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"I mean he ate every part. Blood, organs, hair- grinded up the bone and teeth to powder and made like a paste to go with it all. The level of commitment was outstanding."
"There goes the rest of my appitite."
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Lighting my summoning spell I wait patiently in Bobby's study. Reaching for his good whisky set on the corner of his desk. Tapping my boots I slow pour a glass. Taking my time. I certainly have more of it than Bobby.
"Red is such a lovely colour on you Eleanor." Glancing over my shoulder, Crowley leans in the doorway of the study with that sneaky smirk on his face "Shame it's tarnished by that atrocious plaid. Shall we play guess the original Winchester?"
Turning on my toe, I let Crowley's backwards insults glide off like water. "Thought we could at least have a civil conversation before we got into the nasty nitty gritty" I raise the glass to my lips.
"Why wait for the good things? Life is so short." Crowley curling his lip at the long sip I take, he grinds through his teeth "To what do I owe the pleasure of your summon?"
"Bobby's soul."
The laugh he emits already leaves me wanting to bruise his face. "Yeah. Alright. Do you want a pot of gold whilst you're askin?"
"No thanks. Just Bobby's soul please." Despite the heavy dramatic sigh that tears from Crowely, I remind him "You made a deal with us...so... in short and without coming across like a demanding five year old... gimmie."
"Should've read the fine print lass" Crowley tucks his hands into his dark coat "You're wasting your breath."
Tilting my head, I set my glass down with a heavy thump. "You think making me your enemy is a good idea?"
"A terrible one" Crowley deviously smirks "Lucky for me bad ideas tend to be my favourite." When I only stare back silently, Crowley drops his smirk. "Look, Huntress, this isn't personal. I like you enough and if I could I would. But it's business. He signed a contract that's binding. Now he's got to hold up his terms."
