FUN FACT: The sooner I get reviews, the more I get excited to write more, and so I do so very quickly and usually have a lot of inspiration to where I finish the next chapter, as this is the case right now.

So, here is yet another chapter around 2,500 words; just for you wonderful people who are so excited for more! :)

There's a new POV in this story, by the by.

REMINDER: " ... " means a time skip; " xxx " means a POV change.

Review, favorite/follow, etc. if you like it! And Review no matter what, because I love constructive reviews! Let's me know what you guys think and what you want, and it can help me with more inspiration for the next chapter.

Enjoy~

Chapter 7: Complication is a Bitch

I honestly could not believe what I did the night before. It was completely against all that I had worked for—it was something incredibly unlawful and uncalled for. Yet, there I was; waking up from the couch of a house that was not mine, and not entirely feeling guilty for helping a criminal get away with something just so I could "understand how a thief's mind works."

I felt my heart rate rise as I realized I wasn't in my own bed, but then remembered that I got too tired to head back home, and so I slept uncomfortably on Crowley's couch. I scratched my head and then rubbed my eyes, squinting from the first sight of sun.

I walked around the large house in search of Crowley, but he was nowhere to be found. I reached the kitchen and noticed a green stickynote pad on the counter with some writing on it. I rubbed my eyes more to take away the blur in my vision and stared at the paper until I could read it.

Cassie,

I'm out to find a buyer for the bone—I'll see you around. Stick around if you'd like, but it looks like you got a call from the police station (your phone was ringing while I was leaving). You may want to hurry on over there. It's probably about the mysterious disappearance of the bone. Don't worry about the door; it will lock after you walk out.

Tata,

Crowley

Reading about the station calling me caused me to panic. I rushed over to my phone to check to see when they called. It was around two hours ago, and the current time was ten in the morning. I was supposed to have the day off, but it looked like I caused this to happen. I then noticed that they left a voicemail—I checked it quickly.

"Officer Castiel—This is Sheriff Mills. I need you here as soon as you can, you hear? We have something that came up that we need your help with. We also have two people we need you to meet."

I could tell that my heart wasn't going to stop racing anytime soon. I took a deep breath and started to call back while I ran over to my car—which wasn't actually there. I had forgotten that Crowley picked me up—

"Castiel, glad to hear from you," Sheriff Mills' voice interrupted my next panic attack.

"Hello, Sheriff. I slept a little later than expected and didn't worry since I wasn't to go to the station today," I tried to let out as smoothly as possible.

"You still sound pretty tired. Can you make it over now?"

"Yes, I believe I can arrive there soon but, I… I need to get ready first," I said as I realized I had none of my things with me.

"Just make it here as soon as you can and I'll be happy. Talk to you later," she rushed through her words and hung up. It seemed as though she was in a hurry to hang up so she could continue talking to someone who was there with her. Maybe it was those two people she said I was to meet. Either way, I needed to rush, but had no clue how I was going to. I couldn't exactly run home and then run to the station. That would take a total of an hour or more.

Since this house of Crowley's was located in a gated community, I decided to talk to the guard at the gate to ask for bus information.

"Hello, I have a question," I asked.

"Hello, sir! How can I help you?" she asked pleasantly.

"Yes, actually. Is there a bus that comes here often, or do you have a bus schedule or maybe know the nearest—"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but are you Castiel?"

I stared at her for a moment, a bit confused. "Yes, I am Castiel… How did you know?"

"You fit the description Mr. Crowley left of you perfectly," she smiled at me.

"I—"

"He asked me to tell you that he left his car here for you. Oh, and here are the keys!" She tossed them across the counter of the security booth. "The only other thing he said was to 'not worry; I will get it back from you later. Just give me a call.' And, oh, there's a keychain with a number on it with the keys that says where his parking spot is."

"Oh," I was at a loss for words, "Thank you, uh, Miss—?"

"Naomi, if you please," she smiled again.

"Yes, thank you… Naomi," I smiled back as I rushed over, looking for the parking space. I finally found it, but noticed this was another car. It was a black Camry, looking like it was from maybe 2012. Well, I thought to myself, I guess that he has the money to have multiple cars. Anyway, I jumped into the car and went straight for my house so I could quickly shower and change into my uniform.

…

I arrived at the station around a half hour after talking to Sheriff Mills and rushed inside to find her standing there with two men in suits. One was the height of a skyscraper, and the other one was not as tall but definitely had more height than me. When the door closed behind me, the three of them turned around, making me feel a bit awkward.

"Ah, this is Officer Castiel. Castiel, these are private investigators Sam and Dean Winchester," Sheriff Mills gestured to the two.

"Hello, nice to meet you," I tried to smile as I took their hands one after another to shake.

"Same here," the one Mills pointed to as Sam replied with a smile.

"Yep," was all that Dean said. He seemed a lot more reserved.

"I want you three to become close friends really soon because I need you to work together on this case," she clasped her hands together. I was hoping she wasn't talking about the stolen bone.

"What case are we talking about?" I asked, hoping to dear God that I didn't have to deal with what I thought I had to.

"Didn't you hear about the stolen artifact from the local museum?" Mills lifted an eyebrow. Of course it would be about the bone—what else would it be? I mentally kicked myself for being so naïve.

"Ah, yes—I saw it in passing in the newspaper when I was getting ready," I felt my heart rate rise again. Good thing nobody can see or hear it.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say that this incident really shocked you," Dean mentioned with a serious look on his face with his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"Well, yes, I mean… Isn't this the first time an attempt succeeded?" I tried to play off my nervous state in a smooth manner. I don't really think I achieved it, though.

"I believe so; this person definitely knows their way around and didn't leave anything messy, unlike any other attempts made," Sam nodded in agreement while looking in a small, black notebook.

"So, the Sheriff here is kind enough to let us work on the case with one of her 'best,' as she has said herself," Dean smiled briefly and I could tell that he was observing me. I didn't entirely like the way he was watching me suspiciously.

"All right, boys! Have at it. Let me know if there's anything you need. Any questions before I leave?"

"Yes, actually. Why are there two sheriffs in town?" Dean asked.

"Oh, it's a funny story, actually. Sheriff Singer, though we call him that, is sort of in-training? From another county, you know." She patted me and Sam on the shoulders and walked off.

"So, let's have at it, then," Sam smiled.

xxx

It was around midnight and I was relaxing on my armchair with some scotch in my hand when I heard my phone ring on the table next to me.

"'Ello, Castiel. Disappeared today, eh? Everything go well at the station?" I took a sip from my cup. There wasn't an answer for a while, so I checked to make sure I was still connected to the call. "Cas?"

"Yes, sorry; I am here. I am just exhausted right now. I just got out of…"

"Hmm? Sorry, dear, I can't hear what you said. Out of what?"

"Um, the station…" His voice seemed reluctant, which I found strange for him, since he'd been getting more comfortable talking to me.

"Was it about the bone?"

"Yeah—uh, Sheriff Mills just wanted me to work around the station while she and a few others worked on the case…"

"Really? That was it? So much better than I expected, honestly," I smiled to myself at the sound of the news.

I heard Cassie chuckle nervously on the other line. "Yeah," he said, "Me, too. Uh, look, I'm tired but do you think I could come over so we could possibly start looking in to where Bela is?"

"You never want to just see me for me, hon; it breaks my heart," I teased.

"I, uh, ha," was all he came out with and then paused for a few moments, presumably waiting for me to say more. "Is—is that okay?" he breathed.

"Yes, of course it is. The faster we find her the better," I replied.

…

Once he finally arrived and walked in, I could already sense something different about him. He seemed on edge and very jumpy, but he wasn't explaining why. I would ask him if he was sure that he was all right, and he would reply that he was still anxious about the other night and afraid that he would get caught. Fair enough. The poor boy had gone through a lot lately.

"How do we track her now?" he asked after I gave him a glass of water to calm his nerves.

"Honestly, I believe your hacking skills can help us," I winked at him.

"What—no, I thought we were done with that!" I could sense the distress in the poor baby's voice.

"You're using it for good now; not bad. Why don't you calm down a little bit?" I grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to sit down. "Goodness, your nervousness is getting to me. Stop pacing; you're driving me insane, sweetheart." I rubbed my forehead and sighed. "I don't know if you'll be able to work under these conditions—"

"N-no, I'm… fine. I don't want to wait," he said as he put down his glass on the coffee table.

"All I was going to say was that you can use your skills to look into security cameras around the area, past footage, et cetera. Understand? In addition to that, we will be talking to many different people. I have a few people I can 'trust' as long as I have something they want." I leaned back on the couch and crossed my arms across my chest while eyeing him.

He was still wearing his cop uniform and I must say that it fit him well. He noticed me looking at him and chuckled, "I look stupid in this, don't I?" He then took off his hat and threw it at me playfully. "By the way," he continued speaking, "Thanks for letting me use your car. I wasn't expecting that."

"It was nothing. I realized you didn't have a way to get home and the bus is no where in your league—so I decided leaving you with the car for the day would be best," I patted him on the back and felt tempted to keep my hand there, but I soon laughed at myself and mentally said no, he already has enough freaking him out now.

Castiel was still in thought and then finally said, "Oh, can you drop me off at my place? I don't want to keep your car from you any longer…" He twiddled his thumbs and didn't make eye contact. I still felt like something was wrong that he wasn't telling me.

Before I could ask him again, his phone rang and he jumped almost ten feet in the air. He then quickly grasped his phone and answered it almost out of breath.

"Yes, hello? Oh, yeah, hey there, Dean. Isn't this a bit late for a phone call?" he glanced over at me nervously; I could tell he wanted the call to end. I had no clue why, though. Probably just wanted to spend time with me—ha, I'm joking, lovelies (partially). "I'm kind of busy right now; can you—can you call back tomorrow morning? Yeah, yeah. That's ok, I understand. Thanks. Okay. Bye." He hung up and put the phone down next to him fretfully.

"A friend?" I asked, curious.

"Yeah, um, I guess so. Not sure why he was calling so late, heh," he scratched the back of his neck.

"Okay, Cas, can I be frank with you?" I turned to face him and put my hands down on my knees.

He faced me back and cocked his head to the side, a bit confused; "Yes, of course."

"I think you should relax for tonight. Do something fun, or maybe just go to sleep. We can start working on the chase tomorrow—we won't be able to talk to people until then, anyway. What do you say, dearie?"

"What do you mean by having fun, exactly?" he asked.

"I don't know—what do you normally do?"

No response. It honestly seemed like this man never had fun in his life nor did he know the meaning of the word.

"All right, how about we put in a movie and you can continue to be boring but the two of us can still have fun? Tomorrow will be our big day."

xxx

"What happened?"

"He didn't seem to want to talk. He was 'busy' with whatever he was doing," Dean closed the motel door behind him and dropped on his back on the other bed. "I figured I'd be nice and apologize for being a bit… cold. I just got a really strange vibe at first—but he's a cool guy. He took the compliment like a pro and hung up as soon as he could."

"Is it just me or are you upset about this?"

"What?" he scoffed. "No, of course not. I was just trying to be friendly. Was hoping for some in return."

I laughed for a few seconds which caused Dean to give me a bitchface. It was completely worth it, to be honest. "Dean, the poor guy was trying to be as nice as possible to the two of us during the whole entire day."

"Whatever," was his reply, "But, anyway, do you think that all those interrogations really brought us anywhere?"

"Well they didn't exactly take us away from our original theory, so I take that as bringing us somewhere. There are a few people who may fit the description of the Thief of Hell. Get this: there is a Bela Talbot who is being accused for stealing a precious jewelry but she took off and no one knows where she is, and there was a man apparently wrongly arrested for it. His name is Crowley."

"Sounds like we should look into them more. Tomorrow," he replied, half asleep.

"Yeah, okay, we'll do that tomorrow," I shook my head with a soft laugh and closed my laptop. I figured that sleep would probably be a good thing to do—the next day would be a big day.