It's my birthday. April 16. I looked over at the oven. It beeped once and I glided lazily over to the oven, pulled out the two pans of cake, one vanilla, one chocolate and let them cool while I went into the pantry and grabbed some cans of frosting, kit-kats, and some tubes of blue icing in the flavor of some kind of something. I just like the color. I hum to myself as I start the tedious process of making a cake. Flipping it onto a plate, frosting in between the two layers, and then around the entire thing, and then decorating it with the candy and scrawling a 'Happy 26 birthday Birdie!' I had taken to calling myself that name because Bernadette was way too long and I had certain bird like qualities that had come from some controversial gene therapy. Wings, Small, about 3 feet and when folded, tucked safely under my shirt or whatever jacket I was wearing and reached my knees. Grey, and a washed out lilac, they looked normalish; almost unnoticeable until I got agitated and they move.

I finished with the cake. It was messy, and some of the frosting had gotten on the counter but thats okay. A wet nose touched my leg and there was Mo, begging for a piece. I cut out a small slice and grabbed some of the vanilla and gave it to the aging dog. He smiled at me and then trotted off. I grabbed the cake plate and set it on the table and grabbed a candle and set it in the cake. I lighted it with a match and began to sing to myself.

"Happy birthday to me, Happy birthday to me, Happy birthday to me, HAppy birthday to me." It was supposed to sound joyous but, in my scottish accent and my glum mood, it didn't. I sighed and started to cut the cake. "Ferget et." I mumbled and started to eat it with a spoon. A knocking on the door cut me off from a fourth spoonful of cake. I figured it was just a ghost until I saw two shadows at the door and a very familiar black figure of an impala in the background.

I flew to the door and opened it. And there was my two friends. Who, for all I could've known, were dead. Sam and Dean Winchester. I chirped and tackled them, my 68 pound weight only causing the two to stumble. "Hey thar ye too galoots!" I squealed awkwardly. "Ah've missed ye too! Whaur hae ye bin?" They laughed at me and I laughed with them.

"Out and about." Dean answered somewhat lightheartedly. "Hunting."

"Well come awn in. Ah jist maed cake." I told them and led them inside, flying off a little bit off of the ground. "Sae, It's mah Birthdae."

"We know. Why else would we come?" Sam answered seriously.

"Because ye've missed thee ither 4 years." I said off handedly and then added on with a note of realization. "Ye too need mah halp!" They started as I jumped up and down. "Ye only come when ye need meh!"

"Maybe. We think you know something about the angels. The archangels specifically."

"Oh. So nuthin serious huh. Alreet." I nodded at them. "Whit do ye need to ken?"

"What they can do. Just everything really." Sam said and Dean gave him a look. I nodded and went to a vast staircase

"Allistor!" I called. "Great Grandpa Allistor!" A translucent, old mans figure showed up next to me and I turned to the ghost that had appeared. "Do ye ken whaur thae book on th' Angels? Th' Winchesters naed eet."

"The Winchesters? Why I have never heard of them." The voice was a posh british accent.

"Their family is ken on th' hunting thing." He nodded. The ghosts were my family, mostly hunters, of generations before- There were so many of them, mostly us. Before I could hunt I had to learn the entire genealogy of the family. Which didn't take long until I had to learn the ones in Scotland. THe spirits there were by the thousands, some had even hunted things like dragons until near extinction nonetheless, but it was them, her family. Even though they still made a big fuss to talk to me of the british ones because 'A lady does not brandish weapons'. I snorted at the memory of Kirkland. Bloody nobles.

"Now, if you want the book, you aren't going to find it." I fluttered up a few inches in surprise.

"But- but- Arthur-" I sputtered in disbelief "Thaur were always books. I have read-"

"Indeed you have Bernedette." The old man affirmed, "But you will not find a book because they are several. favorite part of the house. THey knew so much.

"Well I kept it Pronunciation is key in survival, bonnie." I nodded. "top shelf, third case. Blue Satin spines." I quickly flew up and retrieved them. I fluttered over to them and set them on the table.

"Cake?" I asked rhetorically. Those two loved my cooking- especially Dean. He was always talking about how he loves the days when he can sit down and eat something that wasn't cooked in the dirty microwave in a convenience store. They opened the books delicately and started reading. I cut them cake and laid it out in front of them with forks and they start eating, careful not to get crumbs or drips of icing on the ancient books.

There was a knock on my door and I opened it again. "Hello," I answered at the strange man in front of me. Close to Deans age and in a simple outfit and a tan trench coat. "Uhm hello. Dean Left me in the car. I was wondering if I could come in."

"Uh, sure. They never mentioned..." I looked back at them and they didn't turn. "Well, lad, 'have ye got a name?"

"Castiel," he answered with a small smile. I flitted inside and he followed, I prepared another slice of cake for this Castiel who started having a conversation with the two. My wings beat with the humming beat as I grabbed a cookbook to a marked page with spicy noodles. That sounded like a good dinner. I started taking inventory.

"You bairns wanae stae ah niet?" I asked abruptly and they looked up in confusion. "Aye? Nae?"

"Sure." Dean looked at me and flashed his 'Lady killer smile' and I rolled my eyes.

"Ah supoose wee thin' amuses ye bairns. Ye ejjit." I laughed as he flushed and Sam started to chuckle and tied to cover it up with a cough. I made a list of stuff I needed to buy. "Spicy Noodles alright fer ye three." THey nodded and continued to mutter and take notes in the Journal. I eyed it with caution. "Isn't thae yer Da's? The Journal ah mean."

THey looked a little sad and I gasped. "Nae... He.. dineae... did 'e?" They nodded again. "Oh." I grabbed the list. "Ahm goen tae thae store." I grabbed some cokes, the green glass clinking together as the sharp bottle caps cut into my hands. A satisfactory clank at I placed it front of te three. "An guys?" They murmured a what.

"Ah dinnae ken whit y'all ere doing but caw canny. And remember thae it taks a laung spoon tae sup wi' thae davil." They nodded solemnly because I had a feeling that in eight years, they had been hunting more than demons.


Authors Note! Sorry for the accent! I tried my hardest and I hope it fits to you guys standards... Review and Favorite and Follow!