Crowley and Dan
Crowley had not searched for company. Food and drink had been what he was after. Yet, he now found himself opposite another middle-aged man. The run in with the demon hunter had been unpleasant. The man had milked him for information and seemed upset when he refused to answer anymore. Nothing Crowley fancied in his life, especially with someone who hunted his kind by profession.
"No, no. We are not doing this," he intervened. "You tell me about yourself first." Yes, he did realise that this human might only be after a friendly chat but here was the thing about Crowley: he did not care!
The demon leaned back comfortably. Ever since he had figured out that this arrangement on this space station was a little more permanent than he would ever like to admit, Crowley's mood had been funny. The snake slithered on the border of desperation, mad exhilaration and out right insanity.
For the first time in his life he had no job and purpose.
For the first time in his life he was utterly free.
Freedom would have been appreciated in his old world. There were things to do. Places to visit. People - or rather a particular person - to visit places with. Here, he didn't even have his Bentley. Crowley missed his Bentley.