Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.
Crowley hadn't expected this. Sam's latest demand made court...almost bearable. Oh, he was still surrounded by droning idiots, when it wasn't whiny idiots. Neither category was his ideal companion for a few hours. But knowing that he could be listened into at any time...
If he concentrated, he could almost pretend he did have Moose at his side, judging the lot. Undoubtedly harshly, too. As gentle as the boy could be, Crowley knew he wouldn't suffer fools. At least not ones he wasn't related to.
Good thing that focusing on anything except what was actually going on had always been his M.O. when audiences stretched past his (minuscule almost to the point of non-existence) patience.
He was never going to show off the younger Winchester as his consort in one of these meetings. (Well, probably. One really never knew with the Winchesters, but aiming too high was how you overshot and lost anything you could have had in the first place). That didn't mean he couldn't imagine it.
"...Majesty?" Wait, was someone actually talking to him? Well, of course they were, but - they didn't expect him to listen, did they?
"...Your Majesty?" They really were. What the hell? They should have known better.
"What?" It came out maybe more barked than he intended, but he wasn't going to regret it.
"I...er, um..." Oh no, now they were actively wasting his time. "I asked if...if you were pleased, Your Majesty. With my, well, results."
What results? He would get a summary from Guthrie later, obviously, with the actually relevant data highlighted. But just because he sat here, they really thought he was listening and paying close enough attention to form an opinion... The demons truly didn't bother knowing him. That was why most of them were subpar anyway. How could they be effective when they didn't even understand someone they saw so often?
"Do I look pleased, you gnat?" he growled.
"N...not right now, no, but you, huh, were smiling, Sire, so." The pathetic thing (Crowley wouldn't know his name if he wore a tag) was clearly remembering the last time his king had been profoundly displeased. Would a foolish word get him quartered? ... Crowley hadn't decided yet.
"So you took it upon yourself to interrupt any pleasant ruminations I was indulging in, because you assumed you had my full attention. Quite an overestimation of your importance, and of that of your job. Which is, again?"
"I work at the crossroads, Your Majesty. Like..." The thready voice waned before the demon could openly insinuate some sort of kinship between them.
Still, that was going way too far. "Take him out of my sight. All he's good for is clearly training."
"Other demons in the art of the deal?" The idiot had the gall to squeak.
"Puppies."
Almost a week (by hell time, so...probably a hour or so topside) he got a text from Sam. Thankfully while he was in private, so he could smile all he wanted at seeing the name pop up on his phone and nobody would have to be tortured for it. Not that he minded, personally, but it was never a certainty what would upset Moose. Unlike too many hunters, whose understanding of the world was depressingly black and white, his favorite was all too aware of possible nuances. And moody enough (though that was part of his charm) that presuming to know how he would react at any given situation was a dangerous level of hubris.
- First of all, I am well aware it's not my place. Not my job and not one I'd ever be interested in contributing to in any capacity.
Crowley replied immediately. - Well, that's a lot of words to say "I'm about to stick my nose where it doesn't belong anyway."
-Just saying, you might want to pick different punishments when someone annoys you, unless you've already binned your pet project. You aren't exactly helping your case.
- I'm slightly confused. And not busy at the moment. Maybe we could clear this up in person?
-If you want. We're at the bunker.
Just like that. The boys weren't on a case, and he was welcome for a chat. More importantly, Sam, uninterested as he claimed to be, had just tried to intervene in the way he ruled. Another demon might be furious, but Crowley couldn't curb the thrill running through him. One, it confirmed that Moose spent his free time "spying" back, keen - or possibly concerned - about the demon enough to make use of what he'd been given. But more than that, it suddenly made his pipedream of a consort feel almost attainable. It was Sam who couldn't help but get involved in hell's oversight. Some residual boyking instinct, perhaps? (Not that he would say as much to the boy, he didn't fancy being attacked.)
He knocked (no summoning meant he couldn't bypass the bunker's protections). and to his surprise, it was Dean who opened the door. "Was going out anyway," the man grumbled. Crowley took a step aside to let him pass, but Squirrel loitered one last second to yell, "Remember, Sam!"
"Yeah, yeah!" Moose reassured, and Dean rushed past him, finally letting him in.
"What was that about?" he couldn't help but ask.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't. Only he has forgotten one little detail: he's shit at erasing his internet history." Sam's smirk needed to be kissed away, and when Crowley decided to provide, there was no protest. He might not have earned his good standing entirely back yet, but it was his lucky day. Even if it was just rebellion against big brother's overbearing attitude, he'd take it.
"I didn't know I still had a case to make," he admitted, when they parted. "Not until I was fully forgiven, at least. I am flattered that you truly listened in. But I thought you'd be looking for reasons to enhance your annoyance, and be all too happy if you found any."
"And were you trying to provide, as ever? Happy customers are good, even if they're happy to hate you?" Sam's eyebrow rose.
"You're not a customer, though. Unless you plan to change the situation. I mean, that'd definitely be something Squirrel would do, too." Crowley shrugged.
"Don't remind me. And of course not. I don't need you." The bitchface was on the high end of that scale.
"Which is why I appreciate you so much. Need is no decent base for a relationship. It drowns out want, and the whole thing starts reeking of desperation. As much as I appreciate that in a toy, you and I? That's different. Tastier."
Sam shook his head. "You said I was confusing? And you? Should I worry about attempts at cannibalism on your part?"
"Not unless you've developed kinks that would, frankly, highly surprise me." Crowley grinned." But let's discuss what we're here for. What punishments should I start to avoid? And what's the pet project you referred to?"
"You don't even know the project?" Sam seemed honestly confused.
"I juggle so many. I'm sure you've heard never put all your eggs in one basket." It was a platitude, really. So why did Sam suddenly glare at him?
"Is that so? In how many fields do you swear by that?"
"Pretty much all of them, and I suggest you do too. Always the wisest option. "
"Relationships too?"
Uh, so there was the boy's problem. "You know, it's hilarious. We've barely done anything, you didn't even know what our...thing was all too recently for my taste, and you're actually getting jealous on me?"
Sam looked down on him, literally and metaphorically. "Of course I'm not. I just want to know what sort of situation I've entered."
Crowley snorted. "You haven't entered anything, that's your problem." The bitchface he expected, but if Moose didn't want to hear these things, he shouldn't set up the joke for him. "Anyway, you got lucky. I'm normally very much a fan of open relationships, the more the merrier. But lately I've been busy the not fun way, and you would know. If you want to be exclusive, it's not a dealbreaker for me. But you have to be clear on these details, not assume and then act all offended." How did they get to the point where the king of hell had to teach people about the proper way to behave in a relationship? It was weird.
"Are you really lecturing me?" Sam seemed to share the sentiment, from his tone.
Crowley shrugged. "What, is that strictly a family privilege? Just telling it like it is. Try adding some clarity to your life; you might find it works for you as brilliantly as it has always helped me."
"Clarity helped you, huh? Not like you might ever have omitted the exact clauses of a contract or let people assume the wrong thing?"
"The clauses are right there, in black and white. If we consider different ones important or if someone trusts my summary of the transaction, is it my fault? They know I'm a demon." They should know better. It wasn't his fault if they were that stupid...or in some cases, that desperate.
Sam actually grabbed...was that an old receipt? He turned it over, and took up a pen. "Want it all in black and white? Fine, let's spell it out."
Crowley chuckled. "I didn't think our relationship needed a literal contract. but far be it from me to dissuade you." Though, didn't it feel like a risky move to Moose?
"Oh, it's not a contract. Just a reminder of the house rules."
Crowley would have laughed at the idea that he'd be bound by any rules, especially whatever Moose decided to cook up on a whim. But doing so would have interrupted him, and he really wanted to know what the man would come up with.
"Number 1,yes, we're either exclusive or nothing. I've shared most things in my life, but I don't share my partners."
"1 comma b, I've earned your bed. I know, I know, you are still annoyed at me...but I'm no monk, Moose. We can go in detail about an acceptable amount if you want, or leave it up to our respective desires. I'm sure we can find alternative ways for you to make your frustration with me known - and make me regret it as much as you wish." It was a bet, but one he thought he could win.
Sam hesitated for a moment, fingers curling, and Crowley wondered if he was about to ball up that slip of paper and his hopes at the same time. But then Moose exhaled slowly, and conceded, "Fair. And yes, we're not defining...that in any greater detail than mutual satisfaction. This isn't a prenuptial agreement."
Yet, Crowley thought. Or ever, most probably, but - he'd come so far. A demon could dream. Instead, he grinned and replied, "You have a way with words when you want to."
"Number two, you and all your associates stay out of our cases unless requested by one of us. For your own sake, mind."
The demon shrugged, "And yet, here you are, trying to meddle with the way I rule...and by the way, since we got sidetracked - not that I don't love this - you never managed to tell me in plain English what your issue even was."
"If you really want to ever persuade Dean, maybe don't sentence anyone to be hound chow. Plain enough?" The bitchface accompanying the words was no surprise.
"Crystal. But I didn't know that your brother had a chance to peek at my activities, too."
Sam had the decency to look embarrassed. "I know, I should have used earphones. I was in my room, but it's not like Dean doesn't have a history of not knocking when an idea takes him. Murphy's law that he popped in exactly then."
"Saying you should have known better is not much of a defense, Moose."
"I wasn't trying to defend myself. I was just hoping, since you were still half on the hook, that my indiscretion could be forgiven in exchange for cleaning your slate entirely." A smile, dimples and all, and Sam knew anyone would have a damn hard time denying him anything he asked.
This time, Crowley laughed. "Fine. You know, you'd make a fine negotiator, in any field you choose." Not that he'd ever put his consort to work, even if every pipedream of his came true. He wasn't going to send him around kissing anyone else.
Even assuming Moose suddenly became much more casual about his own affections. Which Crowley didn't actually wish for. Yes, this would definitely be a much different relationship than any he'd entertained since he left humanity behind. But the occasional change kept life interesting. Besides, he'd see soon if Sam was capable of keeping him satisfied all on his lonesome. Ruby had never boasted, more's the pity, but Crowley had long since become a keen judge of people.
"Thanks, but it was never going to be my career anyway. Number 3 and last: be very detailed yourself about what you want. It didn't occurr to me that Dean overhearing anything would be a problem, to be honest."
That was a surprise. He thought the rules would be all of the don't kind. The demon smirked. "Of course it didn't." There were days Sam probably wasn't entirely sure that he and his brother counted as two people. "That I can definitely do. Promise."