Chapter 4 - Stay Awhile

"Lover Boy is here!" Frank announced loudly, hearing the knock on the front door.

"Frank!" Gail exclaimed, running down the stairs from the second floor.

He was smirking. "Way to play hard to get, there, kiddo."

"Frank is right," Christina said disdainfully. "Go back upstairs. Your father and I want to meet this man, first. Come downstairs in ten minutes, and walk like a lady when you do."

"OK, Mom," Gail said, rolling her eyes. Christina was already moving to the door, but Frank grinned. Gail hated it when their mother lectured her on being a lady, calling it a double standard. Frank guessed she kind of had a point there; he himself never got lectures about how to act like a man.

Christina opened the door. Cas stood there on the porch. "Good evening," he said to her. "I am here to call on Gail." She looked him up and down. So far, Castiel passed muster. He was dressed in a nice suit, he was clean-shaven and his hair was neatly combed. His shoes were even shined. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers, and something in a gift bag.

"Come in," Gail's mother said, opening the door wider.

Cas entered the house, after wiping his shoes on the mat outside. Frank was at the foot of the stairs. No way was he missing this. But he had to admit that so far, Cas was ticking all the boxes.

"Hello, Frank," Cas said pleasantly.

"Those are lovely flowers," Christina remarked. "I'm sure that Gail will love them."

"They're not for her, they're for you," Cas said, extending the bouquet to her. Then he gestured with the gift bag. "As is this. Or, more accurately, it's for you and your husband, both. Gail tells me that both of you like coffee. This is a fine Ethiopian blend that I favour, myself. Please accept these gifts as a token of my esteem."

Another box ticked, Frank thought with amusement. His mom liked wine, too, but she was kind of picky about it. Plus, she would have thought it was bad manners for a man who was dating her daughter to bring booze to the house. Go figure.

Jim came out to the hallway now, and there were more introductions. He invited Cas to come into the living room while Christina took the flowers and coffee into the kitchen. Frank followed the men into the living room. He was intrigued by this Cas guy. Ever since Gail had decided to give him another chance, Cas had called her on the phone every day until she'd relented and agreed to go out on a date with him. By now, Frank guessed that Gail had filled Cas in on how old-fashioned their mom was about that kind of junk. As long as Gail lived under their roof, etc., etc. His sister's year would be up soon, and she was no closer to becoming a professional author than when she'd first broached the idea. Frank was making a good living himself now, working in Dean Winchester's garage restoring classic cars, just like he'd always wanted to do. But Gail was having a hard time realizing her dream. Life wasn't perfect, sometimes. Frank was ready to move out and get his own place, but Gail was pretty much broke. Sam had told her he might be able to get her a job at the University, but he couldn't make any promises.

Christina brought out a tray with coffee cups and saucers, sugar, cream, and some cookies. "I took the liberty of opening the package of coffee you brought," she told Cas. "I made a pot. It'll be ready in a couple of minutes."

"Thank you," he said, inclining his head in acknowledgement. "I'll look forward to your opinion."

Damn, he was good, Frank thought. But the interrogation wasn't over, yet.

"What do you do for a living, Castiel?" Jim asked Gail's gentleman caller.

Cas had an answer all ready to go for that one. And it was the truth, too. He would just be omitting one small detail. "I'm in the family business," he replied smoothly. "My father left me in charge as the CEO while he went travelling, but that job didn't suit me. I was working long hours, and I didn't like who I became once I succumbed to the stresses of the position. So, I resigned."

"So you're unemployed, then," Jim said, and Frank winced internally.

Cas's lips twitched. "I suppose you could put it that way. But if you are concerned about my financial situation, please don't be. Thanks to my position in the hierarchy, I have unlimited funds."

"Really?" Frank wisecracked. "Can you loan me a couple of grand?"

"Grand...what?" Castiel asked him, confused.

Jim was sitting back in his chair, regarding Cas cooly. So, this guy was a spoiled heir to a fortune, whose father had set him up to take some responsibility. But he hadn't liked the taste of real work, so he'd formulated an answer to the employment question that would contain the correct verbiage. How could anyone object to the poor snowflake having resigned a position that was so stressful it threatened to put a wrinkle or two on that handsome, unlined face? Or gave him a few grey hairs, or an ulcer? Heaven forbid. No, that kind of thing was left to guys like Jim. Guys who had family obligations, and a sense of responsibility.

"'Castiel'. What an unusual name," Christina remarked. What he'd said about his family and his employment situation hadn't bothered Gail's mother. She was a stay-at-home housewife, who'd led a very sheltered existence. She had no idea what a stressful workplace was like. Therefore, her takeaway had been that Castiel was obviously the heir to a family fortune. Maybe Gail wouldn't need to worry about getting a job, after all. Of course that kind of thinking was premature. But it was comforting, at any rate.

Cas was ready for that one, too. "He is the Angel of Thursday. My family is very religious, and I was born on a Thursday."

Christina smiled. She and Jim weren't particularly religious themselves, but she looked on the fact that Castiel's family was as further evidence that they were decent people, and it appeared as though they had raised their son the same way. "That's lovely," she told him. "Excuse me, while I check on the coffee."

Christina stood from her chair, and Castiel stood up too, of course. Gail's mother smiled again when he did that.

As Christina practically floated out of the room, euphoric at Castiel's old-world manners, Gail came walking into the room. Cas had started to take his seat again, but he straightened up quickly and remained standing.

Frank smirked widely. He pictured inviting about twenty or so women over, and having them come in and out of the room constantly, making Cas bob up and down till he got dizzy. There was a new child's toy in there somewhere, Frank was sure. A Cas-In-The-Box? Queasy Queasy Castiel? He'd have to refine that, but he was sure that there was comedy gold to be mined there.

Gail was staring at Cas. Then she looked down at herself. "Boy, am I underdressed," she remarked. She was wearing her usual jeans. "Are we going someplace fancy, or something?"

"I apologize," Cas said to her, and Frank could swear that the guy bowed, a little. He tried to keep from rolling his eyes. Now Cas was overdoing it.

Cas was distressed. He hadn't thought about how she might be dressed. Of course she would be wearing pants, instead of a dress. She was a modern woman. "That is entirely my fault," Cas said to her. "I can cancel the reservation and change clothing, if you would prefer to go somewhere else."

"That's not necessary," Christina said, bringing the coffeepot into the living room. "Gail can put on a dress."

Gail looked at her mother for a moment, but Christina was pouring the coffee. Predictably enough, Frank was smirking, enjoying the show. Gail threw her brother a glare, and then flounced out of the room.

Cas stared after her for a moment. Was she angry with him? He was unsure. Presumably, she had gone to change clothing. Obviously, Cas had a lot to learn about women.

They drank some coffee and made small talk while they were waiting for Gail to come back. Castiel even had a bit of the coffee, feeling it would be rude to refuse. A few minutes later, Gail returned. She was wearing a simple black dress, and she'd put on shoes with a bit of a heel.

"Wow. Who died?" Frank quipped.

Gail made a face at her brother. "Why are you like that?" she asked Frank.

"Because I'm funny," he told her.

"See, that's where you're wrong," she assured him.

"You look very nice," Cas told her. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Sure," Gail said, nodding. Truthfully, she couldn't wait to get out of there. Her father was frowning, her mother was simpering, and her brother was an ass. Cas had no idea what having such an exasperating family was like, she was sure.

They left the house, and as they were walking down the steps to get to the curb, Gail repeated her latter thought to Cas. He looked at her for a moment, and then he did something he hadn't had occasion to do in a very long time: he threw his head back and laughed out loud. He was still laughing when they began to walk down the street.

Lucifer was restless. His Father had given him a do-over too, because He'd been curious to see what sorts of choices His Son would make if he had a different circumstance. But it seemed as though this version of the Devil was just as aimless and unsatisfied as he'd always been. He had travelled to Europe and parts of Africa, and he was currently in the Caribbean. What should he do next? Where should he go?

Placida saw him sitting on the patio at the resort, and he just had that look about him. Vincent had built a small empire based on that look, alone.

Many things had changed in this new reality, but some had not, although some others were about to. Vincent was not related to Gail or any of the people in that circle, but he still ran the voodoo cult in that part of the world, and Placida had been restored as his de facto first lady. It had not been God's aim to create another Garden of Eden. Life on Earth had a lot of beauty and wonder, but there was pain and ugliness, as well. And sometimes, the latter came disguised as the former.

Placida sat down next to Lucifer, startling him. "I know what you've been looking for," she told him.

"Yeah? What's that?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Vincent," she said mysteriously.

Vincent got Placida's call, and he was waiting in his beachfront cottage for her to bring the new prospect to him. She'd said that the man's name was Bill, and he had been drifting aimlessly, looking for a place to belong.

Those were Vincent's favourite kinds; the drifters who were looking for love, and a sense of belonging. He could offer lots and lots of both, if they were willing to cast off all of their inhibitions.

"Welcome, Bill!" Vincent greeted Satan effusively. "Have a seat outside on the lanai, and Placida and I will bring out some drinks in a minute."

Lucifer went outside, as he had been directed. Placida had been very persuasive. They were one big, loving family, she'd said, putting her hand on his thigh as she spoke. Then that hand had crept up, and then even further up, towards his crotch. Very, very loving, she'd repeated. The islands were a veritable paradise in which to live, and if you were a part of Vincent's family, you received special treatment everywhere you went. Food, drinks, sex...anything your heart desired. There were other things you could do, too, things they could talk about further down the road. But since Vincent was the Papa, he would have to decide if Bill could join the group or not.

"Bill" was intrigued. He kind of had an idea of the sorts of things she was talking about, or at least, he thought he did. She was talking about sex orgies, and the like. Lucifer had been an Angel for his entire existence, and Angels did not do those sorts of things. Not until they were married, anyway, and certainly not with more than one person. But he wasn't married, and he didn't need to worry about anything, did he? He belonged to nothing and no one, and he had no obligations.

"I think he'll do very nicely," Vincent said to Placida. She had given him a brief overview of her conversation with the man who called himself Bill. She got the feeling that wasn't really his name, but that wasn't important. The main thing was whether he would fit in with the family. He seemed open, she told Vincent, and he came with another asset: she handed Papa the wad of cash that Bill had handed over to her. Vincent smiled slowly. Yes, Bill might do quite nicely.

The couple came out to the lanai with the drinks, and after they'd had a few strong ones and talked for a while, "Bill's" pants were undone and Placida was on her knees in front of him. Lucifer had zero problem with that. Vincent had his pants off too, and he'd started off where Placida was. But then, by the time Vincent moved up to where Lucifer's head was, their new acolyte was feeling so good that he didn't object.

Vincent smiled. Yes. "Bill", or whatever his name really was, was going to work out just fine.

VIGNETTE - THE MESSAGE

It had taken forever, but Becky had finally been able to get Sam to agree to meet with her for coffee after class. She had some questions for him about some of the more unusual monsters they were learning about. Sam had been a little bit leery about going. He hadn't become a University professor because he was stupid, nor had he been born yesterday. Sam had dealt with younger girls with crushes before. Usually a polite but firm reminder that he was married with kids was enough to deter them. Usually.

It hadn't really come to that with Becky, but he had the feeling that it might. She sat in the front row of the class, and he could feel her eyes on him constantly. He still went to Lyman's occasionally, because it was closer to the University, but Dean and Frank and Gail seemed to prefer the Rogue Angel, so Sam usually went there instead these days, if they were all going out as a group. He stayed at home with the kids, too, if Quinn wanted to have some nights out with Nicole, or her other girlfriends. Quinn had been curious about Gail when Sam had first started to talk about Frank's sister, but Sam had assured his wife that Gail had no designs on him. She was obsessed with this left-of-centre guy named Cas, who joined them at the bar sometimes. Cas had a friend named Gabriel who would also join them for a drink or two from time to time, and he was a funny, personable guy. Then he would go off somewhere and try to pick up a woman, and they may or may not see him again that night, depending on his level of success.

Quinn had only been half-listening. To her, it all sounded very harmless and quirky, and she really wasn't concerned about Sam's fidelity. He wasn't that type of guy.

But Becky was a separate issue, Sam realized. She seemed like a nice enough girl, but she just had a vibe about her. Sam would have coffee with Becky, and he would help her pass his course, but if she had anything else in mind, she was going to be very disappointed.

Becky did have something else in mind, and she was nervously pacing back and forth now, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly, a bird trilled loudly, making her jump. Maybe that had been a sign that she shouldn't be here. But did she really need a sign? She was standing at the crossroads, waiting for a Demon from Hell. Of course she shouldn't be here.

But just as she was thinking that, an older man with dark hair and a well-trimmed beard showed up, startling her again.

Crowley's lips twitched at Becky's reaction. It was good to see that some things never changed. As the King, he didn't really have occasion to come out here anymore. He had underlings who did all those things on behalf of the Kingdom. Delegation had its perks, but it also had its drawbacks. They were all eternal beings, with long days to fill. If an organization ran efficiently, there wasn't much left for the individual at the very top of the food chain to do.

So he had taken to popping himself around indiscriminately here and there, just to break up the monotony. And today, when the bell had rung, signifying that there was a summoning at the crossroads, Crowley had attended the call himself. Just for the hell of it.

"What can I do for you, my dear?" he asked young Becky.

She was eyeing him. Was this a practical joke? This guy was wearing a suit and tie, and he talked with a cultured English accent. She wondered if Sam and Dean had set her up. This man didn't look like a Demon at all. He looked like Becky's uncle.

"Are you a Demon?" she asked Crowley.

"I'm not only A Demon, I'm THE Demon," he said smugly. "Crowley, King of Hell, at your service."

Becky was still eyeing him dubiously. "You don't have black eyes, or horns, or a tail..."

"Or a pitchfork, or flames coming out of my arse," Crowley finished dryly. "You humans, and your scatological references. Why on earth would I carry a pitchfork, anyway? Who am I, Farmer John? You'll find that many of us are very much like you humans. Rotten to the core, of course. But, other than that..."

Becky had no idea what to say now. She had been expecting a grinning monster, and instead, she'd gotten Daniel Radcliffe's father. Or grandfather, maybe, Becky thought, peering closer at Crowley's face.

The King sighed. "What do you want?"

"Did Dean put you up to this?" she asked him with suspicion.

Crowley regarded her balefully. "Dean?"

"Dean Winchester. Sam's brother," Becky elaborated.

"Don't know those blokes," he said briskly. "State your business."

"Pardon?" Becky said blankly.

Crowley was beginning to regret this. Deeply. "What? Do? You? Want?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Ohhh," Becky said, as the light dawned. "They said that you can do a deal that would get me what I want."

"Perhaps," Crowley said casually. "That will all depend."

"On what?" Becky asked him.

"On what you bloody well want!" Crowley shouted. His eyes flashed red for a moment.

Incredibly, Becky smiled. That had been her proof that he wasn't just some guy, pulling a practical joke. "I want to be Mrs. Sam Winchester," she said.

Crowley was incredulous. "You came here to do a Demon deal because you want your boyfriend to propose?"

"Oh, no, he's not my boyfriend," Becky assured him. "He's married, and he's got kids."

"And she's a bitch, who won't give him a divorce," Crowley prompted her.

"I didn't say that," she replied hastily. "He wouldn't ask her for one. He's happily married."

Crowley let out a breath. "So, you're the mistress. Why would you want to be his wife, then? Aren't you already getting the best part of the transaction?"

"We've never slept together," Becky informed him. "That's why I want to be his wife."

Crowley shook his head slowly. "How old are you,...?"

"How old am I,...what?" Becky countered.

Flames came out of Crowley's fingertips. "Not what: whom. How old are you, and what is your name?"

"Oh. Well, why didn't you say so?" Becky asked him, totally unaware that Crowley was about two questions away from obliterating her. This wasn't a conversation; this was torture. "My name is Becky, and I'm twenty-five."

"Old enough to know the facts of life, then," Crowley stated in a clipped tone. "You don't have to marry a man to shag him, Becky. We haven't enforced that since the Middle Ages. Even longer ago than that, if you didn't mind being stoned to death, afterwards."

Becky was looking puzzled again, so Crowley took a deep breath. "Seduce him, Becky. Invite him over, ply him with wine, and strip. There aren't too many men who can resist the direct approach."

"But he doesn't even know where I live!" she blurted out. It was just the first thing that had popped into her head. She was kind of freaked out now. He had fooled her with his well-groomed appearance and fancy accent. But his eyes were bright red now, and his hands were on fire.

Crowley snapped. He couldn't take it anymore. Maybe the Archangels had had the right idea all along. He extended his arm and obliterated Becky with the fireball that had been slowly growing out of his fingers. She was gone in two seconds, reduced to a pile of smoky ash that a gust of wind blew away, a moment later.

"You're welcome, Sam Winchester, whoever you may be," Crowley said aloud. He snapped himself down to his office, went to his wall safe, and took out a Demon knife. Then he buzzed for his assistant.

When Jepson came through the door, Crowley handed the man the Demon knife. "You need to do something for me," the King told his personal assistant.

"Yes, Sire? What do you need?" Jepson inquired, taking the knife and glancing at it curiously.

"If I ever tell you again that I'm going to the crossroads in response to a summons from a human, I want you to take that knife, and kill me with it," Crowley instructed him. "Now, get out."

Jepson left the office pocketing the knife, a confused expression on his face.

VIGNETTE - SWEET DREAMS

"The girls are finally down for the night," Carolyn told her husband. "I had to read them Hester's book three times. Thank goodness it's only ten pages long."

"Welcome to SAP Publishers," Mike wisecracked.

"SAP?" Carolyn echoed, getting under the blanket beside him. He had been changing channels with the remote, looking for a movie they could both enjoy.

"Short Attention Span," Mike replied with a grin.

"Ohhh," she said. "Very funny. I'm sure Hester will find it hilarious."

"Why don't I ask Dean if we can bring her to his Christmas party this weekend?" Mike suggested. "There's bound to be a lot of single guys there. He's got a bunch of burly mechanics working at all three of his shops, now. Maybe we can fix her up with Frank; he's managing one of the places. He's a good man. He'll drive you nuts with the bad jokes, but other than that..."

"Bad jokes aren't so bad," Carolyn remarked. "There could be a lot worse qualities in a man."

"Hey! I'm sitting right here," Mike joked, cuddling his wife.

She smiled. "I hope there won't be any homophobes there. Tommy's bringing Barry as his 'plus one'."

"I'm pretty sure it'll be fine, but I'm glad you gave me a heads-up," Mike remarked. "There are a couple of guys around the shop who like to make comments, every now and then. Maybe I'll have Dean talk to them. We don't want your brother and his boyfriend to feel uncomfortable."

"That would be great," Carolyn said, kissing her husband on the cheek. "It sounds like it's going to be a huge party. Tommy and Barry are friends with Dean's brother, from that bar. Dean hasn't even met them, before."

"Dean's a very generous guy," Mike told her. "He's a great boss, too. He's been telling us that he wants to close the shops for two weeks around the holidays, so we can spend more time with our families. And he's gonna have a separate Christmas party for all our kids next week, with presents for them all. Yolie and Emma are going to love it."

"That's terrific," Carolyn enthused. "Do you know if he and Nicole are still trying?"

Now Mike's smile faded a bit. "Guys don't really talk about stuff like that, but I get the feeling that there might be a medical issue there, or something. Let's not mention it, in case it's a sensitive subject. You know how worried we were, before we had the twins."

Carolyn nodded. "Hey, what's on TV?"

Jody pressed the End Call button on her cell phone, smiling faintly. Nicole. Bless her heart. The two women had met at the local breast cancer screening clinic, and they'd struck up a conversation in the waiting room. Nervous jokes about squishing boobs were exchanged, and by the time that Jody was called in, the women had arranged to meet downstairs in the coffee shop, afterwards. They'd had coffee and chatted some more, and discovered that they had a lot in common. Nicole joked that Jody and her officers needed to start overlooking some crimes soon, or take less copious case notes. Nicole worked in the courthouse, and they were absolutely swamped, she said. Of course, with the Christmas break coming up, everybody was trying to file everything as quickly as they could. Jody had laughed and told Nicole that if everybody would just behave themselves, it would be a much more merry Christmas for her, too.

After about an hour, the women had gone their separate ways, but not before Nicole had extended an invitation to her new friend to attend their Christmas party. She and Dean were looking forward to hosting the biggest Christmas bash ever. The guest list kept growing by leaps and bounds, but they didn't care. The more, the merrier. No pun intended. There would be lots of manly men there too, many of whom were single, Nicole had teased Jody. She could tell by reading between the lines that Jody was a lonely woman. Nicole could understand why, in a way. It took a special kind of man to be secure enough to embrace a strong, independent woman. Nicole was lucky; she'd found her special man in Dean. He was a very masculine guy with a soft heart, who encouraged his wife's independence. Nicole had been ambivalent about having children of her own, but since it seemed so important to Dean, she had agreed to try. And boy, was it fun trying. But it didn't seem to be in the cards. The couple made a good living, though, and they had a lot of love to give. So they were going to host a couple of huge parties, including the one for all of Dean's employees' kids.

Nicole had called Jody to remind her about the party, and to make sure that her new friend was going to show up. Jody had been bemused, but she assured Nicole that she would. It was funny, too. She'd been considering just bailing on the whole thing just before Nicole's call. They would have so many people there that she wouldn't be missed. But, on the way to pick up her ringing cell phone, Jody tripped over Dammit. Suddenly, she'd remembered that she'd had the stupid cat for a year, which was longer than any relationship she'd ever had with a man. So when Nicole had asked for confirmation that she would be attending, Jody had given it to her.

"What the hell. Maybe I'll meet the man of my dreams," Jody said to Dammit the cat once she'd hung up her phone. Dammit looked at her balefully for a moment, and then he turned his tail up and walked out of the room.

VIGNETTE - GIRLS JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN

"Mom! What did you do to your hair?" Kevin exclaimed when he picked her up for Dean and Nicole's Christmas party.

"What? What do you mean? What's wrong with it?" she asked her son.

"It's blonde," he pointed out.

"So? Haven't you ever seen an Asian woman with blonde hair before?" she retorted.

"No!" Kevin stated.

"Don't listen to him, Mama, I think it looks great," Paul said, kissing Linda on the cheek.

She pointed her finger at him. "I told you not to call me that. It makes me sound old."

"Sorry, Mama," Paul quipped, and Kevin laughed. Linda sighed, but she was smiling now, too. Paul and Kevin were just so cute together.

"So, are there going to be any good-looking, single guys at this party?" Linda asked the men as they took the elevator downstairs from her suite.

"Now why on earth would you be asking US a question like that?" Paul said, grinning. He took Kevin's hand. "You know we're getting married next year. I only have eyes for your son."

"Yeah, whatever, Paul," Kevin said, rolling his eyes. "There'll be a ton of eligible men there, Mom."

"Good," she said, nodding. "Maybe I'll get a hookup. That's what it's called, right?"

Kevin made a face. "Mom! Yuk! That's disgusting!"

"No, it isn't," she said pertly. "I'm a vibrant, healthy woman. Keep your nose out of it." She turned to Paul. "And don't call me 'Mama', or I'll punch you. Got it?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Paul replied, smirking. He was only teasing Kevin's mother, and she knew it. She was the kind of woman who would get upset if you didn't give her a hard time. "Merry Christmas, Linda," he said to his prospective mother-in-law, kissing her on the cheek.