Constantine peered around the quarter wall at his bed. Elizabeth had been unconscious, deep in sleep, for a little over four hours. The spell he'd cast had worn off an hour before, but still she slept on. He'd done a few gentle probes, nothing deep and certainly nothing to wake her, to test for damage.

He couldn't ever remember anything he'd seen or read about someone getting into an angels' mind. A demon was easier; they were corrupted from the soul out, more on par with a human. An angel was pure, divine. It would take someone pure enough on a human level to be able to get into that space. A virgin had pulled it off.

But what was God trying to tell him? Rubbing his eye, needing sleep, Constantine decided he'd better see if anything else jumped out at him. He'd gone downstairs, into the space behind the lanes, into Beeman's old apartment. Pulled some scrolls and texts, seeking anything he could find on virgins. It was stuff he mostly already knew by proxy, stuff he'd picked up as he'd researched other cases. Nothing new. Certainly nothing that flashed like a slot machine when you hit a jackpot. He'd replaced everything to its proper place, trudged back upstairs, and found her still sleeping on his bed.

She looked good on his bed. Very good indeed.

John walked around, clicking the switch on the lamp. He'd pulled the wooden shutters before he'd gone downstairs, leaving her to sleep in the gathered darkness and safety of his apartment. It was nearly 4am now. If she had family, they might be wondering where she was.

He touched her shoulder and was hit with the psychic purity again.

"Ow! Fuck!" he snapped his hand back like he'd been burned. Elizabeth woke with a start. "Jesus, you're so pure! God damn that smarts." Constantine sucked on his fingers like he would a burn.

"I'm sorry?" she offered softly.

"I wonder if you'd burn a demon if they touched you." He attempted a joke, but she only looked at him blankly. "Feeling better?"

"How long was I asleep?"

"About four hours. I thought I'd wake you, incase someone might be looking for you."

"I live alone."

"Parents?"

"Estranged." She pushed down the blanket John had thrown over her. "Haven't spoken since I moved away at 17."

"You connected into Andrew's mind because you're a virgin." Might as well hit her with the facts off the bat. Not give her time to think on what had happened.

"What?"

"Andrew is a angel, one of what's called the Cherubim. He's down here saving the Earth, bringing home the sheep to God's arms. It's one of their jobs. He's living up to his name."

"Do you always make little sense when you talk, Mr. Constantine?" Elizabeth looked at him, one fine eyebrow arched. Her eyes burned with a crystal quality in the low light, peering into him.

"You work at the church. Must mean you believe in something."

"Just because I work there… it's a job. It pays. And sure. An angel. Right. What did you say, 'cherubim'? A baby with wings? Ok. You're just drunk, right?" she rose, searching out her shoes.

"Elizabeth. Do you believe in God?"

She stopped mid-search, slowly sitting back on the mattress. "My parents were very religious, very strict. They never would have believed their child could be flawed, given powers like a witch. It was bad enough getting them to let me have medication for depression. It got worse when I tried to use that medication to kill myself. It was a lot like the mother in that Stephen King movie. Carrie's mom. It was slowly killing me. So I left. Moved here."

"Why not Sin City?" John attempted another wisecrack, deadpan expression.

"The City of Angels just sounded better, and I wasn't legal to gamble or even drink when I left home. Why does this all matter to you?"

"Nothing really happens to me without a reason. Or so it always appears in hindsight. Maybe God's tipped His hand this time for me. But you didn't answer my question."

"I wouldn't have this gift… or whatever it is, unless God gave it to me." Elizabeth rose, her shoes in hand.

"Maybe. Maybe you're just crazy."

"I did what you wanted. I looked into Andrew's mind and I told you what was… or wasn't there." Her shoulders sagged, she seemed to age a bit before his eyes.

"Where do you live?" John stepped around to the dresser, began to dig some things out.

"Why? It's not like it matters if I'm seen here or not. I quit my job."

Constantine stopped rummaging. "What?"

"My job, the one at the church, I quit it."

"You didn't tell me that."

"When… when the emptiness started to touch me, feel me, I panicked and threw the shields back up. But by the time I'd regained focus on reality, the door to his office was open and Andrew was standing there staring at me. His eyes were blazing. So I sorta screamed my resignation and ran out before anyone could stop me. I got in a cab and didn't look back."

John nodded, digging again in the drawer. "And you knew where I lived." He cast a glance over his shoulder and found Elizabeth blushing.

"Um. Not really. I… had a premonition. It told me where you were." John nodded, putting a few things in his pockets. "What are you doing?"

"If you're going home, I'm going with you."

"Uh, what the hell do you mean?"

"You know too much now. And Andrew probably knows what you are. He wouldn't harm you; it's not an angel's prerogative or anything unless God tells them to. But at this point I can hazard a guess that you had some purpose."

"I don't understand. Do you ever make sense?"

"You need a guard. I can set up wards at your residence."

"And if I don't want you to?"

"You stay here. Where I can keep an eye on you." "So you make it through the night." He thought then realized he was dealing with a telepath. Made a mental note not to think anything around her unless he was really shielding.

"You're paying the cab fare."