Brown Mountain Lights

Angels, Pranks, and Men Who've Really Messed Up This Time

One spring day, about six months after I had first met the boys, I was in the kitchen throwing a casserole together and dancing to the music on my phone. Sam and Dean were fast asleep, recovering from a case they had worked in California. When I turned around to put the casserole in the oven, there was a man in a tan trenchcoat standing in the kitchen, looking at me.

"Where are Sam and Dean Winchester?" he said.

The boys had installed a panic button under the kitchen counter after an unfortunate incident with a few of Crowley's minions. It was hooked up to a wire that rang alarms in their rooms. I stepped slowly backwards until I hit the counter, then ran my fingers under it until I found and pressed the button. "I'm not sure who you mean," I said, trying to stall him until the guys made it to the kitchen.

"Where are Sam and Dean Winchester?" he repeated, taking a step closer to me. Just as I was getting ready to swing a pan at his head and make a run for it, Sam and Dean burst into the kitchen.

Then they stopped dead and stared.

The man in the coat turned around and looked at them, and abruptly Dean burst forward and hugged the man so tightly I was surprised he could breathe. When Dean stepped back, Sam did the same. I stood against the counter, watching the scene in silence and trying to make sense of it.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked. "How did you get rid of the curse Rowena put on you?"

"Another angel noticed my plight, and gathered a band of seraphim together to remove the spell," the man in the coat replied. "I am no danger to you now."

Angels? Seraphim? This must be...

I unglued myself from the counter and asked timidly, "Excuse me, are you Castiel?"

The man turned around and looked at me quizzically, as though he had forgotten I was there. "Yes, I am. Sam, Dean, what is this woman doing in your kitchen?"

Dean looked around Castiel's shoulder and said, "Well, it looks like she's making a chicken casserole. It's surprisingly good, actually, you should -"

Castiel interrupted. "Why is she in the bunker, Dean. Don't be obtuse."

Dean answered, "We needed some help on a case in North Carolina. Found her name in one of Bobby's little black books as an expert, she helped us out, then agreed to come back and research for us full-time."

I laughed internally. Yes, Dean, let's leave out the kidnapping and skinwalker and complete destruction of my identity, shall we?

Castiel still looked dubious, but when Sam took his arm and started to pull him towards the library, talking excitedly about the new digital catalog, he went willingly.

I exhaled and slumped against the counter. "So that's the famous Castiel, huh?" I said, looking up at Dean.

"Yep," he replied. "Don't worry, he'll warm up to you."

Now I was the dubious one, but I nodded and went back to my casserole. After a moment, Dean left the kitchen and headed towards the library.

After dinner, which had included brownies because random angels showing up in my kitchen was upsetting, the boys and Castiel disappeared into the library again. I headed to my room and picked up my copy of the newest Alison Weir book to see if I could distract myself with it. While I had a degree in Native American history, Tudor history was a hobby of mine. I was lost in Weir's description of Edward VI's tragic reign, and starting to doze, when I heard a knock at my door.

After making sure I was wearing enough for modesty, I opened the door to find Dean and Castiel. "Ah, can I help you?" I said.

Dean looked at me soberly. "Cas wants to try something, if you don't mind."