Title: Warriors of God

Fandoms: Supernatural/Joan of Arcadia

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, otherwise Joan wouldn't have been cut short

"Joan Girardi." Castiel jerked up off the park bench, voice relaying as much distress as a monotone could. "I was not informed you were here. We will go. I would never interfere…" Castiel looked to Dean, eyes slightly wider than normal. Which for him, Dean figured, constituted a blind panic.

Dean snorted. "Dude, what the hell's wrong with you?" Damn was the angel seriously flustered by this chick. Castiel glared at him, looking like he would hit him in the back of the head, if, you know, angels did that. It's possible Dean was projecting.

"You of all people should know not to use such language," he reprimanded Dean, like a stiff, proper parent trying to make a good impression but whose kid had discovered the joy of a new bad word and was delighting in telling The Reverend Father during the church picnic.

"Please, 'hell' is, like, no big deal," the chick said with a roll of her eyes.

Dean's eyes got a shuttered look. "You haven't been there," he said coldly. Probably not something he should have said to a complete stranger, but, hey, still a sore subject. The girl looked at him, wide eyed, initial eye-roll reaction turning thoughtful, sensing that there was more behind that statement than one might think. She'd had some experience, after all, with things being more than they appeared.

"Who are you, anyway?" she asked, turning to Castiel suspiciously.

"Your servant," he replied, sketching a little bow, stiff and jerky compared to his usual motions. Dean eyed him. Was Cas actually nervous?

"Hey! How come you're her servant but you boss me around and cause trouble? I thought you were supposed to listen to me!"

"She works for Our Father."

"So what, another angel?" Dean asked, confused as Joan looked at him in surprise. Angels popping up out of nowhere were starting to wear on his nerves.

"No. She is human, like you. A vessel," Castiel explained, eyes flickering to Joan, and away, anxious to leave, nervous in her presence. He looked like someone who'd suddenly found himself standing next to his celebrity idol in a line at the bank and wasn't quite sure how to handle it. Whether to stay and stammer and try not to puke on his shoes, or run away in embarrassment.

"A vessel?" Dean's eyes narrowed as he looked Joan over. In his experience being any sort of vessel was not good news.

"Shhhhh," Joan hissed looking around to make sure no one overheard. "I don't want to go back to the crazy farm if you don't mind."

"Uh, huh, sure. Wouldn't want that. Well then, since we're all on the same team here and you're crazy anyway. Castiel's the angel who tore me out of hell and keeps showing up with ominous and vague warnings to me and my brother that we better get cracking at stopping this whole Apocolypse, destruction of the world thing. While we try to stop him from butchering whole cities full of innocents for the 'greater good'." Dean couldn't wait to see what kind of a reaction that'd get from crazy girl.

"Oh. Well that explains why God wants me to invite the poster child for FBI's Most Wanted to dinner with me and my friends. Please," she said, hand held to stop him from saying anything, "no details. My dad's a cop so we'll just pretend I don't have a clue who you are and hope he never finds out." Joan continued, looking earnest.

"So, sounds like your schtick is a lot scarier than mine, I just have to embarrass myself in horribly creative ways." Her lip curled with an exasperated grimace.

"And seriously, angel?" She turned to Castiel who shifted slightly, a guilty twitch on anyone else. "Destroying cities? That is way Old Testament. You supposed to be God's hardliners or something? What happened to the miracle of the tree?"

"The tree?" Dean asked, utterly confused, eyebrows furrowed skeptically. Maybe she really did talk to God if she could take an angel to task, when he'd been trying to knock the 'Preserve Life, Life Good' concept into Castiel's head for as long as he'd known him. But, dude, a tree?

"Yeah." Joan snorted. "That was my reaction too. So you coming to dinner or what, cause I'm in charge of the garlic bread."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Dean shrugged. Hey, free food's free food. He followed the crazy chick as she rambled on about her friends, her brother Luke, and God's annoying habit of popping up unexpectedly to ask her to do things like try out for cheerleading and build a boat.

"Cheerleading, huh?" Dean leered at her as they walked away. Joan rolled her eyes.

"I didn't join!" She protested.

"Too bad," Dean said with a grin before quirking an eyebrow, "so this boat thing, did I miss an end of the world deal?"

Castiel's eyes followed them, still tense, trying not to twitch, as he watched them walk away. A little off the path they followed his eyes met those of a tall goth teen, lounging against a tree. The boy gave him a smile and nod before pushing off to leave in the opposite direction, giving Castiel a half wave over his shoulder in farewell.