Fandoms: BtVS and Supernatural
Sequel to: aj_hofacre's Hunters
Warnings: Spoilers for Supernatural's season five.
Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or Supernatural.
Summary: There was an angel of the Lord in the Council's library.
A/N: The previous fics in this series are: aj_hofacre's Transfer, my fic The Prophet Chuck, and aj_hofacre's aj_hofacre's Hunters.
Buffy valiantly resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall. Almost every inch of space in the library was taken up by the younger Slayers. The Watchers were crammed in as well, fighting for a place close to the research table. The reason for all the fuss?
There was an angel of the Lord in the Council’s library.
Castiel had shown up two days after Sam and Dean. To Buffy he didn’t look like what she’d thought an angel should look like. He was tall, though shorter than Dean. He wore a beige trench coat, and a dark suit and tie over a white dress shirt. His hair seemed to defy earthly laws and he had eyes the same color as her favorite pair of blue jeans. He pointedly ignored the other slayers and Watchers, he’d been polite when he’d met her, and now he was talking animatedly with her baby sister. Apparently Dawn, aka the Key, had been a tool used by the Host before becoming a millennia old teenager. Dean was seated at the table closet to Castiel, his phone out, and a mile-long smirk on his face. Buffy was positive he was recording the entire thing.
“How have you managed with such inaccuracies?” Castiel asked. There was an ancient tome open between him and Dawn. Her sister was diligently taking notes.
“Huh?” Dawn asked, looking up from her latest notation.
“This passage is wrong,” Castiel said, pointing at the faded script.
Dawn leaned forward. “What’s wrong with it?”
“This passage says the Beast shall rise during the end of days,” Castiel said. Buffy stiffened slightly and edged her way closer. “But it is wrong. This Beast was the False Prophet. Gabriel killed it during the first war.”
Dawn’s eyes bugged out of her head. “Gabriel is real?”
Dean snorted and Sam rolled his eyes.
“He’s a douche bag,” Dean said, flipping his phone closed.
“And a Trickster,” Sam said after.
“How many angels do you guys know?” one of the braver slayers asked. Dean turned in his seat, noted who had spoken, winced, and then shot a glare his brother’s way before going back to messing with his phone. She could have sworn she heard Sam mutter something about super-powered jail bait.
“Too freakin’ many,” Dean grumbled.
“But you hang out with one,” another slayer asked.
“Cas is family,” Dean said. With his eyes still on his phone, he missed the way Castiel seemed to light up at his words -- but Buffy didn't, and a crooked half-smile appeared on her face. “The rest are dicks with wings.”
“Dean,” Castiel said his voice low and firm. Dean rolled his eyes at the look on Castiel’s face.
“Dude,” Dean said. “You know how they are.”
“I meant that you should watch your language around the younger slayers,” Castiel said sounding every bit the angel he didn’t look like. Then he smiled and ruined the effect. “Even if your words concerning the Host are true.”
Dean barked out a laugh. “Think we can sic one of these slayers on Zachariah?” Dean paused, eyes going distant. “Man I’d pay to see that asshole get trounced.”
“I’ll do it!” Becky’s voice rang throughout the library.
“We are not sending slayers out to battle angels,” Giles said, a scowl covering his face. Becky deflated slightly and Dean favored him with a raised eyebrow.
“You do know these jackasses want the world to end, right?”
“No, I don’t,” Giles said, drawing himself up to his full height. Buffy forced her way towards the table just as Sam and Dean stood eyes hard. The look on Dean’s face had her itching to get between him and her sister. She’d never seen a look that deadly, that cold on a human before. For the first time since she’d met him, she could easily believe this was a man who carried a bit of hell in his soul. “All I have are the words of a supposed prophet and a newly recruited slayer. For all I know, he isn’t even an angel. He looks like a tax accountant!”
“Oh, boy,” a smarmy voice rang out in the library. Buffy found it interesting how quickly Sam, Dean, and Castiel pulled weapons out and had them trained on the smirking guy sitting on top of one of the stacks. He was swinging his feet, and eating a Snickers. “You Watcher types really are just as stupid as I thought.”
“How the hell did you find us?” Dean growled out. If possible, the guy’s smirk got, well, smirkier.
“It wasn’t that hard,” the guy said. “I just followed him." He pointed at the suddenly pale-looking prophet.
Chuck looked around, eyes wide and looking a bit sick. “Oh. Crap. Guys, I…I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”
“Chuck,” Dean said, quieting the prophet. “It’s not your fault.”
“Gabriel, what are you doing here?” Sam asked and oh boy, he could be just as scary as his brother.
The smirk fell from Gabriel’s face and Buffy felt the air sing with power. She had a brief moment of shock as her brain latched onto the name.
“Not being a coward anymore.” Then he snapped his fingers, disappearing and leaving Giles wearing a light pink and purple tutu. A broadsword, with a big red bow and a card attached, appeared on the table directly in front of Dean.
Becky’s squeals filled the library a moment later. “I knew it! I knew he’d pick our side.” She jumped up and started fighting her way through the crowd. “My flist is going to be sooooo jealous!”