I was in my Psychology class. The professor was droning on about Freudian theories, I think. Maybe Pavlov's dogs? Hell, I don't know. It wasn't pertinent to the exam upcoming, and the professor always posted the notes online. I could review them later.

I doodled a few aimless drawings. Different spell ideas, ones I hadn't thought out fully but were kind of just… Well… doodling. One was a revised Devil's trap, quicker and more efficient to draw, with salt infused in its creation. Another, same idea, but with holy water. Quicker ways to create holy water, a way to create it widespread, like across a college campus. Demon-proofing widespread, without a huge-ass devil's trap needed. I had a lot of pages scribbled across, all of the notes and non-drawings written down in Pictish Swirl.

My phone buzzed, again, for probably the hundredth time in twice as many seconds. I ignored it. Crowley had been sending me stupid-ass questions and emoticons all day, wondering why I was ignoring him and if we were "on the rocks" because "I had found a new collegiate demon."

His words. Not mine.

I felt it buzz again, and actually put effort in to focusing on the psychology lesson. Victorian psychosexual stages and why so much of that stuff was considered mental illness for so long, as well as how it contributed to them.

Note to self. Sex sells and apparently drives bat-shit crazy.

"Really?" A quiet voice asked beside me. I fought the urge to jump, turning to look at the person now occupying what used to be an empty seat. "You're ignoring me for crazy sex lessons?"

"Crowley." I seethed, keeping my voice quiet. "I'm in class."

"And now you're not." He said, snapping his fingers. We were outside the building, standing under a tree next to some very startled (and very stoned) freshmen. They stared at us, eyes wide, earning an eye-roll from Crowley. "Go on, you lot. Scat." He brushed his hands at them, flashing his red eyes.

I don't think I've ever seen stoned people run that fast.

"Really?" I asked him. "In the middle of my psych class?"

"Women were oppressed, people thought sex was demonic, and you were quite obviously bored." Crowley held up a hand, my notes and even my pen clenched between his fingers. He handed them back to me, and I took them quickly. "Plus, you warded your nice home with Mrs. Tran to the nines. I don't think I can get within fifteen feet of the place, much less anything else that's not 100% human or allowed by you."

"It's twenty feet." I corrected him quietly. I'd done a good job on those wardings, and you could bet your ass I was proud of them.

"What, did you have a weekend off?" Crowley asked. "Do you really not trust me that much?"

"You made a point about protecting Mrs. Tran." I stated. "I didn't want to leave her in danger."

"Yes, I can't quite get a lock on her, either." Crowley commented, looking at the new necklace I wore. "Your own design, I'm guessing?"

"Nobody can find either of us unless I want them to." I answered. "And only I can find Mrs. Tran right now."

"With magic, of course." Crowley reminded me. "But, you know, with normal means…" He shrugged.

"If you're here to threaten me or her," I warned him, but he waved a dismissive hand.

"Relax, I've got a job for you."

"Oh really?" I raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

"Yes, really." He looked almost hurt by my sarcasm. "You're a waste of talent here, Kylie. Look around." He waved an arm around at the space. "Community college. Classes on crazy sex-"

"Psychology." I corrected. He made an exasperated face at me.

"Psychology class and algebra and chemistry and 18th Century Literature-"

"Did you hack in to my schedule?"

"The point is that you're wasted talent, here." Crowley stated. "Look at what you did out of boredom!" He motioned to the pages in my hands. "And I bet you do more without meaning to for your classes, as well. Advanced computations and the like?" He raised his own eyebrows, smirking just a little.

"So what?" I challenged. "I like this life. I like college, and trying to be normal, and dinner with a family!"

"You're a witch." Crowley reminded me. "And a damn good one."

"So?"

"Lucifer is back." He hissed. At my lack of change in facial expressions, he looked mildly surprised. "And you know?"

"I pay attention to the news." I stated. Lotta bodies had been dropping, eyes burnt out of their skulls. Lucifer was looking for a new vessel. "I figure since he and God were pretty chill, though, that it can't be that big of a problem."

"God left again, and he's looking for a vessel." Crowley reminded me. "Do those really seem like the actions of someone that can't be that big of a problem?" When I didn't answer, he continued. "Why would he look for a vessel if nothing was wrong?"

He was right, it hadn't seemed 100% kosher to me either. But I was out, it wasn't my problem anymore. I didn't want it to be my problem anymore.

"And Dean is alive." Crowley continued. "You didn't kill him."

"What?" I didn't know about this. I couldn't help but feel ecstatic for a moment. Dean was alive. Sam was alive. Cas was alive. Everyone was alive. They just didn't know I was too.

"I know. Shocking, isn't it?"

"How do you know?"

"I've spoken with him." Crowley explained. "He and Cas are looking for Sam while I've been hunting down the Devil."

"What happened with Sam?"

"So you're interested?" I didn't answer. "Their mother is back, too, by the way."

"I felt something weird." I admitted. An old soul had returned. "But I didn't think it was that."

"Look, I get that you want out," Crowley said. "And I'll leave you out, I promise. I just want you to find the Devil for me."

"What makes you think I can do that?" Crowley just motioned to the notes in my hands. "Fine. Then what's in it for me?"

"Want a hellhound?" He offered. "Completely serious on this, by the way. Hellhound puppy. I know you can see them."

Very true, actually. I'd cast a spell both on myself and put every pair of Mrs. Tran's glasses through holy fire. I could see hellhounds without any aid, now, and Mrs. Tran could if need be.

"You know those are extremely volatile." I pointed out. "And dangerous."

"Good for ingredients."

"That's an actual living creature!" I pointed out.

"So you're in?"

I gritted my teeth, letting out a short huff of breath. "I'm going to need a leash." I said. "And this is just a one-time thing. It'll be a great guard dog."

"Leash, engraved collar, even a few bags of meat for food to start you off." Crowley offered. "A hellhound is gonna be a big responsibility, though."

"Said the man who's offering it." I pointed out.

"So we're in agreement?" Crowley asked. I looked around, letting out a huff of air.

"Just finding the Devil." I said. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"And in return you get added protection in the form of a dog." Crowley reminded me.

"This is going to be fun to explain." I muttered. "Hey, Mrs. Tran. Yeah, I enchanted your glasses in case of an emergency, but don't worry, this hellhound with us is here to protect us, courtesy of the demon you loathe with a burning passion. I think I'll name it Trixie."

"So you're in, right?" Crowley asked.

"You gonna do my homework, too?" I asked. Crowley thought about it, then nodded. "And I want this to be A-quality work."

"I feel so used." The demon muttered, but I could see a bit of a smile on his face.

"You missed me." I accused him. "Admit it, you missed having me around."

"You're the one who misses hunting." Crowley responded. He still couldn't quite hide that smile, though.

"I want this deal in writing." Crowley reached in to his pocket, pulling out his own rolled up papers. In his other hand, a pen.

I signed it much too eagerly.