A/N: It's Thursday, my dudes. You know what that means! Strippers and ice cream for everyone! No…I don't have that kind of money. Writing fic doesn't pay the bills, unfortunately. If I could get one dollar for my total views across all my stories in a lump sum right now, do you know how beautiful that would be? *coughcough*Joinmy*coughcough*Idonthavea*coughcough*Soundslikeahellofanideathough*cough* Jesus, cold and flu season hits hard, doesn't it? Fake assistant, can I get some water, please? You don't have any water, ma'am. Remember? You had it all replaced with anything containing caffeine. Oh, that's right. The watercooler is actually full of Red Bull. Well, get me some of that. Yes, ma'am. Right away…

But all that aside, I do believe you're here for a little Supernatural fic that's currently going through a little bit of melodrama? Then again, what's Supernatural without the melodrama? But! We do have the little devil we know and love hanging around our adoptive Winchester, so we got that going for us. Yay! Let's see what those crazy kids are up to this week, yeah?

When I woke up the next morning, I half expected my new roommate to be in my face. Nothing. Not even a good morning. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he wasn't even here, but demon stink was all over the place here. I needed coffee. That's for damn sure. I walked out into my kitchen and got a pot started. Cup...Cup...I felt around in my cabinet blindly for a clean coffee cup.

That's when things took a strange turn. I glanced in my sink for maybe a second or two. Last I checked, I had dishes in here. They were clean, but I hadn't gotten around to putting them away. I looked into the living room. Spotless. What the hell kind of topsy-turvy universe did I wake up in. Then, with a neat, little bow, the note on the fridge tied everything together.

Hire a maid.

xoxo

-C

I should've known he had something to do with it. Bless him. For being a demon, Crowley really could be a sweetheart. Before I got too overwhelmed by my clean apartment, I went back to my coffee. Wake up a bit more, Lena. You'll be alright. OD on caffeine and you'll be fine. I did need some creamer, though. When was the last time I bought creamer? It's probably on fumes by now.

When I opened the fridge, my heart stopped. I couldn't remember the last time I had a full fridge. Right down to my Almond Joy creamer! Hell yeah! This was amazing! Food in the fridge, a clean apartment, and I didn't have to do any of it. Hot damn, it's going to be a good day. I haven't had many roommates in my lifetime, but I'm sure I could call Crowley the best roommate I've ever had.

"Lena, I'm back," Crowley came in through the front door, "I did a quick sweep of Baltimore and you seem to be..."

I threw myself in my favorite demon's chest, hugging him tight, "Thank you."

"Ok...?" he peeled me off him, "Why? Why the sudden affection?"

"You know what you did," I awed, "I'm just saying thank you."

"Whatever you say," Crowley inched away from me, "Are you on any sort of new medications I should know about? Allergies, mood elevators?"

"Did you or did you not clean my apartment last night?"

"I might have gotten bored while you were sleeping," he fessed up, "And I didn't want to draw too much attention to myself. What of it?"

"Never mind," I let that gift horse go, "So, about that whole howling at the moon thing..."

"I know of it."

"What all does that entail?" I wondered, kicking my bare feet up on my coffee table.

"Think of it this way," Crowley put it into perspective, "What's one thing you've always wanted to do, but you could never do it because of what would happen?"

"I don't know," I thought it over, "Bungee jumping would probably be pretty cool, but I'd more than likely end up hurting myself."

"You're thinking too small," he rolled his eyes, "Think bigger."

"Bigger, huh?" I kept digging around in my mind, but came up short, "I don't know. I guess I never thought about it before."

"I want you to think of this as fun without consequence," Crowley explained, "A nonstop party train and you're the one behind the wheel."

"All the fun and none of the guilt?" I must admit. Crowley was painting a very pretty picture, "So...Like, robbing a liquor store and then, we break into a Hostess factory and have ourselves a night?"

"That's more like it," he praised, "Still a bit small scale. I was thinking an empire, but cheap wine and Twinkies sound nice, too. And it can go on as long as you want it to. Wherever you go, I can make anything you want happen."

"You know," I grabbed my cigarettes off the kitchen table. Where the hell did Crowley put my lighter? I could've sworn I left it right here, "Where is it?"

"What?"

"My lighter," I shot him a glare, "If you were the one to do all the cleaning last night, you must have moved it. Where did you put it?"

"You and I are going to be spending a lot more time together, Lena," Crowley took my lighter out of his pocket, "Can't really have one without the other, can we?"

"Very funny," I rolled my eyes, "Come on, Crowley. Give me my lighter."

"Only if you give me your cigarettes."

I let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, "You're not giving me much of a choice, are you?"

"Nope."

"It's like I told Sam," I sat next to the little devil, "I can quit them any time I want to, but they can't quit me."

"That's the biggest line of bull I've ever heard," Crowley scoffed.

"Yeah," I slipped my hand in his pocket, "But it was enough of a distraction."

"I will get you to quit by the end of our time together," he assured, "I can promise you that."

"How do you figure?" I opened up the living room window and lit the end. It's raining outside. I don't want to stand in the rain. Screw that, "My sleight of hand is perfect."

"Because," Crowley smirked, "I'm going to get you hooked on something even more addicting."

"Adrenaline?"

"Sure," he nodded, "Let's call it that."

"Sounds good," I approved, "When can we start?"

"As soon as we leave," Crowley decided, "And by the way, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Shoot," I allowed, "I'm an open book."

"Do you have any idea what a vegetable is?" he scolded, "When I went to clean your refrigerator last night, all that was in there was an empty bottle of coffee creamer, half a bottle of hot sauce, and a Chinese takeout box!"

"Did you throw out my Chinese food?" I worried, "That was still good yet."

"No, it wasn't!" Crowley squeaked, "And yes, I did!"

"You owe me," I grumbled, "That chow mein was still fine."

"Lena," he pointed out, "I think one of them moved."

"Ha, ha," I laughed sarcastically, "There's no way those leftovers were more than a few days old."

"Precisely!" Crowley was really starting to sound like he was trying too hard to be my mother and I needed to get a rolled-up newspaper, "My god, child. Someone needs to love you."

"Yeah," I pouted, "Because someone threw out my breakfast. Dick."

"I got you kale," he told me, "I suggest putting it to use."

"I don't understand," I finished off my cigarette, "I used to cook all the time. And I'm not too bad at it. But ever since I've moved to Baltimore, I've hardly used my stove for anything other than occasionally boiling water."

"Ever wonder why that could be?" Crowley asked.

"What?" I closed my window just enough to keep some fresh air circulating in here, "Are you going to be my shrink now?"

"No," he kept his head about him, "I'm just saying that one little thing has changed in the last almost year."

I knew exactly what he was digging at. I didn't like it, but it might be a good idea to vent. And who else is going to understand me better than him? "He called me last night…"

"Which one?" Crowley wondered, "Moose? Squirrel? One-night stand that I don't know about?"

"Dean," I keep forgetting he's got cute, little nicknames for the boys, "They're in Boston right now."

"Vamp nest," he added, "I know. I'm in their loop, too."

"I didn't know that much." Rude, "You know…Boston's only about six and a half hours from here by train…"

"So?" Crowley gave me a little nudge, "You want to go? We can decapitate vampires just as well as your brothers."

"Better than my brothers," I corrected him, "The last time we busted vamp skulls, I had a pile of bodies at my feet and they might have gotten a couple each. I still have the scar from baiting them."

"Lena…" he gave me the look. Those sad, pitiful eyes that I could feel in my soul. I wasn't quite sure how to feel about it, but it made me twitch a little, "You want to take a quick trip to Boston?"

"I don't have the thirteen hours to spare," I shot him down, "I have a show to do tonight. And rehearsals until two. And then, shows from four to eleven. And maybe a little bit of doing drinks after the show, so I might not be home until midnight. Then, to make that six-and-a-half-hour train ride? I can't fit it into my busy work schedule."

"I understand," Crowley nodded, "And somewhere, you need to fit in how to make up more excuses to prolong the inevitable in there, too."

"I figure I can do that during my break times and intermission."

"Come on, Lena," he groaned, "You know you're going to run back to them eventually."

"Just not right now," I put my foot down. Even if I wanted to, there's no way I could face the boys right now. I didn't have any explanation for what I did that would come close to palatable for them. Saying that it was because I didn't want to be their burden would go over like a lead balloon, "Besides, I have to get ready for work. Can I trust you here by yourself while I'm gone?"

"You act like I'm going to burn the place down," Crowley chuckled, "I don't bring Hell with me, Lena. It stays in Hell. I'm not even going to be here. I have some errands to run. Some things to take care of. Things to do. Places to go. People to see."

"Are you going to be back here tonight?" I asked, trying not to sound like the worried mother that Crowley has become to me.

"I don't know," he thought, "I might. I might not. We'll see how the night goes."

"Night?" I questioned his sanity, "Crowley, it's noon."

"And don't you have a real job to get to?" Crowley fired back, "Go on. Go be a star, Roxie. Make me proud."

"You know," I finished my coffee and started heading back toward my bathroom, "If we ever needed an understudy for the guy playing Billy Flynn, I'd throw your hat in the ring."

"Flattered," he called after me, "But law was never my thing. Even my vessel wasn't a lawyer, believe it or not. But for now, like I said. Things to do. If you need anything, be sure to call."

"Will do!" I turned my shower on and got a little less disgusting. All this talk about the boys being in Boston has made me feel icky. Roxie Hart wouldn't take this. Then again, she went guano and killed the douchebag she was cheating on her husband with, so maybe I shouldn't be looking up to Roxie as a role model.

Once I had all my ducks in a row at home, I headed out to practice. And as much fun as doing Chicago has been, it's freakin' exhausting. Three shows a day? And the matinee on the weekends! Day in and day out, dealing with the pushy costume department and the dirty looks from the girls in the chorus with x amount of years of classical training, dreaming to be Roxie Hart, only to be outshined by the little hood rat off the street from the tech crew. Then, there were the people wanting pictures after the show. And even when I got home, looking for a little bit of sympathy, it'd be to an empty apartment. It'd be nice if Crowley would've given me the heads up, but oh well. This gave me the chance to score some more Chinese food!

A few days of hellacious torture later, still no sign of the ever so lovable King of Hell. At first, I started to get worried, but then, I remembered it was Crowley. Son of a bitch was crafty. If he got himself into a jam, I'm sure he would've been able to take care of it. At the very least, he would've called me. Or Sam and Dean. I'm pretty sure the entirety of monsters and creatures that go bump in the night knew better that the screw with someone who says their last name is Winchester. Those boys were practically rockstars among hunters and nightmares to the bad guys.

But really and truly, would it kill Crowley to pick up a phone? He wasn't even answering my calls. Or my texts. Or my emails. I might as well be sending smoke signals to a ceiling fan. I hadn't heard from him in what I thought was an eternity. Where, oh, where could my little demon have gone? Regardless, I still had one last show to do. Closing night. FINALLY. I could kick my feet up after tonight, sleep until two o'clock tomorrow afternoon, and be gone before nightfall. Which sucks, because I really did like it here. Being in Baltimore was nice while it lasted.

"Hey, Lizzie," one of the stagehands stuck his head in my dressing room a few minutes before the final showtime, "You busy?"

"I'm ready to go," I nodded, getting out of my chair in full regalia, "Why? What's up?"

"The guy from opening night is…"

"I'll see myself in, Junior," Crowley came waltzing back into my dressing room, "She is my client after all."

"Thank you, Tim," I sent the stagehand off and shut the door, "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Out and about," Crowley kicked his feet up on my couch, "Just testing a theory."

"It's so nice of you to do this MINUTES before curtain," I scolded, "You weren't answering any of my calls! I thought you said that if I needed something to call you. That doesn't really do me any good if my calls fall on deaf ears!"

"I know," he settled me, "And I'm sorry about that. But I think you have something to do now. Am I right?"

"I hate you so much right now," I glared into where his soul used to be, "So very much."

"I love you, too," Crowley kissed the top of my head, "Now, go on, Roxie. Make me proud."

I rolled my eyes and got to my first scene. It's a good thing the guy I kill was kind of a douche anyway. I guess he got typecast. I'm not going to lie. For this being a small theatre production, we had a hell of a cast. It almost made me wonder if a deal was what brought Crowley to town. I hope Mike wasn't that stupid. He's a good guy. He doesn't deserve eternal torment.

As the show progressed, as I killed that son of a bitch that wronged me, as I went to prison and reached for the gun…As all that jazz was nothing but another memory, I felt my stomach turn while I took my final bow. Because in the back row, past the blinding lights, I saw something I truly wasn't expecting. For the sake of appearances, I kept up my fake smile and continued my bows until I could make a beeline for my dressing room to throw up profusely in my bathroom. I could say all I wanted to about the costume department, but thank God for the girl that did my hair and makeup that knows how to contour.

I could almost see my reflection in their eyes. And in that reflection, the year we found each other. The year they helped me heal. The year we fought and played together. The year we laughed, we cried, we kicked ass and took names together. The year I found my family. Only for all those memories to come spilling out of my mouth.

"Were your nerves that bad?" Crowley wondered, thumbing through a trashy gossip magazine someone left on the coffee table.

"You son of a bitch," I snarled, "How could you?"

"How could I what?" he turned the page, not even making eye contact with me.

"You know damn well what!" my tirade continued, "What the HELL were Sam and Dean doing here?"

"You saw that, did you?" the corner of Crowley's mouth twitched, "You were left undecided on whether or not you wanted to see them."

"Yeah," I felt around in my jacket pockets. Where were my damn cigarettes? If Crowley decided to take care of them, too, I'm killing him. Right here and now with zero remorse, "But not like this!"

"They have no idea who Lizzie Blackstone is, Lena," he settled me, "Don't worry. They have no clue that was you. I told them that I'd treat them to a nice night at the theatre."

"And what'd they have to say about that?" I wondered, completely aware of how Dean felt about this kind of thing.

"Well," Crowley went on, "Dean said that's what my mother said to Lincoln. Naturally, they were skeptical, but I told them there were no strings and that something about it reminded me of them. Besides, after wiping out that vamp nest, they could stand a night off. And where better than beautiful Baltimore?"

"ANYWHERE ELSE!" I squealed, "Of everywhere they could've gone, anywhere that's not Baltimore would've been amazing. But some big mouth had to lead them here."

"They wanted to go back to looking for you," he added, "But I insisted they come here instead."

"Under the radar, Crowley," my forehead met the tabletop, "Under the radar!"

"I told you what this was for," Crowley pointed out, "I said I wanted to test a theory. That theory was if you were ready or not to face Sam and Dean. Clearly, the result of that test is a resounding no. So, now I present this suggestion to you. Are you ready to leave?"

"I'm ready to be numb." There was no way I was ready for that kind of a bombshell. One close encounter in Missouri was enough, but oh no! Let's have another!

"Come on," he put his arm around me, almost like he was shielding me from the rest of the world. I think that's as close to an apology as I'm going to get, "Let's get you out of here."

And that was how the two of us snuck out of the theatre from the back and left the theatre in the rearview. I hadn't seen Sam and Dean in the flesh since Missouri. And that was months ago. It had been almost a year since the Lucifer affair and yet, I still couldn't face them. All I wanted was a sweet numbness to wash over me while I drifted off to sleep. Bright and early tomorrow morning. We'll leave then.

A/N: Poor Lena. She's heaving her guts out after the last show when she should be celebrating. I just want to hug her. And I think Crowley's doing just that. Now, next week, we'll be out of Baltimore. She's no longer doing her run of Chicago. She's got her money. Everything's going to be great. Besides, it's Crowley. What's he going to do to her? He absolutely adores Lena and fears Sam and Dean, so he wouldn't dare hurt her. It's getting kind of late, kids. My dog is currently sleeping. I'm getting tired. But I'm going to stay up a little while longer and do some doodles. I got to coloring with my niece yesterday and I caught the artistic bug again. So, until later then. See you next chapter! xx