were still parts of his old self buried underneath the sickening humanity he was wrapped in. He concentrated harder on his Grace and slowly started to push it past the confining presence of his body. Slowly an orb of golden light rose from his fingertips, submerging the whole room into a semi-golden glow. It wasn't a very practical application of his Grace and Lucifer could already feel the fatigue setting in, but he kept the light a little longer; basking in its otherworldly glow. Then he vanished it and the room fell into darkness with the streetlights outside the only source of illumination.

Lucifer fell asleep in the hope that soon useless lights wouldn't be the only thing he would be able to summon.

Lucifer was kind of disappointed when Dean stopped the Impala´s engine on a junkyard. He had imagined that the unofficial head of the American hunters would reside somewhere more dignified and worthy of his status. Not in the midst of the waste of human consumerism in a hut that looked like it would fall apart any minute. At least he wasn't a dilettante when it came to the Supernatural: Lucifer was able to discern many different symbols and traps meant to deny any non-human entity entry into the yard. None of it would have an effect on Angels.

Dean took a deep breath and tried to collect himself.

"No matter what Bobby will demand from you," he began, "do it or he will blast you off his yard with his shotgun. And I don't believe that's something you want to experience." Lucifer had to supress his instinctual answer that he would never submit himself to the will of a dirty human and nodded instead. He would play by even if it meant dirtying himself by interacting with this filth.

His silent consent seemed to be enough for Dean and soon enough they stood in front of the house. The door was opened by an old-looking male human. He wore dirty clothes, littered with stains of oil and other substances. His face was obscured by a brown beard in the same brown colour as his hair on top of which a red cap sat. His brown eyes shone with warmth as he regarded Dean and became significantly colder when he looked at Lucifer.

Lucifer had to hold back a sneer when he looked upon the human whose approval he had to earn. This old, dirty and useless waste of space was to be the person who could unmake all of his machinations? This fat alcoholic – if the empty beer bottles Lucifer could glimpse behind the man were anything to go by – was the one to have a hold over him; Lucifer, the brightest and purest Angel of them all? Lucifer wanted to scream at this injustice but forced a tiny smile on his face instead.

"Bobby!" Dean exclaimed. The man just handed both of them a glass of water.

"Drink," Bobby ordered in a gruff voice and Lucifer bristled at that. But before he could say anything he saw Dean drinking from the glass and so he followed suit. When the water touched his lips Lucifer could feel warmth spreading throughout his whole body; ejecting any fatigue and muscle soreness that was still left over from their long car ride.

Holy water, Lucifer deduced, to test if we were possessed by demons.

When both he and Dean handed the glasses back without any negative reactions, the tension in Bobby´s stand lessened visibly. But if Lucifer thought that this had been all, he was soon disabused from this notion. Dean and he had to undergo one test after another which became more obscure with each one. All of them failed to oust them as bloodthirsty monsters.

"Come it, you idjit," Bobby said and smiled at Dean while he gave Lucifer a more neutral expression. The hallway they entered was full of many different kinds of knick-knack: broken artefacts, different kind of tools – both for working at cars and on the house – and guns which had been disassembled. At the end of the hallway they turned left into a small kitchenette which opened up to the living room which had been turned into a library.

Now Lucifer could understand why the old man was considered the hunter´s top address for information. All four walls were covered with shelves; the books within often laying atop each other to use as much room as possible. Lucifer recognized many books, many of which he thought humanity did not longer possess. The air smelled of old paper, leather and parchment which contributed to the aura of peacefulness that the whole room exuded. Lucifer´s respect for the old hunter rose by a few notches – he would not instantly kill him when he had his powers back but would let a demon possess the man to get the information that was stored in his mind instead.

"Luke?" Lucifer´s contemplative mood was destroyed when Dean tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to face the blonde hunter.

"Ehm," said hunter continued, "Bobby and I haven't seen each other for a quite a while, so would it be okay…" He let the end of the sentence unfinished, but Lucifer understood.

"I will browse this magnificent collection of books while you catch up," he said.

"Do you even know how to handle such old books, boy?" Bobby asked and only the lack of Grace hindered Lucifer to instantly smite the insolent human into nothingness.

"Indeed I do," he pressed out instead. Bobby gave him an unimpressed glance but didn't discuss further. Lucifer turned around and walked towards the books. He heard the doors closing behind him.

Boy, he thought angrily, I am older than your whole race of hairless apes; older than this universe itself and you dare to call me boy!

When Bobby turned around he didn't say anything for quite a while which automatically put Dean on the defensive (which was probably intended by Bobby).

"So, that´s the new hunting partner?" Bobby asked with raised eyebrows.

"Is anything wrong with him?" Dean asked, suddenly concerned that the test had revealed something which he had failed to spot.

"No, he is as human as you can get," Bobby answered. "So there´s no need to get you panties in a twist. I won´t interfere in your choice of hunting partner as long as they are human." He paused for a few moments. "I´ve heard of what happened with your father…"

"How?" Dean interrupted the older hunter which earned him an annoyed glare.

"Your brother called to inform me," Bobby said, "wanted to let me know that he left the hunter life behind and got into Stanford." Dean swallowed. "I won´t force you to talk about it, because God only knows what a task it is to get a Winchester talking about his feelings, but if you ever need something: Don´t be a stranger, got it?" Dean just nodded. That was exactly why he loved Bobby so much: The man simply understood him. From the moment on he and his brother had stayed at Bobby´s for the first time Bobby had always known what those two boys with a dead mother and a more and more absent father needed; be it books and knowledge for Sam or simply a baseball game for Dean. It meant so much to Dean that there was a place where he would be unconditionally welcomed, no matter how much he screwed up. He wished he could admit that to the older man who was like a second father to him.

"That's enough of this chick-flick," he said instead. Bobby just shook his head and smiled. Then he suddenly turned sombre.

"Your new hunting partner and what happened with your dad weren't the only reasons I called you," he said. "I have a lead on the yellow-eyed-demon."

AN: DUMDUM! So what is this lead exactly? And why does Bobby tell Dean and not John? Will there be a heart to heart between Lucifer and Bobby? Follow and find out!

Read my SPN/HP-crossover called "It´s not the End of the World (At least not for me)". It´s already finished but only the first out of two chapters is published. Thank you ^.^