HEATHCLIFF STUDIOS - AFTER MIDNIGHT

For the first time in years, it had begun to rain over Heathcliff Studios. On the roof of the high-rise, just outside the penthouse, was a lovely terrace and a greenhouse conservatory. As if Crowley and Balthazar weren't extra enough, the conservatory was made of gold and blue leaded glass and had a sort of art nouveau look, like a Tiffany lamp. All kinds of flowers and plants; someone took good care of the place.

Crowley liked to write episodes of Inferno in there to avoid distractions, but tonight he brought a distraction with him.

He and Balthazar sat on the wicker sofa inside, sharing a joint-. Is it too late to mention that Balthazar had gotten Crowley lit? Not quite all the way to tripping balls - it takes an unbelievable amount of substances to get high when you're already a cloud of smoke - but he was definitely feeling it now. They had a reel-to-reel tape recorder on the coffee table so they wouldn't have to write down their ideas for the new storyline.

Balthazar had some of Crowley's 'Relax' playlist blaring from his smartphone to get him loosened up. When the baseline of 'Happy Together' began to play, Crowley felt the room...

...Sink...

He sat back, thinking in slow-motion.

"What if we do something with all those souls?" Balthazar asked, trying to steer the session. "A sort of... lateral... power increase?"

Holding in a big breath, Crowley shook his head and gestured with his joint. "Overthinking it," he gasped, sucking in air. "The Archangel," he exhaled, letting a cloud of smoke roll out of his mouth, "a sort of... greater antagonist. Villain with a capital F-U. If your character beats him, he... becomes the King of Heaven." He took a long, slow drag. "Put this on repeat, I bloody love it."

"What I mean is, what if he had one?" Balthazar asked, quickly putting Happy Together on repeat. "He could get a suped-up power, to sort of, well, explain why we forgot to do anything with that thread until now." He chuckled as if to say, hey, this isn't a real thing I did, just a plot convenience.

Crowley snickered at that, holding out the joint to Balthazar who held up a hand. Crowley shrugged. "Are you saying he kept it a secret all this time? Never mind that it's a secret he'd have to keep from Crowley." He said it as if the very idea was absurd. "But can you really see that angel keeping a secret from anyone for more than a week?"

"Excuse me?" Balthazar snapped, more than a little offended.

And then he saw the look on Crowley's face. Like someone spammed the 'smirk' button.

"Now who's Frodo?"

Balthazar just glared at him. On the one hand, he really wasn't doing a great job of keeping the secret considering he nearly just blew his cover again. On the other hand, Crowley had to be high to think calling him Frodo was a sick burn.

"Harry Potter," Balthazar said. "The one who over-identified with his character was Daniel Radcliff. But what would Crowley do if he did?"

Crowley thought about it. "Depends on what the power was."

"Mind reading," Balthazar said. "What would Crowley do if Balthazar had been reading everyone's minds behind his back,... including his?"

Crowley laughed under his breath. "You mean after he killed him? I dunno. I suppose he'd feel... ways about stuff." He went on giggling.

"Well, how would you tell him?"

Crowley frowned. "You just over-pronouned me."

"If you were Balthazar," Balthazar asked, "how would you tell Crowley? To keep him from killing you."

"If I was Balthazar?" Crowley asked smugly. "I couldn't do it."

Balthazar flinched. That condescending attitude was getting to him. If he got out of this with his skin attached, he'd have to serve up a little recreational payback.

Crowley's brows rose. "But," he went on, "if I were me as Balthazar, I'd point to the contract."

"Pretending that was a sentence," Balthazar said, "what about it?"

"The prenup clause of the contract - I know you've read it, you helped me write it. If either of us tries to betray the other, then the offending party forfeits their souls to the injured party, effective immediately."

Balthazar wasn't getting it. "So... you'd give him your souls?" he asked.

Crowley rolled his eyes, head lolling to the music. Smiling because he couldn't stop smiling. "No, Taz. The contract. If Balthazar didn't lose his souls to Crowley, then the contract was never broken. Ergo...? My tone implies you finish the sentence...?"

"I didn't betray you," Balthazar said, a bit stunned. "You clever bastard. But isn't that just-."

Crowley cut him off. "That's the beauty of it. 'Technically'. It's technically not betrayal. There's nothing Crowley can argue. He signed the contract, he outlined what counts as betrayal and what doesn't. So he can either eat it or he can try to avenge himself and break the contract. He'd lose everything."

"Oh." Balthazar slumped back. "That feels cruel somehow."

"Yep." Crowley held out the joint for Balthazar. He shook his head and Crowley took another drag. Got up, feeling the music, bobbing his head to the rhythm.

"But what if Balthazar wants to make it up to Crowley?"

Crowley ignored him. The question didn't make sense and he was really grooving on the Turtles.

"What if Balthazar never meant to hurt Crowley's feelings?" Balthazar pushed on.

Crowley giggled out a plume. He was... just a little bit? Dancing. "If you're trying to keep your character sympathetic," he said, "just don't have him do the mind suck thing. It would be a more interesting turn for him, though. People don't expect the angel to be the heel."

Now Balthazar looked really blue. Not that he'd ever thought of himself as a hero, but a heel? That was sobering.

"What if he had good reasons for reading Crowley's mind? ...What if he just wanted to help him?"

"Help him what, have an aneurism? Come on."

"No, just... when he's sad. Hurt. Crowley's so guarded-."

"You're just in the weeds now, Taz." He got into a serious little shimmy thing. "Why would anyone play with fire like that?"

Balthazar sat with his arms folded for a moment. Just then he'd felt very intensely that no one had ever seen Crowley like this. Dancing to some corny old love song, no thought to his image.

Not a care in the world.

For all his crap about helping Crowley and fixing him, he finally realized this was pretty much it. This was what all the sneaking was really for: getting to see parts of Crowley nobody else ever saw. Being that one, that lucky only one, he let get this close. The only one who knew him. Saw him. Truly. It had become so addictive, he was actually risking his life for it.

Balthazar got up and joined Crowley, holding him close.

"He's an idiot," Balthazar said.

"Well, I wasn't gonna say it."