Chapter Text
John let a slow smile grow as he watched the proceedings. This time was definitely shaping up differently.
By a strange sequence of events and after years of searching for the culprits responsible for the death of his wife in a ranch fire, John had found himself as well as his sons and some former comrades settled in as the protectors of a little town called Four Corners. There had been some friction getting such a group of ornery and independent individuals to cooperate as a team, but now things were starting to mesh and they were getting a reputation. A reputation expanded by the penny-dreadful novels written about them by a certain Chuck Shirley. But the notoriety had at times led to their being sought out by desperados seeking to make a reputation from defeating them. It had been one such case that had led to the current situation.
A group of bandits had been attacking some of the outlying ranches. And during some of their raids they had carried off some of the women and children to sell over the border. They had needed to find the bandits hideout to rescue the hostages and capture the outlaws. When they had exhausted their own resources, they had been forced to seek answers in Purgatorio.
Purgatorio was a wretched hive of scum and villainy, the hangout for all the worst criminals in the territory were anything could be had--for a price. And the unofficial king of Purgatorio was Crowley, who was involved in or knew about most anything going on. Crowley had no scruples about selling out criminals who might become potential rivals, but while he always scrupulously honored any deals he made they were always slanted in his favor and usually cost more than one could afford. Bobby had been injured in their first encounter with the bandit gang and had been quietly fuming over his inability to help subsequently. So while the others had been fruitlessly searching the wilderness for traces of the bandits after their most recent raid, Bobby had contacted Crowley for the information. He had gotten the location for the hideout, but it had cost an IOU on the Singer Stables.
The hostages had been rescued and the bandits captured or killed, but then there had been a minor explosion when Bobby revealed the source - and the cost- of the information. It was unanimously decided that no way were they going to let Crowley collect. And they might even have the means of preventing that. So leaving Rufus to keep an eye on Bobby (and Dean had quietly questioned the wisdom of that plan) the others had ridden off to Purgatorio to reclaim Bobby’s IOU.
They had entered The Crossroads bar, to find Crowley seated at a table drinking fine brandy and surveying the action in his place. One of the bar girls refilled his drink while two of his great black hounds lounged at his feet. John had sat down at the table to open negotiations trusting his boys to watch his back. Finally they had settled on a poker game to win back the IOU. So John called forth their secret weapon.
Gabriel had flung the swinging doors open dramatically, sauntering up to the table while smirking from ear to ear and taking a seat. One of the hounds growled from under the table and Gabriel reminisced that he had been quite fond of his own little doggy. Crowley sniffed and flicked invisible dirt from his fine suit while Gabriel responded with a convoluted shuffling maneuver performed with sweeping hand motions emphasized by his frilly lace cuffs. They then bared their teeth at each other in challenging smiles and the game commenced, the air of smugness at the table thicker than the smoke in the bar. From his position near the table John was soon able to determine that they were both cheating. But each successful dirty trick only seemed to spur the opponent on to greater treachery.
As the game became more and more outrageous (and more and more cut-throat) John glanced at the table where his boys had settled. Dean was flirting outrageously with three of the bar girls that he had lured to the table. Cas was huddled down in his tan coat, seemingly focused on his barely touched beer with his ears turning progressively redder. Sam had leaned back in his chair and was scowling at Dean disapprovingly.
John’s focus was drawn back to the poker game when he heard a declaration of “all in”. Both combatants radiated smug confidence as they showed their hands….