Title: Lost and Found

Chapter: 23

Notes: “Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it.” is a quote from ‘Big Trouble in Little China’.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, I used to think that hunters had to be smarter than the average person,” Sam mused, hanging up the phone. “To know what we do, do what we do, and stay alive for any amount of time. Come to find out though, half of us are bone stupid, a fourth are pretty good, and the rest just have a good Wizard of Oz backing us. This is a very disappointing revelation.”

Ellen flipped a page in a file from one of the boxes. She’d been studying it with the sort of concentration Dean usually gave a really good cheeseburger. “Who’d you talk to?”

“Alex. And Garth. Melissa…..”

“They’ll keep calling back, too. Garth has a memory like a sieve. I think Alex is just too lazy to do his own research and Melissa? Girl needs to learn looks won’t get her everywhere. I fully expect she’ll be dead in a year.”

“Don’t think I’ve met Melissa.”

“Gwen hates her. Calls her ‘Hunter Barbie’, which gave Jo the giggles for an hour, because Jo said pretty much the same thing. We helped Mel out a few times. It’s not that she’s dumb, because she’s not. She’s smart. Was a model at one point who got in the life when her photographer boyfriend took pictures of something he shouldn’t and it came after them. She’s too used to using her looks to get places, though. I keep telling her to buckle down and get serious.”

“Some don’t. Or won’t. I can’t believe how some of them are still alive when so many good ones died.”

Ellen looked up and smiled thinly. “Sam, the good ones died because we were the ones willing to take on the nasty, risky jobs to make headway in war. Now we’re left with the less than competent ones who need guidance. Those of us that remain have a duty to teach them so the bad things don’t gain any ground again.”

He nodded. “I know. The ‘next generation’ of hunters.” He wondered what Dean would say about that. Probably a few choice words.

Ellen closed the file folder and sat down. She’d been sorting folders, making a semblance of order out of what they were finding. “You seeing a pattern in these boxes, Sam?”

“They’re generational?”

“Some. No, I mean the case files.”

He slid down in his chair and propped a foot on the chair opposite him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the reoccurring theme in what we’ve seen so far.”

Sam thought a minute. The files he’d looked at were incomplete and unfinished, either abandoned or simply not recorded as finished, but there was a common thread in them. “Demons?”

Ellen nodded. “And witches. Connected. Almost like they were trying to follow certain demons and witch lines.”

“Lines?”

She smiled. “They pass down their knowledge to family, too, Sam.”

“Wait, you don’t think the Campbell’s….” He trailed off, not willing to consider that maybe his ancestors were not the sterling examples of hunters Samuel had always insisted they were.

“No, not them. I think maybe they were trying to keep tabs on some demons and witches, track them through the years and keep ahead of threats.”

“Maybe that’s why Samuel wants the boxes back. He needs them to do his work.”

“Yeah, but knowing what he was up to with Crowley makes me suspicious that he wants them for other reasons.”

“To raise another demon?”

“You think it’s possible?”

Sam laughed. It was more than possible in his opinion, it was probable. “I think he’d do anything to get mom back.”

Ellen licked her lips. “Sam…. You know I’d do anything for Jo, but if I was alive and she was still dead and had been for as many years as Mary has, I’d let her rest in peace. I’d concentrate on getting to know whatever children she’d had. Don’t you think his insistence on raising her is a little…I don’t know…a little skeevy? Why her? Why not his wife? Why not get to know you and Dean, the living?”

Sam looked away. “I’ve been trying not to think on the why, Ellen. I don’t want to know. And family to you means far more than it does to him.” He looked back at her. “I’d much rather claim you as family.”

“You’re sweet.” She reached into an open box. “There are answers here to something, I can feel it. All we have to do --”

“-- is find the needle in the haystack when we don’t know what the needle looks like or how big it is.” He took the file she held out to him and began to read.

~~~~~~~~~~

Married.

Dean lounged on the bed while Jo went to see about getting some ice. He’d showered, but hadn’t gotten dressed yet, flipping back and forth between Motor Trend and Someone Like You while he thought about being married.

So far, it felt no different than dating Jo. He supposed it’d feel different once they began tackling the issues they’d yet to discuss. He wanted her to take his name and for them to have some sort of place together, whether it was a house or apartment. It’d be good for them both to have a room at least to call their own aside from Bobby’s house, though he was perfectly comfortable crashing there. Dean just thought Jo would like to maybe decorate her own space, have a tv that worked more than intermittently, and not be afraid to have a quickie in the kitchen for fear that her mother -- or Bobby, Sam, or Gwen -- would walk in.

They needed to talk about hunting and make arrangements regarding it. How were they going to work cases? Was she going to stay with Ellen and Gwen and he with Sam? Would they all work together like a team; like the Campbells had? He could see advantages in that and disadvantages as well. Perhaps they could blend the two ideas? Choose cases a bit more carefully, with a sort of structured plan?

His mind whirled with ideas to bring up with her, then with Sam, Gwen, Ellen, and Bobby.

Dean laid an arm behind his head.

His perspective was changing and he supposed maybe it was a step in growing older. After all, he was a man in his thirties now. His priorities were becoming different and he knew Sam’s were as well. They were both older and running around like they were twenty wasn’t going to cut it much longer. They needed to be mature hunters, not stupid ones, and as Bobby was always telling him, stupid hunters stagnated in their own ideas while smart ones changed what no longer worked for them.

Bobby had certainly changed. He was always working up something new, trying out some tidbit he’d discovered from research, such as burning the bones of a demon did the same thing it did to ghosts. Hell, Bobby was even starting a romance with Sheriff Mills. That took balls. Dean decided he’d do well to imitate Bobby in some areas.

Sam was changing as well. As much as he tried to hide it, he was envious of Dean’s relationship with Jo. He tried to hide the longing, but Dean saw it. He wanted that life too. Maybe if Dean showed him it could work….

The door opened.

“Honestly, Dean….”

Jo’s voice was strange, a little off and he started to grin, thinking she was teasing when she went on, but then he wasn’t so sure and he couldn’t stop the words that came out of his mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~

The rings on Jo’s finger looked every bit as good once the hangover was gone. She admired them a brief second before giving the ice machine a gentle tap with her foot. Despite the raging hangover she’d had, she’d count today as one of the very happiest in her life. Her first day as a married woman.

Jo smiled and kicked the machine again, this time harder. It made a groaning noise.

A happy day, yet daunting at the same time. Her smile faltered.

They were going to have to sort out a few legalities, like whether or not she was taking his name, not to mention how they wanted to handle that money they’d won. She supposed they could keep gambling it, but it’d be nice to keep some as reserves for buying supplies and such. She’d have to suggest that later.

And there were other things to discuss, such as living arrangements, hunting arrangements….

Her stomach made a little lurch that had nothing to do with the remnants of her hangover.

Marriage was a life changing step and they’d become engaged and married within hours.

My God, Jo thought, a sudden realization hitting her. Mom’s going to think I’m knocked up.

They were going to have to be careful how they told her about their marriage.

With a final pounding on the machine, Jo lifted the ice bucket.

The ice machine was broken, or if it worked, she couldn’t get it to produce any ice. She sighed. Oh well. They’d just get some from another floor after they came back from dinner. She left the tiny room. Fancy hotel like this, you’d think the ice machine tucked away in in a discreet room at the end of one hall would actually work. It appeared to be universal that ice machines in motels and hotels never worked. She’d rarely had luck with one. Jo turned the corner by the elevator, musing upon the things she and Dean should probably talk about first.

Standing waiting there, facing the elevator, was a man. Jo automatically assessed him. Average height, blond hair, neatly clipped beard. Looked completely bored. He glanced at her and smiled as she passed. Jo could almost feel his gaze on her and was nearly to the door to the room when he spoke.

“Oh, Jo?”

She whirled, eyes narrowing. “How do you know my name? Do I know you?”

The elevator dinged. “Congratulations. You and Dean make a lovely couple.” He raised a hand, waggling the fingers at her. “Ta-ta, darling.”

She hurried back towards the elevator, but he stepped in, the door closed, and he was gone.

What the hell?

A million thoughts as to who or what he could be whirled in her mind, along with the resolution to talk to Dean about it the second she walked in the room.

All was forgotten, however, the instant she opened the door and saw Dean still in his socks and underwear, lounging on the bed flipping channels. Irritation welled up, a rush she couldn’t hold in as she stepped into the room and closed the door. “Honestly, Dean. You’d think we didn’t have a reservation in half an hour.”

His expression was puzzled and he even began to grin before suddenly he frowned, annoyance traveling across his face. “Don’t nag me about it. Motor Trend is on. It’ll be off in five minutes.”

“Isn’t hard to watch it when you never actually stop on a channel for ten seconds?” She set the ice bucket down on the dresser with more force than necessary.

“I have plenty of time to get dressed and go downstairs.”

“Half an hour.” She tapped her watch with a finger. “If we’re not there, they’ll give our table away.”

He snorted. “Like there’s not about ten million restaurants in Vegas. I think we’ll be able to find a place to eat.”

“You mean another buffet. Because I like overcooked meat, soggy side dishes, and unidentifiable vegetables. The last one you picked was tops, honey.”

“I asked you where you wanted to eat. You said to pick a place so I did. There’s always room service, Miss Picky Eater.”

She crossed her arms. “So now you don’t want to take me out?”

“Did I say that?”

“It was implied,” she snapped, a little worried about how her mouth was suddenly disconnected from her brain at present.

“Not if you’re gonna be bitchy.”

“I’m not bitching, Dean. I’m simply suggesting you might wanna get dressed before our reservation time.” Jo couldn’t stop the urge to argue, one impulse she had no control over.

“I’ll get dressed when I’m damn good and ready. Maybe I’ll go downstairs like this.” He gestured at himself.

Jo snorted and rolled her eyes. “I’d pay money to see that.”

“How much?”

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning had begun with blessed quiet, frozen waffles, and Ellen’s excellent coffee. Gwen lounged in her pajamas on the couch, watching Sam and Ellen do research for yet another hunter that had called, clueless on what to do. She’d undertake the task of showering with her cast in a bit, then get dressed and join them.

Ellen’s cell phone buzzed, Sam’s a second later. Gwen grabbed her own phone and waited.

“Jo, calm down….Yeah, men are stupid, inconsiderate jerks….He what?….No….Why are you upset? I thought you knew….Oh, I see….That is a heinous crime….No, that wasn’t sarcasm --” She looked at her phone. “She hung up on me.”

Across the room, Sam was having a similar conversation, looking very confused.

“She what?….Well, girls take a lot of time in the….I didn’t realize it was possible to run out of hot water in a hotel room….Oh….but you knew….No, I’m not taking her side, I’m --” He lowered his phone. “He hung up on me.”

Gwen’s phone began to buzz with text messages over and over. One would arrive before she’d even responded to the last one. First Jo, then Dean, one right after the other in a furious rush of messages that made no sense. Gwen stopped trying to reply and soon the buzzing stopped. “You know, that’s like the third time today that’s happened and it’s not even noon yet. Maybe Sam and I should head for Vegas and check it out. See what’s up. We could catch a show or two, hit one of those buffets Dean is always talking about.”

“You’re on crutches, Gwen,” he reminded her.

“But Vegas is an accessible city. If you’re concerned, we could take the wheelchair and you could wheel me around.”

“Translation,” Ellen began, “she’s bored out of her skull since the tv is on the fritz again and we haven’t actually found anything in those boxes except mysteries without apparent answers.”

“Oh, I am bored,” Gwen agreed. Usually she was pretty good at keeping herself busy, but having a cast somewhat hampered her usual activities. “I long for DIY and HGTV. BBC America. I’m so bored I’d even watch Lifetime movies right about now.”

Sam came over to her. “Why don’t we have another look at those boxes?”

She tilted her head back to look up at him. “They’re Bobby’s now, not mine and I’m sick of them.”

“Come on,” he coaxed.

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “But if tomorrow is like this too, where they call only to complain about each other, we head for Vegas, because Jo and Dean don’t bitch about each other like they have been. Something’s wrong.”

“I agree. Deal. We’ll give them another day and if they’re still like this, we’ll ride to the rescue.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It was time for another lesson on family. This time, the emphasis was going to be on the proper loving relationship between a couple. Castiel thought Dean and Jo would be a good example. They were a romantic couple and they were loving, fully fitting his criteria. He was pleased with how well Abigael was soaking up the knowledge he had to impart. She watched him closely, listening to every word as though he was, well, God talking to her.

It was nice to have someone listen to him, unlike Uzziel, who listened but did whatever he wanted anyway. Uzziel shared that irritating trait with both Winchesters. He cast a glance up at the sky, but resisted the urge to head for heaven to see what Uzziel was doing right now. Give his idea time, Castiel told himself.

He strode along the hallway towards Dean and Jo’s room, Abigael beside him, giving her a bit of background before they went into the suite. “This relationship has been a very long time coming in human standards. Dean was afraid to let himself love romantically for years, but now he’s close to admitting to Jo how much he does love her. She, like Sam, is another treasure in his heart. Saying the words is difficult for him. As for Jo, she dreamed of falling in love from the time she was small, yet the reality is much more than what she dreamed it to be. She feels blessed to have Dean in her life and is truly grateful for each moment she has with him.”

“Oh. I understand.” The words were spoken in a fervent tone and he wondered if she truly did understand or if she was trying to pretend she did because she didn’t want to disappoint him. He’d caught her at pretending she understood things a couple times already. Confronting her about it had appeared to embarrass her even.

“Then let’s go inside and you can meet them. They’re a perfect example of an affectionate couple.”

They materialized inside the room. Castiel blinked, surprised and annoyed by the scene before them. Jo and Dean were arguing with each other in a heated fashion.

“That isn’t what happened,” Jo said. “You’re exaggerating!”

“You calling me a liar?”

“If the shoe fits!”

“This is loving,” Abigael inquired with a curious lilt to her voice. He couldn’t blame her for being confused.

“They must be having an off day. Even loving couples argue on occasion.” Though he’d never seen Jo and Dean arguing in this fashion. He frowned. Their arguments had always been more in the ‘not really arguments’ category, as though they didn’t take their disagreements seriously.

Dean turned his head. “Cas? What are you doing here?”

“Do you ever knock,” Jo asked with a roll of her eyes.

Castiel gestured at Abigael. “Dean, Jo, this is Abigael, my --”

“Risa?” Dean took a few steps towards them, staring at Abigael. His gaze slid down her and back up.

She stared right back. “Risa is my vessel.”

Jo’s brows rose. “Oh, you know the vessel, do you? Why am I not surprised?”

“It’s not what you think. In the future --”

“I thought I was your future.” She crossed her arms, one foot tapping.

“You are, but Zachariah --”

“That dick?”

“Yeah, that dick. He took me to the future and she was there.”

“Swear you didn’t have sex with her. Swear it.”

“I didn’t.” He shrugged. “My future self did apparently, but I didn’t.”

“Oh, really. Where was I in this future?”

“Hell if I know. He didn’t show you as being there.”

“Because I was dead or because you just didn’t see me there?”

“Did I or did I not just say I didn’t know? Cas, back me up.”

Castiel blinked. “Oh, um…. Jo --”

She turned to face him with a hurt expression on her face. “You’re taking his side? Why? Because you’re his friend? I thought we were friends, too. Maybe Risa here should be on my side then, even the odds.”

“Actually, it’s Abigael,” Abigael attempted to interrupt. “My vessel is --”

“A show of solidarity between women. Women Dean Winchester has screwed!” Jo grabbed a pillow, threw it at Dean, and went into the bathroom, slamming the door. Her sobs were loud and clear.

“You see what I’m dealing with,” Dean demanded, jabbing a finger towards the bathroom door. “It’s like she’s gone premenstrual crazy or something.” He turned and went onto the balcony.

Castiel looked at Abigael and gestured to the bathroom door. “Go in and calm her down.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because you’re female now and women do that.”

“I don’t know how.” Uncertainty flickered in her eyes and she shook her head.

“From what I’ve observed the main thing to do is listen and if she calls Dean any names, just agree with her, and tell her you understand. Don’t attempt to reason with her and don’t add to her anger.”

“Castiel --”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Consider it a crash course in human interaction.”

Abigael nodded and disappeared.

Castiel went onto the balcony. “What exactly is the problem here, Dean?”

“I told you. She’s premenstrual or something. What’s with Risa?”

“She’s no longer Risa. Risa is the vessel. Her name is Abigael and she’s a part of that program Uzziel began.” He drew in a long breath. “I’m a mentor.”

“Gwen said something about that. I assumed it was either you were a mentor or you were mental, one of the two.” Dean leaned on the railing. “I don’t know what’s happening, man. We got married on impulse a couple days ago and it’s been like cats and dogs since. We’re arguing over the stupidest shit, too, but I can’t stop and obviously she can’t either, like puke that just spews out. Bicker, bicker, bicker. It’s been one big, long argument over nothing.”

“You married her?” He wasn’t surprised by that action really, merely that it had come so soon. He’d thought there’d be a few more months before Dean gathered his courage to take that step.

“You got a problem with that?”

“Of course not. I like Jo. She…complements you nicely.” He tried to understand why Dean was upset. All couples did argue on occasion, right? It was normal. Even if they’d never really argued before, it was normal to do so sometimes. Wasn’t it? Castiel considered what Dean had said about Jo being premenstrual and remembered what premenstrual meant. He blinked with a sudden idea. If they’d just gotten married, perhaps they hadn’t had intercourse because she was premenstrual. That would put Dean in a bad mood, especially since he really enjoyed sex. To not have it with his new wife would be upsetting. “So you’re…upset you’ve not had relations because she’s premenstrual?”

“Rela….” He laughed and shook his head. “Oh, you mean sex. No, no, we don’t have a problem with sex any time. We’ve had sex the past few days, Cas.” His grin was wide and pleased. “A lot of sex. Make-up sex. Adventurous sex. Sex just to have sex. Her libido has been super-sized since the vows. Now that’s the thing to say yes to for super-sizing, right?” He whistled. “Adventurous…. Like dominatrix adventurous, if you catch my meaning.” His smile faded and he patted Castiel’s shoulder. “Never mind.”

“I understand what a dominatrix is and does, Dean.” He’d figured that out….finally.

“Good. ‘Cause that’s useful information. No, even arguing we’re all over each other in bed. That’s good though, right?”

“For a loving couple, yes. I’m certain this will pass soon.” He tried to find a neutral topic. “What made you decide to marry now without family and friends with you?”

“You gonna make a big deal out of this? Because I don’t need your permission to get married.” His tone turned belligerent. “I’ll marry that woman in there if I damn well want to and I did, so deal with it. And start calling first. No popping in when Jo’s naked, either. Get your own woman.”

Castiel peered at Dean, giving up on keeping the restrictions Dean wanted in place and taking a tour of his thoughts. “Dean --” How odd. Dean’s emotions and thoughts were all over the place in wild fluctuations. He was out of balance more so than usual. Why? What was different? Now that he’d noticed a definite change, Castiel began to systematically search for the reason for that change.

“Maybe you should have that Risa Abigael chick. I think she’s got a crush on you,” Dean remarked, crossing his arms.

“That’s ridiculous.” Castiel rolled his eyes, pausing in his attempts to figure out what was wrong. “You saw her for less than a minute.”

“But the way she looked at you…. Like you’re Mick Jagger giving her a backstage full-access pass. More than a little hero worship going on there.”

“You saw her for less than a minute,” he repeated.

“I’m right.” He held up a finger. “Mark my words, Cas, that little angel has the hots for you.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

Abigael appeared beside him. She was distressed, eyes wide. “We should go. I think I failed in my task. I’m sorry, Castiel, but I don’t think I’m ready for human interaction.” She fled before he could reply.

“I have to go, Dean.” He needed to follow her, calm her, speak to her, and when he’d done that, he’d return and see if the problem had resolved itself.

“Be safe,” Dean said. “Remember to use protection. She may be an angel, but some of you can be little devils.”

Castiel shook his head and followed Abigael’s trail.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gwen hung up the phone and batted her lashes at Sam. “So, what show do you want to see first after we’ve taken care of whatever is wrong with them?”

He sighed. “Not the one I got tickets for Dean and Jo to see.”

“I’ll see anything, sit in the nosebleed section, you name it, I’ll go.”

“You’re that bored?”

She gave a half shrug. “Not really. Aren’t you intrigued by what’s going on with Dean and Jo, though? Come on, Sam. They’re complaining about each other. I’ve never heard Jo complain about Dean except in ways like, ‘yeah, I hate the way he squeezes the toothpaste tube and that’s why we use different tubes’.”

He nodded. “Dean’s the same way. Actually, I’m very worried about them. It’s just not natural for them to be like this. I’ve been trying to narrow down the things that could have happened and what could be doing it and there’s too many without seeing them.”

“What are we waiting for?” She grinned and slipped on sunglasses. “Let’s hit the road.”

A little less than ten minutes later, they were headed for Las Vegas, leaving Ellen to hold down the fort.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ellen Harvelle braced herself. This was the hour that would make or break that bet she’d made with Bobby. Honestly, she hadn’t considered the time with Sam and Gwen helping to be fair. She needed to do this the same way Bobby did. Alone. Just her and Bobby’s daily life.

She put on a little music, put her hands on her hips, and said, “Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

One hour after Gwen and Sam left:

Ellen answered the door.

“Uh…Ellen?” Rufus blinked. “I heard you were dead.”

“Not quite. Bobby didn’t tell you?”

“No…” His voice was distracted and he peered around her at the hallway. “So, is, uh, Bobby here?”

“He’s on vacation for three weeks.”

“Oh.” He frowned. “You any good at digging?”

She pointed to her shoulder. “Nope. Bum shoulder. Can’t lift, can’t dig.”

“Shame. Know where the keys to the backhoe are?”

Ellen looked past him at the tarp-covered back of his truck and sighed. “I’ll go get them.”

Two hours later:

“No Garth, you have to use iron. Are you really that stupid?” She listened a moment. “No, I’m not coming on to you. How do you get that from anything I’ve said the last six times you’ve called?”

The CDC phone began to ring.

“Never mind. I don’t think I want to know how your mind works. Use iron, I gotta go.”

Half an hour later:

“Melissa, sweetie, you have to use the correct pronunciation of Latin for it to work. Don’t you remember Army of Darkness? Never fudge the pronunciation or word. Now go back in there and repeat everything I tell you and if you don’t say it verbatim, I’ll just let the damn thing eat you.” She cradled the phone between ear and shoulder and found the right page in the reference book. “Yeah, I’ll give you a good eulogy if it does, making sure to mention the fact that you mispronounced the Latin as an object lesson.”

Three hours later:

“Are you making fun of my name? I’ll have you know that ‘Lou’ is short for Louise….” She rolled her eyes and rubbed her aching shoulder.

Another two hours later:

“Oh, and Shawn? You ever call my daughter a ‘tasty piece of ass you’d like to sink your teeth into’ again and you won’t be getting anything for the rest of your miserable life.” She nodded. “Sweetie, I’ll cut it right off.” Ellen smiled. “Glad you understand me. Good luck with that Banshee.”

3:32 a.m.:

The sound of the phone jerked Ellen from an uncomfortable position slumped over at the table. She answered with a yawn, mildly ashamed that she listened to the heavy breathing on the line for over a minute before demanding to know who it was.

“What are you wearing,” was the panted, wheezing reply.

It took Ellen’s sleep fuddled brain a moment to realize that voice was familiar. “Rufus? Why are you giving me an obscene phone call?”

“What are you wearing,” he repeated.

“You’ve about ten seconds to explain yourself or I’ll shoot your ass the next time I see you.”

“Huh? I mean, are you dressed or in your nightie? I’m halfway across the field to the west dragging….” His voice was garbled for several seconds. “Rather not wait while you get dressed.”

“I’m dressed.” She looked down at herself. She’d fallen asleep in yesterdays clothes, hadn’t had a proper meal or shower since Sam and Gwen had left, and was seriously considering unplugging the phones to get some real sleep.

She now understood the bulk packages of NoDoz Bobby had stacked on one dresser upstairs.

“Good. Can you meet me with the backhoe?”

“Bobby should charge you a plot fee.”

“Don’t tell him that!”

She hung up and went to get the keys, casting a glance to the stacks of books open over every flat surface available. She was having a sinking feeling that she was going to lose that bet she’d made with Bobby.

~~~~~~~~~~

Uzziel sat in on a few classes. He’d sat through slang, the dining class, and the hygiene class, yet he still wasn’t sure it was enough. He felt he was woefully undereducated on the matter of humans and in order to run this program better, he needed a full understanding. He needed the sort of interactions that Castiel had.

I have to get my hands dirty, he thought. Really, amazingly dirty.

But where should he go and who should he observe and interact with?

He was contemplating that action when Balthazar approached him.

“I’m deeply hurt that you cancelled my little dance class. Some of those vessels were scrumptious.”

“It wasn’t a dance class.”

Balthazar shrugged. “Have you seen their dancing? There’s not actually much difference.”

“No, I haven’t.” But now he wanted to.

“Ahhh….” He crossed his arms. “Thinking about a tour of duty among the natives are you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Have you decided where to go? Florida? Texas? Colorado? I hear South Dakota is excellent this time of year.”

“What’s in South Dakota?”

“Someone I understand you’ve already interacted with.”

Uzziel had no trouble following Balthazar’s train of thought, though Castiel’s words of warning about doing anything Balthazar suggested stuck in his mind. “You mean the Harvelle woman. Ellen.”

“I do. Now she’s the sort of woman who can show an angel a lot. Did you see how she treated Cas before she died? I think if she’d survived and the Apocalypse gone on….” He shrugged. “I’ll bet dear Cas would have had quite the education before the end.”

“You think I should see her. Speak with her, interact with her.”

“Very much so. And you’ll be getting to know one of Castiel’s friends. Where is the harm in that?” With a smirk, Balthazar sauntered off, no doubt looking for some sort of trouble to get into.

The discreet guard he’d put onto Balthazar’s trail nodded ever so slightly and followed.

Where was the harm indeed? It wasn’t like he was abandoning duty or anything like that. He was simply having a bit of independent study in the matter of humans. Human women, to be precise. Castiel would understand that, right?

“Jael,” he said.

“Uz?” He came forward, clipboard in hand. He was wearing one of the new t-shirts Uzziel had had made that had Castiel’s face on the front and ‘A.M.P.’ across the back. “You need something?”

“I’m going down to earth for a couple days.”

“Want me to find Castiel and tell him?”

“No, don’t bother him. He’s busy mentoring. Handle the convention and if anything needs my attention, I’ll be in South Dakota.”

“Okay, boss.” Jael adjusted the dark framed glasses he didn’t actually need and made a note on the top paper on the clipboard.

Uzziel slipped down to earth, located Ellen Harvelle, and joined her in her automobile. “Hello, Ellen Harvelle.”

The car swerved and she made a noise of surprise, followed by a string of rude epithets. “Son of a bitch!”

“I wasn’t born of a mother or dog.”

“You couldn’t have given me back all of my memories?”

“I put you in a place where you’d be found. At the time, I could do little else.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Like you guys ever tell the truth. Cas is the only decent one among you.”

Reaching out a hand, he touched her shoulder and sent a tendril of healing power through her body, easing that ache that was affecting her mood. “There. You’re healed of your present injuries. Am I forgiven?”

“Do I have to?” She pulled into a parking lot.

“It would please Castiel if we were on pleasant terms. He’d prefer if all of us get along with his human friends.”

Ellen snorted and parked the car. “Fine. What’s your name again?”

“Uzziel. Former general to Raphael, now second-in-command to Castiel.”

“Lucky him.”

“He is lucky. I’m,” he searched for the proper phrase, “quite a catch.”

She gave him a funny look. “Uh-huh. Didn’t think Cas swung that way.”

“Excuse me?”

She leaned her head back against the seat. “Do you even know what ‘quite a catch’ means?”

“It means I have many desirable attributes, which is entirely true. I’m a very desirable angel to have as second-in-command.”

“It means that, true, but usually in a personal, romantic relationship way.”

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, checked her thoughts to make sure she was serious, then drummed his fingers on the armrest. “That wasn’t in the handout.”

“Handout?”

Uzziel launched into a long explanation as they got out of the car and walked towards the store. Ellen’s glances became more and more amused as he spoke and he continued to check her mind to make sure it really was the case.

“Okay, so let me get this straight.” She led him inside the store, wheeling a metal cart in front of her. “You’ve started a program where you all take classes about us in order to understand us and when the classes are over, you’ll be pairing up and coming down here to try out these new-found skills among the unsuspecting human populace.”

“Yes. That’s an accurate summary of the program.”

“God help us,” she murmured in a low voice he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge that he’d heard. Castiel had told him that when they mutter, usually it meant they didn’t want anyone to hear what was said. But if that was the case, then surely thinking it would be the better, wiser option? “The angel Gwen said Castiel had with him is in the program?”

“She is. Abigael was highly recommended, having been in our library for centuries in the human history section. I chose her specifically for Castiel to mentor because…. Well, just between you and me, Joshua said God told him I should and since Joshua is the only one who’s had contact with God…. I did what he said.”

“Does Cas know that?”

“No. He’s not supposed to know.”

“Oh.”

A giggly girl of approximately nineteen years passed them, turning to look at him, her stare bold and clothing almost nonexistent. He smiled. She grinned back and disappeared around the end of the aisle. “Friendly town,” he mentioned.

Ellen laughed. “You looked in a mirror, Uzziel? You’re easy on the eyes.”

“Not as much so as Castiel. He’s a very handsome angel.”

“I can’t comment on his true form, but his vessel is attractive.”

“He’s the face of new heaven, you know, Ellen.” He studied the store, noted the fresh foods to one side and the rows of other items in cans, boxes, and bags. All of the sorts of things people needed to live. This was the experience he needed.

She put a container of strawberries in the basket. “Is he now?”

“He is. I’ve got his face on pamphlets, posters…t-shirts.”

“T-shirts?” Amusement was high in her tone.

“I could give you one, if you like.”

Ellen’s lips twitched. “I think I’d like that.”

“We’re using both vesseled and true form depending on the department. I’ll get you one of the vesseled shirt pictures. Some departments are more willing to accept the true form while others are embracing vessels. It’s amazing. After all these centuries, we’re finally united in what God wanted from us from the creation of humans. Understanding. Love. Eventually, we’ll even have fellowship, standing among you and none of you will realize it.”

“You’re a talkative one, aren’t you? Castiel’s more the silent type.”

“He’s an angel of few words. Admirable. Highly intelligent. For such a large angel, one wouldn’t expect him to be so scholarly. I mean usually the taller and bigger angels are --”

“Wait a minute.” Ellen stopped pushing the cart and turned, holding up a hand. “Tall, big? You’re referring to Castiel?”

“I am. As angels go, he’s built rather like…um…” Uzziel searched for a similar comparison. “The football star to petite human?”

“He’s above average in height and build.”

“Yes.”

Ellen blinked twice. “You don’t say. So when you stand beside him in true form, is it like…me standing beside Sam Winchester?”

“Similar.”

“Ain’t that something.” She turned and pushed the cart to the end of the aisle. “You comin’?”

“May I observe you and interact with you for a few days, Ellen?”

“As long as you stay out of my way, I suppose.”

His path decided, Uzziel smiled again and followed Ellen as she shopped.