Disclaimer: Not mine, please don't sue.

A/n: Thanks for all the reviews, it makes me happy to know people are reading. This is a shorter chapter, but it seemed to work better in my mind as a separate chapter from the next part.


I was on my 5th beer when I saw Sam running into the bar looking around frantically, Dean wasn't far behind. He finally caught sight of me and looked surprised to see me just sitting there.

Sam rushed over, "Ben, what happened? One minute you were there, the next the Angels whisked you off to La-la land! We tracked you to that abandoned building, but Cas said you were here... but he wasn't really forthcoming with what had happened... seemed sort of out of it."

Dean was his usual gruff self, "Went to all the trouble of having Ruby track you, and you're just a some bar getting trashed? I don't believe this!"

I shrugged and nursed my beer solemnly, "Well, I tortured the demon. Uriel booby-trapped the Devil's Trap. Demon got loose. I expect he'll claim I did it."

Although, technically, I was an Angel too. I tried not to think about it. Thank God I was so good at compartmentalizing. On second thought, not 'Thank God'. Screw him.

Dean and Sam took seats across from me. Dean looked livid, "Alastair got away?"

"Well, I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't exactly have the capability to kill him, did I? And he was about to ship Castiel back to the Angel-farm in the sky. So instead, I chopped off the head off the man Alastair was wearing...."

"Oh." Dean shifted in his spot, not looking me in the eyes. I suspect he was uncomfortable with the fact that I had volunteered to go in his place. He was the type of person who was uneasy accepting favors from friends, let alone someone who he'd previously shown nothing but contempt for.

Sam spoke up. "So, you think it's Uriel who's killing the Angels? Why would he do that?"

"I really don't know. I shudder to think." I shrugged.

"What's got you so down and out, Chuckles?" Dean asked, noting the depressed slumped posture that I wasn't concerned with trying to conceal. I don't know if was my mind playing tricks, but I thought I might have heard a hint of concern from the oldest Winchester. Dean must have caught himself and gave me a dark grin, "Didn't get enough of a torturing fix when you were working over Alastair?"

"Very funny, Dean." I gave him an unimpressed roll of my eyes, "You're a modern day Aristophanes."

"Who?" Dean stared at me blankly.

I gave him a long-suffering look, "Oh, that's right. You've never read anything that doesn't have women with big heaving breasts on the cover. What was Miss. February's favorite food again?"

"Chocolate strawberries." Dean answered almost instantly, then saw both looks on both Sam and my face, "What? The articles are interesting!" He then glared at the two of us, "And I'm a guy! I like hot women! You two are the weird ones. Like a couple of nerdy little girls."

"Perhaps I just don't need to get my fix of ogling the female anatomy by looking magazines, when I can just as easily get the real thing." I stated, humor coloring my tone.

Dean's mouth dropped, "Are you suggesting that I can't get any? Do you know who you're talking to? I can get some whenever I want! I can get more than you any day of the week!"

Sam just rolled his eyes and didn't get involved in the argument, clearly knowing me well enough to see that I was simply goading Dean for the Hell of it.

"It's a matter of quality over quantity, Winchester." I tried to keep my amusement at his reaction from showing too much on my face, "How many women that you pick up are actually sober at the time?"

Dean's mouth opened and then closed a few times, clearly not having a good comeback, "Oh, like you can actually pick up chicks! Give me a break! Probably too busy ready dusty old manuscripts and swinging around that penis extension you call a sword, like your that Star Wars Kid from the internet."

"Dean, Dean, Dean...." I sighed, "With age comes experience. For example.... we're in America." I stated simply without further explanation, making Dean look both expectant and annoyed at the same time.

"Yeah? What's your point?"

The corner of my mouth twitched slightly upward and I leaned closer to him, "What possible reason could I have to talk the way I do?" I looked around, "I mean, do you honestly believe this is my real accent? I wasn't exactly born & raised in Britain..."

Dean looked confused for a second, "Wait... what?" Then his eyes widened in realization and he laughed, "Oh! Oh, that's good! You're good!"

Surely Hell must have just frozen over. Dean might have just started to like me.

"You were a roadie for the Rolling Stones?" Dean asked amazed, "Get out of town! You must have some stories!"

I laughed, "Oh, I've got some good ones. Let me tell you, there was this one time one the road, when Mick and Keith..."

I went on to tell him all the lewd details of the drugs, sex, and whatever else that I'd gotten up to with the band.

Dean was enthralled, "Man, I am so jealous!"

Sam was ahead of us still rolling his eyes.