Chapter Four
Even with her growing anxiety, Murron knew she wouldn't be able to remain cooped up in the house forever. The pantry was growing bare, and while Crowley didn't seem to need to eat, she certainly did.
Crowley watched as she moved about the kitchen, a notepad in one hand, taking stock of what she needed. "I'll keep it brief," she told him, squeezing behind his chair to check the dish soap levels. "I'm sure you'll be fine here by yourself, but..."
"You'll worry anyway, I know," Crowley finished for her. "Honestly, darling, you really don't have to shut yourself up for my sake. I have every intention of getting out there again; you should, too. You've got the coin, I've got me: no reason why everything should be put on hold."
"Noooo, I don't think you understand," Murron laughed nervously, scooting away from the sink to the fridge. "I've never had to deal with demons that weren't contained in circles before; I don't want to invite trouble."
"Little late for that, don't you think?" Crowley gestured at himself. Murron cast him an annoyed glance over her shoulder. "Just stating the obvious," he remarked innocently.
"I'm very aware of the obvious, thank you," Murron informed him, mirroring his accent at 'obvious'. This drew an amused chuckle from the demon king. "Hell, didn't even know what to do with you once I got you," she muttered, shoulder deep in the icebox.
"I do have very good hearing, you know that, right?" Crowley quipped dryly from the table. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say I was having an influence on you."
"And I'm sure that pleases you."
"Of course."
Murron backed out of the fridge and closed the door with a foot as she turned towards the cabinets. She stared grimly at the list in her hands. "Longer than expected." She sighed. "Guess this is gonna be a longer trip that I would've liked."
"You'll be fine," Crowley assured her. "You really think I wouldn't have any insurance on my investments? Please."
"I suppose that's the closest I'll get to anything resembling concern from you," Murron remarked, smiling. Crowley shrugged. "Take what I can get."
"Probably the wisest course."
Murron blew out a steadying breath, then folded the list and slipped it into her bag. She gathered her things, paused as if to reconsider the whole thing and maybe order food online, but then shook her head. Crowley was right: there was no point in hiding here like a scared rabbit. She wasn't entirely defenseless against demons. She had the coin, plus a hex bag and spray bottle of holy water in her purse. The latter had been Crowley's idea, referring to it as a kind of supernatural mace. He'd kept his distance while she made it, not that Murron would have ever used it against him. Better safe than sorry, he'd said, eyeing the bottle as though it were a bomb.
She'd had to make a lot of adjustments in the house for him, actually. She kept the salt off the table, should the shaker be knocked over and hit him. If she had salt on her food, she made sure to either eat alone or apply it from the other side of the kitchen. Forget the time he almost snagged some of her popcorn while she watched a movie! She'd had to slap his hand away and hold the bowl far from his grasp. It had been the little things that reminded her of what was truly living under her roof, even before the sigils.
Crowley followed Murron into the living room, hovering by the sofa while she fumbled for her car keys and unlocked the door with a shaking hand. "I'll still try to keep it quick. I know I can't stop you from wandering off, but for my nerves' sake, please be here when I get back?" Murron pleaded, her eyes huge. Crowley smiled and gave her a little pat on the arm.
"I'll be here. Promise!" he added when she stared at him pointedly. "Go do what you gotta do. I'll be fine."
"I'll be quick," Murron repeated, backing out of the front door. "And if something happens -"
At that, Crowley gave her a very light shove, wiggled his fingers by way of goodbye, and closed the door on her anxious face.
Never before had food shopping been such a trying ordeal.
Murron hunched over her cart, trolleying up and down the aisles like a woman possessed. Anyone she passed, she looked away from, terrified any one of them could be a demon in disguise. This cornered-rabbit demeanor stayed with her until towards the end of her trip. It seemed the hex bag had done its job, so she lowered her guard as she browsed the meat cases.
As she bent towards the beef roasts, something tapped her on the shoulder. Anything resembling calm flew from her as she jumped at the contact and twirled around to face her 'assailant'. She looked into the puzzled face of one of her coven sisters, clearly surprised at Murron's reaction.
"Decaf, honey!" she cried, placing steadying hands on Murron's quaking shoulders.
"Rose!" Murron gasped. "What're you doing here?"
Rose gave a small, uneasy chuckle. "Have you been getting too close to the cauldron, sweetie? What do you think I'm doing here? It's a grocery store." She pointed to her own cart helpfully. "I was hungry," she mimed eating, "so I got in the car," she pretended to drive, "and came to the store!" She ended this pantomime with a grand gesture to encompass the whole store. Immediately, Murron felt ridiculous. Rose noticed this change and laughed heartily.
"Sorry, Rose, it's been a rough month," Murron apologised, rubbing her forehead wearily. Rose gave an understanding nod.
"The chemo not going well?" she asked, her voice a bit lower. "Is that why you haven't been coming to the sabbats?"
Murron did a small doubletake, then shook her head. "The chemo? Oh, no! No, that's not it at all. I'm...I'm cured, actually."
Rose gasped, one hand coming to her mouth excitedly. "You did the crossroads deal!"
Murron grinned as sheepishly as she could. "Sure did."
"How did it go? Did you get a cute one?" Rose sidled closer to Murron's side, elbowing her in the ribs playfully.
Images of Crowley's smug face flashed through her mind as Murron feigned a laugh. "Oh, you know it! Totally worth the whole selling of my soul thing!"
"Ten years of perfect health is better than nothing!" Rose said.
"Yeah, I suppose it is. I would've died, anyway, right?" Murron's spirits dropped as she remembered she'd never told any of her coven sisters her real plan. None of them had any idea of what she'd asked for or how long she'd given herself. But if it hadn't been worth it, she never would have bothered. Crowley's companionship was worth it, even with the new dangers. Unconsciously, she reached up to caress the coin at her throat. Rose caught this and leaned in to take a better look.
"Where'd you get that? It looks really, really old!"
"Old family heirloom. I found it in the attic," Murron replied, surprised at how easily the lie came to her. Crowley had been rubbing off on her, after all. "I haven't had a necklace in so long and thought it looked pretty, so...I put it on."
"Is it worth anything?" Rose asked next, glancing up at Murron's face. The strange serenity she found there gave her pause, then she smiled warmly. "It must be, if your expression says anything about it."
Murron smiled as well, a soft blush brightening her cheeks. "It is. It's worth a great deal."
"It must have been your father's, then, am I right?" Rose prompted. Still comfortable in the lie, Murron nodded. "I'm happy you found it, then. It's good to see you smile. When you first came to us, you were really down in the mouth. Though I guess we couldn't really blame you for that. Stage four breast cancer can't have been an easy thing to hear."
"No, it wasn't," Murron sighed, her hand moving from the coin to press against her chest. Rose stroked Murron's upper arm affectionately.
"But that's over with now, so let's focus on that," she said. "So, will you be joining us this weekend? Full moon and all that. Good for productive spells."
"I can't. I have a houseguest coming over then," Murron explained. Rose's eyebrows went up. "It's just a relative, don't get any ideas," Murron added with a laugh. "I'll catch up with you guys some other time. I'm just enjoying my health right now."
"I understand. Listen, you call me if you need anything, you hear?" Rose insisted, going back to her cart and starting off. "It was good to see you!"
"And you," Murron returned, waving back when her friend did. She watched Rose disappear around the corner of another aisle, then sighed. She lifted the coin close to her lips and whispered, "Totally worth it." She didn't care if Crowley could hear her; it was true. Compared to the sometimes-friendship of the coven, Crowley's constant presence in her life had left such a deep impact on her. Try as she might, she couldn't quantify that worth, nor did she really want to. It was enough to feel its worth and be done with it.
Her calm returning, Murron chose the roast she'd been eyeing since before Rose's arrival, put it in her cart, and started for the registers.
Crowley was in his usual spot, watching TV, when Murron came through the door, arms weighed down by multiple shopping bags. She kicked the door shut behind her and wobbled into the kitchen. Crowley turned the television off and joined her in the kitchen. He watched as she started to unload them, hands in his pockets, looking for all the world like it wasn't ending and he didn't have everything after him. Something about the very human, and oddly methodical, way Murron put groceries away left him slightly hypnotised. Murron didn't seem to notice his distance gaze until he gave a low laugh. She glanced over at him from her spot by the counters, one hand on the cabinet door and holding a box of au gratin potatoes in the other. "What?"
"I was just remembering something," Crowley replied, lifting his head to look at her. The twinkle of mischief she'd grown accustomed to flickered in his eyes. He held his silence, enjoying the anticipatory look on her face. "Totally worth it, eh?"
The box of potatoes slipped from Murron's hand; she caught it clumsily before it reached the floor, disappointed in herself for being so surprised. Of course he'd heard her; hadn't she said it without caring? Still, his repeating it to her gave her a start, and a very warm one at that. "Yes," she managed at last, stuffing the box between the others in the cabinet and closing the door decidedly. "It has been worth it."
"Do you really think I'm one of the, how did you put it? Cute ones?" Crowley continued, clearly enjoying himself. Murron's shoulders drooped in a silent sigh. "Because I'd certainly consider myself one of the sexier ones. 'Cute' is what you call a puppy or a kitten. Not a king. And definitely not this." He withdrew his hands from his pockets to wave them in front of his body.
"Finished?" Murron, who'd been leaning her hands against the table as he carried on, asked with raised brows. Crowley grinned.
"Not even close, darling."
"Never talking to myself again," Murron declared, snatching some canned vegetables up and marching back to the cabinets.
"You know you love it."
"Actually, Crowley, what I'd love is for you to -" Murron looked back at him with as much severity as she could manage, her words dying in her throat to see the familiar smug smile on his face. He gazed at her intently from beneath heavy-lidded eyes, his eyelashes, remarkably long for a man, partially concealing the sharp green of his irises. Murron swallowed hard, then forced her eyes from his. "Now are you done?" she asked, her voice tense.
"For now."
"Good." Murron resumed putting her groceries away in silence. Crowley held his tongue, sensing he'd put her off her humor somewhat. Deciding for a change in topic, he said:
"You should be careful about talking to your coven sisters. In case you've forgotten, witches commune with demons on a near regular basis. The hex bags and holy water will only protect you from demons, not big-mouthed dramawhores. Your best bet would be to sever all ties with them. It's too risky, especially for me."
Murron paused, her lips pressed together in a firm line. "I hadn't thought of that. I'll call them later and tell them I plan to go solitary. I would have done it, anyway, with or without the demon deal."
"Will they believe you?"
"Rose swallowed the lie about the coin, didn't she?"
"Did she?"
"You think she saw through it?" Murron asked, suddenly anxious. Crowley shrugged. "It came so easily, I thought it had to be convincing enough. What if she's talking to one of the demons coming after you? What if she tries to come here? She'll see the sigils and know something's up. Oh god, I really did not think this all the way through!" She lowered her face into her hands, overwhelmed. "I should have kept it short or told them I hadn't planned on coming back to the meetings after the deal went through!"
Crowley raised a stilling hand. "Now, don't make yourself crazy over this. If she did see through the lie, we'll know soon enough. Besides, the wards have been holding. You've done a good job here, Murron. Really."
Murron's hands dropped from her face, falling dejectedly at her sides. "Have I? It suddenly doesn't feel like it."
"Look," Crowley started, crossing the floor to stand beside her. "While you were out, I had a bit of a test. Don't look at me like that, you know damn well I can take care of myself. I popped out to have a look around, check on things. It's still the bloody Apocalypse and I'm still involved; no amount of hiding will change that fact. Point is, I was able to come back here without anything following me. So yeah, you've done a really good job here, darling. I don't say that to anyone else often, and certainly not to a witch barely out of the basics."
His words soothed her nerves, as they always seemed to, and Murron gave a slow nod. Crowley smiled, the kindness he sometimes showed reflecting in his eyes. He rested a warm hand on her shoulder, gave a gentle shake, and repeated a few more encouraging words. Murron's posture relaxed further and she returned the smile, albeit a little weakly. "Besides," Crowley added with a careless half-shrug, "if she does try anything, I'll just kill her."
"I'd like for it not to come to that, but if it has to..." Murron sighed and ran her hands over her face briskly. "But yeah, no point in worrying about what hasn't happened yet. If it even does."
"There's always the risk," Crowley reminded her grimly. "And when I'm at risk, I won't hesitate to destroy what's threatening me. Friend of yours or not."
"As if I could stop you?" Murron pointed out. As if I would? She kept that thought as low as possible, just in case he picked up on it. Sometimes it scared her to think how easily she'd given up friends, her coven sisters, her own life, all for him. The threat of death did strange things to people, she realized with a mental sigh. Very strange things. She looked back at Crowley, whose eyes remained on her face, his hand on her shoulder still. "I'll be fine," she promised in respose to the barest hint of concern in his stare. "Let me finish unloading and we'll...I don't know." She laughed, the high, shaky laugh of someone who felt they were losing their mind. "We really are making it up as we go along, aren't we?"
"It would seem so," Crowley agreed casually. "More fun that way, isn't it?"
Murron said nothing, preferring instead to smile patiently at him, as always whenever he'd make light of the dire situation they found themselves in. If Rose did alert the demons after him, they'd deal with it together.