Bored one night, this idea popped into my head. A little weird, but I will post it anyways... please enjoy :)
The shop's been closed for a mere five minutes when she's visited by him. One minute, the place is empty. The next, after she gathers the ongoing beer bottles into her arms to throw out, she turns around and he's standing there.
She squeals and drops all the bottles. They shatter on the floor. He doesn't flinch.
She's able to catch her breath quickly. "Um, hello there," she offers shyly. "How did you get in here?"
He hasn't moved, but slowly he looks down at her. "I believe you serve alcoholic beverages here?" he asks in a low, gravelly voice. "I would like one."
She swallows, still pondering at how he was able to sneak up on her. I thought I locked that damn door… "I'm sorry sir, we're closed," she apologizes. "But we open up around eleven thirty A.M. tomorrow."
He gulps thickly, opens and closes his mouth a few times. Finally, he says, "Please."
She sighs. "Fine," she gives in. "But don't tell anyone about this. I'm not gonna give every drunk man in this town drinks 24/7…" She bends down to get the beer bottles.
He waves a hand at her. "Do not worry about those," he snaps. "Just get the drink."
She flinches, then slowly stands up and makes her way in the back and grabs the first beer she sees. When she walks back out, the man is sitting on one of the bar stools. His beige trench coat and black business jacket are off, and his white shirt is unbuttoned a little ways down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. She swallows, ignoring his intense gaze, and places the beer in front of him.
He takes it. She realizes that she forgot to take the cap off, but before she can ask for it back for a second, he twists the cap off and flings it into the garbage can. She backs up, a small whimper escaping her throat. This man's beginning to creep her out.
"Are you satisfied?" she asks on instinct, waiting for him to shout at her for something else or to leave him alone. She stares hard at him, forcing herself to look calm and cool about the whole situation.
He just nods and chugs half the bottle. "I am fine," he replies once he has swallowed all in his mouth. "Thank you."
She nods; barely gets out a soft, "you're welcome" and heads over to clean up all the mess she'd made dropping the bottles. When she gets over to the exact spot, however, she's shocked to find it all clean, not a single shard of glass lying around. She spins on her heels to face the man, but he has his back to her and is guzzling down the beer.
Slowly, she sets to cleaning the rest of the restaurant, throwing all the empty green and brown bottles out, washing the dishes and mopping the floors, cleaning the restaurant for the morning. As she's putting the last of the final clean plates away, she catches him staring at her. She realizes that his bottle is empty and, at the rate that he had been drinking, probably had been empty for a while.
"Shit," she swears in a trembling voice and almost drops the plate she's currently holding. "I'm sorry. Would you like another beer, sir?"
Wordlessly, he nods, and she takes the empty bottle away, throwing it out as she makes her way to the back, where all the beer is stored. She grabs another Jack Daniel's and opens it this time, then proceeds to bring it back out. "There you are, sir," she smiles lightly. "Can I get you anything else?"
He barely shakes his head, then sips the beer, slower this time. Since the place is all clean, she sits back on the opposite counter and waits for this freak to be done so she can kick him out and lock up before she gets into trouble.
He sets the beer down and just sits there, staring at the counter, where his hands are folded in front of his field of vision. It could be her crazy imagination, but she thinks that he looks stressed out. She cocks her head, a little concerned now.
He swallows thickly a couple of times, and then speaks. "You are Stephanie Anderson, are you not?"
She stifles a gasp by covering her mouth with her soft, petite hand. Her heart pounds as she watches him, trying to figure out where they had met. "Y-yes," she finally manages to get out, and the stammer in there is embarrassingly obvious.
He nods, then lifts his head to take a good look at her. His baby blue eyes sparkle lively in the dim light that the restaurant offers, never leaving the emerald green orbs that shine right back. "Nineteen years old," he murmurs. "Working at a bar. Do you not have parties to go to at night?"
She gulps, completely scared now of the stalker that she's talking to. "It's a summer job," she whispers, offering a nervous smile.
He squints, as if the light is blinding him as he looks her up and down. "You are… beautiful," he finally says, and she almost falls off the counter. "A wonderful creation."
She smiles again, but it falters. She mentally struggles to find words to say, but she doesn't know if it is right to thank a mysterious guy who knows all about you and then says that you're beautiful. She considers making a dash for the door.
He promptly downs the rest of the bottle, practically the whole thing since he had not taken a lot on his first sip. "I am Castiel," he says afterwards, hiccupping. "I am…"
"Don't," she cuts him off and he looks at her in shock. "I'm- I'm sorry. Just… Please leave."
He does. He stands, grabs his clothes. She walks around to lead him to the door; catches him when he stumbles and almost melts when the wet blue eyes meet hers, full of gratitude and admiration. "Thanks," he offers.
She opens the door, folds her arms protectively over her mid-section as she watches him struggle to walk. "You sure you can get home?" she calls, almost regretting snapping at him.
He turns around. "My father will guide me home," he says. "I know he will."
She blinks in shock. He's gone.
I'm going crazy, she thinks as she walks back in to grab her jacket and the keys. I was hallucinating the whole time. That man was a figment of my imagination come to taunt me. No man can just disappear like that. I'm going insane.
His image remains in her mind all night.
She's shocked when he appears at the bar the next night. This time, he's early, because the bar is still open and there are still people stumbling around the place. She blinks when she sees him, rubs her eyes and tries to make him go away.
He remains in the swivel seat, staring at her from across the counter.
She crosses to Justin, the other waiter behind the bar. "I need some fresh air," she whispers. "Can you take them for me? Just for a little while?"
Justin winks at her. "Five dollars out of your pay check and we have a deal."
She slaps him across the chest but makes her way around the people and tables and steps through the door and into the night. She's instantly relieved by the cool breeze and the stars that twinkle above her. She takes a deep breath, swallowing back nausea and raking her fingers through her caramel brown hair.
She sits on the bench a couple feet away from the door and fools with her fingers in her lap. She takes deep steadying breaths to calm herself and tell herself that she's not hallucinating, that the creepy man who is sitting inside is just some smart, fast person who knows everyone in town.
"You are not happy to see me, Stephanie," a soft voice says from above her. She jumps and almost collapses off the chair when she sees him standing above her.
"Cas-Castiel," she breathes, the name slipping off of her tongue smoothly. She composes herself, brushes off the invisible dust particles from her lap, and tucks her hair behind her ear. "What are you doing?"
"You said that I came at a bad time yesterday," he says. The bench shifts and groans softly with the sudden added weight, and she blinks furiously, refusing to meet his gaze. "So I came at a better time today." He hesitates. "This is a better time?"
She looks at him for the first time this night. He's wearing what he did yesterday, only the black jacket and the trench coat remain on his body. He's looking straight ahead, at the yellow poppy field across the way. "No, this…. Yeah, it's a good time," she finally stutters.
A ghost of a smile passes over his lips. It's gone just as quickly. "Good," he says.
They sit in silence for a while. Stephanie begins to relax, his presence almost soothing her. She relaxes back into the bench, and before she knows it, she's tucked up against him, his arm slung protectively around her thin figure. She flinches. He startles, peers down at her.
"I'm sorry," she apologizes quickly as she struggles to get out from his strong grip. "I… I didn't mean… I'm sorry."
He releases her, confused, and she jumps off of the bench and sheepishly moves to stand in front of him.
He looks up at her. "It was okay," he says slowly, almost sounding disappointed. He visibly hesitates, then looks down as he folds his hands in his lap. "I really like you, Stephanie Anderson."
She stops breathing for a second. She had (unconsciously) thought he was attractive the first time she saw him. Now… even more so. "I… thanks," she says, unsure of how to reply.
He stands up, then cups the side of her face with his hand. "If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to freak out?"
She nods slowly, body going numb.
He leans down, and when he speaks his rough lips brush against her ear. "I am an Angel of the Lord."
She almost laughs. But when he pulls back, face blank and reading no emotion whatsoever, she pulls away, gasping. "Are you drunk?" she cries. "What the hell?"
He only shakes his head sadly. "Watch," he commands, voice strong.
And then, in the light that appears out of nowhere, she sees them. They span so wide and high that her jaw drops and won't close. She tries to find the trick, the way he's doing this, but there's nothing. And as soon as they reach their full length and height, the light disappears and they're gone.
She blinks furiously, finally gets the strength to shut her mouth, then sits there pondering on what to say. She looks down, waiting for someone to jump out and yell, "April Fools!' even though it is only August. Nothing happens.
"You hate me."
The voice sounds so broken, so choked up that she jumps and immediately runs to his side, wiping away the stray tear that's running down his cheek, shushing him and trying to tell him that it's okay, instinct taking over. "Shh, no I don't," she pleads. "Please don't cry. I believe you, okay?"
He nods. "I normally don't cry," he quickly explains. "Sometimes my vessel's emotions sneak out." He looks down at himself.
"Vessel?" Stephanie can't help asking.
Castiel nods. "The human that my form is in. This is Jimmy Novak. He is a devoted man who prayed for me to do this."
She smiles and pretends to understand.
He smiles back, then slowly leans down and presses his lips to hers.
The response is immediate. She grabs his neck, pulling him closer to her so that they're bodies are chest to chest. He grabs her head, forcing it to his own and keeping his lips pushed against hers. He kisses her neck, face, chest, anywhere he can reach without disconnecting from the hold.
She finally pulls back, hair a little unkempt, eyes wild. "My place," she breathes.
"Allow me," he replies and a second later they're in her apartment. She looks around, eyes wide, but they quickly come to rest on the person in front of her. She grins, flashing pearly white teeth.
He looks at the queen sized bed and back at her. "Should we…" he gestures towards it, unsure of what to do.
She rolls her eyes, then smiles playfully as she takes off all of his shirts, then tackles him onto the bed.
The lights go out.
Morning brings Stephanie and Castiel lying side by side in the bed, sheet covering their bare bodies. Castiel's form is fitted into the position that Stephanie's body is resting in, arm slung around her waist and holding her to him. He smiles when she stirs. "Hello."
She turns her head and smiles. "Hey there," she says and rests her lips against his for a second. "How was your night?"
"That was amazing," he admits, cuddling her closer. "Thank you."
She giggles as she snuggles back into his warm form, closing her eyes in pleasure.
That's when he hears Dean's voice, calling Castiel to the older Winchester's location, miles away. He sighs, regretting pulling away from the sweet girl who took away his innocence. "I have to go," he whispers and kisses her forehead.
She looks at him with sad eyes, watches him get dressed with the same expression. "Will I ever see you again?" she asks once he's standing in the middle of the room, not looking decent but still covered up.
He looks at her in sympathy before crossing the room and kneeling down to press his lips to hers. "Doubt it," he says in sympathy.
He stands up, and as he flutters away, he hears her call out, "I love you, Castiel."
He appears behind a pacing Dean in a motel somewhere in Virginia. Sam is at the other side of the room, sitting at a table and sharpening knives. "Hello Dean," he says.
Dean turns around, ready to explain himself, but stops when he takes in the Angel's matted hair and wrinkled clothes. "What happened to you?" he asks. "You get hit by a semi or something?"
Castiel cocks his head. "I believe you call it "Losing your virginity"," he quotes the elder.
Sam burst out laughing.
Five months later, working a night shift at the bar, Stephanie finds herself wiping tables with a dirty rag when she hears the flutter of wings. She doesn't have to look up to know who it is, and before he is even aware of his surroundings, Stephanie is halfway across the room, darting straight for him to wrap her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his once more.
So... Tell me what you think? No flames please :)