Recipient: evelyncarver (Livejournal Name)

Spoilers: Spoilers for the end of Season 5-Season 8… I think.

A/N: Written for multifan-gift's Xmas exchange. I hope you like what I've made you. I've never written for Charlie before, but it was really fun. Merry Christmas!


S Is for Squee

It was a surprise visit, so Charlie Bradbury was not expecting a crowd to welcome her through the door that went between the world of Oz and the Men of Letters' bunker. But if her expansive knowledge of all sorts of fantasy realms and her time in Oz had taught her anything, it was to expect the unexpected. So, when the large door flung open in front of her, she jumped through with her eyes shut, arms up in the air, and a wide smile on her face.

"Hello, boys—oh," she said, the sentence starting gleefully and ending in a sigh.

As she had originally suspected, there was no one waiting to greet her upon her arrival. She shrugged, taking it all in stride. She pulled the door between worlds shut behind her, stepping cautiously into the rest of the bunker. She surveyed the room, searching for any signs of the Winchesters. If this had been a cartoon, she would've heard a cricket chirping.

"Bad timing, Charlie," she muttered to herself.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans—freshly washed of blood, dirt, and other forms of grime just for the occasion—and decided that she would make herself at home until Sam and Dean returned from wherever they were. She wasn't terribly familiar with the bunker's layout, having only been here the one time, but she remembered it enough to make it back to the main room. She came to a stop at one of the library-style tables that littered the space, glancing about for any sign as to where her friends were at or when they might return. There wasn't even a spec of dirt, let alone a clue to a hunt or a grocery run.

"Neatest boys ever," she muttered, pulling out a chair and taking a seat.

Well, this is what she got for trying to pull a surprise visit. Next time, she would give them ample notice. Though, she wasn't sure quite how to do that anyway. She was pretty sure cell phones didn't work in Oz, and a flying monkey with a letter might distress her two favorite hunters. She would have to ask Dorothy, to whom she had promised she would return to promptly, if she knew of a convenient multi-world messaging device that she could use.

Charlie drummed her fingers on the wooden table, the sound carrying through the room. She sighed. Times like these, she really missed her laptop. She would use the boys', except she was more than a little worried about getting lost trying to find their rooms. This place was much bigger than she had remembered.

"Argh," she groaned, tossing her head back so that her red hair hung down the back of the chair, "so bored!"

As if in response, the door to the bunker opened at the top of the stairs. Charlie grinned, jumping out of her chair and posing in a smaller "ta-da" pose than what she had attempted coming through the door. When the footsteps from the door were not moving fast enough for her liking, she ran to meet the arrival at the foot of the iron stairs.

"Guess who, guys?" she said, glancing up.

But it was not Sam nor Dean she was met with. It was a man in a tanned, long jacket, black pants, and a white button up shirt. His hair was black, slightly messed, and his eyes were a piercing blue. But, more importantly to Charlie at the moment, he was holding a silver dagger right to her face.

"Whoa!" she said, back up a pace or two. "I come in peace."

"Who are you?" the man asked, his voice like polished gravel.

Polished gravel, Charlie thought. She had heard that description of a voice before. She took another good, hard look at the man before her. Then, her eyes widened, nearly popping out of her head.

"You," she muttered, a smile breaking free. "You're Castiel!"

He arched a brow. "Who are you? How do you know me?"

"OMG, I'm right! OMG, you're Cass!" she squealed, no longer immediately concerned with the dagger to her face.

"Who are you?" the angel demanded, stepping forward and bringing the attention back to his angel blade—which Charlie guessed it was.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I'm Charlie. Charlie Bradbury. I don't know if Sam and Dean have mentioned me. I'm the girl that went to Oz with Dorothy. Who helped them with Dick Roman? We LARPed together? Any of this doing anything for you?"

Castiel's eyes narrowed, his blade dropping a bit.

"The lesbian with the Princess Leia tattoo?" he asked.

Charlie clapped once in triumph. "That's the one! Hi! Huge fan," she said, offering a hand to shake.

Castiel shook it, stowing his blade away finally. He glanced around her, looking just as confused as the Supernatural novels often painted him. Charlie's inner squee dampener was slowing losing power.

"Where are Sam and Dean?" he asked.

Charlie shrugged. "Not here. I was going to surprise them with a visit, and then no one was here. They must be on a hunt."

Castiel nodded once. "Most probably."

There was a beat of silence, in which Castiel seemed awkward. Charlie, for her part, was simply bouncing on her toes. Her mind was bursting with questions, ones that the novels hadn't answered. It wasn't often that one got to meet their favorite character in real life, and she knew she could not, not one bit, let this opportunity go to waste. As if reliving their conversation and realizing that part of it had made no sense, the angel finally fixed her with another perplexed look.

"Did you say you were a… fan?" he asked.

Charlie nodded, moving to take a seat back at one of the tables. Castiel followed, taking a seat at the end of the one Charlie was at.

"Yeah. You were my favorite character in the Supernatural novels. You were just so… mysterious. Well, that and there were very few hot girls that lived in the stories. In fact, I don't think any have lived."

She pondered on this for a moment, and catching a horrified look from the angel, she gasped.

"I'm sorry! Sometimes I forget those novels happened to you guys. So, so sorry for your losses."

"That's… okay. I'm afraid that I'm still a little… unclear. I was your favorite?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

Charlie laughed. "Why not? You were so awkwardly funny in basic human situations, always a plus. But you are a total badass when you need to be. Oh, like when you showed up to save Sam and Dean from Pestilence? And he was all like, 'you don't have one bit of angel left in you,' and you were all like, 'maybe a bit,' and it was just bam! Off with the finger!"

Castiel pursed his lips. "The novels leave off with Sam diving into Hell, do they not?"

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, quite a damn cliffhanger to end a series on, btw."

"Well, I'm afraid I would no longer be your… favorite, if you knew what I had done since the end of that novel."

At that, Charlie jumped out of her chair, as if she were suddenly lit on fire. Castiel half rose to his feet when she waved him back down.

"I know that this is going to come off totally insensitive but… I really, really, really, please, please, please want to hear, and I'm gonna go find the kitchen to see if they have popcorn!"

Castiel couldn't seem to help himself. He stood. "They have a kind called Jiffy Pop. I'll show you where."

As the two, Castiel leading, made their way to the kitchen, Charlie turned.

"Okay, so you went back to Heaven, then what?"

"Well," the angel sighed, as they rounded the corner, "all was not well."

They disappeared around the corner, Charlie's body no longer able to contain the squee within. The sound bounced off the walls, quickly followed by, "Oh, what happened?"