It's a monthly routine. Crowley hates it. I find it fascinating even after 300 years. We sit in the court with his three other advisors and the two demons chosen to give this month's reports and problems. Whoever fucked up the most in management the previous month got the job. It is not sought after so it had to be based on a 'voluntold' basis. And it was not sought after for a very good reason. The demons who gave the report often died.

If you were boring. If you took too long. If there were things on the list that didn't need to be. If Crowley was in a bad mood.

You died.

Ranni stands to Crowley's right with a clipboard. She is trying to keep a straight face but the two demons who are giving the report this month are two she particularly despises. So if they die, or even better, get eaten, she would be ecstatic. Crowley...is bored.

He had managed to organize things, after a couple hundred years, so that there were fewer things on his agenda. He had implemented a judge to deal with problems between demons, a D&D player who only ever played a lawful neutral character. Who got his jollies dishing out punishment to people who were too stupid, cowardly, and petty to resolve things themselves. He knew how to deal with that, he was a high school teacher after all. Problems only went to Crowley if judge Judy from Hell couldn't figure it out, and that meant they were interesting.

He still had 76 things to deal with today though. If any had to do with demons stealing babies, or souls, or food he was going to kill someone. Painfully and slowly, in front of the whole court.

That is why half the court showed up.

The demons who are giving the report stand in front of the throne. Tamandro swallows and holds up a list.

"Item number 47. The couples' contracts have run into a problem. Some of the humans who signed want a divorce on earth and are wondering if they can get the contract separated or annulled." Crowley sighs.

"No. Whoever brings me more souls while alive gets control of the other contractee's soul when they get to Hell. If there's a tie, they go to the library. Ranni, write up an addendum for the contract for couples and have it on my desk tomorrow to add to all future couples contracts and for any who want it now. Next."

These problems are too Easy. For both of us. I would have added a clause that voids the whole contract if one killed the other, or perhaps made that one a demon first, or-

"Already done. Now. Next?" The crowd shifts. There still wasn't quite a certainty on what he was talking to, or if he was. He had kept me and Bobby, not a secret, but a mystery. Confusing. Scary. Enough for demons to not snoop lest it be them next. Still.

The demon holding the list coughs.

"Item 48. The lending library is running a bit low and-"

"Why?" There is a shifting in the room at the ire in Crowley's voice.

"Sir?"

"Why? It's not that hard of a question. Answer it or, I'll find someone who can."

"I…uh." Crowley snaps and the demon vanishes into black smoke. The scroll drops to the ground with a clatter almost covering the second snap. It echoes and the smoke vanishes in a cloud of red that bursts from Crowley and pulls it back into the King of Hell. The demon settles beside me for half a second before Crowley 'kills' it and it bursts into black specks which fill the red smoke next to the white and pink. It looks like a volcanic storm collecting and raining ash.

I still don't understand how it works. The smoke permeates every molecule, but still somehow sits in an endless world of air and sunsets where I wait and feel things through the red prison. In two existences at once I feel like an electron, unable to see where I am because I know where I'm going. I'm going wherever Crowley wants.

He sighs, head leaning in one hand and gestures to the scroll.

"Pick it up Samark, and either have an answer or point to someone who does."

Ranni is trying to conceal a grin and failing. Crowley is torn between amusement, disgust, and disappointment. A demon shouldn't show their true opinions so openly, especially when they can be used. A cool and collected demeanor meant breaking that act had more impact. However it was gratifying to see he was appreciated and worshipped. She knew both these things, she would find balance or find herself demoted.

Samark picks up the paper, and puts it in his pocket, preferring a phone instead. He swipes quickly and swallows.

"Sir. Uh, your kingship, it seems souls are being taken out for longer periods of time by-"

"Why is there not a time limit in place? It's a library; you check out a book, check it back in in time, or there is a fine."

"Uh, there is, but there is no fine that has worked so…" Crowley takes a deep breath.

"You really couldn't figure out...the fine is they get added to the fucking library!" The room flinches. There were a lot of problems with that. Crowley sighs again. "After they are turned human. Do I have to spell everything out! Ranni, get the architectural team working on remodeling the old church in Alberta. Call Father Brian, tell him I'm willing to renegotiate his contract if he does the cleansing rituals. One time offer."

"Yes sir." Ranni writes down something and Crowley exhales. You know, I thought you got smarter demons Crowley.

"Yes we'll, not everyone has an IQ score above 100 darling. Now. Next?" Samark swallows but looks at his phone.

"Cafeteria has run out of babies again and-"

"I told them to figure it out themselves. I made heads of staff for a reason."

"Uh, it's because one demon is hoarding them."

"And you haven't banded together and killed him because…"

"We can't find him sir." Wow. That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

"And you haven't asked Rowena to help because?"

"We can't find her e-" What… oh shit. Crowley don't-

"What?! This wasn't number one on the list! That my Mother is missing!"

"I didn't make the list sir it-"

"Find who ever did and put them in chains! And get her shadow detail here now!"

"They are dead sir. I-" Oh my god. Idiots.

"Morons! There are things that wait for a meeting! This is not one of them!" Fuck I hope Rowena is ok. Do you think fatass demon has her? Crowley takes a breath and sits back down. He had been through this before.

"When did she go missing?"

"Three days ago. Same time as the most recent raid of the cafeteria." Well at least Samark was smart enough to give that info without asking.

"Do you know the thieving demon's name?"

"Uhm. No."

Well shit.

"Everyone. Out. Now!" The demons quickly shuffle out. I had always wondered why they never just poofed in and out, until I looked closely at the stone work. Hundreds of very small symbols. Only the demon wearing the crown could teleport in and out of the court rooms, unless the king said it was ok. It was some very old and complex spell work. Crowley sighs and then whistles. There is a commotion outside as a few demons are growled at and one is obviously knocked over.

Soon though the Hellhound stands in front of her master.

"Good girl. Find Rowena." Growley whines. "What do you mean you can't? It's your bloody job! Finding souls meant for Hell!" The dog whines again. "She...doesn't have a smell? Bloody Hell mother."

Well at least we know she's probably safe. Or has a plan. Only a witch could do something like that-

"No. There is warding. Very old, forbidden, locked in my private collection where no one can see it, warding." Why? How has it not gotten out? "It was a closely kept secret of the Princes. So they could have stashes of damned souls for emergencies and remain hidden. Only one other person knew of it." I can't help notice that is in the past tense. "Lionel." Ah. So who was the demon you sent to guard your stash of stuff when you were moving it? Crowley frowns. "That doesn't matter. What matters is how long the demon who ratted me out to the British Men of Letters knew about the location and who else he told."

I think the guard is still important too.

"Fine. I'll kill two birds with one stone."

And we're gone.

Nevada. Crowley stands at the entrance and looks at the ground. His hunters' bunker. He takes out his phone and dials.

"Sara. Uncle Crowley. How was your last hunt with the peryton? Have fun? Oh, you got the antlers. Well done. Is your mother there? Of course I'll wait darling." It will never cease to amaze me how quickly he changes faces. Or the fact that he likes kids. "For breakfast, lunch and dinner-" and as kids. The fact that you give them high fives and hugs doesn't mean-

"Donna. How are you?" Our discussion is cut short by the digital arrival of Sara's mother. Woman of Letters and current head of the bunker. "How goes- Right to the point as always. Yes, I have a job. I have a demon that is giving me trouble. Care to show Sara how to deal with one? With the added insurance of her uncle standing nearby? How about you let me in and I'll give you all the juicy deets. I'm already here, just being polite and-" We are standing in the center of the entryway. "-calling ahead. Well, yes also avoiding bullet holes in my suit, but still. Hello darlings." It still unnerves me how every so often he'll let my manner of speech through, even after hundreds of years, just to throw me off guard.

"Uncle Crowley!"

"Bill. Sara." A small red haired boy runs up and collides with Crowley's knee. Crowley wanted a rapport with hunters, a multigenerational contract. Well he got it; he was known throughout America as a king who kept his word. He'd be 'fair' for a demon if you didn't fuck with him. Unfortunately most hunters couldn't not fuck with him, so there is still only one multigenerational contract. Less hunters trying to trap him though. A few times he had even been summoned without a devil's trap. It had been a surreal experience. Then asking about a monster, or telling him about a rogue demon or two and asking for help. A few had even asked about the bunker hunters' contract.

I had finally figured out how he was doing contracts without taking souls and still getting the magic to work. Because he was taking a soul. Each and every one. For ten minutes. Each time the contract was re-evaluated or added on to, every soul's echo, ten minutes. Written in the contract somewhere was a rental clause, temporary loan. Samantha, the very first one to sign, had gone over the contract with a fine tooth comb before she agreed to the binding aspect that allowed anyone who lived in the bunker to add their name. Now, hundreds of years later...

Crowley pats the child on the head and pushes him away.

"Hello Bill. High five?" Bill complies and Crowley nods. "You're getting stronger. You're what, two?" Crowley, you know he's four.

"I'm four!"

"Oh, that means I missed a birthday, right?"

"A bajillion birthdays!"

"That's a bit more than one or two." Crowley snaps. "There's a present in your room. Go!" Ah, there's the reason for the 'mistake'. Bill grins and scampers away. Crowley sighs and stands up. The main room hadn't changed much, not in the strictest sense. A lot of technology had been updated, what they could update without any fear of breaking some spell. Every light now glowed with green or blue, new neon LEDs now common, and with their dual black light ability quite good at lighting up invisible traps and sigils. Like I said, not much had changed… outwardly. Crowley turns his gaze to Sara.

"Now that the liability is out of the way, where is your mother?" Sara nods and waves for Crowley to follow.. She's a bit older than the last time we saw her, at the Thanksgiving which Crowley begrudgingly attended. Her hair is cut short, with blond tips frost black. A few piercings cover her face and her dark black lipstick stands stark against a white tee.

"Follow me. She's in the dungeon with her fossil laptop." Three years old. Three years does not a fossil make. My laptop at one point was over 7 years old, I held onto that thing like-

"How's your pet project? Any closer to figuring out why the British Men of Letters didn't just summon me here?" Yeah just cut off my thoughts, sure. Fine.

"No. But there's gotta be a reason."

"I heard you finally hacked into their old files a month ago. Find anything juicy?"

"You mean on you? Redacted. Redacted. Redacted. So much black text."

"I notice you didn't answer my question darling."

"Nothing I didn't already know about. You're a demon. It's like finding out your parents aren't perfect. Uncle Crowe's not actually nice."

"Of course I'm nice. I'm being nice right now. No one's dead. I'd call that very nice for a demon."

"Yeah, but you have an ulterior motive."

"So does everyone. Little Billy wanted a toy."

"That's because you bring him toys whenever you come."

"Yes, so he doesn't get in the way and see things he really shouldn't. Ulterior motives all around. For instance, I have a gift for you."

"Really?"

"Really. LhP5$0O!Z# the name Jakobs and 8Oo0olLIii$" I laugh. Oh. That was a blast from the past. Of course you wouldn't want a demon going through their information.

Sara stops. The tiled hall's murmurs and sounds are suddenly more audible without the echoes of footsteps. They fill the space as she turns around. She looks at Crowley confused and a bit annoyed.

"The fuck is that?"

"What do they sound like darling?"

"Random numbers and names. Some gift."

"Passwords darling. Go get rid of some black lines." Sara blinks, eyes wide.

"How, how do you- ...what!?"

"I killed the last one in the states darling. Now, ulterior motives. Bring me the info on my old bunker and how they found out about it. What was in it. Bring your computer to….the dungeon." Crowley watches as Sara rushes past him before he finishes talking. "You're welcome."

Kids. Never grateful for anything.

"She'll show her gratitude by finding me what I want." He continues down the hallway, hands in pockets, listening to the ambient sounds that get louder and softer. Conversations, giggles of a young boy, cursing at some device. The sounds of life, potential. We both far preferred this to the sounds of Hell. Most everything down there sounded like a dead end.

The dungeon gets closer and the sound of cursing and muttering becomes louder. Inside an older lady, graying hair, flannel shirt, glasses, leans over an outdated laptop.

"Fucking talk to me you piece of-"

"Ahem." Donna looks up at Crowley as he stands in the doorway. "Hello."

"Crowley."

"Why so cold? You used to love me, at what point do all of you just stop-"

"When we find out what you do. Like the fact that you ate a kid last week." Wait what? No he didn't… I think.

"Was it one of yours? No. Also, goat kid. So if it was one of yours, I suggest you get checked for numerous problems, including venereal diseases."

Donna stares.

"Really? And why should I believe you? About it being a goat."

"Don't. Don't believe anything, but especially don't believe rumors. Verify. Now. I have a problem. A demon may have leaked some information that I need unleaked, especially since whoever took my Mother is using it to hide her." Donna blinks.

"Someone took Rowena?"

"She's missing. So either she was taken or she 'took' herself. I don't care for either of those so I want to find her before whatever scheme is in the works can't be stopped."

"Scheme?"

"There is always a scheme. Now. We need to summon a demon, so I can find another demon and my mother. You can kill them both-"

"Aren't they your employees?" Says Sara as she walks in with a laptop that looks far sleeker and more advanced than anything I had when I was alive. Quantum computing in a secondary motherboard. Jeez.

"Yes they work for me, but not all of them are good employees. Now, did you find anything?"

"Demon's name was Archibald. Couldn't get in himself, went to the British looking to split what was inside. They got the info and killed him."

Crowley frowns. That's what Jakobs had said, but he had doubted that. Apparently torture under duress works occasionally. That meant this other demon was his only chance. Ok. The recent guard, let's go.

"Alright then. Let's summon Dante."

"What, like The Dante?" Crowley frowns disappointedly at Sara.

"No. Here's the symbol."

"And you can't do this because?"

"Human blood. Also, if he's in a warded area, my skills don't bypass that, this should."

"So even the King of Hell has limits."

"Everything has limits, it's our purpose to break them. So, let's push his a little shall we? Summon him."

"Why?" Crowley looks at Sara.

"What do you mean why? Because I told you to. This is a job. It's in the contract. I ask you to do a job, you do a job. I ask you to eat dogs until you puke, you can ignore me, as long as it's not integral to A JOB! Donna, the ingredients are here, the circle is here, your blood, I hope, is here. So…. Summon. Him."

"Fine. But why is Sara here?"

"She's a growing lady, I figured she should learn how to torture a demon."

"You're gonna teach us how to torture a demon? The guys who work for you?" Sara says confusedly.

"If they get caught by a hunter they aren't very good demons are they? They deserve it. They know that. I've told them." Yeah the only way they survive coming back after giving up info is if they come back to Crowley with the hunter's head. And if they come back with one of These hunters heads...well it hasn't happened yet. "Besides, Donna will be teaching, I'll be watching. Unless you want-"

"No. Step back Crowley unless you want me to show her how to torture a demon using you." Oh. Oh bad play Donna. Now that he could walk out of traps…

"I'll gladly make this a date night as long as I can change into something, or someone, more comfortable first. However, enough with the flirting. You have a job to do. Do it."

The summoning spell is done and we watch as an older African man appears in the trap. His hair is beautiful dark pepper gray, his skin is wrinkled and freckled with age spots. His eyes are black.

"Dante. Pleasure."

"My king." The demon looks around nervously at his surroundings, and the hunters.

"You're going to answer some questions for me, or I'm gonna let my friends here have some fun."

"Yes my king."

"Very good. While you were guarding my collection all those years ago, did you happen to I don't know...Go in and have a look see?"

"Yes sir. I made a mental catalogue of the items and checked regularly to make sure nothing had been taken." Well. That wasn't the answer I was expecting. Crowley? How about you?

He ignores me.

"Very good. And did anything go missing?"

"No sir."

"Like say, a little book with some strange symbols?"

"No sir."

Crowley, you know the book is there. You did inventory a decade ago and no one knows the new location. He ignores me again.

"Did you perhaps...memorize the book?"

Silence. A brief pause but still. There we go.

"No sir." Crowley looks at Sara.

"Give this man a drink, he looks thirsty."

Sara opens the jar of holy water on the table nearby and splashes the demon. He screams in pain. Crowley watches Sara as she throws the water.

"I'm gonna take a walk. Call me if he talks."

"And if he doesn't?" Asks Sara.

"I'll be back. Have fun kids."

He walks out of the room quickly but casually, not leaving time for discussion. I have a lot on my mind. What does he think is goin on? Why is one demon hoarding uh…

"Food? I suppose he must be hungry." Yeah but what would that have to do with Rowena? Unless he thought he could use her as leverage to get you to do something… that'd be stupid. He can't destroy her as a soul so there isn't much that can be threatened. She is used to torture. And you could care less if she isn't.

"True. I'm going to go with stupid demon." I don't know, I have a feeling.

"No, I have your feeling, and I don't agree. So-"

"Uncle Crowley!" Coming around the corner is a tall young man with glasses and sandy red hair. He is skinny with freckles and a baseball cap to complete a very 'college senior' look.

"Ed." Ed, one of George's descendants, holds out his hand for a high five. Crowley chuckles and shakes his head a bit.

"C'mon, you only give them out to anyone below the age of 10?"

"Yes."

"C'mon." Crowley sighs but aquieces. I think he just puts on a show of not liking it honestly. He liked human interaction, as long as it isn't unwarranted affection and the human isn't stupid.

Ed is not stupid. Ed is the Bunker's current spell guy. He is someone Croney would like, he is trying to make new spells.

It isn't obvious at first glance but Ed's entire neck has scars and burns from an attempt at spell making gone horribly wrong. He also has an ear made of copper. A working ear that he hides behind his red sandy hair and a cap that tilts to that side.

"So, what brings you here?"

"Business as usual. Death, killing, murder."

"Any of those synonyms include a job for me?"

"Fraid not. Unless you've invented a spell that can locate someone without traces or knowing who they are? Or one that can locate a soul, not a ghost, a soul. Probably inside warding. Got any of those handy?" Crowley asks, not expecting an answer.

"No. But that's an interesting puzzle to work on. I'll get on it."

"Sure, just 'get on' figuring out something that warlocks have been attempting for centuries."

"Well, I managed to turn an almond into a peanut last week." Crowley blinks.

"What, why?"

"Not allergic to peanuts. Gonna try something like...a banana next." Crowley stares, intrigued and a bit concerned. How...How hard is it to change something soulless into something else?

"It's impossible."

"Yeah, well, I never liked that word." Crowley looks at the young man. He had just turned 21, he hadn't signed the contract yet. Yet. Crowley...what are you thinking?

"Can I interest you in a-"

"Nope." Crowley exhales and pauses for a second.

"You don't even know what-"

"Contract, that's what you were going to say." He's got you Crowley. He's smarter than me, he's not just gonna sign. Crowley doesn't miss a beat. Hands in pockets he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking up at the young man as tall as Moose. Giving off an air of casual business. This was not casual.

"No. Internship. With one, perhaps two, very powerful witches and a warlock." Ed pauses.

"What's the catch?"

"You work for me."

"No." Dude, he is shutting you down, just have him sign the regular contract. Ease him into it with easier jobs. I can feel the begrudging agreement, but...

"Well, how about you sign the contract your family normally does, for starters. Then agree to sign another one, which we will both go over and agree to, if you wish to continue after the first lesson with each of your tutors." Ed's eyes narrow again and then he smiles. He's amiable, but quick.

"What's the real catch then? Why would I even entertain signing a different contract?"

"Well, one is in Hell for a reason. As one of the first witches she did rather atrocious things. The warlock, well, he may take a bit of convincing."

Crowley. Three years ago. You ate the warlock. All of him. You made me watch. With the fucking clotted cream while you-

"Forget the warlock. He's indisposed." Disposed, try disposed of. "The other, mummy dearest, is missing. I'm trying to find her. Working diligently you might say." Ed's eyes widen.

"Did...did you say first...and Rowena?"

Oh. Hook line and sinker. Be gentle Crowley.

"I don't do gentle Chew Toy. Now, think on it Ed. You have my number." Crowley pats Ed on the shoulder as he walks past the stunned young man. I shake my head. Seriously Crowley. How could you Forget Anton? Why did you even kill him?

"He didn't like part of the new deal. Said, and I quote 'eat me.' So I did." No, he said you could take the new deal and eat it. "Well, he was holding it at the time, I missed." If I had eyes, I would roll them. Why did you change the deal though? It was fine! ... Wasn't it?

"No. It wasn't. He was supposed to alert me of anything interesting in France. I'd call the possibility of a psychic vampire interesting." Wait. Psychic vampire? Like energy draining? Crowley sighs in annoyance.

"If you're thinking of those humans who just make people tired, no. It's a type of witch or warlock. This is the only magic they know, and they know it innately starting at thirtyish. Skips every three generations. The witches give gifts, favors, money; and when they do that they create a bond through the sense of obligation to return the favor. That bond only grows stronger with time until they have adoring masses. What they can do with those bonds, is dangerous." Wait...what?

Crowley takes a deep breath. Whatever these witches were, they're apparently powerful enough to concern him. Either for the safety of the world or himself.

"Imagine if Hell could collect souls and grow in power, but the souls just...stayed on earth. Ready to be turned into demons or power at a thought." Ok. Yeah. That sounds terrifying. And you didn't tell me about this because…

"I sent the hunters. Paid for their flights. Full vacation in France. Baguettes and cigarettes all around after they killed the politician. Either way, Anton failed to mention it. I had to find out when a contract with one of their bonded souls failed to activate after ten years. That's another problem. While bonded, those humans shrug off every other supernatural thing like water." Didn't shrug off bullets I assume.

"No. They did not. Nor did the Warlock." Yeah but did Anton know about them, or didn't tell you?

"I didn't ask. His mouth was a bit busy at the time anyway. As was mine." Yeah, for a week. Busy screaming and sucking o- "Well, he always did want me to suck on a bone of his." I don't think he meant the tibia Crowley. "Then he should have been more specific."

He cuts off the conversation as we turn back into the dungeon. We are met with a silent demon and a fair bit of blood. Sara and Donna stand, glaring at him. Crowley walks in and looks between all three of them.

"Trouble in the dungeon?"

"He won't talk." Crowley sighs and steps forward.

"Let's see how he deals with a professional."

"We are professionals."

"You're amateurs. Now. Dante. You know what I do to people who betray me."

"Yes sir."

"And yet here we are."

"I fear nothing."

"Really? How about a tarrasque?"

"A...what?" Crowley touches the temple of the demon tied to the chair and puts all of my memories of that beast's stomach. Of slowly losing yourself over eons. Dante shakes his head free of the images and frowns.

"No."

"Well. You must be afraid of something or you would be telling me what I want to know. Either that or you're stupid enough to think you may get out of this to get your reward from them."

"No sir."

Shit. This was a problem. A demon who doesn't fear dying or nonexistence and doesn't want anything. That...doesn't feel possible... Is he damaged? Under a spell? Wait, we don't know what he wants yet, do we?

"Just realized that now Chew Toy? Be quiet, you seem a bit slow today. So Dante, what do you want?"

The demon is silent. So he does want something...or fears something.

Greed. Pride. What is his sin? He seemed prideful of his work, I meant he went the extra mile to make sure none of your shit was stolen...even if he snooped a bit. So maybe being forgotten...no. Having his work undone? Being overshadowed? Maybe it had something to to with the food, or-

"Shut up Chew Toy, it has nothing to do with the food." There is a twitch from the demon. You might be wrong Crowley. You sure you wanna bring that up here though, in front of two allies? They might not like the cafeteria's meal plan. Crowley stops his pacing and looks at the demon.

"Or perhaps he is just unnerved at the one sided conversation. Let's try this again. You aren't afraid of me. You should be. I will take everything you are and destroy it. Your past. Your present. Your future. Your work. Your friends. Your family. All traces of you and anything you've even thought of, gone. And I'll make you watch. I'll make you feel it. You will be wide awake as I slowly pick apart everything atom by atom. Then I'll sit you in a pretty little jar to watch as the world moves on without you." Dante takes a deep breath but stays quiet. Sara snorts.

"I haven't started yet darling. This is foreplay. Prep work. Tenderizing. Demons can be a bit different. Some like the pain. Some like the verbal torture. I haven't found out what he doesn't like yet, give me time. So… we just have to find what makes this one tick, or fall back on my plan B."

"And that is?" Asks Sara rolling her eyes.

"You leave and I-"

"Nuhuh. We ain't leaving you alone."

"Then you get to see what a messy eater I am. You really want to watch that? I didn't bring napkins." As he talks he keeps a half glance on Dante. He doesn't flinch, he stares straight ahead as best he can with a quickly swelling right eye. "It just takes so long. I'd prefer to just get answers now."

"Eating...takes a while? What are you, a snake?" Huh...that could be an apt comparison.

"No, well… it's about meal prep. Now-"

"You're on a deadline. I have a bargaining chip. That's why I'm not scared, sir." Crowley pauses and turns slowly. A smart demon. He had wanted smart demons. This is what that got you.

"Shut up Chew Toy." He turns and walks to the front of the problematic demon. He stands, hands in pockets,swallowing and settling his jaw, distracting himself from the rage for a moment. He takes a breath, and begins the game. "You know what information I want. You want something in return. You know that, unlike Lucifer, I keep my deals. So...talk to me."

"Two things, you don't kill, destroy, eat, or imprison me, sir."

"That's a lot of things." The demon sneers.

"It's under one category. I also want to know how you got your powers. Your current powers."

God. He's so smart and so dumb. Wording wording wording.

"Done. I'll take you on my next trip to one of the numerous sources of my greatness. Now. The book? Who did you tell about it, its contents, why, and Where Are They?" The floor cracks a bit with his anger, the devil's trap fracturing. Crowley sighs and snaps, fixing it with a clenched jaw. He looks with a lowered gaze at the object of his contempt and anger, and waits with raised brows.

"Rowena. I gave her the info on the symbol. Three weeks ago. She said it was for something for you. You'd had a good rapport for I dunno, a good hundred years, so-"

"Always check. So. Who is she working with? Where are they?"

"Don't know and don't know. Now let me out."

"No." The demon's eyes widen at this supposed betrayal of his promise. Crowley shakes his head. "I'm not imprisoning you. They are. And I still have questions." Idiot. Even I saw that loophole. I see three others. Idiot. Like me. Just smart enough to get in trouble. "Even my Chew Toy thinks you're stupid. But she had an IQ score of 150 and I doubt you break 105." Crowley. It's not 150. Don't oversell me. I'll just come up short and that's embarrassing for both of us. "Either way, high pedigree. You. Not so much." He starts circling again as I sigh at Crowley's mention of me. High pedigree, right. Like he actually thought that of me. I am ignored as he circles.

"Wallace Gundering. Born in Wisconsin to an insignificant family in an insignificant town. You led an insignificant life. You played insignificant video games until you joined the army to fight in an insignificant war. Sold your soul to survive an insignificant neck wound. Met an insignificant woman. Had some insignificant kids. Only thing that was interesting about you to the world above was your mysterious death. By Hellhound. Now you and your insignificant self want to finally be... not insignificant. I can help. It'll go faster if you help me. So, if you have even an insignificant idea about where they are...tell me." Dante stares, and swallows, suddenly less confident.

"Uhm. It might have been Jarrod with her sir. Don't know where they went." Crowley turns before Dante has even finished and walks away, getting out his phone. The dossier on Jarrod is up in moments.

"One hundred thirty years old. Sold his soul for never leaving a trace at a crime scene. Vice was stealing. Notorious theft of expensive foods. Recruited for food acquisitions. Went missing from active roster...two weeks ago. Part of the thieves guild-" wait there's an actual thieves guild? "With the demons I recruited, of course. So, I know all their safe houses, but perhaps not their personal ones." He's been dialing for a moment now, a very very long number that can't be one that works. But he presses dial and it rings.

"Smoke. How are you? No, you're right, I don't really care. What will it cost to find out one of the guild members personal hideouts? Oh, I know it's not for sale, that only means it's not cheap. What will it cost? … … …. Fine. I'll send you one fourth of my collection. No. One. Fourth... Smoke. Out of respect for your abilities and the amount of time it would take to track you down, I'm being nice. I don't have to be. So... One... Fourth. ….Good. Jarrod. Where?" There is mumbling, and I can make out some coordinates. The voice is rough and scratchy. It speaks quickly, then grunts a confirmation and hangs up. Crowley sighs and slips his phone in his pocket. Well, where are they?

"The border of Hell. For Demons." Hell, for demons? "The Vatican." Fuck no. Why? That sounds like the most annoying and dangerous place to be. "Exactly." I can't believe it. It just doesn't seem right. And why is Rowena helping this...baby stealer? Lunch thief?

"Let's find out. But first…" Oh god Crowley you don't have time. He smiles and turns back to the dungeon. "I have a few minutes, enough for a quickie." He looks at Sara and Donna, who are returning the gesture with great annoyance and confusion.

"Get what you want?"

"Almost Donna. I can actually go find mommy dearest now, but I can't take this one with me."

"You want us to babysit? No."

"Who said anything about sitting? No, Sara, you stand while you make art, and I'm about to hand you a very pretty paintbrush. Which, I will show you how to use." He snaps and a scalpel appears in his hand.

"Yeah, we got one of those."

"Not like this. You see…" he walks up to Dante and holds the scalpel under his nose. The demon inhales and tenses, swallows and looks the King of Hell in the eye. "There is a type of pain that most demons can't get pleasure from. Withstand, sure. Ignore. No."

"We had a deal." Says Dante.

"That said nothing about torture. Or having someone else kill you. You really thought you could out maneuver me? Me!" The scalpel is driven into the tender flesh of the right eye and the demon screams. Crowley has been quite nicely hiding his anger at the incompetence he'd witnessed today. He was going to finally let go for a bit. Just a bit.

"You crossed me! So, I'm going to play with you for a bit. They're going to tenderize you further. And then I'll take you to my favorite restaurant, as promised." The demon's eyes go wide. I sigh and tense, readying myself for the blood. The further feeling of flesh and bone against metal.

"But you said-"

"Ah ah. Food doesn't talk back." The mouth is held open and the scalpel is deftly used. Dante struggles but his jaw doesn't move an inch in Crowley's grasp. The flesh feels bumpy and rough as he wiggles and retracts, trying to make it difficult. It doesn't matter. Soon enough there is a splat and the tip of a tongue lands on the table nearby, the demon's mouth now too full of blood to speak.

"Unlike a lot of women I know, and now you, I swallow. I have a friend who can do the chewing for me if my jaw is tired from dealing with Stupid Demons not worth the Dicks they're attatched to!" Each word is punctuated by a slice of flesh. I can almost pretend it's just clay. Just wet clay and a clay knife. Just sculpting. If it wasn't for all the red and the screaming I could almost believe it is just clay... Crowley sighs and turns. Looking at the two women behind him. Donna is unmoved. Sara's face is blank in an attempt to tell herself she isn't horrified. The scalpel is set down with a small clink.

"Melted down Angel Blade. I'll be back for it, and him, in a day or so. In the meantime, practice cutting off small body parts. Try parts of an organ or two as long as you sew him back up. That's how you torture a demon. Very different from living things. You were far too light with your paint brush Sara. Time to grow up and get messy." Crowley snaps and his hands are clean, and he is gone.

Rude way to leave them, Crowley.

"Don't particularly care. I made my point." I roll my eyes, enjoying the view and trying to push the feel of flesh under a knife from my mind. "You enjoy it." If it was with a sword and a fair fight, maybe. Maybe if it was a nice dead steak. Like that, no.

Crowley of course maneuvers me into place to protect him the moment we land. We are in one of the most holy places on earth after all. The towers and whiteness and fresh air of the Vatican are beautiful. I wonder if Crowley had ever been inside before. If they had traps. Either way, it isn't why we are here. We are going to the coordinates sent to us.

They lead to a bridge, specifically one underneath a park. There is a small door, probably not even visible to humans, that is easily broken open with a snap. He steps inside without fear and looks around

The inside is dark, the light switch doesn't work. It doesn't bother Crowley of course. What does bother him is that the place seems to be empty. He takes a deep breath and hits redial on his phone.

"Smoke. He's not here. ...what do you mean what day is it up here?...He changes his base every Tuesday? ...And this Wasn't important to tell me because!? Well, do you know his other bases? … Text it to me. Now. ...Smoke. You even begin to ask for more compensation and I will send every Hellhound I have to eat you slowly, while I watch, and then put the smoke they shit out into a lava lamp! Text it to me!" He hangs up, rigid with anger. All I can think about is Crowley in the 60's. What the Hell did he wear?

"Suits don't go out of style, Chew Toy." He looks at his phone as it buzzes. A list of fourteen other coordinates appear. Time to get to work.

….

A day later. All the places visited. All empty. Crowley is incensed. I'm a little mad too. This place is gorgeous and I'm getting to see sewers and tunnels and abandoned buildings. Smoke has no more ideas and Crowley has none either, which means…

"Chew toy. Have an idear for me?" First, try summoning him. Then if that doesn't work, get your snack and a professional. "I don't really want my hunters to know that the problem is about a certain delicacy amidst demons." You have another professional Crowley, at the restaurant you mentioned.

He pauses and a slight smirk appears on his face as he steps into the ether. He doesn't bother calling this time. He just appears in the dungeon.

Sara jumps and slits the demon's lip. Crowley looks around her at Dante, to see how 'well' she'd done. He shakes his head. She was being light, far too kind and gentle with her torture. That type of work may work on a layman, an average joe off the street, but not anyone trained or hardened, and definitely nothing that wasn't human.

"He has all of his fingers. Why wouldn't you take the thumbs? Disappointed Sara." She growls.

"And what if I do have to do this to you? Hmm? You really telling me you'd be fine without your thumbs?" Oh Sara. He can grow them back, or snap yours.

"I'll happily return and sit in that chair for a few hours darling. As long as you let me sit in it au natural. The cold metal brings that extra bit of zing to the experience. Also, the suit is expensive." You can fix the suit with a thought now Crowley. Sara sneers.

"You can keep your underwear. I don't need to see your tiny fucking dick saluting me."

"What underwear? Too restricting." Lie. You love silk. "Besides, you couldn't come near the amount of pain I like Sara. Now, in exchange for sitting in that chair, I'd like you to do another summoning for me." Sara blinks, then recoils.

"You're fucking serious?"

"Don't flirt if you aren't willing to follow through. Especially with a demon."

"Yeah, well, chair is ocupado, so no summoning." Crowley looks around Sara at Dante again.

"It's fine. He won't need a chair. Here's the symbol, again." Sara glares, but takes the piece of paper from Crowley. "Darling, this is a mutually beneficial arrangement. What happened to the eagerness you had when I gave you those passwords?"

"I read the redacted files, with images." She is still frowning but is setting up the spell begrudgingly. Crowley, what was in those files?

"Oh? I'm a bit curious myself. What's dampened your love for 'Uncle Crowe?'"

"Of what you did to Jacobs."

"So they did get the selfie." She snarls but cuts her hand and mutters the incantation. The bowl flares up as usual, and then it flares a bright green. Sparks fly and there is a sizzling as the bowl melts and there is a puff of smoke.

No demon appears.

Crowley sighs and snaps. The circle breaks and the ankle cuffs around Dante snap open.

"Time for our lunch date darling." Dante swallows but stands up and walks out. As soon as his feet are over the circle Crowley snaps and it's fixed. He looks at Sara for a moment and then raises his hand. "Keep me updated on anything interesting you find in that archive."

"Wait. Uh...I don't...understand all these references to eating." Crowley pauses. So...Donna hadn't told her daughter yet. Wait, did Donna fully know? He lowers his hand and walks back toward Sara, pointedly walking to the center of the trap, looking around, and picking up the scalpel she had dropped. He wiggles it as he shows her.

"Take better care of my things next time. I take care of you after all."

"I'm not one of your 'things'." She says with a sneer.

"Yet. Now…" He walks out of the trap and points the scalpel at her. " If you ever find yourself with a demon or monster and Without a way to kill them? Call me. We'll do lunch. See you soon for our date." He snaps and both the demon and him are gone.