Sam was off on the hunt for a long time again, much to Crowley's chagrin. He was growing tired of annoying Kevin by singing the worst of what British pop had to offer. (Ah, TV Talent Competitions: providing endless soul revenue for years. Cowell was a miracle worker.) The prophet wasn't coming in to flog him with a stick. Then maybe he could bite the bugger and ingest some blood. Would it have the same effect as injecting it? He wanted to know. For research purposes.

But that little piece of humanity in him told him to let up on the boy. Besides, there was only so much Cher Lloyd he could stand before he lost his precious little sanity. Plus, Sam might snap at him when he got back. And he was not going though the same little "adventure" he went through last time. Though he did learn a valuable life skill.

~0~

Sam made his way to where they stashed Crowley. He passed Kevin, who practically hugged him. "THANK YOU! He wouldn't let up! If you guys hadn't told me not to, I'd have murdered him. So. Much. One Direction. But of course, he stopped just a minute or two ago. Must've gotten bored..." He walked off, leaving Sam to finish his walk to Crowley.

He paused beside the doorway when he heard Crowley singing:

"...because maybe... You're gonna be the one that saves me. And after all... You're my wonderwall!"

Sam smiled a bit. He could feel a sincerity in Crowley. "There's your humanity..."

~0~

Crowley smirked when Sam finally showed his pretty face again. "Sam... Way to stand me up..." Sam rolled his eyes as he sat down. "Sorry to inconvenience you. We never know how long a hunt will be." "They usually seem to take a book's length..." Crowley retorted. Sam buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Never mention those books again." Crowley grinned roguishly. "No promises, Moose..."

"So, you're going to keep your word?" Sam said. Crowley smiled. "Of course. I forgot how effective the silent treatment can be..." Sam sat back, arms folded. "Alright, let's hear it. What's up with you lately?"

"What's up with me? Well, for starters, I've been kidnapped by two flannel-garbed monstrosities. Then, they force me to turn human. But they can't be bothered to finish the job because precious little Sammy might die again, even though you boys constantly flip Death the bird and come back, and leave me a shadow of my former self.

"Now, I've got a psychotic harlot named Abbadon undoing all my years of work in Hell, usurping MY throne, and what can I do about it? Nothing! Why? Because the same two menaces are keeping me locked up in this cell. And the cherry on top of my discontent? I feel the need to use human blood to fix it. To finish what YOU started. And because part of me maybe liked humanity a bit, and meant what I said that night. THAT'S WHAT'S UP WITH ME!" Crowley slammed his hands on the desk.

Sam looked at Crowley like he was some sickly orphaned puppy he stumbled on. He didn't know if the Moose realized he had rested his hand over Crowley's. "I'm sorry about that, Crowley. I really am. If I'd have had my way that night, I'd have finished the job. It'd certainly have simplified things around here. Dean'd only have the angels to deal with..." Something sparked in his eyes. "Stay right there..." he said, getting up.

Crowley looked at Sam unimpressed. "Stay right here? Are... Are you serious, Moose?" Sam shook his head. "You know what I mean. I got a solution to this. At least for you..."

A/N: So, here you go! Fun fact: you know that scrapped Mooseley fanfic idea I mentioned earlier? I had a scene that involved a Sam and Crowley moment in The Impala and on the radio, "Wonderwall" by Oasis would be playing. (Dean and Cas would've been asleep in the back, thus why the radio wouldn't be blasting Classic Rock. So there's another scene I repurposed for here! Hooray for editing! \'o'/ That is all. Carry on, my wayward companions! -CH