Dean stepped into the only bar the little town boasted, ready to get good and drunk.
He had made the decision. They would stay, and they would hear the Cambion out. And if he didn't like what she had to say, he would gank her. He tried not to think about how he would gank her, because he had no fucking idea where to even begin.
He got a shot of whiskey and a beer and found a table in the back to brood at. Sam and Cass were on their way, so he slung a couple more chairs to the table and sat, waiting.
This sucks, he thought as he downed the whiskey.
They had been looking for a way to kill Lucifer for two weeks now, and nothing. Sam had suggested staying at a motel and actually getting a few hours of rest before they continued, since they were both almost too tired to move.
That's not happening now. Not with Zoey in the mix
As his eyes wandered, he spotted a choppy pink haircut at a table on the other side of the room, and he scowled.
Speak of the devil. Well, the half-devil.
He stood, irritated, and made his way to her.
She was sitting at a tall table, her legs dangling off of the barstool. She was facing away from him, silent, a beer in front of her that was seemingly untouched.
He approached until his chest was almost touching her back. "Thought you were going to give us time to talk, Zo."
She didn't turn around. "As I recall, you approached my table, Dean. I was giving you time. And don't call me Zo."
He scowled again and moved around her to sit next to her. "What are you doing here?"
She arched an eyebrow at him. "First of all, I'm doing whatever I want. Second, when did you buy the bar? I wasn't aware that you owned it. And third of all…" She thought for a second. "Well, third of all, fuck you."
He smirked. "Clever."
She smirked back. "Cleverer than you."
The song changed, something with a catchy beat and someone wailing into the microphone. He winced. "This is awful," he griped, temporarily forgetting himself.
She took it in stride and shrugged, her foot kicking along to the tune. "A hundred years gives one perspective on music. At least it's not yodeling."
It was his turn to cock an eyebrow. "Yodeling?"
She smiled. "I spent some time in the Alps. I had joined a group of rather cheerful, often very drunk monks. In the evenings, they would yodel to entertain themselves. I almost clawed my ears off."
He stopped for a second, then found himself tossing his head back and laughing.
When he looked at her again, there was a warm smile on her face. It suited her better than the cynical, bitchy smile she'd let him see before.
He sobered. "Why are you helping us?"
Instead of a snarky answer, which is what he'd expected, she looked at him frankly. "Because you have the best shot at beating the devil, and I know for a fact that I can. I just need you to help me lure him in." She smiled again. "So, really, you're helping me."
He hmphed and leaned back in his barstool, surveying the crowd. "So what are you really doing here?"
She shrugged. "Wanted to make sure you didn't bolt. And make sure you didn't get hurt. You three have made an art out of getting into trouble, and I don't have time to fuck around with it."
He smiled. "You know, for someone who talks about there being no need for profanity…"
She batted her eyes. "Am I offending the lady's delicate ears, Mrs. Winchester?"
For the second time that night, Dean tossed his head back and laughed.
When he calmed down, he looked at her again, and jumped at the sight of the two men standing behind her. "God dammit, Cass!"
Zoey, who hadn't moved an iota, laughed, the bubbly sound (which did not suit her personality) carrying through the bar.
She turned around and smiled. "Sit, gentlemen. I don't bite." She seemed to think for a moment. "Well, not in front of all these people, anyway."
Sam chuckled and slid into the seat next to Dean. Since the table was round, that left Cass the seat between Sam and Zoey. He eyed her suspiciously as he slowly took the chair.
They sat in companionable silence while Sam and Cass ordered a drink (beer for both, though they knew Cass's would go untouched, like Zoey's was).
Once the beer was there, Sam looked at Zoey. "So… Zoey, you, uh, you look good for a hundred and four."
She smiled. "Yes, one of the perks of being a Cambion is apparently long life." She twirled a finger in the air. "Bully for me."
Sam sat forward eagerly. "You must have seen so much. Done so much."
Castiel frowned. "I have seen the entirety of human existence."
Before Dean could, Zoey shook her head. "It's not the same, Castiel. Being on the ground, living with it, living around humans is much different than just seeing history." At Sam's curious look, she gave him a sad smile. "Don't ask me questions, Sam. History isn't glamorous. It's bloody and cruel and terrible. So don't ask me any questions you don't really want the answer to."
There was an awkward silence, then Zoey spoke again.
"Not for nothing, Castiel, but the last time someone looked at me like that, they took me to bed."
The angel frowned. "The last time someone looked at you with distrust?"
Dean saw something flash in Zoey's eyes before she smiled. "I'm very persuasive."
xxxxx
The next morning, Castiel sensed the Cambion outside the motel door.
He frowned. Dean and Sam were still asleep, so he teleported from the room to just outside the door.
She didn't jump, she just looked at him evenly. She smiled and held up a bakery bag and a cardboard drink tray full of coffees. "Good morning, Castiel. I brought breakfast so we don't have to talk on empty stomachs."
He stared at her. "You shouldn't have come. I don't think the Winchesters want to work with the Antichrist."
She blinked, and Castiel watched her back straighten. It was strange, like she was less of herself now. She was colder, withdrawn. He was not sure how he felt about the change.
"Well, no offense, but I think I'd like to hear Dean say it, if you don't mind." There was a beat of silence, then, "You ass."
He frowned. "I don't trust you."
She smiled. "That's because you're smart, Castiel." She took a deep breath and let it out in an explosive gust. "Look, I understand, I do. I wouldn't trust me in your shoes, either." She met his eyes, and Castiel could see her real eyes, behind the fake green irises she put up. "But you're going to have to. I'm your best shot at Lucifer, and you know it. I'm the best way to do it without one of those men in there dying."
Castiel frowned again. She was correct, but he did not like it. She was half demon. She could not be trusted.
He was saved from answering by Dean opening the door, blinking at them. "What the hell are you two doing out here?"
xxxxx
Zoey sat at the table in the small motel room, her nose wrinkled. She hadn't realized how gross it was the night before, and now she felt like she need to take a shower. Possibly in hand sanitizer.
She looked up at the Winchesters, who had just finished eating. She had given Castiel a black coffee, but he just held it. It was more out of good manners than anything that she had gotten it in the first place.
"Have you reached a decision, then? Group effort?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light.
She was nervous. She knew that she could take Lucifer, she could feel it in her bones. But it would be a hell of a lot easier to find the bastard if she had two of the best hunters on the planet helping her.
Plus an annoying angel with really spectacular blue eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, we have," Dean said, his mouth still full of food. Zoey wrinkled her nose again in disgust. "We'll say yes, but I have a condition."
She frowned. "What condition?"
"You gotta meet Bobby."
xxxxx
Hi everyone! Here's my notes:
I own only Zoey Crane, the original character. I don't own Supernatural or the characters. (heartbroken)
Reviews and comments give me the warm fuzzies and keep me going.
If there are any mistakes in continuity, canon, or geography, blame me.
**Okay, gotta be honest, I did not see Zoey and Castiel happening. But, and I always feel a little stupid saying this, but sometimes these characters take on a mind of their own. I truly thought she'd get with Dean. But she chose Castiel instead. Go figure.