Disclaimer: I don't own SPN, but the plot line is mine.
Also, many apologies for the delay in this chapter. I have a good reason for it, but it's far to bizarre. That being said, you may typos of unreasonable stupidity in this chapter. Be warned.
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Burdened with the dread of knowing she'd have to deal with Bobby later, Alice headed for the interstate as she tried to think of someplace she could use the scrying stone. After passing run down houses, businesses closed for the night, and miles of undeveloped land, the neon glow from a bar near the interstate caught her attention. As her cell phone rang in her pocket, she eased to the side of the road and pulled it out of her pocket. She knew it was risky to slow down, much less stop; Bobby ultimately knew where the map would take her. If he wanted to stop her badly enough, he could catch up to her. She killed the engine and took a deep breath before answering.
"Bobby, hear me out—"
"You use that stone and I'll make damn sure you regret—"
Without a word, Alice dropped the call and stuffed the phone back into her pocket. She waited anxiously for a truck to pass her; she knew that in the dim light she wouldn't be able to identify Bobby's truck until it was bearing down on her. With a sigh of relief as it passed her by, she pulled back onto the highway. She wondered if her plan was worth the damage to her friendship with Bobby. She didn't have many friends and she couldn't afford to lose any more of them. She didn't want to think of what Bobby would do about it, he could have a temper when someone crossed a line. Stealing his stuff wasn't just toeing the line; it was jumping over it and setting it on fire.
She glanced around the bar's packed parking lot before spreading the map out on the hood of a pickup truck parked under the ugly green and blue lights. She hadn't used a scrying stone in ages. Over years of being used by one person, they tended to get finicky when in new hands. Glancing around to make sure no one was around to watch her, she pulled the silver chain from her pocket, the dangling stone glowing in the muted light. She held the chain over the crinkled map and muttered the necessary words.
Nothing happened. She rolled her shoulders, concentrated on the stone, and tried again. Still, the stone hung like a dead weight on the end of the silver chain.
She held the stone up in the dim light, scrutinizing it; it wasn't cracked or chipped. She held it over the map and repeated the words, louder this time. Although the stone was supposed to swing across the map to reveal the desired location, nothing happened. As her anger began to rise, heat flashed across her skin. She glared up at the sky and took a deep breath to calm down. "Let's try this again."
Taking the stone in hand, she rolled it back and forth until the stone was warm to the touch.
"Finicky thing," she muttered as she held the end of the chain again, the stone dangling over the map. She muttered the words a fourth time and waited, gritting her teeth when nothing happened.
"Geez, what the hell has Bobby done to this thing," she muttered as she smacked the stone against the hood of the truck. "Work dammit!"
She rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she dangled the stone on its chain. "Come on; just pick a damn spot on the damn map already."
Ignoring the ringing phone in her pocket, she closed her eyes and took another deep breath. She needed to concentrate. Being panicky or even impatient could mess up the accuracy of scrying. She whispered the words and waited. This time the stone began to slowly swing back and forth on its silver chain before suddenly landing on a spot on the map. Alice squinted in the dim light. Vermillion. Not an exact address but she could work with that. She folded the map back up and slipped it into her pocket with the stone before heading back to her motorcycle.
Two miles outside of Sioux Falls; her motorcycle stalled, rolling to a slow stop in the middle of the road. Cursing, she pushed her bike to the side of the road and tried to determine what was wrong. Nothing she did made a difference. It was dead. After a half hour of pushing the bike up the interstate, she gave up and considered calling Sam. He could at least get her to Vermillion. She pulled her phone from her pocket and frowned as a small bundle of fabric fell onto the pavement. She turned it over in her hand, trying to see the markings in the dim light. It was the leather bag Bobby had given her when she had arrived at his house, allowing her to come and go unaffected by the new deterrents that protected his house. A modified hex bag, he had said at the time.
"Bobby, you asshole," she spat when she remembered Bobby's threat of using it as a real hex bag if she got in his way. She angrily ripped the bag apart and tossed it on the ground. She crushed the contents with her boot, breaking the small bones before using her lighter to set the pile of on fire. Seething with anger, she called Bobby as she stomped the fire out with her boot.
"Where the hell are you," Bobby snapped into the phone, answering on the first ring.
"A hex bag, Bobby? Is that the best you can do," Alice snarled into the phone before dropping the call and climbing back on her motorcycle.
Vermillion, South Dakota
It was the earlier hours of the morning when Alice finally discovered her destination. Not having an exact address had left her in a lurch so she had turned to the likely source for information. The brightly lit sign of a hand cast an eerie glow over the man she passed as she exited the fortune telling parlor. She wasn't a fan of anyone who could truly read palms; although like so many, this person wasn't truly gifted. She had been just another charlatan with enough knowledge to make her dangerous. A few bills on the table had been enough to get Alice the address of the local demon den. Another two had gotten her their private phone number. Alice wasn't surprised when it rang only once, the typical sounds of a bar filtering through the phone.
"She has an opening at dawn. Don't be late," a smooth, British voice crooned into the phone before hanging up. She slipped her phone back into her pocket and frowned. Either that number was for some prostitute's pimp or Bobby's contact had staff. Somehow, she couldn't imagine Bobby picking up a prostitute; that left the likely possibility that his contact was not acting independently. Normally, that meant taking along back-up, which she wasn't going to do. There wasn't anyone to call, certainly not Bobby or Sam, and Dean…well, Dean wasn't up for anything at the moment. She was on her own, just as she liked.
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Bobby stared across the dark yard, wondering if Alice had found her way to Charlotte yet. There was no doubt she would find her; Alice was resourceful. It hadn't helped that he had provided her the scrying stone, even if he hadn't meant to. He hadn't been sure of what would happen when he enabled the hex bag, but somehow he knew it hadn't been completely effective in stopping her. Not that he wanted to kill Alice; he'd have to settle for slowing her down some. Maybe teach her a lesson, which he doubted she'd bother to learn. She was used to doing things her own way, much like him.
He glanced back at the front door, propped open so he could hear anything if Sam or Dean woke up. He wanted to go after her except that would have meant leaving behind Sam and Dean and neither one was up to fighting off the Fay if they showed up to take Dean. There wasn't anyone close enough to call to help him out. He couldn't ask anyone else to deal with Alice and Charlotte; those two were bound to be a bad combination. As for someone babysitting the boys, no one local would up for fighting a force they had only managed to identify. Besides, if he left the house Sam would most likely fight to come with him. That wasn't going to happen. No, he would just have to wait and see what Alice would come up with. Who knows, maybe she would find something to help Dean after all; but it didn't mean he couldn't be angry as hell about her running off with his stone.
"Damn kids," he muttered as he stared out across the yard. It didn't matter that Alice was by far older than him; her youthful face only made it easier to forget that she should know better than to do something so stupid. Bobby headed for his desk, dropping into the chair as he glanced at the boys. They were still right where they had been a few hours ago. He stared at the upturned drawer with its mangled lock still sitting on top of his desk. He hadn't even needed to see what was missing from the drawer; there was only one thing inside worth anything to Alice. Bobby kicked himself as he began tossing the mess back into the drawer. He had reminded himself a dozen times to move the scrying stone since Sam had found the damn thing but he hadn't gotten around to it. Now it was to late.
He briefly wondered what Alice and Charlotte would make of each other. He knew Charlotte hadn't ever encountered someone like Alice before, not many had. And chances were the same that Alice hadn't ever met anyone like Charlotte either. He considered calling Alice, giving her a heads up about Charlotte's way, but decided against it. Some things just had to be seen for oneself.
Vermillion, South Dakota
Alice sped through the dark, briefly wondering if she had enough cash for this kind of meeting. She cruised into the parking lot, killing the engine as she pulled a wad of cash and a pistol from her duffel bag. There were a dozen or more cars still in the parking lot, but the early morning was quiet as she approached the front door of the rundown building. The dark man standing at the door didn't smile as she walked up, his dark glasses hiding his eyes.
"Haven't seen the likes of you around here before," he mused as his head turned toward her. "Not a demon. Deity? Or something new, perhaps?"
"Not a demon, not a deity, and not new," Alice snapped, wondering if this was a normal part of getting inside the building. She didn't like anyone who could see beyond what she wanted them to see. She had secrets and she meant for them to stay that way. "And you won't see me here again after tonight."
He chuckled. "Don't make a promise you won't be able to keep."
Alice frowned and reached for the door, stepping back as he moved in her way.
"You're not ancient," he ground out, removing the dark glasses covering his white eyes. "You're older than some, sure; but a youngster compared to others, with a new face too. Are there are others like you?"
"No," she snapped as she held out the cash. "Just me."
"No cash. Not from you," the man said with a frown as he cocked his head, his pearl colored eyes staring into her. "Your way inside is paid in full. As for getting what you came for, let's see if you and Charlotte can settle on a fair price."
Alice frowned at his words and pulled the door open as he moved to the side. "Oh, and little girl….that pistol you're carrying won't help you any once you're inside. Use it and you'll never walk out of here," he said quietly as she slipped past him.
Her frown deepened at the sight of the building's interior; for having so many cars outside, no one, not even the bartender, was in sight. She headed for the door on the back wall, a small bit of light peaking around the edges. Opening the door and slipping inside, Alice was reminded how much she disliked hippies and psychics. Burned incense hung heavy in the air, the smoke making it hard to see across the room. She dropped into the chair and waited. Someone had put on quite the show, trying to scare her.
She looked at the clock on the wall and set her cash on the low table in front of her before cocking the pistol and setting in next to the cash. "You've got until the count of ten before I walk out of here and burn this shithole to the ground," Alice called out. She hated waiting.
A small lamp on the table flickered to life, illuminating a woman sitting across the table from Alice. "Patience is a virtue," Charlotte crooned, her dark eyes settling on Alice, curiosity crossing her face. "But by the looks of you, you have all the time in the world."
"And lost time is never found. We going to swap one liner's all day or get down to business," Alice retorted, ignoring the rest of her comment. If Charlotte didn't know what she was, she wanted to keep it that way. "Either you can help me or you're wasting my time. Which is it going to be?"
Charlotte stared at Alice, her smile fading slightly. "For someone with as much time as you have, you seem to be in a rush," Charlotte mused, her vision seemingly going right through Alice. "I'd almost guess you're rushing for a reason. Trying to save someone maybe? Someone with far less time than you?"
"I'm here for information. Now, you can name a price or I can—"
Charlotte silenced her with a wave of her hand. "You're something new…but not new all the same. Seen Mother Eve, lately?"
Alice frowned at the reference. She remembered it being nothing she wanted to mess with. Any mentions of a Mother or Eve were unwelcome. "No, and if you ask again what I am, I'll make sure I'm the last thing you see. You can take your questions to a shallow grave."
Charlotte shrugged carelessly. "Have it your way, I was just trying to find some ground to negotiate on. I always like to know what I'm dealing with before striking a deal."
"I've got cash."
"Cash has been out of style for some time now," Charlotte said as she motioned to the cash next to the pistol. "Who gave you my name?"
"Bobby Singer," Alice said, watching the woman carefully.
A knowing grin passed over the woman's face before she nodded. "Bobby does like to pay his debts. So, what kind of deal can I interest you in?"
"Deal?"
"Yes, a deal," Charlotte replied as she gazed at Alice. "That's why people come here. To make deals. I don't do freebies. You want something from me, we make a deal for it."
"And what kind of deal did Bobby's make," Alice asked.
"Oh, I never kiss and tell. But it wasn't a high price, not enough for what he wanted. I made something of a discount for him. We're old friends you see, we go way back," Charlotte said through a thin smile. "What kind of deal are you looking for?"
Alice hesitated. She wasn't sure just how far she'd get before she'd have to negotiate payment. And she still wasn't sure of what exactly she wanted from Charlotte. "Information, mostly. Maybe more," she stated. "Anything more will depend on what kind of information you can get me."
"Very mysterious," Charlotte said coolly, her smile barely covering her eagerness. "And what kind of information are you looking for? Need to end a lover's quarrel? Make a husband disappear? Or maybe—"
"Or maybe you can keep the sinister romances for the desperate housewives," Alice snapped with a roll of her eyes. She hated idle chit chat. "I need information about a deal going down between the King of Hell and the Fay. Nothing more, nothing less."
Even though her smile widened, Charlotte's voice faltered. "The King of Hell? That's quite a tall order from someone I've just met…. Expensive too."
"And just what do you take in payment? Shells? Beads? Flesh and blood," Alice asked sarcastically as she folded her arms over her chest. "Souls, maybe?"
Charlotte laughed, the room suddenly seeming colder and darker. "Look around you. This isn't some dusty old crossroads," Charlotte replied as her hand swept across the room. "I'm no demon."
"But you do work for one, don't you," crooned a voice from behind Alice. It was British, smooth, and almost icy in tone. "Or have you forgotten about your own deal, Charlotte?"
Alice didn't turn around, her eyes glued on Charlotte who had suddenly become solemn and quiet in her seat across the table. Even as Charlotte tried to remain passive to the intruder, Alice didn't miss the fear that crossed her face before she settled further into her chair.
"You might find it hard to collect a soul from this one," he said to Charlotte as he stepped next to Alice, gesturing at her without looking at her. He turned and looked down at Alice, amusement on his face. "You can't give away what you don't have the rights for. Isn't that right?"
Alice didn't respond as she kept her eyes on Charlotte. "Name your price."
"It appears you're going to get a rare chance to negotiate with the King himself," Charlotte said as she jumped from her chair and moved to the corner of the room, her eyes downcast.
The man moved to sit down, adjusting his suit jacket as he did. "Any friend of Bobby's is a friend of mine," he said with an amused smile. "So I hear you have an interest in my business with the Fay."
Alice's eyes narrowed as he sat down. She had always avoided any direct contact with Crowley when she needed something. This wasn't going according to her plan. She needed to find out details of the Fay's tithe without Crowley finding out that Dean was part of the deal. This kind of unforeseen hiccup could ruin everything. Or at least send Bobby into a daylong rant about her messing things up.
But on the other hand…Bobby had suggested calling Crowley up and flat out asking him about the tithe. She eyed the man sitting across from her before adjusted herself in the chair and shrugging off her hesitation. She could handle this.
"I have a few questions about the fine print of your deal," Alice stated, leaning back into the chair, appearing relaxed. She knew how this went. Whoever could power play the best would leave with what they wanted. "I want to read the contract, in full."
"Well, sweetheart, that is privileged information," he said. "Maybe you tell me what you already know about my deal with the Fay and I'll see about filling in the gaps."
Alice didn't take the bait. Information wasn't free, even for the King of Hell. Everything had a price.
"First we negotiate a price," Alice said firmly.
"Just like Bobby," Crowley stated. "Always down to business, never any small talk. That's no way to develop a good business relationship, now is it?"
"This isn't a business relationship that needs developing. This is just business. A one-time thing."
"A pity." Crowley leaned across the table. "So, down to business then. What can you offer as payment? As Charlotte explained, cash isn't good enough. Not for this kind of deal. And your soul, well, that's not even an option; is it?"
Alice knew what it would take. It was the only thing of value she could offer right about now. "A trade. Information for information."
"I am the bloody King of bloody Hell. Anything I want to know, I simply find out."
"I doubt that," Alice retorted.
He thought for a minute before signaling Charlotte to leave the room. "And the terms of our exchange?"
"I get to read the contract. Not a copy, but the original," Alice said, folding her arms over her chest. "Or I leave now."
"And what do I get out of this deal? What information do you have that I could possibly want?"
Alice considered her options. "What I know about the Fay deal."
Crowley shook his head in amusement. "Doesn't matter what you know about the Fay deal. They'll pay on time, or they won't. But here's the thing. I'm curious. Charlotte was right. We've not seen the likes of your kind in here before. So, what are you?"
Alice didn't reply.
"Maybe you're a double agent for the Fay? A messenger from Eve? A deity who's been asleep to long? Or maybe a hunter who's gone a little to far into the darkness?"
Alice stiffened at the comment. "No. Human."
"You were. But not anymore." Crowley snapped his fingers, a well-dressed man instantly appearing beside him. Alice spotted the roll of parchment in his hand; undoubtedly it was the contract she needed.
She decided to take a different approach. "I take it you're aware that the Fay are having trouble getting their last man."
Crowley adjusted his suit jacket. He didn't care if the Fay couldn't find the last man. He wanted a Fay in the bargain, not simply another man. Men he could find. Fay were scarce. "And?"
"I know who it is."
"And why would it matter to me? They'll find him, add him to the others, and I'll find out soon enough anyhow."
"So then, if not the name of the last man, what can I offer you in trade," Alice asked.
"It's simple. I want to know who holds the contract on your soul," he said as he leaned forward in his chair, staring at her. "I can see it in there, bright and bruised around the edges, but someone else holds ownership of it. Very unusual. I want to know who is edging into my territory. Who is it?"
"Is there any way to stop the Fay from making payment to you," Alice demanded, ignoring his question.
"No. It's binding. They don't pay and there are consequences. That's what makes it a bloody contract," Crowley spat. "Now, why are you so interested in the contract with the Fay?"
"I know someone they want," Alice stated, wondering how much detail she could omit before Crowley would catch on.
"Ah, the last man you mentioned," Crowley stated with a nod. "Care to tell me who it is?"
"No, not if I don't have to," Alice said as she stood from the table. "And if you don't want to give me that scroll, you're wasting my time."
Crowley let her get all the way to the door before he said, "You tell me who holds ownership of your soul and I'll let you read my contract with the Fay."
Alice turned on her heel and stared at the scroll in his hand, considering her options. More importantly, Dean's options. "And I want you to tell me how we get them to take someone else."
Crowley laughed. "You don't. One thing about the Fay, they have excellent taste when it comes to selecting souls. When they want someone, they take them."
Alice frowned at his words. "Fine. Give me the contract."
Crowley smirked and placed the parchment in her hand. "And now for your part of our deal. Who holds a contract on your soul?"
The words were bitter on her tongue. "Bobby Singer," she said, feeling her face get and her stomach turn. Only she and Bobby had been left knowing the truth, John had taken their secret to his grave; now she'd have to contend with Crowley knowing as well. Alice knew she'd end up regretting the price she had paid.
"Looks like I underestimated him," Crowley stated, even though his face didn't betray his thoughts. He would do some digging of his own.
Alice turned and headed for the door, the scroll tightly gripped in her hand. She wanted to burn the place to the ground. She felt dirty.
"The deal was for you to read the contract, not take it," Crowley called after her, not moving from his chair.
"I said I'd read it, I didn't say when or where I'd read it," she called out as she left without a backwards glance. "It's called a loophole. I'm sure you know all about them."
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Back at the house, Bobby was tearing through his contacts looking for anyone who was close enough to help out. Alice wasn't answering her phone; he couldn't even be sure she was still alive. Not everyone who visited Charlotte returned home. Garth and Marty were too far out and Jim Walsh was helping with another Wendigo case in South Carolina. His hands froze as he turned another page, a soft sound catching his ears. He glanced toward the boys; they were still asleep. A floorboard creaked overhead before silence took over the house again. He turned another page before hearing the sound again. The overhead light flickered once as he reached for his shotgun.
Either their Fay repellents hadn't worked or something else was in the house. Bobby moved to Sam and shook him awake, motioning for him to be quiet.
"Bobby, what's wrong," Sam whispered as he took the pistol Bobby held out.
"Something's moving upstairs," Bobby whispered back as he motioned toward Dean. "Watch him."
Sam climbed to his feet and moved to protect Dean while Bobby crept through the hallway toward the stairs. Another sound caught Bobby's attention, this time at the top of the stairs. It was the familiar sound of someone clearing their throat.
Bobby lowered his gun and flipped on the stairway light. Crowley stood at the top of the stairs, lightly brushing dust off his jacket. "Is there any place in this dump not falling apart?"
"How the hell did you get in here," Bobby snapped.
"King of Hell, remember," Crowley stated as he leaned against the railing. "I don't know who you've pissed off this time, but the whole place stinks of weeds."
"What do you want," Bobby ground out. If Crowley decided to come downstairs he'd find Dean. If the smell of the herbs hadn't completely given away their predicament, the ribbons and bells tied to Dean might. Surely Crowley knew enough about the Fay to recognize when someone was trying to keep them away.
"Where is she," Crowley asked as he adjusted his suit jacket and brushed some dust from the cuff. He'd have to have it dry cleaned now.
"Who," Bobby asked. Maybe Crowley wasn't here Dean or the Fay after all.
"A woman with red hair, drives a motorcycle, and curiously enough seems to be missing the rights to her soul," Crowley mused aloud as he stared to Bobby. "Any thoughts on where I can find such a person?"
Bobby was almost relieved. If Crowley was looking for Alice, she had walked out of her meeting with Charlotte. "Not a clue. I haven't seen her in a while."
"She tried to strike a bargain with Charlotte earlier this morning," Crowley explained. "Luckily, I was around to negotiate the terms of the deal."
Bobby didn't say anything; his eyes narrowing at Crowley's words.
"She's unusual. Given her circumstances, I'd bet a hundred souls you've gone out of your way to keep her out of sight," Crowley muttered as he began a slow walk down the stairs. "Now, I think a little chat is in order. Did you think I wouldn't find out about some hunter taking the rights to a soul? Whatever happened to professional courtesy?"
Sam slowly stepped up beside Bobby. He didn't know what was going on, but he wanted to hear what was going on.
"What did Alice want from Charlotte," Sam asked.
"She tried to strike a bargain but came up a little short," Crowley said, his eyes locked on Bobby's. "Care to explain how a hunter such as yourself—"
"Sam, go check your brother," Bobby ground out. He was getting an idea of what Crowley wanted to talk about and the fewer people who knew about it, the better.
Sam shuffled his feet, obviously curious about what was going on.
"Sam! I said to check on Dean," Bobby snapped, glaring at Sam.
Sam shuffled out of sight but not before muttering, "She should be back by now."
"Where is she," Bobby snapped.
Crowley shrugged carelessly as he reached the bottom step. "She bargained for a chance to read the Fay contract. Now she's run off with it."
"And the King of Hell can't find her?"
"Oh I intend to find her. She'll be here soon, no doubt. Now, this deal happens only so often and I have never had this much chatter about a simple Fay payment which makes me wonder… with the deadline so soon, I'm going to assume there is something valuable at stake," Crowley mused as he brushed past Bobby. "Or maybe I'm wrong and it's not something—but someone."
Okay, so it's moving slower. Sorry. I've been dreading sorting out the end, mostly because there are sooooo many ways to solve their problem once we figure out who gets to take the trip to Hell. Should Dean go and be tallied with the rest? Or should a Fay go and end up giving Crowley the base ingredient for a new First Demon? Hmmmmmm…..The possibilities are full of curiously delicious problems.