This is AU. The end of Season 5 needed more horseman action, more friendship and comfort between our boys and their angel, more human!Cas and hey, who couldn't do with a little more angelwhump? (In my humble opinion) Ah for the day when I have my own successful TV series and can run amok. For now, I just borrow Supernatural's toys, and make no money doing it.

Warnings: No need. Do characters on Supernatural ever really stay dead do they? The next chapter should begin to clear things up a bit; this is just a taste of things to come.

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Vacant blue eyes stare sightlessly up at the darkening sky. The light breeze that tousles the dark hair, and tugs mournfully at the tan coat wrapped around the body go unfelt. No sound disturbs the quiet of the cemetery save for the rhythm of a shovel breaking the earth, digging a grave. The man doing the digging never pauses, never tires; does not spare the body lying beside its intended grave a single sideways glance.

A few feet away, perched on a nearby monument, a young woman with dark hair, and even darker eyes, that have swallowed pupil, iris and all in their abyss, sits watching these proceedings. A small smile curves her sensual lips. Between her fingers, the demon girl twirls a delicate gold chain with a tarnished ring on it. The grave digger is an old man, one that looks far too elderly and well dressed to be performing the hot dirty work of digging a grave on a warm summer's day, but he does so tirelessly, and with single-minded purpose as the woman with the unholy eyes looks on.

When he's dug to a satisfying depth, he tosses aside the shovel and reaches for the body beside him, hauling it over to the yawning mouth of the grave.

"Wait."

He stops instantly at the command.

The demon walks over, taking her time, savouring the moment.

"Give us some privacy would you?"

The old man steps blankly aside, and she pockets the ring, and kneels beside the body.

"Poor Clarence," she murmurs, eyes glittering with pleasure, "And here I was," her hands splay across the chest of the man in the trench coat, nails scraping along seductively, "All ready to corrupt you. Oh and wouldn't that have been fun..." She gives a mock pout and leans down closer to the lifeless blue gaze, "But you just had to go and get yourself killed before the fun could even begin hmm?" Her fingers slide down to the hem of his white shirt and tug the edge, and quest lower past the waist of the dark pants, to reveal a sigil carved above his right hip, "Well, maybe not all the fun," she purrs, fingers tracing the wound, "That's right angel boy... you're locked up nice and tight in here. No going to heaven or even destruction and oblivion for that pretty little soul of yours. No, you'll stay right here, tied to this yummy packaging you picked out." She traces the line of his jaw with a single finger and licks her lips, "You would make a nice chew toy wouldn't you?" she chuckles, "But as much as I'd like to keep you above ground and have some play time...hm...desecrating an angel...sounds fun doesn't it? Rules are rules. You know these rituals, very particular things and all that. So into the box you go."

She rises and in one fluid movement, kicks the body so that it rolls gracelessly to thud in the bottom of the freshly dug grave, and the wooden coffin inside. She stands up, brushing the dirt off of her jeans, sighing irritably at the stains. The old man stands stalk still a few feet away, and she spares him an impatient glare.

'Well? What are you waiting for? Cover it up."

The lid of the coffin clunks shut, and shovelfuls of dirt rain down on it, covering the body of the former angel of The Lord.

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Thanks for reading. Stay tuned: more to come! Reviews feed the muse :)

~Amazon