IV

London

1968

Free love, war, rock music, drugs…

The list went on and on. The more time that passed, the further and further Man fell from God, and the more Crowley loved it. The debauchery that surrounded him on a regular basis felt like a second skin.

As he strolled through the streets, grinning at the idiots flashing Peace signs and catching whiffs of marijuana in the air, he spotted something that peaked his attention.

"Oh!" He chimed with an almost childlike delight.

The neon sign of a new nightclub shined brightly, calling out to him like a –well, like a neon sign. Den of Sin. The name alone brought a sinister smile to his lips. Such adorable little creatures, humans were. They thought they knew sin.

Well, perhaps he would simply have to see for himself?

Crowley's long legs carried him the distance easily, across the street, through the front door, and down the narrow hall to the "belly of the beast".

The moment he passed through the curtain of beads that separated him from the club itself, a chill of excitement trickled down his spine. It was a strong feeling, one that made him shake his shoulders just to alleviate it. It'd been a long while since anything gave him the shivers, but the Den of Sin had managed.

While on the outside it looked rather simple, with its dance floor in the center of the room, a bar to his right, and bean bag chairs littering the space with small tables between them, it was the feeling of the Den that he liked so much. It was, most definitely, rife with sin.

There was overindulgence everywhere he looked. People drank more than they could stand. Dancers ground themselves against one another in hopes that it would proceed to something more. GoGo dancers wearing small bikinis with paint on their perfect bodies danced in cages suspended from the high ceiling. And, he couldn't be certain because it was only a feeling, Crowley thought there was heavy drug use, and likely something rather kinky happening elsewhere.

Another wicked smile curled the corners of his lips. "Lovely," He practically cooed the word.

First things first: Crowley wanted a drink.

He walked past the people in the overstuffed chairs, and beyond the dance floor to the bar where he promptly ordered their finest whiskey. He had no intentions of paying, so why not splurge?

When his drink was brought to him, Crowley turned to better survey the scene, all the while sipping on his delicious spirits. He wanted to smile again, a feeling that hadn't exactly dissipated.

This would be his new place. This would be his home away from home. This-

All thought cleared his mind in one swift, unavoidable flash the second Crowley's eyes landed on the throne. There was no other way to classify it.

A high-backed chair made of intricately carved wood, painted silver and upholstered in black, sat atop a raised platform that brought it just high enough the person sitting there could see the room. And there was someone sitting on it, highlighted by the spotlight overhead.

A young woman was draped across the seat of the throne, her long white legs over one arm and her head back over the other. A young man was knelt at her feet, massaging them obediently while another fed her grapes.

Crowley didn't realize that his feet had carried him closer, that he'd somehow navigated the dance floor until he stood within a few shorts yards of the dais. He only knew that he could now see the young woman in profile… and he knew her.

"Lilith,"

He spoke the word so softly that it should've been inaudible over the music, but she tensed. Without warning, her head snapped up and her eyes, covered by a pair of large, bug-eyed sunglasses, landed on him.

They stared at one another in silence until she bought her legs around without bothering to dismiss the man massaging her feet. Instead, he scurried away while she stood. There was no denying it any longer. Crowley could sense it as easily as see it, the young woman standing in front of him wearing a black Mod dress with a sweet, little white collar, her black hair pulled back into a high, tight pony-tail, and with the thick bangs that fell into her eyes was the same young woman from Eden.

"Fallen," She practically hissed the name. Delicate steps brought her forward. "Come with me." She growled.

He didn't know what possessed him, but once she leapt down from her perch and headed away, Crowley followed.

He stared at the back of her head as she led him somewhere unknown. He couldn't believe it. Of anyone he would have thought he'd meet, Lilith had never been on the list. In fact, he'd thought she'd be dead. Surely, after nearly six-thousand years, she should have died. But no.

Then again, he'd heard stories about her through the millennia. She'd grown rather infamous, and yet, still, he almost refused to believe it was actually her. He was happier to think that it was some other demon using her name and that he hadn't actually cursed her to eternity.

Lilith led him through another door and into an office that was intricate enough, elaborate enough, that it tore his attention from her. It was impressive from size to design. Clearly, she still had a fondness for plants. Although, the snake caught his eye and held it firm.

Grinning to himself, Crowley approached a thin black snake that was in the process of slithering along the length of a felled tree. It glanced at him, meeting the Original Serpent's eye, and paused. He chuckled a little to himself. Snakes recognize their own.

"Your pet?" He asked. "Bit odd, isn't it?"

From somewhere behind, he heard her reply, "I like snakes."

Pride, true and powerful, filled his chest. It was an arrogant pride, far beyond simple flattery. He felt as though he could take credit for that, whether it was true or not.

"Funny you should say that." He said. "I'm a bit of a snake fan my-"

Crowley was presented with an odd sight when he turned to face her once more. The small young woman who was neither young, nor a woman, stood in front of an old wooden desk (dwarfed by it, really) with a rubber glove on her hand, clutching a squirt bottle.

He arched a brow at the strangeness of it.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Holy Water."

Crowley's grin faded and very real fear shot through his soul –if he still had one. Slowly, his brows rose.

"What?" He wasn't entirely certain he'd heard her correctly.

"Holy. Water." She repeated, slower than before. "Tell me why you're here, Fallen, or I'll shoot you, I swear."

Whether it was arrogance or not, Crowley refused to believe her. There was no way she would have Holy Water, not when he'd spent so long trying to acquire it himself. Over a century, in fact. The rubber glove she wore to hold the bottle was simply to help frighten him, but he wouldn't let it.

"You're bluffing."

Lilith raised her free hand and removed her sunglasses. Fiery eyes shined back at him, blazing like the pits of Hell itself. The makeup was a nice touch, a style that looked very similar to the model who was everywhere, Twiggy, but it did nothing to quell the look in her eyes.

"You certain?"

His eyes fell to the bottle. "Right," he mumbled. His previous assertion was fading, but curiosity surged. "How'd ya get it?"

A brief glimpse of confusion crossed her face no matter how she tried to keep it hidden.

"A church," she said as though it should have been obvious. "Now, why are you here? I thought Hell had learned their lesson. How many of you do I have to discorporate or slaughter before they get the point, hm? I'm not interested. I am not a Fallen. I'm a demon."

"Same thing, really," he said a bit arrogantly.

"They're really not," she replied. "You're a Fallen, a former angel. I'm an Earth-bound demon. My children are Earth-bound demons. We're quite different."

He thought about it briefly before shrugging a little. She wasn't wrong. "Then why's Hell so interested in you?"

"Heaven if I know. Probably because I can create more creatures." She didn't sound happy with the prospect, which he could understand. And then, despite the thick bangs that fell into her eyes, Crowley had the suspicion that she furrowed her brows curiously. "Shouldn't you know this?"

"Not really, no," he said casually, making a face as he slid his hands into his pockets. "Not my thing, actually. Haven't been back to Hell in… eons."

Her aim wavered, dipping slightly as she stared at him unsurely. Crowley felt a hint of relief, though wouldn't calm completely until the nuke she had in her hand was gone.

"Then… why are you here?"

"Saw a sign, is all," he told her. "I love a good nightclub, me."

Her arm dropped completely. "Oh," she mumbled.

His smirk returned. "Anthony Crowley."

She gave a small nod. "I've heard of you."

"And I've heard of you," he said a bit happily. "Quite a reputation you have, Mother of Demons." She rolled her eyes. "The First Woman," She scoffed and turned her back, setting the bottle on her desk. "The Succubus and Stealer of Children."

"I'm aware of my nicknames," she said as she returned her attention to him. "Is there a point to you repeating them?"

His grin broadened and he bit tenderly into the tip of his tongue. She was growing irritated, and he rather liked it. It was fun now that the threat of his imminent death was gone.

"My personal favorite," he said. "Has always been Enslaver of Men."

"Oh, please," She scoffed. Lilith gave a little hop to sit on her desk, a hop that was far too adorable and sweet for a woman so dangerous to give in order to sit on the tall piece of furniture. "You, on the other hand, big fan."

His brows rose high and his body took on a very real, who, me? posture, though it rang completely hollow. A man (or demon) who was not humble was never very good at faking it.

"Really?" The word sounded almost swooned, but he couldn't help it. The fact that his reputation preceded him was always nice. "Which bit?" Still bearing a wide, toothy smile, he was more than willing to hear her talk about him.

For whatever reason, be it his obvious glee to be spoken about, or disbelief of the situation she found herself in, Lilith smiled and let out a small laugh. She shook her head a little, which told Crowley it was likely the latter.

"May I tempt you with a drink, Mr. Crowley?"

"Always," He smiled wide.

London

Present

Finding one Anthony J. Crowley was a rather simple venture if one decided to try. Not many people owned a 1926 Bentley, and those who did kept if far, far away from London. Not only was the vehicle a monstrous thing to try and shove down the sometimes narrow yet always crowded streets, but it was too valuable, too precious. Perhaps Crowley felt the same for his car, and perhaps fueled by demonic power he never had to worry for it. Both were possible and likely true. However, because of those simple facts that pertained to humans, his Bentley was rather easy to find.

Lilith spotted the car and drove toward it, parking her Ducati Monster 821 Stealth in front of his classic beauty. She dismounted, pulled her helmet from her head and set it on the handlebars, and let her eyes travel to the block of flats. His name wasn't on any of them, but the smell of evil would guide her.

As she approached the building, Lilith glanced once more over her shoulder at the two vehicles, both black and gleaming in the afternoon sun. They looked a pair.

Her attention returned to the task at hand.

Lilith's boots clomped against the concrete and the chains on them tinkled. Dressed head to toe in leather, she drew attention, but knew it hardly mattered. It wasn't really the clothes. There was an aura that circled her, an invisible thing that drew people in. The more wicked the heart, the easier they were drawn, but the good weren't entirely immune, either.

It was her fault, really. It was part of her promise to Adam to corrupt, infect, and destroy the souls of his children. Lilith hadn't thought at the time that God would "accommodate", but it was the perfect sort of revenge. It more or less guaranteed that Lilith would never have another real relationship again because she'd turned her back on the one God gifted her. Honest feelings would never be possible, only lust, desire, and longing. Never love.

Once inside the building, Lilith found an elevator and rode it into the sky to Crowley.

Crowley stood in his office, surrounded by the floating pages from his book of the universe. He didn't want to leave Earth, not really, but he had no choice. Hell on Earth would be, well… that was self-explanatory, but Heaven on Earth wasn't even an option. The angels had every intention of killing his lot, and if they succeeded, he'd clearly be dead. Not discorporated –dead.

Either way, not matter who won, the world would lose. All of those places he enjoyed going, all of the things he loved doing, his flat, his possessions, his CAR! All of it would cease to exist.

Crowley felt hopeless, and that was something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

"God, ya listening?" He called to the sky, hanging over the back of his throne, staring expectantly at Heaven. "Show me your Great Plan." But there was no response. "Okay, I know," His heart sank a bit. "You're testing them. You said you were gonna be testing them, but you shouldn't test them to destruction." He untethered himself from his throne and approached the globe he'd left spinning only a few feet away. "Not to the end of the world."

He swatted the object away, but it swept back into view, returning and spinning as though nothing had happened. Crowley's brows tugged together as he sighed.

When he turned, ready to simply leave his flat altogether, he spotted Lilith. She was leaning her shoulder against the doorway to his office with her arms crossed and her red eyes on him. He was temporarily dumbstruck to see her standing in his home.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Since you declared that you'd only ever asked questions," she told him as she stood upright. "You only asked questions. I only refused to submit." She held her arms out. "Look at us now."

"Eh," He mumbled the sound in quiet agreement, arching a brow when he had.

"Nowadays, you can murder a thousand people, but so long as you ask forgiveness," Lilith sarcastically took a praying pose, pressing her palms together and bowing her head. "Heaven is yours." Crowley smirked a little. "Why weren't we offered that? Could've used it."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "S'pose we were meant to know better."

"Know better?" She gave him a judging eye. "An angel, perhaps. Your lot was ancient by then. I was brand new. There were no rules yet." Lilith stopped her advance at his throne, throwing her elbow onto it as she stared at him. "Perhaps, if She didn't want me to have a mind of my own, She shouldn't have given me one."

He gave her another noncommittal sort of answer before speaking again. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to speak with you."

"About?" He clicked his T when he spoke.

Crowley looped his elbow over the other spire on the back of his chair. There was less than a foot between them. Standing so close, Crowley was struck with how attractive Lilith was. Generally, demons were quite atrocious-looking creatures -unfortunate, really. Crowley was something else. As he always thought, he was a rather exceptional-looking demon, a Handsome Devil, if you will.

But Lilith was similar. No oozing sores or slimy creatures clinging to her face. Instead, her skin was perfectly smooth, and perfectly porcelain, like fine China. Then again, he wasn't entirely surprised. Her lot was made perfect. That was their purpose. Lilith, Adam, and Eve were the ideal specimens.

Adam, despite being an unmitigated bastard, was in fact an incredible statue to base human males on. Even Crowley had to admit it, though that standard had dropped significantly in the last few thousand years.

Eve, sweet little acquiescent Eve, was a stunning creature, absolutely beautiful. She never stood a chance, though. Poor lamb was all but doomed from the beginning. What could one truly expect when she'd been made from one of Adam's ribs? It seemed God learned Her lesson with Lilith. Too much freewill, that one. God didn't make the same mistake again.

The two stood there staring at one another, Crowley waiting for whatever she had to say and learning, very quickly, that perhaps speaking wasn't the first thing she had on her mind.

To his surprise, Lilith reached forward, wrapped a hand around the back of his head, and pulled him to a kiss. His eyes were open and wide, his brows tugged together in shock as to what was happening.

And then a voice in the back of his head simply said, sure.

That was all the prompting he needed, the only bit of encouragement that mattered. He was a demon, after all.

Crowley relaxed into the action and the kiss was deepened shortly after. He felt her demonic energy, her evil, and the Hellfire that burned inside her just as easily as she probably felt it from him. He also felt that fabled desire that likely rendered humans useless. She'd been turned into a succubus-like demon, after all. It made sense. And as a demon, Crowley tasted it (it was rather delicious, the sin of lust) he wasn't as overwhelmed as those with a weaker constitution would be.

The kiss lasted a moment, perhaps two, before Lilith drew back. He arched a curious brow as he stared at her, took a deep breath and let it out as a bit of a sigh.

"Well, that happened," he muttered.

"I never had a chance to thank you properly for what you did," she told him, inching back to her previous spot a foot from him. "You helped give me the courage to flee."

He narrowed his eyes a bit. His mind flashed back to his conversation with Aziraphale and the angel questioning whether or not Lilith would agree that Crowley had helped her.

"What about what happened after?" he asked skeptically.

She rolled her eyes, scoffed a little, and shrugged a shoulder -all signs that told him she still disapproved of it.

"Not your fault." She said. Lilith began to take slow, deliberate steps away. "I don't think either of us thought God would react that way. She's the one who sent the angels to slaughter my children. She's the one who decided, after the massacre of a thousand innocents, that I wasn't worth the effort, and simply made Adam a new wife. And She's the one who turned me into this. Not you."

"Right," he said under his breath.

"So," Lilith turned her back to him and set off toward the hall, threading off her jacket as she did. "Your bedroom's this way, is it?"

Crowley snapped into the moment. "What?" He asked, just as she tossed the garment away in the foyer near his plants.

She continued on, removing her t-shirt next and called back to him, "I haven't finished thanking you yet."

Both eyebrows rose in surprise. Just before Lilith would have disappeared down the hall to the right, where he did in fact have a bedroom, she dropped her pale grey shirt to the floor.

Crowley opened his mouth to speak, but the words weren't forthcoming. He even found himself glancing around the room briefly as though some invisible spectator would be able to offer him advice. There was no one. Of course there was no one.

"Sure," He finally said. Crowley set off after her, untucking his shirt as he went.