Alright... so this is set sometime during Season 6... it IS slightly AU (since I haven't actually watched more than 6 episodes of S6 as of yet), but hopefully the OOC-ness is not too bad!

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Disclaimer: I still don't own Supernatural... unfortunately. This is purely a fan-fic tribute to an awesome series.

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Having Tea with the Devil

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Castiel was sure that at this point his vessel was surely rejecting him. The fact that the little contents of his stomach –the lone remnants of the packet of Twizzlers Dean had given him to taste yesterday- decided to eject itself on the sidewalk was proof enough.

The angel shuddered and coughed painfully. He shivered and spat the remaining acid taste out of his mouth. 'And humans insist on drinking until they achieve this state?' he wondered ruefully.

He straightened up, but the twinge in his stomach made him double over again with a grunt. The only time he's ever felt this type of pain was when he was evicted from Jimmy Novak's body over a year ago. That was the only other time he's ever felt anything like this.

Even his vessel 's clothes felt too hot, too heavy from him. But he also felt as if he was freezing on the inside.

"Well you look a picture of health," an irritatingly familiar voice came from behind him. The same detestable being's hand came to rest on his back. "Decided to finally commit suicide? Interesting choice... I always thought you were more of a fight-to-the-death type... "

"What are you doing here?" Castiel growled, forcing himself to stand up straight, glaring dangerously.

"Is that any way to greet the person who's your deliverance from pain?" Crowley asked smoothly, stepping back and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Castiel's eyes narrowed, but suppressed the cough tugging at his throat, "You are not my "deliverance". But... I do not wish to fight you at the moment, please leave." he snapped, suppressing his shiver.

"Oh really? Why leave when it would be soooo easy to kill you right here?" Crowley grinned, appearing right in front of the angel, grabbing him by the neck, "Right now?"

It wasn't even a tight grip and both of them knew that, but nonetheless, Castiel ended up squirming uncomfortably at the increased pressure on his –already painfully sensitive- neck. He grabbed Crowley's wrist, tugging uselessly at the demon's wrist. He tried to swallow carefully, but his throat was so dry and scratchy, it only had the cough working up his throat again.

The demon let up his grip and lightly clapped the angel on his back, "Take it easy, I didn't come here to kill you..." he said and rubbed small circles on the man's back, trying to ignore the fact that Castiel was presently trying to fry him with his Holy Aura alone... not that it was working, but it still had Crowley's hand erupting in pins-and-needles.

"What do you have t-to gain from this?" Castiel asked wisely, glaring up at the –still smirking- demon.

"Truthfully?"

"Demons always lie."

"Fine, then, I'm here to kill you," Crowley said sarcastically and shook his head after a moment, "Tell me, what do I have to gain by you dying?"

"I am an obstacle in your way... preventing you of taking all the power of the underworld..." Castiel commented, trying to clear his throat as softly as possible.

"True... but I still need you to take care of Raphael... not to mention keep an eye on the Winchester brothers..." Crowley mused for a moment, shaking his head with a disapproving scowl on his face.

Castiel looked up, his stance still guarded, but he nodded with understanding, "Yes, I know."

"Hold on," Crowley muttered, clasping a hand over Castiel's shoulder and transporting them to Crowley's personal home.

The apparition side-effects had Castiel nauseous again. Demon teleportation was never something anyone got used to. It felt like his soul was on fire. The tugging on his stomach had him coughing again, and Crowley managed to move a trashcan in front of him just in time.

"Seems like hanging around meat-suits too long have shot down your Holy Grace-infused immune booster... " Crowley placated smugly, patting the man on his back again, "What a shame..."

Castiel growled, running his hand down his face, exhausted.

"As long as we're here, you might as well make your self comfortable... " Crowley said, frowning for a second when he saw Castiel's unhappy face before turning to head out of the study, "Or... at least... as comfortable as possible..."

The angel watched Crowley disappear around the corner, out of the room, before looking around. He blinked and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. The room itself almost looked ... normal. Plush-looking black leather chairs in front of a cherry-wood desk. Books lining the walls, some framed scrolls of text hanging on the walls. A relatively enclosed space, but the ceiling made it feel much more roomy. The fireplace in the corner, next to the three-seater couch kept the room at a warm, comfortable temperature. It actually felt cosy. And, considering the only time Castiel ever felt cosy was in Heaven... the feeling took him by surprise.

He slowly shuffled towards the single-seater close to the desk, sitting down awkwardly on the chair. He desperately wanted to sit close to the fireplace, but if he did that, he'd have a hard time seeing who came in through the door... and he was still VERY aware of the fact that he was in CROWLEY's den... not someplace where he could call safe. He sniffed, trying his best to refrain from wiping his nose off on the sleeve of his trench-coat, trying to remain as stoic and non-chalant as ever.

"Cas?" Crowley asked suddenly reappearing in the study, carrying a tray of what seems to be tea and some medicine. "What in the hell are you doing?"

"I... am sitting?" Castiel answered unsurely, shivering momentarily, tugging his coat tighter around him.

"Are you going to sleep sitting upright then?" Crowley growled irritably, motioning to the three-seater behind him.

"I do not require sleep," Castiel informed softly, his voice still raspy, but obediently –and gratefully- standing up and making his way over to the three-seater couch regardless.

"Well angels don't get sick either, do they?" Crowley countered smartly, "Surprise, Surprise..."

Sitting down on the three-seater with a huff, "My vessel just seems to be rej-" he suddenly sneezed, causing the lights to flicker in the room.

Crowley rolled his eyes, holding out the tray to the angel sitting on the couch, "Take that," he jerked his head to the cup of tea resting on the saucer on the tray, "Some tea should help."

"Did you... " Castiel stared at the contents of the tray numbly, trying to find the right word. "Are all of these items... for me?"

"Shut up and drink the damned tea," Crowley snapped, holding the tray in one hand and abruptly snapped the fingers of his free hand.

When nothing significant happened, Castiel looked around unsurely, the teacup now held securely between his hands, "What did you just do?", he asked, although, even by his tone alone both of them could tell that the angel wasn't truly interested in the answer... not when the careful sip of the tea he just took was as heavenly as he had prayed for. He was surprised that it actually was just warm enough to relieve the growing pain in his throat without burning him. It was sweet and had a slight scent of cinnamon to it. It was frighteningly comforting.

"Your little 'present' over there?" Crowley said with his disgust only partially hidden, pointing to the trashcan, "It's contents now resides in the backseat of the Winchester Chevy..."

"What...?"

"I said: You seem to have flu... I could either heal you..." Crowley extended his fingers towards Castiel's forehead, only to have Castiel grab his hand instinctively, "OR! I can just give you human medication... it should work... I think..."

Castiel rubbed his forehead with a groan. He set the teacup down on the saucer and looked at the packet of medication in Crowley's hand wearily, "I do not trust you..." he said, taking two of the flu-meds capsules Crowley held out to him.

"I don't need you to trust me... I'm just doing this for my own advantage... " the demon said, he shrugged as he handed Castiel a glass of water. "... Just one thing, if I AM going to make sure you don't die in the next few days, at least turn off your 'smiting-aura' while you're around me..."

A tilt of Castiel's head had Crowley showing him his hand. The demon's hand was pinkish and seemed to be burnt slightly. Apparently, even physical contact with angel alone can cause demons harm.

Castiel didn't answer him, but Crowley suddenly stopped feeling the 'force-field of Holy' surrounding the angel. A surprised and slightly annoyed look from the angel met Crowley's devilish smirk.

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Thanks for reading!

Please let me know what you think! It's always great to receive a review, even if it's just a simple 'Good story' or such... It always inspires me and gets me back to writing much quicker!

I'm not sure yet if I'm going to turn this into a series or keep it as a one-shot.. I'll see how it goes with reviews and fave's... :)