Brief A/N~ Obviously my title is unoriginal and uninspired...if you'd like to make a suggestion towards what I should change it to, please feel free. Oh, and also, obviously I own nothing, no matter how hard I wish upon every single star I see that I could own even a scrap of Cas' trenchcoat.
Read on!
The last of the talk died down in the next room and all was quiet. Castiel sat calmly, gazing through the warped glass of the window out at the landscape blanketed in white. Snow truly was one of his Father's more glorious creations. The frozen water clinging to everything made the outside sparkle in the midmorning sun.
He was…what was the term he searched for? Emotions were such a foreign concept, at least ones that he had to identify, that he had trouble finding the words sometimes. He was…frustrated, yes, frustrated, that Sam and Dean had to summon forth that…abomination in a human's skin for help. The fact that the female was there didn't bother him at all. The minute she became a threat, Castiel really doubted he'd have any trouble vaporizing her where she stood.
His real frustration lay in that he couldn't be more of help to the two men. It seemed all he was good for lately was to be the butt of one of Dean's many unfunny jokes or to be manipulated by frightening-soulless-Sam. Or Meg. She was a manipulator, that one, even if she did make his vessel's body speed up like a revving engine would. He couldn't help but be physically drawn to her; even if rationally he knew she was essentially a pure manifestation of evil.
He could actually feel her black stain of a soul moving about in the next room by the way it made his grace react. He ignored the reflex; it was really only a boon in combat situations. She was moving towards him now; he could feel her.
Walking casually past him towards the door, she lightly ran the tips of her fingernails through his thick hair, offering him a seductively curving smile over her shoulder as her hips swung past his field of vision.
He shivered, and then caught her wrist in his hand, swinging her off balance and around so that she had to catch the arms of his chair to keep her self from falling over.
Meg's dark hair fell like curtains around his face. Keeping the irritation out of his voice, Castiel leaned forward until their lips were a hairsbreadth apart.
"Stop doing that," he said softly but firmly, feeling her exhaled breath land on his face. He leaned back into the chair, releasing her wrist.
"Why, Cas," Meg purred, her eyelids languishing half-closed, "I thought you were going to kiss me again. I gotta say I'm a little disappointed."
"You'll live, I'm sure," Castiel said simply.
Meg waited a beat longer, almost seeming to gauge his next move, before standing straight and disappearing into thin air, after winking at him once.
Castiel went back to gazing out the window, willing his vessel's heart beat to slow.
"I swear to all that is holy, Cas," came Dean's gravel voice from behind him, "You two are about the unlikeliest pair since Marilyn Manson and that hot red-headed chick that was weird enough to marry him. Only you're the dumb redheaded chick in this situation."
Castiel just looked at him, as normally confused by Dean's speech as usual. He had no idea who this Manson person was, and the last time he'd caught his reflection in a mirror, he was sure his hair had been dark brown. He shook his head. He would probably never get a handle on all of the weird Dean-isms his human friend was always spouting.
He turned back to the window in silence.
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