Sarah awoke groggily,her head was pounding and everything seemed to sway. The bed. The floor. Nothing would stay stationary, or in focus. Pulling her shirt and jeans on she gingerly made her way downstairs. The house seemed completely empty, reflecting the way she felt at that very moment. Empty.
Seeing that damned angel again had stirred emotions and memories she had spent years pushing away and suppressing. Turning a corner she saw a flash of red before her eyes which blinded her. She stumbled to the floor and when her vision focused, she saw a man kneeling before her. His hands were covered in his own blood, which flowed freely from his gut. She couldn't see his face but knew who he was. Slowly he raised his head to face her. A manic grin spread across his face when he saw her there. Blood seeped from the gaps in his teeth dribbling down his chin, his body slowly getting more limp as his life force flowed away.
"Looks like i'll be seeing you in hell kiddo." He rasped, more blood oozed down his now open lips, he then began laughing a horrid, guttural noise the same noise that haunted her waking and sleeping hours. Bile rose in her throat and she bolted into a back corner of one of the studies, breathing rapidly, unable to take in enough air, she dragged herself under a heavy desk and curled into a ball, sobbing hysterically.
Bobby shook her awake. Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin in fright.
"Hey it's okay..." He frowned at her paleness. "You look like you need somethin' to eat girl." He helped her up onto the chair by the desk she had hidden beneath. Sarah noticed the desk graced a bottle of Crowley's favourite vintage and a matching set of crystal glasses. She took the stopper out and poured them both a drink.
"I think this is what I need right now." Bobby watched her warily as she downed the shot, but took his glass nevertheless. They moved themselves and the scotch to the library where the tablet was and she continued her translations while they drank and talked.
Sarah had amazed even Bobby Singer with the amount of liquor she could hold. But eventually it took its toll on her and she fell asleep again. He moved her to a chaise in the room and closed the door behind him.
"Poor kid" he mumbled under his breath. They talked awhile but she was very guarded whenever he asked about her parents or her past. She kept looking behind him as though something were there that was frightening her. Only it was empty space. Something truly awful must have happened to her for her to be seeing things.
He heard footsteps coming toward the room and subconsciously squared himself up, unsurprisingly, it was Crowley. He was reading through one of the translation ledgers and didn't bother looking up at Bobby even when he stopped him from entering the room.
"This is my house you know." He said, finally looking up from the book.
"She's asleep in there." Bobby growled.
"Well then I should wake her. She should be doing her job." He wiggled the leather bound book, as though it would make the fact more obvious.
He opened the door and she was in fact asleep. Her breath smelled strongly of whiskey and an empty glass tilted in her light grip. He removed the glass from her grip, making her stir. She awoke groggy and unaware of her surroundings, she giggled when her eyes eventually focused on Crowley.
"What on earth are you doing," Crowley waved the near empty bottle of scotch at her. He had intended the words to be harsh but they came out softly.
"Trying to keep the demons away." She slurred then laughed again, pointing at him. "Didn't work though did it? Though I suppose I'm trying to keep angels away really..." She rambled while Crowley hoisted her to sit upright "...load of good those bloody guardian angels are, hey!...maybe I have you as a guardian demon instead...there's a thought..."
Crowley grumbled then sat behind his desk. "So I take it more translations are out of the cards for this afternoon then." He began to continue reading through what she had already done. It was very comprehensive, she was doing as good a job as the Tran boy- except at a greater disadvantage of not being able to magically read the inscriptions.
"I'm sorry Crowley." Sarah groaned, realising she had disappointed him.
"Well, don't let it happen again." He cleared his throat and poured himself a Craig. "Particularly as I mean to take you with me on an excursion tomorrow."
"Excursion?" She slurred.
"Yes, we are looking for Lucifer's crypts... There are several, and I need you to try and verify which ones are the real deal. So- a few less drinks eh?" There was no response from her so he dropped the book below eye level to look at her.
Sarah seemed to be falling asleep again. So Crowley merely grumbled, rolled his eyes and let her drop off. He tried concentrating on his paperwork, however he found himself glancing over at her sleeping form often.
He watched her for too long. He knew that. Glanced over at her far too many times. Watched her shift on the sofa from one position to another for hours and fought the urge to brush her hair from her face. He was elated and frustrated, the desire was slowly driving him mad.
The fact that he had figured out that the 'phantom' emotions he was experiencing were hers, reaching him from their psychic link only made things worse at that moment. He could potentially do with her as he had so many others when he wanted a partner; have his way in the evenings and when he saw fit, then return to business as usual. And never having to worry about any consequences.
It would be so easy to have her, even tonight. She had responded to him every time they had gotten close. But he needed her intelligence. Her work was important to him, not to mention the powers she had and still stood to inherit. But also, from the depths of some tiny part of him that wasn't evil- he didn't want to hurt her.
Crowley growled quietly in frustration and rubbed his temples. But then he thought of how her lips felt on his, the feel of fabric falling from her body and the scent of her. His pulse began to quicken, his collar grew stiflingly warm and his chest tightened. He got up abruptly and left the room. He needed to cool off. This was ridiculous.
"What am I doing?" He asked himself. Maybe he just needed a release. Yes. That was it. It had been too long that's all. Gulping down a scotch before pulling on his coat he left his mansion. Knowing exactly where to go.