Sam leafed through the coarse pages of an ancient text. A sigh escaped his massive frame. Sometimes it was a pleasant change of pace to be able to relax in the bunker without the weight of a case hanging over him. But this? This was getting ridiculous.

They hadn't worked a case in weeks. He'd sat at his laptop for hours at a time scouring the internet for what Dean would call "freaky crap". But crazy had completely left town.

Dean plopped himself down at the table and took a swig of scotch. "You find anything?"

Sam rolled his eyes at him. "Nope."

"Dude, you're not even looking. You're reading… what is this? What are you reading?"

"I'm researching." Sam replied, with growing infuriation.

"What? Ancient porno?"

Dean smiled proudly at his quip, but his brother glared. "You know, Dean? I don't see you helping."

Dean grinned again and took another gulp of scotch. "That's because there's nothing to find. Let's just lie low a couple of days. Take a little vacation. Like, an all-expenses paid trip to nowhere."

"Dean, we've been on 'vacation' for two weeks. When are we going to start doing something!?"

In reply, he smugly tapped Sam's laptop. "Soon as you find us a case, Sammy."

Sam said nothing. He looked back down to his incredibly old book and rolled his eyes. He blew at a hair that continuously found its way in front of his face. In the background Dean was tapping his fingers on the table and blowing large puffs of air from his lungs.

Sam's chair shrieked as he jerked up from the table. "Okay, you know what? I can't do this anymore. We need–"

"A case?"

The gruff voice came from directly behind him. Sam tensed, reaching immediately for the knife he kept just above his boot.

"Dude, one day that angel mojo of yours if gonna get you ganked." Dean chuckled.

The voice registered in Sam's mind and he released his grip on the blade.

"I don't understand," the angel muttered, his eyes squinting in confusion, "Only an angel blade can kill an angel."

It was impossible for Sam to contain a grin. "Still," he said, "it would suck to get stuck in the heart with a knife."

Cas appeared to mull this over and nodded. "How is that relevant?"

"Nevermind," Sam responded, snickering.

Dean laughed. "What can we do you for?"

"I think I found a case."

"Really?" It was Sam who replied incredulously, but both brothers' eyes widened with the prospect of something to do.

"Where?" Sam asked, rushing back into his chair and jerking his laptop open. His excitement was almost comparable to a five year old at Chuck E Cheese's.

"You, uh, seem really happy about this."

A dash of pink spread through Sam's cheeks. He was right. A case meant people were getting hurt. "I'm not. I, uh. I'm just…" He looked up at Cas again and the pink turned into a red. "We…"

"Little Sammy here's got a case of cabin fever."

Castiel squinted again and put his hand to Sam's forehead. "I don't feel anything."

"No, Cas it's not… nevermind. So where's this case?"

He pulled his hand away from the moose and looked to Dean. "Missoula, Montana. The locals are all talking about –"

"We're actually way ahead of you man. Already went up there to check it out."

"Yeah," Sam added, "turns out it was some elaborate publicity stunt."

"So it's nothing?"

"Yep. We got dick. Just a couple kids who had no idea what they were doing."

"Oh." Cas, for all his angelic prowess, actually seemed deflated. The information he'd brought back was completely useless. "I see. I'll continue looking."

"Well why don't you stay at the bunker for a bit?" Sam asked. "You can, uh, get some rest…"

"Angels don't need rest."

"Well, you're always out doing something or another for us. Why don't you, I don't know, relax?"

Cas squinted and sat at the table with him. The sight of Castiel sitting was odd. He was always on his feet, and the rare times he did sit, he remained stiff. It was as if he didn't know how to wind down.

"So, is this how relaxing works?" His eyes met Sam's and Cas grew confused when he looked away just as quickly. "Are we, not supposed to look at each other?"

Dean was staring at his brother. "Dude, Sammy, what's up with you. You're like a teenage girl."

He glared. "I just, want to be doing something." He stood up again and grabbed the TV remote. He turned it on, but didn't even look at the screen. Instead, he caught himself looking at Cas. Inside that Holy Tax Accountant of a body was something powerful and dangerous, and yet here was this gawky vessel that could barely comprehend the concept of relaxing, and who seemed to have an eternal squint. Sam swiveled around on the couch, propping his arms up on the back of it and leaning against his elbows. He stared at a stray hair that stood up amongst Cas' already disheveled mop and smiled.

"Dude, are you seriously watching this?"

"Huh?" Dean's voice shook him out of his mini-trance.

"Yeah, do you have a fetish?"

Sam looked back to the TV and his face lit up red like New York on Christmas. Dora the Explorer had been playing for ten minutes and that entire time he'd been staring at Cas. Why had he been staring at Cas? He looked back at him and blushed again. That's why.

"Sam!"

He jumped off the couch and turned the TV off frantically. "I got, I uhm. I'm gonna get some sleep." He couldn't find an explanation for what had happened, so he'd decided it was better to preserve his dignity and walk away before it was too late. "Night Dean. Uhm, night Castiel."

"Goodnight. Dean and I will be here relaxing." He turned to Dean. "How's this. Do I seem relaxed?"

Sam backed away towards his room. A bookshelf teetered precariously as he slammed against it on his way to his room. "Nononono," he muttered, putting his weight against the other side of it.

"Sammy! What are you doing?"

"Nothing, I just, bumped into it." He held his hands out against it, prepared in case it still fell, but for the most part, it seemed balanced again. "Goodnight. Both of you." He gave a slight bow and spun around, but not before catching sight of Cas' squinty-eyed glance. He seemed suspecting. Oh God, he hoped not. He blushed and rushed into his room, shutting the door behind him before letting out a loud groan.

There was a sharp knock behind him. "It's Dean. We need to talk."

Sam opened the door against his better judgment, only to be doused in the face with liquid. "Is that…"

"Holy water?"

Sam nodded.

"Yep. You were acting weird as Hell. I just had to make sure dude."

"You thought I was possessed?" There was a touch of anger in his voice.

"Can you blame me?" Dean asked, pushing his way into the room. He plopped onto Sam's bed, still wearing his boots, and lied down. "So, spill. What's got you Walmart-Shopper crazy?"

"Nothing, Dean."

"Yeah, I don't believe that. Not for a second."

"I was planning on getting some sleep, but you're not going to let that happen. Are you?"

"Not until you tell me what's got you wrapped in a ball of teenage girl emotions. I mean, come on Sam. You're all over the place!"

"Fine, you want me to talk. I will. It's," Sam cleared his throat, wondering how even to put his 'problem' into words, "It's Cas."

"What about him?"

"I think I might…"Sam turned his head to hide the red that was slowly creeping up his face.

"Might what."

"Dean, have you looked at Cas lately? I mean, do you ever just… look at Cas?"

This time Dean looked away. He feigned a laugh. "Where are you going with this Sam?"

"I just mean, I don't know. He's kind of… good-looking."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So you like him?"

"Yeah, Dean, I think so."

Dean sat up. "Well, maybe I could play wingman for you two." He snickered. "But you're never going to get anywhere acting like this." He laughed.

"But how do you even know he swings that way."

"I can ask him." He replied, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I'd really you rather not."

"Alrighty then. I'll leave you in here to draw your names together on all your notebooks." He made his way to the door and grinned slyly back at his brother. A flying trajectory nearly collided with Dean's face. It would have if he hadn't ducked in time to miss it. "You loooove him."

"Really? Are we five now?"

"You're…five."

There was another knock at the door.

"I think that's for you, lover-boy."

"Dean, I swear I am not opposed to shooting you right now."

This of course only made him laugh harder. "Yeah, I bet you aren't." He opened the door. "Well, speak of the devil."

"Not quite. Dean, I need to talk to you, it's important." Cas eyed Sam carefully as he came in. "In private?"

"Yeah. Sure you can handle yourself Sammy?"

"Shut up Dean!"

"Now would be more advantageous than later." Cas added.

"Righteo. I'll be back to talk about all the 'juicy deets' later. Try to contain yourself until then."

"This is why I don't tell you things!" He shouted as Dean walked out the door.

Cas continued to stare at Sam, making him squirm uncomfortably, yet at the same time, he couldn't manage to break his gaze. Cas' eyes were… well, they were blue. Like, really blue. The kind of hypnotic shade that simultaneously made a person want to look away, but held their gaze at the same time.

"Right, well, didn't you have something to talk to Dean about."

"Yes. I did."

As he was walking out the door, Sam's eyes traced Cas' body, stopping at his butt. That ass! He jerked his head away, but found himself craning his neck to look as he disappeared from sight.