Chapter 2 - Follow You, Follow Me

Six months had passed now, and while some things had changed considerably, others had not.

Frank and Jody were sitting on the couch at the bunker, watching TV. They sat side by side almost all the time now. Lucifer, Metatron and Aurielle were still out there, and the group was no further ahead in finding any of them since the day that Gail had disappeared. Jody had taken a leave of absence from the Sheriff's position for a while. But as time went on and the investigation stalled, she had started to consider going back to Sioux Falls. They were losing hope.

One night, Jody had been sitting in the bunker's kitchen having a beer when Frank came in. "You couldn't sleep, either?" Jody said to him. He gave her a look, then crossed over to the fridge to get himself a beer.

Jody cursed herself. Of course he couldn't sleep. His sister was still missing, and there were no leads on her, either. The only guy who was more crazy than Frank was Cas. Cas just floated around here like a morose ghost. Then he would pop out for a while, for some more futile searching. Then he would pop back in and hover over Sam and Dean on their computers, asking them if they had found anything, anything at all. Then he would pace the floor for a while, then pop out again.

Frank was a different kind of crazy. He was just very quiet, and he stared off into space for long periods of time. Trying to think of anything he could to help them in their search. Cas questioned Frank incessantly. What had Gail been like when she was a young girl? Where did she like to go? What did she like to do? Had she ever said anything to her brother about the kind of life she would have liked to have lived? The kind of person she would have liked to have become? Had she said anything to Frank when they'd all been training together? If Lucifer had induced amnesia in her, perhaps Gail had created a new persona for herself. There must be something they could latch onto, some characteristic of hers. When Frank said she'd always loved to read, Cas went to every library he'd found on Google, and every bookstore, starting in their state and radiating outwards. He was grasping at straws, and he knew it. The others mainly left him alone, because they could see how broken up he was, and they had no idea how to deal with him. But he and Frank had nearly come to blows one day when Frank had finally told Cas to back off with the constant questions. Frank missed his sister too, and Cas should know that if he thought of anything that could be remotely interpreted as a clue, Frank would let Cas know. But until then, Cas needed to ease up. He was driving everybody crazy. Cas had freaked out, saying that nobody understood how he felt, not even Frank. Cas had then swept all of the dishes off the kitchen table, just as the humans had been about to sit down to eat. Then he had popped outside to calm himself down. It wasn't their fault, it was his, he reminded himself. Then he had popped back into the kitchen, apologizing to everyone and then getting down on his hands and knees to clean up the mess. Frank had gotten down to help him, and the two of them had hugged each other and cried. Jody had had to turn away so that no one would see the tears running down her own face. For some reason, she hadn't wanted Frank to see her crying. And the next morning, there had been a brand new set of dishes on the table, with a note of apology from Cas. He had taken to the wind again, to continue his frantic but fruitless search.

"I'm sorry, Frank," Jody said as he sat down beside her, uncapping his beer. "I know this has been really hard on you. Everybody's been tiptoeing around Cas, but Gail's your sister. You must be going nuts."

Frank sighed. "Yeah, Jody, I am. Do you think Lucifer's got her?"

Jody stirred uncomfortably. "I don't know, Frank. But I can't help but think like a cop. If he does, why haven't we heard from him? If he's holding her hostage, why hasn't there been some kind of demand from him?"

Frank was nodding. "I know. It doesn't make any sense. Maybe we're just being paranoid. Maybe she's just out there by herself somewhere. I taught her street smarts; she's probably doing just fine." Then the giant lump formed in his throat, and he put his beer bottle down. "What are we going to do, Jody?" he asked her.

Jody put her hand on his arm. "I don't know, Frank. I wish I knew what to tell you. I wish I could...oh, hell, you know what I wish. I wish she was back here with us. I wish you didn't have to go through this, Frank."

Then they had looked into each other's eyes, and then they had kissed. Frank had smiled faintly. "I've been trying to work up the courage to do that for a long time now," he told her.

Jody smiled thinly. "I've seen you fight. I never thought lack of courage was a problem for you."

"That's different," Frank said softly. "This is way scarier than Hunting." Then he kissed her again, and Jody put her arms around him. When they came apart, they nodded at each other. This was something that would definitely have to be explored further. But not right now. Frank wouldn't be capable of exploring anything until Gail was back with them, safe and sound, Jody knew. And she had understood.

Still, they had begun gravitating towards each other physically after that, and even though they weren't demonstrative about it, the others had begun to notice, and exchange glances about it.

Frank was doing the customary male thing, hogging the remote, flipping idly from channel to channel. Jody smiled. As soon as the sperm met the egg and they determined the baby was going to be a boy, she could picture a remote, clutched in the baby's tiny fist. But she didn't really mind. Frank needed the distraction.

Suddenly, Robbie came running over and launched himself between them, jumping into Frank's lap. Jody smiled again. The kid had fallen for Frank, hard, ever since Gail's brother had brought the boy's comic books and action figures to the bunker that first time. Frank had had Ethan and Chuck take him and Dean over a couple more times since, and now Robbie's bedroom in the bunker was full of his possessions, looking almost the same as his old room had. Frank had spent countless hours since with the kid on his lap, reading his comic books with him. He had started to introduce Robbie to some of the classics, too: the Hardy Boys mysteries were a recent favourite. Frank told Robbie that the Hardy boys were like Sam and Dean in real life. Helping people, solving cases. Robbie had liked that a lot, and he had looked at Sam and Dean with such admiration then that they'd had giant lumps in their throats. Robbie had also taken to calling Bobby Grandpa God, a habit Felicia couldn't seem to break, even though she had admonished Robbie repeatedly about it. It was sacrilege, she said. But Bobby had laughed it off. Let him say it if he wants, Bobby had said. He actually thought it was damn cute. Robbie was in awe of Cas whenever he was there, and Cas was kind to the boy, but he was too sad and preoccupied to give the child the attention he craved. Once, Robbie had asked Cas about "Professor Gail", and Cas had had to wink out of the bunker so everyone wouldn't see him break down, sobbing. He sat in the corner crying silently enough as it was.

"Oof," Frank grunted, as Robbie's foot kicked a very sensitive spot.

Jody smirked. "So, you want kids someday, do you?"

"That might be a moot point, now," Frank quipped, shifting uncomfortably. But he grabbed Robbie around the waist and tickled him, smiling. That did Jody's heart good to see. Robbie's easy affection had been good medicine for Frank.

"Frank! Stop it!" Robbie giggled, squirming in Frank's arms.

"You know the magic word to make that happen, don't you?" Frank said, still tickling the boy.

"Yeah. 'Now'!" Robbie said. Frank laughed, and he put his hand out, palm up. Robbie gave him a high-five. "That's my boy," Frank said, smirking.

As Robbie settled down and looked at the TV, Jody shook her head slowly, smiling at Frank. "I think you've got a fan, there," she told him.

"I'll try not to let it go to my head," Frank said dryly. He tousled Robbie's hair and continued to channel-surf.

"Wait," Jody said. "Go back for a minute."

Frank backtracked, and Jody said, "That's the guy. I'm sure of it." She looked behind her. "Hey, Linda! Come here for a minute."

Linda was at the table playing cards with Kevin, Becky and Chuck, and she looked up. She gave the others a shrug and put her cards face down on the table, then she walked over to stand behind Frank and Jody. "What?" she said.

Jody gestured to the TV. "Isn't this the guy we saw in Indianapolis?"

Linda looked at the TV. "Yeah," she confirmed. "What's he doing on TV here? That was just a local cable station, I thought."

"Well, he's made the big time now, I guess," Jody replied. "This station is national."

"What's the deal with this guy?" Frank asked them. The women had been talking, but from what Frank could hear, he was looking at a garden-variety televangelist show. "Why are you talking about this guy?" he asked them.

"Because he was hilarious," Jody said.

"He was outrageous, that's what he was," Linda said, frowning. She and Jody differed in opinion about that. Linda had also found him faintly amusing, but, maybe because she was an Angel now, she had also been a little put out by what he'd been saying. She guessed the controversial way he'd had of putting things had paid off for him, though. He was probably lining his pockets quite well, courtesy of all of the gullible people out there. "And I don't know if that's appropriate viewing for Robbie," Linda continued. "I remember he was pretty racy."

Frank looked at her. "He's a preacher, Linda."

Linda shook her head. "Doesn't matter. You should have heard the way he talked."

"Well, I can't hear him, if we all keep talking," Frank retorted.

Linda shrugged. "Okay, Frank. Just don't blame me if Felicia yells at you when Robbie says some of those words out loud."

Now Frank was really intrigued. So was Kevin, who'd heard what his mother had said. A TV preacher who used rough language? Now this, he had to see.

"I guess you all heard about that ocean liner that capsized in the Baltic Sea," the Rev was saying. "Well, that's just the beginning, folks. Ships sinking is the next sign. There will be more of them going down. So, I wouldn't be taking any cruises in the next little while, if I were you. If you want to go down, there's a much better way to do that. On each other. Am I right, ladies and fellas?"

"I told you," Linda said.

Holy crap, Frank thought. Unbelievable. He actually thought it had been kind of funny, but Linda was right; Robbie was way too young to be hearing something like that. He lifted the boy off his lap and tapped him on the back. "Go see your mom for a minute."

Robbie sighed. He knew what that meant. Grown-up stuff. But he did as he was told.

"Phew," Frank said, grinning. "That was a close one."

"Speaking of which," Gordon was saying, "I think it's time we bring Allison out. My sister's still on the waiting list for a consultation. I brought her out here to see the best plastic surgeon that money can buy. But he doesn't come cheap, and since she's not a big movie star, she's gotta wait, like everyone else." The audience booed, and the Rev smiled. "I know, I felt the same way. But it's the Golden Rule, and you know what that means. Them that has the gold, makes the rules." He gestured offstage. "Come on out, Allison. Maybe if you're on TV, they'll move you up the list."

Aurielle came onstage. The audience clapped and cheered, and she waved at them, feigning shyness. She knew the drill by now.

"Wow," Frank said. "That face has seen better days."

Jody elbowed him. "Don't be so rude," she chided. The poor woman had obviously had some kind of accident or something. Jody thought it was good of the Reverend to try to help his sister like that. Assuming that's where some of the money was going to go, of course.

"Wait a minute," Kevin said, approaching the TV now. "I've seen that woman before. I know I have. Where was that?" Then he remembered. "She's the woman who answered the door when I followed those university students to the hotel that time." He had eventually gotten around to telling all of them about that. They'd had way too much time just hanging around talking, waiting for something to break. Ethan had commented that he thought that was suspicious activity. Jody tended to agree, and she wondered now about "the Reverend" and his sister. Maybe she would call the office and have them do a background check on the siblings. Hey, it would be something to do, anyway.

Allison left the stage just as Cas approached the group. Had he seen her, he would have remembered her from the Secret Garden, of course. But the only person he saw on the screen now was Reverend Devlin. Cas wouldn't recognize him; Lucifer had a different face on now.

The Reverend was warning of plane crashes now. "In fact, I wouldn't go anywhere, if I were you," he told the audience. "Just send the money in to us, and we can work on getting Allison fixed up. Maybe she can get a boob job, too, while they're at it. See you later, folks. Gordon, out."

Then the end-of-show music came on, the audience clapped, and the show was over.

They all looked at each other, bemused. "Well, that was different," Frank said. He looked up at Cas, who was just standing there, staring blankly at the TV. The show hadn't even registered on Cas; he was remembering all of the times that he and Gail used to watch TV in bed at night. For the millionth time, he wondered where she was, and what she was doing. Did Lucifer have her? If so, why had he not contacted them? It was Castiel who he really wanted to hurt, wasn't it? Well, Cas would gladly trade himself for her safe return. Better still, he would love to ride in on the proverbial white horse and save her from Lucifer, bringing her back to the bunker in triumph. It was his fault that she wasn't here right now. He had shaken hands with the Devil, and now everyone else was paying the price.

Chuck got up from his chair to stretch his legs, walking around the table to where Sam sat, staring intently at his laptop.

"Anything?" he asked Sam quietly. "I think Cas is about to lose it again."

Sam sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Don't you think I'd have told you guys if I'd found anything?" he said irritably.

"OK, Sam, you don't have to jump down my throat," Chuck said. "We're all worried about her, you know. Just because you and Dean knew her first doesn't mean that we don't love her, too."

Sam turned in his chair, about to make a retort. But Chuck was looking off into the distance now, and then he did something strange. He smacked his forehead with his palm. Then he sat down in the chair next to Sam and leaned forward.

"I can't believe I forgot about this," he whispered to Sam.

"About what, Chuck? What are you talking about?" Sam asked him.

"Shh," Chuck said, gesturing. "Keep your voice down. I don't want Cas to hear. This may be nothing."

"OK, Chuck," Sam said softly, lowering his voice. "What are you thinking?"

"What I said about you and Dean made me think of it," Chuck said. He reminded Sam about the conversation he and Gail and Sam had had about the fan fiction stories that she had been reading to pass the time when she had been recuperating here at the bunker. "I know that was a long time ago now, but I told her to e-mail the author of the stories to try to find out who it was who had written them. As far as I can remember, she never said another word about it. But it's a bit of a loose end, isn't it? Maybe she got an answer back. Have you looked at her e-mail account?"

"I don't know her password," Sam told him. "I tried that, when she first went missing. I asked Cas and Frank about it, and neither one of them knew what it was, either. I tried to guess, but nothing I thought to put in worked."

"Did you try 'Castiel'?" Chuck said. He was only half-joking.

"Yeah, of course I did," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "And I tried 'Cas' too, in case you were wondering."

Chuck thought for a moment. "I guess that wouldn't be a very secure password, would it?" he said with a grim smile. "What else did you try?"

"I don't remember, Chuck," Sam replied, shrugging. "That was ages ago."

"So, what, you're just going to give up?" Chuck persisted.

Sam took a deep breath and counted to ten. He knew that Chuck was just trying to help, but the guy was getting on his nerves. Did Chuck think Sam didn't know what he was doing? He sat back in his chair, gesturing to the computer. "If you can think of something that we couldn't, be my guest," he said. He rose from his chair and walked down the hall. Dean and Ethan would probably be in the weapons room. This sitting around was driving them all nuts, and his brother and Ethan were likely in there working out or cleaning the weapons for the umpteenth time. Everyone had their own way of coping.

Chuck sat down at the computer, trying different password combinations. None of them worked, of course. He knew that Sam would have tried just about every combination there was. But Chuck needed something to do, too. He and Kevin hadn't been able to see a damn thing ever since Lucifer had broken free of his cage, and Chuck was feeling pretty useless at this point. He still had his journal, and he had been checking the pages every day to see if his writings would magically reappear, just as they had suddenly disappeared. Funny; he had been so honoured when Bobby had chosen him to be one of Heaven's representatives. They had even been given Biblical names, and everything. But when they'd gotten to Earth, everything had stalled, then Gail had been attacked, then they'd had the apocalyptic Demon fight, and then nothing. Nada.

Chuck's Bible name had been Pergamum, he remembered. He seemed to recall making some kind of lame joke about it at the time. They had all been talking about their assigned names, and he remembered being jealous of Cas's Biblical name. It had sounded much more regal than his, like a gladiator's, or something. Thyatira.

Wait a second. Sam might not have known about that. That had been between Bobby and the Angels. But Chuck would bet a zillion dollars that Gail would have remembered Cas's Biblical name. In fact, hadn't she giggled about it at the time, saying that it sounded like something out of an old-time MGM movie?

He bent to the keyboard and typed in "THYATIRA", and Gail's e-mail screen appeared.

"Cas!" Chuck called out excitedly. Cas hurried over to the table. "Did you find something, Chuck?" he said.

"I got into her e-mail," Chuck said, and Cas sat down next to him. The men peered at the screen. There were some old e-mails there that were archived, and one "new" one that had never been clicked on.

"'First Edition'?" Cas asked, puzzled. "What's that?"

Chuck looked at him. Apparently, Gail hadn't told him about the conversation she'd had with Chuck about e-mailing the author of the stories to try to find out who it was. Had she just not had the chance, or did she not want Cas to know, for some reason? But she had been missing for months now, and they'd better not keep any secrets from each other when it came to any potential clues as to her whereabouts.

So Chuck told Cas everything.

Cas was astounded. He didn't know how to feel about what Chuck was telling him. He supposed it hadn't seemed that important at the time; at least, not important enough for her to tell him about it. His feelings were a little hurt that she had talked to Sam and Chuck about it, instead of him.

Chuck sensed this. "I think she just called me because she thought I'd written them, Cas," he told his friend. "I assured her it wasn't me, and then Sam came in, and we joked about it for a bit. I don't think she thought it was a big enough deal to call you about at the time. She just thought it was kind of funny how the author had captured all of our characteristics so aptly. I think she was just bored, Cas. She was spending all her time just sitting around here when she was laid up with her injuries, remember?"

There had been a lot more to it than that, of course. But because none of them had any recollection of Cas having ever been anything other than what he was now, there were no ominous overtones to the fan fiction stories in Chuck's mind. No alarm bells were going off.

"I'm sorry, Cas. I guess this was a dead end," Chuck told him, making a face. "I was just so damn excited to have figured out the password to her e-mail. I thought for sure there would be some kind of a clue here."

Cas frowned. "I understand, Chuck. Just out of curiosity, what was it? The password?"

"'Thyatira'," Chuck replied.

A stab to Cas's heart. His own Biblical name. She had been thinking of him when she'd chosen her password.

Chuck had clicked on the e-mail from "First Edition", but it was innocuous. The author thanked her for her review, saying that he or she would respond to her comments shortly. They had hundreds of e-mails to go through, and they didn't have the time to read them all and give them the responses that they deserved. Keep reading the series, and the author would respond whenever they could.

Chuck was disappointed. He'd been so hoping that this would be a clue as to Gail's whereabouts. He looked apologetically at Cas. His friend had been so excited there, for a moment.

Cas rose slowly from his chair and clapped a hand on Chuck's shoulder, wordlessly. Then he popped out of the bunker.

A couple more weeks had passed, and nothing had changed but the weather. It was late spring now, and the days were warm and sunny. The humans had begun to go outside more, and the Angels spent half of their time in Heaven and the other half in the bunker. Bobby wanted their training kept up, so Dean and Sam, Frank and Jody held regular training sessions to keep the Angels' fighting skills sharp. But it was just busywork, really. It was hard to fight an enemy you couldn't locate. And the training sessions were pretty much all business. Gail's ghost seemed to cast a pall over the room. Any time any one of them laughed or made a joke, their eyes would drift over to where she should be sitting, telling them it was break time. Joking that she was way better at supervising than she was at fighting. Yelling at Chuck to pick up the pace, or she'd pair him with Cas again.

They hadn't included Cas in the training. Dean had invited him at the beginning, but even though Cas had observed the sessions a couple of times, he had made no move to join in. His eyes kept wandering to the spot where Gail should be sitting too, and after a few minutes, he had heaved a huge sigh and drifted out of the room.

The group was scattered today, and the bunker was quiet. Cas was sitting at the table, staring at the laptop. He had begun reading the fan fiction book series that Gail had been reading before she disappeared. It was something to do, and it was a connection to her, albeit a tenuous one. She had been right; it was amazing how the author had captured their personalities so accurately. A few facts differed here and there, and the prose was a bit rough in spots, especially at the beginning. But to all intents and purposes, this was their story. It was dramatic and suspenseful, but at its heart, it was a love story. At least, it was to Cas, and he was sure it would have been to Gail, too.

So he had read the first two books in fairly short order, and now Cas was reading the third. These stories were bringing back so many memories for him, but they were causing him so much pain, too. Yet he persisted. It was almost like a penance for him. If he could get through the whole series without dying of heartbreak, maybe there would be a clue in one of them. Maybe his Father would finally have mercy on them and return her to him. Maybe fish would fly, and birds would swim.

He had just bought his new clothes in the story, his Earthly clothes, and Gail had seen him in them for the first time. Blue jeans, grey shirt, and a charcoal blazer. He had an outfit just like that in his little-used room here at the bunker. Unbelievable. Cas remembered how Gail's eyes had lit up when she'd seen him in Earthly clothes for the first time. He'd bought them to look good for her, but he'd liked the way they looked on him, too. And now, that was all he wore, though his old trenchcoat was still hanging here in the bunker. He had been about to throw it away, but Dean had stopped him, telling him they had to save it, "for posterity". Dean had wanted him to hang it in the bunker, for some reason. So Cas had done it. But he'd thought it was funny. Who would have imagined that Dean would be so sentimental about an article of clothing?

The author had Cas and Gail going to Las Vegas with Sam and Dean. Cas smiled faintly at that. He and Gail loved the brothers, but they would never have brought them along on a romantic holiday. In fact, they hadn't. But he stopped smiling immediately. If Sam and Dean had accompanied them seven months ago, would Gail still be here? No, that was ridiculous. But they should have been here the night that Lucifer had come. That was the only night that mattered. If only the author of these stories could rewrite that, somehow.

Now he and Gail were coming back from their dinner date, and Cas knew what was going to happen next, of course. Unless the author went a different way with the story, as he or she had done with the first fictional night. They'd had Cas getting drunk with the brothers, and he and Gail sleeping in separate rooms, which was absurd. As if Cas would take Gail on a romantic holiday and then just ditch her like that. In this story, she had insisted that he go, but still, he never would have. If anything, he would have tried to persuade her to come out with them, and if she had balked at that, he would have stayed behind, with her. And he would certainly not have gotten drunk. He would have kissed her about a million times, and then made love to her for as long as she'd wanted him to. They would have had that extra night together. His stomach hurt again. Actually, it hurt all the time now.

He closed the laptop with a bang. He couldn't bear to read any more. Cas didn't bother to log out, though. He knew he'd be back to read more, shortly. If he didn't finish the series, she wouldn't come back to him.

Cas winked out of the bunker and went back to their old apartment building. He came here sometimes, when the bunker was bustling full of their friends and he needed a quiet place to be alone. He had given up their apartment now, but Cas still came back here sometimes to reminisce, and he also came once in a while just on the off chance that she might regain her memory and come here, also. He had given his cell phone number to the superintendent, and to the people who lived there now, asking them to please call immediately if she ever showed up. He'd shown them the photo that Dean had taken of her in the bunker that one day, when she hadn't been looking. She didn't like how she looked in photos, and she wouldn't pose for anyone. So Dean had snuck that one picture of her as a joke, and thank God that he had. It was the only likeness Cas had of her now. Cas had had it on his cell phone all this time, and he would sometimes come here to the old building and sit on the bench in the park across the street. Her bench. He would look at the photo for a while, and then he would sit the phone next to him on the bench but leave the screen on so that he could continue to look at her. Then he would look off into the distance. Then he would look back at his phone. The screen went dark every so often, and he would touch it again to make her picture come back up. Good, he thought. She was still there.

He stared at her for a long time today, touching her face with his fingers. Now his chest hurt, too. Could you literally die from heartbreak?

Cas turned the phone off and put it back in his pocket. He hadn't done it for a while, but he felt like he needed to do it now. He sank to his knees off the bench and prayed.

"Please return her to me, Father. I'll do anything you ask. Please. I can't bear it any more. I know I'm being punished for having shaken Lucifer's hand. I never should have done that. But please don't hold that against Gail. She was the one who told me not to do it, and I went ahead and did it, anyway. But You know that I didn't take the deal out of selfishness, not this time. I took it because I couldn't stand to see her in such pain any more. No, let me rephrase that. Because she was in pain, and she would have been hurting like that for a long time. So, it wasn't about me this time. It was all about her."

But it was a hollow prayer, really, so it had a hollow ring to it. Gail had been the one in such severe pain, but Cas was sure she never would have shaken hands with Lucifer, regardless. She would have just borne the pain, rather than submit to the Devil.

He received no answer, of course. He never did. Cas pulled out his phone and looked at Gail's picture again. Then he got up off his knees. Sam and Dean had informed him that it was Frank's birthday today, and Cas wanted to be there to give Frank his best wishes. He knew what he'd like to give Frank for his birthday. He sighed heavily and winked himself back to the bunker.

Sarah was talking to a couple of women who were sitting in the front row of the studio audience.

She had handed out the pamphlets to the people in that row, and then one of the women had motioned her over.

"Yes?" Sarah said politely, walking over to her.

"Can I ask you a question?" the woman said.

"Of course," Sarah replied.

"What's this all for?" the woman said, gesturing around the studio.

Sarah's brow wrinkled. "What? What's all WHAT for?"

"This," the woman said simply, looking into Sarah's eyes. "This so-called 'Ministry'. What's the point of it all?"

Sarah misunderstood. "That's why we're here, isn't it? To try to avoid Armageddon, or at least to try to survive it, as best we can."

The woman was frowning. "No, I meant what's the point of what this Gordon guy is saying? All he does is report things in the news, and then claim that they're signs of Armageddon, then tell people to send in money. Then he makes a couple of crude comments, and then the show is over. So, what's the point?"

Hearing that disturbed Sarah. In a way, this woman was absolutely right. But Sarah believed in what she was doing. She'd better, or she was wasting her life here. Reverend Gordon was very unorthodox, it was true. But he had to be, to grab and hold peoples' attention. They were trying to help the people, but first, they had to reach the people.

She told the woman this now, and the woman's companion said, "I told you so. I want to survive Armageddon, and I want you to, too. That's why I brought you here, honey." She leaned over and kissed her companion on the cheek. Sarah's questioner sighed, then turned to her girlfriend and kissed her on the mouth. Her companion's tongue poked out, tracing her girlfriend's lips. Then she stopped, and she looked at Sarah.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I hope that didn't embarrass you or offend you."

Sarah shrugged. "Neither. We're an open Ministry, here. Reverend Gordon believes in love of every kind," she told them. "I'd better go, though. The show's about to start."

She turned away from the women, and her lips twitched. They definitely didn't have to worry about expressing their affection for each other here. If those women only knew the kinds of things the Rev said off camera, they wouldn't even have given it a second thought. They could be sitting there in the front row while the show was going on, making out, with their hands up each other's skirts, and Gordon wouldn't miss a beat. Actually, he would probably encourage them to go even further. The Reverend loved sex, and he loved love. Well, he loved to talk about it, anyway. At last report, he still hadn't actually had it.

Sarah had been just about to leave the theatre area and take her usual place backstage when a man called to her from the outer aisle.

"Miss! Miss? Could you help us, please?" He was gesturing to her.

Sarah walked up the aisle. "Sure. What do you need?" She smiled. "And it's Sarah, by the way."

He returned her smile. "It's my wife. She's got MS, and she's having a bad day."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sarah said to him. "But you know that Reverend Gordon's not a faith healer, right?"

The man was shaking his head. "No, we know that. I was just trying to tell you that she had to come here in her wheelchair today, but she can't see the stage from the back. I was hoping you could find a spot for her up front somewhere."

Sarah glanced back towards the stage. "Sure," she said. "Where is she?"

By the time Sarah wheeled the woman down the aisle and helped her find a good vantage point, the show was starting. The house lights went down and the spotlights shone in the direction of the stage. Sarah looked up, panicked. Crap. Hopefully the camera hadn't gotten a shot of her. She hated even seeing her face in casual snapshots, let alone having to see it on HDTV. Yuk. But Gordon had respected her request not to be on camera, even though he'd hinted at it a few times. No, thanks.

She hurried backstage. Gordon caught her by the arms just as he was about to go onstage. "What's the matter?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she told him. Sarah didn't want to mention what she'd been thinking about, in case he dragged her on stage with him. Gordon was like that; sometimes, he just liked to do the opposite.

He looked at her for a moment. Then he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. He'd been doing a lot more of that kind of thing recently. Sarah wondered if he was trying to build up the nerve to ask her out or ask her for more physical contact. And how would she feel about that? She honestly didn't know. On the one hand, he was her boss, and he was a bit of a weird guy, sometimes. Contradictory, in many ways. He was a Reverend who had dedicated his life to preaching the word, as he saw it, in order to help people. Yet he was also crude, and he said anything that popped into his mind, with no apparent filter. He seemed obsessed with sex in all its forms, and he made inappropriate moves on all of the girls in the office. He'd never tried that with Sarah, thank God, or she would have told him to put it back in his pants or she would quit. But he had asked her to dance at the office Christmas party, and he had kissed her at the end of the dance. It was a fairly chaste kiss, and she had let him do it, but she had regretted it the next day. She had just had a bit too much to drink at the party, and so had he. But nothing had come of it afterwards, except that he had made a joke the next morning that he should have slipped her the tongue. But Sarah had rolled her eyes and left his office, and ever since then, he had restrained himself from any further physical contact, at least for a while. But lately he had started up again, seeming to find excuses to be close to her, and occasionally kissing her, or taking her hand. She knew that they would have to talk about this, and soon. But what would they say?

"Wait here," Gordon told her. "We'll have a drink after the show."

Sarah nodded, and he went on stage.

Dean passed through the library area, on his way to the couch. The bunker was blessedly empty for a change, and he was going to enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasted.

Cas was sitting at the table, staring off into space, but he might as well not have even been there, for all the conversation that Dean was getting out of him these days. Dean didn't even bother speaking to him on his way by. If Cas needed to talk, he knew where Dean was. But Dean had given up trying. Cas was either crying, pacing the floor, or just hanging around not talking whenever he was here, anyway. Then he would disappear for hours, even days, and then he would come back again and the cycle would repeat itself. But there was no talking to him. Last week, Chuck had tried to suggest that Cas should go up to Heaven and take over chairing the board for Gail in her absence, and Cas had nearly taken Chuck's head clean off. Sam and Dean had had to restrain him before things got ugly. Cas had yelled that Chuck had given up on Gail, and Chuck had yelled back that that wasn't true, he'd just wanted to see Cas do something productive with himself. He was driving them all nuts. Cas had reached for his inside jacket pocket as if he was going for his blade, and that was when the brothers had grabbed him. When things had calmed down, Cas had quietly admitted to Dean that he had been about to go for his blade, too. But what on earth he would have done with it if he'd been able to grab it, Cas was sure he didn't know. He would never have raised it against Chuck. But that had always been his go-to response in the past when he'd gotten angry. Gail had even teased him about it once or twice. She would have done so if she'd seen him just now, or she would have given him a disapproving look, at the very least. Cas had haltingly apologized to Chuck, and Chuck had shrugged it off, but Dean couldn't recall the two Angels having exchanged even one word with each other since that day. Maybe it was cabin fever, but they'd all been getting on each other's nerves lately. Who was Dean kidding? It was Gail. She wasn't here, but she was making them all nuts. She was kind of like the glue that held all of them together, and her absence was like a hollow ache in Dean's heart.

He walked over to the couch and grabbed the remote. Maybe he could find a classic movie on TV to fall asleep to. A nap seemed like a damn good idea right about now. Jody had taken Frank out for a birthday lunch, and Robbie had gone with them. The kid would be all sugared up when he got back, and the decibel level would rise accordingly. The Angels had gone back up to Heaven for the time being, and Sam had left the bunker too, saying that he wanted to go for a drive and think.

Dean turned on the TV and checked the contents of the PVR. Sometimes Sam would record movies that he knew he and Dean would like. There wasn't much on there anymore; they had had a lot of time to watch TV in the last few months. Dean had been playing with the idea of going back out on the road, just for something to do. Maybe just local cases, so they could stay close to home in case something broke. But he didn't know how they were going to tell Cas. He would probably freak out again, accusing Dean of having given up on Gail, too. And Dean felt scared at the prospect of having that conversation, because a large part of him actually had.

Frank had that stupid Reverend's show on there. It was on in the late morning, and Frank and Jody and Robbie had already gone by then. Dean rolled his eyes. Frank thought the guy was hilarious. He watched him every day now, and if Frank didn't happen to be here when the show was on, he would record it, to watch later. Dean hadn't actually seen the show, but he thought it was kind of weird that Frank was so into it. Dean liked Gail's brother, but he was even quirkier than Cas was sometimes, and that was saying a lot.

Still, it was Frank's birthday, so Dean guessed he could cut the guy a break. It would be sad for him to have to spend it without his sister. Gail didn't eat or drink, of course, but Dean could picture her with a big slab of cake in front of her anyway, teasing Frank about how old and curmudgeonly he was getting. Putting a silly party hat on Frank's head and trying to put one on Bobby. They would smile at her indulgently. Then Gail would try to put one on Dean, and he would threaten to break her arm if she even thought about it. She would laugh, and lean down to kiss Dean on the forehead, assuring him that she was terrified of him, and then put the stupid thing on him anyway. Cas would make some crack about that being the best fashion accessory he had ever seen on Dean, and Gail would laugh again and kiss Cas, sitting next to him and taking his hand. Or maybe she would try to claim that there weren't enough chairs to go around and sit in Cas's lap. He would wrap his arms around Gail's waist and they would all sing Happy Birthday to Frank as he blew out the candles. Then, once all the Angels left and Robbie was in bed, Dean would break out the booze and they would sit around the table. Him, Sam, Frank, Jody, Cas and Gail. Dean would pour shots all around, and even Cas and Gail would have a couple, to drink a toast to Frank on his special day. They would have a few laughs and tell a few stories. Then maybe they would move to the TV area and watch a movie they could all agree on. Sam would make popcorn, and Gail would be flipping pieces of popcorn at her brother when he wasn't looking, instituting a points system for how many she could land on him before he noticed. Sam and Dean would smirk at each other and then they would join in, and Jody and Cas would roll their eyes at their childishness. But Cas would never admonish Gail, of course. Dean would give him crap about that, and Gail would shrug and say that was because she was special. Cas would agree that she was, indeed, and he would kiss her on the nose as she flipped a piece of popcorn at Dean and stuck her tongue out at him. Good times.

Dean's eyes were blurred now, and he wiped them with the backs of his hands, looking nervously over at Cas. But Cas was oblivious. He was looking down at the closed laptop, tapping the computer lightly with his hand as if trying to decide whether or not to open it.

Dean looked back at the TV and shrugged. Maybe he would take a quick look at the show, just to see what Frank saw in it, if possible. So he pressed Play. A commercial or two, then the pre-show music started. The cameras were focused on a stage and the spotlights came on, going back and forth in front of the stage like the beginning of a rock concert, or something. A blonde girl who was standing by the stage caught Dean's eye. She was looking at the camera, wide-eyed. Then she turned around and hurried out of camera range.

Dean swung his legs around, preparing to lay down for his nap. This show would be as good as anything to fall asleep to. He'd try to stay awake to watch for a few minutes, just to see if the guy was as entertaining as Frank seemed to think he was, and then whatever happened, happened. If Dean could stay awake for the full half hour, it would be a miracle. That blonde had been kind of funny, though, right off the bat. She'd looked so terrified to be caught on camera. Sort of like Gail looked when anybody even threatened to take her picture.

He sat bolt upright. No, that was nuts. The girl had kind of reminded him of Gail, but that was just because he had been thinking of her, right? But her face had looked like Gail's, too, hadn't it? This was stupid. But he had to have another look, just for the hell of it.

So Dean rewound, and he watched it again, then again. You could only see the girl for a moment, but she did kind of look like Gail. But she was blonde, and her eyes were too light. But she really did look like Gail. Same height, same physical characteristics. Dean played it twice more, and then he started debating with himself. It could be her. Women dyed their hair all the time, and there were contact lenses you could buy that altered eye colour. No, it couldn't be Gail. Dean just wanted her back so badly that his mind was playing tricks on him. He played it again.

"Cas," Dean said. He'd frozen the screen at the point where the girl was looking straight into the camera. Silence. "Cas!" Dean said again, raising his voice. "Come over here. I want you to look at something."

Nothing. No response. Dean turned his head to look at his friend. Cas was still just sitting there, looking down at the computer.

"Cas!" he yelled. "Get your ass over here!"

That broke Cas out of his stupor, and he swiveled his head to look at Dean. "Yes, Dean?" he said tonelessly.

"Get over here," Dean said again. "Look at this." He pointed to the TV.

Cas rose, and came over to where Dean sat. He was looking at Dean, not the TV. "What do you want, Dean?" he said. He sat down next to his friend, looking at him curiously.

Dean let out a frustrated breath and grabbed Cas's face, turning it towards the TV. "There," he said to him. "Look at her. What do you think?"

Cas's eyes widened immediately. He leapt off the couch and moved closer to the TV, kneeling in front of it. He put his hand on the screen, touching the girl's image. "Gail," he said. "It's her, Dean."

He turned to Dean, and his face broke into a grin. "It's her!" He looked back at the TV. He leaned forward and kissed the screen. Then he jumped to his feet and rushed back to where Dean was sitting. "It's her!" he shouted. He hauled Dean to his feet and enveloped him in a bear hug. "Thank you, Dean," he said in a muffled voice, and Dean realized that Cas was crying now. "Thank you."

Dean let Cas hug him for a minute, and then he grabbed his friend's arms, gently disengaging himself from the embrace. "Cas..." he started to say. Crap. He had done it now. What if it wasn't her? Cas would kill him.

Cas was wiping his eyes with his hands, and he was smiling now. "Where is she, Dean?" he said. "Tell me where, and we'll wink over there right away!" Then he started to laugh and to cry at the same time.

"Slow down, Cas," Dean said, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. "I don't even know if it's her. I just thought, the resemblance - "

Cas interrupted him. "It's her, Dean. Of course it's her." He looked fondly at the TV screen. "It's her," he said again. He closed his eyes for a moment. "Thank You, Father." He turned back to Dean. "Where is she, Dean? Why is she on TV?"

Dean explained what had happened, and Cas smiled again. "I must buy Frank a really good birthday present, for having the presence of mind to tape this show." Then he laughed. "What am I saying? He'll have the best birthday present of all, in a minute! Come on, Dean! Let's go!"

Dean frowned. He had to unwind Cas somehow. "Cas, I'm not even sure if it's her at all. That girl's blonde, and she's got green eyes."

"I don't care," Cas insisted. "It's her. I know it is. Of course it is."

"Cas, maybe we just think it might be her because we want it to be her," Dean argued. But he spoke gently, and he still had his hand on Cas's shoulder.

"No," Cas said sharply. "You'll see. Let's go," he said again. "We're wasting time now."

Dean sighed. "Okay, Cas. You and I will go. But we won't say anything to anybody. Not until we can make sure." He moved around Cas and strode to the library table. He flipped open the laptop and sat down. There was already something on the screen, but Dean cleared it and started to type. "I'm gonna look up that show. Let's find out where they tape it, and the schedule."

Cas stared at the TV screen for another minute, then he walked over to Dean and looked over his friend's shoulder. Dean grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the studio's address.

"Let's go, Dean," Cas said impatiently.

Dean finished his research and closed the laptop. He got up from the chair and put both of his hands on Cas's shoulders this time. "It's a live show, Cas. We'll go tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!" Cas exclaimed.

"Yeah, Cas. Tomorrow. She obviously works on the show, so she'll be there tomorrow. We can't just go rushing over there now. There won't be anybody there. And you can't freak out, Cas. This might not even be her. And even if it is her, she obviously still doesn't know who she is, or she would have come back by now. You remember what she was like at the airport that morning? If you rush up to her and grab her, she'll flip out. And if it isn't her, she'll have you arrested. We've gotta be careful here, Cas. We'll go look at her and see if we can talk to her. But you've gotta calm down. If you freak out, you'll lose the opportunity to find out for sure."

Cas knew that Dean was right, but he was so excited that he was having trouble keeping it together. How could he possibly wait another day?

"We're having Frank's birthday party tonight, and everybody will be here. That'll keep us occupied until tomorrow," Dean told his friend. "Then you can wink us over in the morning, and we'll see for ourselves. But don't say anything to anybody in the meantime, especially not Frank. Not until we're sure. OK?"

Cas swallowed. "OK, Dean. OK." He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

"Attaboy, Cas." Dean patted his friend's face. "Have a beer or something." He went back to the living room area and grabbed the remote. "In the meantime, I'd better get rid of this. We don't want Frank seeing it."

"No!" Cas yelled, horrified. He rushed up to stand by the TV. How could Dean even think of just obliterating her image like that?

"Heads up! Birthday boy walking!" Jody called out from down the hallway.

Dean looked at Cas, making a gesture with the remote. Cas looked at the screen again, then he kissed his hand and touched her image with it. He turned his back as Dean deleted the show from the PVR and then turned off the TV.

"Who wants cake?" Jody said, carrying a large box into the library area and plunking it on the table. Dean gave Cas one more look, and then he smiled. "I do," Dean said.

Cas glanced at the dark TV and sighed. He guessed it didn't matter. Just one more endless night, and then he would be with her. And then he was never going to let go of her, ever again.

Everyone was at the bunker for Frank's birthday party. The Angels had come down from Heaven, and Bobby had given everyone who'd wanted it the gift of an appetite, so they could help Frank celebrate. The mood was bittersweet, and Bobby tried his best to keep everybody's spirits up. He had given each Angel a present to give to Frank, and he had even given Frank a gift himself. They were overcompensating, trying to force the frivolity. Bobby saw Frank stealing glances at the empty chair that was Gail's usual seat at the library table. No one dared to sit in it; the first few times anyone had sat there, even if it was by accident, Cas had glared at them until they'd felt compelled to move.

Strangely, Cas seemed almost in good spirits tonight, though, Bobby thought. He must be overcompensating, too. Any time anyone had expressed a desire for another drink, or something to eat, Cas had jumped up from the table and gotten it for them. He seemed full of nervous energy, for some reason. He had insisted on being the one to hand Frank all of his presents to open, and once they had all been opened, he'd told Frank that he still owed him a present. It would be here very soon, Cas had said. He just hadn't had the chance to obtain it yet. He'd been smiling, looking almost happy when he had said that. Bobby saw Dean give Cas a look, and Cas had closed his mouth and moved away from Frank then. But he had still been smiling.

When it got to be a little bit later, the Angels said goodnight and accompanied Bobby back to Heaven. Felicia put Robbie to bed, and the humans were sitting around having a few drinks. Except for Gail's continued absence, the scene was eerily reminiscent of Dean's fantasy of earlier. But the mood was a lot more subdued. Frank stayed up for a while, but Dean could tell his heart really wasn't in it, and everyone went to bed early.

Dean woke at dawn, and Cas was sitting at his bedside. He stood as soon as he saw Dean stir.

"Cas, you nearly gave me a heart attack," Dean chided him. But he spoke softly. No sense waking anyone else up.

Dean knew that Cas wasn't going to be able to wait any longer, so he dressed quickly, and then Cas winked them to Los Angeles.

Getting there that early turned out to be beneficial, in a way. The Rev's show was the flavour of the month right now, and people lined up early to get good seats. Cas and Dean were the first ones there, so they were guaranteed to get seats in the front row.

They waited a few hours, and then the doors opened up and they were able to get in. There was still about an hour until the show was due to start. Cas looked excitedly around the room. Dean cautioned him again to stay calm.

"Hi, Sarah," a woman to their left said, and Cas looked in that direction. Gail was standing there, shaking the woman's hand. Dean heard Cas gasp, and he put his hand on his friend's arm, cautioning him, "Stay cool."

Sarah chatted with the woman for a second, and then she moved her way along the front row until she got to where Cas and Dean sat. She froze. Cas! He was staring at her, and he was sitting beside another handsome guy, who had his hand on Cas's arm.

Crap. What should she do here? She couldn't pretend she hadn't seen him; they were looking straight at each other. What was he doing here?

What the hell. There were tons of people around, and it looked like he was here with a friend. She didn't think she'd ever told him where she worked. And, quite honestly, if he was a stalker, he was the world's least motivated one; it had been nearly eight months now since they'd had their weekend together, as near as she could recall. It must just be an amazing coincidence.

"Hi," she said. He jumped to his feet, and she couldn't help but smile. He'd done that in Las Vegas, too. She'd thought it was such an old-fashioned and charming thing to do, at the time.

"Hi," he replied. The man with him stood, too. He was also staring at her. Sarah started to feel self-conscious. Had Cas told this guy about their weekend? She noticed again how good-looking the second man was, almost as handsome as Cas was. Where did these guys come from? And when could she go there?

"I'm Sarah," she said to Cas's friend.

"Dean," he said, and he extended his hand to her.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Dean," Sarah said to him. "Thanks for coming here today. We appreciate the support." She shook his hand, then gave him a pamphlet.

Then she turned to Cas. She'd decided to play it cool. "And you are - ?"

He looked at her hand. He wanted to take it in both of his, so badly. Then he looked into her eyes. They were so strange-looking. A light green colour, paler than Dean's. And her hair was blonde. But he didn't care. It was her face, and it was her smile. "Cas," he told her. "How do you do, Sarah?"

She was confused now. He had just introduced himself to her, as if they had never met before. Maybe he didn't want his friend to know about their hook-up, for some reason. Maybe he was embarrassed by it. Or, worse, maybe he didn't even remember. How embarrassing that would be, if it were true. But the way he had acted in Las Vegas, she found it hard to believe that would be the case. "I'm good, Cas, thanks," she stammered. "Did you and Dean just come for the show?"

"We're in town on business," Dean said. "And, yeah, we wanted to check out the show. We've heard a lot about the Reverend."

Sarah smiled at him. "He's getting to be pretty famous. Which is a good thing, because we believe in the message."

"Which is, what?" Dean asked her.

"That Armageddon is coming," Sarah told him. "He wants to let people know what to expect, so that they can try to survive."

"How does he know about Armageddon?" Cas asked sharply.

She looked at him. "He's a man of the cloth, Cas," Sarah said calmly.

Dean coughed a rude word into his hand. "Sorry, I must be getting a cold," he said, smirking. A man of the cloth, his ass. Did she even watch the show, or just work behind the scenes? If "the Rev" was a man of the cloth, then Dean was the Pope.

Cas smiled gently. "Of course. My apologies," he said softly. She had given him a strange look when he had asked her about Armageddon, but it had probably been more due to his tone than to anything else. He couldn't help it, though. It was so surreal, talking to Gail like this. She was treating him like a stranger, acting like she didn't know him or Dean at all. He supposed she wasn't really acting, though. Lucifer must have wiped her mind clean and given her this new identity. Which led him to wonder about "the Rev", now. Perhaps he had been led here, not only to get Gail back, but to unmask a false prophet.

But until the show started, Cas just wanted to spend a bit more time with Gail, after agonizing over her absence for so long. So he smiled at her again. "Do you have a minute to sit down with us?" he asked her. "I'd really like to ask you some questions." He extended his hand to her as he usually did, and Sarah took it automatically. His smile widened, and he gave her hand a brief squeeze.

Now, why had she gone and done that? She just hadn't been able to resist, for some reason. And now she was moving a little closer to him. He was still gorgeous, and he still had those killer blue eyes. He seemed perfectly normal now, and he was here with a friend, who struck her as being a nice, normal guy.

"I guess I could sit for a minute," Sarah said. There was an empty seat right next to Cas. He looked at it, wishing he could pull it out for her, but this was an auditorium, so the seats were all attached. Cas waited until she was seated to sit down, though, as was his custom. Sarah smiled again.

"What would you like to know?" Sarah asked them.

Cas had absolutely no idea what to say to her now. He'd just wanted her to stay. She had let go of his hand to sit down, but she was sitting so close to him that it was hard to concentrate.

"What are we supposed to do about Armageddon?" Dean said, coming to Cas's rescue.

More people were filing into the theatre now, and the noise level was getting louder. Sarah leaned across Cas to answer Dean's question, and it took all the self-control Cas had not to just put his arms around her and kiss her. This was definitely Gail. He had kissed that face enough times to know. He knew every curve and angle of her face by now.

But, what was he going to do about her? She clearly thought she was someone else, and she didn't even seem to remember him from their Las Vegas weekend now. Dean was right; Cas couldn't just grab her and start kissing her. She would probably slap him in the face.

"There's nothing we CAN do about it," she was saying to Dean. "All we can do is try to ride it out, as best we can. Then, when it's over, those that are left alive can start to rebuild."

"Has the Reverend said anything about a specific number, or type, of people who will be left to rebuild?" Dean asked her. Partly it was just to keep her talking, while he tried to make up his mind, but a small part of him was looking to find out if that virgin thing was really true.

"Yes, of course. The number will be 144,000. Like it says in Revelation," Sarah told him. "And Gordon says it'll be the people who want it the most. They're who will survive. That's why he preaches living life to the fullest."

"I'm all for that," Dean said, grinning.

"Good for you, Dean," Sarah remarked, answering his smile. She liked Dean. He put out a good vibe. Then she looked up, as the lights in the auditorium began to dim. "Oh, crap. Guys, I've got to go," she said. "That signal means five minutes till showtime."

"Wait," Cas said into her ear before she had the chance to rise from her seat. He couldn't let her just walk away from him again. Sarah felt his breath in her ear, and his lips had grazed her there. Suddenly, she was back in Las Vegas. His lips had been all over her, then. She turned her head to look at him.

"I have to go, Cas," she said softly.

"I don't want you to go," he said to her.

Now she didn't want to go, either. She wanted him to kiss her. This was crazy. She had run away from him in Las Vegas. And now he had shown up here out of the blue after all this time, and all she could think of was inviting him back to her place.

"I have to go, Cas," she repeated. The music was starting to play now. Gordon would probably be pissed off if she wasn't in her usual spot before he took the stage. He always looked for her before he went on. But, maybe when she told him who she'd been sitting with, he would understand. Then again, maybe she'd better not take the chance. Now that she'd thought about it, Gordon might just be jealous of Cas. If Gordon felt about her the way she was starting to suspect he felt about her, she'd better not point Cas out to him.

But she couldn't stop looking at Cas's beautiful blue eyes. He was looking at her with such warmth, the same way he'd looked at her in Las Vegas when they had been having dinner, and walking down the Strip, and then later, when they'd been in bed together. Like he loved her.

"Can I see you after the show?" he asked her.

She wanted to; she really did. But maybe she'd better not. "I have to work tonight," she blurted out. "But if you're here tomorrow, we'll see." Then she jumped up from her chair and ran backstage, disappearing from Cas's view.

Cas and Dean stood outside the theatre once the show was over.

"Wasn't that one hell of a show?" Dean asked Cas, bemused. He still couldn't believe it. The Reverend was a real nutbag. But the audience really seemed to like him, and Dean would have laughed the whole thing off as a big joke if he hadn't heard people saying "Amen" and "Praise be" in the audience throughout the show. The whole thing smacked of cultism to him, and he thought the Rev was the worst kind of charlatan. Just another slimy guy looking to profit from people's religious mania, and paranoia about the end of the world.

Cas was shaking. He couldn't believe it, either. That so-called "Reverend" was the worst sort of false prophet he could imagine. He was bombastic, he was profane, and there didn't seem to be any kind of point to his rambling diatribe. He'd merely advised the audience that Armageddon was at hand, and they should send as much money as possible in to the "Devlin Ministry" because they wouldn't need it soon, anyway. Unbelievable. And Gail was working for a man like that? But Cas had to remember that she was not herself at the moment. Lucifer had corrupted her mind and sent her to work for that man, probably thinking that it would be amusing. Lucifer had obviously taken Gail away from Castiel just to make him suffer. And he had suffered; he had suffered plenty. But he had found her now, and even though she still didn't know who she was, or who they were together, she had nonetheless given him a crumb of encouragement. She'd said that "if" he came back tomorrow, she would talk to him again. He smiled. "If", indeed. He was never leaving here again, not until he would be able to bring her back home with him.

"I'll take you back to the bunker, and then I'll come back here," Cas told Dean. Then he smiled. "You might want to tell Bobby that I'll be here for a while. I'm going to stay calm, Dean. But I'm not coming back without her."

But Dean was shaking his head. Why was he doing that?

"It's not her, Cas," Dean said.

Cas was stunned. "What do you mean, it's not her?" he said. "Of course it's her!"

"I don't think it is, Cas," Dean insisted.

Cas was angry now. "Why are you saying that, Dean?" he shouted. "You're supposed to be our friend!"

"That's WHY I'm saying it, Cas. I think you want it to be her so badly that you're imagining things," Dean said quietly.

Cas wound up and punched Dean in the face, and Dean staggered back from the blow. He kept his feet, though, and he wiped his bleeding mouth with the back of his hand. He looked at Cas calmly. "Go ahead and hit me again, if you need to," Dean told him.

Cas nearly did, but then he took a deep breath instead. "I'll take you back to the bunker now," he said coolly.

Cas paced the floor at the bunker for a while and then he went out to the garage, where Frank was working on his car. Dean was sitting in the library area, holding an ice pack to his face with one hand and a drink in the other and brooding. Sam had asked him where he and Cas had been, and why his lip was bleeding, but Dean wouldn't tell him. Then Sam had asked Cas, and Cas had given him the standard Angel double-speak.

Frank looked up as Cas approached him. "Hey. Where were you and Dean this morning?" Frank asked, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Why does everyone assume that Dean and I always go everywhere together?" Cas said in a light tone.

Frank did a double-take. Cas sounded almost...happy. "Why do you Angels always answer a question with another question?" Frank said dryly.

"I found her, Frank," Cas blurted out.

Frank dropped the rag on the floor and rushed over to where Cas stood. "What? Where?" he said anxiously.

"She's in Los Angeles, working on a TV show," Cas replied.

Frank studied his face. If this had been a conversation on any other subject, Frank would swear that Cas was making one of his lame-ass jokes. But there was no way that Cas would ever joke about Gail's disappearance. So he had to be sincere.

Frank clapped Cas on the shoulder. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go get her!"

But Cas was frowning. "She doesn't know who she is, Frank. She thinks that her name is Sarah. And she's got blonde hair, and green eyes."

Frank stared at him. Had Cas finally lost his mind over this? "Well, how can it be her, then?"

"It's not," Dean said. He had just entered the garage. He should have figured as much. Cas was digging his heels in now, and now he was bringing in the big guns. But Dean was pissed off at his friend. Just because Cas refused to accept reality didn't mean he should get Gail's brother's hopes up like this.

Cas wheeled on Dean, and Dean almost took a step back. Was Cas going to hit him again? But Cas merely said, "You're wrong, Dean."

Frank's brow was furrowed. "I'm confused now. Is it her, or isn't it?"

Cas turned back to him. "It's her, Frank. I know it's her. Dean can say what he wants, but I'm the one who knows her the best. I don't care what colour her hair is, or what colour her eyes are at the moment. I know every curve and angle of her face. I know her smile. I know how she looks when she's surprised, and she was surprised to see me this morning. But she was happy to see me, too, Frank. She told me to come back and see her tomorrow."

"That's not actually what she said, Cas," Dean corrected him. "She said that IF you were there tomorrow, she MIGHT see you. And she didn't even acknowledge that she'd ever met you before."

"It doesn't matter, Dean," Cas said. He was becoming frustrated now. She did know me, and she was happy to see me." He turned back to Frank. "Come with me, Frank. You're her brother. You'll recognize her, I'm sure."

Frank frowned at Dean. He didn't know why Dean was so convinced it wasn't her, if Cas was. Maybe Cas wanted this girl to be her so badly that he was delusional. But if there was even a chance that she was Gail, Frank had to go and see for himself. "Sure, Cas. Of course I'll go with you," he said.

Dean threw up his hands in frustration. Now Cas was going to get Frank all wound up, too. "Fine," he said. He turned and left the garage.

"Another friend?" Sarah said, when Cas introduced her to Frank. "And this guy's another tall one. Where do you guys come from? The Land of the Giants?"

Frank took the hand she offered him, and he scrutinized her face. Man, this was weird. It was bad enough being introduced to a woman who was possibly your own sister like she had never met you before. But this one had blonde hair, and weird, light-coloured eyes. She'd quipped like Gail would, though, and she was a short little thing, too, just like his little sister. But he couldn't say definitively, one way or the other. She was spouting off about the Rev like he was the second coming, and that didn't feel like his sister to him. She should be able to tell that the guy was a fraud, and a joke. So Frank was squarely on the fence.

Sarah wondered about this guy Frank. Cas had introduced him as another co-worker. He wasn't as good-looking as Cas or even Dean, but he had a pleasant enough face, and an easy smile. She chatted with the men for a few minutes before the show. Gordon had been a little annoyed with her yesterday for her late appearance backstage, and she'd told him that she was working on some new converts to mollify him. But now, she was wondering if there might be some truth to that. Was Cas bringing these men here to help spread the word? Or was it just an excuse to see her again? But if that was the case, it was her own fault, really. She was the fool who had told him to come back. She had phrased it very casually, but Sarah had to admit she'd been pleased when she had seen him sitting in the front row again today. What did he want, though? Was he looking for another hook-up, maybe, bringing his co-workers as a shield in case she rejected him again? Or did he honestly think they'd just met yesterday?

Five minutes before showtime, Sarah excused herself. "Will you come see me here tomorrow?" Cas asked her. Now she was wary. Was he starting to get attached again? He seemed normal enough right now, but he was with a co-worker, and they were surrounded by lots of people. "How long are you in town for, Cas?" she countered.

He smiled. "Until the project is finished," he answered vaguely.

Sarah frowned. She wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. But maybe she was just being paranoid, because his co-worker Frank said, "Yeah, we're not sure how long the boss will spring for our fancy L.A. hotel rooms," and he had smiled.

Still, she merely said, "We'll see, Cas," and she walked away.

"I don't know, Cas," Frank said to him outside. "I honestly don't know. Part of me says it's her, but part of me says it's not."

Cas was agitated. How could her own brother not know her? "It's her, Frank. How could you possibly not be able to tell it's her?" he said insistently.

Now Frank was starting to see Dean's point. Cas wanted Gail back so badly that he had glommed on to the first woman he'd seen who even resembled her. "Go ahead," he said to Cas.

Cas furrowed his brow. "Go ahead?" he echoed. "Go ahead and what?"

"Go ahead and hit me," Frank said dryly, "because if I have to pick, I'd say it's not her. But I agree with you; there's quite a resemblance."

Cas took a deep breath. He was trying not to lose his temper. This was Gail's brother, and Dean had spent countless hours with her also, sometimes in close quarters. How could either of them not recognize her? Frank had taken her hand today. How could he not recognize that hand? The instant Gail had taken Cas's hand, it had found its way back home. She even smelled like herself.

Cas had been hoping that she would leave the studio after the show and he could see her and talk to her. But she must exit through the back, and there was security posted there. So he guessed there wasn't much point in hanging around here anymore today, not until he came up with a plan.

"I'll take you back to the bunker, Frank," Cas said. "Then I'll come back tomorrow and engage her in some more conversation. It's her, Frank. You'll see. Dean will see. It's her."

Cas was obsessed, Frank realized. This wasn't healthy. But Gail's brother was still on the fence, and he supposed a bit more investigation couldn't hurt. And it would give Cas something to do, so he wasn't lurking around the bunker, driving them all nuts.

Cas was pacing around in the bunker, waiting for the morning, when he heard Crowley's voice in his head. Come to the crossroads; the King might have news about Gail.

The magic word was spoken, and Cas disappeared immediately.

"I may know where she is," Crowley said without preliminary.

He had been curious what his Brother's reaction would be. Would he actually smile at Crowley, maybe even clap his hand on his shoulder, as he sometimes did with Dean?

No. Of course not. Castiel frowned. "I already know where she is," he told Crowley. "Was that all you wanted to say?"

Crowley looked at him, astonished. He didn't know what to feel more: surprise that Castiel had actually found Gail, or anger at his arrogance. He settled for some of each. "I didn't have to call you, you know. You and I don't exactly work for the same team. I could have just left you to twist in the wind."

Once again, Cas made the effort to hold his temper. He had to acknowledge that was true. And Crowley had actually taken the initiative to call Castiel himself. He no longer needed the King of Hell for the information, but he may need him for a resource in the future. And Cas was curious. So he merely said, "How did you find out where she was?"

"There's a fly in the ointment," Crowley replied enigmatically.

"In English, please," Castiel said testily.

Crowley smiled. "I have a spy. He's posing as a defector. He's been going around to the various cities where there are clusters of Demons. I believe them to be, for lack of a better term, terrorist cells. Apparently, they're waiting for instructions from Lucifer. It was on his orders that the attacks in Detroit were carried out."

Castiel thought about that. Had Lucifer orchestrated that killing spree, knowing full well that Dean and Ethan would respond, and would call their human and Angel friends in for backup? That seemed like a very plausible scenario. Strange that there had been no further incidents, though.

"At any rate, it's this individual who has reported to me that he saw a woman who bears a very strong resemblance to Gail, in Los Angeles. That's what I came here to tell you," Crowley continued. "How did YOU find out?"

Castiel told him about Dean's discovery of Gail on the television show, and his forays to Los Angeles with Dean and Frank.

"Why isn't she back in your loving arms, then?" Crowley said sarcastically.

"She still doesn't know who she is," Castiel replied sadly. "She's got blonde hair and green eyes now. Dean and Frank don't even believe it's her, but I know it is."

"Then why don't you just take her?" Crowley asked him. The King of Hell was puzzled. The Castiel he knew wasn't normally so passive.

"Because a part of me is starting to wonder if they might be right," Cas said quietly. "Dean seems so sure it wasn't her, and Frank isn't sure. Her own brother. But she knew my name! How could she have known me, then, if she doesn't know who she is?"

"Did she know Frank, or Dean?" Crowley asked him.

Castiel frowned. "No."

"But she knew who you were?" Crowley asked.

"Well, not exactly," Cas said uneasily. "At least, she didn't acknowledge that she did. But I know that she did. Just the way she looked at me, and the way she took my hand, when I offered it."

"Did she take Dean's hand, or Frank's, when they extended theirs? I believe humans call that a handshake, Castiel," Crowley said dryly.

"Yes, all right, she took their hands, too. But it was different with me," Cas insisted stubbornly. "She looked at me differently."

"And how was that, Castiel? Like she was considering getting a restraining order, perhaps?" Crowley said, smirking. "My employee showed me a picture he took of this girl, and he said he made some inquiries. She's worked for this so-called preacher for a year and a half, and her name is Sarah. For the record, I have my doubts as to whether it's her, as well. The picture was a bit blurry, but the girl in it didn't resemble the Gail I know. And, at the risk of having you draw your blade, I daresay that there were a couple of points at which I knew her quite well."

Crowley's hand was poised, ready to draw his own blade once Castiel drew his. If his Brother wanted to attack him over what he'd said, so be it. But Crowley was being sincere. He himself was skeptical that this woman actually was Gail. He had merely been exercising due diligence in informing Castiel. And maybe he'd wanted to stick the knife into his Brother a little. Their Father had blessed Castiel with a loving relationship, and the Angel kept screwing it up.

But Castiel did not draw his blade. Instead, he was staring at Crowley speculatively. "You did, didn't you?" he said slowly. "You need to come to Los Angeles to see her. Maybe you will recognize her."

Crowley was startled. "You want me to go to Los Angeles, to look at Gail? Or, this Sarah, should I say?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes."

Crowley's lips twitched. "With you?"

Castiel hesitated a moment. "Yes. You can see her and talk to her up close, and you will see that it's her." His lips twitched too now. "And if you don't believe it's her, I know you'll be brutally honest with me about it."

Crowley shook his head slowly. God's chief lieutenant and the King of Hell, attending a televangelist's show together to see if they could identify an Angel? Where was Gail with her quips now?

She was in Gordon's office, and they were having a drink together.

He was eyeing her suspiciously. He'd been waiting for her to tell him that she'd been spending her time talking with Castiel before the show, both today and yesterday. He hadn't felt the pulse of another Original in the room, nor seen him coming, but yet there Castiel had been, sitting right in the front row. But she hadn't said a word. He knew that she wouldn't know Dean, of course, or the guy from today, who Lucifer assumed was probably her brother, Frank. But she would remember Castiel from their hot, steamy weekend in Las Vegas, and she and Gordon had joked about her mystery man. Was she embarrassed?

What was Castiel waiting for, then? And how had he found her, anyway? This was premature, and Lucifer was not happy about it. He'd wanted to seduce Gail and make her his girlfriend before allowing Castiel to find her. He had made a few inroads with Gail, but she was still holding him at arms' length. And here was Castiel now, with his good looks and dazzling blue eyes, chatting her up. Even if she didn't remember that she loved his Brother, she would no doubt be feeling all warm and tingly from that weekend in Las Vegas. It was strange that Castiel had brought the others with him, though. Why?

"Who's that good-looking guy you've been talking to before the show for the past couple of days?" Gordon asked her in a light tone.

Sarah looked at him, startled. She didn't think he'd known, and she hadn't planned on telling him.

"I see everything, Sarah," Gordon said coolly, sitting back in his chair and draining his drink. He held out his glass. "How about you get us another, and we can talk about that?"

She frowned, but rose with her glass, and took his. She prepared the drinks at the bar, then brought them back to his desk, re-taking her seat.

"That's Cas," she told him. "The guy I was with in Vegas."

"Really?" He feigned surprise. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know," Sarah said uncomfortably. "At first I thought he was here for me, because of...well, never mind. Anyway, he's really here on business, and he's brought a couple of his co-workers to the show. I think he might just be here for the message."

"Naah, he's probably here for you," Lucifer said, making sure to keep the light, teasing tone in his voice. "I'll bet you showed him a very good time in Vegas, and he's looking for more of the same."

"I wondered about that, too," Sarah mused aloud. "But that was eight months ago, Gordon. And besides, I'm not even sure he remembers me. He introduced himself to me yesterday."

Gordon smirked. "Oh, he remembers you, all right. A guy never forgets a woman who gives him a good blow job."

Sarah set her glass down on the desk with a bang. "Look, Gordon, I know that's how you like to talk sometimes. But I'm not comfortable with that. I'm sorry I even told you anything about that weekend."

Lucifer frowned momentarily. Damn Castiel. Why did he have to show up now? Despite the prudish way Gail was behaving, Lucifer was sure that he could get her to open her legs for him, given a little bit more time. He knew that she liked it, and she'd been doing without for a long time now. He was growing impatient, though, and Castiel's sudden appearance wasn't helping. If Lucifer couldn't get Gail to open her legs willingly, he'd damn well force them open, then. But that hadn't been the plan, and Lucifer wanted his way.

He tried an ingratiating smile on for size. "I'm sorry, Sarah. Maybe I'm just jealous. He's astonishingly good-looking, and I know I'm not. Hell, I'd even do him, if I swung that way."

Sarah didn't quite know what to say to that. She picked her drink back up and took a sip, stalling until she could figure out what to say. "Well, he's just in town on business for a short time, anyway," she decided on. "And this is the only place I've ever seen him."

"Has he asked you out?" Gordon wanted to know.

"No, he hasn't," Sarah replied. Technically, she was telling the truth. He'd just asked if he could see her tomorrow. But she didn't feel like telling Gordon that. "I'm sure he's moved on, Gordon."

"But, have YOU?" Gordon asked her pointedly.

"Yes, I have," Sarah replied. But now, she was lying.

Cas disappeared from the bunker early in the morning. He hadn't told anyone where he was going. Frank and Dean would probably surmise that he had gone to Los Angeles again. Let them. He didn't care. But he hadn't been prepared to say who he was taking this time around. He was annoyed with them enough right now as it was, and he didn't need the extra trouble he would receive if they were to discover that he had a date with the King of Hell.

He summoned Crowley, and Crowley appeared instantly. Castiel did a double-take. The King was dressed in a suit and tie, as usual, but he had a red rose in his lapel.

Crowley saw his Brother looking, and he smirked. "What? I wanted to look nice for our date."

Cas rolled his eyes. He was already regretting this. But he needed confirmation from someone, just one person, that Sarah was indeed Gail. So far, no one had seemed to believe him. If Crowley also thought it was her, that would justify Cas's obsession.

Castiel told Crowley the address of the TV studio. "We'll go there now. We have to stand in line in order to be in the front row. I'll meet you there," Cas said to him.

"It's our first date, and you're not even going to hold my hand?" Crowley quipped.

Castiel glared at him. Crowley would be lucky if he wasn't holding Cas's blade by the end of the morning, stuck right through the middle of his palm, if he kept up with the smart remarks. "Let's go," he said, and winked out.

Crowley grinned. This should be a lot of fun.

Castiel and Sarah were talking with their heads close together now, and Crowley was bemused. This looked awfully familiar to him. Except for Gail's blonde hair and green eyes, of course, and the fact that the two of them weren't quite touching each other. But Castiel was still looking at her with that moony, lovestruck expression. It was a good thing for his Brother that this WAS Gail; otherwise, the woman would probably be on the phone with the police, and Gail would have killed him if she'd seen him like this with a different woman. Castiel couldn't take his eyes off of her.

When Sarah had first come over and the men had stood from their seats, she had smiled at Castiel. "Another co-worker?" she'd said, extending her hand to Crowley.

"I'm the boss," Crowley had said, smiling back at her. Then he'd taken her hand in both of his, just to piss Castiel off further. "And I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Sarah."

"Oh, you're British," she had remarked. "I just love your accent."

Crowley gave her a small bow, smirking at Castiel's expression. He held onto her hand a moment longer, and then he removed the rose from his lapel and gave it to her. "A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady."

Sarah's smile widened. "Thank you," she said, sniffing at the rose.

"Taken from my own personal garden," Crowley told her. And he did have one, too. Crowley had always liked the finer things in life. A few of the Demons who currently enjoyed Crowley's favour were the gardeners, and a few who had especially annoyed him were in charge of the fertilizer.

"So, Armageddon is upon us, is it?" Crowley asked Sarah. "And your boss is here to tell us how to survive it?" Castiel had briefed him shortly before she'd appeared, so he would have something to converse with her about.

Sarah was pleased. Not only had Cas brought his boss here as a potential convert, but this man was courtly and charming. Cas certainly kept some good company. "Yes," she answered Crowley. "He really cares about people."

"When did he receive the call?" Crowley asked her, his eyes twinkling.

Sarah paused. "You know what? I don't really know. He's never shared that particular story with me." She smiled again. "I guess I'll have to ask him about that sometime."

Cas felt a little nervous now. She'd looked strange when she was talking about the "Reverend". Almost as if she had some kind of warm feelings towards him, or something.

Crowley had noticed that, too. He was glad he had come now. And he was intrigued by this preacher fellow, too. Last night, in preparation for coming here today, he had done some research on the Reverend Devlin. Funny, if you removed the "n" in his last name, it could be an anagram for "devil". Crowley found this amusing. And from what he had been able to discern, so was the man himself. He had come for the opening act, but now, he wanted to stay for the show.

Then she had moved on to Castiel, and she had sat down next to him. Crowley continued to observe them. It was kind of strange that the seat next to Castiel was empty, though. The rest of the theatre was packed. Lucky that Sarah was also in charge of ticket availability for the show; after that first day, she had pulled that seat number from the package of available seats. Just in case.

"It's good to see you again, Sarah," Cas said to her as she sat down.

"It's nice to see you too, Cas," she replied. "And it's great to see another one of your co-workers here, ready to receive the message. I'm impressed that you brought your boss this time."

Cas leaned in close. "He's not the boss, not really. He just thinks he is. So, we humour him in his delusion." He smiled, and Sarah laughed. "I think there's one of those in every workplace," she said to him.

Crowley was fairly certain that the two of them were having a laugh at his expense; it certainly wouldn't be the first time. But he was too preoccupied to care. There was too much going on in his head right now.

First of all, he knew without a doubt that Sarah was indeed Gail. He'd known it the instant she'd stood before him, and if he'd had any doubts at all, they would have been erased the second he'd taken her hand. He hadn't had the opportunity to hold it all that much, but Crowley remembered very well how her hand had felt in his. So Dean thought that she wasn't Gail, and Frank wasn't sure? How could that possibly be? Actually, Frank, he could see, perhaps. The brother and sister hadn't spent that much time together in the past few years, due to the actions of Crowley himself, and then later, to the actions of Castiel, during his Demon days. But, Dean? That really did surprise Crowley. Dean was a connoisseur of women. He and Gail had never had THAT type of relationship, of course. But, still. Crowley had stolen a few glances at her body, and he found it hard to believe that Dean would not have recognized her on that basis alone. Castiel obviously had; but then, his Brother was much more intimately familiar with her in that regard. How he was restraining himself from touching her now was beyond Crowley. The two of them had been going at it like rabbits when they'd had the Demon blood in them. But apparently, no one was supposed to talk about that any more. The whole lot of them seemed to have decided to act like that had never happened. Well, if that was how they preferred to live, far be it from Crowley. But the bottom line was that Crowley had touched that body too, and he recognized her curves, and the way she moved. Whether or not he was going to share this opinion with his Brother remained to be seen.

Crowley had also noticed a woman peeking out from behind the stage curtain. She had an attractive enough face, but it was hideously scarred on one side. She was looking at Gail and Castiel, and she was scowling. A woman after his own heart. Perhaps she and "Sarah" didn't get along. Crowley knew how catty things could get between women in the workplace, sometimes.

Then a flash of something in the audience caught Crowley's eye as he'd been looking behind him, surveying the studio audience curiously. He'd been idly examining their faces, wondering what sort of people would come to a show like this. He saw Paul, who was sitting halfway back, and he nodded slightly when they'd made eye contact. He would ask Paul for a report after the show. Crowley was pretty sure he recognized some of his subjects sitting with Paul, though, so he would have to be discreet about it so as not to blow Paul's cover. There hadn't been much intelligence to report, but at least Paul had come through with regard to Gail. Crowley had been telling the truth when he'd told the men that he bore Gail no ill will, and that he didn't want to see her with Lucifer. He would likely feel that way even if he didn't still have the blood bond with her, which he strongly suspected that he might. But if he did, he was the only one who had one, now. Castiel and Gail had lost theirs when they had been cleansed by the cure, and the potion had also washed away Gail's attraction towards Crowley. But the King of Hell had partaken in no such potion; therefore, he was still drawn to Gail. It was lucky that he had only taken one vial of her blood into himself, though; otherwise, he and Castiel would have had a real problem. So, while Crowley didn't believe he actually loved Gail, per se, he felt affection towards her, and he didn't want to see harm come to her. And he would never tell any of that lot, but he felt responsible for many things that had gone wrong for her in her various existences. And not just because he had had her parents killed in this one.

That was one reason why he was contemplating not telling Castiel what his findings were. If Gail was happy as Sarah, maybe they should all just leave her alone. All she'd ever experienced with Castiel had been heartbreak and tragedy. And Lucifer and Metatron would have no real reason to come after her if she was living her life as Sarah. It was only when she was with Castiel, and with the Winchesters, that she was exposed to constant danger.

As Crowley scanned the audience, he saw another familiar face, and this one startled him. It was Oliver, the psychic who had been the conduit for them to speak with his mother while she had been in the Netherworld. What on earth was HE doing here? Last Crowley had heard, Oliver was an atheist. Maybe he had suddenly gotten religion after they had all darkened his door. He grinned. Maybe he should call out to Oliver and wave, just to see his reaction. Crowley hadn't had a good laugh in a very long time.

And what ABOUT Crowley's mother, anyway? He hadn't seen her or heard from her since she had been returned to life. Odd. Where was she, and what had she been doing all this time? And, why hadn't he heard from her? Rowena liked to stir things up; Crowley couldn't imagine her just sitting in a cottage somewhere, knitting doilies. Crowley and Gail had planned to team up after the cure to kill his mother, or at least, he thought that had been the plan, at the time. But Gail had gone back to her former Angelic ways after that, and then they had all been preoccupied with Lucifer's escape. Well, she was certainly not in any condition to help him right now.

He saw a woman with long, raven-black hair standing near the back, and he did a double-take. Except for the hair, she had looked to him exactly like his mother, for a minute there. She turned away then, and her hair fell across her cheek, obscuring her face. Then Crowley decided he was being ridiculous. That was the same thing the other men had accused Castiel of, in a way. Crowley had just been thinking about Rowena; that was why he had seen her face on that other woman. But that was where their similarity ended: unlike Castiel with Gail, Crowley had absolutely no desire to see Rowena again.

"Can I take you out for a cup of coffee after the show today?" Cas was asking Sarah now.

She was seriously considering it. Sarah had to admit that she had started to hope that he would be here in the morning before the show, and when she saw that he was, she had been happy about it. She supposed a cup of coffee couldn't hurt, and she would get to look at that face and those eyes of his while they talked. She really wanted to know now if he even did remember their weekend in Las Vegas. Maybe he just hadn't wanted to talk about it in front of his colleagues. Now she was hoping that he did remember it. How humiliating would it be if he didn't? Funny, he'd behaved like some kind of a whacko stalker on that last day in Vegas, but now she was starting to feel like she was the whacko. Ever since he'd shown up here on that first day, he was all that she could think about. After each day's show was over, she would go about her routine, but she felt like she was just going through the motions, marking time until the next day, when she could see him again. This was crazy, and it was stupid. He was just in town on business, and eventually he would leave. And then what would she do? Follow him to the airport and beg him not to go, the same as he'd done with her?

No. Sarah wasn't into getting her heart broken, and she didn't crave rejection. So when he left town, that would be it for her.

But Cas was taking her hand gently now, and he said, "Please, Sarah. Just a cup of coffee."

Who was she kidding? "OK, Cas. One cup of coffee. I'll meet you in front of the theatre. But it won't be right away. I have a few things to do after the show's over. Do you have the time to hang around? Or do you have to work?"

"I'll be there when you're done," he assured her, "no matter how long it takes."

Then it was almost time for the show to begin, and she jumped up from her seat as the lights began to dim. Cas rose too, and curiously to Sarah, so did his boss. Now that she thought about it, it was strange that Cas hadn't introduced his boss by name. Sarah said goodbye to them both and hurried backstage. Gordon had seemed annoyed last night, so she wanted to show up in plenty of time before he went onstage.

Gordon came out into the corridor, and his face broke into a smile when he saw her already standing there.

"Have a good show," Sarah told him.

He walked up to her and took her hands on his. "I'm glad you're always here before I go on," he said, smiling down at her. "Gives me the inspiration I need. Now, how about a little more inspiration?" He leaned down to kiss her on the lips, but she averted her head at the last second, and he ended up kissing her hair.

Gordon frowned. "Let me guess. Cas is here again today."

Sarah tried to ignore his sharp tone. "Yeah, and he brought another convert," she said, attempting to mollify him. "His boss. A very well-dressed British gentleman."

Gordon squeezed her hands painfully. "Ow!" she exclaimed, jerking her hands away from his.

"I'm sorry, Sarah," Lucifer said distractedly. But he was stunned now. No. It couldn't be. He had neither seen nor felt them. And why would Castiel be here with Crowley, of all people? Were the two of them planning to team up to try to kill him? Were they going to abduct Gail away from him? He moved to the curtain and parted it cautiously, and sure enough, there they were. The chief Angel and the King of Hell, sitting next to each other. There was no way he was going out there. One or the other of them were dangerous enough. They shouldn't know it was him; but had they found out, somehow? No. They had to be here for her.

Well, they weren't going to have her. Lucifer had been enjoying this game far too much to stop playing it now. But he wanted to avoid a full-scale confrontation, if he could.

He turned to the stage manager. "Show's cancelled for today. You'll have to tell them I'm indisposed." Then he took Sarah by the arm. "Come to my office, Sarah."

She looked at him. "What's the matter, Gordon?"

"I'm not feeling well," he told her.

"You were fine a moment ago," she pointed out.

"Well, I'm not, now," he said. He grabbed her hand and put his other arm around her, propelling her through the stage door.

Sarah was confused. What was wrong with him all of a sudden? It couldn't be the fact that Cas was out there. Maybe Gordon wasn't wild about that fact, but she was sure it wouldn't provoke this type of reaction. Cas had been out there before.

They got to his office, and Gordon sat her down on the couch. Then he sat beside her, taking her hand again. "I'm so sorry, Sarah. I guess I'm just having a bad day. I just really didn't want to go out there today."

"Why not?" she asked him, curious. He was acting strangely, even for him.

Lucifer had to tell her something, so he decided to bastardize the "sermon" he had been going to deliver today. "Because I just can't stand it sometimes, Sarah," he said to her, trying his best to look anguished. "Armageddon is practically here, and so many people are going to die. There's nothing we can do about it, and I can't warn them all, Sarah! I'm supposed to go out there and tell people that thousands of Americans will die tomorrow, knowing that none of us can do a damn thing to stop it! Do you know how hard that is, Sarah? Do you have any idea?"

"No, I don't," she said softly. She felt terrible for Gordon. Sometimes she forgot how sensitive he was, and how much he really cared about people. He was eccentric, and sometimes he was extremely crude, but his heart was in the right place.

"Can I have a hug, Sarah? Please?" he said to her. He was shaking, and he looked like he was about to cry.

It would be the least she could do for him. "Sure, Gordon." She opened her arms and he hugged her. They stayed that way for a minute, and then Gordon disengaged himself from the embrace.

"Thanks for being here for me, Sarah," he said, blinking his eyes as if they stung. Actually, they did, a bit. He had been trying to manufacture some tears, but they wouldn't come. Lucifer just couldn't think of anything sad right now. She had hugged him willingly, and she looked so sorry for him. Perhaps he'd been going about this the wrong way. He thought back to the night that Gail and Castiel had come to the cage. The only time she had ever seemed demonstrative with his Brother on that night was when Castiel had cried and showed her his sad, puppy-dog eyes. Maybe that was the way that he had gotten into her pants.

"Can you please come to lunch with me, Sarah?" he said to her, making his voice tremble. "I need someone to talk to. Maybe I've been going about this Ministry thing the wrong way. Maybe I should just give up."

Sarah was alarmed. "No, Gordon, you can't do that. Please don't do that. People need to receive the message, and they need you to tell it to them."

"I don't know, Sarah," he sighed.

"Well, I do," she said firmly. "Take me to lunch, and we'll talk about it some more."

He smiled. "That would be great. I could use a sympathetic ear. But, I'm not taking you away from anything, am I?"

Cas! Dammit. She'd forgotten. Well, it had just been a cup of coffee. She'd been working for Gordon for nearly two years now, and he was upset, and talking about quitting. The least she could do was listen to him and try to talk him out of it. If Cas was mad, or disappointed in her, so be it. She didn't owe him anything.

Cas stood outside the theatre for a few hours before he realized that she wasn't going to come. It was strange; the stage manager had come out and told everyone that Reverend Devlin was ill, and that there would be no show today. Most of the people in the audience had been upset, but Cas had been happy. He wouldn't be forced to sit there and listen to "the Rev", and he wouldn't have to sit next to the King of Hell, fighting over the armrest for half an hour. And because there would be no show, Gail would likely be coming outside sooner.

As the people began to file out of the auditorium, Castiel had looked at Crowley and said, "So?"

"So?" Crowley had responded. "So, what?"

Castiel glared at him. "Really?" Crowley tried to look innocent. He did so enjoy yanking his Brother's chain. "Is it her, or not?" Castiel continued, raising his voice.

"It had better be, or I'll have to let her know you're thinking of cheating on her," Crowley said, smirking. "Did you not ask that woman out on a date?"

"So, you do believe it's her," Castiel said, relieved.

"What I believe is not important," Crowley answered evasively. "It's what you believe that's important."

Cas let out a breath, frustrated. "Be that as it may, I want to know: Do you think it's her?"

"Does it matter?" Crowley shot back. He hadn't yet made up his mind what he wanted to tell Castiel on that subject, and since the show had been cancelled so abruptly, he hadn't had the time to think about it some more and make his decision. "You've already made up your mind. So do what you will, Castiel. You always do, anyway. I have business to conduct."

By this time they had reached the front of the theatre, and Crowley turned away, melting into the crowd. An instant later, he was gone.

Cas stared after him for a while. Funny how it made him so angry whenever anyone else was evasive with him, yet he realized he'd been answering questions to others that way all his life. But now he knew that bringing Crowley here had been an exercise in futility. All Crowley had done was needle him, and he had not even given him a straight answer about the one thing they had come here together for in the first place.

And now, she wasn't even coming. Had he scared her off somehow? Put too much pressure on her? But he'd only asked her to have a cup of coffee with him, and she had said yes. Obviously, she'd had second thoughts about it. Or, had she not been able to show up due to the show's sudden cancellation?

Cas needed to bring someone with him tomorrow, someone that he could trust. Someone benevolent. It had been a mistake bringing Crowley here. Even though Gail hadn't recognized Crowley, maybe she could sense that there was something the matter with him. She had always been very intuitive.

He doubted that Dean would come again, and Cas didn't want to ask Frank again, either. But there was someone else who knew her very well, someone who he hadn't asked yet. He would do so tomorrow. He was not going to give up. He was never going to give up.