Under Lock and Key

Home was officially not an option anymore. Everywhere I went, the others were whispering about me,glaring at me openly. They couldn't believe that anyone would not want the ultimate gift, that anyone would refuse the offer to become an angel - not that I had, but I wasn't happy about it. These stiffs. They wouldn't understand at all.

There was one thing - one person - anchoring me to the freedom of being a messenger. Messengers were given so much more freedom, more than humans, even. We were always forgiven. Because there were so few of us willing to go everywhere that a messenger was sent to.

That was mostly where Castiel's anger at me, and my anger at him, stemmed from. Castiel was something of a... family pet, like the border collie that everyone loved and adored because he sat when asked and talked when ordered. He fetched upon given something to retrieve and came upon call. I was like the pet gerbil that nobody gave a damn about - I was there to be cooed at and given the tedious task of turning constantly on that wheel that kept squeaking no matter how many times it was oiled. Castiel got treats, I got pellets and a dripping water bottle.

Cas got the good jobs and the best powers, while I was made precisely just to travel in and out of Hell every month.

Oh yes, that was my personal menstrual cycle.

There was one thing, I supposed, that made working under Cas bearable, in the least. It was that he didn't look down on me just because I didn't want what he had. I didn't want to be an angel, and while I'm sure he didn't understand that, he didn't descriminate against me for it. The one thing he did do, though, was kill my fun.

I'd caught him off-gaurd once again that morning, and he wasn't in the happiest of moods. First he began mumbling about being unable to baby-sit the Winchesters and a bratty messenger at the same time. I reminded him that Dad would be listening and he shut right up, adding a glare at me toward the end. Now we stared at each other in pure silence, refusing to look away or even blink.

The staring had been going on for hours, and probably could have gone on for much more, when there was a knock at Castiel's door. His stare turned into a glare, as if to say I was lucky we had company, and he walked slowly over to the door, opening it with a kind of forced calmness that nearly made me giggle aloud.

"Hey Cas," came a deep voice. Castiel hesitated for a moment and stepped back slowly, shooting me a furtive glance. Dean Winchester stepped into Cas' apartment and his eyes skimmed right over me for a fraction of a second before jumping back to me. "Who's this?" he asked, smiling at me. I smiled back flirtily and Cas sighed.

"This is Laurelai. My..." He grimaced. "My apprentice." Dean looked back at Cas, a bit of surprise in his eyes.

"Well I didn't expect you to ever take anyone under your wing," he said with a smirk. Cas scrunched up his eyes at Dean for a moment, assessing the pun, before closing the door. "What do you have an apprentice for?"

"I am being heavily punished," Cas said firmly, as if he believed it. I smiled mischeviously. "As Laurelai and I have never gotten along well, I have no comprehension whatsoever as to why she has been put under my care. I've only come to the conclusion that I am being punished for something." I moved over to the chair I'd been sitting in only a day before and pulled out my nail file, filing my nails once again.

"Cause you're the favorite, Cas," I said. Both of them looked at me in my new position in surprise. "Dad figures if you can't fix me, no one can."

"Dad?" Dean said slowly in his deep voice. "You're an angel?"

"Nope," I replied, waving my hand lazily before filing it again. "Just the messenger."

"They have messengers?"

"Sure. How do you think Cas got his powers back? Not like he could magically appear in Heaven." I grinned mischeviously at Cas. "Scared him then too." He thanked me with another glare and reached into his cooler for another beer. He handed one to Dean and I looked away as they both began to drink. "Filfthy habits," I said to no one in particular.

"You act as if you have never tried one," Cas said with the slight tone of accusation in his voice. I placed my hand on my chest in mock indignation.

"Did I say I didn't drink? No, of course not. Merely stated it was a filfthy habit." A sigh of exsasperation flew from Cas' lips.

"Do you see what I have to put up with?" he said to Dean. Dean merely smiled and lifted his beer to his lips. I studied him for a while; his eyes seemed glazed over and out of focus. Was he drunk already? No, Cas was talking to him and he seemed to understand every word that was being said. I couldn't comprehend what had him so down.

It was dropping my already depressing mood to a dangerously low level. Despite that, something inside me desperately wanted to help him, and I had a feeling it wasn't the angel inside of me, but the one thing that kept me from wanting to be one.

That absurd, unclean feeling that I could have a limitless amout of fun with this man standing in front of me.

My flinch went unnoticed by either. "Well, if anyone needs me," I said loudly, "I'll be in Vegas." Both of them focused on me.

"Don't even Laurelai," Cas said before I could move. "I am supposed to be helping you be good, and you going out to sin is not going to help either of us." I groaned.

"C'mon Cas. You've sucked all the fun out of my life and it hasn't even been one day. Give me some ground! I'm suffering from fun-withdrawal!" He let me continue to ramble on for another five minutes. "You know that in rehab, they make you take smaller doses of whatever you're addicted to, and then they cut you off completely? You're supposed to take it bit by bit Cas. You've... You're like a health obsessed parent who takes away all the hard-earned candy a kid gets on Halloween!" There was still no response from Cas and I stomped my foot angrily. "You can't do this to me!"

Finally, with the straightest face that I knew was hiding all the laughter Cas could manage, he said, "Go to your room."

My face flushed and my eyes went wide. Suddenly, I felt like a scolded child. I'd given him exactly what he expected - exactly what he wanted and made a fool out of myself in front of Dean at the same time.

Well, I figured, if I had to go out, I'd go out with a bang.

"I don't have a room!" I screamed.

*Poof.*

"Seems like you have your hands full," Dean said with a smirk. Castiel glared at him, sighed, and downed the rest of his beer.

"Better go find her. Lock the door on your way out."

Ha! Good luck finding me on The Strip...