Author's Note: There's really no excuse for the delay, but I'm gonna use one anyway. New job, busy, busy, blah, blah.

On to the important things!

(Also... I may be changing the title of this in the near future, so it will read either 'The Alphabet of Castiel and Jody' or 'The A to Z of Castiel and Jody'. Feel free to vote on it. No idea why the urge to hit me, but I like these two better than what it is now. It shouldn't affect alerts or anything, but just in case - letting you guys know now. I might wait until it's finished to change it though. Less of a hassle for the readers, methinks.)

G is for Gift

"I have something for you."

Castiel looks up from the tome he's reading in time to see Jody pull up a seat across from him in the kitchen. Before he can respond, her hand is reaching across the table, palm up, a cell phone presented in her hand.

"Here," she insists, lips quirking secretively.

The angel's certain the punch line has already flown far over his head, and he stares at the phone with confusion. "You're giving me my phone?"

It is his phone, after all. Briefly, Castiel wonders how she'd procured it from him without his knowledge. It's a mystery he'll never solve, by the mischief dancing in her eyes. It slides across the table in time with her laugh, nudging up against his fingers. "Be excited, featherpants. I pimped it out for you—and don't you tell a living soul that I just used the word pimp, or there will be serious violence in your future."

Castiel picks it up, turning it over, in search of clues. His curiosity eventually wins out. "What do you mean?"

He's inquiring of the phone and not her threat; the idea of her actually hurting him is laughable and... oddly, endearing. "Here, open it," Jody says, leaning over and pointing a finger to direct him through his investigation. "There are maps, in case you get lost. Games, if you get bored. I fixed your camera, so someday this week we're going to go out and see if you like photography. I also sussed out your texting if you need it or lose voice signal, and I updated your contact list so you can see the actual names when we call you. Best of all? Custom ringtones."

Her own phone is already poised for action, and with a thumb press, they wait.

Moments later, Castiel's phone starts vibrating in his hand, singing at him in a chipper voice. "If you've got troubles, I've got 'em too… there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you… we stick together and can see it through… 'cause you've got a friend in me… you've got a friend in me..."

JODY IS CALLING the screen tells him.

Castiel, for reasons he can't understand, finds himself smiling. It's slow at first, barely there and a little bemused, but unmistakable. He glances up, taking in the sight of her grinning eyes staring back at him. She's meant it as a joke, and yet not. It's funny how one little ringtone can hold so many meanings.

"It's from a movie," Jody tells him. Her son's favorite. "You probably haven't seen it, but we'll add it to the list." She takes a sip of her coffee. "So, what do you think? You like it?"

He nods. "Yes… thank you."

Jody chuckles and pours a second cup for him. "You can change it later if you want."

He never will.

He makes a face at the smell of the coffee though and Jody laughs harder. She drags her chair over beside his, hovering at his shoulder. "Alright, let's see if you're any good at Angry Birds."

They haven't gotten around to that photography outing, but the sight before her eyes is definitely worth a picture.

"An angel playing with a puppy," Jody observes, an amused smile curling her lips. "Don't see that every day."

Dean snorts. "A little one-sided to be playing."

Castiel had been standing guard over their vehicle while the sheriff and Dean had run into the supply shop to pick up the weekly essentials. A young girl had passed by on the sidewalk, a small dachsund straining against its leash to investigate the stoic-looking angel. It yapped happily, drawing Castiel's attention which quickly turned apprehensive at the overly eager intruder.

"Hi there," the teenager had said, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, little Rooster here is in a terminally good mood."

The angel's brow furrows. "This is a small dog, not a breed of poultry." It's said like a question, because he can't imagine confusing the two. Still, he doesn't want to offend.

A giggle. "No, that's his name. Rooster."

"Oh." He glances down at the spastic tugging of tiny teeth on his pant leg.

"Come on. Come on, Roostie. Let's go." But the puppy is staring up at the angel with wounded eyes and a neglected frown.

"What does it want?" Castiel blurts, at a loss and a little unnerved by the deprived stare.

"I think he wants you to pet him," the girl had said around a laugh. "You can, if you want."

Castiel had looked uncertain, but lowered himself as close to the puppy's level as he could. Hesitantly, he'd reached out and laid a large hand over the little thing's head, shrouding its face in shadow. The puppy huffed at the inconvenience, but was tolerant as his new friend figured out the proper procedure on how to play.

A stroke here, a scratch behind the ears there, and Rooster's tail was knifing happily through the air. Castiel smiled a little, finding himself immediately endeared to the pocket-sized creature. His own sudden contentment was unprecedented, but not unwelcome.

"He's nice," his gravelly voice observes now.

Jody chuckles from her place on the opposite side of the street. "That's freaking adorable."

Another snort from the hunter. "Like watching a grizzly bear try on ice skates."

Jody doesn't stop smiling. "He's sweet, Dean. He'll get his bearings eventually." It's the first time in a long time that the angel had put forth actual effort into learning how to behave like a human. Or rather, to pass as one convincingly. He's doing that a lot lately, because Heaven and Hell couldn't care less about a supposedly dead angel walking around. There are other concerns now and at least that weight has been alleviated from Castiel's ever-bowed shoulders.

"Yeah," Dean mutters, but there's no real venom there. He's just tired.

Jody notices his mood and sighs. "He's just trying to please you, you know. And honestly—maybe it's just seeing him like this, but I don't really believe that what happened… what he did? I don't think it was really him. Do you?"

She genuinely wants to know, brow knit with uncertainty, and Dean is at least smart enough to realize she isn't picking sides.

But still… that ever-present question. Had it really been Cas?

No, his mind shouts. "I have no idea," he says. "But if that were the case, why wouldn't he say anything?"

"Would he, though?" Jody points out, trying to understand, trying to help him understand.

Dean thinks about this, and the answer worries him. He hates to admit it—and yet he's a little relieved too. "No. Cas wouldn't say a thing." Because he'd learned how to deal with emotions the old fashioned Winchester way—bury it all and carry the blame. Guilt had been a part of a complete breakfast with Team Free Will.

Jody sees his conflict, sees the angel's conflict from across the street, and feels a heaviness on her heart. She just wants her two boys to get along. Three, counting Sam, but the younger Winchester has slipped into a coma and it isn't looking good. Adopting the angel into the family had been surprisingly easy. "I know you're having a hard time with things, and you're angry. You have every right to be, but just… ease up a little on him?"

Castiel idolizes the hunter, as every one knows. It's impossible to deny, and it's a shame things are so stormy. Jody is constantly disappointed at the way the two of them clash, because they're meant to mesh. The camaraderie is still there, she can sense it. And if she can get them working together again, in sync instead of at odds, everything else will fall into place.

Dean doesn't say anything. But he doesn't dispute it, either.

It's a step in the right direction.

When the hunter and angel are out on their own separate hunt, it's then that things take a definitive turn. The latter had taken a rough beating from the Wendigo they were after, holding off the deformed creature while Dean had gone for the flares.

Castiel is hurt, but shakes himself off and gets to his feet. To his surprise, Dean hovers at his side. "Hey man, you okay?"

The angel blinks, looking at him with a sort of bewildered apprehension. "Why are you asking me that?"

So far, since regaining his memory, it's been nothing but business between them. Every once in awhile the dam breaks, and there's arguments to put political debates to shame, but it's never… this. Not like it used to be. Castiel feels a pang in his chest at the possibility of mending fences, but buries the hope beneath the detatched front he struggles to maintain.

"Just... 'cause. You took a pretty bad hit back there. And, you know, I wanted to make sure you're five by five. Especially since your healing powers have taken a plunge lately."

"I'll be fine."

Dean sighs. Hanging his head, he stands in silence for awhile. "We never asked you that much, did we?"

Castiel answers with his usual silence.

The older Winchester nods, a flicker of self-reproach shining mutely in his gaze before dimming out to a dull resignation. "We should have. It's just… you're Castiel, angel of the Lord. You take hits, but you always get back up. I guess… when you died," here, Dean's voice hitches, "or when we thought you died… it sunk in that you could be killed. But by then, it was already too late."

The angel grimaces. "I apologize. I didn't mean for you to have to go through—"

But Dean is cutting him off, holding up a staying hand. "Just… don't, okay?" His lips upturn just that slight fraction, enough to let Castiel know that things are getting closer to normal. "Stow the angel motor-mouth for a second. You got a lot to be sorry for—hell, we both do—but don't sweat the small stuff."

Castiel considers this. "Small stuff?"

"Things you don't have any power over."

In his pocket, Castiel's phone starts trilling, cutting off any further discussion. "You've got a friend in me… when the road looks rough ahead, and you're miles and miles from your nice warm bed, you just remember what your old pal said… boy, you've got a friend in me…"

Dean's smirk is a legitimately amused manifestation of his thoughts. "Nice ringtone, Buzz."

Castiel doesn't comment, instead answering his phone. He feels inexplicably lighter, reading her name across the display. "Jody?" There's a new job just a few miles out, she reports. But there's something else he has to take care of first. "If it isn't any trouble, could I speak with you in private?"

Of course, she tells him.

Castiel bids his thanks and hangs up, looking to Dean. "Do you require transportation?"

"You mean by Angel Airlines?" the hunter asks, shaking his head. Castiel, while suffering many new dangers with the use of his powers, still has little to no trouble zapping in and out of places. "Naw, I'll make it from here. What's up?"

"Something I have to do."

Without another word, Castiel is gone with a rustle of wings.

Jody starts at the sudden appearance of broody angel in her direct path. "Hey, Cas. That didn't take long." She takes in the look of him, the grim but determined set of his jaw. "Everything okay?"

Don't sweat the small stuff, Dean had told him. Things you don't have any power over.

He'll concede the advice. But there are things he does have power over. The abilities he still retains are a gift, and he isn't going to waste them.

"I need your help."

Author's Note: Up next... H is for Heal.

This one was light on Cas/Jody interaction, but the next couple chapters are REALLY going to kick things off. Review to your heart's content, because I know it contents mine!