Book 19 - Bastille Day

by GailDunn2

WARNING: ADULT THEMES AND SITUATIONS. The group of human monsters has a grand and shocking plan. Will Cas, Sam, Dean and Gail be able to prevent Armageddon on a smaller scale while staying true to their mission? At what point do the needs of the few outweigh the needs of the many? And who has the responsibility of deciding where the line is to be drawn?

1. Heaven Can Wait

Chapter 1 - Heaven Can Wait

Cas stepped out of the bar and walked around the corner into the alleyway. What was he going to do?

He couldn't just go out into the streets, seize an immigrant, bring him back to the bar, and then kill him. Despite the fact that so many lives could potentially hang in the balance, Cas couldn't even entertain an idea like that. But then, what was he going to do?

Could he perhaps approach someone and ask them to accompany him back to the bar and then pretend to kill him? No, that wouldn't work; there was no way that Etienne would fall for that. Yet if he came back alone, the white supremacists would realize that he and Sam and Dean were not the type of people they claimed to be, and then all would be lost.

Cas paced back and forth, thinking furiously. Then a germ of an idea occurred to him. He called Crowley on their private frequency, and the King of Hell appeared a couple of minutes later.

"Enjoying your Parisian honeymoon?" Crowley said casually.

Castiel frowned. "I have no time to joke around," he said. He told his Brother about the situation.

Crowley regarded him evenly. "That IS quite the dilemma. What are you going to do, Castiel?"

"I need your assistance," Cas said.

"Again, Castiel?" Crowley said testily. "How on earth did Heaven ever get along without me all those years? You already owe me a favour, and it's a huge one, as you'll recall. Maybe I'm tired of bailing you out, every time I turn around."

"If I can't satisfy their request, we won't gain admittance to their organization," Cas persisted, "and if we can't get in, we have no way of getting the Tablet."

Crowley was frowning. He was hard-wired to give his Brother a difficult time at the best of times, but he was becoming genuinely angry with him now. Castiel seemed to think that Crowley existed just to do things for him. He had a Kingdom to run, didn't he?

He patted his pockets. "I seem to have left my Angel wings in my other suit," he said sardonically. "I guess you'll just have to decide what your priorities are, Castiel, and realize that being the General sometimes means you have to make the hard decisions. I thought you had that figured out in Egypt. Maybe that's why Bobby didn't want to be God any more. Any voter will tell you that it's much easier to sit back and bitch about the decisions made by the Powers That Be. Hell, any non-voter will tell you that, too. You'll find it's not so easy being the one that the buck stops with. Is it any wonder I'm going grey at the temples? Of course, on me, it looks distinguished."

Castiel was seething with frustration and anger now. He desperately needed Crowley's assistance, and his Brother was wasting time pontificating. And the fact that Crowley was right in his analysis only made it all the more maddening. It WASN'T easy making these types of decisions, and Cas was notorious for being one of Heaven's worst decision-makers. But that was not why he had summoned Crowley. Cas had thought up a loophole.

"I'll listen to your speechifying another time," Cas told the King impatiently. "I'm not asking you to make the decision for me; I've already made it. I asked you here to gain your permission to borrow one of your employees."

Crowley's eyebrows raised. As so often happened, he was already several moves ahead on the chessboard. "I have to hand it to you, Castiel. That's a good idea."

Cas gave Crowley a thin smile. It didn't surprise him that his Brother had already gotten there. Good. It would save time. "Can I have him, then?" he asked Crowley.

"Yes, you can have him," Crowley replied. "And as far as I'm concerned, you can keep him. Ever since I got him back, he's been nothing but trouble."

Cas frowned. Great. Another Metatron in the making. But, desperate times called for desperate measures, and he was running out of time. "I wonder why he would agree to help us, though," Cas said. "We didn't exactly part on good terms." Now his lips twitched. That was the understatement of the century.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," Crowley said. He was looking at Cas's face curiously. He'd seen his Brother's mouth move, and it had surprised him. Every once in a while, Crowley wondered if he had actually removed every ounce of Demon from Castiel back at the cabin. "I'm sure you can persuade him to play along if you promise him a ticket to Heaven, afterwards."

Now Cas was alarmed. "I can't do that!" he exclaimed. "You know I don't have the authority to do that." And neither did Bobby any more, he thought, frustrated. Only God had that kind of authority.

Crowley stepped forward. "I do know that. But he doesn't. Lie," he said bluntly. "I know you know how to do that."

Cas was dismayed. Yes, he had to lie from time to time, out of necessity. But this would be a very big lie. The clock was ticking, though. "OK," he told Crowley. "Bring him, then. We're running out of time."

Crowley glared at his Brother. There he went, ordering Crowley around again, using that imperious tone. They would be having a talk about that, and very soon. But he could also tell that time was of the essence. If Castiel didn't return to the bar soon, those men would probably come looking for him. And like it or not, the Tablets were still their mutual priority. Also, this particular caper would ultimately be of benefit to Crowley. He had not been joking when he'd told Castiel that Paul was a troublemaker. Ever since Castiel had tortured Paul and Crowley had brought him back to Hell, he had been nothing but a thorn in Crowley's side. Of course, the fact that the King had had him systematically tortured for the first week after he'd gotten back probably hadn't helped Paul's mood. But he had turned traitor and aligned himself with Lucifer, and if there was one thing that Crowley couldn't abide, it was a traitor. Especially since Crowley had sent Paul to Earth in the first place. Once he'd been released from the torture chamber, Paul had been brought to Crowley's office, where he'd told the King that he would stop at nothing to take his revenge on everyone who had wronged him. And Crowley and Castiel were at the top of his list. While Paul didn't scare Crowley in the slightest, he was the type of person who would dedicate himself to causing the King as much trouble as possible. In short, he was just like his father had been. The Archangels had been the worst. Crowley would never admit this out loud, but he would sooner deal with ten Castiels than with another Archangel. They had all been a pain in his rear pants pocket, and he was glad they were all gone now. He supposed he owed a debt of gratitude to Castiel and the Winchesters, as the three of them had either directly or indirectly been responsible for the demise of all of the Archangels.

So Crowley was fully prepared to foist Paul off on Castiel. The fact that his Brother had no authority to allow Paul into Heaven did not concern Crowley in the slightest. Once Crowley brought Paul here, he would be Castiel's problem. And the fact that Paul would be angrier than a hornet's nest at being lied to would just be the sweet icing on the cake.

"Wait here. I'll get him," Crowley told Cas, smirking inwardly.

A minute later, Crowley returned, with Paul in tow. The Demon glared at Cas. "Crowley tells me you'll scratch my back if I scratch yours," Paul said without preliminary.

Cas swallowed. "Yes," he replied.

"All right, I'll do it," Paul said, frowning. "But, make no mistake: I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart. Crowley told me that you will ascend me to Heaven if I play along with this little charade. But since when are YOU able to do something like that? I know you told my father that you were God, Castiel, but here's a news flash: you're not."

Cas's stomach rolled. This was going to come back and bite him on the ass, just like all of his other really poor decisions. But he saw no other alternative.

"Yes, I'm not," he said to Paul. "But I am one of God's Originals, if you'll recall."

"Meaning what?" Paul asked boldly.

"Meaning, I have additional powers," Cas replied tersely. There. He hadn't actually lied. Well, not per se, anyway. "Come on. We need to go," he added, gesturing.

"Just a minute," Paul said. "I want your word that you will raise me to my rightful place once this is done."

"Yes, fine. You have my word. Fine," Cas said impatiently. It was bad enough without belabouring the point. He would have to figure out what to do to fix the situation after he and the Winchesters gained admission into this cursed club. They needed to go back to the bar now and get this over with.

Cas hadn't taken the time to think about the way that Paul had phrased his statement, not had Paul taken the time to really think about what Castiel had promised, and what he hadn't. It had never occurred to Paul that Castiel would out-and-out lie. He had forgotten that Cas had been around humans for a long time now, and that the moral lines in such matters could be extremely fluid. So, Paul nodded. "All right. Let's go."

"Call me when you're done," Crowley said to Castiel, and then the white Angel and the black Demon walked down the alleyway. Crowley shook his head slowly. His Brother, the sucker. He snapped himself back to Hell. Might as well get a little paperwork done while he waited.

Once Cas had plunked Paul down in the chair, he leaned forward to stab the Demon in the chest. As they had agreed, Paul exhaled, transferring his essence into Cas just before Cas stabbed Paul's vessel. None of the other men saw this, as Cas had deliberately blocked their view of Paul with his own body. By the time Etienne approached them with the beer stein to collect Paul's blood, Paul was already inside of Cas, and his empty vessel was slumping to the floor. If Etienne were to check it for vital signs, he would be checking a corpse.

When Cas slammed his bloody blade down on the table, he was continuing to play his part. But now, he had Paul's essence inside of him too, and they were co-existing inside his body in an uneasy truce.

"Let's get this damn thing signed," Paul said. He couldn't believe he was going to sit down at a table with these Nazi bastards and sign a contract for membership in a white supremacist organization, using his own blood for the ink. This was one for the books.

He looked to his right. The two tall dudes in the flannel shirts that were looking at him with the big, googly eyes had to be Sam and Dean Winchester. Funny, they were looking even whiter than white right now. Paul smirked. Obviously, Castiel hadn't shared his little brainstorm with them.

Etienne clapped Cas on the shoulder. "Good job, Cas. Quick and dirty. No sense wasting any time. Benoit is really going to enjoy giving you assignments." The men sat down at the table, and Etienne opened the case that held the knives that they had used earlier. He pressed a button that released a false bottom and then took out a contract form and a fountain pen. He dipped the pen in the stein that held Paul's blood, and handed it and the contract to Cas.

"Sign quickly," Etienne told him. "Black blood tends to dry up really fast."

Paul took the pen from him and slammed the contract down on the table in front of Cas. It was taking everything he had not to pick up Cas's blade and ram it right down this French-fried Nazi's throat. He gripped the pen tight, signing Cas's name on the bottom of the piece of paper. Then he slid the contract and the pen over to Dean.

Dean was staring at Cas. His friend was acting really weird, and it wasn't just because he was playing a part. Dean looked at Cas curiously. He couldn't believe what he had just seen Cas do. Was getting that damn Tablet so important that it was apparently OK to take an innocent man's life to accomplish? How the hell were they ever going to live with themselves now? Dean picked up the pen with a trembling hand and signed the contract, then he slid it to Sam. Then he drained the contents of his stein and poured another glass from the pitcher.

Sam was also staring at Cas with narrowed eyes. There was something fishy going on here. The Cas he knew would never have done anything like what he had just witnessed. It had to be some kind of a trick. But the guy he had stabbed was laying on the floor dead, and that was real blood in the stein. So what the hell was going on here? He picked up the pen, but Etienne gestured to him.

"Give it here," Etienne said. "I think it needs freshening. I told you, black blood dries fast."

Sam handed him the pen and Etienne dipped it in the stein, again, and handed it back. Paul was glaring at Etienne, wondering how quick cracker blood dried. They'd better wrap this up, before he overpowered Castiel altogether and killed them all, just to find out.

Sam signed the contract and pushed it back to Etienne. He felt like throwing up. There was blood from the victim on his fingers now, and he wiped his hand on his pants in disgust. What the hell had they just done?

Paul was looking at Sam and Dean now, and he was slightly mollified to see the looks on their faces. He didn't know that much about the brothers, so he was prepared to maybe give them the benefit of the doubt. The fact that they were buddies with Castiel didn't exactly help, but humans had long been hapless victims of Angels and their otherworldly powers, and delusions of grandeur. It must be nice to be one of the Upper Echelon, Paul thought. He'd love to be Castiel for just one day. Then again, what was he saying? He WAS Castiel, right now.

"Congratulations," Etienne was saying. "The initiation is over. You're full-fledged members now."

"You guys are looking a little green," Kurt said to Sam and Dean, smirking. "Maybe you'd better go back to the hotel and sleep it off."

"And you probably want to go back to the hotel, too," Etienne said to Cas. "I'll have Kurt and Gregoire drive you all back, and I'll go to the clubhouse and get Gail and bring her to the hotel for you. You'll probably want to clean up first, though. You've got coon blood all over you. That doesn't exactly turn a woman on."

Paul grabbed Cas's blade and stood from his chair. Don't do it, Castiel told him. I'll expel your essence into one of these men, and you can spend the rest of your existence as the very thing you hate. Just hold your temper for a few minutes longer.

"What are we going to do with that?" Paul asked Etienne, gesturing towards his vessel. He stashed the blade in his jacket pocket, so he wouldn't have it in his hand. Too tempting that way.

"What do you want to do with it?" Etienne asked him. "Your kill, your call."

"I have to take a wicked whiz," Dean said suddenly. He stood up from his chair. "Anybody else? Cas?" he added, raising an eyebrow.

Cas looked at him. Not exactly subtle. But poor Dean must be wondering if his friend had taken leave of his senses now. Cas supposed he owed his friend an explanation. Besides, neither Cas nor Paul knew how they were going to get Paul back into his body, if Cas was back at the hotel and Paul's vessel was elsewhere. What should they say they wanted him to do with the body?

"Yeah, I'll come with," Paul told Dean.

"What are you, women?" Kurt said scornfully.

"Keep it up, and my blade and I will make YOU into a woman," Cas said. "How would that be?"

Kurt shut up, and Paul grinned. OK, he had to hand it to Castiel; that had been pretty good.

Once they got to the mens' room, Dean wheeled on Cas. "What the hell, Cas? What was that, back there? What did you do?"

Cas began to explain as Dean undid his pants and urinated for what felt to him like an hour. Then Dean flushed the urinal, as Cas stopped the narrative and stared at him.

"What? I had to go," Dean said defensively. "I had at least eight glasses of beer, and all those shots. I'm amazed that Sammy isn't in here with us right now. He must have the constitution of an elephant. Anyway, you were saying?"

"Aren't you gonna wash your hands?" Paul said to Dean.

"Naah, I didn't get any on me. It'll be fine," Dean said, smiling. He was still pretty drunk, although the shock of what he'd seen had sobered him up a bit. Now he felt a little better, though. Cas hadn't killed an innocent human, after all. He'd only killed a Demon.

"And they call US filthy," Paul muttered.

Dean was staring at him. "What?" he said blankly.

Dean wasn't getting it. "So what are we going to do with my body until we can get me back in it?" Paul asked Dean.

Dean had the googly eyes again. How did Castiel not laugh every time he looked at his friend? Oh, right. Because he was too busy dealing with that stick that was apparently lodged up his butt. Although, he had recently gotten married, a fact which had surprised Paul quite a bit. His little wife was cute, too. So Castiel obviously did have a softer side to him. But that still didn't mean that Paul was ever really going to like the guy. It was strange being in Cas's body and in his head right now. Castiel was trying to think several steps ahead, just like Crowley, but it was difficult for him. He had the intelligence, but he was letting his emotions get in the way. He'd been concerned about what the Winchesters would think of him, and now that that concern had been halfway alleviated, Cas's thoughts were all for his wife. How was he going to tell her about this? Castiel was still shielding the big lie from Paul in their shared brain right now, so Paul was under the impression that Cas was worried about the chewing out he would get from his wife if she discovered he'd allowed himself to be possessed by a Demon again. Not that he planned on her finding out. That thought made Paul grin. Human men and Angels were apparently not that different when it came to marriage, and he found it very amusing that Castiel would be afraid to tell something to his wife. Castiel, Heaven's warrior, actually afraid. She must be a formidable woman, even though she was just a tiny thing.

Dean was shocked by what Cas had just said. "YOUR body? What do you mean?"

"Does flannel make you stupid?" Paul said sharply. "I'm not dead! I'm in your friend!"

"Why?" Dean asked, incredulous.

Paul shrugged. "Castiel needed a nigger."

Dean's body jerked, as if Paul had punched him in the face. Paul smirked. "What? Never heard that word before?" He leaned closer to Dean. "Never USED that word before?"

"No!" Dean replied indignantly. "We don't say offensive crap like that!"

"No? Well, good for you," Paul said airily. "But I'm sure you've THOUGHT it before."

Dean sighed. He had no idea why Cas would have agreed to leave this Demon bastard alive, but the guy was getting on his nerves now. And it was really weird seeing things like that coming out of Cas's mouth. Cas was just as white as any of them.

"Look, if Cas is in there too, the both of you need to cool it," Dean said. "We'll tell them we're gonna dispose of the body. Then we'll just take it with us, and once we shake those guys, you can do your Angel voodoo crap, Cas."

"'Angel voodoo crap'?" Paul said, smiling. "I like that. No wonder Castiel enjoys hanging out with you guys. You're funny."

"Yeah, I'm freakin' hilarious," Dean said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Let's go, Snoop Dogg."

When they got back to the table, Etienne said to Cas, "I have a surprise for you. Gail is on her way back to the hotel right now. I told Lise to take her there. So, she'll be waiting there for you when we drop you off. I know how hot something like what you just did makes me, and unless you've had too much to drink, your little wife might well be the lucky recipient of all of that...motivation, oui?"

Crap, Dean thought. What about the body? Personally, he'd be fine with just leaving it here, but Cas had obviously made some kind of agreement with the guy. In the meantime, he made eye contact with Sam and winked at his brother. Dean could see how distressed Sammy looked, and that was all that Dean could do to reassure him at the moment. Sam's shoulders relaxed a bit, when he'd seen Dean do that. The brothers had become very good at non-verbal communication after all these years.

Cas was seething at what Etienne had just said, but he was glad that at least Gail would be safely back at the hotel, and that Etienne would not be driving her anywhere.

"Thanks," he made himself say. He and Dean exchanged glances. They needed to shake these guys in order to put Demon Paul back into his vessel. But they obviously couldn't say they wanted to bring his dead body with them back to the hotel, either.

Then Dean had an idea. "Cas and I were talking, in there," he jerked his head in the direction of the bathroom, "and we thought we could dump the body in the catacombs. The rats can have a field day, and when they're done, we can leave his bones there. Maybe put him into one of those sculptures, or something."

Etienne was impressed. "That's a great idea, Dean." Better that guy than him, he thought. He could just bet he knew who had suggested that, too. Now that Cas had proven himself to be a stone-cold killer, Etienne had better be a little more conciliatory towards him. "I'll tell you what," Etienne went on. "I'll take you three back to the hotel myself. Kurt and Gregoire will stay here and clean up, and they can take out the garbage when they're done. Dump it in the catacombs. I'll give them my key to the door of the place."

Kurt and Gregoire looked at each other. They hated it when Etienne treated them like his personal lackeys. But, the hierarchy was the hierarchy, and they were loyal to the Cause. Besides, they could drink their fill as they were cleaning up, and then, they could get rid of the corpse of a jungle bunny. Plus, they'd been treated to one hell of a show, something that the other guys in the club never got to see. All in all, a pretty good day.

Paul's lips were pursed. He didn't want his vessel to be dumped into some damn catacombs, to be a meal for some rats. He wanted to keep his same vessel. Or did he? Maybe he should have Castiel put him in a white guy next, just to see how the other half lived. Or maybe he should just stay in Castiel for a while and enjoy the feeling of everybody kissing his ass.

But Castiel was weighing in, now. He knew that Paul would be alarmed by what Etienne was suggesting; however, they could make it work, he told Paul. The instant they were dropped off at the hotel, they could collect Gail, and the Angels could pop over to the catacombs. Then, as soon as Paul's body was taken there, they could transfer him back, before anything happened to it.

Paul couldn't really see a flaw in that plan, so he trooped along with Etienne and the Winchesters to Etienne's car, and a few minutes later, they were back at the hotel.

"Sleep it off, boys," Etienne told them once they got out of the car. "We'll call you tomorrow morning to go over the plan." Then he drove off.

Sam wheeled on Cas and Dean as soon as Etienne's car was out of sight. "OK, what the hell was that?" he exclaimed.

Cas sighed. "Let's go inside. I'll explain everything. But I need to make sure that Gail is OK, first. If she's not here, I'm going to call her on her cell phone. And if she doesn't answer, I'm going to pop back to that bar and kick some racist ass."

Sam looked at him, startled. Dean grabbed his brother's arm. "Come on, let's get Malcolm X here upstairs," Dean said. Paul looked at him sharply, and then he grinned. He was starting to like this guy, almost against his will. And the look on Sam's face right now was priceless.

They went straight to Cas and Gail's room, and Paul knocked on the door as Sam and Dean looked at each other, amused. It was weird seeing Cas knock on his own door.

Gail opened the door. "Why are you knocking?" she said to Cas with a smile. She opened the door wider to let the three of them in. "How'd it go?" She closed the door and then turned around to look at the men.

Cas couldn't help it. He put his arms around her and kissed her on the lips. "I'm so glad you're all right," he said to her.

"Ditto," Gail said. She touched his face. "I missed you," she told him.

Paul had never had a woman touch his face like that before, and it had been years and years since he had even kissed one. He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth again, and Gail opened her mouth now. They kissed like that for a minute, and then Castiel pulled away. Paul was enjoying himself a little too much.

"Damn, girl," Paul murmured. Now Cas was becoming agitated. He was visibly excited, and the Winchesters were smirking now. Cas could usually control himself until he and Gail were alone, but Paul hadn't been with a willing woman in a long time.

Gail looked at Cas quizzically. In all the time she'd known him, she had never heard him use an expression like that. Was he trying to be funny?

"Don't you think you'd better tell Gail what's going on, Cas?" Dean prompted his friend.

Right. Paul had better cool it. Cas took Gail by the hand and sat her down on the bed, while Sam and Dean took the chairs by the table. Cas explained what he had done back at the bar, and the arrangement that he and Paul had made.

Sam was grinning. Even though the idea of a Demon inside Cas's body was pretty crazy, he was glad that their friend hadn't actually killed an innocent human being. Sam should have figured as much. That would have gone against everything they all believed in. This was weird, but it was definitely the better alternative.

Gail was frustrated. Great. Now Cas had another Demon in him. But she could hardly give him hell about it, especially right now. Sam and Dean were here, and they didn't know anything about him having been a Demon before. Not to mention the fact that in this instance, it had clearly been the right thing to do. So she breathed deeply and counted to ten, and she squeezed his hand. "I'm glad you were able to think of that," she told Cas.

"Me, too," he replied. He put his arms around her and pulled her to him. "And I'm so glad you're safe," he told her. He kissed her on the mouth again, and Gail couldn't help but respond. This was Cas's face, and these were his lips. But then his hand lifted her top and touched her bare skin.

Gail pulled away and looked at him. Paul was grinning now. "Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying," he said to her. She shook her head, trying not to smile. This was Paul, the Demon who had been working for Lucifer, and who Cas had tortured. She should not be charmed by anything this guy said or did. But it was a little difficult, when he was wearing her husband for a costume. Wouldn't that have been the prize-winner last night at the party.

She gave him a look of warning and moved away from him a bit. "I had a pretty interesting day, too," she told the men with a grim smile. She described what she had heard Jacqueline and Renee talking about, and what she and Lise had been doing with the wires.

Cas jumped up from the bed. He was livid, and so was Paul. "So those damn Nazis are gonna put suicide vests on you women and send you in to blow all those people up?"

Gail frowned. "Apparently, that's the plan."

"Oh, hell no," Paul said, agitated. "We've got to go in there and kill those bastards, before they kill all of us."

"We've been working on that," Cas said aloud, "but we haven't been able to get the location of their headquarters yet."

Gail and Sam and Dean all looked at each other, bemused. Just when they thought this couldn't get any weirder, now Cas was talking aloud to himself.

"I may be able to help with that," Gail said, "or at least, I can try. When Lise drove me here, she didn't put a blindfold on me. If we get into a car, we can try to retrace my steps. But it better be soon, you guys. I'm already starting to forget some of the turns she took."

Paul clenched his fists in frustration. "What about my body?" he fumed. "I don't want to be a meal for no rats."

"Fair enough," Castiel said. "I'll pop you over to the catacombs and we'll get your vessel. We'll put you back in it, and then we'll go. But how are we going to get a car?"

"I'll call Henri," Dean said, pulling out his cell phone. "See if he's got one. And, Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?" Cas said.

"Can you and Paul talk to each other in your head?" Dean complained. "You're freaking me out."

Gail couldn't help but smile. He should try kissing them both at the same time. But it was starting to freak her out a little bit, too. It was strange seeing Cas talk the way that Paul would, using some of his phraseology, for lack of a better term. She would have to file this away so they could laugh about it later. Much, much later.

A short while later, Henri was standing in Cas and Gail's room, looking incredulously at Gail and the Winchesters. "You and Cas are what, now?" he was asking Gail.

When Dean had called Henri, he'd been just a couple of blocks away from the hotel, having a cup of coffee at a local bistro. He'd wanted to stay close to the hotel, he'd said, in case they called. So he had walked over here, and they were now waiting for Cas and Paul to get back.

Cas was going to pop in here any minute, accompanied by a Demon, and Henri would receive the fright of his life. So Gail felt they had no choice but to tell Henri of their status.

"I know, it's hard to believe," she said to Henri.

The skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. "No, not at all," he said. "I could tell there was something different about the two of you. An innate goodness, let's just call it."

"What about us?" Sam said, grinning.

Henri looked up at him. "You? You and Dean smell like you just came back from a tour of a brewery."

"We pretty much did," Sam admitted. He and Dean told Henri about the initiation, but they glossed over many of the details in order to spare his feelings.

Henri could read between the lines, though, and he felt sick. Thank God for these folks. It didn't particularly surprise him that Cas and Gail were Angels; the four of them were truly doing God's work.

They had prepared him as best they could, but Henri still jumped in shock when Cas popped into the room, accompanied by a young black man. Cas had his hand on the man's arm, and as soon as they appeared, the Demon jerked his arm out of the Angel's grasp.

"Lying cracker bastard!" Paul was yelling. "If I had a blade, I would stab your ass right now."

"Well, you don't, and you need to listen to me," Cas said sternly. "We'll work something out. But you've seen these people, Paul. They have to be brought to justice."

"So you lied, right to my face!?" Paul exclaimed.

"You said you wouldn't do it just out of the goodness of your heart," Cas retorted. "You didn't leave me any choice."

"Oh, and you're doing this because it's the right thing to do," Paul said sarcastically. "It wouldn't have anything to do with a certain Tablet, would it?"

"I'm not going to stand here and argue with you, or justify myself to you," Castiel said impatiently. "If you can't appreciate that we're trying to do the right thing, then I'll call Crowley, and he can have you back."

"I should have figured you were going to stab me in the back," Paul said angrily. "I'm just another slave to you, aren't I? Just one more nigger son of a bitch that you can screw over."

"See here, young man!" Henri exclaimed indignantly. "Watch your language!"

Paul had been keyed in on Castiel, and he looked at Henri now, startled. Who was this older black dude, now? He had to be a human, because Paul wasn't getting a vibe from him.

"You owe me an apology," Henri said to Paul, shaking with anger. "My grandfather fought here in the War to ensure that words like that would not be used."

Paul looked at him. He was about to say a smart remark when something in the man's eyes stopped him. There was an air of quiet authority about him, a sense of dignity. Paul couldn't get angry at this man. If anyone understood the struggle, it would be him. He'd probably undergone quite a few slights and humiliations himself, when he was younger. Paul gave Henri a half-bow with only a modicum of sarcasm in it.

"Sorry, Sir," he said.

Henri continued to glare at him. "Now, apologize to the lady," he said, gesturing to Gail.

"What?" Paul exclaimed. "Why?"

"You used bad language," Henri told him calmly.

Gail had to fight very hard to keep a straight face. She really liked Henri. In a lot of ways, he reminded her of Castiel, when he was being an old-school gentleman.

Paul sighed in frustration. "But she's no lady, she's - "

"I'd be very careful about the next word you use, or it may be your last," Cas said to Paul, and now Gail did smile. She just couldn't help it.

"Fine," Paul said. "Sorry." Then he glared at Cas. "But this - " he glanced at Henri uneasily " - darn son of a gun lied to me!"

Cas's lips were pursed with frustration. "I told you, we'll work something out," he told Paul. "But right now, we have to see if we can find that clubhouse before it gets dark."

"There's only one problem, Cas," Sam said. "Henri doesn't have a car."

Henri shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I sold it a while back. I walk everywhere I need to go, or I take the Metro."

Dean had had it. They were wasting time. "Everybody just wait here. Sammy and I will be right back." He gestured impatiently to his brother, and the two of them left the room.

Henri looked at Cas. "So, you're Angels," he said, bemused. "And who is this...exuberant young man with you?"

Cas gave him a thin smile. "It's a long story," he replied.

"Seems to me we've got a few minutes until Sam and Dean get back from wherever they went," Henri said reasonably.

Cas sighed. "This is Paul. He's...the son of an old acquaintance of mine. He's been helping us. Haven't you, Paul?"

Paul glared at him. "Yeah. Whatever. Fine. But what am I supposed to do now? You never had the authority to promise that I could ascend, did you? I should have known I couldn't trust you."

"Give me some time. I'll work something out, I promise," Cas said irritably.

"You promise," Paul said sarcastically. "Just like you promised when you got me into this in the first place?"

"I don't know what the problem is between the two of you," Henri said quietly, "but I think you should give Cas the benefit of the doubt, Paul. He's trying to do the right thing here. And if you're helping him, then you're doing God's work."

Paul laughed shortly, but he said nothing. God's work. Right.

But Cas snorted in derision. "You're wasting your breath, Henri. Paul wouldn't know anything about that. He's been doing the Devil's work. He's a Demon."

Henri's eyes widened. He walked closer to Paul, looking him in the eye. "Why?" he said.

Paul's brow furrowed. "Why? What do you mean, why?"

"Just what I said," Henri answered, continuing to stare him down. "Why would you turn your back on the Lord like that?"

"The Lord?" Paul echoed. "You're tripping! He turned his back on us years ago."

"From what I can see here, it's quite the opposite," Henri retorted, gesturing to Cas and Gail.

Paul looked at him evenly. "Let me ask you something. How many relatives do you have who were whipped? Lynched? Raped?" he asked Henri.

"Too damn many," the older man said through clenched teeth. "What's your point, Son?"

"My point is that God doesn't exist anymore, or if he does, he doesn't give a damn about us!" Paul exclaimed.

"The Good Lord helps those who help themselves," Henri told the younger man. "I prayed to the Father every night to send help, but I've also spent years, and my entire life's savings, trying to bring Les Rebelles Blancs to justice. That's why I had to sell my car. But God heard my prayers, and He's sent Cas and Gail and Sam and Dean to help. Those racist sons of bitches will finally pay. I will make sure of that, before I die. So you need to get on board, Son, or get out of the way." Then he stepped away from Paul and looked at Gail. "I apologize for my bad language, little lady," Henri said to her, and she smiled at him.

Paul stood there tight-lipped, looking at Henri. There were a lot of things he could say to the old man right now. He could say that he used to pray to God, but he'd never received a response, not even once. And he could say that as far as fathers went, Castiel had killed his for no apparent reason, and Henri needed to stop calling Paul his "Son". But he kept his mouth shut, because it was obvious that Henri had some kind of a personal score to settle with these Nazis, and really, they were all on the same page when it came to that particular thing.

"OK, I'm in," Paul said. He looked at Cas. "I'll help you get those guys, and then we can talk. But if you double-cross me - "

"I know. You'll kill me," Cas said wearily. He couldn't wait for this whole thing to be over.

Paul's lips twitched. Damn Castiel. He'd better not screw Paul over.

Cas's cell phone rang. It was Dean, telling him that he and Sam were waiting downstairs. Meet them out front of the hotel.

Gail sat in the front of the car, sandwiched between Sam and Dean. They'd been driving around for a while now, but it was getting dark, and she was disoriented. When they'd started off to retrace her route, she'd thought that she remembered, but now, the streets were all looking alike to her, and then darkness fell, rendering everything moot.

"Dammit!" she exclaimed, frustrated. Then she half-turned to look at the occupants of the back seat. "Sorry for my bad language, Henri," she quipped.

"Pas de probleme," he quipped in return. Henri was a little disappointed, but truthfully, not as much as he could have been. The men had been initiated into the club now, and the Nazi bastards were going to fit little Gail with a suicide vest. Surely his friends would be able to gather the evidence they needed tomorrow. And as far as this mysterious Tablet went, the one that Paul had referred to, there had been no further mention of it, and Henri supposed it was none of his business, anyway.

Cas sighed. "I'm sorry, Henri. We might as well drop you off at your home, and we'll call you once we have more news."

"That'll be fine, Cas," Henri said. He gave Dean the directions and then sat back, looking out the window.

Paul frowned. "What about me? What am I supposed to do until tomorrow?"

Dean rolled his eyes. He'd never heard a Demon whine so much. And what did he have to whine about? He was still alive, wasn't he? Considering who he was sitting in this car with, that alone was a miracle.

"You'll wait," Castiel said shortly. "That's what we'll be doing."

Paul's eyes shifted to Gail. "I'll bet that's not all you'll be doing."

Cas frowned, hard. "I could just kill you, instead. How would that be?"

Dean smirked. Attaboy, Cas.

Now it was Paul's turn to roll his eyes. "Fine, Castiel. I will be sitting in the hotel lobby in the morning."

"So will I," Henri said. "In fact, you can drop Paul at my house. We can keep each other company until the morning comes. I don't sleep much anymore these days."

Paul looked at Henri. "We don't sleep at all," he told the older man bluntly.

"Perfect," Henri said, unruffled. "I have a bottle of cognac and a deck of cards. I'm sure we can pass the time."

Paul thought about it for a moment, then gave Henri a brief nod. "OK. You're on."

Cas was relieved. He hadn't really known what to do with Paul. He didn't want Paul staying in his and Gail's room, and he couldn't stay in Sam and Dean's room, because they needed to sleep. And he didn't know if he should just allow Paul to roam around the city freely. He seemed a lot calmer than most of the Demons who were on the Earth, and he seemed sincere in wanting to help them take down the racist organization. But he was a Demon, and up until very recently, he had been in league with Lucifer. Who knew if he could be trusted? It was only Cas's feelings of guilt that prevented him from giving Paul back to Crowley right now. He HAD lied to Paul, and he had killed Paul's father, sending Paul on the wrong path to begin with. Cas was experiencing a crisis of conscience about that now, and that, along with a smattering of what Paul and Henri would have called "white guilt", was influencing his decision. But Henri's invitation had been a godsend, Cas thought with no irony at all. At least Paul would have a guardian for the evening.

They dropped Henri and Paul off at Henri's house, begging off an invitation from Henri to come inside for a drink.

"Some other time," Sam said to him. "I think we've had just about enough for today."

Henri nodded. He knew that Sam wasn't just talking about the alcohol. He could only imagine what had really taken place inside that bar. Then again, he didn't even want to try.

Gail had slid out of the front seat when they'd stopped the car, and as Sam got back in the front, she touched Henri's arm. "We'll get these guys," she said to him. "Don't you worry."

"I know, mon petite ange," Henri replied, smiling down at her.

Then Gail looked at Paul. She really didn't know what to make of him. Was he a bad guy? A good guy? Or somewhere in-between? She still wasn't sure exactly what had happened between him and Cas, but she and Cas could talk about it when they got back to the hotel.

"It was a pleasure getting to know you," Paul said to her, his lips twitching.

Gail was surprised. "We met before," she told him. "Don't you remember? In L.A. You told me that the woman can be the N-word of the world. And believe me, I'm finding that to be true with these Nazi guys. I'm just as eager to get them as you are. I'm not about to blow myself up, that's for sure."

Paul frowned. "I can't believe that's what they expect you to do."

Gail nodded. "I know. Me neither," she replied. "But to them, I'm just a mere woman. A dime a dozen. I'm eminently replaceable, I guess."

Paul let out a low whistle. "Maybe you do understand the struggle, then."

She smiled wryly. "Maybe I do, Paul. Maybe I do. But, 'We Shall Overcome', right? Goodnight, gentlemen." She made a fist and gestured with it, giving them a Black Power salute, then got in the back of the car and shut the door.

Dean drove off as Paul and Henri stared at the taillights, bemused.

"What a day," Henri said to the Demon.

Paul grinned. "Penny a point?"

The men laughed.

Sam and Dean went to their room, and Cas and Gail went to theirs. The brothers advised the couple that they would call in the morning when they were up and dressed. Or, if either Dean or Cas heard from Benoit or Etienne, they would communicate immediately.

Cas let himself and Gail into their room. "I need a shower," he said to her. "I'll see you in a moment." He went to the bureau and got a clean pair of shorts out of a drawer, then entered the bathroom and closed the door.

Gail undressed and got a nightshirt out of the bureau. She slipped it on over her head and then sat on the bed, waiting for Cas.

When he came out, he asked her for more details about her day at the clubhouse with Lise. She told him more about what they had been doing there, and then she scrambled off the bed to get her cell phone from her purse.

She showed him the pictures she'd taken of the wires. "I don't think these are really enough to prove anything, thought," she told Cas. "It just looks like a bunch of wires to me. And as far as what I overheard Jacqueline and Renee talking about, it's just my word against theirs. I tried to get into Benoit's office to see if there was anything incriminating in there, but it was locked."

Cas frowned. "I don't want you taking chances like that, Gail. These men are serious."

She looked at him. "I know they are. They want to blow me up, Cas."

"You know I will never let that happen," he said, putting his arms around her shoulders. He touched his forehead to hers. "You will not go there alone again. Now that we have been confirmed into the club, I'll make sure that I'm there with you at all times."

Gail kissed him on the cheek, and then she climbed off the bed with her cell phone in her hand, putting it back in her purse. Then she came back, taking both of his hands in hers.

"So, what happened at the bar?" she asked him softly.

Cas sighed. He described the scene in as much detail as he could bear, omitting only the crude comments the men had made about her. The horror mounted in her, and by the time he got to the moment they'd told him he had to bring an immigrant person into the bar and murder them in cold blood, Gail's heart sank. "Cas, no," she said quietly. She could only imagine how he'd felt at that moment. Thank God he'd had his idea about Paul. There was no way she was going to say anything negative about it now. Cas had been brilliant to think of that.

"But, why would he agree to help you?" Gail asked him. Paul had been ranting about Cas having lied to him when they'd gotten back from the catacombs, but of course, Gail had had no idea what they were talking about.

"Because he wants out of Hell, and I sort of promised him that if he helped us out in this situation, he could ascend," Cas said uncomfortably.

"What?!" Gail exclaimed. "But you don't have the authority to do that! Bobby doesn't even have the authority to do that anymore!"

"I know," Cas replied, tight-lipped. "But I was desperate. I have no idea what we're going to do about him once this mission is over. I guess we'll have to give him back to Crowley."

Gail thought about that. Well, wasn't that where Paul belonged? He was a Demon for a reason, wasn't he? "Why was Paul in Hell, Cas?" she asked her husband.

Castiel thought for a moment. "You know what? I have no clue," he told her.

Gail thought another moment, and then she said, "I have a crazy idea."

He gave her a half-smile. "That would be a normal idea, in our world."

She laughed merrily. "You're funny, sweetie." Cas smiled, pleased by her compliment. Then Gail continued, "We can ask Crowley to make Paul into a human."

Cas's smile faded. "I don't think that will work, Gail. He's not going to want to be mortal. And even if he agrees to that, when he dies, he will probably just go back to Hell, anyway. Your past misdeeds are not erased when there's a reassignment."

Gail sighed in frustration. She thought she'd been onto something there. "OK, let me think about it some more," she told him. "If he helps us defeat these guys, maybe we can go to bat for him with someone." But even as Gail was saying this, she wondered who that could possibly be.

Cas was looking troubled now, and she felt badly for him. What a messed-up day this had been, and the situation was bound to get worse before it got better. "Well, at least Paul got to be the sexiest, most handsome Angel ever, for a few minutes this afternoon," she teased.

Cas looked at her, and then he smiled slowly. "Do you really think so?" he asked her.

"Oh, now you're just fishing for a compliment," she countered.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. "Am I using the right bait?" he said. His lips were twitching now.

"It's a good start," Gail replied.

Cas put his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. He kissed her again, opening her mouth with his tongue. She responded enthusiastically, glad it was just him that she was kissing now. Although that had certainly been different.

They kissed for a minute or three, and then they were naked, and then they were making love. And she was very complimentary.

An hour or so later, they were taking a break, and they were talking some more about the current situation.

"You know, we never did find out where Sam and Dean got that car," Gail said.

Cas cocked an eyebrow. "With them, sometimes I find it's best not to ask," he responded dryly. "I hope they'll return the vehicle to wherever they 'borrowed' it from." He sighed. "Do you remember when a 'borrowed' vehicle was the worst moral dilemma we had to face?"

Gail nodded. "Yeah, I do, Cas. But I also remember the times that we went through far more terrible things, but we were apart. Isn't it nice to be able to talk to each other about our problems, and to comfort each other?"

He smiled. "Yes, it is," he told her. "And you have comforted me a great deal."

She was kissing his chest now, and he was smiling more widely. She knew he liked that. "Well, I think you need a bit more comforting," Gail said teasingly. She began to caress his body, and he reached for her, but she said, "Nope. Sorry. Not this time." She moved down his body. "This time it's all about you, for a change," she told him.

She took him in her mouth, and he gasped loudly. She made love to him for a couple of minutes, and then he was whimpering. "Please come here to me, Gail," he said, and she smiled. She stopped what she was doing and said, "I wanted it to be all about you."

"There is no me, without you," Cas said softly. "Come here, please."

She moved her body so that she was positioned at his mouth, and then she resumed. He put his hands on her hips, caressing her skin, and then he pulled her closer to him. He teased her with the tip of his tongue, and when she made a sound in her throat, he cried out her name. Then he made love to her with his mouth and his tongue, as he pushed forward into her mouth. She felt a wave of pleasure, and then so did he, and they both cried out at the same time.

He helped her down to lay beside him afterwards, and they cuddled for a while. Cas was kissing her softly. "Tomorrow, we will gather the evidence we need to have those people arrested, and then we will take the Tablet and go home," he said.

She nestled herself into his arms. "Sounds good to me," she said, smiling.

Benoit called Cas in the morning. "I heard about the initiation yesterday," Benoit said, and Cas could hear the smile in his voice. "Welcome to our ranks."

Cas frowned. "Merci," he said. "So, what's the plan going forward? After yesterday, I'm eager to see some more action." He made a face, and Gail sat up in bed beside him.

"Eat a good breakfast," Benoit said. "Soak up some of that alcohol. Then be in front of the hotel with Sam and Dean in an hour, and bring your wife, too. Etienne will pick the four of you up and bring you here to the clubhouse. We're having a meeting with all of the members, and I'll be giving all of you your assignments afterwards. You'll be very pleased."

Cas felt sick. "Fantastic," he said. "See you soon." He pushed End Call and looked at Gail.

She took a breath. "I'll get in the shower," she told him. "You call Sam and Dean, and have them meet us downstairs. Oh, and we'd better figure out what we're going to do about Henri, and Paul." Then she had an idea. "I'll tell you what. I'll run downstairs and see if they're in the lobby yet. If so, we'll get Henri some breakfast and then see if we can station them at a computer. If we can get some pictures while we're there, or some audio, maybe we can send it to them, and they can bring it to the police. What do you think?"

"That's a good idea," Cas said, impressed once again by her acumen. "And in the meantime, when we get there, we'll send Dean or Sam into Benoit's office, to try to get the Tablet," Cas said. "And this time, if they can't crack the safe, we'll resort to more drastic measures."

"Like what?" Gail asked him.

Cas smiled grimly. "They seem to be fond of explosives. Let's just leave it at that for now."

Gail hurried off to the shower.