The insistent beeping of the alert on his computer drew Chuck from his chapter. Annoyed, he answered the video chat chime, and his girlfriend's face popped up on the computer screen.

"Becky, what's wrong?" he asked. She knew not to interrupt him when he was writing unless it was important.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" She held up his latest manuscript. "You send my Sam to Hell and you ask me what's wrong?"

Chuck sighed. "First, he is not your Sam. Second, he is back by the time the novel starts. Third, out of everything that happens that is what you're focusing on?"

Becky let out a huff. "No. I just had to mention it. Now we can get to what's important?"

"Which is?" he asked. He was beginning to doubt allowing Becky to read his work before publishing it, but she as the only one of his readers that knew the stories were real. He liked that in a beta reader. Not that he would or could change anything if she brought it up.

No, it was far too late for that...

o.O.o

The bar was busy when the demon known as Meg entered it. A few people looked over at her, but most were focused on their own conversation or drink. She could practically feel the misery coming from some of the patrons, and she drank it in.

"Evening, Portia," Meg greeted the demon bartender as she climbed up on a stool. "Business looks promising tonight."

"Local university lost their football game. Vodka?" Portia said.

"As always," Meg answered.

Portia set the drink in front of her and Meg took a deep swallow. The alcohol pleasantly burned down her meat suit's throat.

A few seats away a man was obviously eyeing her. He had the body of one of those guys who works out obsessively, and absolutely no real intelligence in his eyes. He definitely looked like he could be worth a few hours of physical, pleasurable fun though. It had been a while since she had had such fun. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and sat up straighter before giving him an inviting smile.

"Uh uh," Portia said, glancing at the man. "Not your type."

"And you know my type how?" Meg responded, taking another drink.

"By knowing you for three centuries. What's going on? I know you like big, but they're usually at least as smart as a dog."

"I'm bored. The most exciting thing I've done lately is watch daytime television."

"You're laying low, Meg."

"I know."

"You brought this on yourself for supporting Lucifer and not Crowley. You were one of Lucifer's most loyal. They'd love to get their hands on you."

And she'd end on back on the rack for another few centuries...if she was lucky. Alistair had trained her well. She knew exactly what would happen.

She had earned her way off the rack. She was not going back.

Meg finished her vodka and ordered another.

Portia set it in front of her with a smirk. "Here's some excitement for you. He's back…"

Meg glanced behind her and saw Castiel sitting at a table watching her. She rolled her eyes and took a large swallow of vodka before picking her glass up and moving to Castiel's table.

"Now, I know I've been a very...naughty...demon," she began in a low voice. "But I didn't think I merited angelic intervention."

He frowned as she sat across from him. "I am not aware of any orders concerning you."

"Then why are you stalking me, Clarence?"

"I am not, as you say, stalking you. I am merely observing you."

"Yeah. 'Observing' me every Friday for a month."

"I was asked to keep an eye on you. With peace in Heaven I now find that I have...free time. I was happy to oblige."

"Let me guess. The somebodies you're obliging are named Winchester?"

Castiel didn't reply, but she knew they were the only ones who the angel would ever do something like this for. They were also the only humans who knew who she was, and they had a reason for wanting her dead.

"Well, you can go back to your cloud. I'm not up to no good. I'm not up to anything. Just drinking and TV."

"That does not sound like you."

"And what sounds like me?" she asked, leaning back with a smirk on her face. This should be interesting.

"You're a demon. Causing chaos and torturing humans are more likely activities. Although, I have heard that the new King of Hell is hunting Lucifer's followers. Perhaps that is why you're in this place. By foolishly supporting Lucifer you have made yourself a target." He said it with such casualness that her temper flared up.

"Yeah, no shit, Clarence."

He tilted his head slightly but didn't say anything. She couldn't tell is he was confused or upset by her reply, and frankly she didn't care. Her mood was plummeting fast. She finished her vodka and wished that she was able to get drunk. Abruptly standing, she turned to go back to the bar.

"Why do you call me Clarence?" He asked her before she could leave.

She looked back at him. "Are you serious?"

"I would not have asked if I was not."

She leaned against the table. "It's a movie. A very famous movie."

He looked thoughtful and nodded. "A movie about angels."

"Not really." A plan began to form in her mind and she slowly smiled. "Come back next week and you can find out more."

She went back to the bar and when she glanced back a few minutes later he was gone.

"I know that look," Portia said, passing Meg another vodka.

"What look?"

"You're up to something."

"I'm a demon. I'm always up to something." Portia raised her eyebrows and Meg grinned. "Fine. I'm going to seduce Castiel."

"Castiel? Your angelic stalker?"

"Yep."

"Meg, angels are our enemy. They can kill us with a touch and you want to screw one?"

"Yep."

She wasn't about to admit it out loud, but Castiel was powerful, and if she could seduce him, she'd have an angelic protector. It went against her nature to want such protection, but she didn't reach her age by being unrealistic.

One week later Meg was back with a small bag in her hands. She felt a slight tingle of anxiety as she sat the bar. Portia set a vodka in front of her with raised eyebrows at the bag. Meg didn't bother to explain and resisted the urge to look around as she waited for the angel.

She didn't have to wait long. Five minutes after she arrived Portia nodded. Meg turned around to find Castiel standing way too close.

"Okay, personal space?" she asked.

Castiel took a step back. "You said—"

"Yeah, come on." Meg downed the last of her drink and headed for the door. She looked behind her and saw that he was not following.

"This is a trap," he said, though his tone was uncertain.

She sighed and patted the bag. "No, this is a DVD player and a movie. We can't exactly watch it here, so I'm going to the park across the street. Join me if you want."

She left the bar and went to the tiny park. It was half a block of trees and grass, with a swing set and a few benches. Most importantly, at this time of night it was deserted and quiet. She settled on a bench and pulled the portable DVD player out of the bag. As she was sticking the DVD into it, Castiel sat down next to her.

"It's A Wonderful Life?" he asked, reading the case.

"Yep. Here." She handed him one earbud, stuck the other in her ear, and pressed play.

Meg actually wasn't that big of a fan of the movie. She liked the dark alternate reality, but she found the ending too sickly sweet for her taste. So as the movie drew to a close she found herself watching Castiel instead. His eyes were glued to the screen and his forehead was wrinkled in obvious confusion. She chuckled silently to herself and pressed stop when the credits began to roll.

"I do not know where humans got that idea about angles and wings. We do not have to earn them," he said, his tone laced with disapproval.

"You don't go around creating alternate realities to solve some humans emotional problems either but..." She shrugged and stuck the DVD player back in the bag.

"It was entertaining though." He stood and faced her. "...thank you."

She crossed her arms. "And how difficult was that for you to say?"

"It was not difficult. Just uncomfortable." He paused and tilted his head. "Though not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be."

A moment later he was gone with the sound of flapping wings. Meg stood and headed for home, satisfied with how the beginning of her plan had worked out.