She lost her mind when he kissed her. She didn't even know what was going on until his lush, soft lips were upon her lips. And it was blinding. No shapes, no colors, no words, just total annihilation of anything except those lips. He tasted like earth and air and fire, as if all the elements were drawn to him instantaneously upon their creation. He smelled like musty clothing and damp pavement and sweat. For a brief moment, she swore she could hear his voice in her head, a contented sigh as the space between their bodies lessened.

And before Meg Masters could process anything else, her angel was gone. Gently she pressed her fingers to her pink lips, praying the feeling would never go away, knowing that prayers would do her no good anyway.

Castiel had no idea what had overcome him. An angel of the Lord, making sexual advances towards a demon. A demon! Though he shook his head wistfully as he thought about how she was a very lovely demon. A demon who had sat beside him when he was utterly alone, trapped in his earthly vessel, taking responsibility of Sam's brief but painful insanity. It was, after all, his fault that Sam had lost his marbles; he had - what would Meg say? - "broken Sam's noodle". But Meg had stuck around while Cas was rendered useless. No doubt it benefited her as well, a small bit of protection from Crowley in the asylum.

Yet Cas wasn't bothered by her ulterior motives. He had surprisingly enjoyed her company, although he didn't understand many of her references. She was charming and endearing.

"For a demon, that is" Cas reminded himself out loud.

He found himself sitting on a park bench somewhere in northern Oregon. In his frenzy of kissing Meg and retreating, he had simply placed himself as far away from temptation as possible. Apparently that was Oregon... Well, he liked it here. The trees and foliage always made him feel at home.

"A little slice of heaven" he chuckled bleakly.

Ah Heaven. Imagine what the Holy Hosts would be saying if they knew about his little tryst with Meg! Just the thought made Cas pull his ragged trench coat tighter around his lean frame. He was becoming increasingly paranoid over this demon. No, he was becoming paranoid over the feelings he seemed to be developing for this demon. He wasn't even sure how he had discovered 'feelings' but he was certain he could blame the Winchesters for it. He had found a companion in Dean, and he sorely missed that now.

Ah well, he couldn't go back now. Meg might be expecting more. And how could he possibly give her more? An angel and a demon?! Ridiculous. Regardless of the fact that Meg had helped the Winchesters and Cas, regardless of the fact that she had consoled Cas in the asylum, regardless of the fact she had a voice that made Cas' vessle hard and wanton, regardless of her lighting quick wit, her strength, her bravery, her willingness to rebel against Crowley, her...

Cas threw his hands up in the air. This was useless. He couldn't even think about her redeeming qualities without giving himself a mental erection. And by the tightness of his pants, a physical erection too. Maybe it was her vessel. Maybe it was simply that. It wasn't her. No, it must be her vessel. That was what Cas was feeling affection for. Just the "meat suit" she was wearing.

Triumphant in his almost convincing revelation, he felt almost like waltzing back to her and proving his point.

Almost.