Chapter 1 - Heaven's Gate

Vincent had Barnabas mix up the strongest cocktail he had, and when it was ready, the bartender poured it slowly and reverently into the skull. Young MacKenzie would have been astonished at just how close he had come to predicting the procedure with his made-up phrase.

"Leave," Vincent instructed the bartender. "Go back to the cottage, and wait for me there."

Barnabas took his leave immediately. He knew better than to argue.

Vincent carried the drink carefully over to the dark booth in the corner. He placed it on the table, and then sat there, looking down at it. Finally, his vision was about to come. He took a deep breath, then lifted the skull with both hands and drank the potion down.

He closed his eyes, and eventually, he saw himself walking on the beach. It was a clear but starless night, and as he looked up at the pitch-black sky, he saw something written in capital letters, in flames: "THE BOOK OF COMING FORTH". Vincent grinned. Now he was getting somewhere.

He walked on down the beach, and the sands began to shift, building themselves into a giant pyramid. He walked inside, and to his surprise, there were a group of people already standing there, as if they had been waiting for him. There was Castiel, looking at Vincent dispassionately. Abigail was standing beside him, regarding Vincent with her big cow eyes. How he hated that expression. Maybe he would just kill her, when he got back to the States. It wasn't as if he needed her for anything anymore, anyway. She had done her job, by mothering Gail. Gail was here too, of course, and she was staring openly at Vincent with an expression of frank speculation. What a revelation SHE had turned out to be. Vincent hadn't thought too much of his daughter in her younger years. She'd been too soft, too introverted for his liking. So he'd screwed with her and set Crowley on her, just to see what would happen. It hadn't been monsters who had mortally wounded Frank's father that night, it had been Vincent, wearing a disguise. He'd correctly assumed that Christina would seek a crossroads deal to bring her husband back, thereby bringing the King of Hell into their home, and into their lives. It was amazing how easily people who had consciences and feelings for others could be manipulated. That was one thing that Vincent had over all of his enemies. He had no sentiment whatsoever; therefore, there was nothing for anyone to hang over his head. Castiel could offer to torture or kill anyone who was even remotely connected to Vincent, and he wouldn't bat an eye. The only reason Vincent sired children, the ONLY reason, was to ensure his own continued survival. JD's murder had hurt Vincent physically, putting that black mark on his face, but that had only been because he had been one of the designates. A pure killing machine that his father had sent into the bosom of the God Squad to do a little slicing and dicing. But it hadn't worked out that way. Gail had seen to that. Vincent respected his daughter one hell of a lot more these days, but the first thing he was going to do when he got his hands on the Book of the Dead was kill her, and then turn her over to his side. It was becoming really inconvenient that she was an Angel, and Vincent knew that she would never leave Castiel on her own. Maybe it would be easier for Vincent to manipulate her now that her Exalted husband wasn't God any more, though. Now that Castiel had voluntarily given up his Godly powers, he was a little more vulnerable. Perhaps Vincent could take advantage of that. He still firmly believed that Gail was able to be lured to the so-called "dark side". You could see the signs. All she needed was the right carrot. The proper incentive.

The Winchesters were here in his vision too, of course, because they were always around. Vincent had really been hoping that one or the other, or even both, would have drowned in that tropical storm, but no such luck. They had called on their God, Bobby Singer, to rescue them. They were here in his vision, looking tall and strong, but Vincent knew their greatest weakness was their love for each other, and for their family. But the brothers shouldn't be too much of a threat to Vincent. When his Army of the Undead roamed the earth, the brothers would have their hands full, anyway.

"Is everyone ready for the tour?" a man asked the group, and Vincent was bemused to see that the tour guide was his brother, Oliver. He grinned. Maybe now that Oliver had been able to escape the surly bonds of Earth, he was on a higher plane of understanding.

"Wait for me," a young black man said, appearing out of nowhere. "I haven't had much to do for Heaven lately, but I wouldn't miss this for the world."

"What do you have to do with this, Paul?" Gail asked the young Angel.

"I don't know," he answered her honestly. "Just showed up to take the tour, like everybody else."

Vincent's eyes narrowed. He could tell that the young guy was an Angel, but Vincent was getting a different vibe from him too, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Are we ready to start the tour now?" Cas said, annoyed. "I'm quite anxious to find out where the Book of the Dead is located."

"Yeah, I'll just bet you are," Vincent said, sneering at him. "But this is my vision, not yours. Get to the back of the line."

Cas said something softly in Enochian, but he made no move to accost Gail's father. Vincent grinned again. "Someday, we'll all look back on this and laugh," he said to Vision Cas. "You are part of my family, after all."

Cas said something else in Enochian, and this time, he spoke sharply enough to make Vincent look into his eyes. Had Gail's husband just sworn at him, in the ancient language? Maybe Vincent should rethink killing Castiel; at least, not right away, anyway. He was simply too much fun.

They all fell behind Oliver, who led the way through the narrow passages of the tomb. The group passed Crowley, who was standing casually in a dark corner. His eyes moved over everyone as they passed by. Vincent was glad to see that Raguel hadn't been able to kill his son. How embarrassing that would have been. Besides, Crowley was a perfect arch-enemy for Castiel. A thorn in the Angel's side, to say the very least. But again, Vincent really had no personal stake in who lived and who died, even among his own family. He just enjoyed seeing certain matchups.

Oh, look. There was the current God, Bobby Singer. He was standing in the opposite corner from where Crowley stood, fittingly enough. He looked at Vincent with narrowed eyes. The two of them had not yet formally met, but Vincent was thinking now that he had been remiss in not making Bobby's acquaintance.

Cas had taken Gail's hand, and he was helping her up and over a waist-high barrier that had suddenly appeared, on the way to the next chamber. Awww. How sweet. Vincent wondered about those two, sometimes. By all accounts, his daughter was a fierce warrior these days, and a staunch feminist. Castiel was one of the oldest beings in Creation, old-fashioned and chivalrous. But he was also from the era where women were to be seen and not heard from. How did the two of them resolve that dichotomy?

Vincent rolled his eyes. If the Angels got the Books, they would probably just let them go to waste. Lock them up in Heaven until the pages grew sallow and mouldy, just like all of the Angels would be, if Raguel were to get his way and rule Heaven. And Vincent wouldn't even particularly mind if Ammit wanted to carve out her own little gynocracy. But he knew that she wouldn't be content to just leave it at that, and that was unacceptable to him.

But neither Raguel or Ammit were here now, Vincent was, and as he stepped into the chamber where the huge sarcophagus was, he could see a man with a sandy beard, furiously writing with a quill pen on a scrap of papyrus. Probably just recording the events for posterity. Seemed like a good idea to Vincent. This was going to be epic. Curious, though: there was another man, looking over the bearded man's shoulder as he wrote. The bearded man didn't seem to be aware of the man's presence, though.

The Winchester brothers were looking at the sarcophagus, making pop culture references to the movies, and Gail was laughing. Vincent's daughter had come a long way, but in his opinion, her heart was still far too tender. Maybe he should just kill the Winchesters, right now. That might slow her roll a little.

"Hey, Vince. What's happening?"

Vincent was startled to see a man of average height leaning against the wall of the chamber, smirking at him. "It's Vincent," he said darkly.

"'It's Vincent'," Gabriel mocked him in a childish tone. "So, you think you're gonna be the Zombie King, do you? What the hell's the point of THAT? What's your endgame, Vincent? Really?"

"Who are you?" Vincent asked him, mystified.

"Never you mind," Gabe said insolently. "Look, Vince, I'm all for a good time, but I can't let you hurt my family. Just so you know."

Gail's father laughed derisively. "You? Who are YOU to tell me what to do?"

"Me? I'm an Archangel," Gabriel told him. "And not the flaccid kind either, not like Raguel." His eyes flashed purple, and his wings sprouted out of his back, spreading themselves wide.

"Step right up, and see the Pyramid Texts," Oliver said to the group. He creaked open the sarcophagus lid, taking out a scroll of papyrus. "One-half of the Book of the Dead."

"What?!" Vincent exclaimed loudly, and his voice echoed off the walls of the tomb.

Oliver smiled. "I thought you would know that, Vincent, seeing as death is a sort of hobby of yours. There are two halves to the Book of the Dead: The Pyramid Texts, and the Coffin Texts. The Pyramid Texts can be used to re-animate bodies. There are Utterances, or spells, as you would call them, to recite, to rise people from their tombs." Now Oliver was speaking to the entire group, who were all listening attentively. "Or, rise people from their graves, as the case may be," Oliver continued affably. "The Coffin Texts are both simpler, and more complex. Simpler, in that the Utterances are shorter, but more complex, in that the deceased can only access the Afterlife if they negotiate a series of obstacles guarded by terrifying supernatural creatures. And, conversely, that's the only way they can get out. The monsters are humans with the heads of animals, or combinations of different ferocious beasts, and they are armed with very big, very sharp knives. Colloquially speaking, their names are things like 'He who lives in snakes', or 'He who dances on blood'. Sounds like you, big brother," he said to Vincent. Then he smiled. "But, there are people here in this very tomb who could run that gauntlet quite easily, aren't there?" Oliver looked at the Winchester brothers, and at Castiel and Gail.

"Who made you Indiana Jones, all of a sudden?" Vincent said to Oliver in an angry tone. "How do YOU know so much about this?"

"I've spent a lot of time in the Afterlife, now," Oliver said calmly, shrugging. "You pick up stuff." He looked at the assembled group again. "There's a spell that has to be done to find the Pyramid Texts. It was originally written on the walls of the Pyramid of Unas, who was the last King of the 5th Dynasty, in mid-24th Century, BC."

"You're talking about Saqqara," Gabriel said, perking up. He came away from the wall, looking at Oliver with interest.

"Yes, I am," Oliver said, looking pleased. "You know it?"

Gabe and Castiel exchanged glances. "Very well," Gabriel said. Then he made a face. "So does the guy who's lurking in the dark corner, pretending we can't see him. We know you're there, Crowley. Talk to Hakeem, if your memories are a little rusty. I'm sure his aren't."

"What are you talking about?" Gail asked Gabriel curiously.

"Saqqara's an ancient burial ground in Egypt," the Archangel told her.

"But, the Pyramid of Unas is no more," Castiel said, puzzled.

"Then we'll just have to go back, and write down the spell," Gabriel said, as if the answer were obvious. He smiled down at Gail. "How about it, Kitten? Haven't you always wanted to see Arabian Nights, for reals? I think Castiel would love to see you in a belly dancing outfit."

"Hold it," Vincent said, astonished. "Hold it, just a damn minute. This is my vision. Mine. Not any of yours. I drank from the skull, not any of you."

Dean grinned. "Yeah, but you didn't drink from Blackbeard's skull, dickwad." Gabriel reached out to Dean and high-fived him smartly, with only a minimum of jealousy that he hadn't thought to call Vincent by that name first. "You drank from a Hallowe'en prop. When one of the young guys who works at the maritime museum was cleaning the chest to put it on display, he accidentally tripped the false bottom. He found the real skull in there, and he took it. But then he started to feel weird about it, so he bought a two-dollar skull decoration and put it in the chest to replace the real thing. You drank out of a cheap-ass, dollar-store, bargain bin skull. Enjoy your hangover."

Vincent's eyes snapped open. This was unbelievable. It was impossible! He picked up the skull and examined it closely. How could this be? He turned it over in his hands, looking at the bottom, where there was an inscription: "Made In China".

He bellowed incoherently, hurling the skull at the wall, where it smashed into tiny little pieces. He sat there, breathing heavily, trying to hold onto his temper. All right. Fine. Fine.

In a way, this was Vincent's own fault, even though it pained him to admit it. He had perhaps played one game too many. But, he had to remember: there were other players involved in any given game, and the best and most exciting games were always the close ones. The opposing team was bound to score once in a while, too. It was inevitable. But it was the bottom line that counted. The final tally. If Gail was here, she would probably say that the most exciting games always went down to the last out of the ninth inning.

Of course, no one had ever said that Vincent had to play the game by the rules. If the Angels wanted to do the work, he had no problem with letting them. They were only going to get the ancient spell, anyway. But in the meantime, while Castiel was distracted, riding camels and watching his wife do the Dance of the Seven Veils, Vincent would be in Lebanon, Kansas. Planting the seed.

"So? You're kind of freaking me out, Linda," Paul was saying. "I wish you'd say something."

She was dazed. "You just asked me to marry you, out of the blue. I don't know WHAT to say."

His lips twitched. "Say yes. Or, say no. Say the Magic 8-Ball says to ask again later. Anything. Just don't leave me hanging, here."

Linda was astonished. Paul had totally blindsided her with this. "Why are you asking me now?" she asked him.

Paul smiled ruefully. "Well, I have to confess, I was looking for a little more happiness, and a little less suspicion. But if you want to know the truth, it's because I love you, because I like to be with you, and because Chuck told me he had a vision."

"So, Chuck told you to marry me," Linda said matter-of-factly.

Paul's face broke into a grin. This was just one of the many reasons he liked Linda so much. He knew she was joking, but she was so deadpan that many people found it difficult to tell. Even her own son had trouble, sometimes.

"In a manner of speaking, yeah," Paul said, taking her hand. "Cas and Gabriel are gonna ask me to help them on a couple of missions, according to Chuck. And I may or may not make it back alive."

"Don't talk like that," Linda said angrily.

"I have to, Linda," Paul said softly. "We've always been honest with each other."

She touched his face. "You don't have to go, do you?"

He raised an eyebrow to her. "Now what would you say if I asked YOU that question?"

Linda sighed. "I would say: of course I have to go. I owe Cas, for bringing me back to Heaven."

"My answer's the same," Paul responded promptly. "But, for the record, that's NOT what your answer would be."

"Is that right, smart guy?" Linda retorted. "Well, don't keep me in suspense. What would my answer have been?"

Paul cleared his throat. "'No man is going to tell me what I can, and cannot, do. You're lucky I even told you I was going!'" he said, imitating her.

Linda burst out laughing. "You've got me there," she remarked. "That's exactly what I would have said." She leaned forward and gave him a kiss. "And guess what else I have to say? Yes. Yes, I'll marry you, Paul."

His face lit up, and he embraced her, kissing her on the mouth. After a moment, Linda poked him playfully. "Where's my ring?" she asked him.

"I was so sure you'd say no, I didn't get one," he told her sheepishly. Then, he frowned. "Do you think Kevin's going to be OK with it? I know we're getting along pretty well these days, but this is is a pretty big deal."

"There's only one way to find out," Linda said, taking him by the hand.

Bobby had set Kevin up in a spacious room, with multiple computer screens and a long table where he and his assistant could study the printouts of the Tablet markings, and compare them with the ever-expanding Glossary of Enochian words and phrases.

Emma was looking at the Glossary now, wrinkling her nose. "Are you sure this word is 'Ammit'?" she asked Kevin. "What kind of word is that?"

"She's not a word; she's a Demon Goddess," Kevin said with a brief grin. "I think we should concentrate on that passage. It seems to suggest that her claw can be used to kill any number of supernatural beings, including Gods and Goddesses. I want to find out more about that. It could be really important."

Emma's lips twitched. "Gee, do you think?" she teased Kevin, and he grinned. He really liked Emma. She was cute, she was funny, and she was smart as hell. But she was a little offbeat, too. She insisted on wearing glasses, even though everybody told her that she was an Angel now, and she didn't need them. She said they helped her think. And sometimes she spoke in non sequiturs, or offered little-known facts which may or may not be germane to the subject at hand. She was quirky, and she was endearing, and Kevin had been starting to question his sexuality again, ever since Bobby had brought her here to work with him.

Linda and Paul walked into the room, hand in hand. "Hi, Linda!" Emma said brightly. "Hey, Paul."

"Hi, Emma," Linda said. "We kind of want to talk to Kevin alone, for a minute. Will you please excuse us?"

"Yeah, sure, you're excused," Emma said, waving her hand absently. She had already bent her head to the Tablet text again.

Linda rolled her eyes, but she was too happy and too excited to worry about it right now. "We have some news," she said to Kevin.

"I think I might already know," her son told her. "Cas is going to ask Paul to go on a mission."

"Well, yes...but no, that's not it," Paul said nervously.

There was a moment's silence, and then Linda blurted out, "Paul asked me to marry him, and I'm going to."

Kevin looked at them both, open-mouthed. They waited for his reaction. It took another few moments, but eventually, Kevin smiled slowly. "I hope you know that I'm totally calling you 'Pops'," Kevin said to the young man.

Paul started to smile, too. "You know what?" he said to Linda's son. "I'll take it. Beats a lot of other things you could call me."

Kevin stuck his hand out for Paul to shake, while giving Linda a one-armed hug. "I'm happy for you guys," he stated. "I know there was a time, not too long ago, that I was a little weirded out by your relationship. But after that whole thing in Hell, I changed my mind. I just want you to be happy, Mom. Are you happy?"

"Yes, Kevin. I'm really happy," Linda said, wrapping her arms around her son.

"Now, we'll just have to figure out how to combine Korean with Southern Baptist, for the ceremony," Paul said with a grin.

"Did you know," Emma piped up, still studying the Glossary, "that the third right arm of a male octopus is his reproductive organ? Some species rip the arm off and hand it to the female."

Paul and Linda looked at each other, and then they looked at Emma. What the hell? Kevin gave them a half-shrug. He and Emma worked long hours together, so he was used to this sort of thing by now.

"That's pretty much the way it works in the human world, too," Paul quipped, and Linda elbowed him in the ribs, hard. "I'll have to remember to tell that one to Liz and Gail, when we have my stag-ette," she remarked, smiling. "I get the feeling they're going to like it a lot. Laurel, too."

"Stag-ette?" Kevin said uncertainly.

"Don't you worry about it," Linda said to him. "Women only." She gave her son a kiss on the cheek. "We'll let you know when we've made the wedding plans."

Then the couple was gone, and Kevin stared after them. So, his Mom was getting married again. Huh. But he'd meant what he'd said. He really was happy for them.

"Come here, Kevin, I need your help," Emma said.

Frank and Jody were sitting in the neurosurgeon's office, waiting nervously for the results of Jody's tests.

"If it's bad news - " Jody started to say, but Frank cut her off. "We'll deal with it," he told his wife. "We always have. But, let's not borrow trouble. Remember when you had your first set of mammograms? It turned out to be nothing."

"Yeah. Until it was something," Jody said bluntly. "I'm not trying to be a pessimist, Frank, just a realist."

"Well, if it's all the same to you, let's wait for the actual doctor to weigh in," Frank retorted, but he gave her hand a squeeze. Truthfully, he was worried, too. Jody hadn't been herself, and she'd told Frank that the technician who'd done her MRI had stammered when Jody had asked her about the results, then avoided her eyes. Jody used to interrogate suspects all the time, and she was a good "people reader". It wasn't going to be good news. She could just tell.

Dr. Uxbridge entered his office from the side door. He'd just been in the records room, receiving all the literature he could compile on Jody's condition from a few of his colleagues. Forewarned was forearmed, as the saying went. Not that education was going to help very much in this particular instance, but most patients who'd been diagnosed with brain tumors had a lot of questions.

The physician had sized up the couple when they had first come into his office. Out of the two of them, he could tell that it was the patient who was going to be a lot more pragmatic about the whole situation, while her husband was going to be the one who was in denial. It was such a shame. This was the part of his job that was the hardest to handle, for all of the parties involved.

"You have a secondary brain tumor," Dr. Uxbridge said to Jody. He wasn't a big believer in sugar-coating things. Beating around the bush wasn't going to help anyone. The sooner his patients received the diagnosis and understood what was happening, the sooner they could come to terms with it.

Predictably enough, Frank shifted in his chair. But, somewhat surprisingly, what he said was, "Is it malignant?"

"I see you've been doing some research," the doctor said. "That's good. But that's also why I'm giving you this literature to read. Google is a useful tool sometimes, but it's not something to be relied upon, as far as diagnoses go. For instance, you probably already know, then, that secondary tumors can be contracted from the radiation used in cancer therapies. That's likely what has happened here."

"Great," Jody said sarcastically. "The cure for one disease gives you another disease."

Dr. Uxbridge frowned. "I suppose that is one way of looking at it," he said to her.

Jody let out a long, frustrated breath. OK. OK. This really sucked, but sitting here shaking her fist at the ceiling wasn't going to change the situation, was it? "Well, at least I know now why I've been getting all these headaches. Sometimes my face or another part of my body feels numb, and once in a while, I vomit, for no apparent reason."

"Any memory loss?" the doctor asked her.

"Yeah, from time to time," Jody replied honestly. "That's been the worst part; the feeling that I'm losing my mental faculties."

"Well, you're not," Dr. Uxbridge assured her. "That's just one of the symptoms of the disease."

"OK, so, where do we go from here?" Frank asked as calmly as possible. "How do we treat it?"

"That will depend on a few factors," the doctor responded. "We'll have to determine its size, exact location, and whether it's metastasized. The MRI was helpful in that regard, but I think we need a better look. I'd like to do an exploratory, so we can see exactly what we're dealing with."

"Brain surgery?" Jody blurted out, and then she realized how stupid that was. What the hell else would he be talking about? She looked at Frank. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi, and Jody was sure she did, too. She swore softly, and Frank took her hand again.

"Do what you have to do," Jody told the surgeon.

Bobby had expertly sailed the Ex Marks The Spot back to its berth in the Dominican Republic. He could have just winked them all back there, but he didn't think it was right to just abandon the boat in open waters. For all they knew, the Captain had family, who might want to take possession of the craft. She was a solid vessel, Bobby'd told his friends, sustaining very little damage from the punishing storm.

But once the boat was returned and they'd gathered their belongings, Bobby winked them all back to the bunker. Dean stretched, and let out a cavernous yawn. "I'm gonna sleep for about a week," he announced. Then he pulled Gail to him for a brief hug and smiled over her shoulder at Cas. "Thanks for the best holiday I ever had, you guys." Then he thanked Bobby for coming to their aid and shuffled down the hall, still smiling.

"I'm gonna see if we have any ginger ale in the fridge. My stomach's still a little wonky," Sam said. He looked at the Angels. "Except for the tropical storm part, I agree with Dean. I'm sorry we didn't catch up with Vincent, though. That whole thing was a great vacation, but it also seemed like a big waste of time."

"I don't know, Sam," Bobby said enigmatically. "You might find out that's not exactly the case."

Sam's forehead wrinkled, but Bobby held up his hand. "We'll talk later. You and Dean need your rest. And these two have some business in Heaven."

Sam was still puzzled, but he shrugged now. Bobby was right; now that the adrenaline had worn off, Sam was bone tired. So he said goodbye to his friends, picked up his bag, and went down the hall to his room.

"What are you talking about, Bobby?" Cas asked him. "What business do we have in Heaven?"

"Leah wants to see you," Bobby told him. "Both of you. Gabriel, too. And Paul, for some reason."

"Did she say why?" Cas inquired.

Bobby scowled. "She wouldn't tell me a damn thing. Apparently, I'm not important enough to be in the loop. I reminded her I'm God now, and she just looked at me, and gave me one of these." He turned his nose up and made a "Hmph" sound, and Gail laughed. "Sorry, Bobby, but that was a pretty good imitation," she said. "Well, I guess we'd better go, then. We'll just leave our bags here for now. I doubt the guys'll mind. They'll probably sleep for most of the day." She nudged Cas. "And after we're done in Heaven, I want to check in with Frank and Jody. Find out what's been going on there."

A short while later, they were in Leah's room at the Seniors' Centre. She was in her usual spot, with a blanket on her lap. She smiled warmly when she saw Cas and Gail. "How is Earth?" she asked the couple.

"Hectic," Gail quipped. "Hot. Stormy. Oh, and evil."

"Yes, I remember," Leah said calmly, not batting an eyelash. "But that is why I needed to see you. Our Father has blessed me with a couple of visions that I need to share with you." She glanced at Gabriel, and then she looked at Paul. "You must be Paul, Raphael's son," Leah remarked.

He came forward. "Yes, Ma'am. It's good to meet you." Paul extended his hand in greeting.

Leah took it, smiling. "And, such manners. Unusual to find in someone so young."

"What would you like to share with us?" Cas asked the elderly Angel, pulling up a chair for Gail to sit in, then seating himself between her and Leah.

"The skull wasn't real," she told them. "Vincent had a vision, though, and it was a very informative one." She went on to tell the group about the Book of the Dead actually being in two parts, and the potential uses of the Pyramid Texts and the Coffin Texts. But, in order to get the Pyramid Texts, they were going to have to go back in time, to mid-24th Century, BC.

"Saqqara," Gabriel stated, much like he had in Vincent's vision.

Leah looked at him with bright eyes. "You know it?"

"Yes, of course we do," Cas confirmed.

"Well, do you wanna clue US in about it?" Paul said a trifle irritably, noticing that Gail looked as puzzled as he felt.

Leah looked at him sharply, so he added, "Respectfully."

"Saqqara was the ancient Royal burial ground in Egypt, back in the day. Think...the rich section of town," Gabriel told him. The Archangel waited for the inevitable caustic comment about it being reserved for Whites Only, or whatever opinion of Paul's the young black Angel wished to share. But, no such remark was forthcoming. Huh. Maybe Cas had been right when he'd said that Paul's stance on seeing racism everywhere had softened. Gabe hoped so. That just made it awkward for everyone. If they were all going to have to work together on this mission, Gabriel hoped they would be able to get along.

"Anyway, a guy named Unas, who was the last ruler of the Fifth Dynasty, was the first King to paint the walls in his pyramid with the Pyramid Texts. I'm not even gonna comment on his name, or the fact that apparently, they had so few words back then that they could only think to call the writing on the pyramid wall a 'Pyramid Text' - " Gabriel went on, but Cas interrupted him.

"Surprisingly few documents dating back to King Unas' reign have survived, considering the fact that he reigned for 30 years," Cas told Paul and Gail. He'd had the feeling that Gabriel had been about to go off on one of his tangents, and Cas wanted to focus on the subject at hand. After the failure they'd had to achieve any result in the Caribbean, this sounded like the most tangible lead they'd received in a very long time. "Perhaps that's why it hadn't occurred to me to check there for the Pyramid Texts."

"OK, so, I'm with you, so far," Paul said slowly. "Ancient King, pyramid, old writings. We've got to get the jump on those other guys, when it comes to getting these Books. But, why am I here?"

"Because King Unas had trade relations and close ties with Nubia," Leah replied matter-of-factly.

"Nubia?" Paul echoed, his eyes narrowing. "So I'm here because I'm black?"

"Yes, of course," Leah said calmly. "You have ancestors who are buried in that pyramid. It was customary for courtiers to be buried close to the King, perhaps to serve him in the Afterlife. Most of them would be interred in their own, smaller, mastaba tombs, close to the main pyramid. But, a few...select servants will be near his chamber, and his concubines, too, of course."

Gabriel winced, and Paul's jaw worked up and down a couple of times.

"What's a mastaba?" Gail asked suddenly, and Gabriel looked at her gratefully. "It means 'eternal house'," the Archangel said quickly. "Doesn't that sound nice?"

Paul scowled, but he merely cleared his throat and said, "Is that the only reason I'm here? Or is there something more?"

Leah smiled. "You are your father's son, all right. Not everyone saw eye to eye with Raphael, but there could be no doubt that he was an intelligent man."

"You knew my father?" Paul asked the elderly Angel, with some surprise. He had momentarily forgotten to be offended at the inference that the King had raided Nubia, enslaved Paul's ancestors, and kept his own private little harem for those times he felt like slicing off a piece of chocolate cake, in favour of taking the high road. That was, regrettably, the way things had been, back in the day. He would have to process how he felt about that whole situation at another time.

"Yes, of course I did, young man," Leah said, nodding. "We'll talk about that in future, if you wish. But for right now, I believe you were asking me why you must go on this mission."

"I'll bet you I know," Gabriel interjected. "If the four of us are going back that far, we're gonna need a little more juice. Even light beer is still beer. If we can tap that Archangel DNA in your veins, that'll give me and Cas the extra 'oomph' we need."

"Gabriel is right, despite the colourful language," Leah remarked, with a tone of disapproval. In her opinion, the Archangel should conduct himself with a little more decorum. "To transport four of you back that many years ago will require all the power that you can muster, plus an assist from the current occupant of the High Office."

Cas's lips threatened to twitch at that remark, and he made an effort to maintain a neutral expression. Bobby hadn't been kidding about Leah's indifference to their friend's Godly title.

Now, Gail was frowning. She was reading between the lines. She'd had a little experience with time travel, herself. "Maybe I should just stay behind, then," she said uncertainly. "I remember how much it tired you out to send just the two of us back for a few hours, that time," Gail said to Gabriel. "If you don't really need me for the mission, maybe I should just hang back, then."

"No, I want you with me," Cas insisted, taking her hand.

Gabriel was looking at the two of them with a curious expression now. "Yeah, you'd better come, Kitten," he said after a minute.

"I have something for you, my Lord," Leah said, putting her hand on Cas's arm. It took him a moment to realize she was talking to him. He opened his mouth to tell her to call him Castiel, that he was no longer God, and then he closed it again and merely smiled at the woman.

Leah's hands went behind her neck and she undid the clasp of the necklace she was wearing underneath her sweater. Gail was used to it by now, but she still couldn't get over the fact that Leah wore both a sweater and a dressing gown in her room all year long, and she usually had her quilt or a blanket on her lap, too. Gail would be a puddle on the floor wearing all that, even though Heaven's temperature remained constant. Of course, Gail wasn't thousands upon thousands of years old, either.

"You may well need this," Leah told Cas, putting the necklace in his hand.

He looked down at it. "What an unusual pendant," Cas remarked.

"It's my Uriah's," she told him. "That is Bathshear's claw. When my husband slew him, he took it, as a souvenir. But I entrust it to you now, my Lord. You are attempting to enter a King's final resting place."

Cas nodded. "You believe we may encounter Anubis there."

Incongruously, Leah smiled. Probably because she was looking at Cas, Gail thought. But also, the older Angel was likely just pleased that Cas was one step ahead of her. Cas closed his hand around the necklace and stashed it in his inside jacket pocket. Then he patted the pocket closed. "Thank you, Leah," he said sincerely. "I will do my best to return it to you, if I can."

"Do what you have to do, Castiel," Leah said firmly, surprising Cas by referring to him by name. "I want the four of you to come back safely. That is the priority."

Gail's eyes were wide now. Anubis? She remembered the huge carvings that had animated themselves in the tomb in Egypt, where they had obtained the Earth Tablet. Those had only been statues of Anubis, and they had been intimidating enough. Were Cas and Leah saying that they might encounter the actual ancient Egyptian God in that pyramid? Holy moly. What might HE be like? No wonder Cas wanted her to come. They would probably need all the firepower they could get.

"And now, if the two of you will excuse us, I need to talk to these two alone," Leah said to Paul and Gabriel.

"That's okay; I'm going to go get my horn from where I stashed it, and then spend a bit of time with Liz before we go," Gabriel said, rising from his chair. "If you guys have anything you want to do before we go, I'd suggest you do it today. We'll all probably be out of it for about a week, when we get back." He grinned at Gail. "If you've missed sleeping in, here's your chance, Kitten. I hope Castiel doesn't snore."

Leah made her "Hmph" sound, and Gabriel took that as his cue to leave. She probably didn't want to even consider the possibility that her heartthrob might have even a teeny-tiny imperfection, such as snoring. "Come on, Paul," the Archangel said.

The young black Angel also rose. "Do me a favour?" he said to Cas. "Can the two of you come to my place, after? Linda and I have something we want to talk to you about."

Cas nodded. "Sure, Paul."

After the men left Leah's room, Cas regarded the older woman warily. "What else do you need to tell us?" he asked her.

"Our Father also advised me of a couple of other things, that I thought you might want to keep confidential," Leah told him.

"Such as?" Cas asked tersely.

"He said to tell you that Gabriel's blade must be recovered," Leah responded. "You will need it, in future. But this excursion to Saqqara is the priority. Depending upon what you find there, you may be able to eliminate at least one of your enemies. Pass me my quilt, dear."

Gail realized that Leah was talking to her. The quilt that the older Angel usually had sitting on her lap was folded up and sitting on top of a wooden chest in the far corner of the room. Maybe she hadn't wanted Paul and Gabriel to see it, for some reason. In any event, Gail got up and retrieved the quilt, gathering it up in her arms. She brought it back to where they'd been sitting, and Cas took the bundle from her to pass to Leah. But, an odd thing happened when he did: the quilt glowed a bright white, for an instant. Then it faded as Cas handed it gently to Leah, who smiled warmly. "Thank you, my Lord," she said softly.

Gail had been taken aback by the momentary glow, but then she realized that very little surprised her any more. Her head was still spinning with the concept of going back to 2500 BC to an ancient King's pyramid that might be protected by a giant, dog-faced Egyptian God. Plus, God the Father was apparently telling Leah to tell them that they had to find Gabriel's blade, and to make it a priority. That notion didn't surprise her all that much, because she knew first-hand how valuable blades belonging to higher-ranking Angels could be. In fact, her mind had already started working on that one. Hadn't Gabriel said he'd tossed it in the Mississippi River? But that had been years and years ago.

"Our Father gave me the vision I'd been waiting for," Leah was telling Cas now, and Gail gave her head a metaphorical shake. She'd better concentrate on the information at hand. Leah had the quilt unfolded on her lap, and she was pointing to one of the squares. "You are to kill Raguel with Samson's weapon. See?" she said to Cas.

His mouth dropped open. "The jawbone? But, where would I get that? It's not in the annex to the weapons room. I already checked. When I was in the High Office, I did an inventory, when I installed the alarm system."

Leah smiled. "That is because it is in a cave in Ramath Lehi. A Believer picked it up from where Samson threw it down, and took it back into the cave, concealing it in the Sacred Pit. When you go back to Saqqara, you must also travel to the Sea of Galilee, and retrieve the jawbone. Your three companions will assist you."

Cas was open-mouthed. "I'd thought that it was lost, forever. We all did."

"It will be, if you do not retrieve it on this journey," Leah said sharply. "As with the Pyramid of King Unas, the site no longer exists. But, have a care. You know that your party will not be the only ones looking for it. If one of you should fall, you will have to bear the sacrifice. But you are the only one who can retrieve the jawbone, my Lord, and you must not let it fall into the wrong hands."

Cas was nodding, looking at Leah intently now. Gail had lost them both a long time ago. The only thing she knew about Samson was that he was in the Bible. But, as she'd found out over the years, the stories in the Bible were not always true, or were revisionist, at best. But she was nervous now. This was obviously a lot bigger than she had originally thought.

But Leah was on a roll now. She put her hand on Cas's arm again. "Once you retrieve the jawbone and write down the Pyramid Texts, come back to Earth. You will use the jawbone to lure Raguel out of hiding and kill him with it. Then, you will have to find Gabriel's Angel blade, and find the Coffin Texts that will complete the Book of the Dead. But you must hurry, My Lord. Time is running out. Father told me that Vincent is not sitting idly by. He is very angry because his plan backfired, and he seeks revenge."

Gail's heart sank to her stomach. Great. Just great. Well, Vincent wasn't the only one who was mad. He had just led them on a merry chase, playing them for fools, wasting their time. The four of them had had fun down there, but obviously, fun time was over, now. Gail didn't like the sound of any of this. Anubis? Sacrifice? Vincent, seeking revenge? Suddenly, that tropical storm they had just been through was looking pretty good to her.

"Thank you for your service," Cas said to Leah, taking her hands in his. He had done it on impulse, and the older Angel looked startled. Cas realized that his gesture had been very human. But Leah was a long-serving Angel, and as such, his action would seem very forward to her. He hoped he hadn't offended her.

But then, Leah's face lit up, and she gave his hands a brief, gentle squeeze before releasing them. "I'm very happy to help, my Lord," she responded softly. "Now, I see that Father has left me here for a reason. I get lonely sometimes, without Uriah, or our son Joachem. They have gone on, and I have been left here, by myself. Originally, I thought that I was being punished for not fixing up our finest room for that poor, bedraggled couple that night, all those years ago. Instead, we put them in the stable, like common farm animals..." Suddenly, the old woman began to cry, and Cas took her hands again.

"Do not blame yourself for that," he said softly. "Promise me, please. No one blames you, Leah. Father does not blame you."

Leah sniffled back the tears. "Thank you, my Lord. Thank you. That means so much to me. Anything I can do to be of service to you, I will gladly do."

"You've already helped us, more than you know," Cas told her. "Is there anything else you would like to say, before we take our leave?"

"No, my Lord - I mean, Castiel," Leah stammered. "Please be careful, and come back to us safely." Then she looked at Gail. "Both of you."

Oh, good, Gail thought. Leah remembered that she was in the room, too. But then, she decided that was harsh, and unfair. She did feel badly for the older woman, beating herself up for the events of that night, so long ago. "Wasn't that your husband's decision?" she blurted out.

"I beg your pardon, dear?" Leah asked her, puzzled.

"I'm sorry, but when we learned that story as kids, we were always told that it was the innkeeper who told them that there was no room at the inn," Gail said hesitantly. "And from everything that I've seen and experienced, back then, the husband was the boss. So, why would you be punished for something that wasn't UP to you?"

Leah was silent for a moment, and then she smiled sadly. "You are a darling girl, and I am very glad that Castiel chose you for his wife. But you are a product of your time, Gail, just as I am a product of mine. When you go back, you will gain a better understanding," she said.

They said their goodbyes, thanking the woman again. Once they were out of the Seniors' Centre, Cas took Gail's hand. "I have to talk to you," he said to her, tight-lipped.

He winked them over to her office. "I wanted to talk to you alone, before we speak to the others," Cas said in a grave tone.

She looked at him warily. "Are you mad because I said that, Cas?"

"What? No," he responded quickly. "No. But I do need to prepare you for what we may be facing."

"Good, because I have about a million questions," she told him. "The Egyptian stuff, I get, mainly. We've had a bit of experience with that kind of thing before." She smiled briefly. "And at least, you can acknowledge that you know me, this time." Then her smile faded. "But...Anubis? Was she talking about the real deal? The ten-foot guy with the head of a dog? That guy?"

Cas sighed. "I'm afraid so. But now that I have Bathshear's claw, I should be able to kill Anubis. However, I've been thinking about something else: if Anubis is there, Ammit may be, too."

Gail looked at him, wide-eyed. "What?"

"Anubis is Ammit's brother," Cas replied matter-of-factly. "If we kill him, she should show up, to take revenge. And if she does, I can kill her too, thereby eliminating her as a threat in our present timeline."

"Cas! That's fantastic!" Gail enthused. But then, she paused. "What's the catch?"

He scooped up her hands in his. "We'll all be mortal, when we go back. We will have no special powers whatsoever. Just our intelligence, Gabriel's and my experience, and our combined fighting skills. But if any of us die there, we will never have existed, in this day and age," Cas told her, looking into her eyes. "I realize I was selfish in saying that I wanted you with me. That was why I wanted to talk to you now. If you wish to opt out of the mission, please tell me so. Now that you know the true risk, I do not want to force you to go."

"Are you kidding? Do you think I would just stay here, twiddling my thumbs, when you need my help? There's no way, Cas. Of course I'm going with you." Gail raised her eyebrow. "Besides, there's no way I'm letting you around all those beautiful, scantily-clad Egyptian women, with only Gabriel as a chaperone," she joked.

Cas smiled thinly, appreciating her attempt at levity. Then he took her in his arms. "You know that I'll protect you, down to my last breath," he said to his wife, and now, her heart was in her throat. They could die. They could actually die, if they went back there. And if they did, that would be it for them. No second chances, no future incarnations. In the past, when she and Cas had been those other people, God had always allowed them to come back; to continue on with their respective existences, as if putting down a book for a short time and then picking it back up to continue reading. But Cas was saying that wouldn't be the case, here. And really, why should it be? They had already received more than their share of do-overs. But at least if they were to die there, they would die together. Gail suspected that might be why Cas wanted her with him, and she didn't mind. If there was anything that she had learned from her ordeal after Cas had died on that plain in Egypt, it was that she was simply not interested in a life that didn't have Cas in it. But what was it about Egypt, anyway? What had Gail ever done to the Egyptians?

But that particular thought had led her to another one. "Can you really kill Raguel with that thingie of Samson's?" Gail asked her husband, intrigued.

His lips twitched. "If we can locate it, and if it is the genuine article, then yes, I can," he told her, kissing her gently on the forehead. "I promise I will answer more of your questions later if I'm able to, but right now, I think we should go see Paul, as we promised to do. Then we will squeeze in a brief visit with our Earth family, and then we will prepare to go. All right, my love?"

"OK, Cas." Gail stretched up to kiss him on the lips. "I love you so much, sweetie. And I'm glad we'll be doing this together."

"Me, too," Cas said, nodding. He kissed her on the mouth, gave her a gentle squeeze, and then took her hand. "Let's go."

GABRIEL

The Archangel and his Angel girlfriend were getting dressed, after having made love in her apartment in Heaven. Liz's residence wasn't very fancy, and it wasn't very big, because between all of the volunteer work she did in Heaven and her occasional babysitting stint on Earth, she really wasn't there all that much. But since taking up with Gabriel, she had shyly asked Cas for a bigger, softer bed when Cas had been God, and she and Gail had bought some clothes on Earth to supplement Liz's wardrobe. Gail's friend had been a very low-maintenance, Earth-mother type of dresser when she'd been a human, but now, she was trying to look a little more alluring. Liz wasn't sure how much of Gabriel's storied past was true and how much was embellishment, but she thought it couldn't hurt to try to look a little less like Prudence Pureheart, and a little more like a woman the Archangel could have some fun with. Gabriel had been thrust into the hero's role more and more these days, but Liz knew that he still had a healthy dose of the Trickster in him. And who the hell wanted to come home to a schoolmarm every night, anyway?

But he wouldn't be coming home to her for a while. As soon as Gabe had come over, he had told her about the upcoming mission. But before he'd had the chance to supply her with too many details, Liz had kissed him, and one thing had led to another.

So now they were dressed again, and they sat down on the living room couch as Gabriel explained what and where Saqqara was, and what they were supposed to do there. It would be him, Cas, Gail and Paul going.

Gabriel couldn't help but smirk as he described to Liz the matter-of-fact way that Leah had told Paul about his ancestors' roles in the King's life.

"You should have seen his face," Gabe told his girlfriend. "I have to hand it to him, though. He kept whatever opinions he probably had about it to himself. But, I don't think we've heard the end of it. I can't wait for the diatribe we're gonna hear when we get there and he has to see all of his relatives as slaves, and, uh...concubines."

"And I don't imagine Gail's going to be too thrilled about the way that women in general will be treated, either," Liz mused.

Gabe looked startled. Oh, crap. He hadn't even thought about that. He smiled weakly. "Maybe I should tell Cas to get another Archangel," he joked. "I'm starting to feel a little feverish."

Liz giggled. "Well, I think they both have a point," she said, taking Gabriel's hands in hers. "You and Cas are looking at things from an Exalted point of view, Gabe."

He waggled an eyebrow at her. "I like it when you call me 'Exalted'," he quipped. "It turns me on."

Liz smiled, but she had a serious point to make now, and she wanted to make it. "You know, you have a unique opportunity here," she told the Archangel. "Since Cas is based on Earth now, and you're here, you could be a really good mentor for Paul."

Gabriel almost looked behind him. "Me? A mentor?" he said doubtfully.

Liz nodded. "Sure." Then she frowned. "How dangerous is this mission likely to be?"

Gabriel sighed. He'd been hoping she wasn't going to ask him a question like that. But he could never lie to Liz. She had been messed around enough.

"Pretty dangerous," he admitted. "As soon as we cross over, we'll be mortals. And, remember I told you about Hakeem? I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have been too happy when he didn't get his hands on me, on our raid to Hell. Well, back then was when Cas and I first made his acquaintance. But the good news is, he'll be human, too. So I like my odds." Then Gabriel smirked again. "It's Cas you should be worried about. I'll bet you a bazillion dollars he hasn't told Gail about Letitia."

"Letitia?" Liz asked him curiously. "Who's that?"

"Athena's best friend," he responded. Gabe had come clean to Liz about many things from his past, and he hadn't minded telling her about Thena, because he came off looking pretty good at the end. There were some other little escapades that he wasn't quite so eager to tell her about, but Gabe rationalized to himself that since they were both eternal beings, he had plenty of time in their relationship to start disappointing her.

"Athena? The slave girl?" Liz inquired. Gabe had told her everything about his relationship with Thena, and she had been fine with it. Gabe was an ancient being, underneath the vessel he wore. Of course he'd had relationships with women before. But, this was the first time he had mentioned anything about Cas. Now, her eyes narrowed. "What ABOUT Letitia?"

"She liked Cas," Gabe replied, and now his lips were twitching furiously. "A LOT. Every time Thena would steal a few minutes together, Cas would keep a lookout. But Letitia tried her best to distract him. He assured me that nothing ever happened, but truthfully, I didn't really care, at the time. As long as he was covering my butt, I didn't see why he shouldn't get a little...well, get a little. But, he never did. I always thought it was because he couldn't take the stick out of his butt long enough to enjoy life. Let's face it; we're men. We pretty much had carte blanche, before Womens' Liberation was established."

"Yes, I know," Liz said dryly. "We've been going over a lot of history books and doing research on Google to figure out what to teach the kids in school. I've seen and read things that would make Gail rip her hair out by the roots."

Gabe smirked again. "Well, I guess I need to make sure that she doesn't rip LETITIA'S hair out by the roots. I mean, I like a good girl fight as much as the next red-blooded guy, but my little Kitten'll destroy her."

Liz giggled again. "If this Letitia tries anything with Cas, you should probably let her. And, at the risk of sounding like the old ball and chain, a very large part of me feels like warning you that I might be tempted to emulate her, if you do more than reminisce with Thena, while you're there."

Gabe's smirk dissolved into a warm smile. He loved it when Liz showed that she could stick up for herself. She might seem like a Saint sometimes, but she sure as hell wasn't a martyr. "Yes, Ma'am," he said softly. Then she was kissing him again, and he was kissing her back, and because Gabriel's mouth was being used for such a good cause, he somehow, sort of, forgot to tell her that he may or may not be coming back.

PAUL

After they left the Seniors' Centre, Paul and Gabriel had parted ways. They had both wanted to spend some time with their significant others before departing on the mission.

Paul was still residing with Henri in their little house, but that status would change, of course, once he and Linda got married. Paul and Linda had shared their happy news with the older Angel right after they'd gone to see Kevin, but they hadn't had the chance to tell Cas and Gail yet. That was why Paul had asked them to stop by.

Henri and Linda were chatting companionably when Paul got there. He filled them in on the mission, as far as he understood it. His friend and his fiancee were amazed; Henri, especially so. Because he'd had very little experience with the types of missions that Cas had been on, save for Paris, Henri had had no idea that such a thing was possible. Time travel? Sounded like Jules Verne or Isaac Asimov to him, not real life.

Now that Paul was with other people of colour, he felt free to vent about the fact that his ancestors had been servants to the King. "And now they want me to go in there, and bow and scrape? Maybe Castiel or Gabriel will make me call them 'Massa'. It's a good thing I don't have a sister, or she'd probably be standing out in the hot Egyptian sun, turning tricks for a nickel. I wonder if Gabriel owns a leopard-skin coat, and platform boots with goldfish in the heels."

Henri frowned, but for the moment, he let the younger Angel rant. There wasn't always a need to rebuke Paul, because Paul wasn't always wrong. Even though Henri was a lot less vociferous about these kinds of things, he was well aware of the history of his people. The change had allegedly been coming for hundreds and hundreds of years now, but sometimes, it felt like it was taking an awful damn long time to get here.

Nor could Linda say much, either. She was picturing her own ancestors in those same types of circumstances. Asian women knew a thing or two about being subjugated, up to and including the present generation. That was a very big part of why Linda had ended up being married to Kevin's father.

Paul sighed now. "But, I'm just gonna have to try to suck it up. What we're going there to do is too important to screw around with." His eyes narrowed. "I just wish I knew what Castiel and Gabriel aren't telling me. I get the feeling they haven't even told Gail everything about this mission. But, Cas and Gail are supposed to be coming here after they're done talking to the old lady, so, I'll wait and see."

Linda and Henri exchanged glances. Were the senior Angels holding something back? "Unfortunately, that wouldn't surprise me too much," Paul's fiancee said soberly. "I think very highly of those guys, but they can be like that, sometimes. Especially Cas. It must be his soldier training, from way back."

"Well, we'll just ask him, when he gets here," Henri said sensibly. "In the meantime, there's something I wanted to give the both of you, while we have a moment." He reached into the pocket of the cardigan sweater he was wearing and pulled out a small box, smiling at the couple. "Young Paul here told me he didn't have an engagement ring for you, Linda. After I finished giving him the business about that, I told him that, with your agreement, I had his back." He opened the box to reveal a simple ring with a modest diamond. "It's not too opulent, but it was my mother's," Henri told them. "When I told my grandparents about the two of you, my Grand'mere gave it to me, to give to you. She said it would be an honour to our family if you would wear it, Linda. It represents hope to us."

Linda was touched. "I would be proud to wear it, Henri. It would be MY honour. But, how about your mother? Wouldn't she like to keep it?"

Henri frowned momentarily. "That's a story for a much less happy occasion, cheri," he said, but his voice was calm. The timing was all wrong for that particular tale right now. He extended the box to Paul, who took the ring out of it, facing Linda.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked him.

"What? What do you mean? I was going to put the ring on your finger," Paul said, puzzled.

Henri was amused. "I think she wants you to take a knee, son. You young folks are used to doing that these days, aren't you? Proposals, football games, protests..."

Paul eyed the older Angel with interest. "I didn't know you were keeping up with current events on Earth, Pops."

"I always pay attention," Henri said mildly. "Just because I'm in Heaven, that don't mean the world has stopped turning. I did my part when it came to The Struggle. Now, I'm looking to see what those who have picked up the baton are doing with it." There was a bit more to it than that, too. Although, again, Henri wasn't sure he wanted to bring up that particular subject during what was supposed to be a very romantic moment for the couple.

"I was just kidding," Linda said to Paul now. "Here." She put her hand out, and he slid the engagement ring on her finger. She admired it for a moment, then looked at Henri. "It's lovely. You'll have to thank your Grandmother for us. Better still, I'd love to meet your grandparents, sometime. Maybe after Paul gets back, we can set something up. Now, you may want to avert your eyes, 'cause we're going to make out for a minute."

There was a sound of chimes, and Henri grinned. "Ahh. Saved by the proverbial bell." He rose to answer the door as Linda and Paul laughed.

"Come on in," Henri said to Cas and Gail. "How's Earth treating you?"

"I think it's neat that you have a doorbell," Gail told him, smiling. "I've always said the bunker could use one of those." She put her hand on his arm. "But, to answer your question, it's been never a dull moment, that's for sure. If we ever get a second to relax, I think we should start writing our memoirs."

They walked into the living room area, and Gail said, "Hey, Linda. What's new?"

Linda held out her hand, and Cas and Gail smiled at the couple, then at each other. Gail moved forward to hug Linda, as Cas extended his hand to Paul for a shake. Then they switched places, exchanging more hugs.

"Sit down, please," Henri said to Cas and Gail. "It's good to have you in our home."

Cas was frowning now. He was very happy for Linda and Paul, but now, he felt the pressure. He cleared his throat. "I need to tell you a few more things about this mission, Paul. I want you to have the full picture before you agree to go. But I want you to be willing to go, not to feel forced into it." Cas looked at Linda, thinking about the botched assassination attempt in Hell. "And I want you to be fully cognizant of the dangers, before you agree. If you and Linda need to talk about it after our conversation, go ahead. We have to go down to Earth briefly and check in with Gail's brother, and then we'll be back here."

"Are you really going back to 2500 BC?" Henri asked curiously.

"Yes, we are," Cas said calmly, nodding.

"Huh," Henri commented, smiling wryly. "So, science fiction isn't fiction, eh?"

"I suppose not; not in this instance," Cas acknowledged, inclining his head.

"Then let me ask you something," Henri said. "If you're able to go back in time, why wouldn't you just go back and kill Hitler?"

Cas nodded. "That is a question that has come up repeatedly. And while it's understandable that you should ask, I have to tell you that you must cease, immediately."

Henri's forehead wrinkled. "Say what, now?"

"Was what I said in any way unclear?" Cas said sharply.

Gail looked at her husband, startled by his sudden change in tone.

"No, but..." Now, Henri looked uncertain. So did Linda and Paul.

Cas looked at Paul now. "If you elect to go on this mission, you need to know that you will be mortal, once we get there. So will we all be. Also, we will probably face at least one ancient Egyptian God at the pyramid. There is also one more mission we must undertake that may put us in harm's way, if Crowley gets wind of it. We will have to travel by human means to an area near the Sea of Galilee and try to collect a Biblical weapon that he has coveted for aeons."

Suddenly, Cas stood from his chair. "Discuss it, and when you're ready to give me your answer, go to Gabriel. Gail and I will be there shortly." He extended his hand to Gail to take.

She was taken aback. What the hell? But then she stood slowly, looking sheepishly at their friends. "Congratulations again," she said to the newly engaged couple. Then she looked at Henri. Gail had no idea what to say to him that might explain the sudden change in Cas's tone, because she didn't understand it herself.

Then everything went black as Cas grabbed her hand, and an instant later, they were standing in the laneway beside Frank's house. There was a blind spot there, where his neighbours couldn't see.

"Do not ask me, please," Cas said to his wife, holding up his hand. "I don't wish to discuss it right now."

He strode towards the front porch to knock on the door of the house, and because he still had a hold of her hand, Gail had no choice but to hurry to keep up with him. She was completely bewildered now.

But before she even had the chance to open her mouth to ask him what the hell was going on with him, Frank answered the door.

VIGNETTE - THAT TOM JONES SONG

Cas had wrapped up his brief explanation of the main crux of the mission, which was to get to the King's Pyramid, and write down the symbols for the Pyramid Texts. Then they would have half of the information they needed to find the Book of the Dead.

Sam and Dean were astounded, and then amused. "So, the skull was a fake?" Dean said, smirking widely. "That. Is. Awesome." He and Sam looked at each other. Even though they should be really mad about having done all of that for nothing, the brothers had pretty much had a great time in the Caribbean. And finding out that Vincent had gotten screwed out of the real skull was just the icing on the cake.

They were all sitting in the living room of the house. Cas had asked Bobby to bring the Winchesters to Frank and Jody's place so that he and Gail could tell them all what was going on. Rob and Eric were there too, and Angela was sitting on the floor, playing with some foam blocks that had letters printed on their sides. She was just picking them up and putting them down, playing idly, but Gail had teased her brother that she expected to see a coherent sentence by the time she and Cas left the house.

Gail was still a little freaked out by that whole thing at Paul and Henri's place, but Cas appeared calm once again, and it was hardly the right time to bring it up now. But she noticed that Cas was soft-pedalling the mission, giving them only the barest minimum of details. That was probably just as well.

"Also, we will have to retrieve a Biblical weapon that, if found, has the potential to - " Cas started to say, and then he looked at little Angela. " - vanquish Raguel," he finished.

Frank grinned. "Thanks for that, Cas. Hopefully, it'll be a little while yet till Angela has to learn that particular four-letter word." He was talking about the word "kill", of course. "Although, for Dean's sake, you might wanna avoid words of more than one syllable," Frank added slyly.

Dean made a face. He got up from his chair and crouched by Angela's blocks. He picked up two of them and stood, turning them around in his hands, showing Frank the letters: F and U. As everyone laughed, Dean put the blocks back down on the floor, chucked Angela under the chin, and returned to his chair.

"That's great, Cas," Sam enthused, picking up the thread of the conversation. "Sounds like it'll be a productive trip. I wish we could come with you and help."

"What's the Biblical weapon?" Jody asked, curious.

Cas looked at her. "It's the legendary jawbone."

"The jawbone of an ass?" Sam blurted out. Then he looked at Jody apologetically. "I'm not swearing, it's - "

"Yeah, I know, Sam," Jody said, her lips twitching. She was having a good day today. She and Frank had made a pact not to tell anybody about her upcoming exploratory surgery. Actually, now was the best time for all of this to be happening. Bobby had advised that Cas and Gail would probably be exhausted and out of commission for about a week after having travelled that far back in time, and because they would have to get around the human way while they were there, it was not clear how long they'd be gone. The longer they were there, the more worn out they would be. And Sam and Dean were eager to get back out on the road after their vacation, so Frank had asked the brothers to take Rob and Eric with them for some practical Hunting experience, and they'd agreed. Then Bobby was going to ask Liz to babysit Angela, freeing Frank and Jody up to go to the hospital. But they hadn't told Bobby that was where they were going, of course. They had led him to believe that they were planning a romantic getaway, knowing that he wouldn't be too inquisitive about the subject. Until there was something to report about Jody and her condition, the couple were keeping their mouths shut about it.

"So, that story from the Bible is really true?" Bobby inquired of Cas.

Gail gave them all an embarrassed look now. "At the risk of sounding like a bad Angel, I'm not really sure I know the story," she admitted. "Was he the really strong guy with the long hair?"

"Yes," Cas confirmed, nodding. "He slew the entire Philistine army with the jawbone. It's a very powerful weapon."

"Actually, Cas, I think it's time for Angela's nap, now," Frank said hastily. "Can you give me a second to put her down? I want to hear this, but I'm afraid it might be a little...uh, smite-y for young ears." Gail's brother picked Angela up. "Say goodnight to everybody," he said to his daughter, waving her little arm at them. Then he looked down at the blocks. "Oh, look. The complete works of Shakespeare."

Gail made a face as Frank took the toddler out of the room. If they needed the jawbone of an ass, all they had to do was operate on her brother, she thought.

A few minutes later, Frank was back, and Dean said, "So: Samson. Long hair. Good fighter. Are we sure that wasn't my brother, in a past life? Maybe that would explain why Sammy refuses to get a haircut. Like, ever."

"See, Dean? There's a reason for that," Sam joked, playing along. "Obviously, that's where my strength lies."

"The only strong thing about you is your smell, when you forget to take a shower," Dean retorted.

"Hey, if the past tense of 'slay' is 'slew', then why isn't the present tense 'slaw'?" Rob joined in.

"If everyone is quite finished, I'll relate an abbreviated account of Samson's story," Cas said, sounding like the Angel who'd had that proverbial stick up his rear end all those years. A few of them exchanged glances, and Gail let out a frustrated breath. Obviously, whatever that had been at Henri's place was still bothering Cas. What had that been?

But Gail had better concentrate now. What Cas was talking about concerned her too, since she would be accompanying him back to the past.

"Samson's story is a terrible one, on both sides of the equasion," Cas began. "Even though the events are factual, the tale mainly serves as a cautionary one, maybe the ultimate one, against seeking vengeance." He sighed. "I admit now that I should probably have re-read it before I led that ill-fated excursion into Hell. I clearly could have used a refresher on that lesson." There was silence for a moment. No more jokes were made, at least not for the time being. That was still a very painful memory for everyone.

Cas went on: "Samson's betrothed was a Philistine, and the Philistines were enemies of his people. At his wedding feast, Samson told a riddle to the 30 groomsmen, who were all Philistines. But they became infuriated by the riddle because they could not solve it, and they told Samson's new wife that they would burn her and her father's house down to the ground, if she wouldn't tell them the answer."

Gail gasped, and Cas glanced briefly at her with a rueful expression on his face. Of course. His poor darling had no idea how brutal and bloody things had been back then. By comparison, life was civilized now, despite intolerance, and hatred, and acts of terrorism. Gail had had her baptism of fire, but she still had a way to go before she truly understood Cas's past. It was a past that had helped to shape him into the type of flawed individual he was today. But, he was trying. With the love of his wife and their family, he was really trying not to be that individual. Cas knew that Gail was extremely confused about the reaction he'd had to Henri's innocent question about Hitler and time travel, and he couldn't blame her. Not one bit. He supposed that he would have to come clean with her about it at some point. But certainly not now. They were about to embark upon a very serious and potentially deadly mission, and they couldn't afford the types of distractions that conversation would produce.

"So she went crying to Samson," Cas continued, "and he relented, telling her the solution, which she then related to the groomsmen. Then they provided Samson with the correct answer, but he was furious about how they had obtained it. So he went into town and killed 30 Philistines to get their garments. That was the bet that he'd made with the groomsmen; that he would provide them with the clothing, if they guessed the answer to the riddle."

"Aww, geez," Frank commented.

Cas gave him a brief nod. "So then, in retaliation, his new bride's family took her and gave her to another man, offering to give Samson one of the younger sisters, in her stead." Bobby winced, and Gail's and Jody's lips pursed up tight, but they let Cas go on. "Then, Samson went out and burned all of her family's crops. The Philistines soon discerned that he had been responsible, so then they burned Samson's wife and her father, in retribution. Then Samson killed more Philistines in revenge for that act, and then he fled, hiding in a cave. An army of Philistines came to get him and bring him to the town to face his punishment, but Samson slew them all with the jawbone of a dead ass he'd found on the ground outside of the cave. Legend has it that God touched the bone, and imbued it with the strength of a hundred thousand men."

They all sat there, stunned. What a horrible story. What an astonishingly horrible, brutally violent story. Cas had sure been right about it being the last word in revenge.

To break the tension, Jody looked at Frank, Dean, and Sam. "So, which one of you wants to volunteer your jawbone for the job?" She and Bobby high-fived smartly, as Gail shook her head. She'd made a great quip to herself earlier on the subject, but she hadn't said it out loud. Dammit! Oh, well. She could let Jody have this one. She wondered if whatever the problem that had been between Frank and Jody had been resolved. Her brother and sister-in-law looked like they were perfectly fine now. Maybe it had just been menopause, after all. Or maybe it had just been that blip on the screen that many couples had, from time to time.

"I couldn't have said that better, myself," Bobby told Jody approvingly.

"Hey! What did WE do?" Dean objected.

Cas had allowed himself a brief, tight smile, but now he continued with his tale: "Having escaped the army, Samson travelled to Gaza, killed some more of his enemies, and then fell in love with Delilah."

"'Why, oh why, Delilah'," Bobby sang in a lilt that was slightly off-key. Everybody looked at him. "What?" he said. "That's that Tom Jones song."

Cas sighed again. "At any rate, the Philistines bribed Delilah to find out the source of his great strength. Samson didn't want to tell her at first, but then eventually, she wore him down, and he did tell her. He claimed that his long hair was the source. So, she...uh...wooed him to sleep. Then she had his hair shaven, and when Samson woke up, the Philistines had him captive. They blinded him by gouging out his eyes, and then they made him a slave. Eventually, they called thousands and thousands of people to come to a heathen temple in town to watch Samson in his humiliation. He lifted up his face and called upon the Lord to give him the strength to pull the pillars down that he was chained to, but when he did, he killed himself, and thousands of other people, in the process." Cas looked thoughtful. "Our Father makes a very sharp point sometimes, when He decides to make a point."

They all sat in shocked silence for another few moments, and then Sam said, "Wow. That must be why the consideration of whether or not to use nuclear weapons is sometimes referred to as the 'Samson Option'."

"That's very astute, Sam," Cas said calmly. He was looking at their stricken faces, thinking that perhaps he shouldn't have been quite so candid in his recounting of the story. But everyone here was an adult, and experienced in matters of death, and blood. And, unlike some of the other Biblical legends, the story he had just told them was absolutely, one hundred percent true.

"So, you guys are supposed to go get that jawbone?" Eric asked in a hushed tone.

"That's right," Cas confirmed. "Leah told us that Father told her it is concealed in that cave, in a Sacred Pit. If that is the case, we will retrieve it, when we go back. The site is no more these days, and King Unas's pyramid has been destroyed, as well. That's why we have to go back to that time. But, because we are going back so many years, the trip will take its toll on all of us. That is why we came to see you now. You may not see or hear from us for a while."

Frank and Jody exchanged brief glances, and then Frank said, "You guys are always going somewhere interesting. The Caribbean, thousands of years in the past..."

"That ballgame you guys went to down there sounded like a lot of fun," Rob interjected.

"And Uncle Dean told us about your trying to ride a horse, Aunt Gail," Eric said, smirking.

Gail glared at Dean. "Uncle Dean is a snitch. YOU try riding a full-grown horse when you're my height. It's not that easy, you know."

"Won't you have to ride a horse when you go back in time?" Sam asked, logically enough. "I know an Impala's an animal, but it's not like you're gonna be driving one," he added, grinning.

Aww, crap. Gail hadn't even thought of that. And then, Jody made it worse: "And won't you be wearing a long skirt, or a dress?" she asked her sister-in-law. "I doubt you'll see any women wearing pants, not back then. Can you ride side-saddle?"

Gail's heart sank, but Cas looked at her. "You can ride with me," he told her. "Don't be concerned, my love."

She smiled at her husband. Now, she was picturing it. Cas's arms around her, holding the reins, keeping the horse nice and calm. Her, nestled against him, and Cas talking in her ear, pointing out the sights. The sun going down, providing them with a spectacular sunset. It would be so romantic. Just like the movies.

"Sam and Dean are taking these two yahoos out on the road with them," Frank said, gesturing to Rob and Eric. "They need a bit more seasoning."

"They've been doing pretty well on their own, but there's still a lot they have to learn," Jody added.

"Don't you love it when they talk about you as if you're not even in the room?" Eric groused to Rob, and Gail smiled. She'd experienced that same phenomenon herself, all too many times.

"Hey, are you kidding?" Sam said to the young men. "You're a psychic, Rob, and Eric, you can teleport. Maybe we should be asking you guys for your help. Those skills will come in handy."

"Why aren't you and Jody taking them?" Dean asked Frank.

"I'll be running for city council soon, Jody's got her charity work, and we've got a toddler at home," Frank shot back. "You do the math." He and Jody exchanged another quick glance. Valid excuses, to be sure. Hopefully, those were the only things that they would have to be concerned with, going forward. But that would all depend on what Dr. Uxbridge found, when he opened up Jody's skull to have a look. Frank was trying to keep that particularly horrifying visual out of his head. He'd faced down monsters of just about every kind and killed most of them in spectacularly gory fashion, but when it came to his own wife, Frank had to take a pass on the mere notion of them opening up her cranium. He could only imagine how she must be feeling.

"We'd better go now," Cas announced, and he and Gail rose from the loveseat. Just as they had their regular seats at the bunker, whenever they came to Jody and Frank's house, the loveseat was where they liked to sit.

Hugs and kisses were exchanged, with the Angels telling the Hunters to be careful out there, and vice versa. "And you be careful with local politics," Gail quipped, poking her brother in the stomach. "That might be the most dangerous thing you've ever done."

Frank laughed dutifully, but he was thinking about Jody again. No; it was his wife who was going to be in the most danger, in the morning. For a moment, he almost blurted out their secret. But Jody was right; it made no sense to panic anybody now, not until they found out exactly what they were dealing with.

They all went their separate ways after that, to embark on their individual missions. Some would be more successful than others.

DANGER ZONE

THEN

The Angels had gathered in Bobby's office a short while later. All four of them were there. Gabe had made a few nervous jokes to Liz, but in the end, there was no way he was missing this. Besides, there was also no way they could make a trip of this magnitude without his considerable power supply.

Paul had been a little taken aback by Cas's sudden shift of mood at his and Henri's place earlier, but he'd decided to shrug it off, for the time being. The young black Angel had to make sure he had his head on right before embarking on the mission. Regardless of the reason for his inclusion, this was Paul's first opportunity to serve on the right side of the equasion, and he aimed to do it right.

The four of them all raised the Angel blades they were armed with, touching the tips together. After activating it, Gabriel used his free hand to put his horn in Bobby's hands. "Take good care of that for me, your Lordship," the Archangel said to him.

"If you don't have it with you, how are you gonna get back?" Bobby asked him.

"I'll create a Portal, for when we get there," Gabe replied. "I'll stick it in a little out-of-the-way place I know of. Now, I don't know how long we'll be gone, 'cause we have to get around the human way, once we get there. The Portal should be good for about a month, and then it'll dissipate."

"Well then, you'd better get your rears in gear," Bobby said matter-of-factly. "Before you go, I just wanna make sure: nobody's got any cell phones, or watches, or anything modern on them, right?"

Gail smiled wryly. "That would be one of the oldest cliches in the book, wouldn't it?" she joked. Then she glanced down at herself. "But, we're not exactly dressed in period garb, are we?"

"You leave that up to me, Kitten," Gabriel said confidently. "You're in my ballpark, now." He smirked at Cas. He couldn't help himself. "I'll try to resist the urge to dress your wife too traditionally."

Cas pressed his lips together, but before he had the chance to say anything, and before Gail had the chance to ask what the hell he'd meant by that, Bobby held the horn over their heads with one hand, and touched it to their blades. Gabriel didn't have his blade, of course, which would mean a considerable loss of juice. But they had his horn, the blades of two Original Angels, and God's muscle. Plus, Bobby had gone into the annex in the weapons room and brought out Raphael's blade, presenting it to an astonished Paul. With all of that power, Gabe was fairly confident that they would be just fine.

They all shut their eyes, because Gabriel had advised that the light would be blinding. It took a couple of minutes, but the glow built and built, until there was a huge flash of white and purple, like a localized lightning strike.

Then Bobby heard a loud clatter, and when the light had faded enough for him to open his eyes, he saw to his dismay that the four Angel blades had fallen to the office floor. The Angels had apparently accomplished their time travel, but they would be going unarmed.

"Dammit!" Gabriel cursed.

All four of them suddenly appeared in what passed for the town proper, on a dusty road in the middle of a bustling marketplace.

Not only had they appeared in the wrong place, but they were empty-handed. Cas stared balefully at Gabriel. "We appear to be missing something very important," he said to his Brother.

Great. Just great, Paul thought, annoyed. They'd made this big show of presenting him with his dad's blade, and now, he didn't even have it.

Gabriel was looking at his travel companions sheepishly. "Anybody have their blade?" he asked hopefully.

Gail glanced down at herself, and then she glared at him. "Now, where on Earth would I be keeping a blade?" she asked him angrily. "Look at me!" She was dressed in what could only be described as a glorified bra, and a long but extremely diaphanous skirt.

Gabriel was trying to look innocent, but now Castiel was glaring at him, too. "You said - " Cas started to say, but Gabe raised his hands in supplication. "I only said I was going to try," the Archangel said, his lips twitching furiously.

Gail was feeling really self-conscious now. It was the tiny bathing suit, all over again. She looked around for other women, but she didn't see any. Was this like their time in Egypt, where a woman could only go out to the marketplace, or anywhere else in public, if she was accompanied by her husband? Well, at least she had that covered, this time. But as she glanced down at her hand, she was shocked to see that her rings were gone too, just like her blade was. She looked at Cas's hand. His wedding ring was also gone. Terrific. Hopefully, they had only been left behind in Bobby's office, and not floating around in the time-space continuum, or something.

But at least they were here, and they were in one piece. Gail was amused and a little surprised to see that the men wore just as few clothes as she did. Paul had a simple tunic on, that resembled a mini-dress, slung over one shoulder like a toga. Boy, Gail wished she had a cell phone. She would take a picture of him, and show all the ladies at Linda's stag-ette. And Gail couldn't help but notice that Paul was a lot more built than she'd realized, too. Attagirl, Linda.

Gabriel and Cas were bare-chested except for open vests, which didn't cover much. And, Saints be praised, they were wearing skirts! OK; she guessed that wasn't actually what they were called, but that was what they were. She stared at Cas now, open-mouthed. Wow. It just wasn't fair. His torso was tanned and muscular, and she could see the definition of his leg muscles now, too. Holy moly. What were they trying to do to her? She wondered if she would be sentenced to death if she went over there and just started touching him, right now. All in all, that might not be a bad way to go. Rowr.

Cas was handsome, all right, but he was also frowning. He was very angry with Gabriel at the moment. This could all have been avoided if they'd had Gabriel's blade. No wonder Leah had told them that obtaining it was a priority. But they couldn't worry about that now. They had to play the hand that they'd been dealt.

The first thing that occurred to Cas was that they would need to get some horses, but there was no way they could ride them with the type of garb they had on. Fortunately, both he and Gabriel had coin purses, attached at the waist.

"Paul, can you stay with Gail for a moment?" Cas said to the young Angel. "Gabriel and I need to go over to that stand down there, and buy some pantaloons. We'll just be a moment."

"OK, Cas," Paul said agreeably. "Make sure you get me some, too. I'm feeling a bit of a draft here, if you know what I mean."

"We'll be right back. Stay here," Cas said sternly. He grabbed Gabriel by the arm, and the men were soon swallowed up by the crowd of people.

"I hope he gets some for me, too," Gail said, her eyes wide. "Even what you're wearing would be an improvement. I'm gonna kill Gabriel."

The two of them looked at each other, and then they burst out laughing. "I wonder how much your brother would pay to see those guys in skirts," Paul smirked. "The Winchesters, too."

Gail laughed again. "Let's make sure we remember what they look like, so we can describe it in great detail when we get back," she said, smiling mischievously.

"What are the two of you doing here? Come with me," a man said angrily. He grabbed Paul by the arm, but Paul wrested himself out of his grasp. "Hey, man! Don't touch the merchandise," he said insolently, and the stranger sneered at him. "Do not test me, Boy. We're behind schedule as it is. Take care of him," he said to a couple of other men who were standing by. They seized Paul and started to hustle him through the crowd.

"You, too," the man said to Gail. "Get up there."

Gail looked where he was pointing, and as the crowd parted to let the men who were holding Paul by the arms through, she could see that there was a wooden structure there, that resembled a stage.

Paul saw it too, and his heart caught in his throat. What the actual - Phew. He didn't see a noose. Thank God. But what was going on here, then?

Gail started walking towards where they were taking Paul, so she wouldn't lose sight of him. When Cas and Gabriel got back, they would see their companions, she was sure. Now, the men were pushing Paul up the steps to stand with a group of other black men, and the man who had berated them was steering her to the other side. She walked up the steps there, and found herself standing at the opposite end of the stage, with a group of women.

She looked across at Paul. He had wrenched himself out of the men's grasp again and was looking around suspiciously. They made eye contact, and Gail gave him a half-shrug. What the heck was going on here? It looked like a high-school dance, with the men lined up on one side and the girls on the other, all of them too shy to be the first ones to dance. A nervous laugh bubbled up in her throat.

Now Paul thought he know what this was, maybe all too well. And it was almost as bad as a lynching. Sure enough, the man who had come out to fetch them stepped to the front of the stage and called out: "Let the auction begin."

Cas and Gabriel had made their purchases as quickly as possible, buying two pairs of pantaloons for themselves, and one for Paul. Cas knew that it would not be acceptable in this day and age for Gail to wear pants, not under any circumstances; so he bought her a more modest sheath dress to wear. She would be riding with him, anyway. He could place her in front of him, so she could ride side-saddle.

They headed back to where Paul and Gail had been, but the two were nowhere to be seen. Cas swore softly, under his breath. He'd told them to stay put.

But then, he saw the reason why.

"We will start with the women," the auctioneer told the assembled crowd. He strode over to where Gail stood and grabbed her by the upper arm, pulling her to the front of the stage.

"I don't think that one's finished growing, yet!" Hakeem shouted, and all the men in the crowd laughed.

Cas and Gabriel looked at each other. They pushed through the crowd, closer to the stage. And sure enough, there he was, in all his ugly glory. Hakeem.

"Watch out; he'll see us," Castiel cautioned.

"Doesn't matter," Gabe said, smiling. "At least I did something right. I brought us back six months earlier than when we were here before. Therefore, we haven't had the displeasure of making his acquaintance yet."

As Cas nodded in approval of Gabriel's action, the Archangel yelled out to Hakeem, "Hey, at least she's not ugly, like your mother!"

Paul barked out a short laugh. Had Gabriel just thrown down history's first "Yo' Mama" gauntlet?

Hakeem was less amused. He glared at Gabriel, motioning to his chest and the ornate gold breastplate he wore there. "As you can plainly see, I am a member of the Royal Council," he told Gabriel. "I assume that you and your companion are not from our region, as I have never seen you before. Still, you must know what happens to people who disrespect the Royal authority."

"What do you say, Hakeem?" the auctioneer spoke up. He knew what happened to people who disrespected the Royal authority too, but he also had a business to run.

"I will take her," Cas said loudly. He pointed to Paul. "And that young slave, as well."

The auctioneer brightened. This was more like it. "Very good," he said. "How much will you give me for the both of them?" Cas quoted a price, and the man nodded and said, "That will be satisfactory. Unless you would also like to make an offer, Hakeem?"

The Royal Councilman considered. He did like the look of the young slave. He looked healthy and strong, and of excellent breeding stock. But the girl, though shapely enough, was short, and relatively unattractive. Although the way he used most of these kinds of girls, Hakeem supposed it didn't matter all that much. He wouldn't even have to look at her face, if he didn't want to. But he had come here with a specific type of woman in mind, and there were a couple of really beautiful, taller ones still up for bids. So, he shook his head. "I'll pass. Let the stranger have the boy, and the runt." That earned him another sycophantic laugh from the crowd.

"That rotten son of a bitch," Gabriel said softly to Cas, seething. "He doesn't have to be so insulting."

Cas was bemused. "While I appreciate your indignation on my wife's behalf, it's unnecessary. If he's uninterested in Gail, so much the better." He looked at the other women on the stage. "I don't see Athena there," he remarked.

Gabriel frowned. "That's because we're already too late. Look." He pointed. A tall, willowy blonde woman had threaded her way through the crowd, and she was handing a dipper full of water to Hakeem now.

Castiel's eyebrows rose. "I felt sure that you had brought us back early so that you could buy her, first," he said to Gabriel.

The Archangel sighed. "I thought seriously about doing that, but I was worried about the Butterfly Effect. And before you ask me what that is - "

"I know what it is," Cas said soberly. "But I also believe that exceptions could be made, in certain extreme situations. And, considering the type of individual Hakeem is..." He trailed off, knowing that Gabriel knew what the inference was.

"Don't you think I know what kind of man he is?" Gabriel said angrily. "I saw the bruises on her, remember? Besides violating her, repeatedly, he used to choke her, and if she still didn't submit to his sick demands, he'd punch her out. Don't talk to me about making exceptions. I was trying to serve the greater good, Cas. Now, pay attention to the auction, or some other guy's gonna buy your wife right out from under you." It was indicative of Gabe's agitated mental state that he didn't make a joke about that last part, but he was having a crisis of morals right now. Cas had been very astute. Gabriel actually had tried to bring them back a little bit further, to before Hakeem had bought Athena. But he'd been unsuccessful, just like he'd overshot, and landed them here in the marketplace instead. Hopefully, the Portal was still in his and Thena's secret rendezvous spot, cause it sure as hell wasn't here. He hadn't had the time to worry about that, yet. And the fact that their blades had been left behind was very inconvenient. Although not insurmountable, a fact that Cas had obviously realized too, because he wasn't still haranguing his Brother about it. Gabriel sighed. He guessed they'd better move locating his blade higher up on the To Do List. If he'd had his own blade, none of these screw-ups would have happened.

But they would just have to go with it, at least for now. The auctioneer called: "Going, going...gone!", and just like that, Cas had "bought" Gail and Paul. He moved forward to pay the auctioneer, as Paul and Gail descended the stairs.

Once the transaction was complete, the group moved away from the crowd. "Wow, that was an experience," Gail said shakily. "A really, really humiliating one. I'm just wondering how offended I should be that there were no other takers."

Paul was fuming. He'd known this journey wasn't going to be a walk in the park for someone of his skin colour, but still, they had been here all of five minutes, and he'd already been up for auction as a slave. Wait till Henri and Linda heard about this.

"I hope you don't expect me to thank you for 'buying' me," he said to Cas, through clenched teeth.

"Don't take that tone with me," Cas said quietly. "I am not your oppressor."

"Well, I"LL thank you, then, especially considering the alternative," Gail said quickly, trying to defuse the tension. "Did you SEE some of those guys? Yuk!"

Gabriel smiled. Trust his little Kitten to know the right time to make a quip. He looked down at her. "I'm sorry about the outfit, Gail. Cas bought you a more modest dress to wear." He looked at Cas. "What's the plan? We need horses, right?"

"Yes. And weapons," Castiel agreed. "Maybe you can accompany Gail to the town, so she can find a place to change. Paul and I will get the horses and the weapons, and we will meet you at the inn in town."

Cas and Gabe exchanged glances. The Archangel knew why Cas was asking him to accompany Gail, instead of Paul. Like it or not, they had to face certain realities of the era they were in. They had momentarily forgotten, and look what had already happened.

"Will do," Gabe said, nodding. Cas handed him the dress for Gail, and Gabriel smiled. "Just for interest's sake, what were you gonna do if Hakeem had successfully bid for Gail?" he asked Cas.

Cas looked at him calmly, but he said nothing. Gabriel's smile grew. "Screw the butterfly, eh, Brother?" he said happily.

"Yes," Cas said, answering his smile. "Screw the butterfly."

And before a confused Gail and Paul had the chance to ask what the hell the men were talking about, the men steered their respective companions away.

NOW

It was finally happening. Becky was doing the cover of Chloe magazine, a fashion periodical for women under the age of 30. The other cover shoot she'd been supposed to do around the time of Cas and Gail's Never Have I Ever party had fallen through, when that magazine had gone bankrupt. That had been a really bad time for Becky. She had failed to create the love potion she'd been working on, and her big break had turned out to be a big fat nothing.

But she had kept on working the smaller jobs, showing up on time and being friendly and cooperative, and eventually, she had been offered this assignment.

They were shooting her all wrong, though. Becky had been modelling for long enough now to know her best angles and lighting, and what kinds of poses made her look the cutest. But the photographer who was doing the shoot had never shot her before, and he wasn't picking up on her subtle hints. But Becky didn't want to push too hard, or they might get another girl to do it, instead. Modelling was a really competitive business.

Becky was waiting for the photographer to reload the camera when a tall, dark-haired man entered the room. He said something to Rick, the photographer, flashing him a business card. Rick told the man to have a seat, and then he resumed taking photos of Becky.

But after a couple of minutes, the man stood from his chair. "You're shooting her all wrong," he said.

"I beg your pardon?" Rick said coolly.

His visitor looked at him calmly. "She needs to look cute, but sexy. You're shooting her like she's a middle-aged woman." He motioned to Becky. "Come here, honey."

She walked over to where the men were standing. "What's your name, sweetie?" the stranger asked her.

"Becky," she replied.

"Well, Becky, if you and Rick here will take my advice, you're going to sell a lot of magazines," he said. "I'm an agent who specializes in representing young women who are looking to maximize their profiles, and their earning potential. I've heard that you're an up-and-comer, Becky, so I'll give you a couple of free tips: wear a darker shade of lipstick, and open the top three buttons on your blouse."

"But then, my bra will show," Becky protested.

"Exactly," he said. "Just a peek. And, Rick? You should be shooting her standing just slightly to the right, kneeling on a chair. Have her do some sweet-but-sexy stuff. Eating a popsicle, or a banana. Sipping on a drink, with a straw in it. Maybe a couple of drops dribble down onto her chest, into her cleavage. Trust me."

Rick and Becky looked at each other for a moment. "What do you think?" Rick asked the young model. "Are you willing to try that?"

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "It sounds pretty hot."

"But don't go too far, either," the man cautioned her. "There's a fine line between sexy, and slutty." Then he smiled. "Wait till you get a little older, and then you can be slutty."

Becky giggled. "Thank you for helping me," she said. "Are you taking any new clients? I don't think my agent's very good."

"I'll tell you what," he replied. "If it's OK with the two of you, I'll hang around till the end of the shoot. Then, if you're happy with my suggestions, we'll talk. How's that?"

"Sure," Becky said, extending her hand to him for a shake. "What's your name?"

"Vincent," he said, smiling charmingly.

COMPLICATED

THEN

"So, let me get this straight," Paul said to Cas as they walked along the dirt road away from the marketplace. "We're going out to the outskirts of town and grab a couple of wild horses? Like, wild, as in never been ridden before? What do you think this is, Blazing Saddles, or something?"

"I don't understand that reference," Cas said, squinting against the sun, and a few specks of dirt that the desert breeze had caught. There were a lot of things he'd missed about ancient life, but he had forgotten how dusty everything had been. "But, yes, that's what we're going to do. I have the ability to calm animals."

"I thought you said we were humans, now," Paul said, confused.

"No, what I said is that we are mortal," Cas corrected him. "There's a distinction to be made, there. If we had our blades with us, we would be able to utilize some of our powers, but seeing as we do not, we'll have to improvise. I have always been able to tame beasts, so I see no issue." He smiled wryly. "However, obtaining the weapons will be a bit more of a challenge."

The men walked on in silence for another few minutes, and then Paul said, "Where are we gonna get those weapons you have in mind?"

"Where else?" Cas replied. "From the Royal Guard, of course."

Paul gave him the side-eye. "Oh, right. So we're just going to waltz into that asshat Hakeem's backyard and steal some weapons out from under his nose?"

"That's right," Cas said, nodding.

Paul was silent for another minute, and then he said, "You're a complicated dude, Cas."

Cas nodded again. "Yes, I am," he agreed. Then he sighed. "I feel as if I should apologize for what happened to you and Gail back at the marketplace, even though I wasn't directly responsible for the way you were treated. Is that what you would refer to as 'white guilt'?"

Paul was surprised, and a little impressed, too. "Yeah, Cas. It is."

"I didn't send Gail to town with Gabriel because I don't trust you," Cas said to the young Angel. "I sent her with him because, quite frankly, I was worried about the same sort of thing happening to the both of you again. As you have seen, Nubians have no status here, in this day and age. Nor does any woman, unless she is a member of the Royal family. Gail is fair game to men like Hakeem. Therefore, I did not want to leave you and Gail vulnerable to that type of situation again." He smiled grimly. "Gabriel and Hakeem have a history. A deep-seated animosity, that Hakeem presently knows nothing about. Approximately six and a half months from now, Gabriel will kill Hakeem, sending him to Hell. If pressed, he will not hesitate to do so again, making him the next best protection for Gail to have. Next to myself, of course."

Paul smirked. "I know what you mean, but if I was betting, I might put a little side wager on your wife. From everything I've heard, she's gotten really good at kicking ass and taking names." There was another pause, and then Paul said, "Why were you and Gabriel here before, anyway? You never said."

"No. I didn't," Cas said tersely.

Paul stopped walking, and an instant later, Cas stopped, too. "Don't do that," Paul said, annoyed. "Don't treat me like 'the help'. If there's an actual reason you can't tell me, then, tell me that. But don't pull that enigmatic crap with me, Cas. I'm here, and I'm mortal, too."

Cas sighed heavily. He supposed that Paul had a point. The mission that he and Gabriel had been sent here to perform had been highly confidential at the time, but it was a moot point now, wasn't it? "All right, Paul. If you will be patient just a little longer, we will tell you and Gail the tale once we get these horses, and the weapons. It'll be a long ride to the cave. I thought that we would go for the jawbone, first. I will feel much more comfortable once we have it in our possession. I promise you that we will tell you everything, when we are all together next. Deal?"

Paul eyed him. He supposed that would have to do, for now. At least Cas was treating him like a partner now, and not an underling. Given the entire scope of their history, that was pretty much all he could ask.

"OK, Cas," the young Angel said, starting to walk again. "OK."

NOW

"I have to take a leak, you guys. I'll be back in a sec," Rob said.

He got up from their table and headed to the men's room, while Dean, Eric and Sam drank their first beers of the night. They were tired, but very satisfied with the job they'd done.

Soon after the Angels had left Frank's place, the young men had driven the Winchesters back over to the bunker. Sam checked his Alerts and found what appeared to be a spate of werewolf killings in Foley, Missouri, which was just a state's drive away. So they'd texted Frank to tell him where they were going, and a moment later, Dean's cell phone rang.

It was Frank. "Uhh...so you're only gonna be gone a couple of days, max?" he asked his friend.

"Yeah, probably," Dean replied. "Why?"

"I was kind of hoping you were going to keep the guys away for a bit longer," Frank said hesitantly.

"What are you talking about? What the hell's going on?" Dean asked, mystified.

Frank thought fast. "Well, we weren't gonna say anything, but...Jody and I kind of wanted to have a few days alone together, here at the house. It's really hard to get romantic with so many people around, all the time."

Dean made a face. "Awww, geez. That's one mental picture I didn't need. But now, I've gotta ask: why don't you guys just get a hotel, or something?"

"One word," Frank told his friend. "Angela."

Oh. Right. Dean hadn't really thought about that. Yeah, he guessed it must be kind of a challenge, to get busy with a toddler running around the house. But, as Frank had been counting on, Dean didn't want to put any more thought into it. It was bad enough that Cas and Gail were around, smooching all the time. Thinking about Frank and Jody being romantic with each other might just be enough to break his brain for good.

"I'll tell you what, Lover Boy," Dean said dryly. "Me and Sammy'll bring the guys back there on our way out of town, and tell them to pack a few more clothes. We'll try to keep 'em out of your thinning, grey hair for a few more days. How's that?"

"Oh, har, har," Frank retorted. "If you weren't helping me out, I would feel compelled to point out that you're not as funny as you think you are."

"Wow, what a burn on me," Dean said sarcastically. "You must really want that favour. That was pretty lame."

"Bite me," Frank said promptly, and Dean laughed. "That's more like it. See you soon." Then he'd hung up.

So, true to form, when Dean had told the young men about Frank's call, they'd wanted to avoid the subject matter, too. But they packed at least a week's worth of clothes, and then the four men had headed out.

As they waited for Rob to come back from the men's room, Sam said, "So, we'll relax tonight, and then maybe we'll see if we can find another case or two. Sound good?"

"Yep," Eric said, lifting his beer bottle in salute. "Maybe if we stay away for a couple of weeks, Jody'll be less cranky when we get back. Frank, too."

"OK, we're not talking about that," Dean said firmly.

Eric and Sam grinned. "Agreed," the young man said. He grabbed one of the menus. "Let's eat, so we can drink some more."

"I like the way you think," Dean enthused.

Meanwhile, Rob was washing up at the sink. Not all of the guys he and Eric hung around with bothered to wash their hands after relieving themselves, but Jody had raised Rob to be more fastidious about those kinds of things.

He was drying his hands with a couple of paper towels when it hit. Truthfully, Rob hadn't had any strong psychic visions for quite a while now. He'd even gone online, to do some research on the subject. Was it something you could grow out of, maybe? He'd heard that some people were allergic to things when they were kids, and then they suddenly weren't allergic to them anymore, when they'd passed into their 20s. Or, was it the other way around? Anyway, he'd been unable to find out anything definitive. Most of the links he'd found were scams, like Madame What's-Her-Face. The only psychics he knew personally were Quinn, and his Aunt Gail. He didn't feel like he knew Quinn well enough to talk about it with her, and Gail hadn't had her psychic powers in years, not since she'd become an Angel. And besides, she and Uncle Cas were time-travelling right now. He smiled. That was such a weird thing to think about. Where's your Aunt? Oh, she and my Uncle are in Egypt, about five thousand years ago. Okie-dokie. But that was the kind of thing that passed for normal, in Rob's family.

The four of them were in Foley, Missouri, which was a town near the banks of the Mississippi River. Rob and Eric had joked about renting a boat and floating down the Mighty Mississip', like Tom and Huck. Dean had said that if he was going to float down a river on a boat, it was gonna be on one of those paddlewheel gambling boats. Rob had still been thinking about that when he'd left their table to go to the washroom. He remembered seeing a movie with his Dad a few years ago, where the characters were playing poker on a boat like that. He couldn't remember the name of the movie, but it had been pretty cool.

All of a sudden, Rob could see an Angel blade, laying on a riverbank. He stood at the mirror, staring into it, but he no longer saw his own reflection. Instead, he saw the rushing river, the blade glinting in the sun, and a hand, reaching down and picking it up. Then, he saw a paddlewheel boat, just like the one in the movie. But was he seeing it because he'd just been thinking about it? Or was it connected to the Angel blade? Now, he saw the blood on the blade, and he heard screaming...

Then, just as suddenly, the vision was gone. He stood there for another minute or two, waiting, but it didn't come back. Rob washed his hands again, and then went back out to the bar to sit with the guys.

BOYS WILL BE BOYS

THEN

Gabriel had paid for a night's lodging at the inn, and Gail was bemused to note that the man who took the money did so without any questions whatsoever. In the present time, they asked for ID, or a credit card, or something. And in Egypt, when they'd been there to get the Earth Tablet, she had been looked at with suspicion, because she didn't have a husband.

This guy couldn't have cared less. He gave her a cursory leer, and then he turned around and walked away.

The room was very simple, of course. The inn was a small stone bungalow, and the room consisted only of a pallet of straw on the ground, and a door. But, hey, at least that meant they could close the door, for some privacy.

Gabriel handed her the dress, and Gail looked around. "Ummm...where do I change?" she asked him.

"Guess?" he said, smiling happily.

Gail rolled her eyes. "Just out of curiosity, where do people go to the bathroom?" she asked the Archangel.

He pointed to the corner of the room, where a stone bowl was sitting on the floor. They had to be kidding with that. But, what did they do with it, after...? Nope. Never mind. She didn't want to know.

"OK, turn around," she told Gabriel, and he smirked. "No can do, Kitten. I promised Castiel I'd keep an eye on you."

Gail made a face. "Look, Buddy-Boy, it's your fault I'm dressed like this in the first place. As it is, you nearly got me auctioned off to some strange man."

Gabe debated the prudence of reminding her that Castiel had been the only bidder, and then he decided that he'd better not push it. So he turned his back on her, so that she could put the dress on.

Gail took off the skirt, and then she slipped the dress on over her head, pulling it down to cover herself. She left the bra top on, to serve as underwear. The dress was quite modest, reaching well below her knees. Phew. If she couldn't have pants, at least she was decent, now. She examined the sheer skirt. Yikes. No wonder those guys had thought she was a -

"Can I turn around now?" Gabriel said, and Gail said, "Yeah, I guess so. Although I should make you stand in the corner with the chamber pot, for a time out."

He turned around, and she balled up the skirt and tossed it at him. "Here," she said, sour-faced. "Next time you're tempted to do something like that, don't."

"I'm sorry, Gail," he said, and his tone was genuine. "I guess I've spent so much time in the modern world now that I forget how backward things are here." He unfurled the skirt and looked at it. "Maybe you should make me wear it for a while, as punishment. Do you think I have the legs to pull it off?"

Gail laughed. "Did they hold a Charm School in Heaven, or do you and Cas just come by it naturally?"

Gabriel lifted an eyebrow. "Are you flirting with me, Kitten?"

She shrugged. "Sure, why not?" she joked. Then she said, "Can you tell me something? What were you and Cas doing here, all those years ago? How come you're so familiar with everything?"

He sighed. "Since we've got some time, I'll tell you a story. Do you want to sit on the comfy, soft mattress there? Here, I'll give you a hand." He extended his hand for her to take and helped lower her onto the pallet. Then he sat down next to her. "It's a good thing I've got these pantaloons on, or you would have seen far more of me than Castiel would like," Gabe quipped.

They were silent for a moment, and then Gabriel said, "Do you remember me telling you about Hakeem, when we went to Hell?"

Gail's forehead wrinkled. "Yes. Why?"

"He was the guy who was insulting you, back at the marketplace," Gabriel told her. "He's a rotten bastard of a man, who doesn't deserve to live. He buys slave girls and concubines, forces himself on them, and then beats them up, whether they submit to him or not."

Gail was appalled. "Oh, my God. That's terrible! Let me ask you another question, then: how come he's still alive?"

Gabriel smiled slowly. "You're my kind of woman, Gail." Then his smile faded. "I was sweet on one of 'his' women. Her name was Athena. She was aptly named, too. She was beautiful. Tall, slender, silky blonde hair. Just his type," he added bitterly. "I used to see her around town, with his bruises all over her. I tried to talk her into running away, but she said she had no place to go. I went to him and tried to buy her freedom, and he laughed in my face. Said he was a member of the Royal Council, and he could have me dismembered, or worse. You don't know how badly I wanted to burn that bastard, right down to the ground. It would have been so easy..." Gabriel clenched his fists. Then he let out a shaky breath. "But, Dad forbade it. Said we were here to do a job, and that was that. So, Castiel and I got the job done, but before we left, Hakeem accidentally ran into my blade. About fifteen or sixteen times." As Gail's lips twitched at that last comment, Gabriel laughed shortly. "Cas and I paid for that little act of disobedience. But, it was worth it."

They were silent for a moment, and Gabe was scrutinizing her face. Finally, he said, "Why aren't you saying something?"

There were so many things that Gail wanted to say at this moment that it was hard to decide. Finally, she went with, "I'm just trying to get past your use of the word 'forbade'."

Gabriel started to smile. "Hey, what can I say? I guess I lapsed into old-timey AngelSpeak there, for a minute."

"What did God do to you guys?" she asked him curiously.

Gabe gave her a half-shrug. "Ahhh, no biggie. The usual. Sackcloth, ashes, a little smiting...you know." He smiled faintly. "Cas really had my back, then. Dad was mad, because Cas didn't stop me. He could have thrown me under the proverbial bus, but he didn't. He stood right there next to me, and he took the same punishment as me. Later, I asked him why, and he said it was because we're Brothers, and because in his opinion, I did the right thing."

Gail smiled warmly. "That's my husband for you. He's pretty wonderful, isn't he?"

Gabriel smirked. "Yeah, I guess so. Dammit! Now, I'm thinking I should have waited to tell you that story. Now you're feeling all warm and fuzzy about HIM, when my goal was to make you feel sorry for ME."

Gail ignored him. She knew Gabriel pretty well by now, well enough to know that he frequently covered up painful emotions by being a smartass. She put her hand on his arm. "I DO feel sorry for you. And Cas. But I especially feel sorry for - what did you say her name was?"

"Athena," Gabe said softly. "'Thena, was what I called her. She and I used to get together in a private little spot, to talk, and..." He trailed off.

"Canoodle," Gail supplied, and the Archangel smiled. "Yeah. That," he said. "Cas would patrol the grounds, making sure we weren't caught. He was hoping I might be able to persuade her to run off, too. At least, that's what he said. I think that rascal was just rooting for our romance." Gabriel's smile widened into a grin. "He kept us from being discovered, even though Letitia tried her best to distract him."

"Who? Letitia? Who's that?" Gail asked him, and Gabriel cursed himself. Crap! He hadn't meant to say that. Obviously, Gabe's prediction to Liz had proven to be true. Cas hadn't told his wife about the beautiful, raven-haired Letitia. Hoo, boy. Gabriel's Brother was gonna have some explaining to do, when Cas got here. And so was Gabriel, because Cas wasn't going to be too happy that Gabe had opened up his big mouth about it. Well, that was what Cas got, for leaving Gabriel here alone with his wife.

"Read any good books lately?" Gabriel asked her, trying to look innocent.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Gabriel and Gail were standing outside the inn when Cas and Paul arrived. They were each riding a horse, and Cas was leading another horse by the reins. As they drew near, Gabriel could see that the horses all had saddles, with scabbards hanging from them.

The Archangel started to grin as the men came to a halt. "Well, well, would you look at this," he said, smirking. "Wild horses running around the desert, fully equipped with saddles and swords. Now, I've seen everything."

Cas lowered himself to the ground and tethered the horses to a post in front of the inn. "Yes, it's truly remarkable," he said in response to Gabriel's comment. "It's merely a coincidence that Hakeem is missing a horse, and four swords."

Gabriel came forward and clapped Cas on the shoulder. "How in the hell did you manage that?" he asked his Brother.

Cas gave him a look. Then he said, "The Royal Guard were a little the worse for wear after what we in our time will call 'Happy Hour'. You remember how much they liked their wine. It was not very difficult. All Paul and I had to do was wait, to hear the snoring sounds."

Paul was a little slower descending from his horse than Cas had been, but he was grinning. He'd been a little skeptical, but Cas had tamed two wild horses in the desert as promised, and then he had told Paul about his plan to steal a third, and the weapons, out from under the guard's drunken noses. So Paul was pretty impressed with Cas right now, even though the young Angel's butt was pretty sore at the moment. Cleavon Little notwithstanding, Paul preferred his mustangs to be of the classic car variety.

Cas went to Gail. "Are you OK, my love? You look very nice in that dress. Is it comfortable?"

"It's good, Cas," she told him. "So, what's the plan?"

"If Gabriel is agreeable, I think we should head out to the desert in a couple of hours, once the horses have had a chance to rest," he said. "We'll get some water from the innkeeper. The sun should be starting to set, by then. The Sea of Galilee is a five or six-day ride from here. There are blankets in the horses' saddlebags. I'm afraid there isn't much else, but you can ride with me, and I'll keep you as warm as possible. At least we don't have the need to sleep, but the horses will have to rest every now and then. But I'd like to get going as soon as possible. Since the Portal will only be in place for a month, we will have to be quick if we hope to accomplish both of our missions."

"Why were you and Gabriel here before, Cas?" she asked him.

"I promised Paul that we would tell both of you about it, on our journey," he replied.

Gail nodded. "Oh, so there was another reason to be here, other than hanging around with beautiful girls."

Cas looked angrily at Gabriel, who shrugged. "Oops," the Archangel said.

NOW

Laurel and Chuck had been talking in the library when Linda entered. "Am I interrupting anything?" she asked the couple.

"No, we were just talking about the wedding," Laurel said.

"Oh, good," Linda said happily. "That's what I'm here to talk about, too. Mine, not yours."

"What about it, Linda?" Chuck asked her. He and Laurel knew that she and Paul were engaged, of course. Word had spread like wildfire.

"I need to do some research," Linda responded. "I wonder if you have any books on traditions for Southern Baptist weddings."

"Southern Baptist?" Chuck echoed blankly.

Linda let out a breath. "Yes, Chuck. Paul told me his religious background is Southern Baptist. I'm trying to find out if there are any of their traditions that we could use for our ceremony."

"That's nice," Laurel remarked. "I'm sure he would appreciate that."

Chuck was typing away at the computer he kept at the front desk. "I don't think we'll need any books," he said affably. "I'll just Google - oh."

"What?" Linda said sharply. "What do you mean, 'oh'?"

"It says here that Southern Baptists don't approve of drinking and dancing," Chuck said, frowning. Then his beard twitched with amusement. "Isn't that the whole point of having a reception?"

"Actually, Korean weddings don't usually even have a reception," Linda remarked. "We usually just have a meal, and then we have a ceremony just for the family, called a 'pyebaek'. But I was thinking about having a reception, 'cause we're going to get married on Earth, like you guys." She grinned. "Can you imagine a wedding reception with no drinking? Dean and Frank would never forgive us."

Laurel laughed. "I have to admit, that sounds kind of dull. Especially if there's no dancing. I love to dance."

"The website I'm looking at says that's only the really conservative conservatives, though," Chuck added. "I can't imagine Paul would be one of those, though, since he used to be a Demon."

Laurel gasped, and Linda fixed Chuck with a baleful glare. "As I recall, so did you," she said coolly.

Chuck was shamefaced. "I'm sorry, Linda. I didn't mean anything by that. It was just an idle comment."

"Well, keep your comments to yourself," Linda said tartly. "Right now, Paul is in ancient Egypt, risking his life on a very important mission for Heaven. And, what are you doing? Oh, that's right; you're writing a movie script. Never mind. I'll do my research elsewhere."

She turned on her heel and stalked out of the library as Chuck and Laurel stared after her. Then Laurel turned to Chuck and raised her eyebrows. "Well, he was," Chuck said weakly.

"Fine," Laurel said in a clipped tone. "But, as Linda pointed out, you were a bad guy, too. One of the worst, for a while there. But you changed, and you redeemed yourself, and we all forgave you. Now, Paul is doing the same. I would think that you, of all people, could give him a break."

Chuck frowned. He wished she hadn't put it quite that way, but as usual, she was right. It was just a little hard for Chuck to fully accept Paul as one of the good guys. But he guessed he was being a hypocrite on that score, wasn't he? He himself had been annoyed that the Winchesters had viewed him with suspicion, when he had genuinely been trying to mend his ways.

"You're right, Laurel," he said, taking her hand. "Now, what kind of food would you like to serve our human friends at the reception?"

THE HARD WAY, EVERY TIME

THEN

They had been riding through the desert for hours now, and Cas and Gabriel agreed that they were going to have to stop soon. The horses needed rest, and water.

Gail and Paul had been impressed by the men's acumen when it came to things like knowing exactly where they were going. There certainly weren't any street signs, were there? There weren't even streets. Just sand, and more sand. Gail sighed. She'd just shaken off the last bits of sand from their trip to the Caribbean and now, here she was again. Sometime, somehow, she was going to have to insist on a mission where it wasn't a hundred damn degrees all the time.

Actually, though, once the sun had gone down, the temperature became quite comfortable. And when they finally stopped to make camp, her teeth were chattering. Cas cajoled the horses to sleep, and then he spread a blanket out on the sand for Gail to sit on. He wrapped another blanket around her, telling her he'd be right back to cuddle her after he and Gabriel built a fire.

A fire, in the desert, Gail thought, bemused. But the idea appealed to her, nonetheless. It was weird how it could be so hot during the day, but so chilly now.

"I'm feeling distinctly un-manly, right now," Paul said to Gail, watching the other men build the fire. "I never learned how to do all this wilderness stuff. Of course, I haven't been around nearly as long as the two of them have, either."

"No one has," Gail quipped. "We're products of our time," she added. "In the modern age, we have electricity, and GPS. People who lived here back then needed to learn the skills they did, just to survive."

"I hear that," Paul responded, nodding and wrapping his own blanket tighter around himself.

Once they had the fire going, Gabriel and Cas came back to sit with their companions. Gail opened the blanket she'd had wrapped around herself so that she could share it with Cas. He sat down with her, wrapped the blanket around the both of them, and put his arms around her. "Are you warm enough, my love?" he asked his wife, and she nodded.

Gabriel looked at Paul with a raised eyebrow, and the younger Angel said, "Awww, man! Do we have to?"

"I'm cold," Gabriel complained. "Look at Cas and Gail. They have the right idea."

Paul sighed. "Serve Heaven, they said. Do good deeds, they said. But they never said anything about having to cozy up to another guy. Geez." He opened his blanket. "All right. Come in, then. Just...don't tell anybody about it. Ever."

"So you mean I shouldn't use this in my wedding toast, for you and Linda?" Gabriel teased him. "It'll be tasteful, I promise." Then he produced the blanket he'd been hiding behind his back. "Psych! I just wanted to see if you'd do it."

Paul rolled his eyes as Gabriel sat down with the group. "Anybody got any good campfire stories?" he asked mischievously.

"I think you've told enough stories, today," Cas said, with a touch of irritation in his voice.

"Are you still mad about that whole Letitia thing?" Gabe asked him. "Gail understands. Don't you, Kitten?"

"Sure I do," Gail confirmed, nodding. "Just another woman who was madly in love with my husband. Story of my life."

"She was gorgeous, too," Gabriel said happily. "Think: Elizabeth Taylor, as Cleopatra. Actually, think Cleopatra as Cleopatra."

"Perhaps I shouldn't have passed my smiting ability on to Bobby," Cas said darkly, as Paul winced at what Gabriel was saying. Was the Archangel suicidal, or just nuts?

"I was just trying to point out that she was that beautiful, with gorgeous eyes, creamy skin, and a body that was so - " Gabriel was saying now, and Cas said, "That's it. I'm getting one of those swords."

"Let me finish," Gabriel insisted. He looked at Gail. "She was all that, and more, and Cas wasn't even tempted. Think about that, Gail. He never went for her. We were teasing him about it later, in Heaven."

"'We' were?" Cas said, frowning. "You mean, YOU were."

"Whatever, Gabriel said, shrugging. "And, you know what Cas said, then?"

"No," Gail replied, curious. "What?"

"He said he was waiting for his mate. His one true love," Gabriel said, smiling at the memory. "He said he didn't care what anyone else said or did. She was going to be worth the wait."

There was silence for a moment, and then Gail looked at Cas. "Did you really say that?"

"Yes, I did," he confirmed. His arms tightened around her. "And I meant every word of it, too. Both then, and now."

The two of them started to kiss as Gabriel smiled. There. He was no amateur when it came to getting out of trouble. He'd been doing it for thousands of years. He looked at Paul, still smiling warmly, and the look on Paul's face at that moment was so comical that Gabe nearly laughed out loud. Paul was proving to be so much more fun than his father. Granted, he was a little abrasive, especially when it came to the issue of race, but Paul was also funny, articulate, and ethical. Gabriel was slowly warming to him.

"Are you ready to tell us why you were here, before?" Paul asked the men. Gabriel and Cas exchanged glances, and Cas took a deep breath.

"We were here on a mission from God," Castiel said soberly.

"Who are you guys, The Blues Brothers?" Paul joked, but Cas looked at him with a blank expression. Paul shrugged. Oh, well. You couldn't win 'em all.

Cas had started out slowly, because he was still loath to tell Paul what he and Gabriel had really been sent here for, all those years ago. Now he fell silent, so Gabe picked up the torch.

"Dad sent us here to retrieve your father," Gabriel told Paul.

Paul was stunned for a moment, and then he exclaimed, "'Retrieve'? What do you mean, 'retrieve'?"

Another pause, and then Cas said, ""Raphael was not always..." He fell silent, then tried again. "Your father was once one of Heaven's greatest heroes. He was instrumental in helping our Father to rid the Earth of Demons. He would bind them, and then exterminate them."

"Yeah, until he bound the wrong Demon: Azazel," Gabriel said bitterly.

Gail looked at the Archangel sharply. Why did she know that name?

"Azazel corrupted him," Cas said softly. "Raphael had the Arm of the Lord, and he was about to smite Azazel with it when something went wrong. We can only surmise that Azazel used his considerable powers of persuasion to get Raphael to spare his life, and then turned him against Heaven."

"When Raffy didn't come back, our Father sent me here to retrieve him," Gabriel said. "I think Dad must have suspected that something was up, because instead of sending an army of ordinary Angels, He sent the only Archangel He had who could stand up to Raphael without being disintegrated. Or worse, joining him on the dark side."

"You were also glib," Cas added, "with powers of persuasion to rival Azazel's own."

"How else do you think I've managed to woo all those beautiful women for all of these years?" Gabriel quipped, waggling his eyebrows. "Thanks for the compliment, Bro."

Cas saw no need to tell Gabriel that he hadn't necessarily meant it as a compliment. Then Gail said, "But then, why did Cas come with you?"

Gabriel gave her a half-shrug. "Because Dad didn't trust me; not completely, anyway. He thought I might not take the job all that seriously, and come down here to fool around, instead. Me. Can you imagine?"

As Gail tried to think of something diplomatic to say in response, Gabe went on: "Yeah, yeah, I know. It's OK. I get it. When you're a Trickster, you have to expect that kind of thing. Plus, I'm a lover, not a fighter. I was gonna do what I had to do, but confrontation isn't really my thing. Never has been. So, Dad sent His best soldier as my escort. Cas was the muscle, and he was also supposed to keep me on the straight and narrow. And he did. Well, kind of."

Paul was astounded. He'd been looking back and forth between Cas and Gabriel and Gabriel and Cas, but for the moment, he was rendered speechless.

Gail wasn't, though. "Wait a minute," she said slowly. "Azazel? Isn't that the guy who killed Sam and Dean's mother?"

"Yes. That's right," Cas confirmed.

She was starting to feel excited now. "And Gabriel, didn't you say that you've brought us back to six months before you guys were here before?" He'd told her that, back at the inn.

The Archangel looked at her, his eyes narrowing. Gabriel was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. She'd better not be about to say what he suspected she was about to say.

Oh, but she was. "Well then, we have another mission, don't we?" Gail said brightly. She looked at Paul. "A couple, actually. We could take care of that little matter, while we're here. We could kill Azazel ourselves, before Raphael even gets here." Her heart started to beat faster as she squirmed out of Cas's arms in her excitement. Then she turned to look at him. "We could kill Azazel, Cas! Then, Sam and Dean could have their family back!"

But Cas and Gabriel were both shaking their heads. "What? What's this you're both doing, now?" Gail said tartly.

"You know we can't do that, Gail," Gabriel said in a serious tone. "You're an intelligent woman. You know we can't change something that significant in the timeline."

"Why not? Because of that stupid, so-called Butterfly Effect?" she said, agitated. "So what?" Gail turned to look at Cas again. "They could have their family back, Cas," she said pleadingly.

"Enough," her husband told her angrily. "Don't you think I would love to do that? I've seen first-hand the pain and torment they have been through due to the loss of their parents, and the fact that they have been thrust into the role of Hunters from such young ages. You of all people know how much Sam and Dean mean to me. But it's out of the question. If we were to change anything that major here in the past, as Gabriel says, the consequences to the future could be dire. Any number of scenarios could arise from that act, many of them very undesirable. As difficult as it's been on them over the years, if Sam and Dean had never lost their mother, they would not have become Hunters, and they would never have helped to avert the Apocalypse."

"The Butterfly Effect," Paul said aloud, finally finding his words. "Yeah. Henri's a big science fiction fan. We talked about that, before I left to come here. His books on time travel seem to suggest that if we so much as step on an insect here, it could rebound on our asses in the future."

"Well, I don't know about that, but if I see anything crawl onto this blanket, you guys need to deal with it," Gail quipped. Then she looked at Cas, touching his face. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I shouldn't have said that. I know how much Sam and Dean mean to you. I know that you would do anything you could for them. Forget I said that."

He put his arms around her again, hugging her to him. "I know, my love. I know you love them, too," Cas said softly, kissing her on the forehead.

"The insect thing may be overstating it, but there's validity to the theory," Gabriel said quietly. "If we were going to do anything that game-changing, it would change too much. It's as simple as that."

"Still, I wish I could have seen my father as a hero, just once," Paul said, sighing. "I had no idea he had done any of that."

Cas and Gabriel exchanged glances. They were both silent, but Gail looked from one to the other, suspicious. "What aren't you guys telling us?" she asked.

NOW

Jody was packing for the hospital when Frank came into their bedroom. He just stood there for a moment, not saying anything. She continued what she was doing for another minute or so, and then she looked at him. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to say something?" Jody said irritably. "I can get used to a lot of things if I have to, but you with a closed mouth isn't one of them."

Still, he said nothing. "Is it the boys?" Jody said, her heart skipping a beat. "Are they all right?"

Frank nodded. "No, they're fine, Jodes. Dr. Uxbridge's office called. He cancelled the surgery."

She started to smile. "Well, that's good, isn't it?" she asked her husband.

"He wants to see us," Frank answered evasively.

"What about?" Jody said, approaching him. She was studying Frank's face. "To tell us they've made a big, fat mistake, and there's nothing wrong with me?" She tried a smile on for size. "Great. Then, we can call up...those guys, and tell them they can come home."

Frank frowned. "Who? Who can we call, Jody?" he asked her softly.

"You know. The guys," she replied. "Our son, and his brother. And our friends."

"Tell me our son's name," her husband said, staring her in the face.

"Don't be stupid," Jody snapped. "You'd better call for a babysitter, if we have to get over there."

"What's our son's name, Jody?" Frank persisted.

"I don't know!" she shouted. "Are you happy now? I don't know!"

He nodded briefly, taking his wife in his arms. "OK, Jody. OK. Come on; let's give Bobby a call."

THEN

Cas and Gabriel had taken pity on Paul during their fireside chat, so the next morning, they deviated slightly from the path they'd been on to go deeper into the desert.

"Now, you understand that we cannot communicate with him, or let him see us," Cas was saying to Paul now. "You can observe your father exterminating a Demon, but then, we will have to leave."

Paul nodded. He had been stunned when they had told him last night that his Dad was already here, doing God's work. The men hadn't intended to tell the young Angel about that, but then, Cas had had an attack of conscience. He was the one who had taken the Archangel away from his son, when he had killed Raphael on Earth. Whether or not the Archangel's murder had been of benefit to the human race, it had still been a dishonourable killing, and Cas deeply regretted the circumstances under which it had taken place. The fact that Raphael would never have been allowed to live to bring about the Apocalypse was irrelevant at the moment. This was both much bigger, and much smaller, at the same time. It was about a man who was hungering to see his father as something other than an arrogant bastard who'd thought that he was greater than God. Well, Gabriel and Castiel's Father WAS God, but they could both definitely relate to the bitter pain of disappointment that only a son could feel when he discovered that the father he had looked up to and revered was far from perfect.

Gabriel led the party to the hillside which overlooked the Valley of the Righteous. They dismounted quietly as Cas spoke softly to the horses, telling them to be calm. Gabriel nudged Paul, pointing to the crest of the hill.

The young Angel peered down into the valley and saw his father, dressed in a white robe and sandals, standing over a man and a woman who had black eyes, and who were spewing curses at him.

"Our Master will kill you all," the male Demon snarled.

"Is that so?" Raphael said calmly. "And how is he going to do that, from the prison cell that my Father has built in which to encage him?"

"He will go free," the female said, smiling. "Join us, Raphael."

"That will never happen," the Archangel said.

"He can give you anything that you desire." What the hell was this, now? Paul wondered, puzzled. Another man had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and he was leaning casually against a boulder, smiling at Raphael. But he couldn't be a Demon, Paul realized. He didn't have black eyes.

"And what is it that you think I desire?" Raphael asked the newcomer.

"You dislike humans," the man stated matter-of-factly. "So do we. Lucifer is going to need some good soldiers to send down here and clean house, once he has taken over. You could lead the troops. And if you can bring him some of your compatriots, he will reward you with anything you desire. Power, riches, women...anything."

"You need a new sales pitch, Azazel," Raphael said dryly, and Paul gasped. Azazel?! But he wasn't due to show up for six more months! Paul turned around and beckoned to his companions, and they approached where he was standing.

Gabriel's mouth fell open. He and Cas recognized Azazel immediately, of course. But they were as surprised as Paul was to see him here now.

"I don't need a new sales pitch," the Demon said to Raphael, and his eyes flashed yellow for a moment. "You just need to realize that you are on the losing side of the equasion. We will prevail, eventually. We're all eternal beings here, Raphael."

"Yeah? Well, here's my answer to your proposal," the Archangel said. He put a hand each on the kneeling Demons' heads and spoke a few Latin words, and their skulls caught fire. They screamed in agony, and seconds later, their vessels were reduced to ashes on the ground.

Instead of appearing upset, Azazel merely smiled. "God has given you the power, I see."

"Yes, He has," Raphael replied coolly.

"How does it feel?" Azazel asked him curiously.

"Why don't you come over here, and I'll show you?" the Archangel said, and incredibly, he returned Azazel's smile. But still, Paul was captivated. He'd never seen his father like this before. So calm. So Righteous. So...cool.

"Maybe you should go into the marketplace in town, and smite a few of the merchants there," Azazel said slyly. "Unless you don't mind the fact that your kind are being sold into slavery there, like so much cattle."

"My kind? What do you mean? Angels?" Raphael quipped, and Paul had to clap a hand over his mouth to stop the laugh from escaping. His Dad was being funny? He tried to remember if his father had ever so much as cracked a smile.

"Laugh all you want, but I know it bothers you," Azazel persisted. Then his eyes became yellow again as he grinned. "In fact, you would have been especially interested in a little transaction that took place there yesterday. Two individuals you are personally acquainted with arrived in town, and the very first thing they did was attend the auction, where they bought a whore, and a young black slave." He lifted his head skyward. "Isn't that right, Castiel?"

Azazel snapped his fingers, and the ground shook violently. Gail's feet went out from under her, and she slid down the hill on her backside. Gabriel followed, then Paul, then Cas.

"Ow," Gail said, getting slowly to her feet. Paul took her elbow, helping her. He winced as he put weight on his right leg, but thankfully, it held.

Gabriel was dusting himself off as Raphael said, "Gabriel? Castiel? What are the two of you doing here?"

"Your loving, trusting Father sent them here, to check up on you," Azazel said snidely.

Paul was looking at his father, wide-eyed. Raphael wouldn't know him, of course. This was way before Paul's time. His Dad was looking at him with narrowed eyes. Then the Archangel looked at Gail.

"Did you buy this whore, Gabriel?" he said, with disgust in his voice.

"She is no whore. She is my wife," Cas said through gritted teeth.

"Your wife?" Raphael said with amusement. "What do you take me for, Castiel? I do not know why you feel compelled to cover for Gabriel's transgressions. I don't care if he chooses to run around with loose women. But how can you justify buying a slave?"

"They're white, and they're God's favourites," Azazel said, smirking. "That's how. You think your Father sent you here because He holds you in such high esteem? Guess again, Raphael. He's banished you out here in the hot sun to do a job none of the other ones wanted to do. You're God's slave, Raphael." The Demon looked at the Angels, and grinned that sly, horrible grin. "Just as your son is theirs."

NOW

"You have a massive brain tumor. A Glioblastoma Multiforme, or GBM, for short," Dr. Uxbridge told Jody.

"OK, so why'd you cancel the surgery?" Frank said angrily. "Shouldn't you go in there and get it, then?"

Robert sat back in his chair, trying to think of the best words to use in this situation. He'd been a neurosurgeon for a number of years now, and in his experience, everyone reacted differently when confronted with this type of reality. The patient's husband looked like he was just about ready to leap across the desk and punch the doctor out, while the patient herself just looked pensive. Uxbridge suspected that a part of Jody had actually accepted this reality a long time ago.

"I think what he's trying to tell us is that there's no point," Jody said, confirming the doctor's thought.

The neurosurgeon sighed. "I'm afraid you're right. Despite the fact that I operate on people for a living, I'm reluctant to open someone's skull for no apparent reason. So I sent your film to the country's leading oncologist, and he agrees. The tumor is massive, and it's aggressive. Even if we were to go in there, there would be very little we could do."

"What about a non-surgical option?" Jody asked, even though she was sure she already knew the answer.

"We could try all of that, if you want," Dr. Uxbridge said calmly. "But generally, for a tumor this malignant, all we would be doing was postponing the inevitable."

Jody took a deep breath, letting it out shakily. "How long?"

"People in your age group can usually maintain most of their cognitive function for a year or so after the tumor is discovered," Robert replied, somewhat non-responsively.

"This morning, I forgot my son's name," she said sharply. "How long?"

"If I had to guess, I would say about a year and a half," the doctor said quietly. "You could live longer, if we bombard you with chemotherapy. It all comes down to quality of life, in my opinion. But, it's your choice, of course."

Frank was beyond stunned. He sat there watching their conversation as if it had nothing to do with him. Geez, what a crappy Movie of the Week this was. Or was it one of those hidden-camera shows, maybe? Was a guy with a cheesy grin going to pop his head in the door and tell them they were being pranked? He'd seen that show, the one where a bunch of kids put their friends in horrifying scenarios for TV, scaring the snot out of them for nothing but pure entertainment. This had to be something like that, right? But Jody would never do anything this mean to him, and Frank knew that this morning, she had honestly forgotten Rob's name. There had been other signs too, but Frank had kept himself in total denial about the whole thing. After Cas had said that he didn't know what was going on in Jody's head, Frank had told himself that meant that everything was fine. Because that was what you did. It was much easier to convince yourself that you were being paranoid than it was to face the truth. It was much easier to go about your business, make a lot of bad jokes, and ignore the fact that your wife was dying.

"Screw it," Jody said suddenly. "No operations, no chemo, no drugs. I won't be doing any of that. I'm just gonna go as hard as I can, for as long as I can. I've done my research, and everything I've read indicates that there is a statistical survival rate." She glanced at Frank. Yeah, there was, but it was infinitesimal, about 8 percent. Maybe she wouldn't share those numbers with her husband just yet, though. He looked like he was getting ready to cry, or something.

"I'll leave the two of you alone for a few minutes," Dr. Uxbridge said in a compassionate tone. "You'll probably have some questions, once things have a chance to settle. See my receptionist on your way out, and she'll set up an appointment. I'm sorry, Jody. I'm sorry I've had to be the bearer of such bad news. Come and see me when you're ready, and I'll help you however I can."

The doctor rose from his desk and left the room abruptly. There was no sense in prolonging things. The two of them needed to talk, to start the process towards acceptance.

Jody took Frank's hand. "We need to talk, Pookie."

THEN

It was the oldest cliche in the Bible, wasn't it? Denying someone, in the desert? But he had to do it. He had no choice.

"His son? I don't know what you're babbling on about," Paul said to Azazel. "I'm nobody's son, and I ain't no slave. I'm an Angel, just like they are, and I serve Heaven, not them."

Raphael was staring at Paul now, with an inscrutable look on his face. Paul felt about twelve different emotions, all at once. Pride in his Dad, for smiting the crap out of those Demons and telling Azazel and Lucifer to take a hike. Anger, that his father had never been funny with him. Raphael had only ever taught Paul to be an arrogant dick, because that was all that his father had been, by the time Paul had come into being. And regret, that things hadn't worked out differently.

Cas was struggling now, too. He could see the battle taking place within Paul right now. It was evident in the young Angel's face. And there was one other quality that Cas could see, one that Paul might not even realize was part of the mix: Cas saw love.

Now, Cas was wondering if he should just ignore everything that he and Gabriel had preached to Gail the night before. Maybe they should bring Raphael back with them now, to the current timeline. Then Paul could have his father back. The original, good version. Raphael obviously hadn't yet been corrupted by Azazel, but if they left him here, that was exactly what was going to happen. There would have been no reason for Castiel and Raphael to have been mortal enemies if Azazel hadn't burrowed into Raphael's head, like the filthy cockroach he was, and perverted the Archangel's ideals. But then, a little voice inside Cas's head piped up, telling him that these thoughts he was having were ultimately self-serving. Castiel just wanted to alleviate his own guilty conscience, didn't he? Wasn't that why he was considering the most radical move he could ever make? Why didn't he just join Lucifer and start the Apocalypse, then, while he was at it?

"You see, Raphael? Do you see what they have done to your son?" Azazel said now. "They force him to deny you!"

"Nobody's forcing anybody to do anything!" Gail shouted angrily. "Screw the Butterfly Effect! We should just cut off your head right now, you yellow-eyed bastard!"

Azazel looked coldly at her. "This is none of your business, whore."

Gail looked skyward. "I swear, if one more man calls me a whore today, I'm going to have to take him down!"

As Paul and Gabriel smirked, a sword suddenly appeared in Gail's hand. "Well, well. Would you look at that," she said, starting to smile. "Think fast, sweetie. You're taller than me." She tossed the sword to Cas, who caught it neatly. He advanced on Azazel.

"You can't kill me," the yellow-eyed Demon sneered. "That would mess up your precious timeline."

"I believe I'll risk it," Cas said with a grim smile. He gripped the sword with both hands, like a major-league batter preparing to hit a booming home run.

"You wouldn't dare," Azazel said, but his grin was faltering now. "Your Father would never permit it."

"Haven't you heard? I'm a rebel. A square peg in a round hole. I never do as I'm told. What is the expression? Sometimes, it's easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission." Cas gripped the sword tighter and started his swing.

Azazel disappeared.

Gabriel let out a shaky breath. For a second there, he'd really thought that Cas was going to do it. No wonder his Brother was such a good poker player.

Cas was shaking too, but from anger, not anxiety. It had taken every ounce of his self-control not to do it. Even now, he couldn't actually swear that he would have held up on his swing had Azazel not blinked first.

Raphael was approaching Paul now, scrutinizing his face. "What is your name?" he asked the young Angel.

"Paul," his son said.

"I've always liked that name," Raphael said softly. "So, you are a partner with these men? An equal?"

"He sure is," Gabriel said firmly.

"Well, I'll be damned," Raphael said, in that same soft tone. Then he smiled. "My son, serving with Heaven's Elite." Then, he looked at Gail. "And a woman, too? Those are certainly enlightened times you live in." He looked at Gabriel next. "I don't know what's more surprising; the fact that you are acting responsibly, or the fact that Castiel was finally able to get a woman to marry him." Raphael smiled down at Gail. "You must be a remarkable woman, then. But, don't worry; I won't call you a whore again. I wouldn't want you to - what was that? - 'take me down'."

Raphael stood in front of Paul now. "You're a handsome young man," he told his son. "You must take after your mother, whoever she may turn out to be."

Paul was smiling, but he was crying, too. "Why couldn't you have been like this while I was growing up? I loved you, Dad! All I ever wanted was for you to love me back."

Raphael frowned. "But why on earth would you think I didn't love you?" He looked at Gabriel, mystified. "Why are you here? Really?"

Gabe threw his hands up in frustration. So much for keeping everything on the down-low. Not only had the proverbial cat fought its way out of the proverbial bag, but now, they would have to tell Raphael about his future. The cardinal rule of time travel was that, if you encountered a person whose destiny you could alter, you weren't supposed to tell them about it. He sighed. "Roughly six months from now, Azazel is going to have you convinced that the Apocalypse is a good idea. Father sends me and Castiel to come and get you, and you come back with us, but Azazel lives. Several thousand years from now, you'll find out that that was a really crappy decision, on everyone's part."

"It would appear so, if my own son regards me this way," Raphael said soberly, looking at Paul again. "How bad do I become?"

"Pretty bad," Paul said coolly.

"Tell me something, Paul, if you will," Raphael said to his son. "Are you happy with your present circumstance?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am, Dad," Paul replied. "I'm about to get married."

"Are you? That's wonderful," Raphael remarked. He looked at Cas. "Promise me that you will take good care of my son, Castiel. I know that you and I have never really seen eye to eye on many of Heaven's issues, but you are an honourable man."

Cas's heart sank into his stomach. Yes, he was the "honourable man" who was going to kill Paul's father so dishonourably in the future.

"If both you and Gabriel will promise me that you will do so, you may modify my memory, in a moment," Raphael continued. "I know that our Father must have His reasons for allowing events to unfold the way that they obviously will. As long as I know that my son is happy, I am willing to make the sacrifice." He opened his arms. "Come here, Paul."

Paul walked into his father's embrace, and Gail let out a choked sob. Cas went to her and put his arms around her, handing the sword he still held to Gabriel.

"No matter what I say or how I may act in the future, I am telling you now that I love you," Raphael said to his son.

"I love you too, Dad," Paul said in a thick voice.

A moment later, they broke the embrace, and Paul stepped back. "It was good to meet you," he said, wiping away the tears on his cheeks with the heels of his hands.

"Likewise," Raphael said. He gestured. "Gabriel?"

His Archangel Brother stepped forward. "You know if there was anything we could do - " Gabriel started to say, but Raphael stood up straighter and said, "His Will be done. Get on with it, Gabriel. Please."

Gabriel put his hand on Raphael's head, and Paul's father closed his eyes. Gabriel modified Raphael's memory, erasing all recollection of the encounter. Then he gave Raphael the push, sending him elsewhere in the desert.

They were all silent for a moment, and then Gail said, "Hey, wait a minute. I thought we didn't have any celestial powers here. Then, how come that sword just appeared in my hand? And, how were you able to do THAT?"

"That's Dad's way of letting us know that we did the right thing," Gabriel told her. He looked at Paul. "How're you doing? Are you OK?"

"Honestly? I don't know," Paul replied.

"Fair enough," Gabe said. "This whole thing will probably take you a while to process. Cas and I were just trying to do you a favour. We had no idea Azazel was gonna show up, and do that." He grinned, looking at the sword he was holding in his hand. "I think you win Quip of the Day, Kitten." He cleared his throat, then imitated her in a high falsetto voice, "'I swear, if one more man calls me a whore today, I'm going to have to take him down'!"

Cas gave his wife a squeeze. "Father always did love my darling Gail's sense of humour," he said, his lips twitching.

Gail smiled, but she was looking at Paul with sympathy now. "I hope you're going to come out of this with a positive outlook," she said to him. "I'm someone who knows a lot about father issues, and I've gotta tell you, I would have loved to have had a Dad who was that Good, and that cool."

Paul smiled back at her, but it was a sad, bitter smile. "Maybe one day, I'll be able to look on this day and feel the same way, Boo," he said softly. "But right now, I just feel sad, and mad, and..." He sighed. "I didn't even recognize that man. Henri's been more of a father to me than Raphael ever was. But I realize I owe you guys a debt of gratitude, for showing me that he wasn't always the ignorant son of a bitch I grew up with. Sorry, Gail," he added automatically, as if Henri were here to admonish him about his language.

"Well, we'd better get going," Gabriel sighed. "We've still got a few more days' ride till we get to the cave."

They trudged back up the side of the hill that hadn't collapsed. The horses still stood there calmly, waiting for them. They mounted the animals silently, then rode away.

NOW

Jody squeezed her husband's hand. "When I was a kid in school, I used to put off all of my projects until the last minute," she said to him.

"Jody - " Frank started to say, but she shook her head. "Frank, let me get this out. Please."

So he nodded, and she continued, "My mother used to get on my case about it. She used to say, 'Why do you have to do it the hard way, every time?' And she was right. Of course she was. But the next time I was assigned a project, I would do the same damn thing, time and time again." She sighed. "Then I decided to go into the male-dominated profession of law enforcement, and then, I accepted a position in a small town that would put me in charge of a couple of dozen testosterone-fueled men. The hard way, every time." She smiled sadly at him. "So, it only stands to reason that my brain would grow a tumor that has such a depressing prognosis. But we're not going to worry about that, Frank. We're going to go home, and go about our business. We're going to love each other and our family, and we're going to strive to make the world a better place for our kids, and their kids, too. And when it comes to the point where I can't do those things any more, you're going to kiss me, and hold my hand, and then you're going to let me go, just like we talked about. OK, Pookie? Do we have a deal?"

A tear squeezed out of the corner of Frank's eye and dribbled down his cheek. "Yeah," he told his wife. "We have a deal."

"Then give me a kiss, and then stop being such a crybaby," she said, trying to smile. If they were going to have to deal with such a crap situation, they were going to do it as themselves, she promised herself, and not as some whiny, melodramatic Movie-of-the-Week couple.

"I love you, Jody, and I'll never stop," Frank told her, trying to return her smile. "Besides, considering my cholesterol count and how much I drink, I might just go first."

And now that the obligatory quips had been exchanged, the two of them shared their kiss. Then they rose from their chairs and left the doctor's office.

SPOILIN' FOR A FIGHT

THEN

After several more days of riding, the quartet finally arrived in the region that Leah had referred to as Ramath Lehi, several miles from the Sea of Galilee. There were mountains that rose majestically in the distance with warrens of caves in them, and that was where they were headed.

As they dismounted and the men tied the horses to nearby olive trees, Gail bounced up and down on her feet, trying to wake up her sleeping rear end. Her legs were jelly, and as soon as her butt was less numb, it was going to be sore. Actually, it was a good thing she'd ridden side-saddle this whole time; otherwise, her thighs would have been sore, too. She had no idea how people had done this all the time, back in the day. She looked at Cas and Gabriel with envy. They seemed none the worse for wear. Cas had dismounted nimbly, as usual, and then lifted her down from the saddle. Didn't his body ever get sore?

She felt better when she saw Paul walking back from where they'd tied the horses. He was walking slowly with his legs apart, grimacing.

"Well, hello, Pilgrim," Gail quipped, and Paul looked at her, puzzled. "You're walking like John Wayne," she explained.

"My legs are killing me, and my butt feels like there's a beehive in my pants," he told her, and she laughed. "Oh, you find my pain funny, do you?" he teased her, trying to sound offended.

"Yes!" she said, still laughing. "Misery loves company!"

"Maybe I should just take off these pants and ride side-saddle, like you," he said, nudging her.

"My Kingdom, for a cell phone," Gail joked.

Cas and Gabriel brought the swords over to where the two were standing. "I know you're not used to wielding a weapon of this size," Cas said, handing Gail hers, "but I still want you to have it. When we enter the caves, we'll go single file, and we'll keep you in the middle."

"What are you expecting, Cas?" Paul asked him.

Cas frowned. "Maybe nothing," he replied, squinting off into the distance. "Maybe something."

"Oh. Well, as long as that's clear, then," Paul said dryly. Gabriel's lips twitched. Paul complained of being sore and tired, but Gabe thought the long ride out here after their encounter with Paul's dad had done the young Angel a world of good. He'd had time to turn the incident over in his mind, and now it seemed as though he'd come out the other side of the experience.

"What Cas means is that things have been a little too peaceful," Gabriel remarked. "Back when we were here before, there were rumours that Hell was sending squadrons of Demons to this area, looking for ancient Biblical relics. The jawbone would have been one of those, of course, but it was never found."

"How do you know it was never found?" Gail asked curiously. "How do we know it's not sitting on Crowley's desk right now, being used as a paperweight?"

"Crowley wasn't the King of Hell, then," Cas explained to her. "Hell had no King, and no organizational system. It was merely a fledgling domain at that time, designed to contain the..."

"...Problem children," Gabriel finished for them. "Like Lucifer. He was the worst one, of course, so Dad created the cage for him, and slammed him in there. But then, I guess He felt like He was onto something. That was when He started sending them all to Hell. But they were more like free agents, back then. It wasn't until Crowley got a foothold in the place that they became more like an evil corporation. But, don't get me wrong. The Demons who were roaming around here were ruthless and bloodthirsty. You ever used a sword before, Paul?"

"Naw, man. Not unless you count video games," Paul replied.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. Great. "Cas, you lead off, then we'll have Gail behind you, then Paul, then me. OK?"

Cas nodded. That was the order he had been about to suggest.

"Where did the Demons go, then, before God established Hell?" Gail asked.

"They went to the Underworld," Cas told her. "But, we are wasting time, now. Let's go. Remember, we still have to ride back to Saqqara after this."

Gail and Paul moaned simultaneously. "I wonder if I can get a butt transplant, when we get back," Paul said, making her laugh.

When they got closer to the caves, Gabriel said, "We'll need torches. Cas, keep a lookout. Paul, come with me. I'll show you how to make a torch."

As the two men walked off the dirt road to cut down some tree branches, Gail looked up at Cas. He was scanning the area for any signs of danger, but after a moment, he glanced at her. "Yes, my love?"

"I just wanted to tell you how impressive you are," she said to her husband. "Actually, you and Gabriel, both. But, mainly you. I'll have to tell Liz about him when we get back, and she can heap praise on him. But...you're amazing, Cas. I always feel so protected when I'm with you."

"I'm glad," he said. "So you've forgiven me for what happened in the marketplace?"

"Hey, at least you bought me back," she quipped. "Although I wouldn't read anything into that, if I were you."

Cas laughed softly. "Don't worry," he said lightly. "When it comes to who owns who, I'm quite certain it's the other way around."

"If you didn't have to watch out for bad guys, I would kiss you so hard right now that we could hear the guys groaning about it in the future," Gail said, smiling mischievously.

"And if I didn't have to watch out, I would like that very much," Cas said, answering her smile. But even though he had spared her a glance, his eyes still darted around. Gabriel was right. Things were too quiet.

After a time, Gabriel and Paul came back, holding their swords in one hand and flaming torches in the other.

"Congratulate me," Paul said, grinning. "I just earned my Boy Scout badge in torch-making. Oh, and I also learned how to make fire, without matches or a lighter."

"Way to go, Paul," Gail enthused. "You're now an honourary member of the Tom Hanks survivors' club."

"'Wilson'!" he exclaimed, and the two of them laughed.

"Follow me," Cas said, accepting a torch from Gabriel as Paul carefully handed one to Gail. Once they all had their swords and torches in hand, the group entered the cave slowly and cautiously, walking single file.

"It will begin to get very dark in a moment, as we move away from the mouth of the cave," Cas said, his voice echoing lightly off the walls. "We will proceed with care, but I have to warn you, there may be snakes, vermin, or bats. Stay close to me," he told Gail.

Oh, great. It was a good thing Dean wasn't here. Imagine walking around in the dark with only a torch for illumination, and then feeling something wrap around your leg. Or, like in the catacombs, when Chuck had been scared by that rat. Of course, Cas could tame animals, couldn't he? He'd convinced that rat to take off. But then, what about bats? Gail remembered having seen a bat up close, once. She'd been a little girl, playing alone in the schoolyard, and she'd seen something strange in one of the basement windows. So she'd walked over there, and peered down. There had been what at first glance appeared to be a large rat pressed up against the glass, but then, she had noticed the black wings. It looked like the bat had flown into the glass, and stuck there. It appeared to be dead, but its beady eyes were wide open and so was its mouth, and little Gail could swear she saw fangs in there. Plus, the bat looked angry, as if it wanted to come out of there and attack her, and that thin pane of glass was the only thing that was standing in its way. She had run off home, after that.

Bats. Great. Gail didn't appreciate the mental image. Now, she swore she heard the flap and flutter of bat wings, but it was probably just the rustle of their clothes as they advanced deeper into the dark.

Just as Gail was annoyed with Cas for bringing up the subject of bats, Paul was irrationally annoyed at Gail right now, for being a woman. Paul was slightly claustrophobic, and he also hated the idea of all those creatures lurking in the dark. But he was a male, so he wasn't supposed to show it. Gail could look at them with those big doe eyes of hers, and any one of the three of them would be expected to step in front of her and protect her against...well, anything. Must be nice. Maybe Paul should have asked for a female vessel before coming here. But then again, maybe not. On their ride to Hakeem's place to steal the third horse and the swords, Cas had told Paul about Hakeem's proclivities when it came to the women he bought. Nope. No way. Paul would much rather muck out the stables as a male slave than be subjected to that kind of b.s. as a female.

"Don't be scared, Boo. We'll make sure none of those rotten ol' bats get tangled up in your hair. It's a good thing I don't still have my 'fro. Those bats could've made a real nest in there," Paul said, and Gail laughed softly.

She blessed Paul for trying to distract her with humour. Especially now, because as the dark got even darker, she could distinctly hear the flapping of wings. But it was funny; instead of lots of tiny bat wings, it sounded loud and oddly singular, like just one pair of humongous wings, flapping up and down.

"Gabriel," Cas said sharply.

"Yeah, I hear it too, Cas," the Archangel said, and Gail and Paul could hear the tension in their voices. Oh, geez. What did they know?

The quartet moved into an open area, and Cas lifted his torch high. Gail gasped out loud. There was a large humanoid figure standing there on spindly legs, but with claws for hands and big bat wings, flapping behind It. The creature opened its mouth to reveal a number of razor-sharp fangs.

"Oh, HELL, no," Paul breathed. "I didn't sign up for THIS."

"Stay here," Cas instructed Gail. He rushed forward, thrusting his fiery torch at the creature and then stabbing it with his sword.

"How heroic you are, Castiel. How Holy," the Demon sneered. "I've been waiting for you. I could smell the stench of Righteousness approaching."

"What about ME?" Gabriel said, moving forward.

"You? You're of no use to me," the Demon scoffed. "Actually, the way you've behaved over the centuries, you're one of the last Angels I'd call on."

"Hey! At least he's not butt-ugly, like you are!" Paul yelled at the Demon, and Gabriel couldn't help but smirk. "Thanks for sticking up for me, my Nubian friend," Gabe said. "And, speaking of sticking..." He ran forward and joined Cas in the fight.

The Demon was fighting back, roaring loudly and flapping Its wings. One of the wings knocked Cas off his feet, and he went crashing into the wall. Gabriel thrust his burning torch at the Demon's other wing and scorched it, and the creature bellowed in pain, the sound echoing off the cave walls.

"That's our cue, Boo," Paul said to Gail, and the two of them ran forward, torches and swords flailing.

The monster fought all four of them for a few minutes, but then the quartet started to get the upper hand. As they stabbed the Thing, It oozed black goo, and then eventually, It fell to Its knees, and Gabriel cut off Its head.

"Let's light this guy's fire," the Archangel said to the others. "Just to make sure." They all applied the fire from their torches to Its shell, and the whole thing went up like dry tinder, leaving only ashes.

They all stood there for a moment, panting from their exertions. Finally, Gail said, "Wow. If that's what passes for a bat around here, I don't want to see a snake, or a rat."

Cas smiled grimly. "Are you all right, my love?" he asked her.

"Never mind me; what about you?" she responded. "That thing threw you pretty hard."

Cas shrugged. "I actually got off fairly easily. If there had not been four of us, It would have been far more difficult to kill. That was one of the ancient Demons; a member of Legion."

"Geez, give me the bastards with the black eyes and human forms anytime," Paul said, shuddering. "And before you guys say anything, I realize the irony of what I just said."

"No irony here," Gabriel said firmly. "The past is the past. You're one of the good guys now. End of story."

"Look," Cas said now, lifting his torch. He was pointing to the wall of the cave, where the Demon had thrown him. He had minimized it to Gail, but Cas was feeling a sharp pain between his shoulder blades, and now, he saw why.

There was a Byzantine cross hanging from the cave wall. Cas must have struck its sharp edge.

"There's another one over there, and another, on the opposite side," Gabriel pointed out. "Seems a little convenient, don't you think?"

"Wait a minute. I've seen this, in a video game," Paul piped up.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Again, with the video games? We're in 2500 BC, and you're talking about a video game?"

But Cas was looking around the chamber they were standing in, now. "If we're in the right place, Leah spoke of the 'Sacred Pit'. But I don't see anything like that." He looked at Paul. "What did you see, in your video game?"

"You have to turn the crosses, either clockwise or counter-clockwise, and a wall opens up," Paul responded. "But you have to do it simultaneously, or it won't work."

"Then let's try that," Cas said. "We've got nothing to lose."

Gail wasn't so sure. In the movies, there were always weird things that happened in these types of places. What if they turned those crosses the wrong way? Would they release a dragon, or would some sharp spikes come out of the walls, impaling them all? Or had she just seen too many of Dean's damn action movies?

Cas must have been thinking along those same lines, because he said, "Why don't the three of you each take a cross, then, and we'll see what happens? I will stand guard with my weapon, just in case."

His companions moved to stand beside the crosses, and Paul said, "Clockwise?"

"No. Counter-clockwise," Gabriel said.

"What do you say, my darling?" Cas asked Gail. "You're the tie-breaker."

Great. Fiery dragon death, here we come, she thought. Eeny, meenie, miney..."Counter-clockwise," she said.

They all turned their crosses to the left. Gail felt a click, and suddenly, the stone floor of the cave opened up, across from where they were standing.

"There you go. One Sacred Pit," Paul said, pleased with himself. He let go of his cross, but as soon as he did, the fissure started to close.

"It looks like you'll all have to hold your positions," Cas said, as Paul hurried back. "I will descend into the pit, and see what I can see."

"Be careful, sweetie," Gail said, her forehead wrinkling with concern.

"I will," he assured her. He peered down into the crevice, then slipped into it and disappeared.

After a tense few minutes, they saw Cas's sword appear. He hoisted himself up onto the lip of the crevice holding his weapon in one hand, and part of a skull in the other. They waited until he was fully out of the crevice and standing on his feet, and then all three of his companions rushed over to him.

"Where's your torch?" Gabriel asked him.

"I doused it," Cas replied. "Once I saw the jawbone, I didn't need it any more. I thought it was far more important to keep my sword at the ready."

"Is that it? Really?" Gail said with awe, eyeing the jawbone he held in his hand.

"Yes, it's the genuine article," Cas replied. "Now, let's hurry and leave this place, before any other creatures show up."

They left the cave, with no further incident. Then they rode the horses to the Sea of Galilee, to give them a drink. Gail washed her face and hands in the water, making nervous jokes about baptism as Gabriel laughed.

A short while later, they began the long ride back. But they were in high spirits, because half of their mission was now complete.

NOW

Michelle Delacroix was excited. She was finally going to go to France. Paris, to be exact. She'd been wanting to go there all her life. It was the perfect destination for her. Art, culture, good food, great wine. Boutiques. And as a bonus, she spoke French. Perhaps it was a slightly fractured, Creole version of the language, but it was French all the same.

Her plan was to combine business with pleasure. The Delacroix name still held some cachet in certain circles, and ever since Michelle had opened up her Rape Crisis centre, she'd been making the rounds at cocktail parties and hosting some fundraisers, trying to get the wealthy families in New Orleans to open up the purse strings. Then she'd expanded to other cities in the state, and then some surrounding states. But you could only beat so many bushes until you had to expand your scope.

So she had called in a couple of markers, and she'd been able to set up a fancy fund-raising dinner and auction in Paris, for the city's most elite, high-profile citizens. She'd already received confirmations from celebrities, socialites, and the leaders of three of the major political parties. Paris was set to elect a new President in the spring, and right now, the candidates were out there, pressing the flesh. And there was no better photo op for a male politician than to be photographed at a fundraiser for a centre that provided shelter and counselling for women who had been assaulted. Paris was the city of romance, and all three of the leading male candidates had made it well known that any sort of violence against women was unacceptable, and would not be tolerated by their administration.

Autumn in the City of Lights. Michelle couldn't wait.

"Linda, I'd like you to meet my grandparents, Milo and Nanette. This is the lady I told you about. Paul's fiancee, Linda," Henri said, smiling.

Handshakes were exchanged, and the four Angels sat down in the parlour of the couple's house in Heaven. Like most abodes there, it was modelled after the place where they'd been happiest on Earth; their modest house in Toronto, Canada. Before the War, and the terrible things that had happened overseas.

"Linda wanted to meet the two of you, because I talk about you so often," Henri continued. "We were going to wait until Paul got back, but - "

" - But I'm going stir crazy, worrying about him," Linda finished. "No e-mails or texting, in 2500 BC."

"Henri told us about that," Nanette said, shaking her head slowly. "Time travel. It's so hard to imagine. In our day, there weren't even such things as computers, or cellular phones. It all seems so unreal."

No kidding, Linda thought. In one of those paradoxes that Heaven seemed to feature on a regular basis, Henri's grandparents looked like themselves, but the World War II version of themselves. On the other hand, Henri looked exactly the same as he had when he had died. Therefore, his grandparents looked younger than he did. Ah, the mysteries of the Afterlife.

"I meant to tell you what I saw, on that computer you gave us," Milo said to his grandson.

Henri was amused. "Ummm...is there any way you can narrow that down, Grandpop?"

"Don't smart off to me, Boy," Milo said irritably. "Here, I wrote it down."

As Henri debated whether he should tell his grandfather that the purpose of having a computer was so that you didn't have to write things down any more, Milo produced the piece of paper. "I know how you've been following Parisian politics, and after your experiences with Cas and the others there, I thought I would take a look. And, you know what I found?"

"No. What?" Henri inquired.

"One of the political parties that's got a strong lead right now is the Far Right, La Partie Nationale Patriotique," Milo said, frowning.

"Yes, I know, Grandpop," Henri replied patiently. He looked at Linda. "The Patriotic National Party."

"You know, believe it or not, I could have figured that out on my own," she said sassily, and Nanette laughed.

Milo's lips twitched briefly at that, but he went on, "I see what you were talking about, Henry. I looked on the Google, and did some research. There are a few other, smaller nations in Europe that have elected Far Right governments in recent months, and their leaders have stated that they will fully support the PNP Party, should they come into power. And some of these leaders have suggested that if France goes Far Right, it will become the new Roman Empire."

Henri frowned deeply, but Linda inquired, "What does that mean, exactly?"

Milo was silent for a moment, and then he said, "The leader of the PNP is a charismatic, older gentleman. He is very charming and urbane. A bit of a playboy, by all accounts. But, the French like that sort of thing in their male leaders. Although, conversely, not in their female leaders."

"Oh, don't even get me started on THAT double standard," Nanette said sharply, and Linda nodded her approval. Henri made a mental note to bring Gail over sometime, to meet his Grand'mere. He had a feeling they would be kindred spirits.

"Anyway," Milo continued, unperturbed by the interruption, "this man, Benoit is his name, has the French citizens all riled up about terrorism. I'm not necessarily saying he's wrong. We all know about the losses those poor people have suffered. But, I question the way he's going about his business. His staff is mostly young and clean-cut, and they all rhapsodize about how this Benoit is going to eliminate terrorism. They have slogans like France First, Protection For The French, France Strong, Strength At The Borders, and Execute The Terrorists, Not The Citizens."

Henri winced. "Those last two are a little harsh, aren't they?"

"Of course they are," Milo said mildly. "But that's the way the tide is turning. People are fed up with feeling afraid to walk down the street, or go anywhere that there might be a large gathering of people. Might be we all know something about that," he added, looking at his wife. Nanette's lips pursed tightly. Yes, she certainly did. It was a quick walk to the store that had sent her here to Heaven in the first place.

"We'll have to keep an eye on the situation, then," Henri said decisively. "Benoit, eh? What's his last name? His background?"

"I don't really know," Milo replied vaguely. "I tried to find out more about him, but my computer got stuck, so I just turned it off."

Henri smiled. He couldn't help it. It was funny how the older generation were so afraid of modern technology, sometimes. Well, it could have been worse. At least his Grandpop hadn't thrown the thing out. "It probably just froze, because you were pushing too many keys at once," Henri said helpfully. "I can take a look at it for you."

"In a while," Milo said, looking at Linda. "I want to visit with our guest, first. Have you made any wedding plans, Linda?"

"Not yet," she replied. "I'm just waiting for Paul to get back, and then we can discuss it more. Gabriel said they'll all probably need a week or so to recover, though. Apparently, a trip of that magnitude can really take its toll."

"I can just imagine," Nanette said, smiling. "I used to get exhausted just driving from Toronto to Hamilton."

Henri smiled inwardly. His grandparents may look young, but they acted like grandparents, all right. Only a grandmother could equate a car ride with travelling back in time.

Linda's mind was wandering now. Paul and the others had been gone for nearly two weeks. How were things going? And how long before she should start getting concerned?

Benoit was having a staff meeting, strategizing for his campaign. Now that he'd won his party's leadership and handpicked the individuals he wanted for his team, he wanted to make sure to use the people he'd taken from Vincent's compound to their full potential. He and Dr. Roarke had brought eight of them back to Paris, and they had been with him ever since. He paid the seven adults handsomely to work on his staff, and had set them up in lush accommodations. And, the little boy? He was arguably the most powerful of them all, and he was living in Benoit's own mansion, having the time of his young life. The adoption papers were being drawn up right now, so that the sob story Benoit was concocting for the press would have a paper trail to back it up.

The campaign was heating up, but Benoit was confident that his time had finally arrived. Next spring, he would be President of France, and then the Master Plan could begin.

FROM THE BURIAL GROUND

THEN

When the four of them arrived back in the town, the horses needed to rest, and Cas and Gabriel wanted to talk strategy.

Saqqara was only a couple of hours' ride due north of the town, so the timing didn't concern the men as much as what they might encounter, when they got there.

"What's the deal with Anubis?" Paul asked, frowning. "He can't be worse than that bat-thing we faced down in the cave."

"Uh...you know he's an Egyptian God, right?" Gabriel said dryly.

"So, what's that mean, exactly?" Paul persisted.

"It means that he has powers, and we have none," Cas said bluntly. "It means that he stands about ten feet tall, with claws, sharp teeth, and a bad attitude. His sole purpose is to protect the pyramid from intruders, such as ourselves. Our swords will be mere pinpricks to Anubis."

"Great. Just great," Paul fumed. "Then, what are we supposed to do?"

"Make him angry," Cas replied matter-of-factly. "Fight him, hit him, and hurt him. Threaten him with annihilation. Then, if none of that works, we will tell them that God the Father will destroy the Underworld if he does not allow us safe passage out of the Pyramid."

"Oh, well, if that's the big threat, why wouldn't we just lead off with that?" Paul asked, confused.

"Because it's a straight bluff," Cas said calmly. "We have to make it sound as if God will really do that, as a last resort. But, He will not, of course. The Father is no longer in Heaven, and Bobby Singer cannot destroy the Underworld."

"OK, genius," Gabriel said to Cas sarcastically. "What if he calls the bluff? What do we do then?"

Cas smiled grimly. "I'm fully expecting him to call our bluff. That's when I'll show him this." He opened the bag that was dangling from his waist, revealing the jawbone.

Gail was puzzled. "But...isn't that supposed to come back with us to our time, so you can kill Raguel with it?"

"Of course it is," Cas replied, "but Anubis will not know that. However, as soon as he sees it, he will call for assistance. At least, that is what I'm banking on."

"Assistance?" Paul echoed, his eyes narrowing.

Gabriel was starting to smile. "You wouldn't happen to be talking about a certain sibling of his?"

Cas nodded. "Exactly. He will call on Ammit. She will come to his aid, and I will cut off her claws. I will kill her with one of her own talons, and Gabriel will kill Anubis with the claw of Bathshear that Leah gave me." He reached into his tunic and took off the necklace, handing it to the surprised Archangel. "Try to retain that, if you can," Cas told Gabe. "It's of sentimental value to her."

"And what will WE be doing, while you two are being the Dynamic Duo?" Paul asked.

"Gail will be taking down the Pyramid Texts," Cas answered him, reaching into the pocket of his pantaloons for an etching instrument. He handed it to her. "You might have the most difficult job of all, my love. You will have to etch the markings, exactly as they appear, onto a piece of stone that we can bring back with us for translation."

"Terrific. I'm the world's first stenographer," she groused. "So much for the glass ceiling."

"Hey, when we first got here, you were mistaken for a member of the world's oldest profession," Gabriel said with a grin. "So I'd say that's a step up, wouldn't you?"

Gail gave him a baleful look. "What do I etch the Texts ON?"

"We'll find a nice, flat stone for you, nearer to the Pyramid," Cas said, smiling at the look on his wife's face. If Cas knew Gail well, and he did, Cas was sure that she was extremely anxious to get back to the present time. Truth be told, so was Cas. There were way too many perils here that he couldn't protect her from. And, speaking of which... "Paul, you will have the most important job of all," Cas continued. "I would like you to stand guard over Gail, just in case we receive any other surprise visitors. Can you do that for me, please?"

"Yeah, sure, Cas," Paul replied softly. "Sure I will."

Shortly afterwards, the four of them started off for Saqqara.

NOW

Vincent was sitting in Becky's living room drinking coffee, waiting for her to change her outfit. Ever since the two of them had met in the studio the day of her cover shoot, Becky had come to look on him as a father figure of sorts. He'd discovered that she was a mainly sweet girl with patches of sour, who had limited intelligence, and seemed to believe that the world revolved around her, and her needs. Actually, Vincent could completely relate to that part of her personality. What he couldn't stand about her was how empty-headed she was. When Becky had first invited Vincent to her home and gone upstairs to change, as she was doing now, he had meandered around her living room, looking idly at the wooden bookshelf standing in one corner. At least, the structure was supposed to be used for books. But Becky had stacks of magazines on the shelves, a few knick-knacks, several framed photos, and exactly one book. Vincent had stared at it, astonished, and then taken it down from the shelf, holding it almost reverently. Rowena's spell book. He hadn't seen it for centuries. What on earth was bubble-headed Becky doing with it? She had a gold mine right here, at her fingertips.

So he had asked the girl about it when she'd come downstairs, and Becky had sheepishly advised that she had tried one of the spells in it, with no result. Then she had shown him the page in question, blushing a little.

Vincent had looked closely at the page, and then he'd rolled his eyes. "What's this?" he'd said, pointing to the ingredient she'd messed up. Becky told him what she'd actually bought instead of what she should have obtained, and Vincent had laughed until tears had come to his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so amused. So he'd decided to proceed with his plan. It didn't really matter if Becky was stupid. She was only a means to an end, anyway. Besides, he liked the fact that she was self-centered, obsessive, and gullible. That was just the combination of traits he could work with. He'd encouraged Becky to tell him about her adventures in the modelling world, and Vincent had learned to his delight that Becky wasn't above a little backstabbing to get what she wanted. Worked for him.

She came downstairs now, wearing one of the outfits that Vincent had picked out for one of her cover shoots. He'd taken over as her manager, and he'd successfully negotiated a deal for Becky that included a higher salary, and the option to keep the clothes she'd worn in the magazine photos.

Becky was wearing tight jeans, and a crop top that showed just a little creamy skin, right around her belly button. She'd also re-applied the bright red lipstick he'd suggested. Vincent looked at her approvingly. She was so young, so fresh. Sam Winchester was about to be a very lucky man. Or, so he would believe.

"Come sit down beside me, honey," Vincent said, and Becky joined him on the couch. "You look very pretty."

Becky smiled. "Thanks. I can't wait for Sam to see me on the cover. You and Rick made me look hot."

"So what's the plan, Becky?" Vincent asked her. "What's going to happen after he sees you on that magazine? IF he sees you on that magazine."

Her smile faltered. "What do you mean, 'if' he sees me?"

Vincent smirked. "Let's face it; the Winchesters aren't the kind of guys who hang around magazine racks, checking out the latest fashions."

Becky knew that, but..."There are a lot of people who know me," she protested vaguely. "Somebody will see me, and they'll show him." But even as she was saying it, Becky realized that might never happen. A lot of their mutual acquaintances were Angels, and Becky was out of the loop now.

Vincent sighed internally. You could lead an airhead to water, but you couldn't make her think. "And once Sam sees you looking all cute and sexy on the cover of your magazine, what then?"

Becky's lipsticked mouth opened, and then closed again. Truthfully, she had only thought as far as that goal. "I don't know," she admitted.

"Let me help you out, Becky," Vincent said magnanimously. "Money and a dream job are great, but you've got to have love in your life, too. Am I right?" As she nodded, he took her hand. "I'm going to help you get Sam."

"But, how?" Becky wailed. "Even if I get the love potion right next time, I don't know how I'd even give it to him. I can't really hang around the bunker any more, not without a reason. And he and Dean are on the road a lot, anyway."

"We'll figure something out," Vincent said. He pretended to think for a moment. "What do you think Sam wants most of all, Becky? What's the most important thing to him?"

"Dean," she replied without hesitation. "Family."

"Family," Vincent mused out loud. Then he started to smile. "I think we can work with that."

THEN

On the ride to the Royal Pyramid at Saqqara, Gail asked Cas about his prior references to the Underworld.

"Yeah, I was wondering about that, too," Paul remarked, riding up closer to the couple so that he could hear. "How come I've never heard about it before?"

"Because, as realms go, it's more legend than reality," Cas replied. "I believe that it does exist in some form, but if it does, no soul has ever come back from it. The ancient Egyptians believed that that was where their souls went after they died, and they were of the belief that the people and possessions they were buried with would follow them to the Afterlife."

"How does the Underworld differ from the Netherworld?" Gail asked, still puzzled.

Cas and Gabriel exchanged glances. "We're not really sure," Gabriel said, taking up the narrative. "We think Dad meant the Netherworld to be more like Heaven. Think: deluxe accommodations at the Waldorf. That's why only the elite were supposed to go there, as a reward for exemplary service to Heaven. But somewhere along the line, it became a sterile, kind of bastardized version of what God intended it to be."

"It IS very drab and colourless there," Cas confirmed. "To exist there alone is more like Hell than an eternal reward." He took the horse's reins in one hand and slipped the other arm around Gail's waist, giving her a gentle squeeze. Cas would never forget when he had been there, and Gail had told him that Death had brought her to the house in which he had resided. Cas hadn't even known who she was. But he remembered the terrible, empty feeling of leading a loveless, meaningless existence there.

Gail remembered that too, of course. She would never forget. She pressed Cas's arm closer to herself, as if to reassure herself that he was still right there with her.

They rode on in silence until they got to the part of the desert where the King's Pyramid was. Gail was used to seeing triangular pyramids from their trip to modern-day Egypt, but this particular structure was more cone-like in its appearance. It looked just as vast in scope as the others she'd been to, but the fact that there was nothing and no one else in sight made it seem more forbidding, somehow.

There was nothing to tie the horses to, just flat, dusty sand, and stones. So Cas spoke softly to the horses, telling them to stay calm, and wait for the group to return.

While he was doing that, the others fanned out, looking for a slab of stone that Gail could use to etch the markings on. Paul pried one out of a sand dune and showed it to Gabriel. "Yeah, that should do it," the Archangel said, clapping Paul on the shoulder. The younger Angel grinned. He'd actually grown pretty fond of Gabriel. The four of them had spent a considerable amount of time together by now, and Paul felt closer to all of them, as a result. Gabriel and Paul were actually a lot more alike than it might seem on the surface. Both men covered the certain so-called "un-manly" feelings they had with bluster and bravado. But Paul had noticed that there was a lot more to Gabriel than advertised. When he needed to, Gabe could take care of business. He and Cas made a pretty formidable team. Paul had even warmed to Cas a little; although the two of them would never be what Paul would consider friends, exactly, he had respect for Cas, and that was just as important. Paul had thought that seeing his father again might reawaken the feelings of resentment he'd had towards Cas for Raphael's murder, but somewhat paradoxically, it had turned out to be just the opposite. The version of Raphael that had supported the Apocalypse would never have been allowed to live. Paul knew that, now. The father Paul had known had been an arrogant dick of a man, and if Paul was to be dead honest with himself, that version of Raphael was someone he didn't miss.

And then, there was the way that Cas and Gail were together. Now that Paul and Linda had fallen in love and were engaged, Paul understood Cas and Gail a lot better. He'd always liked Gail, even when he'd been a free agent for Hell, playing both sides against the middle. She was small but she was spunky, and she made it clear that she would take crap from no man. Not Lucifer, not Crowley, not even Castiel. Paul felt as if he and his little Boo were coming from the same place, even though they were basically diametric opposites, in a lot of ways. In fact, the first time they had met, they had joked about that song by John Lennon, the one that stated that a woman was the "N-word" of the world. And, as they had both experienced in the marketplace when the four of them had first gotten here, that notion definitely had merit.

Paul saw the tender and solicitous way that the couple were with each other, and it had softened his heart a little. He knew that Linda thought highly of the both of them, and of Gabriel, too. And Paul thought highly of Linda's opinion. She wasn't the sort of woman who held a lot of people in great esteem, not unless they had earned it.

"What do you think, Boo?" Paul said, handing the stone to Gail. "Is that a good enough steno pad for you?"

"Sure, why not? I've had tons of experience carving things into stone," she quipped.

The men all grabbed their swords, and the three torches they had brought back from the cave. Gail had the stone in one hand, and the etcher in the other. Cas had said that keeping the stone intact was the most important thing. After she had recorded the Texts, he wanted her holding the stone with both hands, so it didn't break. Gail could see the sense in that, but she also knew that if she saw one of her companions needing her help, calligraphy would have to take a back seat.

"Ready?" Gabriel said. "Let's go see the King."

NOW

Casey logged on to his computer to check the site, just like he'd done every day for a month now. Once he'd opened up the screen to see the bids, his heart sank with disappointment. No activity since last time, and in fact, a couple of bids had been removed. It didn't look like there was anybody who was seriously interested in purchasing what he was trying to sell. Maybe it was just too hard for people to believe that it was actually Blackbeard's skull up for bids, or maybe they just didn't care.

At first, Casey had intended to just keep the thing in his room, as a conversation piece. He didn't really even know if it was authentic or not, but he definitely couldn't rule it out. Maybe it would even help him with the girls. There must be some chicks who would think that was pretty badass. He'd checked Google, and there were stories that suggested if you drank out of the thing, something magical would happen.

But before he'd had the chance to find out, Casey's brother Greg had come to his big brother's room, crying because their mom had told him that there wasn't enough money to send him to college. Casey had known there was no chance for HIM to go to college, even if he'd wanted to, but he'd had higher hopes for Greg. His younger brother was extremely smart. Like, brilliant, change-the-world smart. But they were just an average family, with a modest income.

Then Casey got to thinking. He'd seen all kinds of things up for sale on eBay, some of the more unusual items going for pretty hefty amounts. So he'd told Greg he was going to see what he could do, and he'd listed the skull. But so far, the bidding hadn't exactly been fast and furious. Casey sighed. He guessed he was gonna have to tell Greg to forget it.

But, wait: what was this, now? A bid from Lebanon, Kansas came in as Casey had been staring at the screen. Lebanon? What the hell kind of name was that, for someplace in America? Casey minimized the screen and looked the place up. Yeah, there it was, all right. He went back to look at the bid. Now, he was in business. It was high enough that he would have to take it seriously. So he e-mailed user name Necromancer, telling the bidder that if he, or she, was serious, they could talk.

Vincent sat back in the chair, grinning. At around this same time tomorrow, he would have the genuine article in his hands. He had sweetened the bid to include the cost of overnight shipping, and given the kid Becky's address. He'd been spending so much time at her place lately that he might as well be living there.

The fact that he had been cheated out of the skull had been gnawing away at Vincent. He didn't like to lose, and it rankled him to think that they were all laughing at him. His relationship with Becky would provide the vehicle for Vincent to have the last laugh, but still, he hadn't been satisfied. Vincent wasn't the type of man who handled delayed gratification very well. So, until he orchestrated Becky and Sam's date, Vincent was determined to take possession of the skull and have the vision that he had been denied. There were still the Coffin Texts to find, and the Book of Life, too.

Becky had taken Vincent's story at face value. He had told her that he was sending away for a magical object that was going to help her land Sam for good. And while that wasn't directly true, Vincent was going to help her hook up with Sam anyway, because it suited Vincent's purposes to do it.

"Do you want another cup of coffee?" Becky asked him now.

"No, I think we need something a bit stronger," Vincent said affably. "We need to drink a toast, to you and Sam, hooking up."

Becky giggled. She still wasn't exactly sure how Vincent's plan was supposed to work, but she trusted him. He was being so nice, to help her like this. He said he understood how painful it was to love somebody who didn't seem to love you back, and he had touched the black mark on his face when he'd said that. It was too bad; for an older guy, Vincent would have been pretty good-looking, if it wasn't for that mark. Becky wondered how he'd gotten it, but she didn't quite have the nerve to ask him. But just the fact that he cared enough about her to want to see her happy made Becky feel affection for him.

She went to the kitchen to get a bottle of wine.

THEN

Anubis lifted his head and roared, and the sound was deafening, bouncing off the walls of the tomb.

Gail grimaced, but she didn't dare stop what she was doing. She was about three-quarters through the Texts, and Cas had yelled at her to keep going. Paul was standing guard beside her, holding his torch up so she could make out the markings on the Pyramid's wall.

Gabriel and Cas had been fighting Anubis for a while now, and the Egyptian God had barely suffered a scratch, from what Gail had been able to discern. She'd kept looking nervously behind her to where the men were fighting the enormous dog-faced creature, but Paul had urged her to concentrate on the markings. They all had a job to do here, and she'd better do hers, he'd said. So Gail had resumed, but not before eliciting Paul's promise that he would get over there and join the fight, if it looked like the guys were in trouble.

So as Gail was etching the symbols as quickly as she could, Paul had been giving her a play-by-play description of the fight, sort of like a sports announcer would. She would have to remember to find that funny, once they all got out of here. And it was going exactly the way that Cas had predicted it would. They had engaged with, then annoyed, and then enraged Anubis. And when Cas had told the creature that God was going to destroy the Underworld if Anubis didn't stand down, the Egyptian God had laughed.

"You're bluffing, Castiel," It had said scornfully. How was it that everyone seemed to know her husband? Gail had wondered.

Cas had insisted, but Anubis wasn't taking the bait. So then, Cas had shown It Samson's weapon, and that was when Anubis had bellowed.

It wasn't anger that had prompted the cry; it was fear. The legendary jawbone was the only weapon save for a Demon God's claw that could kill him, Anubis realized. So he had bellowed out loud, then shouted some words in ancient Sumerian, asking for assistance.

To Castiel's surprise, not one, but two beings popped into the tomb.

"You summoned for my help, brother?" Ammit said. She looked at the Angels, and her jaw dropped open. Angels? What were THEY doing here? Ammit had the head of a dog, as well. There was no need to take a vessel for family.

But Castiel and Gabriel barely registered that fact, because it was the other individual whose sudden appearance had paralyzed the men with shock.

"You bellowed, Anubis?" Metatron said dryly.

NOW

They were on their second glass of wine now, and Vincent felt like Becky was relaxed enough for him to do his thing. So he took her hand and said, "Look into my eyes, Becky. Do you trust me?"

"Yeah, I do," she responded.

"And do you trust that I know what's best for you?" he pressed her.

"Yes," she replied, and her eyes widened. Vincent was mesmerizing her now. It was a talent he'd pretty much had all his life, but when he'd been ordained as a Voodoo Priest, Vincent had elevated it to an art form. There was a reason he'd fathered so many children. He started to stroke Becky's arm with one long finger now, up and down, and up and down. She glanced down at what he was doing, and Vincent squeezed her hand painfully. "Look into my eyes," he said sharply.

Becky did, and her pupils began to dilate. "You're a virgin, aren't you, honey?" he said softly.

"I'm waiting for Sam," Becky stated tonelessly. "I only want to be with Sam."

Vincent nearly rolled his eyes, but he had her now, and he didn't want to break the connection. But, he couldn't believe what an idiot she was. Becky was young, cute, and round in all the right places. She could be out there, leading men around by their private parts, getting anything she wanted. But instead, she was living here like a nun, saving it for a guy who didn't even want it. Vincent held no particular feeling for Sam Winchester one way or the other, but Gail's father knew that Sam would never be interested in being Becky's boyfriend. She was way too stupid for the likes of Sam. And she was also way too stupid to KNOW that she was too stupid for Sam.

"You must really love him," Vincent went on, and Becky smiled warmly. "Yeah, I do," she acknowledged. "I've loved him for years."

"But you also have needs," Vincent said silkily, moving his hand further up her arm. "It must be frustrating sometimes."

"Yeah, it is, sometimes," Becky said sadly. "I used to let Chuck kiss me once in a while, but that was it. Kevin and I used to make out, too, but when he tried to talk me into doing it, I said no. We came close once, though. He was at my place in Heaven, and he was French kissing me, and he had his hands under my top. I had my eyes closed, pretending he was Sam. But then he talked, and he wrecked it. So I told him to leave, and then we broke up."

Vincent was touching her breast lightly now, and Becky merely smiled. She was probably picturing Sam right now. Actually, Vincent could have done a quick spell to change his own appearance to that of Sam Winchester's, if he'd been serious about seducing Becky. But that would be just like taking a diaper off of a baby. Or at least, Vincent imagined that it would. As if he would ever do something that disgusting. But the analogy still held. If Vincent had put Sam's face on, Becky would break a speed record laying back and putting her legs up in the air. But Vincent's intention was merely to prime the pump right now. Plant the seed, so to speak.

"You've been overthinking this whole thing, Becky," Vincent said, trying to keep a straight face. His hand went between her legs. "All you have to do is open these up for him. Do it, honey." Becky spread her legs, and Vincent rubbed her gently through her jeans. "You can close your eyes now," he told her, and she did. Vincent took her hand and put it on himself. "This is what you need to do, right here," he exhorted her. "You're way too stupid to get Sam, but if you open your legs for him, and do all those things you've read about online..."

Becky's eyes flew open, and she frowned. "But even if we go to bed together, then what?" she asked Vincent. She tried to take her hand back, but he grabbed it with his other hand and held it against his crotch, squeezing her painfully again. She winced.

"I'll tell you when you can stop," Vincent said coldly. "You need all the practice you can get." He pushed against her hand, and Becky whimpered. "Oh, don't do that," Vincent said irritably. "It's bad enough that you're an idiot; don't be a whiner, too. If you want to get Sam, you have to be a selfish bitch. You have to go big, Becky."

"How? What do you mean?" Becky asked him. Vincent was pleased to hear that the pleading, whiny tone had gone out of her voice. She sounded more...interested, now. Calculating, even. That was more like it.

He took his hand away from her, telling her that she could stop touching him now. That had been fun, but Vincent had a point to make.

"You're going to give him a potion, you're going to take him to bed, and when you wake up in the morning, you're going to be pregnant with Sam Winchester's baby," Vincent told her, smiling.

THEN

"Metatron!?" Cas exclaimed. "What are YOU doing here?"

Gail's head snapped up. WHAT? They had to be kidding her with this! Metatron was dead. Lucifer had killed him. But this was 2500 BC, not the present day. Of course Metatron would be alive in this day and age. But why was he here now? She continued to etch, but Gail urged Paul to keep her apprised of what he was seeing. If Metatron showed any signs of aggression, it would be on.

"I'm God's Scribe, Castiel," Metatron said mildly, as if it should be obvious. "I'm the one who Father entrusted with the official written accounts of the Underworld, and its denizens. Anubis called out for my help, because I'm his creator."

"You didn't create squat," Gabriel said angrily. "Dad did."

"Gabriel," Metatron said, smiling indulgently at the Archangel. I'm surprised to see you here. Shouldn't you be out there somewhere, drunk on wine and chasing girls? I'm our Father's proxy. It's me who should be asking the two of you what YOU'RE doing here."

"Castiel has the jawbone," Anubis said, looking at his sister. "Be very careful."

"Jawbone?" Ammit echoed. "What jawbone?"

But Metatron's eyebrows had shot up to his hairline. "THE jawbone?" he said, astonished. "Samson's weapon?" He started to smile. "That's excellent. Hand it over, Castiel."

Cas smiled grimly. "That will never happen."

"Oh, no?" Metatron said, continuing to smile. "We'll see about that." He waved his hands, and both Gabriel and Cas went flying across the chamber. "I thought so," he said smugly. "They have no powers here," Metatron told the Egyptian God and Demon Goddess. He pointed to Cas. "Fetch," he said to Ammit. "There's a good doggie."

She glared at him, but Ammit went over to where Cas lay, dazed from the attack. She bent down and opened the bag, removing the jawbone.

"Bring it to me," Metatron ordered her, and Ammit frowned again. "Do it," he said sharply. "I could write you and your brother right out of existence. I could subject you to a thousand tortures, each more agonizing than the last."

Ammit glanced at her brother, and Anubis gave her a brief nod. She walked over to where Metatron stood, handing him the jawbone.

Paul told Gail what he was seeing, but she'd already heard. She had been etching furiously, trying to finish. She had the feeling that if she didn't get it all down now, she wouldn't be allowed to finish. Metatron had ignored her and Paul so far, that that wouldn't continue for much longer. She was going to have severe writers' cramp after this. Two more symbols, and...

"Done!" she said. "Here. Put this in your pocket. We've got to help Cas and Gabriel!" She shoved the stone at Paul and ran over to the main chamber. He put it in the pocket of his pantaloons and rushed after her, hoping the weight of the stone wasn't going to pull his pants down to his ankles.

But now, Gail was wondering what the hell she was supposed to do, once she got there. She had no powers and no weapon, not unless she counted the etching tool she still had in her hand. Maybe she could poke Metatron with it repeatedly, and annoy him long enough for Cas and Gabriel to figure out what to do.

But she had forgotten: Metatron had no idea who she was. They wouldn't actually meet until thousands of years later. The Scribe didn't know Paul, either. So when the two of them hurried into the main chamber, Metatron saw the fear on Gail's face and misinterpreted it. He made a slight bow.

"I have no quarrel with your servants," he said to Cas and Gabriel in a magnanimous tone. "You two may go," Metatron added, waving his hand at Gail and Paul to dismiss them.

"I don't think so," Gail said stubbornly, and Metatron smiled, but it was a nasty smile. He glanced at Gabriel, who was slowly picking himself up off the floor of the tomb. "Let me help you out, Brother," Metatron went on, and now his voice had a sarcastic tone. He looked at Gail again. "He does not care about you, my dear. He probably told you that you were special, but, you're not. Whatever Gabriel paid you, I'm sure it wasn't nearly enough. Go back to town, and forget about him. I can assure you he's already forgotten about you."

Gail was almost amused. That was right, too; Metatron would have no idea who she was, not in this time. He clearly thought she was a prostitute, just like every other man here did. Geez, Louise. Was that the only profession there WAS for a woman in this day and age? Weren't there any merchants, or nurses, even? Maybe she should cool it a little on the feminism when they got back to their own time. Compared to here, she had every opportunity in the world there. And it was kind of funny that everybody kept talking about Gabriel as if he was Hugh Hefner, or something. Gail knew he had a reputation for being a miscreant, but she'd always thought that it was exaggerated.

But before she got the chance to correct Metatron's assumption, he heaved a sigh. "I can see that you're one of those headstrong ones," he said to her. "Let me save us all the trouble." He snapped his fingers, and she and Paul disappeared.

"What did you do?" Cas said angrily, moving towards Metatron with his sword raised. "Where did you send them?"

"Away," Metatron said vaguely. "I must confess, I'm surprised by your tone, Castiel. You can always buy another slave, and your chivalry is lost on Gabriel's whore." He looked at Anubis. "And now that I have the jawbone in my possession, I will take my leave. You and your sister should be able to make quick work of my Brothers now. They have no jawbone, and they have no celestial powers here, for some reason. Therefore, as the expression goes: 'sic 'em'."

Metatron snapped his fingers again, and then he too disappeared, taking the jawbone with him.

NOW

Vincent and Becky had another glass of wine, smiling at each other as if they were co-conspirators. But in fact, they each had their own agenda. It just so happened that each one of them had a goal, and on the surface, the endgame appeared to be the same.

But underneath, the reality was slightly askew, like a note in a song that was just a tiny bit flat. Becky's first inclination had been to dismiss Vincent's idea as completely crazy. But she'd taken a beat and thought about it, and that brief pause was all she'd needed to sell herself on the idea. Just the thought of finally being able to successfully seduce Sam was heady enough, but to have his baby? Well, that would be the perfect way to show her love for him, wouldn't it?

However dim Becky may be about a lot of things, though, a part of her knew that she should probably seem a little reluctant to pull the trigger on such a plan. Vincent had been so good to help her like this, but if Becky was to get pregnant: "Wouldn't that be the end of my modelling career?" she asked him cautiously. "Then you wouldn't be my manager any more, 'cause as soon as I get fat, there won't be anything to manage."

Vincent took her hand. "Don't worry about that, my dear. I'd like to think I'm more than your manager. I'm your friend. I look on you as a daughter, Becky. I hope that's not too presumptuous," he said charmingly. That was assuming that the stupid bitch knew what a big word like that meant, of course. She thought she was fooling him with this little act of hers. Was she actually trying to convince Vincent that she gave a damn about him, or about her career? Everything was just a means to end for Becky. That was why Vincent was here.

He had his own endgame in mind, of course. But for now, he and Becky were in perfect harmony. "When the skull gets here tomorrow, I'll help you make up the potion for Sam to drink. It'll be a variation of the one you tried to make, but we'll put a little Lust in there, too. After all the time you've spent waiting, we want to make sure that Lover Boy lasts for more than a few minutes, right, honey?" Vincent winked at Becky, and she blushed, but then she giggled, too. "So the two of you will have mad, mad monkey sex, or whatever you kids are into these days. And when you're both laying there in a giant puddle of sweat and other sticky stuff, you'll be pregnant, with a little Sammy Winchester. Then he'll have no choice but to have you in his life."

"But how do we know that I'll get pregnant, from just that one time?" Becky asked him worriedly. "I've heard that sometimes it takes weeks to happen. Months, even."

"Trust me," Vincent said with a grin. "I know about those kinds of things. Leave it to me. We'll make sure to maximize fertility." They certainly would, he thought with great amusement. She should see the look on her face. No wonder Sam stayed far, far away from Becky. Vincent had seen terrorists who were less fanatical. "Maybe he'll propose, once he finds out," Vincent went on, winding Becky up even further. "Isn't he the kind of guy who would do something stupid like that?"

Becky looked at him sharply for a moment, but the hook was even further in, now. She was picturing Sam getting down on one knee, taking a ring box out of his pocket. Of course he would want to do the right thing. Sam was a gentleman. And just in case he needed some gentle prodding, Becky would say how wonderful it would be for their child to grow up with both parents. That kind of situation was all too rare these days. Sam had never had that for himself; didn't he want it for his own child? She was sure he wouldn't need much more convincing than that.

Vincent shook his head slowly. God help poor Sam Winchester. Well, it served the younger Winchester right, for having burned JD's body. They thought they had screwed Vincent and won, but they would soon find out that Vincent was about to screw all of them, and they were all going to lose. Big.

THEN

Anubis looked down at the Angels. Now that Castiel no longer had the jawbone, there should be no problem in killing the both of them. Especially if it was true that they had no celestial powers right now. He could take both on himself, but since Ammit was here now, he saw no reason they both couldn't enjoy the spoils of victory. Once the Angels were dead, he and his sister could inhale their essences, and become that much stronger.

But sibling rivalry was a reality even with ancient creatures, and Anubis wanted the higher-ranking Angel for himself. So he swiped at Gabriel with one long arm, barely missing the Archangel's chest with his sharp claws.

"You're gonna have to do a lot better than that, Fido," Gabriel said sarcastically. "I'm an expert at avoiding peoples' clutches. Just ask any woman in town."

Ammit and Castiel were facing off, and the Angel was eyeing her claws. If he could just get the upper hand, so to speak, he could chop off her hands, and kill her with her own claw. He glanced sideways at Gabriel, who was dodging Anubis and slashing at the Egyptian God with his sword. But he couldn't evade Anubis' claws and teeth forever. Not to mention the fact that Anubis was nearly twice Cas's Brother's size.

"Use your weapon!" Cas yelled, and Gabriel gave him an incredulous look, brandishing his sword. "What the hell does it look like I'm doing?" Gabriel shouted back.

Cas rolled his eyes. "The weapon I gave you!" he said in an exasperated voice, gesturing to his neck. Ammit lunged at Cas in the meantime, and he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her towards him as he'd shown Gail how to do, to surprise an attacker. It surprised Ammit too, but she made a quick recovery, snapping at Cas's neck with her sharp teeth and powerful jaws. He gave her a mighty shove and she stumbled, knocking Gabriel to the ground. Anubis loomed over the Archangel. Cas ran over to help him, but Gabriel raised a hand. "I got this, Brother," he said, springing to his feet. "Hey, Bowser!" Gabe yelled up at Anubis. "Heel!"

Anubis bellowed again. He reached down and picked Gabriel up with his huge paws, shaking him vigorously. Gabriel thrust his sword forward into the Egyptian God's snout, making him yelp.

Ammit was distracted now. She'd never heard her brother make that kind of a sound before. She looked up at Anubis, and Cas used the opportunity to grip his sword tightly and swing hard, cutting her claw off at the wrist. She shrieked in rage and pain, leaping at him. But Cas sidestepped her and swung again, cutting off her other hand.

Gabriel was flailing in midair, leaning back from Anubis' snapping jaws. He was swinging his sword blindly, trying to keep Anubis distracted long enough so that he could grab the necklace with Bathshear's claw from under his tunic. He yanked on it, breaking the chain. "Geez, Scooby. You ever heard of a breath mint?" Gabriel quipped, trying to distract Anubis from noticing the claw the Archangel now held in his hand.

Cas picked up one of Ammit's claws and shoved it in the pocket of his pantaloons. He grabbed the other claw and advanced on her, slashing at her with his sword to put her on the defensive. She swiped at him with one bleeding stump and then the other, not seeming to register that she no longer had her claws. Cas stabbed her from the flank side, pulling upwards with the sword to inflict maximum pain. Ammit opened her jaws wide and let out a loud, banshee-like shriek, and Cas lunged forward, ramming the claw he held in his other hand into her eye socket, as hard as he could. She whimpered, falling backwards. Cas drove his sword through her stomach and then dug Ammit's claw deep into her chest. She writhed underneath him, but Cas could see that she was dying, so he yanked the claw out of her chest, holding it in his hand at the ready, in case she made one last attempt to attack.

"I'll be there in a moment to help you, Broth-" Cas shouted over Anubis' angry roar. But he never got a chance to finish his sentence. As Gabriel looked down to the ground, opening up his mouth to congratulate him on the kill, Cas promptly vanished.

"Oh, come on!" Gabriel groaned loudly. Everybody was gonna have to quit disappearing on him. He was starting to take it personally.

Anubis bellowed with rage, shaking Gabriel like a rag doll. The Egyptian God's sister was dead, and this Angel was going to pay.

Gabriel was scared. He'd better take care of business now, or he was going to be Milkbone. "I hope you weren't too offended by that crack about the breath mint," he said with a toothy smile. He gripped the claw tighter, preparing to stab Anubis with it, but Anubis gave him another violent, bone-jarring shake, and the claw flew right out of his hand. Gabriel could hear it clatter on the tomb floor below.

Oh, crap. He was screwed. Gabriel looked skyward. "Is this about that thing in Mesopotamia?" Gabe asked his Father. "'Cause I apologized to her for that. And to her mother, too."

"I'm going to kill you, but I'm going to do it very slowly," Anubis told Gabriel. "Maybe I'll just bite off one body part at a time." It grinned, showing a mouth full of sharp fangs.

Gabriel shut his eyes tight, not wanting to see where on his body Anubis was looking to take the first nibble.

"Put the Angel down," an amused-sounding voice said from the ground. "There's a good doggy."

"They killed my sister!" Anubis protested.

"I know. That's why I'm here," Crowley said, and Gabriel's eyes flew open. Great. This day just kept getting better and better. "Now, put him down," the King of Hell repeated.

Anubis roared, but then he complied, dropping Gabriel from his paw. The Archangel landed with a thud on the tomb floor. Owww. "He said 'put', not 'drop', Wolverine!" Gabe yelled. He looked at Crowley. "You'd better tell me what you're doing here, quick. I'm running out of famous dogs' names. Even that last one was really pushing it."

Crowley smirked. "I believe you dropped something," he said, snapping his fingers. Bathshear's claw reappeared in Gabriel's hand. He looked at Crowley, astonished. But there was no time to lose. Gabe was pretty sure he wouldn't get another chance. Plus, he still had to find the others, wherever they had gone. So he swiped at the tendons on Anubis' ankles with his sword, and when the Egyptian God crashed to the ground, Gabriel drove the claw into Its throat, opening up a large gash. Then he stabbed the claw into the beast's heart, twisting it until Anubis stopped moving.

Crowley snapped his fingers again, and the claw disappeared. "With apologies to the old woman, I'd just as soon you didn't retain that particular weapon," he said to Gabriel dryly. "Bad enough that I arrived too late to get the jawbone."

Gabriel climbed off Anubis and approached Crowley. "Why'd you help me?" he said, mystified.

"I may be a despicable individual, but I'm also a businessman, and I believe in paying my debts," the King of Hell said, shrugging. "You lot did me a huge favour by killing that one." He nodded towards Ammit. "She's been a thorn in my side for centuries. So, I'll throw you a little bonus: Gail and Paul are with Hakeem, as his unwilling guests. The Metatron of this timeline is nearly as rotten as I am. He winked them to the Royal Palace. I'd hurry, if I were you. Apparently, Paul refuses to take orders, and Gail is trying single-handedly to introduce Hakeem's harem of concubines to the concept of Womens' Liberation. I'm sure you can imagine how THAT'S going over."

"Where's Castiel?" Gabe inquired of the King.

"Don't know, don't care," Crowley said tartly. "I said I was here to settle a debt, not grow wings and confess my sins. Off you go, Gabriel. The hour grows late." Then he snapped his fingers again, and he too disappeared.

Aw, geez. Oh, crap, Gabriel thought. I've gotta get those two away from that assclown Hakeem. Cas is gonna kill me. He allowed himself a brief grin, thinking about Paul and Gail in the Palace. Paul telling them that he 'ain't no man's slave', and Gail lecturing Athena and Letitia about the power of feminism. Just the looks on their faces alone would be worth the price of admission. But then, his grin faded. Neither Angel had any powers, and they were vastly outnumbered. Hakeem would likely have Paul chained and whipped, and his little Kitten could only fight so hard for so long.

He rushed over to Ammit's and then back to Anubis's bodies, just to make sure. They were both quite dead. He checked Ammit closely, but Cas must have had the claw he'd killed her with still in his hand when he'd disappeared to...wherever he had gone. Could Gabriel's Brother be on his way to the Royal Palace too, maybe?

Gabriel stumbled outside, shielding his eyes against the bright desert sun. Nobody here, and what was worse, no horses. Great. Fantastic. It had been a two-hour ride out here. Minimum. Of course there weren't any horses. Why would there be?

"I swear, I didn't know that Turkish girl was married," Gabriel lamented, lifting his face to the sky. "Come on, have a heart."

No response. Gabriel heaved a heavy sigh. He trudged further out into the desert, finally spotting a lone camel. Hey, any port in a storm. He walked up to it. The camel was staring balefully at him.

OK, how was this going to work? How was he supposed to get on the thing? Maybe Gabe should try talking to it, like Cas did. "I need a ride to town," he told the camel in a calm, reasonable tone.

Ptui! The camel spat in his direction. Gabe peered closer at the animal. Was it his imagination, or was the thing grinning now?

He tried again. "Look; you don't like me, and I'm not too wild about you, either. But you're either gonna give me a ride to town, or I'm gonna stick this sword right up your - "

The camel got down to its knees on the sand, and Gabriel smiled. Apparently, threats worked, too. Wait till he told Cas. The camel spat at him again, but it held its position until Gabriel climbed on its back. Then it stood abruptly. Gabe nearly fell off, but he was just able to keep his balance. He stroked its hump a couple of times to try and calm it, but the camel wasn't having any of that. It bucked violently, almost throwing him off its back again. Then it made a honking noise, as if it was laughing at him. Yeah; it was laughing at him. Gabriel was sure of it.

"We're never, ever telling anyone about this. Agreed, Humpy?" he said conspiratorially. The camel grunted in response, and Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Let's go get my friends, then," he said to it, and the camel headed off towards the town.