Dale was the first through the door of diner, so she was the first to spot the FBI agents sitting in a corner booth. She spun around. "Right, changed my mind, not hungry, let's just go back to the motel."

"Well, I am hungry so we're staying," Dean said as he shoved past her. He stopped and stared at the booth. "Why do I feel as if Chuck is punishing us?"

Dale snorted. "As if he cares what we do."

Sam pushed past the two of them. "Trust me, he's more interested than we'd like. Let's just eat. Can you manage that without trying to murder them, Dean?"

"Can't guarantee it," his brother answered cheerfully.

They sat at a table on the opposite side of the restaurant from the two FBI agents.

Dale fiddled with the menu, she couldn't decide between a bacon double cheeseburger or a BBQ bacon double cheeseburger. These were life's tough choices.

The server came over to the table. He grinned at them. "All righty then, I'm Kyle and I'll be your server today, everyone ready to order?"

Dean tossed his menu on the table. "Bacon cheeseburger, fries."

"All righty." He looked at Dale. "And for you, precious."

She scowled. "Let's start with you not calling me precious and move on to a BBQ bacon double cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake."

"All righty, and you?"

Wyatt looked up. "Oh, um ... chicken Caesar wrap and coleslaw please, oh and a glass of water."

"Okay, and you?"

"Salad, dressing on the side and water for me too," Sam said as he handed over his menu.

"Righty, I'll be back with your drinks." The server walked away, humming.

"That guy was way too cheerful," Dale commented.

"Aren't they always?" Dean said.

They sat back, discussing the case, mulling over what they'd found. Several minutes passed before a woman and three men walked up to the table.

"You will come with us, Wyatt Mallory," the woman demanded.

A startled Wyatt looked up at her. "What?"

"You are the prophet Wyatt Mallory and you will come with us," she repeated.

Wyatt glanced wildly around the table.

Dean held out a hand to Wyaat. "Calm down." He glanced at the woman. "He ain't going anywhere with you, sweetcheeks."

Sam stood. "Angels or Demons?"

The woman flicked her wrist and an angel blade appeared in her hand. "You will give us the prophet, Sam Winchester."

"Not likely, we found him first!" Dale shouted as she jumped up from her seat.

"I'm not a penny you picked up from the ground!" Wyatt protested.

"Of course not, I just ... never mind, we have something more important to worry about right now."

"Give us the prophet," the woman demanded again.

Across the restaurant Aramintha sank in her seat. "Great I'm not going to get to finish my sundae."

Noah's eyes were glued on the angels. "They want the prophet."

"Of course they do. I suppose we have to intervene?"

"It wouldn't be very nice of us to simply vanish."

With a groan, Mintha stood and crossed the diner, Noah trailing behind her. She stopped behind the group of angels.

"Excuse me, but they did tell you no, you should probably leave before your inevitable deaths."

They turned as a group. The woman looked her up and down. "Well, well, Aramintha, funny seeing you here."

"Yeah, yeah, howdy, how y'all doing, yes, I'm alive, blah, blah, blah ... okay, all the pleasantries are out of the way, let's move on. You leave or you die, pick one so I can get back to my sundae before the ice cream melts into a puddle."

"You have no right to interfere here," the angel told her.

Mintha sighed heavily. "Unfortunately, I must, my conscious ..." She pointed at Noah. "Won't let me ignore this." She glanced at the Winchesters. "I suggest you get out while you can."

Sam grabbed Wyatt and dragged him toward the door.

"Dale, go now!" Dean shouted.

"Hell no, aren't you coming?"

"Go!" he shouted and gave her shove toward the door.

"You should go too," Mintha told him. "This is going to end badly."

Dean stood. "I can handle it."

Mintha sighed and waved a hand at him. He vanished and she turned back to the angels. "Your decision, Harahel?"

In answer to the question, Harahel lunged at Aramintha, her angel blade ready to strike.

Mintha sighed. "You can't kill me with that." She waved a hand and flung the angel across the restaurant before looking at the others. "Anyone else?"

The others charged and she snapped her fingers, disintegrating the remaining angels before walking slowly to where Harahel lay on the floor and crouched beside her. "Leave the prophet alone, this is the only warning I'm going to give you."

Harahel groaned and rolled to her side. "Michael will find you."

"Michael is locked away in the cage, I think I'm good. Goodbye." She stood and turned away. "Noah." The two vanished just before Dean burst through the door, storming back into the diner.

"Son of a bitch!" he cursed. He didn't know who that woman was, but he was certain she was no FBI agent.

"Dean?"

"They're gone." He turned a circle and spotted the shadows that indicated the angels had been vaporized. "Seems as if they know a thing or two about pest control."

"You will all die," Harahel shouted before she vanished.

"I don't wanna die!" Wyatt wailed.

"Relax, kid, no one is gonna die. Let's get the hell out of here before the cops show up."

They drove back to the motel and crowded into the room.

"Now what?" Dale asked.

"We need to find those two and figure out what they are."

"The angels recognized the woman," Sam pointed out.

"Which makes me nervous as hell. Is she an angel or a demon, or something else entirely? Why do they know her?"

"Look, we don't have answers and we aren't going to find them sitting here," Dale told them.

Dean waved the ice bucket at her. "Go fetch some ice, we need to figure out our next move and I need a drink."

"We do remember what happened the last time I fetched ice, don't we?"

"Just go!"

With a grumble, she snatched the ice bucket and exited the room. She was half of the way to the ice machine when she spotted the female FBI agent coming back from the ice machine, her own ice bucket clutched in her hand, Dale watched as she entered a room three doors down from them. She spun and went back to the room.

"Dean!"

He held out a hand. "Ice."

"No ice! They're here!"

Dean jumped up. "The angels?"

"No, our FBI friends. They're staying in a room down the hall!"

Dean grinned. "Looks like we can grab ourselves a hostage and get some questions answered."

"Right and how exactly do we do that when we have no idea what we're dealing with?" Dale asked him.

"Sam, watch the room and wait until one of them leaves, let us know and we'll grab whoever is left."

"How do we grab whoever is left?" Sam asked.

"Very carefully. Let's get a plan together. Sammy, go watch the room."

"Going," he replied with a roll of his eyes.

***

"I've got the ice."

Noah held up his glass. "And we are out of alcohol. I'll run to the store and get more."

She grinned. "You drink too much."

"I barely drank enough to get a buzz. Hey, don't tell me you don't need a drink after running into Harahel?"

She set the ice bucket down. "Yeah, I do."

He stood with a grin. "And that means I need to go get some more."

"Noah, you don't have to. We don't really need it."

"What kind of a second in command would I be if I didn't make certain my commanding officer is relaxed and not stressed?"

"Go then." She waved him toward the door and he left with a grin.

Sam watched as the man left and sent Dean a quick text. A few minutes passed before Dean and Dale came down the corridor.

"You sure she's in there?"

"Didn't see her leave."

"Good, okay let's do this. Sammy, around back in case she tries to bolt."

"Be careful."

"Sure thing. Ready Dale?"

"Hell yes, let's do this!" She bounced back and forth from foot to foot.

"One, two, three ..." he counted and then kicked in the door.

Mintha was slow to react, she'd been deep in thought, going over the events at the diner. Dean was across the room and had slapped a pair of cuffs around her wrist before she realized it.

"Gotcha!"

She sighed. "Oh, dear, how horrible, I've been caught." Her voice was monotone.

Dean fastened the cuffs around her other wrist and yanked her to her feet, dragged her to the Impala and tossed her in the trunk. "All right, let's take her someplace we can interrogate her without drawing attention."

"There was an abandoned gas station down the street," Dale told him.

"Sounds good, let's go." He dialed Sam and told him to get to the car. "Dale, call Wyatt and tell him to stay put."

"Oh ... uh ..."

"Where are we going?" Wyatt asked as he ran up to the car.

"Sorry, I already texted him and told him to get out here, you really should give instructions before shit goes down."

"Whatever, let's go," Dean grumbled.

They climbed into the car and Dean took off for the station down the street several blocks.

"You know, that was really very rude of you," Aramintha said as she appeared in the backseat between Dale and Wyatt.

"Ahhh, we're gonna die!" Wyatt shouted, cringing back against the door..

"Relax, you are not going to die. He might," she said, pointing to Dean. "You honestly thought those rinky dink cuffs would hold me?"

"Well, I was hoping the demon trap in the trunk would," Dean replied. "But, you're obviously not a demon, which most likely means you're an angel."

She clapped very slowly. "Very good, smart boy wanna cookie?"

"Shut up and tell us who you are," Dean snapped.

"I'm an angel, I thought we just established that."

"Fine, you're an angel, why are you here?"

"Mmmm, because I like Earth and you humans are interesting."

"I doubt that."

"That you're interesting?" She grinned at him.

He growled in frustration.

Sam turned to look at her. "Why are you interested in the death of that angel?"

"I knew him and I want to know who killed him and why."

"Well we have that in common. We want to know who and why too. How about we work the case together?" Sam offered.

"Mmmm, how about not. My partner and I can handle it on our own. I suggest you stay out of it before you get yourselves and your prophet killed."

"I say we listen to her!" Wyatt called out. "I don't want to die!"

"No one is dying!" Dean snapped. "Look lady, we know what we're doing."

"Oh yes of course, because you are the wonderful wacky Winchesters so you must be perfect," she answered snidely.

"We ain't perfect but we know what we're doing. We clean up crap like this all the time."

"Yes, you do, usually after you make the mess in the first place. Remind me again who let Lucifer out of the cage?"

"Hey, that's not fair. We got played by the rest of your angelic buddies," Dean grumbled.

"Uh huh sure, whatever. Look, leave me alone and if you try and chain me again you'll regret it." She vanished without another word.

"That went well," Dale commented.

"Shut up." Dean hunched in his seat.

"At least we know for certain what she is now," Sam answered.

"Fat lot of good it does us." Dean turned the car around and headed back to the motel. "Let's pack and get back to the bunker. I don't see any reason to stick around here, we've found out everything we could."

"Not to mention I might die if we stay here!" Wyatt told him.

"You are not going to die!" Dean reiterated in an irritated voice.