Chapter 12: Freshly-Scented Search

I know that I should have remembered the secret lair thing a lot earlier, but a girl's gotta shove all of her pasts down and away as far as possible if she wants to continue being a thief. Crowley seemed pretty calm with the news which was a tad confusing but I just thought whatever and shrugged it off. He called me and told me that Clarence was having a bit of an alcoholic dilemma—really surprised me 'cause I never expected him to even take a sip of alcohol, let alone get drunk—and that we would have to go back to the former hideout to investigate later on that day.

I figure you all have questions for me about what it was like and what exactly happened and what Bela did to make Lucifer get mad at me, right? Well, that's not happening, short stuff. If I'm not going to get into detail about it to a thief and a cop, what makes you think I'd go and tell you? All you need to know is that Bela got me in that adorable little club for thieves, and she got me out of it.

You just need to know that she's the reason for basically everyone's misfortune in these parts and that we all want nothing to do with her. Yeah, we're thieves. I get it. But listen to me when I say that we don't hurt people and we don't take lives like Bela has done. We don't—we don't betray our friends, which are always just one or two because you can't trust more than just that. I never had friends, but seems like Laurel and Hardy over here are the closest I can get to that. I'm rambling now, though, so let's get back to the story, now shall we?

It took only a few hours until Crowley called me and stated that Cas was ready to go. I asked who was the one determining that, because I figured that there was no way we would go searching that day.

"I would say to wait a bit longer, but Cassie-dear isn't taking no for an answer," Crowley answered a bit quietly, but I heard Clarence's voice in the background, shouting "I told you I'm feeling one-hundred percent better!"

"Better listen to him, Crowley. He's a cop and a fierce one, at that."

Silence.

"Oh, c'mon Crowley—don't think that I didn't notice his observation skills. His mannerisms; everything! Not to mention that I remembered seeing his face before in a cop uniform," I added when still nothing was said after a few more moments.

"… Right… All right, so how are we meeting up? Are we taking my car again so you won't be paranoid about someone lurking about and recognizing your car?—and another thing: why didn't you get yourself a new car or license plate?" Boy, he's quite the inquisitive type, isn't he? Is that why Clarence hangs around him—because Crowley asks as many questions as the average cop?

"Because, bozo," I finally replied with a slightly annoyed tone, "Don't you know how expensive it is to switch your name to another car? I might as well just turn myself into the police than attempt to do that. Too much money." I tapped my fingers against my thigh impatiently and continued speaking before Crowley could say anything else. "So are we going or not? I'll text you my address and you and hangover-boy over there can come get me. Oh, and don't worry—me knowing who Cas is won't change a single thing. I still have one goal and that's to give Bela what she deserves."

xxx

We were in our motel room and attempting to find more information on anything we could: the Thief of Hell, Bela, the burglary of the museum… but nothin' was coming of it. Sammy was sitting at his laptop, staring at the screen blankly as he tried thinking of something else he could look up, but I could tell that there was nothing coming to mind. We ended up pulling an all-nighter the day before in an attempt to investigate more, but we'd been hitting dead ends nonstop that we were starting to get a bit discouraged. It was a few more moments of silence too much for me, so I decided to speak up.

"We've sorta hit a dead end again, Sammy," I observed out loud. Wasn't really something that could help us advance in our files, but I couldn't think of somethin' else to say.

"I know," he replied with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Do you think we should call Castiel and see what's going on with him? Maybe he was able to do some of his spy stuff while we've been sitting here like idiots."

"Possibly, but we did tell him to let us know of anything as soon as he found something. We could still try, I s'pose." I stood up from my bed and walked over to pick up my cell from the table close to the door. Scrolling through my contacts, I found Cas' name and started dialing. It rang for a bit longer than I would have liked; I was expecting to reach a voicemail, but he probably picked it up at the last ring.

"Hello?" His voice was rougher than usual, I noted, and he sounded a bit disoriented. Almost as if he were…

"You gettin' over your hangover, Cas?" I asked almost seriously, but a chuckle escaped my lips faster than I could contain it. We all have been in that boat—and the night before did end in the man getting a bit too much. I figured that by now he would be all right, though.

"Um… Yeah," he responded, and now I could tell that he was more so trying to speak softly than getting over the feelings of a hangover.

"I was calling to see how your time with Mr. Crowley was going—you with him right now?" I asked, an eyebrow cocking up as I then heard shuffling and distant talking in the background.

"This couldn't have been the worst of timing. Can't you text me or something?" Castiel sounded annoyed. Annoyed. That was a bit of a shocker, and it sorta made me bite the inside of my cheek, trying to keep the annoyance from getting to me as well.

"I'll take that as a yes to my question," I retorted dryly, eyes trailing over to Sam, who was resting his elbows on his knees and looking at me questioningly. I put up a finger for him to wait and then moved my eyes to focus on the bed in front of me. "Keep us updated if you find out anything. Even if it's the slightest suspicious, okay?" When he didn't reply, I cleared my throat slightly and repeated myself. "Okay?"

"All right. I'll contact you if I find something even the slightest suspicious—" That was when I heard a voice in the background calling to him—Cassie? I think I heard—before Castiel finished speaking quickly. "I gotta go now. Text me next time. Bye."

And then that fucker hung up.

"So?" Sam asked inquisitively. I could sense the anticipation emanating from him. He could probably sense that there was no news for now, but my lil' brother is always hopeful.

"No dice," I muttered and threw my cell at the bed in front of me before I flopped on it myself, facing my brother with arms crossed over my chest. "Not yet, anyway. He is with Crowley right now, though. He's going to let us know if there's anything weird happening."

Sam nodded and crossed his arms as well, looking to the ground thoughtfully before nodding again and clearing his throat. "Well, looks like we have time to spend while we wait. A break or something."

"Want to get some grub?" I asked with a smile when I saw Sam laugh slightly as my thoughts went straight to food.

"Yeah, okay. Let's go."

xxx

"Cassie?"

"I gotta go now. Text me next time. Bye," I muttered lowly and hung up the phone as quickly as possible. I turned around to smile over at Crowley, who was waiting by the door. We were going to pick up Meg so we could check out that lair she had forgotten about. "Sorry, it was a call from work."

Crowley frowned from slight worry and asked if everything was all right. I said yes—they wanted to see if there was anything new from the case. He nodded slowly, though the crease in his forehead was still visible when he turned around to walk out. He held the door open for me and I walked through but a hand was then rested on my shoulder to stop me from moving.

"Cassie, I just realized how you stink of alcohol. Let's go get you something clean-scented, yes?" He smiled at me and steered me back inside before I could protest. While he walked into his room, I called out to him and said Meg was be waiting and would most likely be annoyed if we took too long, but he took no notice to my words. Sticking his head out from the doorway, Crowley smiled with his mouth closed and chucked the clothes he picked out at my face. I almost caught them, but they mostly hit me hard in the nose, causing a grunt to escape from my lips and for him to laugh.

I sighed slightly, though I couldn't help but smile myself. "You sure these are going to fit?" I asked, looking over the clothing he tossed me.

"Yes, I am sure. Now go ahead and put them on. Here," he paused and walked out of the room to lean against the couch, "Go ahead and change in my room. I will wait out here. Don't take too long, darling!" He patted me on the shoulder as he walked passed me and over to the doorway where he would wait. Arms crossed over his chest and he raised his eyebrows when he noticed I followed him with my eyes and didn't head into the bedroom. "Go on, then. We don't want Meg getting annoyed at us, now do we?"

I nodded quickly and headed off into the room, closing the door behind me. That was when I noticed that the room smelled nice—wasn't sure what the scent was, exactly, but it reminded me of blackberries but also scotch. I shrugged my shoulders slightly and then took a quick look around the room before I would change into the black clothes that were thrown at my face earlier. The room definitely reflected Crowley's personality—neat and proper with sheets tucked at every edge and smoothed out perfectly along with multiple, fluffy pillows atop with some rose petals across the sheets. A bit over-the-top, I mused, though it was Crowley's bedroom that I was looking at. Nothing was out of place: books were all organized along the bookshelf and no clothes were seen on the floor. The carpet and walls were a nice deep, blood red while the bed was mostly made up of black along with some red pillows and most possibly a red undersheet. When I realized that I was overanalyzing the bedroom of a thief who I now call my friend, I snapped myself out of it and shrugged off my alcohol-smelling clothes to put on the freshly-scented ones that Crowley gave me. It was just a black undershirt with a simple, black overcoat, black pants and a red tie. He was certainly trying his hardest to get me into his fashion style, even if just unconsciously.

Once finished, I walked out with my dirty clothes at hand and could see the smug smile of triumph on Crowley's face. "This feels a bit odd. Not really what's in my wardrobe," I muttered as he opened the door for me again.

"Yes, but it suits you very well, love," he replied, the smile still splayed across his face. "All right, Cassie, let's head on over to Meg before she blows up the world from impatience."