Title: Lost and Found

Chapter: 24

Notes: ‘Happy Heart’ is by Andy Williams.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel found Abigael two states over, sitting on a fallen log by a lake. She was hunched over and still upset. Slowly, he joined her, sitting in a similar bent position and turning his head to look at her. “What happened?”

She closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them and took a long breath. “I made her angry. I was doing what you said, but it didn’t help.”

“You’re not to blame. The current situation between Dean and Jo is not a natural one. Something is driving a wedge between them that under normal circumstances isn’t there.”

She sat up straight. “I didn’t mess up?”

“No.”

A slight relieved smile played at her lips. “I was afraid I’d damaged matters.”

“No. The fault is squarely upon outside influences.”

“Do we fix the situation, then? Can we fix it?”

He stared out at the water. Actually, that was a tough question to answer. His knee-jerk reaction was to definitely fix it because it was causing strife and emotional pain between two people he cared about.

However, upon further consideration, perhaps they should merely observe at present, see how it played out, and if it looked like serious harm would befall Dean, Jo, and others, they’d become involved. Castiel remembered well that talk he and Sam had had awhile back. It had been the same one where they’d discussed him healing them all the time. Sam had taken that discussion further in private.

Sam maintained that while it was good they were friends and they should continue to cultivate that friendship, Cas was too inclined to step in when they should be handling things themselves. Not that they didn’t appreciate his help, because they did. He’d aided them well on many occasions. The problem was, having an angel as a friend had given both Dean and Sam a feeling of invulnerability, a cockiness that could end up endangering them and others. They needed to relearn how to rely on human resources. ‘Even parents allow their children to go through pain,’ Sam had pointed out and Castiel had to agree with that and apply it to the current situation.

As much as he loved Dean and Jo, they needed to try fixing whatever was wrong themselves or through human assistance first. The decision wasn’t one he thought Dean would agree with. He decided not to tell Dean.

“No,” he told Abigael. “We return, watch, and help only if they pose a danger to themselves or others.” Saying it made his chest ache a bit, but he knew it was the right thing to do.

“We watch?” She tucked her hair behind her ears, a curious glint in her eyes.

“Yes.”

“But…you care about them, Castiel.”

“I do. At the same time, we, as angels, need to cultivate the wisdom of when to help and when to let situations play out. Right now, we’ll let it play out.”

Abigael nodded. “Very well.”

They returned to the city and stayed out of sight, observing as matters progressed. Several times, Castiel had to restrain himself from appearing and taking action. All the while, he was aware of Abigael watching both him and Dean and Jo, taking it all in.

~~~~~~~~~~

As Sam drove, he thought about the diary he’d found tucked in the papers of one box -- Gwen’s mother’s diary. It wasn’t a hunter’s diary exactly, more like a general database of dates, weather conditions, locations, and personal notes, such as that she was sick or one of the others was sick. Things like that. He’d been skimming the entries for information and as he’d skimmed, a suspicion about Gwen had begun to grow.

Gwen wasn’t a Campbell and he fully believed that.

Sam had come to that conclusion because during the time Patricia would have been very pregnant with Gwen, he’d found a picture of her looking slim and trim, that picture obligingly dated. Nor had Patricia made any mention of being pregnant like the other two times in the diary. Sam hadn’t shown Gwen the diary or picture yet, wanting to be sure before he talked to her about it. Why upset her if there was a reasonable explanation he’d yet to come across? He simply wasn’t sure what that explanation could be except that she wasn’t a Campbell.

Some of the things about her childhood made definite sense now, like the taunting of others that she was a ‘changeling’. Of course the older kids would have realized she wasn’t Neal and Patricia’s daughter, but if sworn to secrecy for some reason, they’d find a way to tease her. And had. Add to that how Gwen didn’t look a thing like Neal and Patricia. Plus, she’d once told him she wasn’t like them at all.

He glanced at her. She was looking out at the scenery along the highway, singing along to the music. She had a good singing voice, much better than Dean, the song actually sounding like the song.

His money was on the mysterious couple in that picture they’d found being her real parents. Aaron and Mia C.. Who were they? Other hunters? A civilian couple? How had they been connected to the Campbell family and why not tell Gwen about them? What had the Campbells been hiding and why? Was it part of the reason Samuel wanted Gwen? Sam was becoming more and more curious and he knew if he presented it all to Dean, they’d suddenly be hot on the trail of this mystery, tracking down leads and working it like they worked current cases.

Ellen was convinced the answers were there somewhere, but Sam wasn’t so sure. There was a gap in the dates on the files, like someone had taken some of the boxes. Samuel perhaps? He was almost tempted to contact him about them. Almost. He didn’t want to give Samuel any reason to come to Bobby’s house.

“You’re thinking awfully hard,” Gwen commented, turning her head to look at him. Her hair was whipping about in the breeze from the open windows and she looked relaxed. Getting out on the road had perked her right up, though he wondered how perky she’d still be after the twenty hours or so of driving it took to get to Las Vegas. They were driving until he got tired, then stopping and driving again, which, with meal breaks, should put them there sometime mid-morning tomorrow.

He turned down the music. “Got a lot we’ve been looking at. Trying to get it all figured out.”

She leaned her head back. “Relax, Sam. Let it go for a day or two. Don’t think about it and maybe something will click.”

“That work for you?”

“On occasion. Usually waking me from a sound sleep at three a.m..”

He laughed. “Yeah, me too.”

After a moment she asked, “What do you think is wrong with Dean and Jo?”

“Hexed object maybe? Got on the wrong side of a witch?” In all honesty, he had so many ideas in his mind about that he couldn’t latch on to just one.

“You have witches on the brain.”

“Hazard of studying those files. Did you know they traced a family from England 1698 all the way over here to 1923?”

“Then they lost them?”

“Doesn’t say. Just no more entries. Maybe they lost them, maybe they killed them.”

“Huh.” She sighed. “Whatever’s wrong, we’ll figure it out,” she said in a cheerful tone.

Sam studied her out of the corner of his eye. “You’re awfully happy,” he remarked.

Gwen grinned. “I popped a pain pill. This is a pain free zone at present.”

“That explains your mood.”

“Don’t worry, Sam.” Leaning over, she patted his leg. “I’m timing them so that by the time I need to be a bitch again, they’ll have worn off.”

He turned the radio back up. “Well then, enjoy your pain free moment.”

“I am.” Sitting back up, she closed her eyes and Sam let her doze.

~~~~~~~~~~

There was a crow on the balcony railing.

Dean stared at it. It stared back. It hadn’t blinked once. Did birds blink though? Creepy. If he didn’t think anyone would report it, he’d shoot the damn annoying thing. It had been out there for the past hour just watching them roll around on the bed together -- and it had still been there after his shower. He slouched down in the chair and crossed his arms, eyes narrowing.

He could hear Jo humming as she got out of the shower. The bathroom door opened the rest of the way, a cloud of fragrant steam slipping out into the room. Dean tapped a foot. Maybe he should shoot it anyway.

The crow cocked it’s head.

He’d swear it could read his mind even.

“I’m goin’ friggin’ nuts,” he announced.

“This is news?”

In the reflection on the glass, Dean watched Jo drop her towel and begin to get dressed.

The bird hopped along the railing and Dean focused on it. Was it his imagination or had the bird just moved to where it could see Jo getting dressed? It had, hadn’t it? The crow was ogling his naked wife!

With a sudden surge of paranoia, Dean got up and closed the curtains. Outside, the crow squawked, sounding for all the world like it was cussing him out.

“What’d you do that for?” Jo drew a t-shirt on. The fabric hugged her curves like a second skin.

“Sun’s coming around. It’ll get hot in here if we leave it open.” That even sounded halfway reasonable.

“Uh-huh.” Stepping to the wall, she turned the air on high. “Problem solved. Open the curtains. It’s not like anyone can see in here, Dean. We’re near the top of the building. Open them.”

And see that bird again? No. “Let’s leave them closed. Then when we come back, it’ll be really cold in here and we can pretend it’s the Arctic winter and we have to bed down naked together to keep warm. You can be my Eskimo woman and I’ll be a lost American you found wandering in the cold.”

Jo stared at him for several seconds. “You do like your fantasies, don’t you?”

“Don’t you?”

“At least this one doesn’t require me to dress up in a costume,” she muttered.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jo had the strongest feeling that the crow they kept seeing was the same one and that it was following them. She looked out the restaurant window at it, attempting to ascertain if it was the same one and finally giving up. It looked like a crow, a plain, old, squawking, annoying crow.

It had been on their balcony all morning, sat outside when they shopped, and remained near when they went to the pool. Now it was outside the restaurant while they had a late lunch. Suspicious, but it still didn’t look like something odd. Maybe Dean’s paranoia was wearing off on her. It couldn’t be the same crow, right? There were tons of birds around.

As they stepped into the casino, Jo noticed that blond man from the elevator and grabbed Dean’s arm, pointing. “There! There he is! Do you see him?”

“See who?”

“The man! The man from the elevator!”

“What man?”

“From the elevator the other day!”

“What elevator?”

“The one in our hotel.” She looked around, craning her neck, but he was suddenly gone. “Where’d he go? He was just there!” Jo frowned. How could he be there and then not?

“Oh good. Now you’re seeing things that aren’t there. How many fingers am I holding up?”

She glanced at him. He wasn’t holding any up. “None.”

He reached for her, fingers sliding through her hair along her scalp. “You could have told me you hit your head when we fell off the bed last night trying out that new…move.”

Ducking, she tried to evade his hand and still search the casino for the man. “I didn’t hit my head last night.”

“Would you tell me if you had?”

“No -- ouch!” His fingers caught in her hair, a sharp burst of pain making her wince. “It’s all attached, you know!”

“See how you are? Stand still, I’m checking for a goose egg.”

“I don’t have a goose egg because I didn’t hit my head. Cut it out!”

“Doesn’t feel like you have a goose egg.”

“You think?”

Having established that she didn’t have a goose egg, they headed for the slot machines. Jo had lost interest in gambling the day before, when it was apparent they were on a winning streak. It simply wasn’t a challenge if they were always going to win.

Somehow, she wasn’t surprised when they won yet again.

~~~~~~~~~~

They had an hour to make their way to the rendezvous with Sam and Gwen. Dean was allowing extra time for traffic and any mishaps that could possibly happen. He stalked to the elevator, not looking to see if Jo was following him. He stabbed a finger at the down button several times, continuing to hit it even after it lit up.

“You know it makes no difference if you hit it over and over, right? It’ll still get here in the same amount of time.”

“I’ll remind you of that when you hit the lobby button over and over.”

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open. They stepped into the elevator to go downstairs. No one got on with them and there was no one to get off. He noticed Jo carefully pressed the lobby button only once, giving him a dirty look as she did so.

Soft strains of music played.

“…there can be no other for their love. It’s my happy heart you hear….”

Dean gritted his teeth and glared up at the speaker. “Are you as sick of this song as I am?” Everywhere they went, they kept hearing this stupid song. Over and over. Andy Williams. ‘Happy Heart’. He was going to start howling if he heard it one more time. They couldn’t get away from it. Some guy had even sung it at karaoke. Too bad Jo hadn’t gone before that guy since she’d managed to break the microphone when she’d gone to sing.

“…all because you’re near me my love….”

“I kind of used to like this song once,” Jo replied, “but now it’s getting annoying. You’d think there’d be more variety of background music in Vegas.” She flicked her glance to him. “I can’t believe you’re actually wearing that shirt in public, Dean. It needs to meet a trash can and run off happily ever after with it.”

“Hmmph. Let’s talk about your little ensemble. Couldn’t find a shirt to fit you?

“It’s practically up to my neck.”

“If by neck you mean nipples. You’re nearly topless.”

“It covers me.”

“Barely.”

They snorted in unison and stepped out into the lobby. Dean led the way into the parking garage, looking forward to driving for awhile and getting out of the city. He wondered what Sam and Gwen wanted. The two were coming to Vegas and wanted to meet them for some reason.

Nearly twenty-five minutes later, Jo cleared her throat. “What, you can’t remember where you parked?”

“I can remember where I parked.” He couldn’t help the irritation that colored his voice.

Obviously he didn’t remember however. The Impala wasn’t where Dean remembered parking her. She was in this parking garage, he knew it, but they’d walked through all the levels without finding her.

“I think you parked in the deck across the street.”

“I didn’t park across the street. My baby is lost.” He shook his head. “No, she’s been stolen. I hope she gives whoever stole her hell. It’ll be a vacation compared to when I catch up with them.”

“Let’s look across the street.”

“No. I parked here.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “Okay, you parked here, but let’s go --”

“No. I’m not going across the street. She’s here.” He knew he was being stubborn, but damn it, he remembered parking in this garage!

“You just said she was stolen.”

He didn’t answer.

“Dean, she’s either here, and she’s not because we’ve been all over this garage twice now, or she’s been stolen, or maybe, possibly, you got JK’s Parking confused with KJ’s Parking across the street.”

He stopped walking. “If you’re so sure you’re right, you go look, sweetheart.”

“Fine, I will.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Wonderful.”

“I’m going.”

“Happy hunting.”

He was back on the top floor when his phone buzzed. It was Jo. She’d sent him a picture of the Impala in the parking garage he knew he hadn’t parked in. What the hell was going on?

He and Jo were arguing non-stop, they fell off the bed together, accidentally injured each other in minor ways…. They’d become clumsy. Then there were the misplaced items, some of which had caused a panic, like Jo’s missing birth control pills and the misplaced condoms. Now the Impala wasn’t parked where he’d left her. Strangely enough, however, they were still golden in the casinos, winning wherever they went.

Dean joined her.

Jo leaned against the passenger door. “Well?” She crossed her arms, the movement pressing her breasts up and deepening her cleavage. Really, that shirt was indecent. It was too tight. Some other guy might look at her. She needed to cover up. Sweatshirt, maybe, or parka.

“Well, what?”

“You going to unlock her so we can go meet Sam and Gwen?”

“Of course.” He dug in his pockets and came up with coins, a couple tootsie rolls, the room card, a condom he didn’t remember putting there, and no keys.

“Let me guess. You left them in the room.”

“Maybe.” Dean would swear he’d put the keys in his pocket. “You stay here.”

“And make sure Christine doesn’t move herself again?”

“Funny. I’ll be back.”

He found the keys on the dresser right beside his wallet.

“I’m losin’ my freakin’ mind,” he muttered, putting the wallet in his pocket and grabbing the keys. That had become his almost hourly refrain the past day.

~~~~~~~~~~

While Ellen had misgivings about Uzziel hanging around, she thought she should be gracious about it. After all, he’d helped Castiel win the war and was apparently helping put heaven back together. Or something to that effect.

She smiled at their server as she brought the pizza and dished up a slice for both of them.

Uzziel stared at the pizza as though he wasn’t sure it was fit to eat.

Ellen picked up her own slice and took a hearty bite. By the time she’d swallowed, he’d carefully picked up his own slice and taken a small, nibbling bite. “How much experience do you have with humans,” she asked, getting the feeling as the day went on that he was big on talk and low on practical experience. He had that ‘stranger in an extremely strange land’ vibe going on and didn’t appear to quite ‘get’ what he’d learned. If all the remaining angels were like that, they were in for quite the culture shock when they came to earth.

He swallowed. “What spice am I tasting?”

“Garlic.” She waited, taking another bite. “There’s an entire bulb of it on the pizza.”

“Ahh. Interesting. Experience? Well, to be honest, not much. See, it wasn’t the thing to socialize with the hairless apes…uh…humans. And then when I did get a vessel, it was merely to move between heaven and earth with some ease on the tasks first Michael, then Raphael asked of me. Since hooking up with Castiel…”

Ellen smothered a snicker. With him around, it was too easy for her mind to stay in the gutter.

“…I’ve spent much of my time in heaven, organizing the angels, going through the information we gathered. My personal experience has been limited.” He picked at the pizza, peeling it apart the same way Jo had as a child, separating the ingredients into neat piles on his plate and tasting them one pile at a time. Peppers, olives, onions, cheese, meat…. “I’m willing to learn, Ellen. Knowing God is still involved in some way makes me want to embark upon that path He approves of and that is this one. He obviously approves of Castiel, so I wish to aid Castiel. To do that, I need understanding I lack.” Uzziel picked up a slice of pepperoni and ate it, making a disgusted face as he chewed. “My vessel dislikes pepperoni and I do as well.”

“Don’t eat it. You picked everything all off anyway.”

He stared at her with that same confused expression Castiel used on occasion. “How was I to experience the individual flavors of the ingredients if I didn’t? To take this dish as a whole and appreciate it, I need to know what the individual flavors are and taste how they blend together.”

She reached for another slice. “You’re a chef in the making.”

“Do you believe so?”

He sounded pleased by that and she sprinkled parmesan on the slice on her plate. “Sure. Why not? You can have your own tv show. Angel Chef.” It was meant as a joke, but he perked up.

“Ellen, that’s brilliant! I could get involved in the AMP classes by teaching a cooking class. Just the basics to begin with. A sister course to the dining class.”

She blinked and he was gone. “Oh, well…. Glad to be of assis --” He was back, smiling wide.

“I’ve got Jael working up a syllabus now. Thank you, Ellen.”

“Who’s Jael?”

“My assistant. Very organized. Castiel has one too, though he tends to give him the slip often. Do I have that phrase right? Give him the slip? Means to slip away unnoticed?” At her nod, he continued. “I couldn’t get a thing done without Jael. He thinks your idea is brilliant, too.” Uzziel slapped one hand on the table. “I knew coming here to you was the right thing to do.”

In Ellen’s opinion, that remained to be seen.

She wanted to stay away from Bobby’s house as long as possible. He’d mentioned that he sometimes stayed in the library to do research, so she’d claim she’d done that if asked. The only one who might ask at present was Garth and he’d decided she was coming on to him every time he called. Lord, she hoped he didn’t think that about Bobby! Garth wasn’t exactly the brightest bulb around.

What sort of experiences could she give Uzziel that wouldn’t be too stressful for her? A movie maybe?

They went to see a movie and it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her that Uzziel’s talking through it got them kicked out, as she vaguely remembered Dean telling her about Castiel getting him kicked out of a movie theater once. Uzziel was pleased by the experience. Ellen wasn’t, as she’d really wanted to see this movie and see if Hollywood had actually gotten a demon possession right for once. Now she’d have to pay good money to see it again. Maybe she could get Dean to go with her. He was always nice to see a movie with, since he couldn’t seem to make up his mind at concessions and bought a little of whatever caught his eye.

They were almost back to the car when Uzziel grabbed her, turned her, and kissed her.

A part of Ellen’s mind thought he wasn’t too bad at it, either. His kiss could make a girl melt into a puddle of want and need. Still, he shouldn’t kiss her. In her opinion, angels shouldn’t do that. So when he leaned back, she let fly with a stinging slap that only served to hurt her hand and didn’t even turn his cheek the slightest.

Uzziel took her hand between his, the pain from the slap fading. “You struck me.” His brow furrowed in a frown that was curious and confused.

“You kissed me.”

“I’ve seen others kissing these past hours and you mentioned earlier that I was attractive. Do the two not go together? I was certain I had that part correct.” He released her hand. “My apologies, Ellen. I’m discovering I’ve had quite a few misconceptions on human behavior.”

“I don’t kiss men or angels I’ve just met.”

“Oh. So…later then?”

“Get in the car, Uzziel.”

As the hours passed, letting him hang around didn’t appear to be such a good idea after all. He was curious about everything, which unfortunately meant sex as well. His questions were interspersed between Garth’s calls (he seemed to think she was talking dirty to him now), Melissa’s panic attack because she’d mispronounced another word in Latin (while practicing it in her safe motel room), and several other hunters demanding to know when Bobby was due back because they refused to talk to a ‘chick’. She’d also ignored Uzziel’s suggestion that she strip naked so he could give himself a hands-on female anatomy lesson.

Ellen popped open a beer and suddenly had a clear picture in her mind of herself and Uzziel in a rather compromising position. She rubbed her temples. Between Bobby’s routine and Uzziel, she had a nice tension headache that wouldn’t quit. “Get out of my head and don’t even think about it, Uzziel, or I’ll kill you with that weapon of yours.”

“It’s the only way to kill me,” he pointed out.

“I’ll still do it.”

He nodded. “Noted.”

“Don’t annoy me.”

“I believe I’m too late on that.”

“Just… be quiet and let me drink my beer.” She closed her eyes. The silence was wonderful.

“Ellen?”

“What?” She opened her eyes to find him standing in front of her, a stack of cloth in his arms.

“Where should I put the t-shirts? I brought enough for everyone to have one.”

Ellen started laughing and found it very difficult to stop.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dean and Jo were waiting when Sam and Gwen reached the appointed meeting place. They leaned side by side against the Impala’s hood, both with arms crossed and annoyed expressions, launching into an airing of grievances before Sam and Gwen were even fully out of the car.

“He had his nose so far in her cleavage, I’m surprised he could even breathe.”

Dean snorted. “Maybe you were to busy ogling the David Blaine wannabe on the sidewalk to notice I actually said hello and gave my order.”

Jo shook her head. “That’s not what happened. I was trying to figure out how he did that trick.”

“It’s all mirrors,” Dean snarled, “and you weren’t trying to figure out how he did it, you were ogling his ass.”

“Hah! And then after lunch, he took me into an adult store and do you know what he did? He filled a shopping cart. Filled.” Jo gestured with a hand high above her head. “It was like overflowing.”

“You’re exaggerating. I bought one item.” He pointed a finger at Sam and Gwen and waved it back and forth. “You guys want to see what I bought?”

Sam exchanged a glance with Gwen and they both answered with a firm ‘no’.

“After that, she dragged me into this frilly girly store --”

“They’re called boutiques, Dean.” Jo shifted position against the car.

“Same thing. Anyway, she tried on clothes for fifteen hours.”

Jo scoffed. “It was not fifteen hours. Who’s exaggerating now? It was only like five minutes and I had to buy a shirt to replace the one you ripped off me last night.”

There was silence, Dean not replying to that and Sam tentatively asked, “You ripped her shirt off?”

“Yeah, that I did do, but, uh…tit for tat, right?” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

“I…don’t…want to know,” Gwen said.

“Then we went swimming.” Jo took up the tale. “Every time I tried to go in the water, he threw a towel around me and carried me back to our chairs.”

“Her bikini was three tiny triangles and a lot of strings. Guys were looking. It could have come off completely if it had gotten wet and then she would have started a riot.”

She rolled her eyes. “It covers more than my underwear and everyone here has seen my laundry.”

“Yeah, well you wear tiny underwear.”

“Okay, honey, shall we discuss the Speedo you were wearing?”

“Swim trunks,” Dean insisted. “Plain, old regulation swim trunks.”

“If by plain you mean painted on. You were getting stares too.”

“And if all of that wasn’t enough, do you know what she did, Sam? She left lipstick on my baby’s seat. Lipstick.” Fishing a tube out of his pocket, he opened it to show the bright red shade. “Look at that.”

“Jo never wears red like that,” Gwen said, her body brushing Sam’s as she tied to keep her balance without putting pressure on her foot.

“What I said!” Jo flipped her hair over her shoulder. “It’s whore red! Maybe the floozy who left this,” she leaned in the car and back out, holding a lacy bright blue bra in one hand, dangling it like it was a dead mouse, “left behind her skank lipstick, too!”

“I’ve never seen that in my life,” Dean protested.

“Well,” she tossed the bra at him, “it’s not mine. My girls,” she raised the hem of her shirt and flashed all three of them a view of her breasts in a lacy pink bra, “aren’t that honkin’ big.”

“Jo, geez!” Sam quickly averted his gaze. “Put your shirt down!”

“Making a point,” she said in a prim tone, lowering the hem back in place.

“Two of them,” Gwen commented, laughing.

“When have I had time to even think about other women?” It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’ve been dealing with your premenstrual ass the past few days!”

“Jerk!”

“Oh, come on, Jo! You’ve been a bitch from the day we won that money. I’m wishing we’d never won it at all.”

“Like you’ve been something other than an insensitive ass? Socks in the sink. In the sink, Dean? Why the sink? Isn’t the floor good enough for dirty socks?”

“Hah! I’ve been perfectly normal. You’re the one who morphed into unsexy in less than a day after getting the ring on your finger.”

“I wouldn’t marry you, Dean Winchester, if you were the last man alive!” Jo stepped close to Dean, hands on her hips and head back to look up at him.

Dean’s scowl deepened and he pointed a finger at her chest. “Newsflash, cupcake,” he spat out. “We already are married!”

Married? Huh. So Dean had actually taken action on that front. Sam decided he’d process that later and instead focused on the matter at hand. He leaned against the car hood.

“And who’s fault is that?” Jo’s brows rose.

“Yours.”

“Mine?” Incredulity colored the word.

“Yes, yours. I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

“How is it my fault, Mr. two-shots-of-this-won’t-kill-you? You’re the one who asked me and had it all planned out.”

“You used your feminine wiles to take advantage of my semi-drunken --”

“You mean horny.”

“-- state. That , too!” He blinked. “Shakin’ and shimmying.” He turned to Sam. “You should have seen her, Sam. I dare you to say no when she’s giving you a lap dance.”

“I never!” Jo’s screech held anger and indignity.

“Never my ass! You could be a professional!”

Sam cleared his throat. There was something very familiar about the way they were arguing that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Okay, we’ve covered some of what apparently happened, but was any of it especially…I don’t know…especially weird?”

“You mean aside from her suddenly deciding to be a nagging bitch from hell?”

“Or him becoming the most insensitive, inconsiderate bastard the world has ever seen?”

“Oh, come on.” Gwen shifted position. “You’re both exaggerating.”

Exaggerating…. A suspicion niggled at the back of Sam’s mind. It couldn’t be. They’d never met a real one. He’d even thought they didn’t really exist….

His suspicion grew as the argument continued until, with alarm, Sam realized just what was going on.

~~~~~~~~~~

This here was by far the most entertaining part of their trip. They may be irrational, but Dean and Jo’s bickering was amusing. Gwen almost wished she had popcorn and a soda.

She found it telling how neither, despite their bickering, expressed regret about getting married. It was interesting to her that Dean had had it planned, too. Married. Huh. She wondered what changes were in store for all of them when they got back to Bobby’s and Dean and Jo had time to think about things.

“I’ve learned my lesson about us,” Dean said. “This whole marriage thing isn’t going to be easy.”

“Oh, I know! You’re a bear to live with.”

“You’re not perfect either.”

“I’m a peach compared to you.”

“Hah!”

“Lesson?” Gwen glanced askance at Sam. The word ‘lesson’ had been bandied back and forth the past few minutes.

He glanced back. “They’ve both said that.”

The crow above on the power lines cawed over and over. It almost sounded like it was laughing.

Jo transferred her irritated glare up at it. “I’m going to shoot that damn bird.”

“Not if I beat you to it,” Dean replied, going to the trunk and opening it.

“Um, Sam?” The crow was far bigger than it should be for a normal bird. Gwen uncrossed her arms. Something about it and the situation struck a chord in her mind. She knew the information was there, but she couldn’t force it. She had to let it rise to the surface by itself. “Their arguing…. It’s like --”

“An old married couple?”

“Yeah. And that crow…. It’s like it’s laughing up there. Dean and Jo both did say a crow has been hanging around wherever they go.”

“Lessons learned. Lessons….” Sam repeated it over and over.

They stared at each other, Gwen furiously thinking, attempting to reason it out fast.

Jo and Dean stepped from behind the trunk, both holding guns and taking aim at the bird.

“Ladies first.”

Jo smiled, the first genuine smile since Sam and Gwen had arrived. “Oh honey, that’s so sweet and romantic. You can be considerate.”

“I aim to please.” He winked at her. “Now aim and please shoot that bird.”

What being was associated with crows? She knew it, she did. In fact, she’d run across it not too long ago…. No, not it. Him. Gwen saw comprehension on Sam’s face as she herself put the clues together. “Wait!”

Sam stood. “Jo, don’t!”

It was too late. She fired and the bird dropped to the ground. The silence after it felt charged, expectant.

“What’s wrong with you two,” Dean asked, lowering his gun. “It’s a bird. An annoying bird, but a bird.”

“Don’t you see it?” Sam took a step towards the crow. “Think about everything that’s happened to you this week. Look at the symptoms.”

Jo stared at Sam like he was nuts. “Symptoms?”

Gwen turned her attention back to the crow, only it wasn’t a crow any longer. It was a man, with dark blond hair and a neatly clipped beard along his jaw. “You!” She pushed herself to stand, wavering for balance on one foot.

He clapped his hands. “Well done, Sam.” His gaze found Gwen, a slight smile tugging his lips. “Hello, Gwen. Looking positively gorgeous as always, darling.”

Shock played on Dean and Sam’s faces, while Jo pointed. “That’s the man from the elevator,” she yelled.

“Gabriel?” Dean shook his head. His tone was hesitant, even hopeful.

The man spread his arms. “Alas, no, good hunter.”

Gwen cleared her throat. “Guys, that’s the Alpha Trickster. He’s been playing you for days.”

“Alpha Trickster,” Dean and Sam replied in unison, gaping at the being before them.

So unassuming, so average, so…deadly.

The Trickster grinned. “One and the same. Welcome to Vegas, ya’all.”