"Okay your hotness, I mean highness; time for you to address your subjects." Spicy said as she entered the kitchen where Sam, Dean and the other humans were eating lunch. "We have to get you ready to face your troops. If you're going to lead them on the battlefield you first need to make a showing in hell." She turned toward the timid little demon standing behind her. "Well get to work! Our boy King needs to look every inch the majestic ruler that he is."
"What?!" Sam found himself dragged out of his seat while the little demon produced a tape measure and began taking measurements, undeterred by Sam hands trying to bat him away. "Spicy what the hell?"
"Oh, he's Crowley's old tailor." Spicy said as she perched on the counter and pulled out an emery board and began attending to her nails. "Sold his soul to become a world famous designer. His menswear designs were all the rage in 18th century Europe. Being Crowley's own tailor he was allowed to hang around up here for years." Spicy blew a bit of dust from her nails. "Don't worry. He's up on all the latest fashions."
Sam was now in a tug of war over his shirt as the little demon was trying to drag it from his body. "Stop it!" Sam growled as the fabric slipped through his fingers.
"Oh Sam you've got nothing at all to be embarrassed about! As the old saying goes, if you've got it flaunt it! And you have certainly got a body worth flaunting!"
"I'll say!" Jody piped up causing Sam to squeak in embarrassment while Dean roared with laughter.
Spicy turned to the older Winchester. "Don't laugh Dean Winchester. I've already been warned that you won't let Sam go to hell without you. Can't have you making the king look bad. Your turn is coming up next."
"What do you mean my turn is coming up next?" Dean squawked.
"Well now we are not going to go through all the trouble of making Sam GQ ready and let you stand up on stage next to him looking like that! Sorry nouveau grunge is not in vogue." Spicy waved a hand in dismissal at Dean's clothes. "We can't have the Boy King of Hell looking fierce and the Righteous Man looking like he escaped from a Nirvana video. Kurt Cobain would shit a brick!"
Gabriel and Lucifer had picked out a room in the subbasement of the bunker that they felt would fit their needs and were just finishing up some very powerful warding. Gabriel snapped his fingers and two comfortable couches appeared.
"We may as well be comfortable right?" Gabriel said as he plopped down and bounced on the padded surface like a little kid.
"Tell me why you were so dead set against Metatron's suggestion?" Lucifer asked as he sprawled on the opposite couch. "Do you really think Samael would be so quick to turn against us?"
"I know he would Luci." Gabriel said. "If it was me being brought back and you were threatening my child, I would do whatever I had to do to protect her. We can't hope that Samael would see the flaw in his child. None of the Gregori could see the flaws in them."
"Maybe I'm getting senile, but I'm sure you were arguing for tolerance back in the day." Lucifer said.
"Yeah, I did preach tolerance didn't I, and she was one of those I advocated tolerance for." Gabriel agreed. "But only because up until then she was innocent of any wrongdoing. I simply thought that we should wait until they did something to deserve destruction."
Gabriel rearranged a pillow behind his back squirming around for a few moments. "She's the last one and well I guess Dad knew what he was doing since she has gone off the rails now too. The question is was she always going to go off the rails or did we push her off?"
"Winchesters rubbing off on you?" Lucifer asked. "Don't go there Gabriel. She would have derailed all on her own eventually. I should have accepted that instead of thinking I could keep her straight."
"And you say they are rubbing off on me?" Gabriel snorted. "Maybe if you hadn't ended up in the cage. Maybe we all screwed up, now all we can do is take the steps to fix it."
"I know little brother. And then we just figure out how to deal." Lucifer said. "But right now we have to do what we can to fix it."
Spicy grinned as a demon ushered Sam and Dean into her office bowing a scraping in an effort to amass brownie points from Hell's Boy King while Dean just looked disgusted at the display.
"Sam, Dean; welcome. You can change in Sam's Office." Spicy said. "You outfits were just delivered."
"Wait Sam has an office?" Dean asked.
Spicy turned and started walking down a carpeted hall. "Corner office with a view. Lucifer said he wanted Sam to be comfortable whenever he's here." Spicy said stopping in front of a door with a gold plate that read:
"S. Winchester, Esq"
Smirking she opened the door. The office was huge with two glass walls overlooking what looked like a green plaza with a large fountain in the middle. A huge modern chrome and glass desk dominated the room.
"Damn!" Dean exclaimed. "Dude, this place puts the oval office to shame!"
"Uh, it's kind of douchey." Sam said looking around.
"Well this is hell." Spicy said. She walked over to a brass coat tree and took down two garment bags handing one to Sam and the other to Dean. "Private washroom through here." She said opening a door to reveal a large complete bathroom then went to another door and opened it. "And a large combination walk-in closet/file room. You can change in the closet Dean."
Sam shrugged and disappeared into the bathroom with his garment bag while Dean frowned and went into the closet. Dean changed and took a few moments to check his reflection in the full length mirror on the back of the door. He had to admit the suit fit well and was much more comfortable than the Kmart special he had bought off the clearance rack.
Checking his reflection one last time he opened the door. "Hey Sammy! I could get used to this." Dean said looking up at Sam.
"Son of a bitch! Oh hell no!" Sam was dressed all in white in a suit that Dean knew all too well."
"Dean?" Sam frowned. "What?"
"Not that suit Sammy." Dean said memories of a dead world where the Croatoan virus was a global epidemic, Cas was a drugged out human, and Dean was willing to sacrifice all of his friends (the few that had survived), and Lucifer had appeared to gloat wearing that very suit.