Dean wasn't sure what to expect when Cas told him to close his eyes and wait patiently at the table. He hasn't celebrated his birthday in forever, so the fact that someone was making a fuss about it was foreign to him. But he did as he was told. Maybe he'd get an awesome present out of it.

He heard Cas walking towards him, so he knew his present must be getting close. "I believe it is customary to sing you a song."

"Please don't sing, Cas."

"In that case, you may open your eyes."

He cautiously opened his eye, and before him sat a fresh, homemade apple pie. It had a candle in the shape of a one sticking out of it, which was lit.

"What's with the candle?"

"I didn't know your age, so it's how many years I've known you. Make a wish."

Dean grinned a cheesy grin and blew out the candle.

Cas titled his head out of curiosity. "What did you wish for?"

"You know I don't believe in wishes, Cas."

"Oh... Well, would you like some ice cream with your pie?"

"Wow, my wish did come true. Yes, please!" Dean could hardly contain the smile on his face.

Cas cut him a slice of pie, placed it on his plate, and topped it off with a large scoop of vanilla ice cream. The ice cream started melted with the heat of the pie, and Dean began drooling just a little bit.

"How did you know apple was my favorite?"

"You talk in your sleep."

"Oh... awkward..."

"Sorry. Please eat your pie."

Dean took a large chunk in his fork, and shoveled it into his mouth. His eye widened, and he nearly choked. He glanced at Cas who was staring at him with a look of hope and anticipation. Dean reluctantly swallowed the bite.

"Can I get a glass of milk, Cas?"

"Sure!"

When Cas left the room, Dean tried to dispose of as much pie as he possibly could. He looked around the empty room, trying to find something, but not having any luck. Just as he heard Cas close the refrigerator door, he spotted a flower vase, and quickly disposed of the majority of his pie.

Cas returned, handing Dean the glass of milk. "How is it?"

"It's amazing, Cas. What recipe did you use?"

"Recipe?"

"Uh... You know, the instructions? What ingredients did you use?"

"I saw someone make it once on the television. So I tried to remember what they used. Here, I'll show you."

Cas went to the kitchen and returned with an arm-full of supplies. Apples, butter, milk, salt, cinnamon, and flour.

"Where's the sugar, Cas?"

"Here." Cas pointed to the container of salt.

Dean shuddered and took a big gulp of his milk. "And what kind of apples are those?"

"I found them! They were in a bowl in the motel office."

Dean's eyes grew wide. "You mean the plastic fruit?"

"They were really hard to cut up, but I managed..."

Dean was scared to ask any more questions. "And how long did you cook it for?"

"10 minutes."

Dean just stared at Cas for a while, and put his fork on his plate. "Boy, I sure am full. That was the best pie I've ever had, Cas. Thank you very much."

Cas smiled at him. "You're welcome, Dean. If you want, I can make you pie more often."

"No! ...No. No thank you. That pie was enough to fill me up for at least a year."

"Happy birthday, Dean."

"Thanks Cas. But you don't have to get me a present next year."