Dean settled down at the table and pulled the shopping bag towards him. He sifted through Sam's fruit and health drinks and pulled the only plastic wrapped thing from underneath a bunch of bananas. Using his teeth he ripped open the packet. Grabbing the nearest knife (which happened to be the Kurdish blade) he cut himself a generous slice. As he was raising it towards his mouth he happened to look up and nearly jumped out of his skin, dropping the pie into his lap.

"Jesus Christ!"

"No Dean it's me, Cas."

"You need to stop doing that!"

"Sorry, but appearing out of thin air is hard to do unannounced."

"Ever heard of knocking?"

"I have," Cas replied. "It's when you-"

"You don't need to explain what it is. What do you want?"

"Actually, it's more what YOU want."

"The hell are you talking about?"

"Dean, you need a holiday."

Dean stared at him. "Don't be ridiculous."

"You do!" Cas insisted. "Look at yourself. You haven't slept in days, you're drinking 5 beers and 10 coffees a day and you haven't done anything about that pie in your lap."

Dean absent-mindedly picked at the broken pieces of pastry on his jeans.

"Maybe you're right," he admitted. "But where would we go?"

"I have an idea," Sam entered the kitchen carrying a newspaper. "Why don't we go to the Isles of Scilly?"

"The Isles of what?"

"Scilly. S-C-I-L-L-Y. They're a group of islands off the South Western tip of Britain."

"Britain?" Cas sounded incredulous. "I was thinking somewhere sunnier, like Greece."

Dean opened his mouth to agree with Cas, but caught Sam's meaningful glare.

"Actually," he said. "I've always wanted to visit these…silly islands."

"Really?" Cas said doubtfully.

"Yeah. They sound…awesome."

"Well, if you're sure…"

"Oh, we're sure," Sam piped up.

"Ok then." Cas said. "Pray to me when you've worked out the details and I'll meet you there." He vanished with a flutter of wings.

Sam sat opposite Dean, smoothed the newspaper out and read the headline. "'Mysterious planet above the Isles of Scilly coincides with disappearances from Old Town.'"

"So what are we talking," Dean said, ever the practical. "Vengeful God?"

"Could be…" Sam said. "It's more plausible than aliens, which everyone seems to think it is."

"Only one way to find out I guess," Dean said. "Pack your bags little bro, we're going to Britain!"