Hellmouths are for Lovers

Chapter Fourteen

The last remaining element of the summoning spell fell into the bowl, and the mixture flashed and smoked. The lights blinks unevenly, fading to the point of darkness, then bursting back brighter than before in a brilliant flare. Angel and Spike shielded their eyes from the piercing light. When their eyes finally transitioned Crowley stood before them, looking bored and examining his nails.

"Poncy tosser always did love an entrance..." Spike mumbled.

"Oh no. Imagine that? A devil's trap..." Crowley feigned surprise flatly as he pushed back the cuticle on his left ring finger, "Oh, come now, Gentlemen—is all this song and dance entirely necessary?" his hands swept in both directions to indicate the Devil's Trap, "Plenty of crossroads in the Cleveland Metro area."

"Well, unfortunately, last time I had a reflection, no one had gotten around to inventing the camera," Angel smirked.

Crowley's eyes scanned his dripping, stinking surroundings, "So glad you lot went the extra mile for me, rolling out the red carpet for the occasion, and all. Will the champagne waiter be around soon?"

"Be as patronizing as you want, but I'm not really in the mood—"Angel began before rage exploded out of the otherwise controlled Crowley.

"And, I'm not really in the mood to re-negotiate terms with two brooding bloodsuckers while human excrement drips on my hand-tailored Italian suit," Crowley barked, the energy of his words reverberating off the bricks and pipes in the labyrinth of tunnels, "... then again, we don't always get what we want, do we? Which is why I'm not changing a single part of this deal- not if you two pissants expect me to turn you back into real boys."

"You're the one who came to us," Spike reminded, approaching him and staring him right in the eye, "...Begging, if I remember. So, it seems to me that the desperate party in this deal is you."

"I. Do. Not. Beg," Crowley emphasized his words clear and slow, eyes never deflecting from Spike's, "I also know there are several other very interested parties I could have approached to see this deal through, but-" his lips twisted into an overly saccharin smiles, "Call me an old-fashioned, hopeless romantic though. I simply thought if was anyone should be rewarded for saving the Vampire Slayer, it should be her two star-crossed lovers."

"Which is why you were so open and helpful about mentioning Winchester and Buffy are tethered?" Spike scoffed.

"And, ruin the surprise? Not a chance. Then I would have lost the opportunity to see that look," Crowley drew a circle in the air around Spike's face, "On your face."

"I am done with your games and bullshit, Crowley!" Angel shouted, pushing Spike out of the way to grab Crowley violently by the lapels of his aforementioned suit, "I have no problem stopping the Apocalypse—hell, I'd do that for free. But, I'm not going to do it unless I can find a way that doesn't involve the hunter."

"You're very, very dense, aren't you?" Crowley directed a jab back at Angel, eyes narrowing from impatience, "See Romeo, the thing is it simply just does not work like that. Sorry to burst your moody little bubble, but it's a fact. I've done my fair share of altering fates in my day. Trust me when I say the Moirae have no love for me. I only avoid their wrath because my meddling is temporary. After my hounds come upstairs to claim a soul, fate returns to its factory settings," the emotion on his face changed to a serious determination, "The Flyboys, on the other hand, have bolloxed this reality into near oblivion, leaving us only one way to restack the Jenga tower."

White spots were bleaching Angel's knuckles. A beat passed between the three of them, and Angel released Crowley from his clutched fists. Both he and Spike regretted having nothing to say in protest.