Over the expensive oak of his desk Midnite graced them with his cheshire grin, but John was having trouble being intimidated by someone who needed a heavy desk to support the weight of his many rings.

How much did he need this guys opinion?

How did he come to be here?

Was it really so bad being bored?

He felt cold. Without the requisite body heat the deep reds of the place failed to create any sense of warmth, failed to arouse. In daylight Midnite's was just another business, neutral and uncaring, as long as it got what it wanted. That's why it was named after Midnite.

The door to the office closed on them with an echoing bang. Across the room Chas either didn't realise that he was standing next to the door which housed Midnite's most valuable artefacts or he didn't care. Midnite's voice resounded in the small space. 'A most unusual situation, even for myself. Even for you, John.'

John, who hated being called that by anyone who wasn't Chas, shrugged.

'My speciality lies more in Fucked Up than Unusual.'

'I think this meets both requirements. I must say it saddens my heart to see friend turn on friend.'

Chas shot a sideways glance at John, who saw because he was doing the same.

'Can I interest you in a drink? On the house of course.'

'I'd rather get to business.'

Again Midnite smiled like a cat, his eyes briefly settling on Chas. 'Yes, business. I find in business it is prudent to know where you stand.'

John noted that they hadn't been offered seats.

'John, if you would indulge us.'

John shrugged. 'When I came home last night this was waiting for me. Thought you could help.'

'Your own senses don't give you what you need?'

'..He's difficult to get a handle on.'

Fucking. Word.

'As fortune would have it, I specialise in The Difficult, much as you specialise in The Fucked.'

'I'm standing right here guys', said Chas.

Now? Now he speaks up?

As they'd waited to be seen, Chas had spoken only once to say that Angela was nice, and didn't elaborate and John didn't ask.

'And I believe,' continued Midnite, 'Some good can always be salvaged, no matter how dark the situation. Don't you agree?'

John didn't agree. John would find another ruined shirt preferable to how much Midnite was fucking loving this.

When no one answered, Midnite gestured to Chas like he was an exhibit, 'As I see it, we have here three possibilities: An angel; a demon, in disguise as your friend; or a demon, in disguise as your friend.'

'That's only two,' said Chas, but Midnite was addressing John exclusively.

'Either an unidentified demon has taken your friends form to trick you, or what was your friend is now a demon.'

'And how do we find out which?'

Midnite smiled at John, but his smile was no warmer than the clubs décor.

'We can't do much. I will gladly take it from here,' it being Chas, 'and report back in due course.'

'No I don't think so.'

'John, since this clearly involves you, you are of course allowed some trepidation. But you are capable of being a reasonable man; you must see you are of limited use here.'

'First of all, fuck you–'

'You've already admitted defeat.'

'I never said that.'

'You tell me you don't know whether a soul such as his, dying in sacrifice, could return for the side of good. Who are you to say what he is when you don't even know what he was?'

'I'm not the one who called him a treasure.'

Chas mouthed, 'Treasure?', as though The Difficult or The Fucked suddenly looked like less disparaging nicknames.

'Constantine, we will gain more by your absence than your presence. You interfere with him.'

'Bullshit.'

This overuse of John's name, the refusal to address Chas.. Midnite's lack of interest in Chas was carefully designed to underplay his cards. He hoped Chas' lack of interest in the club wasn't the same. The kid had been clever, but never calculating.

John suddenly felt like an idiot. He had knowingly walked into Midnite's under the illusion that he owned Chas in some way, that he was leverage.

It was then he realised that Chas had stopped paying attention to either of them, his eyes turning sharply and a shudder running through him.

'Chas..' He said carefully, sincerely.

He saw Chas' eyes dart around uncertainly, like he'd eaten too much licorice.

He smiled like he was nervous, like he was Chas.

What were they doing here?

'Midnite if you insist on conducting yourself in such an aggressive manner we'll take our business elsewhere.'

'No,' said Chas abruptly. 'I want to stay.'

If nothing else could convince him that this was Chas, that did a pretty good job.

'Something is off here, and I want to know what he's hiding.' He was looking straight at Midnite, a glint in his dark eyes that was nothing angelic, but something rebellious.

'Why do you want him to leave?' Asked Chas of Midnite.

'Why do you wish to stay?' Asked Midnite of John.

'Chas we're leaving.'

'John–'

'You force my hand Constantine.'

Midnite glanced at the door they had entered through. John knew with sickening certainty that it was not one they'd be leaving by.

By bringing Chas here he had trapped them both.

John grabbed Chas roughly by the wrist, ignoring his protests.

'John we can't, John trust me please–'

He gathered what twisted energy he had left–

'Chas it isn't safe.'

'It's not us I'm worried about!'

–and forced down the side door leading deep into the belly of Midnite's.

Midnite yelled. As John slammed the door suddenly Chas grew heavy and fell from his grasp, John grabbed a heavy looking relic from beside the door frame, faltering without Chas' help as he wedged it under the handle–

But nothing came from the other side of the door. In the silence he imagined Midnite's fury ebbing as he realised he no longer needed to expend the energy to keep them trapped. In fact, John was counting on it.

Let me be right about this.

He stepped back from the door, hoping he hadn't just sealed his own tomb, and turned to see Chas lying very still next to the prone form of Angela Dodson.

A/N: Thank you for your time, I'd love to hear what you think so review or PM me to let me know what's working for you and what isn't. I'm going to torture myself with this no matter what; you may as well get something out of it worth reading!