Chapter 3: Pride is Merely a Sign of Success

We finally reached the local police station, and Castiel put his car in park, looking behind him and right at me. I was sitting comfortably in the back, minding my own business and observing the inside of the car. I looked over at him and smiled without saying a word.

He kept staring at me, unsure of what to say, so I interrupted his thoughts: "Officer… Now, don't get me wrong—I know you know your job and I shouldn't be asking you because I'm sure you are going to—but isn't this the part where you take me out of the car and stuff me into one of those filthy cells in the station?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he eyed me, "Why didn't you fight back?"

"What, and get my clothes wrinkled or ripped in the process? I also wouldn't want to hurt you and your pretty face," I added the last part with a grin.

His face was full of confusion, "But why?"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" I wiggled my shoulders in frustration since I could not move my trapped hands behind me. "Because. I like you. I didn't see hurting you as an option."

Castiel chuckled, shaking his head and looking down, "How can a thief like a cop?"

"Thief is such an insulting word. I would take offense to that if it wasn't you talking, my dear Cas," was all I said in reply.

The cute officer's eyes widened slightly as he scoped the car as if anyone else could be overhearing our conversation in there. "You should not talk to me in that way."

"In what way?"

"The way you have been talking to me."

"I don't see how I'd talk any differently."

"I mean the way you have been very informal with me," he croaked.

"Oh, that's what you people call it?" I kept smiling and crossed one leg over the other. I could tell he was clenching his teeth together tightly because his jaw muscles were working very hard under his skin.

"You know you can get in trouble for that, and even get a longer time in jail, right?" Castiel let out softly, as if it were a secret.

"Now, now, Cas, I know who to speak to in this way. I know you're the type of person who wouldn't try to get me in trouble for it." He shifted in his seat as I watched him. "Am I right?"

"Unless you got overbearing, I believe so, yes…" I could tell he was getting more and more uncomfortable with the situation. I did also notice, though, that he did nothing in his power to stop it. Which he could do easily, you know, since he was a cop and all. He turned off the car and finally walked out, opening my door for me.

As soon as I started to move, he grabbed my arm by the bicep, I guess, for assurance. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't run away, and I was okay with that, seeing as how his arm was practically locking mine. I'm sorry, if you haven't noticed, I'd taken a liking to this beautiful mess dragging me off towards my cell.

...

I was put in a nifty, old cell—the bed didn't feel too uncomfortable, and it was also really public. Anyone would be able to see me there, no matter what I was doing. I shrugged, not really caring; it wasn't even like they got to my money. Oh, for heaven's sake, no! I made sure to hide that buggar right after receiving it. They weren't looking for that money, per se, but more for that necklace that I sold to that lovely lady whom I'd rather see in a ditch than in the same room as me. They questioned me and I told them everything that wouldn't hurt me, like where my house was. I made sure to keep all the dirty work away from home. That way, were anything like this to happen, it would be all dandy if the police decided to give the place a little visit.

After it was apparent that I had nothing in my house, they decided to pay me another visit. I sighed and sat up from the rather-comfy-considering bed but then smiled when I noticed who was standing in front of me and next to the Sheriff.

"We would like another word with you," the Sheriff looked at me with cold eyes. I glanced over at Castiel who was just… Standing there. He had a determined look on his face—determined for what, I had no idea. He seemed a bit calmer than how he was in the car, but then again he was now with a superior to keep him safe from this dangerous thief. I smiled at the thought of it—at the thought that he could be scared of me.

Once in the interrogation room, (oh, and don't forget nicely-tied-up-and-handcuffed-to-a-chair), the Sheriff stood by the door in the shadows. I waited for him to walk up, but it didn't seem like he was moving—although it was really hard to tell with the flickering light above us that was dimmer than a drunken man. What I could notice was that Officer Castiel was making his way towards me and sat down at the other side of the table. I then raised an eyebrow.

He nervously looked over at the Sheriff, who seemed to have nodded his head. Once those scrumptious, baby blue eyes met with mine, he moved his gaze. It seemed like he was worried that I would steal his eyes away if he looked at me for too long. If he did think that, I would assure him that I would steal a lot more if he let me. But, anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself.

"We searched your house and there was nothing there. You must have another place where you keep your stolen belongings," he started.

"You can't prove that," I replied politely.

"Unless you tell us about it," he continued.

"Unless I actually don't have one."

"I don't appreciate your circular logic," he replied, leaning forward.

"You are the one who is pushing a subject that doesn't even exist," I leaned forward as well and looked up at him. He immediately leaned back and stared at his hands before him. He twiddled his thumbs for a bit, then intertwined his fingers and looked back up at me, almost shyly.

"We can't really keep him locked up for a crime we have no concrete evidence for," the Sheriff sighed.

"But, sir, I saw him at the mall the night of the crime—and then he was at a 'thieves only' pub that no one knows about except for the thieves themselves!" Cas stood up to face him.

"Maybe I am an innocent bystander who noticed the crime and has been trying to crack it?" I suggested through a shrug, "Did you not consider that?"

Castiel and the Sheriff exchanged looks, and then focused on me again. Well, I had a point, didn't I? They had no evidence against me, so I could just be someone trying to help. A little white lie doesn't affect anyone. In fact… I had a lovely idea.

"I think I know who did it."

"What?" They both looked at me as if I had seven heads.

"Lovely young lady—she goes by many names. Christa, Jamie, Regina… Yadda yadda, and the list goes on. Many of the thieves seem to know her by one name, though: Bela Talbot. Look her up; I'm sure you'll find something."

Castiel looked at me with disbelief. He knew that I was lying about me not being a thief—hell, earlier I practically handed him a letter saying that. The Sheriff, though—no, he had no reason to doubt me. For all he knew, I was just a poor lad who got caught in a sticky mess due to some curiosity.

"Sir—Crowley—If you wouldn't mind us keeping in touch with you? We'd like to know about this Bela. And even though we have no hard proof against you, you are still a hell of a suspect, so maybe you can prove yourself to us by looking into this whole deal since the thieves seem to trust you enough," the Sheriff asked. Oh, of course he wasn't asking. It was more of an order than anything. I know he wouldn't take no for an answer. Besides—it would only make me seem more suspicious. And, also, I didn't mind. I would always like to shed some light on the whereabouts of Miss Talbot. She brought enough trouble to me in the past than she was really worth. If this got me on good terms with the police, too, that was a plus.

"Of course, Sheriff. Do you need my phone number?"

...

After ignoring Castiel's objections and telling him to stop worrying, the Sheriff ordered him to lead me outside, and uncuffed. Once we got outside, Castiel didn't let go of my arm—he turned the corner.

"Weren't you supposed to let me—"

Castiel shoved me against his car and held an arm up to my throat. "What the hell do you think you're doing; lying to him like that?" he growled. Ow, ow! Him showing some dominance made me shiver with joy.

"Hold on, dear, you're making me feel the butterflies; being so close," I replied with a grin on my face.

"I'm not joking, Crowley. How the hell did you get to hide things so easily, and how did you get to convince him?" he whispered sharply, his eyes piercing into mine with no problem this time. Hn, funny how his personality changed so quickly. Not that I minded.

"What? You didn't have sufficient evidence against me—no money, no damn jewelry—nothing in my house, either! I know that Bela has the necklace. I can help you reach her," I tried to push him off of me gently.

"But you sold it to her, didn't you?" he growled.

I was getting a bit tired of the games, so I looked at him with a serious face and replied: "Yes. But she is worth way more than I ever will be. She has hurt people, Cas, I just take what I need." I swear on my life and my mother and etc., etc., that this is the truth. Not everyone is a filthy crook. I am quite the clean one.

He kept staring at me, but I could tell that the control he found was slipping through his fingers. "You could drag me back in the police office if you still want to fight to cage me in," I added. I could tell he was unwilling to do so because he loosened his grip on me. I then took that opportunity to grab his arm and keep him pressed against me. "Didn't think so."

Letting go of me, he tried to pull away. I kept him there, and his eyes darted away from mine. "You are a lovely man, Castiel," I whispered to him as I pushed him off gently. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. I leaned it against the car and scribbled quickly on it, and then handed it to him.

"What is this…?" his gravelly voice uttered slowly. His brows furrowed in confusion—it was quite cute.

"Oh, nothing; just my number. Keep it or throw it away. You interest me. A lot," I then moved my face closer to his; I observed the entirety of it. I then noticed that his pink, smooth and differently-but-in-no-way-badly-shaped lips looked even better under the dim lamppost light above us. I chuckled to myself at my silly thoughts, but come on, this man was simply scrumptious and irresistible. I caught a whiff of his smell and was content with that for now. I could tell that I took him by surprise—he was frozen solid even after I moved away from him.

"Good night to you, sweetie," I saluted and walked off feeling cocky, prideful, and at the top of the world.