"Dude, my soulmate is an astronaut"

Dean hissed a couple of curses under his breath, picking up his phone and dialing up Crowley's number. "This is the King's phone. I don't really care about what you may want, and right now I am clearly too busy to not care in person, but if you'd be so kind to leave a message, I'll make sure not to care later." Dean slammed down his cellphone after grunting a colorful "Yeah well fuck you too then!". He looked at Sam and Castiel. "He never answers when we actually need him!"
"Who never answers?" Crowley asked, lounging in one of the numerous armchairs of the room. As if he had been there for hours, actually. He grinned. "Hello, boys", he drawled out, waiting for the effect of his sudden apparition to sink in.

Castiel rolled his eyes dramatically. Geesh. Why did they need Crowley's help, of all people?
Sam was a bit startled by the demon's sudden appearance - as usual - but, aside from a heavy sigh, he didn't display his irritation anymore. "Crowley. We... actually have a few questions to ask you."

Dean groaned loudly, burying his face into his hands. Talk about an overdramatic reaction.
Crowley looked at his surroundings, carefully taking in any sign of potential traps while looking utterly uninterested - but pleased with the common annoyance he had managed to get as a reaction. "And let's hear, why should I bother answer your questions?", he asked finally, eyes falling on Sam.

Sam licked his lips. "We need to perform a ritual of-" He looked down to his book. "'bonding reinforcement for a soulmate thread'. We need to prevent angels from cutting a thread." He remained intentionally evasive on the subject, as to not betray Dean or Castiel right away.

Crowley made a face. "Since when do angels aside from Cherubs get involved with that kind of things? ", he asked. "I thought the Holy Choir Boys had far more important things to do than give a damn about which human gets laid with who." He distractedly materialized a full glass of whiskey. It was clear he found their interest intriguing. And just as clear that he didn't intend to answer anytime soon.

"It's about one of us, in fact," Sam replied, preventing Castiel from spilling the beans right away. "According to Cas, angels wish to damage the thread, to get to us. This is why we need a ritual to secure it."

Crowley hummed, sipping from his glass. He got up from the armchair - ignoring as Dean automatically tensed - and walked up to them, eyes studying their faces as if trying to understand who exactly was the one involved. "You are aware that this ritual is extremely advanced magic, aren't you?", he spoke slowly. "You think you can pull it off?"

"We will be ready to do whatever it takes," Castiel answered, frowning slightly. He was really, really bad at hiding he was one of the main subjects of the ritual.

Crowley's gaze shifted to Castiel. The corners of his mouth twitched, curling up into a smile. A very, very non-reassuring smile. "Good. Does that mean I will actually get something out of this? Because", he added, interrupting Dean as he was about to start protesting, "I hope you don't think I'd break my neck for you two yahoos, looking for extremely hard-to-find ingredients, just out of the goodness of my heart."

Castiel rolled his eyes, then glared back at Crowley. "What would you possibly want from us?" Yes, it was becoming kind of obvious that this all had to do with Castiel and his soulmate, so far.

Crowle's smirk just got wider. "Easy on the bite, Castiel. You might want to be kinder with me, seeing as you and your sweetheart depend entirely on my mood right now", he drawled, making it absolutely clear that he had understood who this was mainly about. "As for what I need... you might have heard of a couple of demons gone rogue around the area of Lake Michigan?"

"... that's it, you want us to kill some demons?" Sam frowned slightly. "What are you hiding from us?"

Crowley clicked his tongue, downing the rest of his alcohol. "I don't expect you to understand what is a power move for Hell politics and what is not. Besides, I don't really need to explain whatever evil scheme I am putting up to you of all people, do I, Moose?" Yep, he was totally hiding something.

"Well, we're about to sign up some sorte of deal with you. I'd like to make sure that- well, that Castiel won't get a wrong surprise in a near future."
Castiel was still glaring at Crowley, even more when the king of Hell had mentionned his 'sweetheart'.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "I really don't care about soulmate threads. They are a huge waste of time. Even if I have to admit, they can be... profitable." He glanced over to Castiel. What was a soul compared to keeping your destined one safe and good, after all? "Anyway. Let's say that killing that half a dozen of poor idiots will be the first half of my payment. It's always good to have the Winchesters owe you one."
Dean grunted. "I knew it."

Castiel kept glaring back at Crowley. "Technically, I'm the one needing the ritual. I will be the one owing you... one."
"Just to make sure, there's nothing tricky awaiting us?" Sam asked, frowning slightly. "I mean, are they regular demons, or is it particularly difficult to kill them?"

"Even better, seeing as you aren't as easily killed off. Angel assistance. I just have to gain from this." Crowley threw a smile in Castiel's direction. He studied his hands, as if his nails were infinitely more interesting than the conversation going on in that moment. "Well. We are talking crossroads rookies. Which means, there are Hellhounds involved. Be the judge."

Sam sighed heavily. "Son of bitch," he muttered under his breath. "What assures us that you can gather all the ingredients for the ritual?"

Crowley straightened up. "What part of 'King of Hell' didn't get through your thick skull? Let me see those ingredients", he snapped, getting the book from him. He muttered in a low voice while reading those, as if making a mental note about what and where. Then he closed the book. "I've never seen a grocery list so stupidly easy to get through in my entire life", he commented, throwing the book back at Sam. "Nine hours and I could have all of those in my possession. If you accept to do me that little pest control favour I asked, of course."

Sam sighed, and glanced over to Dean and Cas. "So. Should we do it?"
Castiel looked at Dean, because, well, it was a decision they needed to take together, in the end.

Dean glanced at his brother. Then to Castiel. He bit back an unhappy groan as he finally looked at Crowley, who was looking like he was having the time of his life. "We don't have the time to think of another solution and you know it, you dirtbag", he spat, obviously pissed that they had to go for his help. "We can't say no."
The demon all but smiled at them. "So, we have a deal?"

"Deal," Castiel answered, a tad moody. "But I'm signing it," he quickly added. He knew that Crowley had tricked Bobby Singer into a kiss, and was certainly not ready to try it, especially with Dean watching.

Yeah, Dean totally did NOT want to watch that. He suddenly relaxed on his chair when Castiel specified on the signing.
Crowley rolled his eyes, theatrically. "Hell are you boring. Do you get off on being a party pooper?" He snapped his fingers though, and moved his hand as a very, very long roll of paper all written in the smallest handwriting one could possibly imagine, the final part unrolling right in front of Castiel. A pen appeared right next to it. "There you go. Your signature on the line, please."

Castiel grabbed the pen, and glared at Crowley once more. He nonetheless signed the contract right away, then handed the pen back to him. "There. Where are your rogue demons?"

Crowley critically glanced at the signature, then snapped his fingers once more, making the contract and the pen vanish in thin air. "Travers City, Michigan. Get your camping gear on, boys", he said. His attention was caught by the slight moving of the thread tied to Castiel's finger. Yes, he could see it perfectly now. He followed it with disinterest, just for his eyes to widen slightly when he saw just who held up the other side. Oh boy. He bit his lip in order not to laugh because, c'mon. Seriously?