Author's Note: Thank you all for reading and enjoying. I hope that you like it. I will write as long as it's still fun. I appreciate all of you. Love you bunches. I don't own any supernatural characters.
The car comes to a slow halt in front of the day care center. Crowley's menacing eyes scope the area. Confident of himself Crowley climbs out of the car and begins the brisk walk to the front door. From the outside he already hears the laughter of children and can see the smiles upon their faces. He grimaces in disgust. "You would want them if you could just try it for one day," Sara would always tell him. There was never a day when Crowley would believe her of course.
Carefully, Crowley stepped around the children to get to the oblong front desk. The old sign sways slowly above the area saying "check in/out". Sighing, Crowley lays his hands on the counter. The cold breeze sends a chill down the young, blond clerk's neck. Crowley tells her, "I have been assigned by Mrs. St. John to pick up Haillie."
"One second," the clerk says and looks down at the computer screen with her hazel eyes. Then, she glances up to Crowley and asks with a questionable look, "Who would you be? I haven't seen you in here. We can't just hand over our children to strangers." She smiles brightly.
Crowley rolls his eyes impatiently and sighs. He racks his brain for the answer to this problem. Angrily, he pulls out a gun, but conceals it to where only the young woman can see it. Crowley malevolently tells her in a whisper, "Get the child now or I take down every last living, breathing person in here. That will all be on you." The lady looks at him wide eyed and nods, running back to get Haillie. With a grin Crowley puts away the gun.
A little girl about one and a half toddles over followed by the desk clerk. The little girl looks up at Crowley with her big green eyes. He brushes back her light blonde hair as he picks her up. Crowley snaps his fingers and the desk clerk disappears, taking away the risk of telling.
Haillie clings to Crowley as he pushes open the door and strides out. The car door opens gracefully with one snap of Crowley's fingers. Haillie watches him, amused by his essence as he straps her into the pink and black car seat in the back of the Taurus. "Daddy," she says happily.
"Oh, no, no, no. I am not your father. He's dead. You are just my bargaining chip. Don't start calling me things. You stay silent, and let's see just how much your mommy is actually willing to give up for you," Crowley tells Haillie as he starts the car and flips open his older model phone.
The car takes off down the highway as a woman's voice answers, "Hello?" Crowley grins evilly. "Hello?" the voice persists. Crowley takes a sharp right hand turn down an empty back road.
"Mrs. St. John," Crowley starts with evil intent, "I have your daughter, Haillie. She's a very pretty little girl. You took something from me, so I will take something from you, your daughter." There is a gasp on the other end of the line. Crowley chuckles looking in the rearview mirror at Haillie.
Sobs come from the other side of the phone. Mrs. St. John pleads, "Crowley, please I will give you everything back just don't hurt her. You know she's the only thing I have left. They slaughtered my husband because of the fact we are mixed breed monsters. I can't lose Haillie, too."
"I want more than what you took. I need the curse boxes you are in possession of, the current prophet, oh and you need to get me the colt," Crowley demands loudly. For a second he thinks and adds the stipulation, "I need it all by midnight tonight or Haillie dies in the most horrific and torturous way I can possibly imagine, and you of all people know I have a rather large imagination. I will make it long and painful. If you value your daughter's life you will get me everything I want in this timely fashion."
Mrs. St. John reassures Crowley, "I will. I will meet you at your house at midnight with everything. Please just don't hurt her before that." Crowley hangs up the phone smiling.
With a sharp turn of his wheel, they pull into his driveway affront his mansion gates. An older gentleman with gray hair presses the button, and the bronze gates swing open. Quickly, Crowley swings into his parking spot.
It takes little effort to get the straps to the car seat undone. Haillie clings onto Crowley's side and chews on his jacket shoulder without Crowley's knowledge. As Crowley unlocks the front door he is met by a surprise, Gilbert.
"Gilbert, you were dead. What's going on?" Crowley asks the small animal. A quiet meow is the response Crowley gets. He sets Haillie down next to Gilbert. The Tabby Cat brushes up against her and purrs. "Gilbert, we do not associate with mutts like that," Crowley reprimands the cat as he walks into his office cautiously.
At his desk his chair is turned around. Someone sits comfortably in it. Crowley doesn't make any loud noises as he sneaks towards it. It is almost impossible to get in here, how did this "person" do it? Crowley is wondering to himself. Crowley slips the gun out of his pocket and loads it just in case. He is mere inches away from the chair.
"Daddy!" Haillie shouts from behind him causing the chair to swivel around. The woman smiles and says, "Hey there, Crowley. Trying to take advantage of my friends are you? I don't think I can let that happen." She pulls out the colt aiming it straight at Crowley. She grins with her finger on the trigger.