Chapter 1

"You see him?" Dean asked without looking up. His fingers deftly fed seven bullets into the magazine of his nickel-plated 1911 from muscle memory.

Sam scanned the shipping yard through an old pair of binoculars they had gotten from Bobby years ago.

"Yeah," Sam's trained eyes spotted the shady figure moving almost indistinctly through barely noticeable shadows. "I got him."

Dean slammed the clip into the butt of his weapon and pulled back the slide, releasing it with little effort, loading a bullet into the chamber. Guns were no use against vampires, but as far as Dean was concerned, the more ammunition, the better.

The brothers stepped out of the front seat of the Impala and tapped the doors quietly shut so as not to alert their prey to their presence. Castiel stepped out of the back seat.

"Cas, you really don't have to come along on an everyday vamp hunt," Sam said, eyebrows raised. "We can handle it."

"I know," Cas replied innocently, lips turned upward, eyes wide. "I just thought we could spend some quality time together." He looked from Sam to Dean. "Hang out."

Sam and Dean shared an exasperated glance. Dean licked his lips.

"Sure, Cas." Dean grabbed his keys and crossed to the trunk of the Impala. He reached inside and chose a machete. "Here."

He held the machete toward Cas and closed the trunk gingerly. He stared at it as if he didn't know what it was.

"Dean," Sam whispered.

"Hmm?"

"He's an angel."

"So?"

"So, he doesn't need a knife to kill a vampire."

"Yes," Cas agreed. "In fact, I can go …"

"Oh, come on, Cas, don't be a buzz kill," Dean whined.

"A bu- what?"

"A buzz kill. You use your mojo, it ruins the fun," Dean explained.

"Oh. Ok."

Again, Dean held the blade out for Case. This time, Cas took it. They made their way silently toward the shipping yard, three armed hunters on the prowl. As they approached the container closest to which Sam had seen the vamp, he motioned Dean to his left and Cas to his right. The men split up.

Dean couldn't see any signs of movement, not even moonlight reflecting on the containers; he couldn't hear any rustling, not even the slightest hint of wind, but he could sense something. The hairs on his neck stood on end. His muscles tensed. He felt uneasy. Like something was watching him. He continued moving, gun aimed forward, a hunting knife in his left hand, holding the gun steady, eyes darting left to right. Still nothing.

The container on his right was too still. Something was off. His hunter's sense told him the vamp was around the corner, lying in wait. But he was ready—ready to chop that vamp's head off.

As he rounded the corner a black cat hissed and ran. Dean started a little. His breathing sped up then slowed in relief. He sighed and lowered his gun from the tense, ready to fire position. He turned to start down the next aisle. That's when the vamp jumped him, fangs bared. The force knocked Dean into the container. Dean dropped both gun and knife to keep the fangs at bay.

Whoosh. Ping.

Within the blink of an eye, the vamp's head was fixed to the wall of the container with an arrow to the throat, which had missed piercing Dean's ear by scarcely half an inch. Dean hardly had time to react before Sam was running toward him yelling his name loudly. Castiel followed; he jogged behind Sam, soundlessly, eyes searching for the shooter.

"Who the Hell did that?" Sam asked, breathing heavily.

"I don't know," Dean replied, making his way out from behind and under the vampire's body. He finished the decapitation.

Castiel frowned deeply and stared into the distance beyond Sam and Dean in the direction from which the vampire had attacked.

"What is it, Cas?" Sam asked.

Flutter of wings.

Cas was gone.

"Cas? … Cas!"

"I hate it when he does that!" Dean griped.

"OVER HERE!" Cas's voice echoed from a distance.

Cas's voice had come from just outside the shipping yard. Dean and Sam ran at a full sprint. When they arrived, they saw a peculiar sight: Castiel and a woman were staring at each other in complete silence. The woman—who was lean but curvy and dressed in tight black pants and a black tank top—held a crossbow that had been broken in half. Her back remained to Sam and Dean, but it was clear that her eyes were locked with Cas's. Cas, meanwhile, sported a dopey smile and appeared to be stumbling over an apology.

"Um, this is yours," Cas handed the woman an arrow. She snatched it from his hand.

The unceremonious sliding of the boys' boots in the gravel caught the attention of the wavy-haired brunette; she turned to look. Now, it was Dean's turn to sport the stupid grin.

"Evie," he said through a huge toothy smile.

Sam's head snapped from Evie and Cas to his brother. His mouth opened then closed. His brow raised then furrowed. His face couldn't decide what the appropriate reaction should be.

Evie's somewhat bemused expression immediately disappeared upon seeing Dean.

"Dean Winchester," she said with a hint of disdain.

Dean started to move toward Evie, possibly for a hug, a kiss … after all, they had a history. But Evie glowered Dean's grin right off his face. He stopped short.

"What an unpleasant surprise," she finished.

"You two know each other?" Sam asked Dean.

"You must be Sam," Evie said.

"Uh, yeah," Sam acknowledged.

"Who's your friend?" Evie asked, pointing toward Cas with the one intact arrow she had left—the one she had shot directly at the hot man thing in the trench coat.

She wasn't making any sudden moves. She had fired at arrow at this guy's head from 10 feet away, and he was still standing. He had caught the arrow with one hand, grabbed the bow from her and broke it in twain with his other hand like it was nothing. The fact that he was working with Dean Winchester eased her concerns a little, but she still needed to know what she was dealing with.

"This is Cas,"Dean said. "Cas … Evelyn Foster. Evie … Cas."

Cas stuck out his hand. He had seen humans do it as a form of greeting. Evie grasped it; she had a firm handshake for a woman. She tried to release Cas's hand, but Cas held on.

"I am Castiel, angel of the Lord," he managed as he continued to gaze into her eyes, grinning stupidly.

"Angel?"

"Yes," he replied, still holding her hand.

"Like an … angel?"

"Yes."

"Oh. That's new," Evie said.

"Um, so, Evie … what do you do?" Cas smiled nervously.

"…. I'm a hunter," she said, flatly, "Remember, I tried to kill you?"

"Of … Of course," Cas said. He opened his mouth to make another attempt at conversation, even though he had no idea what he would say. It was hard to think around this woman.

"Cas," Dean said tersely.

Cas quickly released Evie's hand.

"So …" Evie talked to Sam and Dean, while Castiel gazed at her awkwardly – normally this kind of thing would make her uncomfortable, so uncomfortable she might have to assault somebody, but there was something special about this angel guy … he was hot, too. "Do we want to get rid of that body or …?"

Dean flipped the right turn signal of the Impala and pressed lightly on the brake. A partially lit "Vacancy" sign at the Motor Lodge beckoned. Less than a mile behind, Evie tapped the brake of her 1997 black Ford truck—well, it had been hers for two months, at least. She had hot-wired it in Missouri. She had chosen it over a sportier or more fuel-efficient car for one reason: the bed had a huge toolbox with a pad lock—the perfect place for weapons.

AC/DC's "Back in Black" blared from the Impala's speakers as Dean pulled the car into the parking lot. The windows were cracked and the rock music poured through the openings. Evie pulled the old truck into the spot to the right. "Back in Black" blasted from the truck's speakers, too. Evie and Dean caught eyes. Dean was still Dean, mouth open and head bobbing. He smiled and winked at Evie as he realized they were listening to the same song. Sam's face scrunched in a comical disbelief.

They both pulled keys from the ignitions of their respective vehicles at the same time. All went silent.

"I'll get the room," Dean said.

"OK," replied Sam. "I'll get the bags."

Evie reached into the truck to retrieve her bag, showing off her shapely rear. Her shirt raised in the back, creating a gap of smooth, milky flesh. Cas trotted around the car and appeared behind her.

"Evie," he called, eagerly. Her head tilted slightly to acknowledge him, but she didn't turn around. "Let me get your bag for you."

Evie stood upright, placing a duffle bag on the driver's seat. She tried not to reveal the coy grin tugging at her lips. She turned abruptly and tossed the keys to Cas.

"OK," she agreed. "Just don't go through my underwear."

She headed toward the poorly lit motel lobby without another word. Dean half smiled at Sam and mouthed "Oh, yeah." He followed Evie. As he watched her hips sway, Cas felt a very familiar feeling: bemusement; and a somewhat unfamiliar one: desire.

Evie confidently opened the glass door with the open sign in the window. The clerk—a mustached man of about forty five, wearing a blue plaid shirt and a jean jacket that perfectly matched the shade of his pants—hastily put down the latest copy of Juggs.

"Y'all need a room?" he asked, standing.

Dean beamed. "Yes."

Evie scowled and glared at Dean. The man had already grabbed a key off the wall. He placed a key attached to a large, red, plastic diamond featuring a white 9 on the counter.

"Uh, make that two."

"Oh," the clerk looked embarrassed. "Ok, then." He picked another key off the wall. Number 10.

"That'll be thirty, even. It's usually twenty per room, but on account of y'all might probably kiss and make up sometime tonight, I can discount one of the rooms a bit," he said through a thick country accent and pursed his lips and nodded in a knowing "Women!" look. Dean found this guy to be fairly amusing. Evie thought he was quite the opposite. He was still nodding at Dean as if they had some kind of brilliant inside joke as Evie snatched the Number 10 key off the counter and walked away. She brazenly shoved the door open with one outstretched hand.

Castiel and Sam waited by the vehicles with several bags on the ground. Cas was holding Evie's. She was annoyed at Dean, but she put on a pleasant face for him; he seemed so sweet. His face lit up when he saw her approach.

"Thanks," she said as she took her bag. She hesitated a moment, but couldn't think of anything else to say. She held up the key, showing the number to both of them. "Ten."

Just then, Dean loudly exited the lobby, opening the door with his back, laughing and pointing at the redneck inside. He was laughing, too. "Thanks, man!"

"Night, boys," Evie said, shortly. She walked to her room without another word, before Dean could arrive and try to hit on her again. She unlocked and opened the door, and quickly closed it and turned the deadbolt. She flicked on the light switch and leaned against the door. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, then out again. She had thought about Dean throughout the years; she had thought about being with him, and without him. Now, she remembered how much she enjoyed being without him.

Evie had followed her usual nightly routine. First, she hid a pistol under her pillow and propped a shotgun behind the door. Then she took a long, hot shower and changed into her favorite, soft cotton pajamas – a mismatched black tank top and pair of bum-grazing blue, striped shorts. Now, she was brushing her teeth and preparing to curl up with a good book … tonight it would be THE good book. She was a little ashamed to admit, even to herself, that she had never read the Bible cover to cover. She usually favored fiction; she could kill a good Stephen King in one night; but, tonight was different. Not only had she learned that angels were real, but she had met one. In person, or whatever.

She was still mulling it all over when she heard a light rap at the door. With the toothbrush closed between her lips, she quickly grabbed the .45 she had stashed under the pillow and moved toward the door. She positioned her thin form to use the door as a barrier, hiding the pistol behind her back as she turned the knob and slowly cracked the door.

She opened it just enough to peek at a shadowy Castiel.

Evie's face relaxed, morphing from caution to pleasant surprise, as she gazed upon Castiel's earnest face. He stared back from the shadows, a grin forming on his full lips – a grin that lifted his entire face, all the way to those big, puppy dog eyes.

"Hi," said Cas.

Evie opened the door wide, brandishing the pistol from behind her back. She smirked. It would have looked sexier without the toothbrush sticking out of the corner of her mouth. She thought she looked sexy. Luckily, so did Cas.

Evie realized the toothbrush was still in her mouth. She held up a finger. "Just a sec." She waved Cas in with the gun still in her hand. "Come in."

Cas slowly walked into the room as Evie crossed to the sink. She spit and quickly rinsed. She turned to see Cas standing awkwardly in the middle of the room and holding something fairly sizable behind his long, tan coat. Before Evie could ask what it was, Cas pulled out a heavy-looking, solid wood crossbow.

Evie's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe her eyes.

They stared at each other for several seconds, both in awe – she of the great work of art Cas had brought her, and he of her. This was a feeling Cas hadn't felt before. He had felt things when he was human, things he could only identify from description. He determined that he had felt attraction for April and probably more than a little "chemistry," as humans said, with Meg (in retrospect). But this was different. The depth of his emotions for April were superficial; for Meg, a bit more than that, but still in the shallow end of the pool.

Cas now felt as if he had waded into the deep end of the pool. And he found that he liked swimming.

"Um, thanks!" Evie expelled, a little louder than she intended. She inhaled, again, louder than she intended and reached out for the bow.

"Oh!" exclaimed Cas. "Of course." He placed the crossbow in Evie's outstretched hands, which gave way under the weight of this exquisite weapon.

Evie smiled. "Nice!" She eyed the bow intently, examining every crevice, every carved detail. Her smile changed a bit. "This is old," she said, never removing her eyes from the curves of her weapon.

"Yes," Cas volunteered happily. "It was carved by a man in Bulgaria in 1562."

"How did you find it?" Evie asked.

"I examined your last bow …" his head dropped a bit, shamefully. "And, I discovered that it bore a mark. It was the name of its maker. So, I followed it to Bulgaria, and listened."

"Listened?"

"To humans, yes. They led me to an old man in a tiny village. He was happy to make a new weapon for you, but I thought you would prefer an older model. This one had been in his family for centuries. Rumor has it that this particular crossbow was used to kill vampires."

Evie gave Cas a radiant smile. "That's fascinating."

Cas smiled and looked at the floor, feeling more feelings he wasn't used to. He thought this was embarrassment, but to his understanding, an embarrassed person didn't want attention. He, however, wanted Evie's attention. He loved seeing her eyes focused on him.

"So …" Evie began. She turned and gently placed the crossbow on the small round table. Its girth nearly covered the entire surface. "How did an angel of the Lord hook up with the brothers Winchester?"

"Well, it's a long story."

"I'd love to hear it."

Evie crossed the room and plopped down on the bed. She tapped a spot next to her, inviting the angel to sit.

Cas nervously accepted her invitation. As soon as he sat, Evie turned to face him, a bent leg the only barrier between them.

"Uh," Cas looked up at Evie. "Where should I start?"

"At the beginning, I guess," said Evie.

So, Cas started at the beginning. His beginning. He talked for hours about his creation, the beginning of time, his brothers and sisters in Heaven, his duty to watch the Earth. Throughout the tale, Evie watched him intently. At points, she smiled. Cas didn't notice Evie's increasing fatigue until he was halfway through the story of the Garden of Eden, and Evie nodded off. Cas stopped talking and silently observed Evie. She was propped against a pillow, her head leaning on her own shoulder. Even asleep she looked graceful and poised. Cas stood gingerly and pulled the little chain to turn off the lamp. Darkness covered them. He carefully picked up Evie's limp body and turned down the sheets. He placed her body underneath the covers with her head perfectly in the middle of the pillow and brushed a lock of hair off her forehead.

Evie's head turned toward Castiel's hand. She never woke up.

Cas sat on the end of the bed and watched Evie sleep. Under his watch she slept peacefully. A welcome change from the usual insomnia. She was having pleasant dreams. He stayed, silent and still as a statue, covered in shadow, for an hour.

Evie awoke at 7 AM and dressed quickly. She had never been much of a girly girl: She didn't wear makeup or use hair products, and perfume was something to be saved for rare occasions. Today was one of those rare occasions.

Four hard knocks on the door interrupted her last spritz. She gently placed the five-year-old bottle of flowery liquid atop a pile of clothing in her open duffle bag. Opening the door revealed Dean and Sam.

Dean smiled awkwardly at Evie, and Evie stared back.

"Uh, morning, Evie," Sam interjected, desperate to end the staring contest.

"Hey," Evie said blandly as she opened the door wider and moved aside.

Evie zipped her bloated duffle as the boys entered the room. She looked up and noticed she had forgotten a pair of black heels. She unzipped the bag and stuffed the shoes in. When she zipped the bag for the second time, it didn't completely close.

"You still have those?" Dean asked with a coy smile that faded quickly under Evie's icy glare.

Flutter of wings.

"Cas!" Evie exclaimed with excitement.

Evie approached Cas quickly, gently touching his chest. She leaned in slightly.

"Where did you go last night?"

Dean butted in before Cas could answer. "Last night?"

Cas's eyes darted toward Dean.

"Cas brought me this!" Evie hefted the crossbow up off the table and proudly displayed it for Sam and Dean to see. She admired it again.

"So … You guys hungry?" Evie asked.

Dean just stared at her slack-jawed.

"Of course, you are," she said, with a slight cock of her head. She grabbed her duffle bag and brushed past Sam and Dean with ease.

Sam followed first. It took Dean a few seconds to break eye contact with Cas. Then, he followed, too. Cas tried to follow Dean, but Dean slammed the door in his face. "He must be upset about something," Cas thought, a little confused. He could have teleported through the door, but he decided to open it instead. If he was going to live on Earth, he should probably do things like a human. Stepping out, Cas saw a surprising sight: a sheriff's deputy in tan pants and a brown windbreaker was examining Evie's truck. The lights on his car were flashing red and blue.

Evie, Sam, and Dean walked swiftly, heads down, toward the Impala. Cas did his best to imitate them. When it came to human affairs, imitating Dean usually worked. The boys made sure to block the officer's view of Evie as best they could. No telling what a cop would do if he saw a 450-year-old crossbow. They offloaded Evie's things into the trunk with precise, almost-choreographed moves. The trunk was open and shut again in the blink of an eye. All four piled into the car, Dean in the driver's seat, Sam next to his brother, and Evie and Cas in the back. They pulled out of the parking lot just as the officer turned to walk back to his car to report the stolen truck and the massive amounts of weaponry in the toolbox.

"You're stealing cars now?" Dean looked at Evie in the rearview, judging.

Evie sighed and diverted her eyes. "I … might be wanted in a few states," she admitted. She met Dean's gaze and shrugged.

"Oh, OK," Dean started, sarcastically. "Thanks for letting us know."

"Hey, I didn't know how this was going to play out," she responded. Seeing the questions in Dean's eyes, she continued, "I mean, I didn't know if we were going to stick together or if you were going to bolt again."

That caught Dean off guard. His face relaxed and he sighed. This was not an argument he wanted to get into, especially now. He could feel Sam's judgmental glare burning into the side of his face and Evie's burning a hole in the rearview.

"OK. We'll drive until we're out of this county," he said with the leader's confidence he had grown accustomed to portraying. "Then, we'll stop for breakfast."

He glanced back at the mirror to see Evie's reaction. He caught her and Cas grinning at each other. He didn't like how this was playing out.