A/N: So I know I have to update The Proposal and I really have to update Staying Alive but this popped into my head this morning so I just had to get it down and share it with you guys. If any of y'all like it and want more just let more know, otherwise enjoy this little oneshot! Mwuah!

Waking up with a rattling gasp and a hack, Deanna opened her eyes to complete darkness and the feeling of being trapped in a far too small space. She fumbled for the lighter she knew to be in her right jacket pocket, fingers clumsy as they clamber to strike a flame. When at last she succeeds Deanna is none too happy to discover she is in a wooden coffin, no doubt several feet underground.

Fighting not to panic – she always hated tight spaces and made sure that Sammy was usually the one to deal with them when they were part of cases – Deanna flipped her lighter closed and stuffed it back in her pocket to free up her hands. With as deep a breath as she dared on her limited amount of oxygen she punched and kicked at the lid of the coffin with all her might. Amazingly it didn't take too long; maybe whoever put her here knew she'd need to get out on her own and gave her a coffin strong enough to hold up against all the dirt but weak enough for her to break through.

Then again, it might also have to do with the guy standing next to her grave as she struggled out of the tons of dirt, wearing a suit with a backwards blue tie and a dirty, oversized overcoat.

"Who – are – you?" Deanna somehow managed to gasp out through her parched throat and ragged breaths, understandably wary of the almost otherworldly man standing stiff and calm as can be on the other side of the hole she dug her way out of.

Piercing blue eyes stare at her unerringly under a head of messy black sex hair – which was a little bit of a turn-on Deanna couldn't help but note. "I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition," answered a gravelly as fuck voice that didn't quite fit the man yet did so perfectly.

"…what?!" Deanna rasped incredulously.

"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord." The man walked around the grave to stand in front of her, staring down at her.

Mouth agape Deanna couldn't help but retort, "There's no such thing as angels." The man's eyes narrowed. "And even if there were, why the fuck would one save me?" Now the head tilted, reminding Deanna of a bird.

"You don't think you deserve to be saved." It was not a question; this man, this angel, said it as if Deanna had already done so – or like he read it directly from her mind. "You truly are the Righteous Woman."

"I'm sorry, I'm the what now?"

Upon reaching Bobby's – by fucking teleporting like they're on the fucking Starship Enterprise – Deanna was forced to duck behind one of the many piles of shit cars as a shotgun round was fired directly at Cas.

"What the fuck Bobby?!" she yelled from behind the pile just before she turned around at the sound of a familiar grunt then gasp to see Sammy stabbing Cas in the chest with Ruby's knife.

"Jesus Sammy, he's clean; he's not a fucking demon," Deanna snapped as Cas nonchalantly pulled the knife out of his chest and dropped it on the ground, doing that birdy head tilt thing again while examining Sam like an interesting specimen – talk about fucking creepy.

Sam spun around, holy water flask in hand, dousing Deanna and making her splutter.

"I was a bit thirst after four months in the dirt but I was thinking something more along the lines of whiskey," she snapped, watching Bobby march up with shotgun in hand, holding out the customary silver knife. "Fine you big babies, I'll prove to you it's really me." She rolled up the sleeve of her leather jacket, snatching the knife from Bobby before slicing into her forearm. Then, while they were at it, she stooped down to pick up the demon knife Cas had dropped and cut into her arm with that too. "There, you happy?"

"Not until you tell me how you're alive and what the hell he is," Bobby grumbled, shotgun still focused on Castiel's chest despite the last round doing squat to even get a reaction out of him.

Castiel stepped forward until his chest met the shotgun, still examining Sam critically. "I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord."

"He pulled me outta Hell," Deanna added helpfully, motioning at him with her thumb.

"Why?" Sam asked, tone and gaze more curious than accusatory, being the one in the family who actually 'believes' or whatever.

Deanna shrugged. "Apparently I'm the Righteous Woman. Whatever that means."

Bobby frowned, giving Deanna a funny look. "Don't you mean the Righteous Man?" Of course Bobby would know even a little bit what the fuck Cas was talking about, what with all his bible lore and shit.

"A soul has no gender," Castiel answered. "All that truly matters is that Deanna went to Hell for someone other than herself – to save Sam's life."

"…and broke," Bobby added somewhat reluctantly, giving Deanna a pitying look that she did not like one bit.

"After thirty years in Hell, yes. Far longer than most," Castiel continued oh so helpfully, turning his gaze back on Deanna.

"Thirty years?!" Sam exclaimed. "You were only dead for four months!" He turned to Deanna, puppy dog eyes in full force. "And what do they mean you broke?"

Deanna squirmed, not having wanted to have this conversation at all, let alone right after she got back.


"Time moves differently in Hell Sammy," Deanna finally said. "One month on Earth is a decade. And I broke. After thirty years of torture I finally took Alistair up on his offer and started torturing other souls – just to make it stop." She looked up at Sam, craning her neck because he's so freakishly tall. "But the thing is Sammy… The thing is, I liked it. I was well on my way to becoming a demon."

When she said that Deanna swore she saw Castiel flinch in her peripheral vision but when she turned her head to look at him he had that blank expression that she got the feeling she would learn to read.

Deanna paced the room she claimed at Bobby's house long ago, hands buried deep in her dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes watching from the bed. Glancing over out of the corner of her eye she flinched at the sight of the hair, even more disheveled than usual, and kiss-swollen and spit-shiny lips. She did that; she debauched an angel – a fucking angel. What the fuck was she doing?

"What the fuck am I doing?" she said out loud, still pacing. "I have no right to do this. You're a fucking angel of Christ's sake, I shouldn't be think about all the hot, kinky, delicious things I want to do to you, or the hot, kinky, delicious things I want you to do to me."

"Why?" said the gravelly voice from the bed, horribly wreaked already, totally not helping Deanna's self-control.

She came to a halt and spun around to face the angel. "Why?" she exclaimed. "Because you're an angel! You're fucking pure and innocent, and never thought a fucking thing about sex until – dude, you've never even been given the 'birds and the bees' speech!"

His brow furrowed, confused. "What do birds and bees have to do with -"

"Exactly!" Deanna interrupted. "That's my point exactly!"

Castiel just continued to frown from the bed, trying to understand what crazy, silly, human thing Deanna was fuming about this time, all the while ignoring the raging hard-on he had going on, tenting his suit trousers.

Taking a deep breath Deanna closed her eyes as all the fight suddenly seeped out, leaving her feeling horribly exposed and vulnerable – but for once she couldn't care less because this was Cas and he saw past the bravado anyway.

"Just because you spent forty years in Hell to pull me out; just because you rebelled against Heaven and faced off against fucking archangels for me; just because you've been cast out, are being hunted by your brothers and sisters, and are falling because of me doesn't mean I deserve this." She opened her eyes and stared into Castiel's, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the tears working down her cheeks. "I don't deserve any of that, much less this," she whispered brokenly.

Staring back, staring into her soul like he always does, Castiel stood up and walked over until he stood in Deanna's personal space, right in the spot he always occupies; the spot that has been labeled as Castiel's. "I have told you before Deanna: you have the brightest soul I have ever seen, far brighter even than the sun, brighter than the most magnificent galaxy.

"You are the Righteous Woman, and that is why I did all of those things – because you deserve it, and so much more.

"And this?" He reached up and cupped her cheek in one of his enormous, beautiful hands; thumb stroking her cheekbone, wiping away the tears. "This I choose to give you because I have loved you from the moment I set eyes on your soul, from the moment you struggled against my Grace the whole way out of Hell, demanding I save someone else, then refused to let go once I rebuilt your body and went to restore you to it.

"And you have done nothing but fight me since – and I love you more for it."

Removing his hand from her cheek, Castiel leaned down until his forehead was against hers, his right hand sliding down to her bicep to fit perfectly over the mark he left over a year ago, sending up the familiar tingle and spark. Blue eyes peered into emerald ones, allowing Deanna to see the emotion he only recently started exhibiting, allowing her to see he spoke the truth and so much more.

Deanna couldn't handle it, all that love and affection and adoration and frustration, all focused solely on her. She had to close her eyes against it, afraid of what she might say or do otherwise. Of course, she needn't have done so; she said it anyway – and meant it more than anything she'd ever said before.

"And I love you," she said on a shaky breath. "God help me but I do, no matter how fucking annoying and frustrating and creepy you are."

She swore she heard a short, gravelly chuckle at that so she opened her eyes to be met with those insanely blue ones before Castiel titled his forward just that little bit more and kissed her, slow and tender and so much better than the lust-filled ones they'd shared not an hour ago.