Unsurprisingly, none of the spells worked. They just... didn't . Sera was starting to conceive the thought that there was something -or someone- trying to stop them.
If there were someone, at least, she thought, everyone would believe these spells are fake, and they’d probably get lost again.
But as it usually happens when one manages to find a silver lining on a probable situation, things went a different way.
Because after the crushed bones had been dumped in the bowl and the chanting had been done, nothing happened.
Where they expected it to happen, at least.
Dean frowned at the map, frustrated.
He picked the paper up and stared.
"Do you see-"
"Not a damn thing." He threw the map to the floor and Sera bit her lip subtly. "Seems like you were afraid of a fake..."
But Dean's voice died off as he noticed Crowley staring at something in the war room.
In a second, they were all surrounding the map table.
“What are those dots?”
“Those... Those are angels ...” Whispered Sera, shocked.
"Wait, so what are you saying?" Asked Sam.
"Every angel? You can't be serious."
Sera turned to face Dean, and he realized how deadly serious she was.
" This is why you wouldn't tell us what this spell was?" He insisted anyway. But she just couldn't care to answer him right now.
The spell worked. It made sense, if you thought about it: It had been made by a man of letters, so it needed to be done in the bunker. Sera knew this one wasn't the only bunker out there, and while normally she'd be wondering where did it come from, now all she could do was shiver.
"This spell-” Her voice failed her, and she had to take a recomposing breath. “It's too powerful. It's-... This is wrong." She stated. She looked shaken, but her point remained. "Nobody should have access to this. Not even Heaven. Not even me."
Sam shot a look at Crowley, one that meant what they were all thinking.
"You don't have to worry about us. We will never mention any of this again," said Castiel solemnly, and then added, "but I can't speak for everyone."
Sam was about to say something, but Crowley interrupted him.
"Please, feathers, there's no need for such inhospitality." The King of Hell smirked, and then dropped his head to the side. "It's true that you don't have any reason to trust me, but I know better than going against you lot. Usually doesn't work out well for me."
"That never seemed to stop you before," pointed out Sam, staring challenging at the demon.
"Why would it stop you now?" Finished Dean, shifting his stance from one foot to the other. Against all logic, it didn't make him seen nervous but impatient, like he couldn't wait for the most minimal excuse to tear his throat out.
The next thing he knew, was that all eyes were on Crowley. The demon, realizing this, looked for backup in the only place he thought he'd find it- And he was shocked to find fear instead.
"Sera, dear, please tell me you don’t honestly think that I’d-...”
“I-...” She started, but she closed her eyes in a poor attempt to ground herself. “I need all of you to realize of serious this is.”
“Sam, wait, let me finish;” she asked, and the hunter nodded. “This goes beyond hunting Nyila, or finding Madziel, or anything else. This- This could extinguish our entire race.”
All eyes went back to Crowley. Seraphiel lifted her hand and snapped her fingers together.
And just like that, they were no longer on the war room. It took the demon a second to recognize the kitchen of the bunker, and then another one to realize that they were both alone in the kitchen of the bunker.
“I need to speak with you.”
“Yes, I can tell,” he replied, gesturing vaguely to the change of scenery.
His chest tightened at her voice tone. Normally, she'd roll her eyes thinking that no one saw her, return the sassy comment or just smile, but now she was leaning on the wooden table, not even meeting his eyes.
“So am I. Sera, I won’t ever discuss this with anyone, you have my word.”
“I want to make a deal.”
Crowley eased the shocked expression on his face and forcefully replaced it with one of entertainment.
“You could lie to me, and you could break your promises, but you can’t break a deal. I’m sorry, but this is not a risk I’m willing to take.”
“You... Do remember how deals are sealed, right?”
“I don’t care what I have to do,” she stated, her lower lip trembling. Her eyes met his and he could swear his breathing stopped for a split second. “Just name your price, and I’ll do it. Please.”
Something removed inside of Crowley’s chest. There was something about having the archangel begging in front of him, that sent waves of heat straight to his d- Well, I’m sure you can imagine.
But even when he knew he would never take advantage of this situation, knowing that he technically could ... The demon took a deep breath.
“There is something you could do for me. But if you don’t feel up to it, feel free to negotiate.”
Crowley took a few steps to the side, pacing calmly. He hoped she couldn’t see past his act, because he hadn’t been this nervous in ages.
It’s not like he was asking her out on a date or anything. Except that he totally was, in his own way. And she could laugh at him, or accuse him of trying to trick her, or who knows what else. So he walked a little around the kitchen, before turning his back to the angel and placing both of his hands down on the counter.
“I want you to tell me the truth.”
“Wh-..?” Sera shook her head, and he could see it even when she was behind him. “Ask away,” she said, sounding suddenly a lot more angelic than he was used to, “I’ll tell you anything I can.”
“Not like that. And not now,” he explained, turning to see Sera’s burning face, “once this whole mess is over, I’d like to sit down with you for a cup of tea, and ask you a few questions I have.”
She frowned, untrusting, but she’d said she’d answer anything, so backing off didn’t feel like an option.
“Can I know what kind of questions to expect?”
“Nothing too dangerous for me to know, don’t worry. It's just innocent curiosity, that’s all.”
Something about the way he said ‘innocent’ sent a shiver down her spine. She knew that this could go very wrong very fast, but if he said anything about the spell...
“I’ll do it.” The demon hid his victorious smile before turning to face her. Her pale skin was a shade of red as vibrant as a Picasso painting. “I’ll answer anything you ask me. The meeting can last up to four hours, in a place of your choice. In return, you must never speak, write down, try to reproduce or even attempt to remember the spell. Agreed?”
A little impressed at the archangel, the demon nodded. Not everyday you find someone who knows how to properly negotiate terms.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal.”
The second those words were in the air, both beings realized what came next.
Part of Crowley wanted to tell her that he could write down a contract instead, that she didn’t have to go through that if she didn’t want to. But the other, more demonic part, was not willing to let pass the (probably) only chance he’d ever get to kiss the archangel.
So he walked towards the angel slowly, and watched as her lips parted while she took a deep breath. Once he was only one step away, her eyes closed, and her hands rested on her sides, giving him full access to her face.
The shout came from far away, but they wouldn’t take too long to find them. In the moment that it took Crowley to mentally curse those damned plaid wearing nightmares, Seraphiel took him by the collar of his suit and pulled him closer, sealing both their lips and the deal in a rushed movement.
It took Crowley more than he’d like to admit to realize what was happening. Not only they were kissing, but she had kissed him. Yes, it was to make a deal and it was fueled by the fear of the Winchesters trying to stop her, but he had never once considered the possibility of this situation going down like this. Or even happening at all, of course, because that'd be ridiculous.
The deal was closed, so they didn’t had any reason to continue kissing.
However, they didn’t stop.
Crowley had only gotten to close his eyes when Sera pulled away, took a few breaths not looking at his eyes, and kissed him again.
She didn’t had an excuse, and Crowley had bigger things in his mind at the moment to worry about it. Like, for example, the softest lips he had ever felt, gently caressing his own, or the way that her hair smelled like coconut, or vanilla or caramel or everything mixed together.
If all angels were like her, he'd probably wouldn't mind having to deal with them in such a regular basis, he realized, right before the door was open by a very hysterical Dean.
Sera, whose hands were still on Crowley’s suit, broke the kiss as abruptly as she had started it and immediately walked towards the door before Dean, or anyone, could get a word out.
She walked past Dean, not making eye contact. Sam and Cas were right behind him, but she wasn’t sure if they had seen her. Dean had, undoubtedly, but they were further away than him.
Dean closed the door with Crowley still inside, and stepped right in Sera’s way, putting his hands on her shoulders.
She looked up, ashamed to see the concern she had put in her friend’s expression.
“Sera, what did you do?”
“What I had to,” she replied, before shaking off Dean’s gentle grip and walking back to the war room.
Sam was the first one to go after her. Cas and Dean stood there for an extra moment, frozen into each other’s eyes, with only one shared thought: Crowley is a dead man.