A/N

Hello. This, readers, is my first attempt at fanfiction. I sincerely encourage you to continue reading, despite what I have just told you, because it might be worth your time. I hope to find out if it is, so review, please! Good or bad, I want to hear it. Enjoy!

Dean stood outside the worn picket fence, wondering how he could somehow muster up the strength to walk straight in and deal with whatever son of a bitch popped out and attempted to eat him alive. This whole routine seemed so pointless now. Eight years ago, he would have thought differently. He would have been stoked to walk into a situation like this and live up to his badass reputation. But now? Why was Sam dragging him into a job hunting a seemingly insignificant spirit when there were thousands of pissed off angels walking the streets looking for a chance to rip their throats out? Castiel and Kevin were waiting back at the bunker, Cas because he was now fully human and didn't have any mojo to fight with, and Kevin because he was working on translating the angel tablet. Well, time to get this over with.

Sam lead the way into the rickety house, silently creeping up the stairs while Dean checked behind to make sure nothing was following them. As they entered the place, they could feel the temperature drop about fifteen degrees. The EMF meter in Sam's pocket started wailing, leaving them no doubt that it was a spirit that they were hunting. They slowly but surely made their way to what was formerly the kitchen of the abandoned house and suddenly stopped in their tracks when they saw a figure standing in the very middle of the room. Dean glanced at Sam, a brief look of confusion passing between them. This spirit looked nothing like any others they had encountered in the past. For one thing, the color of the girl's face was much more vivid and an overall essence of life surrounded her form. This was no ghost. So what was it?

"Who are you?" Dean hesitantly asked the girl, around eighteen, by the looks of her. She had long, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes, evident even in the dim lighting of the otherwise empty room. Her clothing seemed a little too out of place for the current situation, seeing as how she was dressed in a short red dress covered with a leather jacket, black tights, and grey suede heels that gave her about five inches. Despite the obvious outnumbering, she appeared a little too calm. Sam assessed the situation and started circling around her, trying in earnest to cut off any exit plan that she may have had.

Without acknowledging Dean, she looked toward Sam and simply said, "I wouldn't bother. I don't need a door to escape the two of you."

"Awfully confident, aren't we?" Dean was starting to recognize the holier-than-thou stature and the deceiving light that emanated from the girl's eyes. "Especially since you have no home to escape to, angel."

She finally turned to look at Dean and replied, "You know, pet names like that shouldn't be used so literally. I'd be flattered, but frankly, you're a bit too old for me. It might look suspicious."

Surprise flickered across Dean's face as he registered that this particular angel was slightly snarky. A welcome change, he guessed. It would be more fun this way. "Alright. I'll ask nicely, then. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Your definition of 'nicely' could be improved," she said as an impatient huff made its way out of Dean's mouth, "but I'll play along. You guys aren't really hunting a spirit. That was all me. My apologies, I guess. I'm looking for Castiel. And before you stop me," she started at seeing the look of annoyance mixed with anger forming on Dean and Sam's faces, "let me assure you that I don't wish to harm him. I'm actually searching for a way to hide as effectively as he is. I know that he has somehow warded himself against the rest of the angels, but I'm not entirely sure which method he used. Now, in an effort to escape seeming bossy, I'd like to ask you to bring me to him."

"No freakin' way," Dean answered.

"I figured you would need more convincing than that. Okay, here's the deal. I was a junior member of Castiel's garrison back when we were all chummy, seemingly acting under the orders of a father who has long since disappeared." It was obvious her explanation would be longer than the previous one, so Dean and Sam relaxed a little to listen. "When everything fell out of place, we were split into factions, as you are already aware. I'm on Castiel's side, guys. You can think of me as an intern of sorts. As a junior warrior of the garrison, I wasn't given much responsibility other than following the others and learning what the proper fighting techniques were for when my time came. And as you can imagine, no one really paid me all that much attention. Castiel was the only one who ever went out of his way to speak to me. As a result, when the angels were torn apart, I chose to follow him. Might I also add that as one who was treated as if I didn't really exist, I heard quite a bit of gossip from the other side before all went to shit, pardon my French. So, I might have some information that would be of interest to you, if you are willing to take me to see Castiel."

The boys thought about it for a moment and silently came to the conclusion, through borderline telepathic communication, that they could probably pull this off if they made sure that no other angels were sneaking around waiting to pounce when they agreed. How they were going to do that, they had no idea. They guessed it wouldn't hurt to ask. Sam spoke for the first time, asking, "There aren't any other angels following you, are there?"

"Are you kidding? They barely even know I exist, remember? No, there aren't any tailing me. I'm sure of it."

"Sweetheart, if you're lying, there will be hell to pay," Dean quickly informed her.

"I'm aware, thanks."

A sudden realization dawned on Sam that would help let them know whether this "junior angel" was telling the truth. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Christiadel, but usually I just go by Chris."

"Okay, hang on a sec." Sam pulled out his phone and tossed it to Dean. "Call Cas," he told him, "and ask him what he knows about her."

"Why do I have to call him? It's your phone."

"Because you and him 'share a more profound bond,' remember?"

"Are you serious? You're still mad about that? God, you're such a chick. Okay fine." Christiadel watched the short exchange with a look of amusement. Dean unlocked the phone and dialed Cas' number. He waited a couple of seconds for him to pick up and when he did, he was met with a slightly tired voice on the other end of the line.

"Sam? What is it?"

Dean was confused for a moment, but then remembered whose phone he was using. "Hey, Cas. It's actually Dean. Look—"

"Dean? Why are you using Sam's phone? Did something happen?" Cas sounded a little breathless, but Dean rushed to assure him that they were fine.

"We're good. But look, we ran into another angel," Dean could hear Cas' breath hitch at that, but continued on, "and were wondering if you could help us out a little."

"Sure, Dean. Whatever you need." Dean paused for barely a second at that, but moved on, the brief moment barely noticeable.

"What do you know about an angel named Christiadel?"

Cas took a moment to think about it and slowly replied, "Christiadel? The junior member of the garrison? Well, she isn't hostile, that's for sure. But I can't think why she would be searching for the two of you," he confessed honestly. Sam watched Dean expectantly, hoping to gauge the nature of the conversation without the benefit of the other side. He waited patiently.

"Yeah, she's actually looking for you, apparently. But she knew you would be holed up someplace, so I guess she started with us."

"Oh. Well, there wouldn't be anyone looking for her, as far as I'm aware, so do what you may. Just be careful if you're bringing her back here. Make certain you aren't being followed, no matter how unlikely."

Dean rolled his eyes. Like they'd be stupid enough not to check twice. "Sure thing, Cas. Thanks." He hung up the phone and turned back to Sam. "Well, her story checks out. Cas said it shouldn't be a problem bringing her back to the bunker."

Christiadel calmly looked between the two of them and said, "Alright. Now that that's settled, let's get a move on."

"Not so fast, Miley Cyrus." At that comment, Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, but decided to let it pass for the moment. "We need to take some precautions first. One, you're riding in the car with us. Two, you're turning off angel radio."

"Dude, Heaven is closed down. There's no station for me to dial into, so we're good there. As for riding in the car…no shit, Sherlock. I didn't really expect you guys to give me an address. I'm not an idiot. P.S., I take offense to that particular nickname. How the hell do you know who she is anyway?"

Sam smirked at her before turning to Dean, widening his smile a bit. Dean quickly glanced at him, "Shut up. Let's go." With that, they all piled out of the house and into the Impala, making their way down the gravel road toward the bunker, looking forward to the five hour drive.

A/N

Thanks for reading! I hope it can roll with the rest of the stories on here, but for goodness sake, leave a review and let me know if it can't. Please. I can definitely take a load of criticism, so don't hold back. It will only make it more enjoyable for you should you choose to come back and read the rest of it. Those who like it as is are also encouraged to leave reviews! Everyone can use self-esteem boosts.

Thanks again and you guys are pretty awesome for giving my first story a shot. If I get a positive response, I'll soon upload more chapters.

See ya, hopefully!

CROcheWsterLEY