Dean was sitting in a bar watching a pretty waitress hustle by. He smiled briefly at her as Crowley appeared. "So... is that boudoir smile for me?"
Dean, startled, drew the demon knife from his jacket as Crowley said again, "At least buy me a drink first."
"I said the next time I see you-"
"Dead. Yes, rings a bell, but let's not dwell on the past, shall we? This bar is a bust. That waitress is trouble with a capital VD, and your prey, Gadreel, has left the building. So, it's time to move on to more pressing matters, like destroying Abaddon."
"Yeah, good luck with that. The Knights of Hell aren't exactly the dying kind."
"But there is something that can kill a knight. The weapons the archangels used to execute them -- the First Blade."
"Never heard of it. Can I kill you now?"
"I've been chasing that blade for decades. The closest I got to it was when one of my droogs -- Smitty -- got wind of a protégé demon of Abaddon's who's claimed knowledge of the blade. Sadly, before Smitty could nab the guy, a hunter by the name of John Winchester nabbed the protégé. I'm here to see if there's anything in the John Winchester memorial library that might lead us to the First Blade -- to killing Abaddon."
"You want to hunt? With me?"
"I do love a good buddy comedy."
Dean rolled his eyes and reluctantly pulled out John's journal from his jacket and laid it on the table. He rummaged through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "Oh, yeah. Here it is. Yeah, he picked up a protégé who had bones with Abaddon, but that's about all it says in here."
"What do those numbers in the margins mean?"
"None of your business."
"You're gonna play hard to get? We have time for a montage?"
"It's a code -- on of my dad's storage lockers. He may have put something about the case there."
"And what does the "T" next to the numbers mean?"
"Not a clue."
"Fine. Let's go find a dead man's cave, then, shall we?"
"And how do we know this isn't a trap?"
"You... don't. That's what makes it fun."
Crowley shot Dean a wily grin and headed out the door. Dean slowly followed. Neither of them saw the man sitting next to them, with black eyes. He followed them out the door.
BUNKER
Castiel was sitting down and she went to take a bite of a PB&J sandwich. The door opened above her.
"Mm," Castiel hummed, not enjoying the sandwich.
Sam walked downstairs and said, "Hey."
"Tastes like... molecules."
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
"When I was human, you know, I had to eat constantly. It was kind of annoying."
"Yeah, a lot of human things are pretty annoying."
"But... I enjoyed the taste of food -- particularly peanut butter with grape jelly, not jam. Jam I found unsettling."
Sam sat on the table on either side of Castiel as he asked, "So, what? Now you can't taste PB&J?"
"No, I-I taste every molecule."
"Not the sum of its parts, huh?"
"It's overwhelming. It's disgusting." She looked longingly at the sandwich. "I miss you, PB&J."
YOU ARE READING
Cowboys and Angels
Mystery / ThrillerThe angels have fallen and the sacrifices threaten Sam's life. And one makes a decision that can only end poorly. Castiel, meanwhile, is trying to maintain a human life, but it's harder than she realizes. And perhaps, even through the chaos, two c...