Disclaimer: I really don't own much of anything, least of all the Askewniverse.

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Chapter 6: The Crusade

"So, this evil demon bitch named Leilita is out to destroy the world, and only that kid can stop her," asked Jay, pointing a french fry at a sleeping Faith. He, Silent Bob, Bartleby and Bethany sat in the booth of the commercial burger franchise two blocks from Bethany's house.

Jay, Bartleby and Faith were squeezed into the booth as Bethany and Silent Bob sat across from them. The little girl was resting her cheek on Jay's shoulder, but he was still weirded out by the funny looking kid.

"Yes, she's out to destroy the world, as I once was," Bartleby replied, softly, his eyes swimming with emotions.

"Then why'd you fuckin' change your mind?" asked Jay.

"I saw the Light," Bartleby said, simply.

"What's up with all the fuckin' cryptic religious bullshit," Jay asked, shaking his head as he sipped a Diet Coke. "Someone's smokin' a little too much of the weed," he muttered to Silent Bob, out of the side of his mouth. Bartleby slapped Jay upside his head.

"If you didn't all ready know, Angels cannot imbibe alcohol or partake in the thing you call weed," Bartleby snapped irately, giving Jay an elbow in the ribs. He glanced across the table to Silent Bob. "Can I trade you spaces, Big Daddy?" He asked, trying to strike up a camaraderie with the brighter of the two potheads.

Nodding, Silent Bob slipped beside Jay as Bartleby slid next to Bethany.

"So, where do we find the demon bitch," asked Jay.

"I don't know. That's where you two are supposed to come in," said Bartleby.

"I thought you fuckin' Angels saw everything," Jay mumbled, glaring at Bartleby.

"That's the dead, you fuckin' nimrod," Bartleby fired back at the long haired stoner, "and even if that WAS the case, which it's not, I can't watch EVERYbody on this fuckin' planet. I don't have a million eyes, you know."

Bethany sighed, glancing at the sleeping form of her daughter, who was still resting her cheek on an uncomfortable, squirrely Jay's shoulder. "When do we meet up with Rufus and Serendipity?"

"They're waiting for us," said Bartleby. "We'll see them shortly."

"And Loki?" She asked, looking at him.

"Loki won't be joining us," he said, his voice tight. "He backed out."

Jay's eyes widened. "What the fuck do you mean the fuckin' pussy just backed out?! He can't fuckin' back out on our mission! He's supposed to fuckin' help us!"

Bethany sighed, massaging her temples. "I hope this doesn't happen every ten years."

"Loki...had a conflict of faith." The angel smiled, tightly. Bethany could tell he was hurt by Loki's apparent betrayal. "A crisis of faith, if you will," he quicky corrected himself, pushing aside his glass of untouched milk. "We must go alone, without Loki's assistance."

Bethany sighed, resting her head in her arms. She felt Bartleby's hand on her back, but she didn't move. "I'm so tired of this," was all she managed to say. "When will it end?"

"When Good conquers Evil," said the Grigori.

* * *

"I don't like this."

"I know. You said that about fifteen times before," grumbled the demon Azrael, glaring balefully at the blonde haired former angel. "Just shut up and keep quiet. If you tip them off to us, I'll fucking ram a pitchfork up your ass."

Loki sighed and ducked behind a menu as Bartleby and his entourage strode by. "I hate lying to him, Azrael. You know he trusts me blindly."

"That's the point," snapped Azrael, giving Loki a kick to the shin. "Your betrayal of Bartleby is crucial to our plot. If you're having second thoughts, it's too late. You signed your contract." Grinning, Azrael pulled a piece of parchment from inside his white sports jacket and waved it before Loki. At the bottom of the page was his name, signed in blood.

"I know. You don't need to be whippin' that thing out every five seconds and waving it under my nose." Loki picked at his hamburger and fries, absently, as they continued to spy on Bartleby, Bethany and the Prophets. "That kid must be the Last Scion, then."

Azrael set down his menu, flashing Loki a dark look. "Duh."

"You know," snapped Loki, "it's a pity you couldn't have taken on a more pleasant Host. I'm gettin' real sick of your sarcastic comments and your overall bullshit." Loki pushed his french fries around on his plate. "And could you have picked a more inconspicuous outfit? You look like a fuckin' pimp. We should just call you Vanilla fuckin' Ice or somethin'..." Loki threw his uneaten hamburger onto his plate and sighed, stretching out his legs.

"They're leaving." Azrael hushed Loki with a wave of his hand and leaned forward, eavesdropping on Bartleby and his modest following.

"...smells like Azrael...gotta find him before it's too late," Bartleby said.

"Ooh," Azrael grinned, "they're on my trail all ready. Delicious." He rubbed his hands together in glee as a sinister smile spread over his face.

"Azrael, why is that GOOD? Doesn't that mean they're gonna find you and kick your ass?" Loki asked.

"No, everything's going according to my plan. The pawns have moved into place, and soon, Leilita will have accomplished her mission."

"How so?" asked Loki.

"By grouping the only people who can save the earth in one faulty Yugo, I've thereby reduced my margin for error. Less do-gooders around to - well - do good means more opportunity for you and I to wreak havoc, my dimwitted little friend." The demon took his white felt fedora off of the coathook and placed it on his head, winking evilly at Loki. Holding out a hand to the former angel, Azrael sneered, "Come along, Angel of Death. It's time to rediscover your old profession."