Disclaimer: *Checks, just in case her every dream and wish has suddenly come true* Ulgh, nope. Still own squat.

Warnings: The yummy stuff. Possessive!Sam.

Pairings: Balcifer. Sam/Dean.

And, on a personal note; "Son of a bitch!"

Enjoy, darlings.

~Walking the Feather's Edge~

'Smoking Guns'

Well, Dean was officially bored out of his freaking mind.

Bored, and a whole fucking heap of pissed off.

It wasn't bad enough that he'd been left behind in this strange place with all of its foreign aromas and weird sounds, with its high ceiling that alluded to freedom but was in actual fact nothing more than a giant bird cage. But now he had been totally abandoned – and by his own friggin' mate of all things! Where was the justice?

Sitting on the soft dewy grass with his naked back pressed up against the scratchy, mosaic-like bark of an old elm tree, he could only watch through slitted jade eyes as Sam paraded around with a small gaggle of naked, grovelling demonesses, unwittingly flaunting a heart and body that was definitely not for sale – and Dean had his suspicions as to which of the two the she-devils were currently drooling over.

Technically – and Dean used the term very fucking loosely – Sam wasn't doing anything wrong. He maintained a respectable distance, only venturing as close to any single one of them as social etiquette allowed, he gently but firmly redirected any lingering touch or brush of the wings, and did minimal petting himself bar the occasional entwining of tails when it was offered. But at the end of the day, Sam was still a proud and dominant alpha male, and centuries of carnal instincts and animalistic urges meant he couldn't fight his natural, inbred impulses to advertise his beautiful body and physical prowess in the face of such keen interest. For every seductive arch of his impressive wingspan and flex of corded muscle that Dean knew in such intimate detail, the hybrid clenched his jaw just that little bit tighter.

Dean was (fairly) confident that he had nothing (little) to worry about. For all of his primping and showboating, Sam was completely and irrevocably devoted to his Angel. It had been quite a while since the two of them had been exposed to such a large and varied assortment of other companions, and Dean supposed he couldn't really begrudge Sam his Neanderthal-esque tendencies. If anything, he should be flattered that his mate and alpha was wielding so much attention and ardent admiration, all whilst safe in the knowledge that it was him the strutting dominant male would ultimately return to nest with.

But, unfortunately, it wasn't as simple as all that. Their mating was seriously lacking, weak and in some cases almost ineffectual, especially when measured against the strong and oftentimes palpable bond other mated pairs shared. As such, Dean wouldn't be surprised if the flock of leering demonesses currently swarming around his Sammy had any clue whatsoever that the alpha wasn't up for grabs.

Savagely plucking the head off of yet another unsuspecting dandelion, Dean crushed the soft yellow flower between white-knuckled fingers when Ruby again attempted to rub her naked body against Sam's – no doubt trying to saturate her scent onto his skin before any of the others could claim first dibs. To Dean's relief, Sam quickly cottoned on and carefully deflected her body away.

His relief was short lived however when, instead of sending the bitch packing, the moron curled his long, limber tail around Ruby's calf – the calf representing friendship, compared to the knee or higher which demonstrated intimacy – to keep her close and hinder any offence he may have caused with his rebuff. The she-bitch positively beamed at the contact, and Dean felt like scratching his own eyes out just to escape the torture.

Jesus fuck, just how naïve was Sam anyway?

"You're right to be wary, brother – that Ruby is one truly insidious snake, no doubt about it."

Dean started at the thick, southern accent that seemingly spawned out of thin air, and hurriedly scrambled to his feet. There, leaning casually against the same tree where he'd been sat mere seconds ago, one foot propped up and arms folded, was a demon male, his posture and imposing wingspan simply screaming alpha. Dean was happy to note that at least he wasn't the only one around here wearing pants of some description.

His automatic response was to ruffle up his feather's, wings flaring up in a threatening manner as he attempted to appear bigger than he actually was. The new alpha snickered in a way that got Dean's back up, like a lowly hybrid beta couldn't possibly be a threat to one such as himself, and Dean growled low in warning.

"Easy there, tiger," the alpha drawled with an easy grin, hands held up in a placating gesture of goodwill. "I ain't gonna try nuthin'. I've been watchin' you since you came in, since Ruby there got her talons deep in your little friend and ya were dumped like yesterdays trash. Figured ya could use some company, is all."

"Yeah, thanks but no thanks," Dean muttered darkly, his keen gaze keeping a close watch on every twitch and movement the alpha made. "I'm doin' just fine on my own – oh, and that 'little friend' just so happens to be my mate, so you can back off, buddy."

"Really now?" the alpha asked, glancing curiously in the direction of Sam and the baying harpies before fixing Dean with a somewhat sceptical stare. Pushing himself away from the tree, the alpha dusted himself off and extended a large hand out to Dean. "I'm afraid we might've got off on the wrong foot here… Name's Benjamin, brother, but ya can call me Benny."

Dean stared at the proffered appendage for a long and awkward moment, a frown marring his brow. Handshakes were a total human thing; angels and demons were a lot more physical with introductions – touch and smell both very important when determining status, position and strength. Hence his confusion.

The alpha, Benny, huffed out a gruff laugh. "It's just a hand, tiger; it ain't gonna bite ya."

"It's weird, is what it is," Dean grumbled but took the hand in a firm shake regardless. "And it's Dean, not 'tiger'."

Benny grinned. "Well, Dean, ya didn't seem mightily comfortable with my presence, so I figured a handshake was more appropriate than, say, an informal sniff'n'grab."

"You're not wrong there," Dean agreed with a reluctant little grin of his own. He guessed this Benny guy wasn't so bad after all… "So, Benny – what can you tell me about the Desperate Housewives over there?" At the alpha's amused quirk of the brow, Dean smirked and shrugged his shoulder. "What? Don't judge me, man, it's a good show! Even if half the time I have no freakin' clue what they're saying…"

"I didn't say a word, tiger," Benny chuckled with a good-natured grin, and maybe Dean decided to let the nickname slide this time. Scratching idly at his bearded jaw, Benny covertly pointed out each demoness vying and contending for Sam's attention. "The one with the bob, there? That's Tammi. Pretty harmless as far as they go; more sheep than shepherd, if ya catch my drift. The blonde next to her is Lilith, a real nasty piece of work – but don't worry, as much as she exhibits her interest, she's only got eyes for purebred archdemons; I'm talkin' real dark, controllin' slimeballs. Your mate couldn't hope to contend, even if he wanted to…"

Dean didn't know how to feel about that. Whilst glad that it was one less rival he had to bitch-slap back to the Stone Ages, he couldn't help but feel rather miffed. What the hell was wrong with his Sammy, huh? What, suddenly he wasn't good enough, was that it? Ha! He ought to march right on over there and show that blonde bimbo just how powerful his alpha truly was, how virile and worthy and–

"Focus, Dean," Benny commanded with a snap of his fingers, breaking Dean from his possessive stupor. Grinning when the hybrid glowered at him for the order, he carried on where he'd left off. "Now the other brunette is Meg, Ruby's closest confidant, and similarly her greatest adversary. You're gonna wanna watch those two close, 'cause when one starts sniffin' around somethin' that don't belong to 'em, then ya'd better believe the other isn't far behind. They'll chase the same game for the simple fact that they don't want the other one to have it."

Dean had a hard time wrapping his head around that one. "That… makes no sense whatsoever."

"Bitches," Benny said with a shrug, as if that single word explained everything. "They're crazy."

Dean chuckled. He was really starting to warm up to Benny; he was open and friendly, had such a deep, masculine drawl and an authoritative yet pleasant aura – not at all like most douchebag alphas he'd met in his life. If Dean hadn't already fell for and settled down with Sam, he knew for sure he'd be luring the Southern alpha into his arms and between his legs before the day was out. Benny certainly looked like he knew his way around a beta's body, those big hands and sturdy torso perfect for pinning down and manhandling unruly bedmates (not unlike himself) into whatever position he very well pleased…

…okay, new train of thought.

"So," Dean coughed, purposefully avoiding Benny's shrewd blue gaze, "how do you suppose I go about taking on four horny she-devils? You gonna back me up or what?"

"Well, goin' at them head-on sure is one way to go…" Benny conceded, rubbing contemplatively at his chin. "Though I reckon I have a much quicker solution, one pretty much guaranteed to work."

Dean perked up at that, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, yeah? Whatever it is, I'm game. I'm sick of watching 'seduction for dummies' over there."

"There's a good lad," Benny grinned, taking a bold step forward and placing his hands gently upon Dean's shoulders. The hybrid immediately tensed. "S'alright, sugar. Just relax now."

Dean could have laughed. Relax? Yeah, right. "Uh, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Benny couldn't blame the cagey beta for being so mistrusting. It wasn't every day an alpha put his hands on a beta or omega without expecting something in return. "I meant what I said before; I ain't gonna hurt ya none." Rubbing his hands down Dean's bare arms, he watched the play of emotions war across the hybrid's face as he struggled with what he should do. Hoping to make the decision easier for him, Benny pulled him a little closer. "D'ya trust me, Dean?"

Trust. Such a small and simple word, yet one loaded with tricky implications and insurmountable shades of grey…

"I know I probably shouldn't…" Dean began, his eyes pinched with guarded caution even as he relaxed a mite under the alpha's large hands. Peering up into Benny's clear, azure blue eyes, he was surprised to find nothing sinister swirling in those unfamiliar depths, only a certain kind of confidence and a sense of kinship that he hadn't felt with another companion since Sam. With a small, lopsided smile, he relaxed a touch more. "But what the hell? While the cat's away, right?"

"That's the spirit, brother," Benny grinned, and before Dean could say another word the alpha curled an arm around his waist and spread his wings, the giant limbs shadowing Dean's entire body, before one strong beat saw them rocketing from the grassy forest floor and disappearing into the thick canopy of leaves overhead.

Down below, Sam's acute hearing picked up on the distinct flap of heavy leather wings and the rustling of disturbed leaves. But, just as he was about to turn and investigate, Meg snared his attention with a clawed hand on his bicep, suddenly very curious as to the details of his lineage. Sam frowned, that niggling sensation at the back of his mind trying desperately to remind him of something, something important, but before he could dwell any further upon it Ruby was right there on his other side, the demoness fogging his mind with curiosities and complements and pheromones…

…and suddenly his higher brain functions didn't seem so important anymore.

Later that evening, in New York…

By the time Balthazar and Lucifer arrived at the Plaza Hotel it was 7:38pm and they were running nearly forty minutes late, the gala already in full swing. Cursing, Balthazar hurriedly signed them in at reception and turned to Lucifer with pleading eyes.

Oh, Lucifer knew that look all too well – and it never spelled anything good for himself.

Sighing, he gave the blonde a gentle shove toward the function room. "Go on, before you give yourself a goddamn hernia. I'll deal with the bags and the concierge and what have you…"

"Thanks, lover," Balthazar hummed with a smile, pressing a salacious kiss to the corner of Lucifer's mouth. "I'll be sure to make it up to you later tonight…"

"Oh, I'm rather sure you shall," Lucifer replied with a cheeky wink and wicked smirk. "Now, bugger off. I'll find you just as soon as I can."

With one last parting kiss, Balthazar made his way through the lobby and to the Grand Ballroom where the gala and festivities were taking place.

Upon entering – after proving to the security detail by the door that he was in fact who he claimed to be – he was immediately swept up in the buzzing atmosphere. The room was elegantly decorated, of course, and the guests were packed from front to back, gathered together in groups both large and small. The men, he noticed, were mostly congregated in the general vicinity of the bar, glasses of bourbon and single malt whiskey clutched within hands decorated with signet rings and platinum watches, and imported Cuban cigars tucked neatly into breast pockets just waiting to be sampled and savoured at a later date. The women; devoted wives, hopeful girlfriends and undoubtedly a cheeky, questionably young mistress or two, milled around in decidedly smaller groups, painted (collagen) lips sipping champagne and wine from beautiful crystal flutes, dressed in the latest Gucci and Dolce dresses, necks, wrists and ears sparkling with diamonds whilst perfectly manicured fingers clutched Prada purses close to their ample bosoms.

Snagging a glass of champagne for himself from a passing tray, Balthazar made a mental note to avoid all cliques of women at all costs – they tended to get very catty at social events like this. What is she wearing? She's sleeping with who?! Looks like someone's been piling on the pounds… Yeah, these were all topics he wished to avoid, thank you very much.

Moseying his way toward the bar, nodding politely at those he recognised from other such functions along the way, he kept a vigil eye out for any sign of the elusive Mr. Milton. He'd just ordered himself a whiskey sour when a warm and familiar hand gave him a solid clap on the back.

"Well, well… Better late than never, I suppose."

Swallowing back the first sarcastic retort that immediately popped into his head, Balthazar turned to greet the very man he'd been searching for. "Michael, good evening." There was no denying it, the man was exceedingly handsome; his tall frame, dark hair and piercing blue eyes a captivating cocktail of rugged masculinity and slick supremacy. Gripping Michael's hand, he forced a demure smile.

Shaking hands with Michael was something of a novelty for Balthazar – there wasn't an single inch of solid, fair skin on that athletic body that he hadn't traced his with his tongue or had quivering under his fingertips at one time or another, and now suddenly clasping hands seemed almost awkwardly intimate.

A novelty, indeed.

"It's good to see you again, Balthazar," Michael commented, the sincerity behind those fathomless blue eyes enough to make Balthazar uncomfortable. "It's been much too long."

"Has it?" Balthazar replied coolly, reaching for his wallet when the bartender passed him his drink. "I hadn't noticed."

Seizing the blonde's wrist, Michael threw a quick glance at the bartender. "Put that, and all subsequent drinks, on my tab."

"No," Balthazar interjected with a scowl, carefully tugging his wrist free and slapping down enough bills to cover his check. "Thank you, but I was under the impression we were here to fund the company, not me."

The young male behind the bar looked hesitant, but when Michael gave him a half-hearted shrug, he quickly picked up the money and dropped the remainder in the tip-jar upon Balthazar's request to, "Keep the change."

Stepping away from the bar, Michael took Balthazar's elbow and guided him away from prying ears. "Look, I wasn't trying to win any favours or anything, I was just–"

"Save it, darling," Balthazar cut in, twisting himself out from Michael's hold so that they were now standing face to face. "I know exactly what you were 'trying', and I will say this only once; I'm not here for any of that. I am here to listen to your proposal and contribute to the cause, nothing more." Smartly fixing his tie, he cast his stormy gaze over Michael's rigid frame in a critical onceover before turning on his heel. "Come and find me in about an hour's time. I should be sufficiently merry by then to deal with you."

And with that, Balthazar walked away, blending in with the mingling crowds and leaving Michael stood there gaping like some simpleminded fool.

A derisive chuckle from behind quickly snapped him out of it, however, and, eyes narrowing, he turned to face the culprit. "Luci," he drawled, an ugly sneer painting his lips as he straightened up to his full height. "The prodigal son finally returns – or should that be bastard son?"

"A pleasure, Mikey, as always," Lucifer droned, taking a casual sip of his champagne. "Tell me; when are you going to invest in some fresher material? Shit's gettin' real old."

"Terribly sorry. Did I hit a sore spot, little brother?" Michael replied, his grin one a Great White could be proud of.

Lucifer pursed his lips, attempting to smother a smirk as he cast his brother a cutting glance. "Not as sore as the spot I dealt you when Balthazar said 'I do', I would imagine…"

Michael clenched his fists, face contorting in barely contained rage. "You're no better than a common thief, Lucifer! Always wanting what you couldn't have; cowering beneath my shadow and biding your time, just waiting for the opportune moment to stab me in the back!"

"Well then, perhaps father should have picked a better name for me," Lucifer replied with an menacing smile. "And then maybe I wouldn't have tried to live up to my reputation."

Michael visibly bristled at that. "You leave father out of this! He was a great man–"

"Oh please, he was barely even human," Lucifer scoffed darkly. "He cared more about his wealth and public image than he ever did his own flesh and blood. If he'd paid our mother even a modicum of the fucking love and attention she deserved, then she never would have had to look elsewhere for it."

"That woman," Michael hissed, his tone dripping with more venom than a rattler, "was little more than a fucking harlot. The smartest thing father ever did was to cut her out of our lives – though why he kept you will forever be a mystery to me."

It was no mystery to Lucifer.

The man he'd grown up with, who he'd once upon a time called 'dad', was a cruel and sadistic man whose sole purpose at times seemed to be to inflict as much misery and feeling of worthlessness into Lucifer's life as humanly possible; the bastard child born to a faceless man his mother had lain with in a time of neglect and desperation.

When Mrs. Milton had announced the news of her second pregnancy, and Mr. Milton senior found out it was to be another son, they were overjoyed. Michael was four years old, and already fast learning to stand on his own two feet under his father's strict guidance; how she longed for the total dependence of a newborn babe. Her husband was simply glad that he would have two strapping lads to shape and mould, to inherit his glorious empire when he was too tired to care anymore. It was blessed news, truly.

But alas, it wasn't to last…

Mrs. Milton's betrayal soon came to light when her baby boy was born some eight months later – with a head full of downy soft strawberry-blonde locks.

Outraged and publically humiliated, Mr. Milton senior cast the 'streetwalking tramp' out onto the streets and, in a final act of spite and revenge, kept the bastard child to raise as his own. Naming the boy Lucifer as a constant reminder of the unholy sin under which he was conceived, he brought his 'son' up with a firm hand and military like discipline, leaving him to wallow in the inky shadow of Michael's greatness until the tender age of sixteen when a particularly heated argument between father and son revealed a hint of the sordid past so long ago buried and stricken from the record books.

A hint was all Lucifer had needed, though. He threw himself into his studies then, surpassing every low-hung bar and stunted expectation set out before him, so that when he turned eighteen he could stroll straight into his father's office with his head held high, college acceptance papers clutched proudly within his palm, and tell the sanctimonious prick to "fuck right off" once and for all.

He left home that very same day, and two short months later dropped the Milton name that had been weighing him down like a physical presence for too long, and instead adopting his mother's maiden name; Pellegrino.

Still, with every cloud comes a silver lining, and when Mr. Milton senior passed away from liver failure – Lucifer had warned his brother that the man was a rotten old drunk – he attended the funeral out of respect for his mother alone, and that is where he met a cocky, silver-tongued Englishman by the name of Balthazar, the love of his life and future Mr. Pellegrino.

Okay, so the foxy little blonde had technically been engaged to Michael at the time, but to Lucifer that fact was little more than an inconvenience. And besides, everybody knows it was simple sibling economics; one must always have what their brother possesses…

…and in the end, the better man won.

"You and mother are so much alike it makes me sick," Michael spat, continuing on with his tirade. "Neither happy with what you've got, with having the whole damn world laid out before your feet, so you go and take what you please elsewhere like the iniquitous whores you are."

Lucifer arched a boorish brow at that. 'Whore' was certainly a new one. "Yes, well, perhaps if you had spent a little less time riding along on daddy's coattails and forging an empire, and a little more time at home satisfying your man, then we'd be having a much different conversation right now."

Michael's blue eyes were blazing with contempt. "You are an arrogant asshole, Lucifer."

"And you are a conceited fool, Michael," Lucifer easily returned. "Now, if you'll please excuse me, I have a husband to attend to…"

Before Lucifer could take even a single step, Michael's usually ironclad control over his temper snapped and he lunged forward, fisting a hand in his younger brother's lapel and whirling the man around to face him.

"You always have to have the last word, don't ya, Luci?" he seethed, eyes narrowed to slits and jaw working an awful tick. "I loathe you, baby brother. From the very moment our slut of a mother brought you screaming into this world my life has gone from bad to worse to Hell… The fact that we share the same blood makes my skin crawl. You might have Balthazar now, but make no mistake, you will pay for every wrong you have slighted me since the second you drew your first breath. Mark my words, Luci…"

Lucifer, as calm and collected as ever, like he didn't have a raving psychopath spitting words of cruelty and acid in his face, firmly removed Michael's hand from his person, his gaze as cold and deadly as his tone.

"Restrain yourself, brother – you're creating a scene." Sure enough, a handful of guests had stealthily inclined their bodies and attentions toward the duo, hoping to catch even a snippet of the conversation to rekindle the gossip mills later on, no doubt. Rolling his shoulders, Michael straightened himself up and took a respectable step back, calling a truce in the name of appearance – for now, at least.

"This isn't over," Michael warned him as Lucifer nonchalantly righted the creases in his shirt. "Not by a long shot."

Lucifer wasn't the least bit perturbed by the alleged threat, having heard the same spiel more times than he could possibly count throughout the course of his life by this stage. Disregarding the barb completely, he levelled his brother with a penetrating stare.

"I would watch your tone, big brother," he cautioned, his tone chillingly caustic. "You're beginning to sound just like father."

Michael had no biting comeback to that, knowing that Lucifer thinking of him on his father's level was about as low a blow as they came.

Lucifer chose that moment to leave, aware that if he stood in brother's company even a second longer they would both do something they would live to regret, and instead pushed himself through the sea of nameless faces in search of the shining ray of warmth in his otherwise cold and miserable existence. When he spotted Balthazar not far from where the stage and podium had been set up, talking to a svelte brunette woman with more jewellery than sense apparently, he could swear that his heart melted just a tad.

Oh, yes – he was most definitely the better man.

A few hours previous, at Eden…

"…and ever since then we've all lived together up in Boston. It's been pretty great, I guess."

Dean was regaling Benny with the story of his life, or the highlights at any rate. They were sat high up in the canopy near the rear of the dome, kicking back on a thick tree limb; Dean inclined forward and sitting cross legged whilst Benny sat close behind, gently grooming the kinks and knots from the hybrid's soft, smoky feathers. Having lived with Sam for so long, Dean had forgotten just how awesome social grooming could be – having someone pamper and fuss over you without the expectation of something in return. Of course, returning the favour was considered only polite, part of the etiquette as it were, but it wasn't necessarily a prerequisite.

For such big, strong hands, Benny was surprisingly gentle. Dean was hard pressed to keep his purring at bay. Talk about embarrassing…

"It sure is strange," Benny commented as diligent fingers untangled a particularly fussy mesh. "You say you and Sam have been mated, what, two years now?"

Dean nodded. "There abouts."

"And yet, it ain't easy to tell…" When Dean tensed, he was quick to mollify. "Easy. I don't mean no offence, tiger. I was just sayin' that, well, ya don't smell much like any alpha's gone and claimed ya. Ya bear no marks, no sigils, no scent…"

"Hybrid, remember?" Dean answered with a shrug. "I don't have any sigils because it's the demon side of me that reacts to Sam. As for the marks and scent; I guess I just don't have enough juice to hold them, you know? Doesn't really matter how often we renew them, they never stick around for long."

A troubled frown graced Benny's lips then, his hands falling away. "Huh. That sure sucks, brother. No wonder Ruby and the rest of the Pink Ladies have been pawin' all over your mate." When Dean cocked a brow at him from over his shoulder, Benny merely flashed him an impish grin. "What? You're not the only one who watches crappy human entertainment. Which reminds me; be sure and keep a look out for Dr. Sexy M.D. – I reckon ya'd like it."

Dean made a mental note of the name. "Will do. Thanks, bro."

Smiling at the endearment, Benny got back to work. "So, you and Sam… ya thought about rearin' any little critters? Might be a more effective way of advertisin' your claim on one another?"

Dean went ramrod stiff at the mention of 'little critters', choking down the sudden lump in his throat as his feather's shuddered without his consent. Benny instantly picked up on the abrupt plummet in mood, and knew he'd gone and royally shoved his foot in it.

"Ah, Jesus, tiger… I didn't mean to bring up nuthin' painful."

"Naw, it's fine," Dean hastily reassured, though his voice wavered slightly. "I mean, we've been tryin' and all… Just haven't reaped any rewards yet."

Benny rubbed his shoulders in soothing circles. "I'm sorry, brother."

"Don't even worry about it, man. It's not like it's the end of the world or anything, right?" Dean gave a hollow chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he repositioned himself to face the Southern alpha, suddenly very uncomfortable with being touched in any way. "But hey, that's more than enough about me! I've been yammerin' away like a freakin' chick at prime time. Tell me about you."

Benny bobbed his head, more than happy to move the conversation along after his grievous faux pas. "There ain't much to tell, really… More or less the same old routine every day here; nothing much ever changes. Same faces, same food, same old dome… Not exactly exhilaratin'."

"Wait, wait, wait…" Dean frowned, holding a hand up. "Do you–? How long have you been here?"

Benny scratched his chin, mulling. "Precisely? I've lost count. But I'd wager it's got'a be close to five years by now."

"Five years?" Dean gaped, jade eyes wide with disbelief. "Don't you have a home? A family?"

"I did, once upon a time," Benny answered evenly.

"But, what–? I mean, why–? How can you–?" Dean took a measured breath to try and calm the mass of different thoughts currently whirring through his head at the speed of light. For his part, Benny just looked amused. "What the hell happened?" he finally landed on.

Benny gave a snort of laughter at the blunt question and leaned back, supporting his weight on his hands behind him as he settled in for the long haul.

"I was born and raised in Louisiana, spent my fledgling years with the Lafitte family. I was always closest to the youngest daughter, Katie, followed her everywhere; through school, then on to college, and eventually when she moved out and got her first apartment." Benny smiled to himself, remembering the long, hot summer days and biting winter nights he'd spent with his human in their pokey little home. It had a leaky ceiling in the bathroom, the air con was always on the fritz, and the plumbing was loud enough to wake the dead; but it was theirs, their own 'little slice of heaven' as Katie would always say. They had both been very content, until… "That's when she met a handsome young man, Thomas Cassidy, and, well – I ain't ever seen her so happy, tiger. She was all smiles, all the time."

"So, what happened?" Dean pried, body inclined forward, completely enthralled with the tale.

Benny just had to chuckle at the hybrid's enthusiasm. "Well, Thomas had only been down south on business, and after two weeks had to return home to Manhattan. Katie fell so hard, and it broke my heart to see her in pain – so when Thomas asked her to come back with him, we didn't think twice. We packed up our lives and left everything we had ever known behind… And that's when it all went down the gutter."

"What, did Thomas turn out to be a real dick or something?"

"Not at all. Thomas was a perfect gentlemen, always treated Katie right. It had less to do with the humans and more to do with me. Or rather, me and Cassidy's companion."

"Oh…" Dean breathed in sudden comprehension. "Shit."

"You can say that again, brother," Benny concurred, eyes dark as he lost himself in the memories of years past. "Thomas owned an alpha archangel, Uriel; a real piece'a work. He was on my back from the second our eyes first met; he couldn't abide me encroaching upon his space, and it was clear he wanted me gone. Our constant fighting and bickering was puttin' strain not only on the two of us, but also our humans. Katie was so damn upset, and it was all my fault… I tried to reign it in, to just get on with it and ignore him, for Katie's sake if nothing else – but I couldn't help it! That self-righteous bird was purposefully rubbin' me up all the wrong ways." Taking a moment to compose himself, Benny slouched forward, arms folded in his lap and a look of utter defeat clouding his eyes. "Eventually it was too much. We were out for blood, and one of us had to go…"

"And they chose you?" Dean growled, outraged at the sheer stupidity of the decision. "That's fucking bullshit, man! At least you tried, for Katie…"

"But isn't that exactly the point?" Benny argued with a bittersweet smile. "When all was said and done, it was still Uriel's home. It's only logical that I should be the one to leave. And besides all that, I loved Katie. I would do anythin' if it ensured her happiness… even when it means havin' to say goodbye."

"That freakin' blows, bro," Dean sympathised, unable to accurately comprehend just how soul-destroying it would feel to be abandoned by Balthazar. The thought was enough to make him queasy. "So she just dropped you off here, just like that? Wham, bam, thank you ma'am?"

Benny scrubbed a hand over his face, laughing ruefully at the hybrid's crass phrasing. "She visited for a while, would call by every week or so. Then it was every few weeks, then once a month… Finally it dwindled down to every few months, and then, well, she stopped comin' altogether."

"That's so fucking unfair!" Dean exclaimed, hands gesticulating wildly. "How can you be so… okay with that?"

"Five years is a long time to come to terms with heartache, tiger," Benny shrugged coolly. Sure, it still hurt to think or even talk about, but the wound was healing nicely. "Besides, last I saw her she had a real nice diamond on her finger and a belly swollen with child – how could I possibly resent her anythin' when it's clear that she's loved and well provided for? Love can't always be selfish, you know…"

"I don't know how you do it, man," Dean shook his head in disbelief. "If I was ever dumped off like a two-bit hooker, you'd better believe I'd pitch a bitchfit of freakin' epic proportions!"

"I don't doubt it for a second, tiger," Benny grinned, stretching his arms high above his head and peering up at the position of the sun through the spattering of leaves. "Hmm, should be around dinner time by now. Ya hungry, brother?"

"Starved," Dean answered now that he stopped to think about it. "They got anythin' good in this joint? 'Cause I could murder a bacon cheeseburger right about now."

Shaking his head in mirth, Benny gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry, but we ain't got nuthin' like that. Just fruits, salads and red meats, I'm afraid."

"Ulgh, rabbit food," Dean groaned in distaste, falling back dramatically against the tree branch. "Sounds like just the sort of thing that Sa–"

"Dean!"

Dean blinked, instantly recognising the cry of alarm to be that of his alpha. Huh, speak of the devil…

He was just about to sit up and call back, perhaps let his neglectful mate stew for a few minutes longer, when he was suddenly trailed to his feet and pushed back, a large, solid body barricading itself between him and Benny. Sam growled, a deep, aggressive rumble low in his chest, his wings spread high and wide in a show of dominance and his every muscle coiled and ready to snap into action. Dean couldn't remember a time his mate was so visibly livid, his alpha nature shorting out his more logical brain functions and turning him into a savage, snarling beast – and by fuck was it a huge turn on.

"What the hell is going on here?" the incensed Sam demanded, his leathery wings vibrating in agitation and eyes a bottomless obsidian. "Who the fuck are you?"

Whilst expecting the hostile reaction – it had been his plan all along, after all – Benny still maintained the presence of mind to hold his ground, his own wings flaring up in answer to the threat before him.

"The name's Benny, brother," he stated calmly, wanting to avoid any physical altercation if he could help it. He knew the risks of his little scheme, but didn't want to upset Dean any. "You can relax; I mean no harm."

"Don't tell me what to do," Sam snarled, his arm holding back a struggling Dean as he eyed the rival alpha in front of him. "And I am not your brother." He spat the word out like it was acid upon his tongue. "You have five seconds to explain what you were doing up here alone with my mate, and if I don't like the answer then I'm going to rip you to shreds…"

"Chill the fuck out, Sammy," Dean protested from behind, his feather's ruffled up in anxiety. "It wasn't Benny's fault, we were just–"

"Enough, Dean!" Sam barked, fixing his mate with a hollow glare and twitching imperceptibly when his collar administered a nasty shock for the spike in testosterone. "I'll deal with you in a minute." Turning back to Benny, he bore his teeth in a snarl. "Well?"

"He was lonely," Benny answered simply, watching with a note of satisfaction when Sam frowned. "You were too busy gallivantin' around with Ruby and her merry band of misfits to notice that your own mate was left behind in the dirt. He was pretty upset, so I brought him up here to take his mind off it; nothing more, nothing less."

Sam faltered for a moment, his eyes bleeding back to hazel, before he pulled Dean close to his side and sneered. "What I do with my mate is none of your concern. Next time back the fuck off, or I won't be so lenient."

Before Benny had the chance to rebuttal, Sam spread his wings and took off, an avidly objecting Dean tucked in close to his chest. Benny snorted and scratched his head, quickly losing sight of the duo in the thicket of trees and branches and leaves.

Grinning to no one but himself, he gave a small salute. "Guess I'll catch up with you later then, tiger…"

"Sam! Seriously, dude, what the actual fuck? Put me down, dammit!"

With a burst of adrenaline, Dean finally managed to wriggle free from Sam's steel-like arms. Unfortunately, they were still up in mid-air and the hybrid, unable to right himself in time, crash landed into small cluster of shrubbery. Swearing eloquently under his breath, Sam swooped down just as Dean was clambering free.

"Shit, that hurt," Dean grumbled as he brushed himself free of dirt and shook the broken twigs from his wings. Fisting his hands on his hips, he glared at his mate. "What the hell was that back there, Sam? You were acting like a real douche, you know that, right?"

"I don't care how I was acting, Dean!" Sam retorted harshly, his brows knotted in a deep scowl. "What I want to know is what you were doing with that other alpha!"

"Hey," Dean growled, taking both Sam and himself by surprise with the intensity of it. "Benny's a nice guy! He was there when you weren't!"

"It doesn't matter where I was – I could be on the fucking moon, Dean, but that doesn't give you the right to go and do as you please with some other alpha that I don't even know! He could have hurt you and I wouldn't have been there to protect you!"

Dean snorted. "Well maybe if you had been payin' even a lick of attention to me instead of Ruby and those fucking sluts you might have noticed that I was gone…"

"It doesn't work like that, Dean, and you know it," Sam stated coldly, taking an ominous step toward the hybrid. "I am the alpha here; you obey me." Hooking a finger over the lip of Dean's collar, he tugged his angel flush against his body, relishing in the skin-on-skin contact after everything that had happened. Dipping his head, he growled lowly in Dean's ear, "Your body belongs to me, Angel. No one else is allowed to lay a single finger upon it without my express permission – do I make myself clear?"

Dean's entire being was shivering with every word of possession and authority breathed against his ear, the slow burn of arousal stirring low in his belly. His wings and body had long since gone lax, his tongue too heavy and throat too dry to form anything even remotely literate. All he could do was draw shallow breaths and nod, the weight of his alpha's dominance and the heady taste of his pheromones turning him into a soft and pliable mess to be shaped as Sam saw fit.

"Such a good bitch," Sam crooned, pleased with his beta's easy submission. Guiding Dean to lay down upon the grassy floor, the excited alpha quickly stripped the hybrid of his jeans, nose buried in the creamy skin of his throat and long, sinuous body draped protectively over Dean's smaller frame. "Mmm, I'm sorry if I frightened you before, beloved. Sometimes you drive me to the edge of madness and I just lose my mind." Licking a sensual stripe across Dean's racing pulse, he purred contentedly at the sweet taste and gently rocked his hips, taking great pleasure in the gasping moan he elicited from his mate. "I can't help myself around you, Dean. Always wanna fight for you, provide for you, care for you, love you…"

Dean threw his head back with a loud whimper when Sam accentuated his last words with a firm thrust against his throbbing sex, his eyelashes fanning against his cheeks as he panted for breath. "S-Stop, Sammy… We shouldn't do this; not here."

Sam wasn't overly fond of that suggestion, and so chose to ignore it. "Why not?" he asked, nipping lightly at Dean's shoulders, his hips still working at a steady rhythm. Smirking at the hybrid's obviously waning resistance when creamy thighs fell open wider, he tugged on Dean's earlobe with his teeth. "What's the matter, Angel? Don't you want to take your alpha's cock?"

"Sam…" Dean moaned, eyes fluttering shut and insides slicking in anticipation.

Sam grinned wickedly, the smell of his angel's arousal overwhelming his senses. "That's it, baby," he purred in encouragement, his large hands gripping Dean's thighs and pulling them around his waist. "You can't ever deny me, Angel. Your body was made to take me." Slipping a hand down to the panting hybrid's entrance, he growled at the wetness he found there, sliding two fingers into the quivering hole and watching with hooded eyes as Dean squirmed. "So wet and eager for me, love. Feel that, Dean? Your hole is devouring my fingers, practically begging for something much larger to satisfy its greed…"

"Holy fuck. Sammy…" Dean's mind was swiftly fogging over with lust, his legs gripping Sam's waist tight as his hands scrabbled at the soft earth above his head. Prying his eyes open with great difficulty, he gazed up at the burning hazel eyes silently surveying him. "The o-others," he gasped on a stuttered breath, jade eyes dark and glossing over with desire. "They're watching…"

Sam's eyes flickered to black, his wings erupting out to cast an inky shadow over his mewling mate. "So let them watch," he growled, rearing back onto his knees and hauling Dean's perky rump into his lap, the hybrid hissing agitatedly as his wings are dragged across the ground. "I want everybody here to know exactly who it is you belong to, Dean. Want them to hear you scream my name in ecstasy, to taste your arousal in the air, to see you writhing on the end of my cock, and know that I am the only one who can make you lose control like that." Wrapping Dean's legs around his hips, he lined up his large and heavily engorged sex with his mate's leaking entrance. "Come on, Angel – let's give them a show."

With one brutal thrust, Sam rammed home, his pelvis smacking against Dean's ass as the hybrid's back arched high off the ground and he cried out in rapture for the whole damn compound to hear. Their pace was fast and punishing; a clear demonstration of Sam's ownership and Dean's devotion, and the gathered companions looked on with mixed receptions of lust, jealousy and awe.

Unbeknownst to most, mated pairs within the sanctuary were given collars that were slightly altered. Whereas the unmated companions would have been sedated long before now to stave off any unwanted advances and/or unplanned pregnancies during their stay, those in bonded unions were permitted to be intimate, the collar allowing for erratic influxes of sexual hormones and endorphins to be released without any harm or interruptions. Fighting was still not permitted under any circumstances, and the collar would tranquillise any companion who tried it, mated or not, but Chuck didn't see the point in attempting to stall any bonded mates from copulating at their own leisure – not when they would only become increasingly frustrated and likely injure themselves trying to do as their natural instincts dictated.

If Sam had been aware of this little fact, he would have thanked the bedraggled, twitchy human man, but as it was he simply manhandled Dean up into his lap, the hybrid's arms curling tight around his neck and legs splaying over his spread thighs.

"Oh, Sam," Dean moaned at the new angle, his fingers curling into the demon's luscious locks and tugging hard when Sam's powerful cock nestled up neatly against his prostate with every thrust. "Shit, don't stop! Don't ever fucking stop!"

"Never, Angel," Sam growled, his bat-like wings easily enveloping Dean's body. Just because he wanted his claim witnessed, didn't mean he wanted dozens of ogling eyes looking at his property – and certainly not when he was fucking naked. "So beautiful, Dean. So fucking perfect. Never have to worry, beloved – there ain't no one in the world I want more than you. Always you, Angel. Always."

Dean purred seductively at his alpha's declaration of love and possession, his hands fisting in Sam's hair and knees gripping his hips as he ground himself down against the alpha's every toe-curling thrust. Slitting his eyes open, he caught sight of Ruby and Meg from over Sam's shoulder, the two demonesses hanging around not fifteen feet away. Flashing them a shit-eating smirk, he swooped down and kissed Sam full and filthy on the mouth, his eyes never once leaving the stewing she-devils as Sam cupped his neck and practically shoved his tongue down Dean's throat.

When they broke apart for desperate breaths, Dean pinned Sam's shoulders to the ground and rode his alpha like a bucking bronco, his head tossed back and palms flat against the demon's rippling pectorals. Sam's hands came up to grip and guide his pumping hips, claws scratching against supple skin and lending a hint of pain to the otherwise blinding pleasure.

Dean couldn't be sure when exactly they left, but when he next opened his eyes both Ruby and Meg were gone. Grinning in triumph, he leaned down to lap sensually at the corner of Sam's mouth, his chest rumbling with a blissful little purr.

"I'm ready, Sammy," he breathed hotly into his mate's ear. "Come on, alpha… split me open and finish me off; make me scream, just like you promised."

Growling at the hybrid's sultry words, Sam cupped the back of Dean's left knee and expertly flipped their positions, driving into his mate's abused hole with every ounce of strength and stamina he possessed. Dean positively keened at the rough and frantic pace, Sam fucking into him with deadly precision as heat coiled low in his belly and he thrashed on the soft, grassy earth.

His climax hit him with the force of a sledgehammer, seemingly ripped from the core of his very soul, his back bowing and body shuddering with pleasurable tremors as he came hard and fast between their sweat-slick bodies. Sam growled in rapture as his mate reached completion, hips pistoning in deep, heavy thrusts until the tight, quivering insides of Dean's hole proved too stimulating and he too lost himself in euphoria, his sharp teeth biting down hard on his angel's neck as he was milked for all his worth.

Mewling in contentment as Sam's seed flooded his insides with a familiar and sticky warmth, Dean sagged back against the grass, his body boneless and skin glowing with the kind of profound satisfaction that only his Sammy could provide. Sam eased himself atop his smiling mate, bodies still joined together and heart swelling with pride at the sated fulfilment radiating from Dean's every pore.

"Feel better, my love?" Sam asked, smiling softly as he stroked a thumb over Dean's flushed cheek.

"Infinitely," Dean chuckled, his fingertips tickling down Sam's spine in a loving caress.

"Good," Sam beamed, tail swishing happily as he dipped down to press a doting kiss to Dean's lust-swollen lips. "I trust you won't be running off with any more strange alphas from now on?"

"No more strange alphas," Dean promised with a nod, though that rascally little grin made Sam wary. "Just Benny."

Sam curled his lip. "Dean…"

"What?" Dean asked, eyes wide and innocent. "Benny's not a threat to you, and he's no longer a stranger. And besides, we're only gonna be here 'til tomorrow. Where's the harm?"

Sam didn't look convinced, but he supposed he saw the logic in his beta's argument. "Okay, fine. But you're only to talk to him when I'm around – where I can see you, Dean."

"That's cool with me," Dean grinned, awarding his dominating alpha a steamy kiss. "Now, you wanna move your fat ass? I'm absolutely starving. We were gonna go grab some grub before you went all psycho-alpha on my ass. Literally."

"Didn't hear you complaining," Sam grumbled as he carefully pulled his now flaccid cock free from Dean's loosened hole. Standing up, he shook himself out and glanced around the small clearing they had landed in. Noting several pairs of curious eyes staring shamelessly right back, he hauled Dean up and into a fierce kiss, one hand gripping the back of his neck whilst the other cupped a shapely ass-cheek. When he drew back, Dean whining in protest, he frowned down at the state of his mate's undress. "Put your pants back on before you go anywhere."

Dean could only laugh at the evident jealousy saturated in Sam's tone, the demon utilising his large wings to shield his modesty as he bent to scoop up his dirty jeans and quickly throw them back on.

Clapping his hands and rubbing them together, Dean gave his trademark grin. "Let's go, Sammy – before all the good stuff is gone."

Sam rolled his eyes but smiled all the same, throwing an arm around Dean's shoulders as they made their way out of the forest and toward the compound where they would be serving dinner, the mated pair grinning like the lovesick fools they were.

Elsewhere, Benny was leaning back against the sturdy trunk of an ageing oak, a small grin of his own painting his lips. "Way to go, tiger," he mused quietly to himself before spreading his wings and vanishing into the canopy.

A/N: Well, how d'ya like them apples? Two updates in as many days. I had a few days off work there, and inspiration was hitting me hard, so it wasn't hard to lose myself in writing for a while. God, it felt so good, too.

Okay, so we got a little bit of everything in this instalment, ne? Some Balthie and Luci, some Sam and Dean, and even some Mikey and Benny! I loved writing Michael and Lucifer's little altercation - the way I see it; Michael is the 'good soldier', following Daddy's teachings to the letter and trying to fill footsteps that will always be too large. Whereas Lucifer is the outcast, the illegitimate son with a dark and twisted childhood but who could better see the light for the fact. Lucifer will always care for Michael, in spite of his brother's betrayal, whereas Michael is too blinded by his own corruption to see the love that he holds for his kin. So beautiful and bittersweet...

Again, as per the request of LeeMarieJack, Dean got someone to console in whilst Sam was dangling from Ruby's puppet-strings, and Sam went all postal just as soon as he found out. I like Benny and Ruby, and will hopefully find some credible way to bring them back later on. I would also like to incorporate Gabriel at some point, too - 'cause, let's face it, who doesn't love that sweet-sucking trickster? (:

As usual, any suggestions; lay 'em on me.

I really hope y'all enjoy. Feel free to drop me a line, and peace out for now!

FMV