When Dean finally blinked awake in the early morning, he woke up permeated with an amazing feeling of well-being. He stretched and a smile etched itself onto his face. Even as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he was grinning like an idiot.

He felt awesome. He had slept for eight hours without a single nightmare or anything. He didn't have any sort of hangover or headache, and best of all, Cas wasn't mad at him anymore! I did shots with an Archangel, now that's just awesome!

Emerald eyes darted around his room, and his smile faltered a bit. The other bed next to him was empty and undisturbed. He was alone in the room, and he felt strangely vulnerable because of it. Sam was almost always by his side, and normally when he wasn't it was because he was in trouble or they had a huge fight of some sort.

With Sam spending more and more time with Gabriel, Dean was starting to feel his abandonment issues raising its ugly head in his brain.

"Oh, no, today is going to be a good day," he sternly told himself. He got up, stretched again, and proceeded to wake up with a few minutes of push-ups and sit-ups. He felt energized and ready for the day. He decided to indulge in a nice hot shower since Sam wasn't there.

The hot water normally felt good against aching muscles, but Dean didn't have any this morning. He watched the soap run down his arms and legs and reveled in the fact that he was sore and achy, per usual.

Cas must've mojoed me last night, he realized. That's why I feel so swell. Normally he'd give any angel a piece of his mind about mojoing him for any reason besides "You were dead or dying," but he decided that, to wake up like this, it would be okay to let this one time slide.

When he remembered Cas staring at him from just a few inches away and his drunk observation, he barked out an uncomfortable laugh. "Well, at least he wasn't reading my mind right then, that might've lead to some awkward shit later on," Dean said to himself.

Cas had been just a few inches away. His hair was messy, his lips drawn in the usual line of stoic inexpression, and those eyes….

Dean's dick gave an interested twitch.

Dean looked down at his penis with a look of horrified betrayal on his face.

"Oh no," he said in a warning tone. "Just because I woke up without a hangover doesn't mean you're allowed to start thinking stupid things!"

When he actively thought about Castiel in all his nerdy angelic glory and his dick didn't move, he decided the stern warning had done its job.

But, it was easy to understand why his dick had gotten confused. A Happy Dean usually meant a happy dick (or vice versa) and Dean was in a pretty good mood. Also, he hadn't gotten laid in a hell of a long time.

"That's it! Tonight's gonna break my bad luck streak!" Dean decided. His dick twitched in agreement.

There was a knock at the motel door and a moment's pause before Sam's large frame filled the doorway. The smaller archangel followed him inside, and both found Dean tugging on his long-sleeve shirt with an actual smile on his face.

"Hey, morning!" Dean said cheerfully.

Gabriel and Sam looked at each other in confusion. "What's wrong with him?" Gabriel asked in a loud whisper.

"Is he a shifter or is he possessed?" Sam whispered back.

Dean narrowed his eyes at them. "I'm just in a good mood, I'm not deaf!"

"Why?" Gabriel asked, stealing one of the tiny seats. He put his feet up on the small table in their room and balanced backwards in the chair.

Dean shrugged. "Do I need a reason?"

"Yeah, actually," Sam said.

"Look, maybe I just woke up and realized, holy shit, a month ago we were about to die and it was the end of the fucking world. Instead, Satan kicked the bucket, the planet didn't go nuclear, and we're all alive."

Sam smirked. "Sounds like a good enough reason to me!"

"Also, stick your nose in my business again, Sammy, and I'll relocate it to the other side of your big melon," Dean added.

Sam gave him his best 'I'm an innocent puppy and you just kicked me' face. "What did I do?"

"You tricked Cas into showing up at the bar last night!"

"Oh, now I see why you're so chipper," Gabriel chuckled. Dean glowered at him for a moment.

"So, you and Cas are okay again?" Sam asked.

There was no point in arguing with his litter brother. What was done was done, and for once it was a good thing Sammy ended up doing. "Yeah, he seems less twitchy now."

"Nothing good comes from a twitchy archangel," Gabriel said sagely. "Accidental earthquakes, mass destruction, a fake moon landing…I could go on."

With a snap of his fingers Sam's bed was turned into a table with three seats and three sets of plates and cutlery.

"Except for awesome breakfast spreads, of course! Who wants bacon-filled pancakes?"

It was a warm day, full of blue sky, fluffy clouds, and bright sunshine. Dean paused and stood a step back from the Impala's side to admire her once again. No matter how many times he saw her, he always managed to fall back in love with the old car whenever she was all fixed up and gleaming in the sunlight.

"She's a real thing of beauty, isn't she?" Dean said proudly.

Sam leaned over in the front seat to look out the window at him. "So when're you gonna invite her to the Prom?" he asked.

"Bite me, buttmunch," Dean said with a laugh. Sam shook his head and went back to vacuuming the inside of the car.

They found a DIY carwash in town and were giving Ol' Faithful some much-needed TLC. Washing and fixing the car were always therapeutic in Dean's mind, and he felt himself relax as the road dust was washed away from her black exterior.

The vacuum stopped and Sam climbed out of the car. "I think I got it all," he said while stretching.

Dean leaned in through the open driver's side window and took a deep whiff. Sam was thorough—no icky smell of death or rotten meat or even lighter fluid. There was a little air freshener in one of the vents in the dashboard that smelled lightly of pine. It just looked and smelled clean and homey.

"Not bad Sammy," Dean said. "Now it doesn't smell like your armpits anymore."

"Such a veritable wit," Sam said.

"I know. I should write a book." The small carwash was empty since it was early afternoon on a weekday, so he popped open the trunk and tossed a water bottle to Sam out of the cooler. Sam came around and sat next to them. He sat on the bumper and admired the beautiful day.

"Where'd Gabe go?" Dean asked.

"Who knows," Sam said. "I'm not really his keeper."

"So, he's probably out torturing or murdering some poor bastard?" Dean asked stiffly.

Sam could see his brother getting angry. "No, no, he swore he wouldn't do anything deadly or 'permanently maiming.' But, can't really take the tricks out of a Trickster, you know? Best to let him just get it out of his system when he's not around us."

Dean wanted to argue, knock it into Sam's thick skull that Gabriel was dangerous and they really should've offed him when they had the chance—

He saved Sam's life. He went after Sam at Carthage. He saved Jo's life after leaving us high and dry. He wouldn't be trying so hard if he was going back to his old ways. Come on, Dean, forgive and forget. If Sam can do it, so can you. Remember, we saved the world!

"So, uh, what about Cas?" Sam asked. "Know what he's up to?"

Dean only shrugged. "Nah. He disappeared last night. Angels, man, always up to something."

Sam nodded in agreement. For a few moments, there was just serene peace, rare for the Winchesters. There was a reason it was such a rarity.

"Dean, you had something on your mind yesterday," Sam said casually.

"I had a lot of stuff on my mind yesterday, Sam."

"You know what I'm talking about. That little comment on the way back from the cemetery."

Dean took a swallow of water and shrugged. Normally he kept such things to himself but today…well, it was a good day. He felt lighter, less weighed down and depressed.

"Dealing with that ghost yesterday just…man, after the crap with the Apocalypse and Lucifer and Michael, that ghost was kind of anticlimactic, you know? I guess I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Sam nodded in solidarity. "There's always been something we were chasing. Or something that was chasing us."

"And now we're Winchesters without a Cause. I mean, what do we do now? Every reason we had to stay in the game…isn't much of a reason anymore." Dean finished. He'd spent his whole life chasing down Yellow-Eyes, and then trying to run from Hell, then trying to stop the Apocalypse and not end up as an angelic rental tux. And now?

The past was mostly forgiven and gone, the future still a blank slate. One that was a bit more positive-looking than the usual doom-and-gloom that had dictated most of their lives.

It was downright terrifying.

Sam was silent for a moment, thinking. "We adapt. Try something different."

"What, you mean like you back to Stanford, finish your degree?" He tried not to sound bitter, but knew it sounded whiny if nothing else.

The idea of Sam taking off again made his chest hurt. It had hurt last time, hurt so badly that Dean had said some things that night he still regretted years later. After everything that they had been through, Sam and Bobby were the only family Dean had left. They had gone through everything for each other, gone to literal Hell for each other.

What the hell would I do without my copilot?

Sam sighed. "You really think I could go to Stanford like a normal guy, knowing I was supposed to be the Devil's vessel? No, I don't think so. I tried to be normal once. Look how well that worked out."

"The way I see it, you're either in the game or out of it," Dean said. "What else is there?"

"We could…take a break for a while," Sam slowly suggested.

"A break? And do what, exactly?" Dean asked. "You honestly think we should just leave innocent people to die because we're feeling lazy?"

"We're not the only hunters in the country, Dean. The world didn't end when I was at Stanford and not hunting," Sam pointed out.

"What's because Dad and I picked up your slack."

"Excuse me?"

Dean opened his mouth but closed it. He hadn't meant to do that, but it seemed if Dean had any sort of talent, it was opening his mouth and inserting his foot so far down his mouth his stomach would start digesting it. Shit, I was in such a good mood too!

Sam crossed his arms and glowered at his brother. "You're a dick, you know that?"

"It's one of my many talents," Dean said, trying to lighten the mood.

Sam didn't say anything, he simply got up and got into the passenger seat, slamming the heavy door a little harder than Dean figured was necessary. He rubbed the back of his neck and kicked a rock in annoyance. Me and my big mouth.

The ride back to the motel room was tense, to say the least. Sam steadfastly stared out the passenger side window. Dean tapped the rhythm of 'Renegade' on the steering wheel, trying to pretend Sam's stewing wasn't bothering him.

Sam coughed into his hand and Dean's stomach felt a little queasy. It gurgled loudly in some kind of protesting fashion. He laid a hand on his stomach and groaned. "Ow….!"

"What?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Dean's stomach flip-flopped a little more; he felt really bloated and gross. "Dude, somethin's not agreein' with me…"

There was a tightening in his midriff, like a cramp in his abs that wasn't going away. "Ow, shit!"

"Dean, pull over if you're gonna be sick!" Sam said in a panicked voice.

Dean pulled the car off to the side of the road. He felt he was being pumped full of air by a bicycle pump like in a cartoon. Except in cartoons, when people got pumped up too much, they usually explo—

BRRRAAAAAPPPP!

"Oh, my God!" Sam yelped in shock. He fumbled with the door handle and shoved the door open so hard he fell out of the car onto the grass next to the road. "Dean!"

"Holy shit!" Dean swore as he flopped out of the driver side door, coughing violently.

"Jesus, Dean, was that a fart or a nuclear bomb?" Sam asked as the fumes hit him. He stuffed his nose into the crook of his elbow and his eyes were watering. He moved on his belly around to the back of the car, hoping he was crawling under the stink cloud his brother had released.

Sam got up and stumbled a few feet away, staring at the car like it might explode. Dean had managed to get away too, a mixture of embarrassment, pain, and horrified confusion on his features.

Sam gagged. "It smells worse than you did after that all-you-can-eat Taco Tuesday buffet we stopped at!"

"That was one time, Sam, and you weren't doing so well holding his rice and beans either," Dean shot back. "He's dead Sam! My poor car…."

"Gabriel didn't do this," Sam said, motioning towards the car. "He's not here."

"He could mojo me from Antarctica if he felt like it!" Dean said hotly. His butt actually hurt from the blast.

"He's a sadistic prick, he likes to see his victims suffer up close and personal," Sam said, looking around. "He'd already be rolling around and laughing his ass off if he were here."

Dean scowled at him, a dangerous shadow passed over his face. "Then you did something, didn't you!"

"Yeah Dean, I mojoed you into stink-bombing your own car," Sam said. Despite the rotten egg/gym socks/ode du skunk coming from the car (so potent they could taste it in the back of their mouths) Sam managed to roll his eyes.

"Then one of you slipped something into the pancakes!"

"Then why aren't I-?"

"Shut up, Sam!"

Dean groaned and sat down heavily on the side of the road. He hissed as he landed on his ass—holy crap that fucking hurt-and buried his head in his hands. "What the hell did I do to deserve this?"

Sam let out a sigh, seeing his dejected brother slumped there. He sprinted to Dean's driver side (holding his breath the whole time) and grabbed the keys to open the trunk. He dug around inside it for a moment before letting out a triumphant sound. Dean turned around to see him holding up a can of Febreeze.

"Emergency stash," Sam said proudly, until his face fell slightly. "Um…it was all they had…" he showed the can to Dean, who visibly shuddered. The hunter looked at the can, then at his car, and then sighed in defeat. "Go for it."

A few minutes of furious spraying and airing out later, and the Winchesters climbed back into the car. They were immediately enveloped in a cloud of 'Springtime Wonder.'

"Chicks dig flowers," Dean told himself as he started the car. "Least we'll be a hit with the ladies, right?" He gripped the steering wheel tight and tried to brace up his crumbling sense of dignity as they got back onto the road.

Sam sniffed. "Is that…lavender?"

"Lilac," Dean immediately corrected him. He could see Sam staring at him. "Perfume, man, I"ve smelled it on chicks…their perfume."

"Sure, Dean."

His crumbling dignity completely crumbled into dust.

"Oh my…my….Father above….hahahahaha!"

"It wasn't that funny," Sam said in a huff, arms crossed over his chest.

His mate, the Archangel Gabriel, was currently rolling around the floor with tears streaming down his face and was close to hyperventilating from lack of air. Not that such a thing would've really mattered to the angel.

"Are you kidding me? You stink-bombed him with you stupid ass still inside the car! Hahaha! That's the funniest thing I've heard in a long time, Winchester. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one…guess you were running on fumes with that idea, huh?"

"I was just trying to give him some cramps or something," Sam said. "He was being a jerk."

"And that's why I'm going to win our little bet," Gabriel said, sitting up and wiping away the tears. "I have better imagination and better control of my Grace. But, considering he didn't explode like a Looney Tunes cartoon, I guess you're getting a better hang of it."

Sam flopped down on his bed in the empty motel room. Dean had decided to take a walk down the corner gas station once they got back. He was convinced the Impala was mad at him; he didn't feel comfortable driving her after such a heinous violation of her person. Thus, he had walked to the gas station to try and find something to give the Impala for an apology.

Gabriel appeared next to him, still smirking like he had every right in the world to wear that haughty look. He sniffed once and gagged loudly. "You're not allowed to come home unless you take at least ten showers," he proclaimed.

"You let Rascal come home after he tried to hump a skunk," Sam argued.

"Rascal didn't know any better," Gabriel said in his furry companion's defense.

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. "Well, since he's not here, I'm going to take a shower now."

"Can I join you?" Gabriel asked, excitement and a bit of mischief on his face.

"If Dean catches us—"

"Don't worry about Deanie-Weenie," Gabriel cut him off with a hot, sloppy kiss that was all tongue and lust. "Shower, now!" Gabriel ordered. Sam shivered.

Dean was gone about 45 minutes, and he returned with a brown bag in his arms. He stopped at the side of the car and patted the Impala's hood. "I'm really sorry about earlier," he said sincerely. He fished around in the bag and pulled out several packages of Little Tree air fresheners. "So, um…sorry about earlier. To be fair, though, it wasn't my fault completely. I know Sam or Gabe or both of them had something to do with it, and I'll let you run over the guilty party when I figure out who did it."

The car sat there and Dean put down the bag, crawled into the seat, and hung up one of the air fresheners from the rear-view mirror. He had decided his penance was going to be having to inhale the girliest scent he could find. He took a whiff and sighed. Instead of hating it, he actually liked the Lilac freshener.

It appeared Dean was terrible at self-immolation.

He grabbed his stuff and walked up to the door of his room, pounding loudly on it several times just in case. After a solid ten seconds, he opened the door while bellowing "Sam, I'm coming in and you better be descent!"

When Dean walked in, he was pretty sure he was hallucinating, or at the very least got the wrong room. Or building entirely.

Their room as suddenly a bar. Complete with a counter and row of stools at the back next to the bathroom and a pool table in the middle. Sam was bent over making a shot. Gabriel was standing next to him and poking him in the side in his pool stick trying to make him miss. Standing in the middle of the room was Castiel, who was quizzically staring at his own pool stick.

"What the freakin' hell?" Dean asked as he closed the door behind him. He was so confused, yet he was already accepting the insanity that popped into existence whenever Gabriel was around.

Sam made the shot, and the striped ball went into the pocket easily. Gabriel moaned and Sam grinned. "Ha!" the hunter said and poked Gabriel in retaliation.

"Alright, alright, you're descent for a mortal," Gabriel allowed.

"Hey Dean," Sam greeted.

"Hello Dean," Castiel said, frowning at the balls on the table.

"Well, I guess the 6-oack I bought is now useless," Dean said, shoving his bag in the room's small mini-fridge. "So, what exactly is going on?"

"There's no good bar in the area so I decided I'd make my own!" Gabriel said. With a snap another Gabriel, complete with slicked-back hair, a mustache and dressed as a prohibition-era barkeep, appeared behind the counter.

"Whatcha drinking?" The double asked him.

"Whiskey?" Dean asked.

A glass appeared in front of him; for an illusion, it tasted descent enough. He chuckled at Cas's face.

"I didn't think you were a billiards kind of guy, Cas," Dean said.

The angel shook his head. "I'm not. Gabriel said it was a matter of importance I meet you here. No offense, Dean, but games with balls and sticks are not that important."

Dean closed his eyes but he could hear Gabriel snickering under his breath. "Hey, that's our livelihood you're crapping on! Monster-hunting isn't a well-paying job, you know."

"As I said, no offense."

"Come on, Cas, maybe you'd like to pull that stick outta your ass and use that one?" Gabriel said, elbowing him the side, yet the angel didn't move.

"Come on, guys, lighten up! You beat Dad's plan and the world survived. Let's have some fun!" Gabriel whined. "Cas, how about a game of darts? Bet I could beat you at that."

Castiel nodded. "You probably could. You have more fighting experience than me."

Gabriel groaned. "Cas, you're hopeless. Come on." With that, Gabriel dragged Castiel over to a wall with a dartboard, a devilish grin on his face.

Sam handed Gabriel's stick to Dean. "He can't stand the fact he was losing," Sam said with a chuckle. "Come on, loser buys the winner the next round."

"Not sure how much fun this is gonna be with imaginary alcohol," Dean mumbled but he helped set up the balls for a new game.

"Sounds like an excuse to me," Sam said, shooting him a confident smile that Dean hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Fine. Just don't go crying to Gabe when I had you your ass on a silver platter."

"Corner pocket," Dean said with a smug grin. He barely even lined up the shot before hitting the cue ball with practiced ease, sinking the 1 ball in the pocket he'd called.

"That was luck," Sam said.

"That's right, be jealous of the true master," Dean said smugly. Sam rolled his eyes and leaned down to make his own shot.

Dean's eyes drifted over to Gabriel and Castiel across the 'bar.' They were both staring at the dartboard and seemed to be arguing in a hushed manner.

He leaned down and whispered furiously in Sam's ear. "By the way, Sammy, knock it off with the Cas thing!"

Sam missed the ball completely and shot Dean a furious glare. "What are you talking about?" He sounded legitimately confused.

"Last night you sicked Cas on me, and don't try to deny it. And now Gabriel suddenly drags Cas here for no reason?" Dean whispered, trying to keep the angels from hearing him.

Sam crossed his arms. "Dean, did you ever think that maybe this had nothing to do with you?"

Dean arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Yeah, maybe I said something last night because there's no point in being mad over a misunderstanding," Sam admitted, rubbing his neck. "But Gabe? Maybe he wants to try and make amends with Cas, too. They are brothers after all."

"Angels don't care about crap like that."

Sam's face fell slightly. "They care more than they let on, Dean."

He huffed, and looked at Cas and Gabriel arguing, seeing the mirrored images of his and Sam's own heated debates over sports and movies.

"Hey, Sam, when I was out, I was thinking. Maybe you had a point earlier."

Sam finally sank the ball in the pocket and pulled out his cellphone. "Wait, I need to record this moment for posterity."

"Bitch." Dean managed to hit the wrong colored ball and swore under his breath. "You know what? You're right. Even Gabe had a point earlier. We saved the friggin' world, Sammy! We deserve to do something different, something fun."

"Never thought I'd hear you agree! So, what do you want to do?" Sam asked, plainly curious.

He opened his mouth, but Gabriel's voice overrode him. "Hey, Winchesters! We need a professional opinion here."

Curious, the brothers strode over to the angels that were staring intently at the dartboard on the wall. "Which dart is closer to the center?"

The humans started at the dartboard with wide eyes and slack jaws. "Um…seriously?" Sam asked.

"Who Robin Hooded who?" Dean asked in unconscious awe.

In the middle of the dart board were two metal darts—or at least, that's what it was supposed to be. Instead, one dart had made the bull's-eye only to be split down the middle by a second dart that had then fused the two together into a lump of metal.

"I did!" Gabriel said gleefully.

"Sorry Cas, but I think it's a tie," Dean said.

"Exactly like I said," Gabriel told the other angel.

"You're several hundred micrometers off the mark," Cas said in a huff.

"Well, we can't see that, so…" Sam shrugged.

Dean looked down at his watch and licked his lips. "And that's my cue to vamoose." He handed Sam his cue stick and went to grab his jacket, grinning all the while.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked. The angels watched curiously.

"I," Dean said as he pulled his jacket on. "Will be spending the night in the arms of a nubile female, preferably in a miniskirt and just drunk enough to consider me a good life choice."

"We were in the middle of a game, jackass," Sam muttered.

"We both know I was winning, Sam. I just saved you a horrible ass-whooping in front of your boy there," he motioned towards Gabriel. He grinned and waved at them as they headed out the door. "See you later alligators!"

The angels glanced at Sam, and Sam frowned at the door. "Ass," was all he said in annoyance.

Castiel looked contemplative, and Gabriel's eyes suddenly lit up.

Sam! Now would be the perfect time to prank Dean!

Right now? Cas is still here!

He won't notice. Come on, Sambini, I bet my prank'll get them together in 24 hours.

A whole 24 hours? Do you need some pranking Viagra or something to get your engine going? Sam thought with a snicker.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny. Come on, Sam, look at Cas! Doesn't he look like he could use some lovin'?

Sam squinted at Cas. No, honestly he looks like he could use a laxative.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. You're draggin' ass, Winchester. I'm pranking Dean, and if you don't I win by default.

You can't expect me to just mojo him just like that! What if I accidentally kill him?

Wouldn't be the first time I've raised him. 3…2…

Okay, okay!

…1!

Gabriel and Sam snapped their fingers at the same time, though Sam's face was scrunched up in concentration as he did so. He felt the energy in his bones shoot out the door and for a second he could feel Dean in the Impala, drumming on the steering wheel to a song, grinning like a dope.

Castiel, who had his head tilted up to the ceiling, as if listening to something faint and far away, turned and looked at them with suspicion. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing," Gabriel said easily. "Wanna play around round of darts?"

He stood tall with his chest pushed out. "I really should go."

"Humans have been dealing with their own issues for thousands of years. You taking an hour to hang with us isn't going to change anything," Gabriel said.

Cas frowned. "With that attitude it's no wonder it's all falling apart," he said coldly.

"Tsk, tsk, Castiel, you know you shouldn't push my buttons," Gabriel said, wagging his finger.

"Cas," Sam started, stepping forward between the angels. "Just remember that we're here for you, okay? Feel free to drop by whenever, alright?"

Cas nodded and disappeared with a rustle of beating feathers.

Sam turned back to Gabriel's smirking face, his cheeks red. "So, how will we know if…?"

"Oh, trust me, Sam, we'll know," Gabriel said with an overly dramatic laugh.