THE PENTHOUSE - NOON

Welcome back to The Torture of Samandriel, already in progress. Crowley was locking Samandriel into the coffin table's manacles - oh, hey, it has manacles... gross - and Balthazar watched the proceedings with a mixture of boredom and disgust. He snapped his fingers and the single on the jukebox changed to "Wuthering Heights" by Kate Bush.

"Have you been schtupping my jukebox?" Crowley asked with a sneer.

"I thought we were torturing," Balthazar said.

"Not me, you himbo!" Crowley barked. "Don't touch my torture playlist." He snapped again and the record switched back.

Balthazar got into his Skittles and started idly tapping keys on the piano as Crowley got a scalpel out.

"What rhymes with 'sex machine'?" Balthazar asked thoughtfully.

Crowley mulled it over a second and smiled. "Aging Queen?" he asked, then flinched as a handful of Skittles rained down on him. "Would you stop being playful for five minutes so I can cut the-."

"Arsenic and Old Lace is on tonight," Balthazar said.

That got Crowley's interest. "What time?" he asked.

"Six o'clock," Balthazar said.

"Are they playing it more than once?" Crowley asked.

"You only buy TV Guide when we're on the cover," Balthazar said. "Tisk."

"Well, this might take a while," Crowley said, then turned to Samandriel. "Unless... you wanna tell us right now?"

Samandriel glared at him, breathing heavily through flared nostrils: if he could have, he would've ripped Crowley's throat out.

Balthazar shook his head and put down the Skittles. "The trouble is, you're not used to torturing angels," he said grimly. "I am - we have our spots. Let me work on him."

Butcher looked around, like he expected to find himself on Candid Camera. "You're... gonna torture the angel?" he asked, snickering. "Is that what you pi-."

Crowley cleared his throat loudly.

"Is that what you guys in Heaven do all day?" Butcher asked, with a somewhat facetious level of respect.

"Well, Breaking Bad wasn't on back then," Crowley said, "they had to make their own fun." He turned to Balthazar. "Are you serious?" he asked quietly.

"Send everyone out," Balthazar said seriously. "I don't want them to see this."

"You heard the man," Crowley said to his henchmen. "Chop-chop, stab-stab, I want every one of you crapknats on the ground floor. Now!"

Everyone started heading out - Dolly was still recovering on the floor, so Shipley and Lydecker had to drag her out by her feet.

When all the henchmen were clear, Crowley turned to Balthazar and clapped his hands together enthusiastically. "Now, let's do some messed up-."

"You, too," Balthazar said, folding his arms resolutely. "Leave."

Crowley gawked. "Oh, don't even tease," he said. "There's no way I'm missing this. Come on, I've never seen an angel torture anyone. Not even on Cinemax."

"Exactly," Balthazar said. "I don't want you to see me do this. You'll lose all respect for me."

"But I don't respect you now," Crowley whined.

Balthazar started waving him out, like a fly from a kitchen. "Go on, now, shoo," he said.

Crowley started backing up. "This is such crap," he bitched. "I torture things in front of you all the time. Quid pro quo, Taz."

"Scoot."

Crowley tried to pull a sincere face. "If anything," he said softly, "I think it would bring us closer-."

Balthazar pointed at the door. "Out!"

Crowley let out a disappointed huff. What a pisser. He headed for the door, grumbling as he went, "All the other angels let their demons watch them torture..."

After a moderate amount of glaring and sulking, Crowley left the room. As soon as he had, Balthazar swept a hand through the air and the sliding glass wall slid shut, effectively locking off the room. He walked slowly over to Samandriel and knelt beside him, smiling.

"Hello, Smandy," Balthazar said.

"Brother," Samandriel said breathlessly, "get me out of here. Please, while there's still time."

"Is that what happens now?" Balthazar asked coldly.

"I came back for you," Samandriel, seeming genuinely confused. "We can leave here, together."

"You son of a bitch," Balthazar said under his breath.

"Does Crowley have you captive here?" Samandriel asked. "Some spell? ...Or is what they're saying about you really true? Have you really gone insane?"

Balthazar couldn't help an empty, somewhat sad laugh. "It's nice to know I've given you all something fun to chat about," he said, "but you don't say when this ends. I'm in control now."

"No, Balthazar," Samandriel said. "Enough is enough. You don't know what you're saying, you can't. To aid the King of Hell in his extermination of the angels? How could you work for-."

"With," Balthazar said listlessly.

"What?" Samandriel asked.

"With," Balthazar reiterated. "I work with him, we're a team... Like Holmes and Watson-. If they were playing themselves on telly and were secretly killing massive amounts of whatever Watson is."

"I knew you once," Samandriel said, angry, but almost weeping. "You were a loyal sentry. To even listen to a demon, let alone the devil-. Can't you see how far you've fallen? How did this happen?"

Balthazar shrugged and smirked with some affection. "Well, I started to spank him, but it just sort of ended up like this."

"I never would've pegged you for a traitor," Samandriel said.

"Mm, that's what this whole thing's about to them, isn't it?" Balthazar said. "Which side of the line I'm on? Not that it matters, but I've done more good for humanity working with Crowley than I ever did thralled to Vampira."

"Naomi's dead," Samandriel said darkly.

"You're welcome," Balthazar said.

"Brother, you've been deceived," Samandriel said, a hint of a threat in his voice. "I know you're proud, that's always been your sin. But it's not too late to come home."

"And bring back all the weapons I took, is that it?" Balthazar asked indignantly. "I'm not proud, Samandriel, but I won't be a mindless weapon again."

That was it. Something in Samandriel snapped. "You selfish child," he said, giving Balthazar a withering look of contempt. "You don't care about your family at all anymore, do you? Your duty to our Father? We thought you were dead, Balthazar, we wept over you. And now you're hunting us, like some kind of monster. We're running from him, from both of you, hiding like animals while you're down here, laughing at us! Living... who knows what kind of life."

Ooh. That line. They both knew what it meant.

"And you're not even sorry," Samandriel went on through gritted teeth. "You think you're so much wiser now, so worldly. That you're making your own choices. You think you know his intentions, but he is The Beast. Believe me when I say, you have no idea what he's truly after."

"Oh, Smandy," Balthazar said, laughing cruelly. "How did you live so long being such a dumbass?"

Balthazar's eyes began to glow again, and he put his hands on the sides of Samandriel's head. Samandriel's eye's glowed, too.

"What's happening?" Samandriel asked in a small voice. "Stop it... Please, stop."

"Oh, relax," Balthazar drawled, "I'm just reading your mind. You're going to tell me where the angels are."

Samandriel's lips began to move. Balthazar focused, taking his time, looking determined to do whatever he was doing. But then his expression changed. He was aghast.

"You can't be serious," Balthazar said. He let Samandriel go and they went back to normal. "Oh, you bloody hypocrite."

Balthazar's angel blade slid down his sleeve. With rage in his eyes, he plunged the sword into Samandriel, who lit up. Grace shone from his every angel-crevice before guttering out like a light from a burnt out candle.

Balthazar stood and straightened himself up. With a wave of his hand, he opened the glass wall and went out to the hallway.

Crowley was leaning against the wall beside the elevators. "Give up yet?" he asked. He noticed Balthazar's sword had blood on it. "You didn't..."

"The angels are in Adam-ondi-Ahman," Balthazar said.

"Adam-ondi-Ahman?" Crowley asked. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It's Cravensville," Balthazar said. "It's in Missouri."

Crowley stared at him for a moment, dumbstruck. "...Son of a bitch!"