"Dammit, Cas!" Imogen barked angrily, throwing his discarded boot across the room at his sleeping form.

It slapped him right across the face and he instantly shot up, "Wh-what?" he looked around the room frantically and then saw the boot laying on the bed next to him, "What's going on? Why are you throwing shoes at me?"

"It's your shoe!" she barked, throwing the other boot at him.

Castiel skillfully dodged the shoe and threw his legs over the side of the bed so he was sitting facing her, "Why are you throwing my shoes at me?"

"Because!" she yelled, "You leave them all over the floor and then I fucking trip over them when I get up to go to the bathroom."

Castiel glanced over to look at the clock, it was three in the morning, "Can't sleep?" he asked.

"I just fucking told you I needed to go to the bathroom."

Castiel nodded knowingly, "All right, all right. I'm sorry about my shoes. I'll try harder in the future not to leave them lying around."

"You're damn right you won't," she barked.

"Can we go back to sleep?"

"Do whatever the fuck you want."

Castiel flinched. Imogen used curse words all of the time, even more so in the two weeks since she had regained her memory, but right now was different. Right now she was boiling with anger and Castiel needed to get to the bottom of this.

"Imogen," he sighed softly, "You're not this upset about a pair of shoes, are you?" he asked calmly.

"Yeah I'm pissed about the shoes!" she yelled, "That's what I said, isn't it?"

Castiel sighed and nodded, "They're just shoes."

Imogen shook his head, "Just shut the hell up and go to bed," she muttered, "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

The dark haired man ran a hand through his hair and rubbed some of the sleep from his eyes, and then it came to him, "I know what this is really about," he stated, almost proudly.

"Just what is that?" she demanded, eyes glowing with anger.

"You're frustrated."

"No shit, Sherlock. If you would just pick up your shoes I wouldn't be."

"Yes you would," Castiel stated, "Because this isn't about my shoes."

Imogen just continued to glare at him, daring him to speak.

"This is about your recent lack of sexual activity."

Now her eyes were almost the size of dinner plates, "Excuse me?"

"You haven't had sex since you regained your memories. We were having sex regularly up until then. You're stressed because you haven't been having sex," he stated matter-of-factly.

Imogen blinked a couple of times, "Wow," she started to get pissed off, but then realized he was right, "Huh. So you're saying I need to get laid."

Castiel nodded, "That's one way of putting it."

"You've got a point," she admitted, "It wouldn't hurt to get some."

This got Castiel's attention, "So does that mean you wanna…"

Imogen nodded, "Yeah, but I'm gonna get some sleep. Tomorrow we can go out to the bar and get liquored up and we can both have a little fun."

Castiel felt his whole body go ridged. She hadn't been that crude with him before, and if he was being honest it was a real turn on, "Oh-okay," he stammered, "Sounds good."

Imogen nodded and shut off the light, laying back in her bed and turning so that she was facing away from Castiel.

Castiel sat there in the dark for a few minutes pondering what she had just said. They were going out that night and they were going to have a good time. Imogen had just said those words to him. She was finally letting him back into her life, and he was thrilled. He lay back in bed and couldn't fall asleep for almost an hour because of just how excited he was.

Both Imogen and Castiel slept late into the afternoon and when they finally did wake up Imogen spent most of the day on the computer searching for cases and Castiel spent his day watching television. As it was starting to get dark outside Imogen took a shower and started to get ready to go out. She'd picked out a low cut sweater, skin tight jeans, and boots to wear. She walked back into the room to be met by Castiel's stares.

"What?" she asked, running a brush through her hair and adding a tiny amount of lipstick.

"You're wearing that?" he asked.

"Yeah," she turned to face him, "It's snowing outside or I would have gone naked."

Castiel frowned and looked at her, "Why are you putting on lipstick? You never wear makeup."

"We talked about this, Cas. I'm planning on getting laid tonight."

"You know you don't have to try that hard," he was a little confused, "You're already very attractive."

"I know," she said with a smirk, "I just find it fun looking extra hot every once in a while."

"Okay," Castiel said with a nod, "Let me get changed and we can go," he grabbed some clothing out of his bag.

Imogen narrowed her eyes at him, "Wait, you're coming?"

Castiel nodded, "I was planning on it."

"Why?"

He scratched his head, "Because… It might be a little hard for you to engage in sexual activity if I'm not there."

Imogen thought about what he said for a few moments, but didn't actually realize what he meant, "I mean, you can come Cas. But I really don't need a wingman."

Castiel shrugged the comment off and then went to the bathroom to put on his clean clothes. Twenty minutes later Imogen was pulling into the bar with Castiel in the passenger's seat.

"Now," she checked her reflection in the mirror, "We shouldn't walk in together. People will think we're married or something. I'm gonna head in and you can wait five or ten minutes and then come in," she looked him in the eye, "I know Dean made you promise to look out for me but I can hold my own. So unless you see someone slip something into my drink or I literally can't hold myself up, please do me a favor and don't intervene."

Castiel sat in silence while she talked, taking in everything she had to say before speaking, "So you don't want me anywhere near you this evening?"

"Nope," she popped the p, "That's the idea, anyways."

"Can I ask a question?"

"Sure."

"Why can't I come near you? Are you embarrassed of me?"

"No," she shook her head, "That's not it. But if the guys see another guy hanging around me they are going to think we're in a relationship, and then they won't try to hit on me. Understand?"

"You want these men to flirt with you?"

"Uh, yeah," she narrowed her eyes, "That's the general idea when you go into a bar trying to get laid by a stranger."

"Wait," now Castiel was completely confused, "You want to have sex with one of these men inside the bar tonight?"

"Yes, Castiel!" she exclaimed, "What the hell do you think we've been talking about?" and then it hit her, "Oh no," her stomach dropped, "Oh no no. Cas… You didn't think we were… You didn't think we were going to have sex?"

"Yes," he stated, "Yes I did think that."

"Why?" she groaned, "Cas, I've been straight up with you. We are HUNTING partners. Nothing else."

"I know that," he agreed, "But I figured at some point you would change your mind. You used to seem to enjoy being with me. We have an obscene amount of sexual chemistry."

Imogen closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, "Cas, listen… You and I are over. That's just it. We were once a thing, but now we aren't," she gently reached over and took his hand, "I'm sorry Cas. I'm just not a relationship girl. Maybe once I was, but I'm not ever going to be that girl ever again."

"But why?" he questioned stoically.

For a few moments Imogen sat there and pondered his question. She tried to come up with a good answer, but she couldn't. So instead of replying she simply got out of the car and trudged through the snow into the bar.

Castiel watched her walk inside the bar. He wanted to immediately follow her but he didn't, per her request. She really didn't want to be with him, something he hadn't realized before. He thought if he had just given her a little time that she would come around. But instead she was going inside with the intention of having sex with a stranger.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number of the man that he knew could help him understand what he was feeling.

"Hello?" Dean answered almost immediately.

"Dean, it's Cas," the former angel stated.

"Yeah, I figured, I have called ID. What's up?"

"It's Imogen."

"What happened?" he demanded, "Is she okay? Is she hurt?"

"She's fine. It's just," he sighed, "She's at a bar, trying to have sex with a stranger."

"Okay gross," Dean cleared his throat, "You called me to tell me that?"

"Yes," he paused, "Well no, not exactly."

"So then why did you call, buddy?"

"I've got this feeling," he breathed out, "It's in the pit of my stomach. Just the idea of Imogen with another man-"

"Uh huh," Dean paused, "Is it kinda like a mix between anger and sadness?"

"I suppose so," Castiel said with a nod.

"That's called jealousy, my friend. And let me tell you something, it's a bitch."

"How do I make it stop?"

"Well," Dean pondered this for a moment, "I always find that punching someone helps."

"I'm not going to punch Imogen."

"No of course you're not going to punch my sister. If you did I'd have to personally kill you. That's not who I was talking about. Punching the other guy usually helps."

"That's a good idea?"

"No," Dean drug out the word, "Not a good idea at all. In fact it'll probably make things worse in the long run."

"So I shouldn't do that?"

"Probably not," he agreed, "But like I said, it always makes me feel better."

"I can't punch someone Dean. Isn't there a better way?"

"Probably, but if you're looking for good ways to deal with uncomfortable situations then you are asking the wrong guy, Cas."

"Thanks Dean," Castiel sighed as he hung up the phone. He spent a few minutes calming himself down before stepping out of the car and into the snow. The crunching of the snow beneath his boots was actually relaxing.

He did make it into the bar and immediately spotted Imogen at a billiards table, a man standing behind her and 'teaching' her how to play. The feeling had turned from a dull ache into a burning sensation so he averted his eyes and made a bee line for the bartender.

"What can I help you with?" the busty bartender asked.

"Alcohol," he stated as he sat on one of the stools, "Please."

"Uh oh," she said with a smile, "You look like you could use something strong," she pulled out a glass and poured some amber colored liquid into it before sliding it down to him, "Drink up."

Castiel nodded and picked up the glass, downing it entirely before slamming it back on the bar. He turned his head to see the man leaning over Imogen on the table, his front pressed against her back, helping her line up her shot. He shook his head and looked away. She hadn't even noticed he had walked in.

"That your girl?" the bartender asked, looking over at Imogen.

"No," he shook his head, "She's not."

She nodded knowingly, pouring him another drink, "But you want her to be."

Castiel sighed and took a sip from his glass, "Yes."

"What's stopping you?" she leaned over the bar slightly.

"She doesn't want me," he stated, "She says she's not a relationship girl."

"Do you think she has feelings for you?"

Castiel nodded, "I do think so."

"Well," she smiled at him, "Then you've got to make her realize that she has feelings for you."

"How do I do that?"

She reached out her hand and shook Castiel's, "I'm Brandy."

Castiel narrowed his eyes, "I'm Cas."

"Well, Cas. I'm going to help you get the girl. You just gotta follow my lead."

"Okay," he agreed, downing the rest of his drink.

Brady ran her hand up his arm, leaning in close to whisper in his ear, "You've just got to pretend like you're totally into me. When she sees it she'll get jealous if she's in to you."

Castiel nodded, "Okay, what should I do?"

Brady walked around the bar and had him turn around sat in his lap, lacing her arms around his neck, "You're doing great," she whispered in his ear, glancing over at Imogen and the other man. Now Imogen had noticed them.

Castiel smiled at Brandy, not taking his eyes off of her, "Is it working?" he asked.

"I think so," she smiled as Imogen walked passed them, holding the hand of the man, and heading into the bathroom, "Oh. That was quick."

Castiel looked alarmed, "It didn't work," he cried out.

"No, it totally worked," she smiled, "Now she's trying to show you up," Brandy climbed off of his lap, "Now go get her," she pushed him in the direction of the bathroom.

"Thank you," Castiel said over his shoulder and headed to the bathroom. He didn't know what was going to happen, but something was about to happen.