Tumblr Prompt: Meg joins Team Free Will on their FBI work. S8 timeline.

Just a fun fic to play up some comedy.

FBI Impersonation

"So let's run over it one last time," Dean said as he shut the driver's door on the Impala. Sam and Castiel joined him on the sidewalk and looked up at the police station in unison. They'd had to drive two straight hours from the previous murder site to get here and no one had expected the small city to be this busy. All around him, police cruisers were pulling in and out of the packed parking lot, officers running left and right. The state border town was busy trying to keep order after the latest string of murders and Dean was glad they hadn't crashed into his car when one set of officers pulled in at high speed.

Digging into his jacket pocket, he handed over a leather badge holder to Castiel and Sam checked his as well. With a clenched jaw, Sam slapped his badge shut.

"Oh come on, Dean. Agent Mickey?" he demanded irritably. Dean grinned and flashed him his badge name and Sam rolled his eyes once he'd read it. "No wonder no one takes us seriously."

"No... that would be because Cas has a problem with understanding interrogation," Dean said, glancing at Castiel. He was squinting at the brick building with his head tilted, clearly trying to see something in the old red siding.

"I fail to see why human methods of interrogation are better than angels. Ours is faster," the angel commented. "In and out of minds is quick."

"Well, it's probably because this way we don't leave the guy a drooling mess and we don't get run out of town by the cops like last time you tried it."

"I could take care of that as well," Castiel offered and Sam held up his hands.

"No thanks, Cas. Just... watch and learn, okay? It's just easier that way. You're good for a lot of things but the more we minimize you having to really deal with people, the easier it is on us. No offence."

"None taken." Castiel eyed the taller man. "I hope you both remember that favour when you get in my way when I am trying to use my power."

Dean glanced at Castiel. "You've gotten a lot snarkier since Purgatory."

The three men started up the steps and Dean ran through what they were going to do with Castiel. He'd only answered Dean's call a few hours before and didn't know much other than he was here as back-up.

"So, just so we're clear, it's not just murders. This place used to be quiet, the perfect little community, until six months ago. Then suddenly, boom, bad luck. Murders escalated, missing children, suicide rates... all signs pointing to one vicious hex and a witch on a power trip. Turns out this witch is part of Crowley's circle, as Sam found out. So, simple interrogation. We get her, pump her for information, and bingo, we get Crowley's hideout and wherever he's stashed the word." Dean held the door open for Castiel and Sam and looked around. "Not like she made her presence subtle. Killing another witch in the open and leaving her knife behind was... stupid. Pretty bad slip-up."

"Well, we can ask her why she did it in the first place," Sam grumbled. "Won't that be simple?"

"Hey, wrong side of the bed much?"

Castiel frowned, trying to follow. His mind was already on dealing with a witch but the boys' bickering was odd. "There's a right side to the bed?"

"Depends on the girl but that's not like you'd know," Dean jibed as they came to the front desk.

The tall redheaded woman sitting behind a mountain of folders looked at him curiously. "Can I help you?"

Dean peered at her badge and then smiled.

"Uh yes, Sergeant Rally. Agents Mickey and Mantle." Him and Sam flipped their badges open for her to check. She chortled in disbelief and Dean beamed happily though Sam groaned. "We're from the FBI, looking into the murder of this Jane Doe you have. We think it's part of a series of murders running the seaboard line and is likely part of something bigger."

"Oh well." She ran a hand over the top of the file folders, staring at them all in an impressed way. "The captain is just finishing getting some paperwork done so she can be questioned. I must say, we don't get FBI out this way. Marshals and state troopers, yes. Enough that we built a whole new section to this station just for them mostly."

"Strange," Castiel muttered to himself. "It's a quiet place. Too quiet. Attracts the dark."

"Uh... who's he?" Rally nodded at him, a puzzled frown growing on her face. Dean and Sam both turned around to see a strange look on Castiel's face. He looked like he was trying to pinpoint something in the shadows around him.

"Uh. Agent in Training. Agent..." Dean struggled to remember the name he'd put on Castiel's ID. "Hollowman."

Sam gave him another look that said he was never in charge of giving them names again.

"Well, it is nice you are here. This suspect is a weird one to deal with." Her voice dropped a little. "Strange things have started happening in this station since she arrived. Snakes and bees and locusts."

"Weird. Good thing we're here to help," Dean offered.

"Right. Well, I'd escort you but..." She waved at the folders. "Just down the main corridor, and first hall to the left, past the restrooms. The first door on your left is the questioning room, second door is the observation. He should be in one of them."

She beamed up at Sam. "We don't often get anyone from the FBI here, so he'll be absolutely awed about four agents being here."

Dean and Sam looked at her, momentary panic setting in the minute they realized what she was saying. "Four?"

"Oh yes. Another agent arrived just this morning. I suppose you are working together and you just arrived late?" Rally asked.

"Something like that." Dean managed a casual shrug of his shoulders and then grabbed Sam by his elbow to drag him halfway down the corridor. Still confused, Castiel followed and looked over the walls. Whatever he was seeing had him fascinated and he missed the odd looks Rally still gave him. He smirked at something he saw and shook his head.

"Humans."

Dean dropped his voice and looked over his shoulder at the curious police officer still watching Castiel, "Another agent? Sam, we're going to be caught out."

Panic made him already looking for the nearest exist though his brother calmly steered him down the next hallway.

"Calm down, Dean. You just use your usual bullshit lines, smile and nod, and we should be fine," Sam said as he walked towards the observation room. Dean stopped and glared at him. "For all we know, this is just another rookie agent. Who else comes to this place?"

He painted another friendly smile on his face as he came to the open door and Dean grabbed the distracted Castiel by a handful of his coat to get him out of the way. The angel narrowly dodged a few officers escorting a man who reeked of too much whiskey down the hall. He began struggling wildly, eyes darting in frantic circles and his mouth slackened when he caught sight of the man in the overcoat. He stared at Castiel, who stared back, and then screamed in pure fear even though the officers were pulling him into the overnight cells.

"THE END IS NIGH! THE ANGEL OF DEATH HAS ARRIVED!"

Dean resisted the urge to laugh at Castiel's dismayed expression as the big metal door was locked behind the officers.

"I would be insulted if that wasn't highly inaccurate," Castiel said to Dean when he finally looked at him. "By all technicality, the angel of death was a role filled by many in the Host. Michael and Gabriel even served at one time. I wouldn't be even considered for that position."

"Yeah? Well, we'll stop in his cell later and you can correct him, okay?" Dean muttered back before he joined Sam at the door. A barrel chested man who looked like he could break any of them in two without blinking an eye was shaking Sam's hand, his rough face broken apart by the cheery smile.

"Pleasure to meet more federal agents. I swear, I've not see this much interest in our little town in all my twenty years here. Captain Morrison."

"Agents Mickey and Mantle." Dean reached out slowly and tried not to wince when his fingers were nearly crushed by that meaty hand. "And this is agent Hollowman."

Castiel only hesitated for a moment before he shook Morrison's hand. The captain blinked in surprise down at him. "Strong grip on you, son. Might be one of the strongest I've felt today."

"We're here to look into the murder suspect Flo Pestle. We think she could know something about murders going in pattern. Which is why we were sent," Sam explained, trying to keep it impersonal in case they had to make a run for it.

"You think she's serial?"

"Something like that."

"That means she kills with pattern and method," Dean muttered to Castiel and the angel glared at him.

"I know what serial means, Dean. I'm not a child."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Touchy."

"Well, that makes sense. One of your fellow agents is already in here, just going over some case notes. She said she was surprised other agents weren't here yet to look into this. Come on in and you can let me know what we can help with," Morrison offered and he waved them in.

Once they were all in the small room, they saw the massive two-way mirror and the tiny woman standing in front of it with her back to them. Neatly uniformed in tight skirt and jacket, she was rocking back and forth on her impossibly high pumps as she read a file, her long fingers toying with a curl that had escaped her coifed hair. Dean made a none-too subtle check of her curves and Sam gave on stopping him when he saw Morrison looking as well.

The older man went red when he saw that Sam had caught him staring at her ass. He cleared his throat noisily. "Agent Nash? Your co-workers have arrived."

When Sam looked at Castiel, he saw that the angel was staring at the woman but not like Dean or Morrison were. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw was tight, and for a second Sam could have sworn he saw Castiel's eyes actually flicker. He didn't look his usual calm self; he almost looked like he was ready to pounce.

The woman turned around slowly, still looking at the folder as she walked forward and around the table. When she finally closed the file with a snap and looked up, Dean and Sam both backed up, barely managing to keep their surprise hidden. Castiel's expression didn't waver though there was something tugging at the corner of his lips. It was as if he was trying not to smile at everyone's reaction to her.

Dressed in strict business attire, with her hair pulled back in a tight clip and fake glasses perched on her nose, Meg was almost unrecognizable though the sly smirk was definitely hers and the Winchesters gaped. She was so neatly pressed and packaged that for a second, Sam was actually convinced she might be an FBI twin of the regular Meg's meatsuit. There weren't even the faint signs of a demon's soul behind her eyes to give her away, no smells and nothing to make her seem like anything more than a common human woman.

She looked them all over carefully and the smirk widened into a fake sunny smile.

"Hello, Agents. I've been waiting for you." Her eyes darted to Castiel who stared back, his head tilting a little to take in the change in her. Their eyes locked for an intense moment before she looked at the captain. "Morrison, would you awfully mind getting us a pot of coffee and we'll go over the case?"

The syrupy sweetness in her voice had the big man stammering and nodding and Meg gave him an almost simpering smile back. She held it until the door closed behind him and the moment the handle clicked her face lost all expression. Her eyes clicked to black immediately when she looked at Castiel again.

"Hey boys. How's tricks?"

"Meg. What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked, recovering from his surprise and Meg looked at him from brown eyes again to try to distract him.

"Don't look so upset, Dean-o. I just did you a favour. If I'd been an actual agent, I'd be getting you arrested for impersonating a government official." She sneered when she looked him up and down. "You look like one of those Bible salesmen that sleeps with lonely housewives to try to get a book deal."

He glared back, momentarily distracted by the insult. "It's a good suit. And you look like Agent Scully if she was more of a midget and even more a bitch."

Meg rolled her eyes at the short joke.

"I'm quite certain her fake name is Nash," Castiel offered, still staring at her.

"Yes, thank you, Cas." Dean waved his hand. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't just have Castiel exorcise your ass right now."

"I can give you a few," Meg offered. She ignored Sam's attempt to stop her and started ticking off the reasons on her fingers. "One: It's not easy as you think. I'm bound to this body since I got out of Hell. Two: He owes me after all this time because I had to help myself out of that sticky situation. Three: You couldn't stop staring at my ass and you need me in here to wiggle it."

She walked up to Castiel, getting between him and Dean. The angel looked her over and she ran a hand up his stomach in a dangerous, slow caress. "And four? He really doesn't want to."

Sam blinked and looked at Castiel but the angel managed to look perfectly ignorant about what Meg was implying though he didn't look away from her.

"So why are you here then?" he asked before Dean could get a word in, hoping he could be the voice of reason.

She grinned and turned towards him. "That's better. I do better without death threats from other girls. I'm here for Flo Pestle."

"The witch? Why?"

"I heard the little turncoat knows where Crowley is holing up outside of Hell. So I set her up to get caught so I could have a crack at her in close quarters, without risking my own neck in one of her traps."

"You killed the other witch," Castiel finally said. She shrugged and leaned back against the metal table, crossing her ankles and jutting her hip out.

"That little brat tried to exorcise me on the spot before I could even offer to help her get out of her deal with this Pestle witch." Meg's eyes narrowed. "I don't like rude people that much."

"Pot calling the kettle black," Sam pointed out.

"Sticks and stones, boys. Why are you here?"

"She's got information on Crowley. We still need the tablet."

"Still chasing unicorns. Adorable." Meg handed Sam the file anyway. "But here's the thing: I got here first."

"There's three of us, Meg. One of you. One word..."

She laughed darkly at Dean's attempt at a threat. "Oh, Dean. Really. Unless you are good on seducing men, which, who knows, you might be, you'll have to work fast on Morrison. He's got a crush on me the size of an angel's."

This time both Sam and Dean looked at Castiel who looked everywhere but back at them.

"So. I need something. You need something. We call it a truce. Again."

"Why should we?" Dean asked, confused. "You think just because your skirt is too tight around your ass that we're all going to fall in line?"

"Yep." She stepped away from the table and approached him slowly. Dean's eyes widened at the deliberate seduction in the curve of her smile, licking his lips nervously the closer she came. At the last second and just before she touched him, she turned towards Castiel and leaned against him instead. Her voice lowered and her hand brushed his belt buckle. "Haven't seen you in a demon's age, cloudhopper."

"I've been... working."

"Good to know you weren't sitting on your ass while I was on the run from Crowley again," she drawled and he looked her in the eye. His voice lowered and he put his hand on hers.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

She turned around towards Sam and Dean, recovering nicely from her disappointment. "So. Do we have a deal so we can both get what we want? Or should I leave the salesman and the overgrown moose in too small of clothing to it?"

Both Winchesters glared at her and she looked over her shoulder at Castiel, an insult on her lips. He fidgeted nervously, readying himself, but then she shrugged and looked away.

"That's not fair. There is no way Castiel doesn't get an insult," Dean snapped.

"Fine. He looks like Columbo when he does his taxes. Happy now?" Meg asked. "Can we get on with it?"

"Just wait a second there. Cas, watch her." Dean grabbed Sam's elbow again and pulled him out into the hallway. The door was left open and both demon and angel could see them arguing in low voices and angry gestures. Castiel sighed and finally put his hand on Meg's shoulder, thumb touching her neck.

"I had felt you come back."

"That's sweet but I don't have time for your guilt and sentimentality, Castiel. I want Crowley dead." She turned around and stared up at him. Something in her expression warned him that if he tried to apologize again she might bury a knife in his ribs. Knowing her, she probably was still holding onto an angel sword somewhere; he wasn't sure how she was keeping it hidden though, her clothes were so tight.

Meg dropped her eyes and made a face when she saw his clothes. "Who is taking care of you? You can't pass for an agent at all."

He glanced down at his clothes. "But these are familiar and..." Castiel squinted at her. "You look different. Very... different."

"You don't like it? What? Not enough like a nun for you?" she asked sarcastically.

"You look very much like the woman in the one program Dean had me watch when I was curious."

"Yeah, Scully from X-Files. I got the gist, feathers. Alien abductions and monsters and short redheads."

"No... as I recall there was little to do with alien abduction. Mostly some form of probing and the woman was not a natural red-head at all."

Meg blinked and caught on quickly. "Dean had you watch the porn version?"

Castiel shrugged and looked at her. "I was bored."

Not able to think of a response, instead Meg rolled her eyes and quickly stepped into him. He bumped back into the table and froze when her hands went to his throat. She ignored the confusion on his face and started to fix his clothes with almost obsessive detail, muttering that he needed to be taken care of like a barely housebroken poodle. She straightened his coat around his chest so the panels were perfectly aligned, flipped his suit jacket collar down, and brushed off the specks of dust on his shoulders before she finally reached up and undid his tie. Sticking her tongue to the corner of her mouth, Meg began to re-knot it, her slim fingers moving fast.

Castiel almost stopped breathing as he watched her up close, knowing she was too focussed to notice he was staring. She was wearing a heady perfume that masked any natural smell and she actually did blend well with the humans around them. Tiny things gave her away, he realized the longer he watched her: the scar tissue at the edge of her throat, the amulet necklace she wore, the few hairs that had escaped her clip starting to curl around her ears, the too smooth of way she moved, and the way the glasses were perched a little too low to be useful. Even now her fixation with correcting his appearance was not normal for an uninterested human, he was sure.

Meg tugged on the end of the tie to tighten it and looked up at him before her fingers met the ridge of his collar. Castiel stared back and after a moment she licked her lips, fingers drifting over the silk edges.

"Okay, here's the plan." Dean's voice made her roll her eyes and let Castiel go. "We interrogate, you watch."

"No chance. You guys will screw it up," she snapped and Castiel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, I'm not going in there with you and neither is Sam. We don't need any more amateurs in the ring," Dean said and she smirked.

"Baby, you clearly have not learned a thing about me."

"I know that you are usually one evil bi..."

"I'll go in with her," Castiel offered and they all turned to look at him. He shrugged. "I have no issues working with Meg."

Sam sighed. "No offence, Cas, but this isn't easy. You can't just pick up a book or watch a TV show and do this."

Dean pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and exhaled sharply.

"Look, Castiel has probably done some interrogation work in Heaven. Right?" She looked at the angel and he nodded. "And we all know I had to do a few in my day. Otherwise how else would we know that Dean can squeal like a little girl so nicely?"

The hunter glared at her.

"Plus, if this witch is good and likely ready for hunters, why is she going to be scared of two preppy FBI agents? We all know that the usual methods of being friendly and then pouring on the heat won't work. Even if you did manage to start to grill her, she's got enough juice left in her to make your lives a living hell in there."

Castiel nodded again. "It's true. I felt it when we came in. She's part of the reason why this town is in just chaos."

"I just don't think this will work," Sam tried again.

"I think, after this lovely pep talk, we'll be just fine." Meg shoved Dean out of her way. "Come on, Clarence."

A bit bewildered, he followed her out into the hall and Meg barked an order that had the cops jumping to get the witch. She even grabbed a bottle of water from one of the men running to do what she said. Dean and Sam both leaned out the door to watch her.

"Man... she's got the bitch cop thing down well," Dean admitted and Sam shrugged.

"You think this is a good idea?"

"What's the worse that can happen? I hate to admit it but Meg had a point. We're just lucky this Pestle witch has been contained long enough if she's this strong."

Sam looked at him. "And if she kills the witch or Castiel freaks her out?"

Dean made a face. "Fair enough. What the hell is she doing?"

"I wasn't kidding about the Columbo thing," Meg was grumbling to Castiel as she wetted her hands. She shoved the bottle at him to hold, ignoring the look he gave her, and she reached up. "Goddamn, I hate this preppy look."

She ruffled his hair hard, ignoring his confused attempts to pull away. Dean tilted his head and wondered what she was doing. But the demon ignored them and finally pulled her fingers free of Castiel's dark hair.

"There."

He looked up at the ceiling as if to check what she'd done, not understanding why she liked his hair in such a messy state. "The point of that was?"

She gave him a devilish grin. "I need eye candy to look at. Come on."

Flo Pestle was young, barely out of her early twenties, and dressed in stereotypical black and lace. But she radiated dark magic like an aura, likely from Crowley's influence, and arrogantly she didn't think she was in any real danger. Chaos followed her every step and she knew it.

But borrowed power wasn't an easy to control power, and both the angel and demon staring at her knew it.

Meg eyed her up and down as she came in the room and was sat down by a shaky looking officer. The thin man looked at Meg and Castiel nervously and she smiled sweetly at him.

"We won't need the cuffs, thank you."

On the other side of the glass, Dean shot Sam a look. "What is she doing?"

"Not needing the cuffs apparently." He reached out and patted Dean's shoulder. "Easy. If Castiel can't handle a witch then... we have bigger problems."

Once the guard was out, Meg and the witch locked eyes. "You're accused of murder."

"I am? Now why would that be?" the other woman asked and Castiel frowned.

"Because you killed people."

Meg rolled her eyes and looked at him. Flo gave him a gaping look and waved her hands at him. "Is he for real?" Her eyes went over Castiel quickly and she seemed to like what she saw.

He stared back and Meg clicked her tongue before answering, "He's heaven sent."

"Well, FBI must be getting bored if they are interested in this place."

"It's become a nexus of evil," Castiel said. "That is interesting."

Meg smirked at the witch's confusion over Castiel's over-precise words but the woman recovered fast. "I'm not about to stay here. I'll be out by dinner."

"You really think that that is going to happen?" Meg asked and she folded her hands on the table. Castiel mimicked her movement to try to look personable. This was familiar to him; Sam had been schooling him in body language and prisoners. "Come on, Flo. You have information and we need it. Maybe we won't let the cops lock you away."

"Yeah?" Flo leaned across the table towards them and her eyes seemed to spark with glowing red light. "I think you're going to let me go and what's even better? You're going to kill yourselves so it can happen."

She started to speak fast in a low, guttural voice, the lights in the room flickering and the two-sided glass vibrating. Castiel glanced at Meg to see if she was being affected. But there was little change in the demon; she merely took the fake glasses off and sighed, staring at her nails. The flickering intensified into a strobe effect and the witch's voice sped up, trying to force power into the spell since it wasn't working on them. Not sure why Meg was hesitating, he readied himself to stop the witch's attempt at a spell.

"That's enough," Meg said and she lifted her head. Her eyes were black, her lips pulled back from her teeth in a ghastly parody of a grin. Snapping her fingers, she spoke lowly and the room quickly went back to normal, power almost being sucked out of the witch. "Man, they did not train you that well if I can drain you that easy."

The witch flew out of her chair and backed up against the wall to get away from her. "Demon!"

"Oh right, keep saying that and they will think you're crazy. Demons don't exist, remember?" Meg asked and she looked at Castiel. "Mind doing something to the cameras, Clarence?"

He turned to look up at the security cameras, where the light was still blinking. Shrugging, he sent out a wave of energy to distort it into white noise.

When he turned around, the witch was sitting once again and Meg was starting to walk around behind her. The woman looked petrified and every click of Meg's heels on the concrete made her shudder. Fascinated, Castiel watched Meg and she waved a hand at him to start asking questions.

"You know where Crowley is," he started hesitantly. "We want his location."

"You're a demon too? What is with the demons turning on the King of Hell?" Flo asked.

Castiel decided not to correct her. "We need his location to retrieve something he stole."

"Yeah, so?"

Meg was looking at her nails again. "So tell us where he is."

"He'll kill me!" Flo snapped.

"Oh and what do you think we'll do to you?"

Castiel flicked his eyes up to Meg. "Would killing her be necessary?"

"Nope." Meg grabbed a hunk of Flo's hair and yanked her head back so hard that she shrieked in pain. "It would just really make me feel better."

She slammed Flo's head forward onto the table so hard there was a crack and Castiel jumped at the sound. But the demon was walking away again, a restless pacing that reminded him of a caged cat. The witch moaned in pain and put a hand to her head.

"Meg. Please."

She grinned and winked at him.

The witch looked up at him, a cut on her forehead dripping blood into her eyes. Shaking his head, he reached across and healed it for her with just a brush of his fingers. The moment his light touched her skin the witch jumped back in her seat, eyes wide in understanding. Meg clamped her hands down on her shoulders to hold her still.

"An angel?"

"Mmhmm." Meg leaned down and her lips brushed Flo's ear. "You think I'm bad, you should see what he can do."

Flo swallowed nervously, eyes staring at Castiel.

"So. Where's Crowley, hmm?" Meg's fingers began to press into her shoulders and this time the change in the atmosphere was Meg's power warping the shadows. Castiel sighed and looked over at the glass window. He could just imagine Dean's unhappy scowl and when he looked back, the witch's nose was starting to bleed.

"He's got... a hideout. Near Flint in one of the old factories. I've had to report there before."

Meg looked at Castiel. "She's telling the truth?"

He looked at her closely and shook his head sadly. "No."

"Shame." Meg's fingers tightened on the narrow shoulders and immediately the human's thin body twitched, Flo's mouth opening to release a bubble of blood. She moaned at the pain. "Because I could really do this all day."

Flo struggled weakly against her hold.

"I've spent a lot of time in Hell. On the rack and off the rack. Maybe you'd love a preview of what's going to happen to you?" the demon murmured in her ear. The pressure on the witch's insides increased and Castiel could see that her heart was being constricted at the same time her ribs started to press outwards against her skin.

"Stop, please stop," the witch begged and Meg let her go. Castiel reached out and touched the clenched fingers on the table.

"Tell us."

Her eyes connected with his. "Bayonne, New Jersey. He was having all of us there to experiment in an old building. I don't remember which. We'd bring monsters to him if we could, old artefacts, anything that is considered holy or angelic. Whatever he is doing... it's something he needs a lot of magic for."

"She's telling the truth," Castiel said and he looked at Meg. The demon stared back at him,looking ready to say something but she shrugged it off. Castiel looked back at the witch and she flinched at the coldness of his gaze. "I'm sorry for this."

Reaching out, his fingers brushed her forehead and she gasped as a flash of light went over her face. Meg shielded her eyes from the sight and Castiel filtered the power so it didn't harm her. When his hand dropped, the witch was staring at them both dumbly.

"Who are you? Are you the FBI they said was investigating?"

Meg recovered from her surprise quickly. "Not exactly. You must still be in shock, as we've been discussing that this isn't a case for the FBI. Sorry for the inconvenience. Come on, handsome."

Castiel quickly followed Meg to the door as Flo stared at them curiously.

"Weird."

Meg bit back the urge to chuckle as she opened the door and came face to face with Dean and Sam who were waiting impatiently. She sauntered out with a smug smile and a twitch to her hips. Dean and Sam both stared, a bit aghast but having to admit it worked judging by the way Dean kept trying to think of something to say. The door swinging shut behind him, Castiel came out of the room and dusted his hands off on his coat as if to remove the feel of the witch's skin.

"That went better than I thought," he said when he stopped in front of the two men in the hall.

"What did you do to her?"

"Just erased that part of her memory where Meg and I came in... and her ability to continue to cast spells. I figured it was necessary. Once Crowley finds out she is useless to him...it was for the best."

Dean nodded and looked at Meg, who was looking around in an absent way. She seemed restless again. Her head tilted as she looked at Castiel and the angel stared back, suddenly fidgeting at something he saw in her eyes.

Dean ignored the movement to try to be grudgingly appreciative. "Not bad. You got what you needed, we get what we need, so we can all just..."

Meg's eyes snapped to him and she tilted her head a little. "You know what, Winchester? Hold that thought. Be right back."

With a wicked grin, she grabbed Castiel by his tie and led him down the hall. She barely had to tug on it except for when they came to the ladies' room. The angel stalled a little, confused and startled, and looked over his shoulder at the Winchesters. Dean raised his hand to stop Meg and then swiped at the back of his neck, equally confused by what she was doing. Castiel paused just outside the door, Meg having disappeared though the tie was held taut between her hand and Castiel's neck.

Then, with trip of feet, he went flying through the door and it slammed shut behind him. Dean and Sam hesitantly approached it, not sure what was going on, and Dean leaned in to listen.

He leapt back when there was another slam and the door itself vibrated on the hinges.

Clearing his throat, he glanced at Sam.

"We should save him."

Sam listened as well and went a bit red at what he heard. "Doesn't sound like he wants to be saved."

Ten minutes later, while they sat on the bench, Castiel finally staggered out of the restroom. He gave the ceiling a dazed look and took a few weak unsteady steps, trying to find his balance. Licking his lips nervously, he finally noticed them sitting nearby and he shook his head to try to clear it. He stumbled towards them in an odd shuffling way and Dean's eyebrows rose as he took in the angel's state. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen the angel look so out of sorts. His dark hair stood up on all ends, his coat was pulled to the right halfway off, his tie was nearly undone, and his normally pristine white shirt was wrinkled and unbuttoned halfway down his chest.

He seemed genuinely confused to be in the hall with them.

"Cas?" Sam stood up and put his hand on Castiel's shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yes," Castiel had to clear his throat, "I believe I am."

Dean blinked as he stood at his other side. "Is that lipstick on your collar?"

Castiel checked before giving Dean a dazed frown. "Yes, I believe it is."

"Do I want to know?" Dean sighed and Castiel hummed a negative.

"Meg said she wanted to introduce me to a different type of interrogation," he explained and he looked at his clothing. His shirt was un-tucked and he was sure he was missing some buttons as he started to do them up again. "But I believe I will need more practice before I use that method."

The door opened again and Meg came out, relatively kept together except for her smeared lipstick and wrinkled clothes. "Been waiting long?"

"Did you just... seduce Castiel in the restroom?" Dean demanded, pointing at them both, and she gave him an innocent look.

"Seduce implies that he didn't want to participate in the first place. Who do you think put who against the door?" she asked and she smoothed her skirt down. It was badly wrinkled and she tried to fix the long runs in her stockings. Both men looked over at Castiel who looked remarkably pleased with himself.

"It seemed like an appropriate thing to do at the moment," he said pleasantly.

"Oh this day is just getting stranger and stranger," Sam said, covering his mouth and rolling his eyes. Unable to think of something clever to quip back, Dean only shook his head and left them in the hall, eventually followed by Sam. Castiel gave them a puzzled look and then looked over at Meg.

"If that was a method of interrogation for you and you say it is effective," he started and he pointed at the Winchesters as he and Meg started down the hall. "Why don't Sam and Dean use that method?"

"Oh..." She tilted her head and looked up at him with a grin. He was trying to fix his tie again. "Well, the thing is, they wouldn't. That is how you and I get play interrogation together."

Castiel looked down at her and she reached out to touch the red lipstick mark on his collar.

She dropped her voice and gave him a wink "If we're lucky,I'll show you how to do it again."

Not sure how to respond to that, Castiel simply finished fixing his tie