Chapter 1 - The Love Of Power, And The Power Of Love
"Shouldn't you be sitting in a swivel chair, petting a white cat?" Gail quipped.
Crowley barked a short laugh. "Don't make me laugh, sweetheart. You'll ruin my black hearted reputation."
"What are YOU doing here?" Castiel said angrily. Didn't they have enough problems right now?
"Let's all sit down and talk, like civilized people," Crowley said, ignoring him. He gestured to the chairs at the boardroom table. Then he looked at Patricia. "Allow me to introduce myself," he said to her. "I'm Crowley. King of Hell. You look like the corporate type. I'd give you a business card, but the new design is being printed at the moment. Still, I have heard that you are, shall we say, a believer in the traditional ways. So, please," he continued, pulling a chair out for her. "Have a seat."
Patricia looked at him disbelievingly. Then she looked at Cas. "Why are you just standing there?" she berated him. "Take your blade out and kill him!"
Gail chuffed out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh, sure! Suddenly you WANT Cas to take his blade out! You're such a hypocrite, Patricia! Aren't you afraid Cas will get carried away by the smell of blood and kill you, too? Sit your ass down!"
Crowley looked at the women, smirking. "Well, well. What do we have, here? I believe they call this a cat fight. Should I alert Moose and Squirrel, and tell them to bring the popcorn?" He waved his finger, and Patricia sat down with a plop in the chair he had pulled out for her. "Sorry, dear lady, but I'd like to move this along," he told her, with some humour.
The other three glanced at each other, sighing. They took their seats.
"I take it from your glum expressions that today's debate wasn't exactly all puppies and rainbows," Crowley said dryly. "Still, the day's not over, yet. I don't suppose Heaven celebrates Hallowe'en. But, where I come from, we're kind of partial to it. So, now that I've played my trick on all of you, I'm here for my treat."
"What are you babbling about?" Cas said irritably.
Crowley ignored him again, focusing instead on Patricia. So, this was the woman who Lucifer had violated. She looked none the worse for wear, though. In fact, out of the four of them, she was the one who looked the most put together at the moment. Crowley didn't know anything about the woman, but he could intuit what had happened here today. She had done some digging, and she had turned up some bones. Crowley himself was privy to nearly all of their secrets, so he knew that there was definitely gold in them thar hills, as Bobby's Appalachian ancestors might have been wont to say.
"It looks as if this party could use a happy hour," Crowley remarked casually. He snapped his fingers, and a decanter of whiskey appeared on the boardroom table, along with five glasses. He waved his finger, and one glass slid to each place.
Crowley looked at Patricia. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what your preference was. This seemed to be the most generic choice." She was staring at him with a mixture of disgust and terror on her face. The King wasn't oblivious to that fact, but that was the way that most people looked at him, and he was attempting diplomacy with his appearance here today. "What is your name, dear lady?" Crowley asked Patricia, with all the courtliness he could muster.
But she said nothing still, so Bobby answered instead: "Patricia." She threw him a quick glare, but Bobby had ceased to care. After the stunt she had pulled earlier, let her be the one to squirm for a while.
"Patricia. A very fine name," Crowley said heartily. "Have a drink, Patricia."
She continued to stare at him wordlessly, so, after a moment, Crowley's eyes fell on Bobby. "How about you? I'm sure you'd like a snort, Bobby," the King said, affecting a Southern accent.
Bobby scowled. He'd love to, actually, but after what Patricia had said about him earlier, he figured he'd better not. "Pass," he said tersely.
Crowley looked at Castiel, opened his mouth, then shut it again. His Brother had that dark expression on his face that suggested he was contemplating new and creative ways of killing the King of Hell. Crowley was more than familiar with that look, too.
Then, Crowley looked at Gail. She was usually good for one, or three. She was currently glaring daggers at Patricia. Interesting. Here the King of Hell was, sitting in Gail's own boardroom seat in Heaven, yet it was Patricia who Gail was looking at with loathing.
"How about you, sweetheart?" he asked her. "Will you partake?"
"Got any ginger ale?" she asked flippantly.
Crowley smirked, waving his hand. A bottle of ginger ale appeared in front of her. "Your wish is my command," he said.
Gail paused. Should she really be contemplating having a drink with the King of Hell in Heaven's boardroom? Then again, look at the kind of day she had just had. And it wasn't as if she had to worry about her reputation here any longer. So she rose from her chair, reaching for the decanter and making herself a drink. Then she sat back in her chair, taking a big gulp as Crowley lifted his own glass in salute.
Patricia made a "tsk"-ing sound that reminded Gail of the Heavenly Hostesses, and she rolled her eyes. "Problem, Patricia?" Gail asked.
"You're behaving like common gutter trash," Patricia snapped.
"Wow. Why don't you tell me how you really feel, Patricia?" Gail said sarcastically. "You're not performing for an audience any more, and none of us are required to listen to you here. So why don't you just shut up? Nobody here cares what you have to say."
Crowley was extremely amused now. He hadn't expected to be this entertained here today. "Now, now, to be fair, that's not necessarily true," he said to Gail. "While that is a very fetching dress you have on, Patricia and her power suit just scream 'corporate'. So, Patricia, let me ask your advice. I've been restocking Hell with fresh souls, and now, I'm looking to do some rebranding. I've been attempting to write a Mission Statement, but it's so difficult. As you might imagine, Hell is what we in the Marketing game call a 'hard sell'."
Gail had taken another gulp of her drink, and she swore that she could already feel it going straight to her head. So she quipped, "'Hell: Come for the toil, stay for the torture.'"
Crowley's lips twitched furiously. "You really are going to have to stop being so funny, or you're going to make me lose my fearsome reputation." He looked at Patricia again. "You see, the trouble with rebranding is that people are resistant to change. So, I've had to literally re-brand the people who weren't buying into the program. You know: Ssssss." He made a hissing noise, gesturing.
"Why are you here?" Patricia blurted out. "And how did you get in? Who invited you?"
"No one had to invite me," Crowley said airily. He took a sip of his drink. "As one of the members of the Original Family, I can come here any time I want. I just choose not to. Although I've got to say, ever since Castiel and Gail's wedding night, it's a lot more aesthetically pleasing these days."
Gail rolled her eyes. That was all she needed; another example of her sex life for Patricia to be reminded of. But then, she thought about it some more. She was no longer a candidate, so who cared, really?
"To answer your first question, I'm here on a diplomatic quest," Crowley went on. "Since one of you will be occupying the High Office soon, I thought I would reach out, to find out what all of your philosophies are, vis-a-vis the relationship between our two domains."
"I don't know why you would have to barge in here to do that," Bobby said irascibly. "We're Heaven, you're Hell. We're good, you're bad. All that fancy talk isn't necessary. Things will remain status quo if I'm back in the Office. There. There's some Latin for ya."
Crowley smiled. Bobby. He could always be relied on to boil it down to the bare essentials. Heaven, good. Hell, bad. That was how Bobby saw things, in black and white. But, Hell wasn't black, and Heaven wasn't white any more, was it?
Crowley looked at Cas, sighing. "I don't know if I should even ask YOU. I've heard about that little Academy you've got going. How many soldiers have you trained, and when can I expect them? They say an Army marches on its stomach; I could put out a nice buffet. Lots of flambe, of course."
Gail laughed, and Patricia looked at her, horrified. It was bad enough that the little strumpet was drinking with Crowley, but now she was laughing at his poor excuse for humour, too. It made Patricia sick. This was worse than she had feared. She looked at Castiel. Why didn't he do something? Was it because Crowley was his brother? Or, and this thought was much, much worse, was it because Castiel's wife and Crowley seemed to get along so well? Exactly how much would Castiel be willing to overlook on his wife's behalf?
"I won't be sending any Angels to Hell," Cas told Crowley. "That is, not unless you give me a reason to."
"And what exactly would you consider a reason?" Crowley asked him coolly.
Cas gave him a crooked smile. "Why don't we just leave that a mystery for now?"
Crowley took another sip of his drink, considering what Castiel had just said. He wasn't sure what to make of that response, nor of his Brother's expression. Castiel had that shark-like glint in his eyes now.
Patricia had been looking at the three of them interacting with Crowley, and she was suddenly reminded of a play she had read recently. In order to stop harming herself during the campaign, she had to keep her mind occupied. So she had been visiting the library and checking out classic works of literature to read. She had just finished reading Antony and Cleopatra, and she realized now that Castiel and Gail weren't Bonnie and Clyde, nor were they Romeo and Juliet, although at times they represented themselves as such, probably to garner sympathy from people. But, they were neither of these. They were Antony and Cleopatra.
Antony had been a fierce and feared soldier once, who had neglected his duties to carry on a highly visible love affair with Cleopatra. Oh, why hadn't Patricia thought of this before? She could have used the analogy at the debate. It was a perfect illustration of the couple, and a glaring condemnation of their flaws. Antony had been torn between his sense of duty, and his desire to seek pleasure. Torn between reason, and passion. Cleopatra had once seduced Julius Caesar, who could be represented by Crowley in this situation. Gail had stood up in front of all of Heaven earlier today and alleged that she had only ever had relations with her husband, but all they had was her word for it. Patricia remembered that, back at the time of the tribunal, Xavier had elicited the information that Gail had once briefly been in Crowley's service. She had claimed that it had been against her will, but the two of them were certainly acting very chummy right now, weren't they?
In the play, Cleopatra had delighted in the fact that she had caught Antony, just like a prize fish. That could very well describe Gail, too. In just a few short years, Gail had come out of nowhere to become a contender for the High Office, because she had landed the biggest and most powerful fish that Heaven had had to offer at the time. Cleopatra had seemed to favour drama, and her expressions were often theatrical. Look at all of the things Castiel and Gail had been involved in, ever since Gail had gotten here. Just look at what had happened at the debate. Now Patricia was wondering if Gail had knocked her notes to the floor on purpose, not only to evoke sympathy from the audience, but also from Castiel. That had certainly been a top-notch performance, hadn't it?
Cleopatra had genuinely loved Antony, even though her loyalty had sometimes been misplaced. For, as flawed as Gail was, Castiel was even more so. Perhaps that was why they had attached themselves to each other so tightly, at times to the exclusion of others. Gail obviously represented to Castiel all of the qualities that Angels had been denied under the ancient laws: enjoyment, playfulness, sexuality, and passion. Of course Castiel would be drawn to those things, like a moth to a flame. He was an Angel, but he was also a man. What man didn't lose his mind when a woman opened her legs willingly to him? Of course, then again, if the man was Lucifer, he didn't even care if the woman was willing. Not that Patricia was calling Castiel Lucifer, of course. Even though she felt absolutely no respect for Castiel, Patricia knew that he was not the sort of man who would force himself on a female. But then again, why would he have to, when Gail was offering her modesty up to him so freely?
On second thought, perhaps Crowley represented Octavius from the play, the man who placed political expediency over family loyalty. Like Octavius, Crowley had begun his career as one of the lowly. A rank-and-file Demon. But he had been ruthlessly ambitious on his way to the throne. It would appear that nothing existed for him now except for the single-minded goal of maintaining the power he already had, and making sure his Kingdom thrived. Octavius had been the antithesis of Antony, just as Crowley was the antithesis of Castiel. At one point, when Castiel had been a warrior, it had seemed as if his hunger for power would continue unchecked. But then, he had become involved with the Winchesters, and then with Gail, and his hunger for love had started to outweigh his hunger for power. That must be why Castiel surrounded himself with so many acolytes.
Crowley, on the other hand, had no friends, nor would a man like him want any. He and Castiel would never be able to completely trust each other, even when they were erstwhile allies. But, just as Crowley was a necessary counterpoint to whomever ended up occupying the High Office, Octavius had been vital to that play. Without him, Antony and Cleopatra would not have been perceived nearly as virtuous as they were, in Patricia's opinion.
And the parallels didn't end there. Antony and Octavius were descended from an ancient and highly regarded Roman family; Castiel and Crowley had been members of God's First Family. From what Patricia remembered of the play, Antony had been a rather shiftless individual when he had been younger, but he had also been generous in nature, with an easygoing personality. That didn't seem to describe the Castiel that Patricia was familiar with, but perhaps his time in the military had hardened him. So he had risen through the ranks, by fair and by foul means. But then God had seen fit to deploy Castiel to Hell to pull Dean Winchester out, and that had been a game-changer for the Angel. Heaven had been white and sterile, and the Angels had all followed orders unquestioningly. By contrast, Earth sparkled with colour, and sensuality. It was a feast for the senses. Even Patricia had seen the potential allure when she'd made her brief visits there. But Castiel had fallen head over heels with the pleasures of Earthly living, and then, when he had met Gail, she had been the last piece of the puzzle.
In the play, Antony was sometimes troubled because he was torn between his love and his duty. His impulsiveness, and his hesitance to make decisions, because they might be the wrong ones, made the character appear weak, but he was not nearly as weak as he might seem, in Patricia's opinion. She wondered if Castiel was the same way. It was unfortunate that she didn't know his personality better, in a way. Of course, that hadn't stopped Patricia from making up all kinds of wild insinuations about him, had it? But it seemed to her that Castiel had a strange sort of dichotomy about him. He appeared to her to be both insecure and overconfident, at the same time. Odd.
Bobby represented the character of Lepidus, the older individual who served as the balance between Octavius and Antony, because neither of them considered him a real threat to them. Both Castiel and Crowley were able to dominate them in their own way, because they outranked Bobby, both in powers, and in God's hierarchy.
And Dean Winchester was the real-life representation of the character of Enobarbus in the play. Enobarbus was Antony's most devoted friend. In fact, he was so loyal that he often took Antony's part when no one else would. He had felt free to say anything to Antony, including the harshest of criticisms, even though Antony could have given the order to have him slain at any time. There were also eerie parallels between those men's relationship in the play, and Castiel and Dean's relationship in real life. Castiel could technically obliterate Dean with a wave of his hand, if he so chose. Yet, Enobarbus was the voice of reason whenever Antony's sense of reason had deserted him, and Dean Winchester pretty much served that same function for Castiel, as far as Patricia could tell. Perhaps that was why Castiel kept him around. Although the Angel professed his love for his human friend, Patricia had a hard time seeing it, herself. Humans were like pets, in her opinion. But some people were blinded by their love for their pets too, weren't they?
With some alarm, Patricia realized that they were all looking at her now. Had she spoken aloud, perhaps? She was aware that she did that sometimes, though she was trying her best to control it. Everyone woolgathered from time to time, but only crazy people talked out loud to themselves.
"Are you all right, dear lady?" Crowley asked Patricia with amusement.
"What? Yes. Why?" she said, shaking herself out of her reverie.
"Because you were saying something about how Antony was blinded by his passion for Cleopatra," Crowley said, smirking.
"Oh, I loved that play," Gail piped up. She had finished her first drink, and was now well into her second one. Bobby was looking at her curiously, but he said nothing. After the kind of day that she and Cas had just had at Patricia's hands, Gail was certainly entitled to blow off a little steam, in his opinion. And she had resigned from the campaign anyway, so did it really matter?
"'Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love'," Cas quoted aloud. All heads swiveled to look at him now. Gail smiled. She loved it when Cas quoted Shakespeare. He didn't do that nearly enough, in her opinion. Although this probably wasn't the most optimal time and place for it, either. She would have to ask him to repeat that, when the two of them were alone together.
Crowley ignored Cas. He started to wonder if all of these Angels weren't currently off their nut. Must have been a hard day at the office. "I was asking you, Patricia, what you feel the relationship between our realms would be if you were to attain the High Office? I must confess that I know nothing about you, personally. Therefore, I'm simply attempting to suss out what form your leadership might take," the King said.
Patricia was indignant. "Of course you know nothing about me personally! How dare you! We will have no type of relationship! Absolutely none. If I am elected, we will go about our business, and you can go about yours. But don't presume to know me, or try to act familiar with me. You may share some kind of unholy symbiosis with your brother and his wife, or even with Bobby, but you don't with me, and you never will. You men are all alike. You think you can just barge in here, and make us bend to your will. Well, you can forget it."
Crowley looked at her incredulously. That had been a bit more rant-y than he'd been expecting. He was starting to get the feeling that it was Patricia who was batcrap crazy, and the others were simply reacting to her particular affliction. On the other hand, she was saying what he wanted to hear. If she wanted to sit back in her ivory tower and pretend that he and his denizens didn't exist, that was just fine with him.
Crowley looked at Gail. "And you, sweetheart? What say you?"
"I say you don't need to worry about what I think," she responded, shrugging. "I'm no longer a candidate."
Crowley was genuinely surprised. "Really?" he said. "When did that happen? And, more importantly, WHY did it happen?" Secretly, a part of him had been pulling for Gail. He would certainly have enjoyed the Summit meetings a lot more. If they could ditch her sourpuss of a husband, that was. Castiel appeared to be flexing his blade hand now.
"Ask Patricia," Gail said tartly. "She seems to think that the job would interfere with my very promising career in the field of prostitution."
For a moment, Crowley was absolutely flummoxed. He had to hand it to Gail. It wasn't very often that anyone made him feel that way. But then, he put his mind to it, as one would work out a math problem. Gail never spoke in non sequiturs; rather, her comments were normally designed to hit the centre of the dartboard. Suddenly, Crowley's mind's eye could picture exactly how today's leadership debate had gone. Bobby had been both folksy and straightforward, while Patricia had gone into character assassination mode, skewering Castiel and Gail by referring to Castiel's less-than-stellar record during the Angel Wars. Then the woman had moved on to Gail, making snide remarks about Gail's virtue. Castiel would have stoically borne the insults that Patricia had hurled at him, but once she'd turned her venom on his wife, Castiel would have had a dilemma. He could hardly have used his usual go-to, not in front of all of Heaven. His go-to was usually anger, and threats, at the bare minimum. But if Castiel hoped to project a kinder, more benevolent persona to Heaven, which it would appear that he did, then he could hardly have stood there in that very public forum and threated to run a fellow candidate through with his blade, could he? So, he would have to have withstood Patricia calling his sainted wife a trollop in front of all of Heaven. But Gail would have felt no such compunctions. She had probably unleashed her tart tongue on Patricia, and then thought better of it, realizing that her animosity would likely reflect badly upon her husband. So then, rather than risk a repeat, Gail had metaphorically fallen on her own Angel blade and resigned from her own campaign in order to save her husband's.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Crowley said to Gail. "I was looking forward to the most entertaining Summit meetings I've ever had."
"Since you're so full of questions, I've got one for you," Gail said, waving her drink in her hand. Crowley smirked. The Angel Gail was tipsy. This was hilarious. Oh, the fun they could have had.
"Yes?" Crowley said pleasantly.
"What do you know about my father?" she asked him bluntly.
She'd gotten him again. Her question was so out of the blue that Crowley's mouth fell open, but no words came out.
"Maybe this isn't the best moment to bring that up," Bobby ventured, and Gail looked at him. "You're probably right, but I know he knows something that he's not telling me, and I'm fed up with it," she said irritably.
Crowley had regained his equilibrium now, and he looked at Gail coolly. "Allow me to quote from that book you Angels seem to put so much stock in: 'You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father's desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, and he has nothing to do with the truth, because there is no truth in him'."
They all stared at him for a moment, and then Patricia said, "I don't know how you have the nerve to sit there and quote the Bible to us. You, of all people!"
Crowley shrugged. "I don't know why everyone is so surprised whenever I quote from the Bible. I'm in it, you know. In the First Act, too. That's when they introduce all the really important characters."
Gail was angry now, but she was also afraid. "'Your will is to do your father's desires'?" she repeated. "What the hell kind of crack is that? What's that supposed to mean?"
"You'll find out," Crowley said enigmatically. "Let that be a lesson to you: never ask the question, if you don't want the answer."
"But you didn't GIVE me an answer!" she wailed. "I know you're sitting in Heaven right now, but you're the last person I expected to give me an Angel type of answer."
Crowley gave her an insincere smile. "What can I say? I assimilate easily. You have to develop a thicker skin, sweetheart. You'll need it, if you hope to stand up to that father of yours. I'm the King of Hell, but I have to admit, he frightens me a little bit."
Gail saw red. She grabbed her drink and stood from her chair. "Maybe YOU need to develop a thicker skin!" she shouted at Crowley. "That way, when Cas stabs you with his blade, it won't hurt as much!" She leaned forward and threw her drink in Crowley's face.
He spluttered, blinking his eyes. He hadn't seen THAT coming, either. But he was smirking, nonetheless. Gail. She was one of a kind. If any of his subjects had tried that, they would be boiled in oil for weeks. But she was just too much of a good time for him to harm. He took the handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped his face with it.
"You need to leave, now," Cas said to Crowley in his quiet voice. "My blade doesn't care how thick your skin is. I've had a very trying day. Do not test me."
Crowley took his time with the handkerchief. He'd been considering telling them what Lucifer had said about what he'd done to Patricia. That little fact may or may not have changed the dynamic between the four Angels. But his Brother was issuing his usual threats, Gail was apparently teetering on the brink of hysteria, and Patricia had pretty much told Crowley what he'd wanted to hear. What did Crowley care? Let them find out for themselves how crazy Patricia was. If she was able to be a thorn in Castiel's side in the meantime, so much the better.
"Good luck in your election," Crowley said, but it was unclear who he was talking to. Maybe he was simply talking to Heaven, in general. Then he snapped his fingers and disappeared.
Sam was reading the newly-acquired journal pages in their motel room as Dean flipped the remote from station to station on the TV. He was doing it half-heartedly, though, because what Sam was telling him was way more interesting than anything that was on TV.
"Yeah. Oliver was Gail's uncle," Sam confirmed aloud. "That's kind of freaky. That one time I took her there, way back when, they didn't seem to get along at all. It was weird."
"OK, so he's her uncle. But, neither of them knew it at the time. Right?" Dean asked.
"Apparently," Sam replied, nodding.
"Yeah, that's weird, all right," Dean agreed. "So, what's the deal with the brothers? We've got Oliver, the crazy guy Andy, who they shipped off to the funny farm, and the psycho, Vincent. What happened after they were kids?"
"Andy spent about a decade in an institution," Sam replied, glancing at the pages. "Then they released him, after giving him some meds. He went back to the house, but there was a new family living there. Then he tracked down Oliver, somehow. Oliver was married by then, and guess who he was married to?"
"Who?" Dean asked.
"Cathy Scanlon," Sam said. Dean looked at him blankly. "Cathy!" Sam said impatiently. "From that so-called fertility clinic!"
"Oh," Dean said. "OK. So, what about Vincent?"
"They didn't know. He'd disappeared," Sam replied. "And it doesn't say what happened to the parents, either." He frowned. "There isn't much here to work with, but there's something about this that's bugging me."
"What's that, Sammy?" Dean asked, taking a swig of his beer.
"When Oliver died, he was a crotchety old guy," Sam remarked.
"So?"
"So, when we went to Cathy's office, we spent a few minutes with her," Sam replied. "So did Jody, and so did Cas and Gail."
"What's your point?" Dean asked him, puzzled.
"She's a youngish woman, Dean," Sam said earnestly. "She looks like she's in her thirties. So unless she's got one hell of a beauty regimen, how could she have been married to Oliver, thirty years ago?"
Dean was startled. He didn't know. "Are you sure that's the same woman, then?" he asked his brother.
"Pretty sure. It's all here. Cathy Scanlon, holistic medicine. Dammit. I wish there was more here. As it is, I'm not gonna bug Gail with this. There's really no new information, and the election is coming up fast."
Dean frowned. He knew. That was the thing that had been bugging him the most. He'd been wanting to pick up the phone so many times and ask Cas how it was going, but they were so close to the big day now that he figured he'd better not. The outcome of that election was way too important to them all to risk distracting Cas now. He got up and got another beer from the mini-fridge.
Cathy's hands were shaking. Vincent had finally shown up with her special drink, and not a moment too soon. Her skin was cracked and wrinkled, her hands were all vein-y, and her hair had turned white.
"Looks like someone forgot to apply moisturizer this morning," Vincent quipped. Cathy reached for the shake eagerly, but Vincent kept it just out of reach. "Have you had any visitors lately?" he asked her.
"None from the list you gave me," she told him. "Please, Vincent. I need my drink."
"Ask me again," he said, smiling.
"Please, Vincent, I'm begging you," Cathy moaned.
"I love it when they beg," he commented. He handed her the beverage. "There was a time when you used to beg me for a lot of things, remember?"
Cathy's stomach churned, but she was too busy sucking on the straw to reply. This had been a little closer than she liked to cut it. But she hadn't dared push Vincent, or he might not show up at all. The more years that passed, the more dependent on his special milkshake she became.
"'My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard'," Vincent sang atonally. "Suck on that straw, Cathy. If you weren't such an old hag, I'd have you suck on something else. Just like the old days."
Cathy finished the drink, putting the cup down on her desk. "You're almost as old as I am," she said mildly.
"Yeah, but I'm gorgeous," Vincent said cheerfully. Then his expression grew serious. "Make sure you do what I want when I want, 'Sis'," he said darkly. "Otherwise, it's bye-bye Youth Shake. Then you'll wither up and die an agonizing, painful death. Up to you."
Cathy frowned. "Don't I always do what you say?" she said, trying not to raise her voice. "Ever since I met you, I've been doing whatever you say. I sacrificed my marriage for you."
"Oh, don't give me that," Vincent scoffed. "You and Oliver wouldn't have lasted, even if I hadn't come along. My humourless, lemon-faced brother? Who the hell would want to wake up to THAT every day? At least I gave you a couple of good sack sessions."
"I wish you'd given me a baby," Cathy grumbled. "Then at least I would have gotten something out of that whole disaster."
Vincent's eyes flashed, and then they turned almost black. "What was that?" he asked her. "What did you just say to me?"
Crap, Cathy thought. She hadn't meant to say that. But she was riding the high from the milkshake now. She didn't know exactly what he put in it, but whenever she drank one, she was so exhilarated for the next hour or so that she felt almost invincible. But she had forgotten herself for a moment. "Nothing," she said hastily. "I said nothing."
"That's what I thought," Vincent said, nodding. He knew how the shake affected her by now, but that was a sore spot for him, and the little bitch knew it, too. Out of all the women he'd taken to bed, she was the only one he hadn't been able to knock up. The only one. She had wanted a kid when she was married to Oliver, but Vincent's brother had told her to forget it. He didn't want some snot-nosed little rug rat running around the house. Even back then, his brother had been a curmudgeon in the making. So one night when Vincent had visited the house and Oliver had been out, Cathy had lamented to Vincent that his brother refused to impregnate her. Vincent had smiled. He could help her with that. She'd been reluctant at first, but he had charmed her, and then he had seduced her. But incredibly, she had not caught pregnant. That had never happened to him before. So he had screwed her several more times, just because he was stubborn that way, but no bun, no oven. That woman had to be the most barren woman in the universe. Pretty much all Vincent had to do to get a woman pregnant was to look at her. He couldn't understand it. But, no matter. He'd moved on from her after Oliver had caught them on the couch at his house that last time. And the hell of it was, Oliver hadn't even seemed surprised. But he had kicked Cathy out, telling her he wanted a divorce. Vincent had actually been impressed by that; it had been the only time in recent memory his brother had shown any balls. But Oliver hadn't chastised Vincent, of course. He had known better than that.
Anyway, the fault obviously lay with Cathy, not with him. Needy bitch. She had probably sucked all the mojo right out of him. She'd thought that she and Vincent would be setting up housekeeping after she'd packed her bags. Yeah, right. He had an army to create, and if Cathy couldn't conceive, she was useless to him. But then he'd realized that she could be of some use to him, after all. When she'd been making all those baby noises, Cathy had mentioned that she wanted to specialize in fertility, to help people achieve their own dreams of having a baby. So he had come up with the idea of bringing her his unwanted progeny. She could sell them off, keeping a healthy cut for herself. It was a win-win. The only condition he'd placed on their agreement was that she'd better not keep any of those babies for herself. If she agreed to his terms, he would bring her a special drink at regular intervals, which would keep her young while everyone else, including Oliver, aged. And wouldn't that be the ultimate middle finger to the guy who had booted her out of his house with only a couple of suitcases filled with clothes to her name?
So Cathy had agreed to his terms, and they had begun their uneasy alliance. Vincent had moved on, impregnating women right and left, as if to prove a point. Then, he had started experimenting. He'd slept with different types of women, just to see what would come out. He'd knocked up Gail's mother, Abigail, just to see what kind of kid they could produce with their unique powers. And even though Abigail had been borderline crazy, the kid they'd produced had turned out pretty good. When Vincent had seen Gail heal her childhood friend Liz that day on the playground, he'd known that he was onto something.
But, human women took nine months to gestate. There had to be a more efficient way. So he had experimented a number of years later by denying himself for a couple of weeks, and then he had made a woman pregnant with twins. He'd only done that once before, centuries ago, when he had travelled back in time. But he didn't bother with time travel any more. Modern times were good enough for him, and his best time was still to come. Anyway, the modern woman that he had put the twins into had had two boys. One had been Robbie, the one with the fairly impressive psychic gift, and the other was Eric, who had been sold separately to a family that currently lived in Jacksonville, Florida. Eric wasn't one bit psychic, but he had recently discovered that he could teleport. He was a teenager now, as was his twin brother Rob, and Eric's little talent came in very handy when he'd wanted to go out past curfew.
Vincent was on the fence about whether it was better to father twins, who only had one ability each in concentrated form, or one child who had multiple abilities, as Gail had been. So he'd tried both flavours. He had also fathered multiple kids with no special abilities at all. But, they would all come when he called, if he called. He'd made sure of that.
"Call me if anyone comes snooping," he snapped. Then he vanished from Cathy's office.
Two days before the election, Gail, Liz and Riley were in Cas's campaign office, checking Riley's spreadsheets.
"Is there any group we haven't reached out to, yet?" Gail was asking Riley now. "Anyone?"
He was running a finger down the list. "I don't see anyone we've missed."
"Holy moly," Liz breathed in astonishment. "I know we don't sleep, but you guys are going to need to take a vacation after this thing is over. I've never seen two people work this hard in my entire life. Whoops, I mean 'existence', I guess." She giggled.
"Cas and I have to thank you guys and the whole team for all of your hard work," Gail commented.
"Yeah, thanks for coming over and helping us, Liz," Riley added.
"Well, when Gail quit, I wanted to help her get Cas elected," Liz said. "It's just too bad Scott couldn't be here, too. You'd think his supervisor could have extended his leave of absence just a couple more weeks, until after the election."
That had been Scott's excuse anyway, and no one had questioned it. There was no way he was going to waste his energy getting that arrogant bastard elected. There would be nothing in it for Scott, nothing at all. Scott was still helping Gail with her job on the board, and the few times Cas had seen Scott around Gail since she'd quit the campaign, Cas had eyed Scott with suspicion, even though the young Angel had been totally respectful. Scott was still on the fence about Gail. He had admired her spirit at the debate, and he had laughed and laughed when she had given Patricia that sass. But Cas was another story. He hadn't even had the good sense to resign from the campaign after Patricia had unmasked him as a racist at the debate. Public sentiment had turned sharply against Castiel after the playing of that tape, and there had been so many Angels coming in and out of Patricia's office requesting transcripts of his tribunal that she'd had staff members working around the clock to provide them. Everything had been coming up Patricia at that point.
But then, a funny thing had happened. Gail, Liz and Riley had all gotten together and drafted an open letter, explaining the context in which Cas had made that disgusting tape and signed that revolting oath. They had posted the letter all over Heaven, sent it around in a mass e-mail, and slipped it under the doors of all the residences, using Chuck's census database as a guide. Then, Gail had gotten a couple of Angels who knew the technology to do a podcast, sending that to everyone's computers, too. In it, she and Cas had appeared together, holding hands and pleading his case. After that, amazingly, Cas's numbers had started to rise again. And this past week before the election, Ethan had volunteered to take over the Academy so that Cas could work 24/7, reaching as many Angels personally as he could. So, even though his poll numbers weren't as robust as they had been before the debate, Castiel had bounced back as far as could be expected.
Cas came walking into the campaign office now, and everyone stopped what they were doing and applauded him. He gave them all a faint smile. They did that every time now, and it both touched him and embarrassed him, at the same time. "Thank you," he said. "And thank you for all of your hard work. Gail and I appreciate each and every one of you, very much." He moved forward and put his arm around Gail, giving her a squeeze.
"We'll have a big party after the election is over, to thank you all properly," Gail added, smiling. "It's too bad we don't eat, but I'll get a boom box, and we can dance. Maybe we'll do karaoke. I might even get a punch bowl, and then spike the punch. It'll be fun."
They all laughed. There were a couple of Angels who had defected from Patricia's campaign after the debate, and Cas's subsequent explanation of the tape, who had been disgusted by Patricia's tactics, and they laughed the hardest at what Gail said. How their former boss would hate that. They were very glad they'd made the move. Everybody was so happy here. They all worked very long hours, but nobody complained, because they all believed in Cas. If all of the Angels in Heaven could only see how he was here in this office, they would never doubt him. He was patient and kind with each and every Angel who worked so tirelessly on his behalf, and his love for his wife was apparent in everything he said and did. Every time he entered the room, his eyes would search for her, and his face would light up when he saw her. Then he would head straight for her, as if he would be unable to breathe until he was by her side, kissing her, or holding her hand.
"I'm here to make an announcement," Cas said to everyone. "I'm requesting all of you to take the rest of the day off."
"What?" Riley exclaimed. "What are you talking about?"
"Just what I said," Cas said calmly. "My wife has been working way too hard on my behalf. We even missed our wedding anniversary, because we were both on the campaign trail at that time. It's been bothering me ever since. That was a month ago, and depending upon the way things go here in the next couple of days, I may not get the opportunity to take her on the date I have planned today. Therefore, I'm spiriting her down to Earth for the day, and authorizing all of you to take the rest of the day off. It's not fair for you to work, if we're not working."
"That's sweet, Cas, but I'm going to stay, anyway," Liz said.
"Me, too," Riley said firmly. "But you two go ahead. Relax."
"Are you sure?" Gail asked Cas's young assistant. "I thought you'd be freaking out."
"No. I'm not gonna freak out any more," Riley assured her. "We want Cas to be relaxed and happy. You guys have done everything you could do, and more. Let us take it from here, and we'll see you tomorrow."
Gail smiled at her husband. "I say we run for it, before he changes his mind."
Cas winked the two of them to their house on Earth. "I have a couple of surprises for you," he told her. "First, Frank is hosting a small anniversary party for us, at his and Jody's house. It'll just be them, Rob, and Sam and Dean. Jody didn't want to take Angela anywhere just yet. She's still so small. Apparently, she needs to be fed multiple times a day. So they'll have a small get-together for us there, and then I'm going to take you away for our date."
"That sounds wonderful, Cas," she said happily. "But are you sure you're OK about taking the day off so close to the election?"
"Riley was right," Cas responded. "We've done everything we can possibly do. So, rather than pace the floor nervously in Heaven with nothing to do, I thought that we would come here, instead. Besides, I meant what I said: I felt very badly that we did not celebrate our wedding anniversary. It's the most important day on the calendar."
Gail smiled. "I agree. But if we're going to Frank's, why did you wink us here, first?"
"I wanted to give you the first of two gifts I have for you," Cas told her.
Gail's heart sank. "Cas! I didn't get you anything! You should have said something!"
"I believe the definition of 'surprise' suggests that I should NOT have told you," Cas said, smiling playfully.
Gail swatted him lightly. "You know what I mean. I would have liked to have gotten YOU something, too."
"Well, this gift is mutual, really," Cas told her. "If you're ready, let's sit down on the couch, and then we'll begin."
"Oooh," she said, raising her eyebrow. "That's fine with me, but would you rather just go straight to the bedroom?"
Cas laughed softly. "Oh, we'll be doing that, too, don't you worry. But, for the moment, I had something else in mind. Here. Come."
He took her hand and led her over to the couch. They sat down together, and Cas said, "I'm going to put my hand on your head, and I'd like you to put yours on mine. That will allow us to search each others' minds. This is not intended to be an invasion of your privacy. If there is anything you would like kept to yourself, you need simply lock that room." He smiled. "But just so you know, my doors will all remain unlocked. We can go wherever you want in the time I have allotted, but as this is for our anniversary, I'm hoping we can concentrate on the most important and romantic moments we have had together."
Gail was puzzled. "That sounds wonderful, Cas, but how would it work, exactly?"
"Follow my lead," he told her. "You'll see."
She nodded. "OK, Cas."
He put his hand gently on her forehead, and she did the same with him. "Close your eyes," Cas said softly. "Concentrate."
Gail did, and after a few minutes, she found herself standing in the bunker's library. She and Cas were holding hands, and they were watching as Sam typed away on his laptop. Gail could see herself sitting at the table beside him, and she looked up at Cas questioningly. "Is this...?"
"Our first meeting, of course," he said, smiling. "Everything that follows begins here, wouldn't you agree?"
She would, but this was just so surreal, watching herself like this. "I feel like the Ghost of Christmas Past, or something," Gail quipped nervously. "Hopefully, Sam and Dean don't see us, and go for the salt."
"They can't see us," Cas said calmly, with a little smile. "These are our memories, and ours, alone."
Suddenly, they heard the metal door to the bunker clang shut, and Cas started to descend the steps, moving slowly. The Gail who was sitting at the table looked at him and said aloud, "This is their friend? He looks like he should be in the hospital. Actually, he looks like death warmed over."
Gail looked up at her husband, astonished. "That's what I was thinking. But I didn't say it out loud."
"I know," he acknowledged. "But the beauty of being in each others' minds is that we can each hear what the other was thinking at the time."
The Cas who had just come down the stairs stopped short when he saw Gail sitting at the table. "This must be the girl whose brother has been abducted," he said aloud. "At least, I'm pretty sure that is what Dean said happened. If I could only get some rest. I'm so tired all the time. Just look at her. She looks so sad. She's got beautiful eyes. I wonder if either Sam or Dean will want to date her. I hope not." Then he looked puzzled. "Why did I say that?"
Gail smiled as her husband said softly, "I thought that, because I was interested in dating you, myself. But I could not say it out loud, of course. At that point, I was just so consumed by my illness. I knew that I had nothing to offer you, because I was dying."
Then Mind Gail said, "I have to find out what's wrong with him. Sam and Dean don't even seem to notice. Maybe they're used to seeing him this way, but he looks really sick to me. I've got to come up with a way to touch him, somehow. Then, I can be sure."
Before present-day Gail could come up with a suitable quip about finding an excuse to touch him, Mind Cas said, "She's staring at me. I must look terrible. I wish I had the energy to clean myself up for her."
Gail smiled again. He had been so cute, even back then. Now that she knew everything would work out all right, she was able to just drink in the experience. What a wonderful and unique way of being able to re-live your best memories with the one you loved.
Mind Gail walked around the table and tripped herself. Mind Cas caught her, and she spoke again, detailing everything she was picking up from him. "I've got to heal him," she said aloud. "But, how?"
"See? You cared about me, even back then," Cas said happily.
"Of course I did," Gail responded. "I couldn't bear to see you so sick."
"Where do you want to go next?" Cas asked her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll leave it up to you. You're driving the bus, so to speak."
So she winked them to Cas's room in the bunker, where they watched Mind Gail give him the glass of water to drink.
"If he doesn't drink that in the next ten seconds, I'm gonna pour it down his throat," Mind Gail fretted.
Mind Cas was holding the glass of water, smiling gently at Mind Gail. "She's so sweet. So caring," he said. "It can't possibly work, but I know she means well. She looks so upset, though. I'll drink it, if only to make her happy."
"You WERE humouring me!" Gail said to her husband. "That's what I thought. But at that point, I didn't care. I was fairly confident it would work, but I just had to get you to take it."
"Of course I was going to take it," Cas teased her, smiling. "How on earth could I resist the doe eyes?"
She started to make a retort, but he was looking at her so charmingly that she relented. His eyes were sparkling now. "I'm glad you chose to come here," he said to her. "You're going to want to hear what happens next."
After Mind Cas drank the water and thanked her, Mind Gail left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Mind Cas looked at the closed door. "I love you for caring so much about me," he murmured. "I love YOU." Then he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
"I already loved you then," Cas said to her now. "And as soon as I fell asleep, the cure started to do its work. And you'll never guess what I dreamed about."
"What?" she asked him, smiling. She was completely enthralled now.
"Come on. I'll show you," he said. He led her by the hand over to the bed where the Angel Castiel slept. Cas put his hand on his own forehead, and since he was still holding her hand in his, her hand was by extension on the sleeping Castiel's forehead, too.
Gail was plunged into Castiel's dream with her husband. Just when she thought things couldn't get any more surreal, now she and Cas were standing off to the side of an altar in a church, and their dream counterparts were at the altar, getting married.
She looked at her husband in astonishment. "No way," she said.
Cas was smiling shyly. "I'm surprised I didn't just stay in bed the next morning. It was the most wonderful dream I'd ever had. But it seemed like just a fantasy to me. I never imagined that you would love me back. I never imagined that you might ever feel the same way."
She touched his face. "I already loved you then, too. I just didn't want to admit it to myself. You were an Angel, and I was a human. I thought you were way too good for me."
Cas smiled. "Isn't that funny? I've always thought that it was the other way around. I still do, in fact. Where do you want to go now?"
Chronologically speaking, there was only one answer to that. There had been all kinds of little moments here and there as the two of them had gradually fallen deeper and deeper in love, but their first time in Las Vegas as humans had been the dawn of their physical relationship. Gail winked them to their hotel room at the Rio, where they watched themselves sitting and talking on the couch in their room. Mind Cas made his halting admission that he had never had a relationship with a woman before, physical or otherwise. He said aloud, "I'm afraid I won't be very good. But, whatever happens, please don't give up on me. I'm willing to learn. You are my person, and my entire existence will be dedicated to loving you, and making you happy."
Mind Gail said, "I've got no experience with these kinds of things. I hope I don't disappoint you. I've never been with a man, but, let's face it, you've also been waiting a lot longer than me. I'm trying not to think about that, though. I'm already so nervous, as it is. But the bottom line is that I love you. I love it when you kiss me, and I love it when you touch me. We'll figure the rest out, together."
Then Mind Cas started to kiss Mind Gail, and as things started to get passionate, Gail turned to her husband, smiling. "Well, as much as I loved re-living what led up to our first time, I think we'd better leave these two alone," she quipped. "Besides, I'd much rather be doing it than watching it."
"We still have a bit of time," Cas told her as they left the hotel room. "Where would you like to go now?"
Her smile faded. "Nothing around the tribunal, that's for sure. But, I was wondering about something: now that we know the Demon period never happened, do you think we would be able to see things as they truly were at the time?"
Cas was surprised by her question. This was uncharted territory for him. Could they? "I don't know, but we have to try," he said, excited by the prospect.
So they went back to the cabin, and this time, they saw Metatron put his hand on each of their foreheads, modifying their memories. "How could we have missed that?" Gail exclaimed. "Oh, yeah. It was because Jason was torturing the crap out of me at the time, and Aurielle was so busy trying to be your next girlfriend!"
Cas frowned. He was watching intently now. All of the subsequent events in the cabin unfolded as he had remembered, but what he was really interested in seeing were the events which had occurred afterwards.
So was Gail. She endured watching the terrible events that had happened in the cabin again, just so she could get to the payoff. And, sure enough, when their friends got there, Crowley took all of his essence back, and Cas did kiss her. But there was no inappropriate behaviour, and there was no argument.
Then, Gail took them back to the bunker, where they shared hugs all around, one of the biggest ones coming from Frank. Neither Gail nor Cas argued with her brother there either, because there had been nothing to argue about. Cas had had absolutely no Demon left in him, and his eyes were blue, and sparkling. Frank had thanked Cas for taking such good care of his sister, and Cas had nearly cried with relief that Frank was accepting him as a future brother-in-law.
"Cas..." Gail started to say, but her throat was closing now and her eyes pooled with tears.
He didn't trust himself to speak, either. He winked them both over to the house they'd had at the time, the house they'd thought of as a house of horrors. But, none of it had happened. None of it. They saw themselves happily cohabiting there. They did make love very often, but Cas was always gentle, and loving. And as his confidence in that area grew, he was able to be a little more aggressive with her at times, if they both wanted it to be that way. But there were no bruises, and there was no pain, and there was certainly not any blood.
"I've been thinking," Cas said softly, as they watched him making love to her on the couch. "I wondered so many times why we'd thought that I had actually hungered for your blood. I believe I might have an answer for that, now."
She looked at him, curious. She had wondered that same thing herself. Even if Cas HAD been a Demon, that predilection had been so unlike anything she knew about him that they should have known something was terribly wrong.
"I didn't find out what the actual method was that you used to restore my Grace when we first met, until you testified at the tribunal," Cas told her soberly. "My subconscious mind obviously associated your blood with the intense love that I felt for you."
She was taken aback for a moment. "That's both the sweetest, and the grossest, thing I've ever heard," she quipped. "But since it's coming from you, I'll allow it."
They began to fast-forward to various significant points they both remembered from during that time. There had never been any injections, or any cruelty. Gail and Jody actually had gone clothes shopping, but all that had happened on that day was the trying on of a few outfits and then the excursion to the bar, where they'd begun to bond as friends, and potential sisters-in-law.
There had never been any bruises, so there had never been any fights with Sam and Dean, or Frank. Frank had gone back out on the road, not to get away from her and Cas, but because that was what he did. They had ended up living in the bunker, not because Gail needed to be protected from Cas, but because those youths had snuck into their house to make crystal meth and blown it up in the process, as Bobby had previously advised.
Both Angels were crying now. It was one thing to be told that these things had never happened, but it was quite another to see it with your own eyes. What they were seeing now was merely a couple who were deeply in love. They loved each other, and their friends and family loved them, and vice versa. And that was it. End of story. But then, because they had both been mired in the depths of Metatron's modification, Cas had left the bunker one night, explaining to Gail in a note that he could no longer bear the fact that he was causing her so much pain. After a while, he had come back, because he also couldn't bear to be away from her. But then, after their minds had manufactured a nonexistent cure for him, she had ordered Cas to leave, and he'd had no choice but to go. The two of them could never have stayed apart, though. They loved each other far too much for that. Their love was so strong that they'd actually created an imaginary cure for an imaginary disease, just to find a way to be together.
Gail winked them back to the present, and as they took their hands away from each other's foreheads, she flung herself into his arms. They cried together for a good long time; mostly happy tears, but there were also tears of sadness, and regret.
When they were just about cried out, Gail extricated herself gently from their embrace. "Thank you, Cas. That was the most wonderful gift I could ever have received."
He gave her a tremulous smile. "I fear I have been unfair," he said. The strong emotions he was feeling had caused him to revert to a formal way of speaking. "This gift has been of great value to me, as well. Arguably, even more so. I was not a monster, and I didn't hurt you."
"I'm sorry, Cas. I'm so sorry," she said softly.
"No, my darling. Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for," he said firmly. "But, just so you know, now that we have been in each other's minds, we can go back again, any time we want."
Gail gave him a half-smile. "It was kind of neat to see what was on your mind when we were first getting together. It was so romantic."
"As I was hoping that it would be," Cas said, nodding. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone, dialing Frank's number. He told his brother-in-law they would be there in about an hour, and then he hung up.
Then Cas looked at his wife, raising an eyebrow. "Shall we, my darling?" he asked her.
"Do you even need to ask?" she replied.
He winked her to the bedroom.
"I didn't know what to get you both for your anniversary, so I helped Cas make this," Jody said. She presented Gail with a large white book that looked like a photo album. It had "Wedding Memory Book" on the cover. "I remember you mentioning this to me before, but I'd never heard of such a thing," Gail said to Cas.
"It's an ancient tradition," Cas told her. "What you might call 'Old School', isn't that right, Rob?"
"That's right, Uncle Cas," Rob confirmed. That wasn't exactly true. Nobody really said that any more. But Rob wasn't about to correct him. Ever since Cas and Gail had come here to the house and destroyed the hex bag in that bear, Rob's attitude towards his Uncle Cas had turned completely around.
Gail opened the book, and everyone gathered around to look.
"I'm sorry it's a bit thin, but we'll add things every year, on our anniversary," Cas said.
Most of the entries were photos. The bunker, Sam and Dean, Cas and Gail. Then there was Frank, and Jody, Bobby, the Angels, and Rob. Gail had pretty much expected all of these photos, but there were some surprises, too. There was the white feather that Cas had put in his pocket when he had proposed to her, and there was the garter she had worn at their wedding. Then there were pictures from Frank and Jody's wedding, and their own, of course.
Gail flipped to the last page. She saw the pictures that were posted in it, and she burst out laughing. "What?" Frank said.
"Look!" she said delightedly, turning the book towards him. There were three autographed photos of the actors who played Cas, Dean, and Sam.
"Who are THOSE weirdos?" Sam quipped.
"I don't know, but it's always good to have spare parts, right, Dean?" Frank said, elbowing the elder Winchester.
Dean was smirking. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again: those are some good-looking sons of bitches."
"So, day after tomorrow we're gonna have a new God," Frank remarked. "I hope it's you, Cas. Although Bobby would be OK, too."
"You may think you're getting away with something because it's not going to be me, but just know that if it's Cas, you guys are on my S-list," Gail quipped, closing the book.
"'S-list'? What kind of talk is that for an Angel?" Sam asked her, grinning.
She raised her eyebrows. "It stands for Smite-list, Sam," she said innocently. "I don't know what you were thinking."
They all laughed, and Angela began to cry weakly. Jody had the baby in a bassinet beside the loveseat. Angela had to be fed so often right now that Jody didn't bother making the trek to the new nursery.
"Sorry, Jody," Gail said quickly, but Jody shook her head. "Don't worry about it," she told her sister-in-law, lifting the baby gently. "It's time for her fifteenth feeding this hour, anyway."
"She's taking after her dad, already," Sam said.
"Careful, other Winchester," Frank said to Sam. "Remember, you can be replaced. I just saw it in that book my sister's got. But I, on the other hand, am irreplaceable."
"That's one word for it," Jody said, cradling the baby.
"You're not gonna take your boob out or anything, are you?" Dean said uneasily.
Jody looked at him balefully. "It's called breast-feeding, and it's a natural, beautiful part of life," she reprimanded him. Then she grinned, seeing his look of alarm. "No, I'm not gonna pull my boob out, Dean. How gross would THAT be?"
Rob came into the room, carrying a bottle. "Here you go, Mom," he said. "Sterilized and nuked, for your dining pleasure, Angela."
Gail had to do a double-take. In that moment, Rob had sounded so much like Frank that she'd almost had to check to see if her brother had taken up ventriloquism. As it was, she swore that the two of them were starting to look alike. Which would have been extraordinary, since they were in no way related. Unless you counted by love, that was.
Jody fed Angela from the bottle while everyone else chatted. Rob and Frank put out snacks, and Gail had a glass of wine.
"Angela needs to be changed again," Jody announced. She looked at Dean. "If it's going to gross you out, feel free to leave the room."
He looked at her suspiciously. "Number one, or number two?"
"How about we just leave that as a delightful surprise?" Jody said dryly.
"May I do it?" Cas piped up. "Please?"
Jody looked at him uncertainly. "Have you ever changed a diaper before?"
"Well, no. But I'm fairly certain I can do it," he replied earnestly.
"Let him do it," Frank said to Jody. "Then one day, when Angela is older, we can tell her that God changed her diapers."
"From your lips to...well, Cas's ears," Gail said, her lips twitching.
"We'll have to change all the expressions," Sam said. "'In Cas We Trust'. That one's already true, anyway."
"When you wish somebody luck, you could wish them 'Cas-speed'," Jody added. She was watching their Angel friend like a hawk, but so far, he was doing fine. He'd gotten the diaper off of Angela, and now, he was wiping the baby's behind with the wet wipes Jody kept handy. Gail was watching the operation too, feeling absolutely no need to tell them that she could probably just wave her hand over Angela, and clean the infant instantly. No, it was much more entertaining this way.
"Our Cas, who art in Heaven, get your Godly ass down here," Dean said, smirking.
"I think we'll save that one just for special occasions," Cas said mildly. He was touching Angela's chubby little cheeks now and, incredibly, the baby was smiling. Or maybe not so incredibly, Gail thought. After all, Angela was female, wasn't she?
Then Cas took a fresh diaper from the jumbo pack Jody kept on the floor beside the loveseat. Lots of input led to lots of output. She'd learned that the hard way. Now, Frank had a membership card at one of those bulk places, and he and Rob made regular runs. On the bright side, though, it had been an ideal excuse for Jody to throw away that eyesore of a Hawaiian shirt that Frank had worn during construction of the nursery. Certain stains just didn't wash out. Jody had often thought that there must be a way to market the stains from a baby's diaper as Impressionist Art. She had told Frank this once, and he had laughed so hard that beer had come out of his nose.
"There," Cas said, smiling gently. "All done." Jody looked closely at Angela. The diaper did indeed seem to be on securely, and Angela was still smiling up at Cas.
Cas picked up the dirty diaper. "Where does this go?" he asked Jody.
"Ewwww, Cas, get that away from the food, man," Dean said, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
"What, this?" Cas said innocently, waving the dirty diaper towards Dean. Cas was fighting to keep a straight face. The look of horror on Dean's face was just too funny.
"Count yourselves lucky," Jody said matter-of-factly. She had grabbed a plate and was piling it high. She would have to start working out again soon. At her age, it was going to be harder to bounce back from the baby weight. "You should see some of her diapers. You'd swear she was eating roast beef and potatoes, not just drinking formula."
"Just like her dad," Frank said proudly.
"OK, well, before Frank has the chance to elaborate on that, I think Cas and I had better get going," Gail said. She handed the book to Cas and then made the rounds, giving everyone a big hug and a kiss. Cas followed suit. "'Bye, Angela," Gail said softly, tickling the baby's stomach with her finger. "Hopefully, the next time you see your Uncle Cas, he'll be God."
"Or Bobby will, and you can call him Grandpa God, just like your brother used to do," Frank said, smiling.
"Don't embarrass me, Dad," Rob said, but he smiled at the memory.
"I hate to be a party pooper, but what if Patricia wins?" Jody asked.
"We've agreed not to think about that," Gail replied. "But you'd all better send a lot of positive thoughts our way, because if she does, you may not see us again for a long, long time."
They were all silent for a moment. Then Gail smiled wryly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring the room down. Anyway, my husband's totally going to win." She touched Cas's face. "I mean, look at him. He's adorable. There's no way he's losing. I think we'll have to make sure there's a picture of him in every religious building here on Earth. Every denomination. Attendance at services would rise dramatically. Oh, and that reminds me." She looked at Sam and Dean. "Before we came here, I popped over to the bunker and left you guys a present. It's a souvenir campaign poster of Cas. I expect you to treat it with the proper respect."
The brothers grinned at each other. Oh, they would, all right. Cas and Gail joined hands, and they winked themselves away.