Chapter 3: No Worldly Honour, Rank or Pleasure

Oh how she longed for a simpler life. You know, the days where cutting off a drunk hunter at the bar seemed about as dangerous as life got.

Now she stood in front of an ego-centric demon who owned her soul at an unknown cost until death did them part. Words couldn't describe the horrible sensations flooding her stomach. She wanted to storm at him in a fit of rage, and yet simultaneously slip into the foetal position for the rest of her (literally) God-forsaken life. Her hands had curled into fist balls so tight her nails were piercing through skin. At least it was distracting her from the incessant need to throw up.

What on earth did he mean? Foolish for entering into a deal to save her life? She was given an ultimatum to decide, and so she took the only route which had the capacity of saving her from a one-way trip into hell. And now he calls her foolish for deciding before hearing the details? Typical demon. Typical, vile, manipulative demon. Given the option, she would sell her soul right now to have the fabled Colt in her hands, if only to empty a bullet into the back of his disgusting brain. The bastard.

'You owe me an explanation. Now.'

'No, I'm afraid I don't.'

'Oh, you don't?' She asked in mock assent. 'You don't? You just sentenced me to a life of servile... innuendo... and you don't think I-'

His smug air evaporated immediately. Apparently he didn't enjoy being yelled at.

'-I'm sorry to disappoint you sweetheart, but you willingly entered a deal – with a demon I might add – to bind your soul to me, and you expect it to come up all hearts and roses? Instead of testing my limits it would be in your best interests to settle your stubborn ass down and DO AS I SAY!'

'You perfidious asshole,' she spat. He looked at her, calmer.

'Sit down.' It wasn't a request, it was a command. She felt compelled to obey. Automatically she felt an unseen force pull her into the armchair to her left. The thought scared her out of her mind; what had she agreed to?

'Now if you'll calm down-'

'You expect me to be CALM! When-'

'SILENCE!' The words were taken from her mouth as she felt her throat close around her. Tears stung her eyes as the overwhelming permanency of the situation sunk in. For lack of a more appropriate phrase, she had sentenced herself to be a demon's bitch until the day she died. She suddenly longed for her contract back. At least then the final years of her life could be spent with family, friends and the people she loved. Not like this, not under the command of a demon.

'Hell, are you crying?' He asked, distaste crossing his face. 'I hate it when they cry.' Jo was still unable to speak; the tears just spilled unashamedly down her cheeks.

'I know it sounds cliché, but how about I go through the monologue? Sit tight,' he chuckled, 'well, it's not like you're going anywhere.'

'You agreed to bind your soul to me. This isn't your usual run-of-the-mill Crossroads deal. More like a, ah, willing surrender of control.' She shot a scornful look at him. 'What do you expect love?' He raised his arms, 'demon? It appears you forgot that.'

'You arouse a certain level of intrigue. You're a curious one Harvelle, how you abandoned your homely ties to fix your little mess. I'd expect your mother and the Winchester Beach Boys would be more willing to lend a hand to your cause. A foolish move if you ask me. Foolish, but curious.' She didn't react.

'Still, I'm feeling particularly generous today. How about you and I negotiate a few terms in this arrangement? As much as I enjoy the idea of a servant, I would rather our relationship be, for lack of less lascivious terminology, consensual, if all else. You may speak.' Ironically she found she had nothing to say.

'You would prefer to remain in servitude? I will consider that consent if you will.'

'I would prefer nothing less. If it were my choice I would revoke any deal I made with you at all.'

'See that's not an option.'

'I realise that,' she spat, 'but I would like to negotiate an agreement where I retain full control from you. If you need me for my hunting prowess I will oblige, but nothing you command of me will be binding. Do you agree?' She offered, nervous yet gradually calming down. He was clearly not interested in hurting her.

'Yes, to an extent. But I think you already know I entered this deal with other intentions.' He was right. She did know, but since this witty exchange of banter began she was hoping she was wrong. But she refused to speak first. Sensing her hesitation, he continued, 'let's just say the phrase "for a lack of less lascivious terminology" was a slight distortion. I meant it; in every sense. You know... demon and all.'

She turned away, still unable to move from the chair.

'Do I have a choice here?'

'Not unless you want to retain this status quo.' She shook her head, unable to comprehend the decision she felt she was coerced into making. Her look turned from borderline trusting to disgusted once again.

Noticing this, he added, 'you must know by now, my dear, that power is inescapable. It is part of every single interaction, whether you notice it or not; either you have it, or your opponent does. I am merely trying to restore the balance of power here. It is up to you to take the egalitarian or more... authoritative road. Believe me when I say I'm being uncommonly generous.'

She turned away from him; his eyes were too piercing, too omniscient for her liking.

The minutes ticked by. He didn't move, neither did she. And yet, inside her mind thoughts were racing at a hundred ks an hour.

Am I up for this? Can I really fathom the idea of what he is proposing?

You don't have a choice girl; you either give your consent or go against your will.

Yes, but at least if it was non-consensual I would not have to live with the shame of finding myself in ... certain ... positions by choice.

Would you really prefer that though? Would that really be a barrier against shame? You know you'd feel worse if you surrendered all control in such situations.

It all comes down to two choices: To be coerced into acts I detest, or to willingly walk into them.

She turned to Crowley and found herself nodding. He waved his arm and she felt able to move from the chair.

'Very well then, if you don't mind-'

'No, we haven't finished yet love. I just released you from my command to sit down. We haven't sealed or unsealed the deal yet I'm afraid.'

At least this time she knew what was coming, and could attempt to get some form of pleasure out of it. He walked forward and roughly kissed her. It was animalistic, raw and exceedingly dexterous. She grabbed his hair, unconsciously pulling him deeper into the kiss, letting off an involuntary moan into his mouth. As he pulled away she felt the undesirable, unwanted, unwelcome need for one simple thing: more.

This thought was quickly pushed from her mind as the scars opened up on her skin again, and the lines of words drawn in her blood shone in the dim light. Again, certain lines were thrown around, with some vanishing from sight. Seconds later, they sunk back into her skin, and she felt a tension lift from her shoulders. Immediately she knew it had worked.

'Well then, I guess I best be on my way then.' She was confused. She thought there was something else he would have needed to seal the deal.

'I thought-'

'My my, a bit eager aren't we?' He retorted, smirking.

'No. I simply assumed you would have expected some form of payment.' She replied pointedly. God he knew how to push her buttons.

'Not tonight love.' He winked. 'I'll be in touch.'

Suddenly she was alone in her small apartment. The odd feeling she had felt over the past day of being watched disappeared immediately with him. Obviously this is what he was after all along. She didn't know whether or not to be disgusted or relieved. She was free of her deal, but at what cost? To bed with the devil himself? Life had taken a dramatic and unforseen turn she did not know she was comfortable with.

'The Devil is an egoist I know,' she recounted to herself, sighing; she should be thankful that this devil had shown her some form of kindness. It had been a long night.

Registering how overwhelmingly tired she was, she changed into her pyjamas (taking special care to close all windows as an extra precaution against unknown Peeping-Toms) and fell onto the bed.

A/N: Thanks to the fabulous Goethe for the title.

Also, the quote "The Devil is an egoist I know" is an abbreviation of "The Devil is an egoist I know: And, for Heaven's sake, 'tis not his way, Kindness to anyone to show" said by Faust. I use it here because it describes Crowley to a T: An egotistical demonic bastard. Yeah, that's him.

Also, I might add, I started the story with the Prelude because I don't want people to think that this Crowley is a nice person. As will be discovered later on, showing mercy is very different to being nice. He's a dick. Plain and simple.

I'll also add a forewarning: This is the last of the pre-written chapters. I have every plot line worked out (and believe me, I'm going to be throwing these characters around the bloody twist), but this will be the last update for a while. Although, if people are enjoying it, I can make myself write faster... *hint hint*

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-thesolitaryone-