The next time the demon appeared in his living room he was prepared. A beer and a glass paired with an expensive bottle of whiskey were standing on the table while he was reorganizing his books in the shelfs. Without bothering when he felt the other appear, he continued his task. As suspected the quite didn't hold for long. A snarky remark left the demon not a second after he noticed the upsetting on the table. "Ow did you miss me that much? You know I'm only a call away darling."

Taking a minute to be sure that he didn't blush at the pet name he turned around with risen eyebrows. "Yeah sure. If you insist, I call you next time, could use the praxis for the ritual and the devils trap. Not that I go rusty."

"No need to hurt yourself, just use the phone."

"You have a phone?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Sure, I'm not stuck in the dark ages, you know? If you ask nicely, I might even give you my number.", the demon suggests with a smug grin.

"In your dreams princess." Waving a hand, the older hunter slides on the sofa. They fall into a comfortable silence. Only the clicking of the ice, that magically manifested itself in Crowley Whiskey glass, made a sound.

Bobby was the first to break the silence. "Soo, how is hell?"

Stopping in his motion to drink, the king of hell lets his glass sink. Dramatically sighting he beginns his rant. "You don't want to know... Im surrounded by incompetent Idiots! They can't do the easiest task right and you hunters don't make my job any easier. Im losing too many competent employees and the new ones don't have any respect for the throne."

Acknowledging his problems Bobby shrugged. "What do you expect? Demons are broken souls after all and with only obsession and hate left most people couldn't think straight. I assume it takes time to handle the new existence and find a balance. And I think you know my answer to the hunters. There's no way that we stop what we're doing."

"Quite philosophic ... Know, but its frustrating. Sometimes I miss the old times. Just me and the road."

Snorting the hunter took a swing from his bottle. "Didn't think that demons could be so nostalgic."

"Maybe I'm special or maybe you don't know everything about us. Want to play for answers?" His eyes lit up with a mischievous glint.

There he goes again. It was every time the same. He could go from normal to demonic or from emotional to a brick wall. The hunter just couldn't figure him out. But as long as he didn't want to kill him or the boys he could hold up with his antics.

"You want to play? Do I look like an Idjit?", he asked carefully. Better save then sorry.

The demon just shrugt. "No strings attached."

Considering the offer, Bobby finally gave in. "'kay then lets play. I think I have some cards somewhere. But I swear if you try anything funny, I will bath you in holy water and shoot you till you look like swiss cheese."

Rising his hands to look peaceful he answered. "Wouldn't dream of it."

The glint in his eyes spoke otherwise but the other man trusted his word. Jesus when had it come to this? He, a hunter, trusted a demon, the king of hell non the less. Maybe he was going soft with age or senile...

Bobby found the cards and they played one round after the other. Here a snarky remark, there some exclamations and some harmless chatting. All in one it was a perfect evening. When Crowley was gone this night he found myself smiling as he rewound the evening in his had. He hadn't had this much fun in decades.