Author's Note: I do not in any way, shape, or form lay any claim to the ownership of anything that is related to the TV show, Supernatural. I only claim my character that was created based off of this series, Azriel. Please do not steal her, or any of my work from me. All original Supernatural ownership goes to the wonderful creator, Eric Kripke. This fanfiction has been rated M due to language, nudity, and sexual content. Reviews/critiques are welcomed.

Soulless Desire...

"Call me sometime."

Sam shook his head as he crumbled up the piece of paper that the female had scribbled her phone number onto. He had tried to get her to ditch her friends and go back to his hotel room with him, but she all she had done was slip him her number and told him to call her. Her loss though. He had just finished his hunt the night before and had thought to spend an extra night in the town to get a little rest and figure out where to go from there. He had put in a call to Samuel looking for anything, but nothing had been sent his way. And even after doing a bit of research online, he still came up with nothing. Shame, but its not like he could go out and force the monsters to do bad things. And even if he did, it would not be as much fun than just hunting them.

He slipped the hotel key into the lock and pushed his way into his dark room. Dropping the wadded up slip of paper into the small waste basket, he closed the door behind him and made his way toward the night table that sat between the two beds. Flicking the light on, he pulled out his gun, setting it onto the night table, and began to unbutton his shirt. Even though he was unlucky in getting the female home, he had the smell of her perfume on him. It wasn't too powerful of a smell, but it was still annoying to smell like some bimbo. So a quick shower to get the smell off of him and then he would head out to find some food. "She's going to think about you tonight. While she lays in bed next to her husband she will think of you instead." The sound of a voice didn't make him jump since he recognized it instantly. Instead he just finished unbuttoning his shirt, pulled it off and then turned to look at who had spoken. Standing at his door was a female with wavy dark hair, vibrant green eyes, and in her small hands was the name and number the bimbo from the bar had given him. She was reading it with a blank expression on her face. "Jealous?"

That one word made her look at him, the paper falling from her hands to land in the small basket again. For a moment they just stood there and stared at one another. The hunter wearing a smirk, whilst the archangel studied him. She had been watching him ever since he had gone into the bar. Keeping to the back and away from his line of sight, she had watched him. Observed as he threw back a few beers, smiled over at the bimbo, watched as the female had made her way over to him and proceeded to push her chest out toward him. Times were so much different than before her entombment. Females these days wore the smallest and tightest clothes, smothered their faces in make-up, and then proceeded to do anything they could to catch the eye of a lover and coerce them in going home with them. And for what? An hour or two of drunken sex that they would possibly end up regretting the next morning. So foolish. So then, why was she there? Why had she watched him for so long? And why was she now standing in his hotel room, trying to keep her expression blank when all she wanted to do was go over and press her body against his hard one? Because there was something different about him. Something that made her hesitate and keep a guarded expression.

"I do not feel jealousy. Besides I have actually felt your body against my own, she has not. Whilst she gets to dream, I am allowed to remember." That made Sam's smirk grow into a smile, even causing him to chuckle a bit. But even as he laughed there was no warmth coming from him. He was cold; so very cold. This realization made her head tilt to the side a bit, brows furrowing. "You are different, Sam." It was not a question. And her words made him stop, but it did not make his smile go away. If she had to use one word to describe Sam, aside from using the word 'cold', she would have instantly said 'predatory'. The way he stood there, the way he had moved at the bar, even the way he had looked at the female; all of it had been very predatory. As though he had been searching for the right prey to take down and carry away for his pleasure. "How did you get out of the cage, Sam? Why do I see you in front of me, but feel that you are some place else?"

Her questions made his smile disappear. She would not have said that he was disappointed or anything such as that. It was merely him refusing to put on the charade and keep smiling. He didn't answer her though. Instead he silently moved to her, placed her hand on his bare chest and stared right into her eyes. She could feel his heartbeat beneath, but it was far to steady. He had alcohol in his system, but his body seemed to not be registering it. Would it pick up in pace if she were to strip down to nothing right there? What if she dropped to her knees and proceeded to suck him off; would that make his heart race and skip in beats? Her questions must have been evident in her eyes, for Sam was now pressing her against the door. His body keeping her locked in place, hands digging into her hair, lips and tongue devouring her mouth. The kiss was hard, rough, and meant to make any female instantly grow wet between her legs and beg the other to fuck her. So then why did Azriel disappear from that spot and reappear in the middle of the room?

Sam practically fell against the door once she was gone. He shot a glance over his shoulder and once again that smirk was in place. "Look, if you don't want to have sex with me, I can always give that chick from the bar a call instead." He turned and began to reach down toward the waste basket. Would he really call her? Probably not, but he wanted to know if Azriel would respond. If she would take the bait or call his bluff. When his hazel eyes saw her hands pull off her jacket and pull her shirt up over her head, he knew that she had believed him. She stood before him in only her boots and pants; having not understood the reasoning for bras. "You won't answer my questions, that is fine. But do not read too deeply into this." He nodded that he understood, but he did not believe her. She claimed that nothing was going to come of them sleeping together, but he knew the truth. He knew how she reacted to him, how she thought about him when they were not together; the last was obvious due to her standing in his hotel room. Who knows how long it had been since he had last prayed to her. And from her questions, she had thought him dead. Yet here she stood before him, topless and wanting him. "Get on the bed, Azriel."

A command and one that she followed. Inside she was trembling from a need that was so strong, it was an amazement that she was not trembling even on the outside. But she needed to keep control tonight. Needed to make him believe that this moment meant nothing to her; just a way for her to relieve an ache that had been growing inside of her. This was in no way her way of finding out if it really was him. If he truly was there and not some impostor sent to throw her world into chaos. Nor was this her feeding a happiness that had been blooming the moment she learned that he was back.

She watched as he pulled off her boots and then her pants, which were followed by his own clothes coming off. He hung thick and heavy between his legs, and the sight of him made her tongue snake out to wet her lips. That predatory look was still in his eyes as he crawled his way up the bed to hang above her. Yes, this was nothing more than sex.

Oh how much of a liar she was in that moment...

End Note: This is just a little something that came to mind one night. If Azriel was around when Sam had been walking around without a soul, I could still see her wanting him. And though she would tell him, as well as herself, that she was merely there to 'scratch an itch', both of them would know that in truth she was there for him. That she had grown feelings for him and would be unable to keep away from him.

I may add to this later on, but for now it is just a small one-shot. Please review, and if enough people ask [or I merely get the urge/inspiration] then I may add more to it and actually go into the sweaty details of this 'meaningless' sex. Thank you for reading!