Friday Night With the Angels

Rating: PG-13/T

Genre: Humor/General

Summary: Crack-ish. Implies an AU from Frontierland. Dean wasn't certain he could handle any more angels on his shoulder.

Author's Note: This was actually the first story I ever wrote Rachel into (I started it and then, with my ever-reliable attention-span, forgot about it). And I happened to be watching Looney Tunes when I started.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. It belongs to Eric Kripke.


After meeting a relatively wide array of angels- Uriel, Zachariah, Lucifer, Michael, Virgil, Gabriel, Balthazar, and Anna- Dean was fairly certain that Castiel was semi-unique in his naïveté involving human life in the modern human world.

Until he met Rachel.

Not to be mistaken: Rachel and Castiel were both competent, clever, stalwart soldiers who could hold their own just fine when it came to their missions and war. It was just the nuances of modern human society that seemed to throw them for a loop.

Maybe it was a trait unique to the nice, non-violent, sane angels who didn't think that humans were "mud-monkeys".

After their first encounter, Dean and Rachel had had much in common with a pair of angry cats battling over territory ("territory" here translating to "Castiel"). They hissed, they spit, on occasion the claws came out and, like the females of most species, Rachel put him in his place every single time. Castiel, Sam and Bobby had already learned to butt out when things got ugly.

There was a suspected witch in the area, and Castiel had offered his and Rachel's aid. The plan started with a little gathering at Sam and Dean's current motel room in Michigan that had been Castiel's idea, ever so tentatively backed by Sam. They both agreed that it might be a good opportunity for Dean and Rachel to get more used to one another.

"Be nice," Sam warned after glancing at the clock and seeing that it was nearly seven PM, about the time the angels were due.

"I'll play nice if she does." Dean grunted back.

"Rachel is always nice until you open your mouth." Sam argued. And this was true: In their first encounter, Rachel had been absolutely polite to them until Dean had started running off his mouth and calling her "Miss Moneypenny". If Dean could just hold his temper and manage a few sentences without an insult, they'd be fine.

Sam was not optimistic.

As the hour hand on the clock slipped onto seven, a gust of wind through the otherwise still motel room signaled Castiel and Rachel's arrival.

Sam smiled. "Hey guys. How are you?"

"I am well." Castiel responded.

"I am also well."

Sam took a moment to stop and observe this scene. Castiel's eyes were flickering compulsively towards Rachel, who had possibly the biggest and sweetest and fakest smile on that Sam had ever seen, and Jess had been a pro at faking smiles when she was really, really pissed off at someone.

Judging from Castiel's somewhat uncomfortable demeanor and Rachel's obvious attempt to not look unpleasant or irritated, Sam was under the sudden impression that Castiel had given Rachel a speech not unlike the one he had given Dean not so long ago about minding his temper and not making trouble where there wasn't any.

And then, as if on cue, Dean spoke up.

"Hey Cas, Miss Moneypenny. How's kicks?" Sam felt his jaw clench convulsively and his eyes slip shut. Right before his vision went dark, he saw Castiel flinch ever so slightly and Rachel twitch, her smile twisting momentarily into a grimace. Sam didn't know whether the angels being ignorant of the 'Miss Moneypenny' reference made this situation better or worse.

"We are well, Dean," Castiel answered when it was apparent that he didn't trust Rachel to. "And you?"

"I'm good."

"I was just about to make a food run," Sam said. "I'll be right back."

"I'll join you, Sam."

Sam, Dean and Rachel all turned as one to stare at Castiel.

Sam's was an expression of OMGCASWTFAREYOUDOINGMAN?


Rachel's was a mix of TRAITOR and OHGODPLZDON'TLEAVE.

"Uh… You sure, Cas? I won't be that long. Won't be much of a drive." Sam caught Castiel's eye and then flicked his gaze in both Dean and Rachel's direction before shaking his head sharply. Castiel responded with a Look that clearly conveyed They're not going to make any progress if we hover over them, let's see if they can handle being alone together for five minutes.

Sam. Was not. Optimistic.

"Will you two be all right?" Sam asked finally, defeated under Castiel's Stern Gaze.

"We'll be fine, mommy." Dean snorted. Rachel gave a twitch but was otherwise unreadable, at least to Sam.

"I'm sure we'll be fine." She assured him. Her smile was still a little too wide to be sincere.

Sam. Was. Not. Optimistic.


The first five minutes were uneventful.

And you'd better believe that Rachel and Dean counted every second.

Rachel was seated at the end of Sam's bed (she'd been on Dean's before realizing that it was his and moving hastily) watching TV. She gave Dean the impression that she had never seen TV before, at least not at length. At least, he thought, she's watching the Looney Tunes rather than a porno.

That thankfulness was short-lived.

"Vultures are scavengers," Rachel noted critically as she watched, eyes narrowed. "They don't hunt live animals. And mother vultures would never force their hatchlings out of the nest before they were ready. Never mind the fact that animals can't talk."

"Oh my-" Dean stopped right before he could say 'God'. However similar to Castiel she was right then, Dean had a strong feeling that Rachel might be the kind to slap him upside the head for uttering blasphemy. A slap from an angry woman was bad enough, but a slap from an angry angel woman would probably land him in the hospital, and he was priding himself on not needing professional medical attention for the last fifty-seven days. "Are you seriously over-analyzing the Looney Tunes?"

Rachel shot him a contemptuous look, but then silently turned back to the cartoon. Dean snickered silently as he likened her in that moment to a huffy child that had just been outwitted.

And that was what happened to people who tried to teach him about his "place".

It was obvious, though, that while Rachel was now quiet, she was still bothered by the absurdity that was a staple ingredient in any given Looney Tunes cartoon. Dean shook his head and kept his peace, though. He'd promised Sam he'd at least try to get along with She-Bitch, and it wouldn't do to get into it over a cartoon.

Unfortunately, Dean had some trouble doing the 'thinking' thing before the 'speaking and acting' bit, and so when Rachel made a noise of obvious discontent he rolled his eyes and said "What is it this time?"

Rachel glanced warily at him before locking her eyes back on the TV. "The duck," She began, drawing in a deep breath. "Is trying to convince the pig to buy insurance for his home."

"Daffy and Porky." Rachel stared at him.

"What?" Dean gestured towards the TV.

"Daffy Duck and Porky Pig- That's their names." Rachel blinked at him for a moment and then continued on. He spit his tongue out at her behind her back.

"The duck keeps trying to get the pig to get into accidents so that the pig will buy the insurance."


"And every time the duck sets up an accident, he walks into them himself! How does he not remember that he stuffed the closet full of items a moment before? He went walking right in and everything fell on top of him!"

Dean bit his lip and this time, he really did give some thought to his words before speaking because aside from his promise to Sammy, he really didn't want to get into it with Cas' body-guard right now.

"It's supposed to be funny." He said slowly, pointedly. "It's supposed to be funny that his own schemes backfire on him. It's supposed to be funny because he's stupid." And his traitorous mind added in Like you, on the end of that. Silently, thankfully, because she would hurt him. She would hurt him badly.

However, it seemed that Rachel had picked up on his tone.

"Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. I don't need your condescension." She snapped.

"How is it my fault that you're confused by classic cartoons?"

"If you don't intend to help, then just don't talk to me." Rachel spat.

"Jesus. Take a chill-pill, bitch." Dean mumbled.

She heard him.

When Sam and Castiel returned to the room not even two minutes later, "The Merry-Go-Round Broke Down" was signaling the beginning of a new cartoon and Rachel had Dean pinned to the floor, arm twisted behind his back, face pressed into the cheap carpeting of the motel floor. Dean was trying very hard not to think of all the things that the rug had probably absorbed over the years.

"Fifteen minutes!" Sam groused as Castiel convinced Rachel to let Dean up. "That was all! Fifteen minutes and you two try to kill each other!"

"She tried to kill me!"

"He took Christ's name in vain," Rachel retorted. "And then he called me a bitch." Sam honestly couldn't tell which part of that she was more irritated about.

"Rachel, please do not attack Dean. You could hurt him. And Dean, please do not call Rachel a 'bitch' or take Christ's name in vain." Castiel sounded like a parent mediating between two children. And judging from the almost-pouts on both Dean and Rachel's mouths, Sam figured that that wasn't too far from the truth.

Rachel went back to sit on the end of Sam's bed, and Dean started picking apart the food. Sam grabbed Castiel by the arm, locked eyes with him and gave the angel a dirty, dirty glare.

"For the record, that was your fault."

"I thought we should give them a chance to get along."

"We can do that when they can be civil to each other around other people for more than two minutes, and they're a long way from that." Sam grumbled. He released Castiel's arm and moved into the bathroom to wash his hands. When he returned, Castiel was sitting at the table with Dean, and Rachel was watching the Looney Tunes again (Sam would only later learn that Looney Tunes had been the cause of the fight).

"Rachel, did you want anything to eat?"

"No thank you, Sam." She cocked her head at the TV. "What is he doing?" Sam glanced at the screen. Daffy Duck was in a red and green medieval get-up as Robin Hood.

"He's singing." He watched for a moment. "And now he's tripping. And falling."

"I know that. But why?"

"He's Robin Hood."

"What's a Robin Hood?"

"He's a character from English folklore; he was a thief that stole from the rich and gave the goods to the poor."

"But in the last episode he was an insurance salesman!" Rachel cried in frustration.

"Mother of-" Dean had thrown his hands up into the air as he started to speak, but Sam quickly darted over and slapped a hand over his older brother's mouth. If it wasn't blasphemous, it would probably be rude.

Castiel, thankfully, seemed to have grasped the concept of absurd human television programs. "I believe the sole point of the show is to be entertaining and humorous, Rachel, rather than having a single, logical storyline."

Rachel seemed to be far more accepting of this idea when it was her brother that proposed it. "Oh."

"That's what I said-!" Sam kicked Dean, and his older brother growled with frustration, which he expressed in the form of stabbing his burger with a fork. Sam winced, but was at least thankful that the fork had not been directed at him, Cas or Rachel.

But the night was still young, unfortunately.


"So tell us about this witch."

Sam pulled out a few of the news articles related to the deaths that had been occurring in the area for the last month, as well as a picture of their suspect. "We're guessing she's been active for about two months now. At first most of the trouble seemed pretty revenge-motivated: Anyone who'd given her any crap, classmates, teachers, coworkers, parents, they were all getting into pretty serious 'Accidents'. And then, just recently, the attacks started getting more indiscriminate."

"We figured either whatever demon she's getting her mojo from is starting to call in favors, or maybe she's just gone super-psycho with the power." Dean finished. "Wouldn't be the first." Castiel exchanged a glance with Rachel.

"Who has the witch been attacking that would make you think it was indiscriminate?" Rachel inquired.

"Uh…" Sam thought for a moment. "About five people she had no connection to whatsoever. One of them was a twelve year-old girl; she's in a coma. Still haven't figured out why."

"Bitch probably tried out a spell on her." Dean grumbled. "I hate witches. Hate 'em. Casting freaky spells on people, spewing their bodily fluids everywhere…" He broke off into a moody mumbling session, part of which Sam was sure was partially fueled by his remaining irritation from the fight with Rachel earlier.

"Where is the witch now?" Castiel asked.

"126 Bluebell Avenue." Sam replied promptly. "Ten minutes from here."

"And you're certain that she's the one?" Rachel was looking at the picture of the girl they'd flagged as the witch. He didn't blame her: The girl was no more than eighteen or nineteen, with curly blonde hair, glasses and an otherwise unimposing demeanor. Killing her would be difficult, especially if she tried to play on their sympathy.

"Yes, we're sure she's the one." Dean's voice had an edge to it, even though Rachel's tone hadn't been accusatory. She glared at him briefly, but didn't press it, and Sam was grateful. "We do know what we're doing, you know."

"We know, Dean." Castiel's gaze may have held a bit of irritation directed at Dean, and Sam felt himself grow a little nervous. Castiel had been angry at Dean before, had been upset with him, but never over a subject as sensitive as family. It was easy to forget sometimes, but Rachel was Castiel's sister, and they were clearly close. Sam couldn't imagine that Cas was too thrilled with the way Dean was speaking to her.

"So we were thinking-"

"You were thinking." Dean corrected, knowing where Sam was going.

"-That we should confront her. Carefully. She's just a kid; she might be willing to stop."

"Or she may end up actually being just like that psycho witch-bitch who raised Samhain," Dean said flatly. "She looked like a sweet little peach too until we found that hex bag with the baby bones in it."

"Caution would be wise, given her age." Castiel said slowly. "The dark powers can wreak havoc on an otherwise sane person's mind. We should see if she is repenting, and if not…" He didn't have to finish.

"We will assist in any way we can." Rachel smiled, but Sam noticed that said smile was only directed at him, and she wasn't sparing a glance at Dean. Sam smiled back, took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Okay. Let's head out." Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed his jacket off the back. Castiel and Rachel disappeared with a slight gust of wind, and Sam knew that they were probably already a safe distance from 126 Bluebell Avenue and staking out the area around.

"Freakin' angels, man." Dean grunted.

"Dean," Sam snapped. "Enough. I'm serious. Stop pissing Rachel off. You're making Cas mad too. How would you feel if someone started running their mouth of about me or our parents?"


"You'd flip out, because that's what you do when someone starts ragging on your family. Rachel is his sister, Dean, and I don't think he appreciates you being an ass to her."

"She's a big girl. She can handle it. And she's not exactly nice to me either, Sam."

"Knock it off, Dean. I mean it." Dean turned and looked Sam in the eye.

"Or what?"

"Or, or I'll…" Sam thought for a minute, wondering, searching for the right kind of leverage. Then, then his expression darkened and he lowered his voice. "Or I'll tell them both all about how you got your ass probed by fairies and then kicked by Tinkerbell."

Dean stared at him in mute horror. "You remember that?"

"Bobby was more than happy to share that one. Apparently I told him all about it after it happened. And I will tell Cas and Rachel."

"You wouldn't." Sam didn't answer, and kept his eyes locked on his brother's. "God damn, you would."

"Damn straight I would."

Dean seemed to be weighing the options. Rachel and Castiel had little to no sense of humor- that made sense to him- but knowing his luck, they would see the humor in that… Fiasco… And rub it in with salt and vinegar.

And so, against his will, Dean managed a toothy, lock-jawed smile.

"All right: Let's kill us a witch."


Sam should have never agreed to this.

Not ever.

And he never would again.

"I feel short." He groused, running a hand through Cas- through Jimmy Novak's- hair and rolling his shoulders.

"I feel like a bitch." Dean's smirk on Rachel- on her vessel's- face was almost terrifying. And in Dean's body, Rachel looked close to beating on him, but drew back when she realized that she would only be damaging her own body.

Castiel, meanwhile, was standing stalk-still and straight-backed in Sam's body. Sam winced as he imagined the massive neck-kink he would probably have when he returned.

"The witch is dead; the spell will not last long." It sounded weird hearing Castiel's words in Sam's voice. "A few hours more at most."

"Go back to heaven," Dean said easily and again, his casual tone sounded just plain odd in Rachel's voice. "Scare the shit out of Raphael." Dean- No, Rachel- tilted her head to the side, as did Castiel.

I don't think we need to cover just how bizarre the 'confused-angel head-tilt' was on Sam and Dean's bodies.

"I don't believe this would be sufficient enough to frighten Raphael. He has seen great horrors over his millennia alive."

Dean's voice speaking those words.

God did Sam hate witches.

"It was a joke, princess." Dean wrinkled his- Rachel's- nose and scoffed. "Ugh. I can't believe I just said that to someone wearing my body."

"I can."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that, as you humans say, you are not the sharpest tack in the box, Dean."

"Oh, you did not just call me stupid."

"I think I did: Having trouble processing that as well?" Dean leaped up, and Rachel stepped forward.

"How about I kick your ass?"

"You've never succeeded in doing so before."

"Yeah, but I'm in your body, so-"


Dean found himself pinned to the floor, same as he had been earlier, the only difference being that it had the bizarre appearance of Dean subjugating Rachel. Dean- Rachel, damn it, Rachel!- leaned down close to the actual Dean's ear.

"You're in my vessel." Rachel corrected sleekly. "Which means that I am every bit as capable of putting you in your place now as I was-"

Without warning, everyone's vision doubled, and the strangest tugging sensation alerted Sam to the fact that the spell was wearing off, and that hopefully, God willing, when his eyes straightened out again-


Sam was tall. Cas was short. And…

Rachel was on the floor, Dean pinning her down.

Dean grinned.

"Damn, that feels good!"

"Uh, Dean-?"


Sam sighed and shut his eyes. Castiel didn't look even slightly bothered. "Never again, Cas. Never again."



The three Looney Tunes episodes referenced here are "Bugs Bunny Gets the Boid", "Fool Coverage" and "Robin Hood Daffy" (The last one being one of my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE Looney Tunes episodes like, ever).