Hey guys! I was sitting alone in my house last night and I couldn't help thinking that I wanted someone to have a conversation with, and who better than our favorite demon? Of course, I wouldn't sign a contract with him, but I just wanted to have a conversation with him. This is what came of that thought.

Thank you to The Last of Her Kind for encouraging me to write this story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of it's characters, although I wish that I did so Gabriel would come back.

Enjoy!

I glanced at my watch, checking the time and date. I had been looking forward to this day all week. I always did. It was 3:58 on Sunday. He'd be over in two minutes, he always was. Four o'clock every Sunday, one of the closest friends I had came over to play chess with me, a game that my family never wanted to play but I adored. It was really sweet of him to play with me, even if it did surprise me at first.

I glanced at my watch again and took the kettle off the stove. We also shared a common admiration for a good cup of tea, and he always brought the best and rarest. How he got them, I have no idea, but he did. 1 minute to go. What really cracked me up was that I didn't know anyone more powerful, but he was still perfectly on time every Sunday. I asked him once what that was about, and he told me that it was just bad taste to be late to anything.

I was getting jittery now, my anticipation making me want to see him more than should probably be natural . . .

"Hello, Darling."

. . . seeing as he was the King of Hell.

"Hey, Crowley." I turned around from my position by the stove and looked towards the bar, seeing Crowley pouring himself a glass of scotch like I knew he would. He kept one of his favorite bottle at my house and I only took it out when he was over. The other six days of the week I kept it hidden. There would be some awkward moments if my . . . parents found a half drank bottle of scotch that they hadn't drunk. "Care for some tea?"

His eye brows went up like he had remembered something and he lowered the glass away from his face after he had taken a drink. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled a bag out of his pocket and passed it across the counter. "That would be lovely."

I took the bag and turned back towards the stove, preparing the tea. "How's business been?"

"Hard. Abaddon has not been making things easy. And then those two . . . morons, the Winchesters, keep on messing things up. Them and their baby with wings friend, Castiel." By this point, Crowley had made himself comfortable by taking off his coat, gently hanging it on the back of one of the chairs in the kitchen, and had taken a seat in the chair, facing me.

I brought the two cups over, giving him one and keeping one for myself. I took a seat at the table next to him, crossing my arms in front of me. Sometimes, we played chess and, sometimes we just talked. It looked like one of those times was going to be now. I never minded though. He was always there for me if I needed to talk, so why shouldn't I be there for him?

I sighed, uncrossing my arms and wrapping my hands around my hot cup of tea. The aroma was delightful and unlike anything I had ever smelled. I was glad that there was still some tea left in the bag, though he usually brought enough for the two of us and then one more cup for me. It was just one of the things he did. Sighing, I rubbed the thumb against the side of the tea cup. "I'm still getting used to the idea of people dying and then coming back to life."

Crowley nodded, a smile coming across his face. "Unfortunately, in my line of work, it happens a lot more than I would like it too." He took a sip of his tea and put the cup back down, looking over at me. "How have you been? I'm sorry that I didn't come for the past few weeks. I was . . . tied up."

I nodded, understanding immediately what he meant. These past few weeks had been hard. With no one that I could truly trust to talk to, I had to keep everything bottled up. For awhile, I was afraid that he had . . . died. But I had to banish that thought. I couldn't give up like that. I tried to smile, although I'm sure it didn't come out that way. "Winchesters?"

He rolled his eyes, taking another drink of tea. "Yes. Apparently, something went wrong with the moose and the baby lost his mojo. They thought it'd be fun to tie me up in their basement without so much as a coloring book."

I shook my head, anger welling in the pit of my stomach. If I ever come across those two . . .

"You never answered my question."

I looked up from the table, not realizing that I had been staring at it and saw that Crowley was carefully watching me, his all seeing eyes taking in every factor of my appearance. "Things have been . . ." I chose my word carefully, "interesting. Honestly, not much has happened." That was a blatant lie. Since last I saw him, a lot had happened, but I didn't need to burden him with my troubles.

However, he wasn't taking any of that. He remained silent, waiting for me to continue until the silence became so thick you could almost drink it.

"OK. So a lot has changed. I've been applying to colleges, even though I have no idea what I want to do and some of my friendships have become a little strained because of the fact that we're all going away." I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand, smoothing the stress knots in the muscles. "The teachers at school are really getting on our backs; 'in college this' and 'in college that'. It's enough to drive someone crazy."

Crowley nodded, his face showing sympathy for my predicament. "Yes, I can see where that would become irritating. But college can be good for ya'. Instead of learning all the useless facts, like in high school, you have the opportunity to learn some kind of trade." He smiled. I loved it when he smiled. It meant that there was something on his mind other than the problems of his world. "You could always go into business."

"I guess I could." I smiled back and we shared a small laugh. He was always pushing for me to go into business. I think he thought it was a noble practice, or something along those lines.

We enjoyed our tea with much lighter conversation for the remaining time but, eventually, it was time for him to go. That was my least favorite part of his visit, for, as much as I had faith in how capable he was, I was still always worried that this would be the last cup of tea we would share. He stood and began to pull his coat back on, gesturing towards his empty cup with his head. "Did you like the tea I brought?"

I nodded vigorously. "Uh huh. This one was really good. The aroma matched the flavor, which was actually a little surprising, due to how wonderful it smelled. I didn't expect it."

He smiled, straightening the lapels of his coat. "Good. I'll bring another one next weekend." Walking over to me, he put his hands on my arms, looking into my dark, almost black eyes, with his brown ones. "I'm not going to sugar coat this. Things have gotten rough out there, and you need to be careful. If anyone learned that I was coming here . . . It would get very dangerous for you. I wouldn't like that."

I nodded, smiling at him. Of course. Things were getting dangerous out there and I was the one who could get hurt. My real "father" never said things like that to me. It was funny how he was more of a father to me than my step-dad. My biological father had died, and my mother wasn't much of a role model, getting drunk and partying hard. Not really something to look up to. When my father, a good man, had died, Crowley had appeared, and he became kind of my surrogate father. Weird, how someone who lived in darkness could become that close to you. But I didn't care if he was a demon or anything else. All I knew was that he was my friend . . . my best friend.

I took a step forward, wrapping my arms around him and putting my head against his chest. Of course, there was no heartbeat, but that didn't bother me. I felt his arms wrap around my back and pull me closer. "Don't worry," I heard him say, so quietly that I could barely hear him. "I'm coming back."

I nodded, still not letting go. Finally, he pulled away, looking into my red rimmed eyes. This last time of absence had really shaken me, and, by the look in his eyes, he knew. "Be good. I'll be back next Sunday."

I nodded, again. My voice seemed to be failing me. When I finally found it, all I could say was, "Watch out for those two morons and the baby."

He smiled. "Bye, darling." And then he was gone.

You can ask me any question you want like, "what's wrong with you, he's a demon", or "can't you see he's evil", or, my personal favorite, "why would he waste time on someone like you? Why not talk to the president of the United State?" but I can't answer any of those. I can't really answer any questions. All I can tell you is that I am best friends with the King of Hell.

How was it? Any good? Please tell me with a review!

Have a great rest of the weekend and a great week!