He couldn't say for sure why he was the one who answered her call. Certainly he didn't have to, he was the king of the crossroads demons; he usually only answered calls from already notable humans in some shape or another. But, the thing was, he did answer. For better or for worse.

It started off simple enough. Just the same as every other call he answered.

"Hello love."

Crowley looked at the target for just a minute before looking around to the crossroads that he'd been summoned to. It was night – it usually was. The area was deserted as far as he could see and the only other thing nearby were some blackbirds in a tree a few hundred yards away and a rabbit that was currently running in terror. Only when his curiosity had been satisfied did he turn back to the girl that had summoned him.

"Bit young for this, aren't you?"

The girl couldn't be more than eleven, ten. She had dark hair that she wore like a curtain and she was scrawny. Nothing but a slip of a creature. Not remarkable, not even that pretty until she looked up at him. Her eyes were green and they almost seemed to glow by the light of the small lantern she'd placed next to her. The girl was kneeling on the ground, hands still in front of her, nails crusted with dirt. The ground in front of her was freshly upturned.

He could tell now, he'd gotten her age wrong. Thirteen maybe, that'd be about right.

"I didn't think that would work," she said. Her lips twisted as though she were thinking about something unpleasant. He'd seen this before, second doubts. Her voice was steady enough though. More so than most adults he dealt with. Which made him ask, "Do you know what you've done? Or did you find the spell and decided to give it a go for shits and giggles?"

She tilted her head. Any uncertainty that was in her voice before was gone when she replied, "I know what I'm doing. I have something I want to trade my soul for."

The girl didn't look away from him. Didn't flinch. Crowley was interested. Of course, he didn't show that, his face was just as bored as it ever was. When he spoke it was his normal snarky tone. "Of course you do. What's the problem? Don't have enough barbie dolls? Did your brother break your Easy Bake Oven? Oh, I've got it. Your mother won't let you go to your friend's sleepover and all the cool girls are going."

"My mother's dead."

"I'd say I'm sorry but I'm really not."

That got a reaction from the girl. She scowled. He ignored her and asked, "What's your name."

He knew, of course he knew. She had called him.

"Saffie."

"That's not it. Your full name."

The girl's scowl deepened. Well, even if he couldn't get her scared he could get her angry. That was something.

She answered, "Sapphire Anne Scott."

Crowley knew that he had no grounds to stand on when it came to names but he couldn't help but grin when the words left her lips. "Sapphire? Well, excuse me princess." If she got any angrier she might punch him. Not that he was worried. Or even bothered.

"My parents were pretentious douchebags."

"Ouch. Now, you know it's not nice to speak about the dead like that."

Saffie finally stood up. She rolled her eyes and Crowley had to wonder about the last time someone had the audacity to do that to him. He was the king of the crossroads and this child was rolling her eyes at him. He needed to work on his image. Or maybe scare the hell out of her.

Crowley began to approach her. "Listen child. I could smite you where you stand without even lifting a finger. I'm older than you could even imagine and I WILL NOT HAVE YOU ROLLING YOUR EYES AT ME!"

She looked away but didn't step back. He was impressed despite himself. Demons cowed when he started yelling.

Saffie brushed her hands on the dirty white dress she was wearing and opened her mouth to speak. Though she didn't show it, Crowley could tell that she was scared. Her mouth closed and she swallowed before trying again. "I want you to tell me who killed my mother."

Again he was taken by surprise. "You do know that I can just kill whomever it was that killed her." It seemed a lot simpler in his mind, so Crowley was a bit taken aback when she started to shake her head.

"That's not what I want. I want to know who it is who killed her." She spoke slow as though speaking to someone who was having trouble keeping up. Crowley was a big enough man to find her antics more amusing than vexing. A lesser demon might have gotten irritated, killed her. But he was patient, he wasn't like those steroid laden monkeys under his command that called themselves demons.

"Fine. That's our deal then. I tell you who killed mommy dearest and in ten years I get your soul."

He wasn't sure why he was spelling it out for her, Crowley certainly wasn't below sneaking or tricking someone's soul from them. If this kept going you could strap a pair of wings on him, take away his sarcasm, and call him a fairie. Or angel. They were both annoying.

Saffie looked down and her weight shifted from foot to foot. She was thinking about her offer. Of course, it was a moot point by now. Crowley knew that she would say,

"Deal."

Crowley smiled, or he did until she looked up. Again he was taken aback by her eyes. She might have been young but she was no idiot. She knew what would happen in ten years – right? Something about this deal gave him an ill feeling and as he leaned over and pressed a brief kiss to her lips to seal the deal.

I'm not usually one to write canonx oc fanfictions but this story just wouldn't leave me alone. If you don't like, that's fine. If you do want to leave a critique or comment, that'd be more than fine. And, as always, I don't own the characters sans Saffie, or the show.