AN: So this is a story I have written with my incredibly talented friend therealjainasolo (please check out her account her writing is epic!). Basically I had an idea, she developed it into something amazing, I wrote a basic outline and she turned it into an amazing story! Seriously, she turned nothing into everything! So yeah, I hope you like this story cause I love it! Two of my favourite things: Team Freewill and Captain Jack's coat. Right on with the story!

Dean Winchester was not having a good day.

It had all started when Castiel had appeared in his and Sam's motel room demanding that they get off of their asses (not Cas' words of course: the angel's vocabulary hadn't progressed to that level just yet), stop moping and find a case or he would. Dean had merely raised his eyebrows at their feathered friend's forcefulness but Sam had agreed that it was time they got up and did something. It simply wouldn't do to sit around brooding about their inevitably tragic future when there were things to hunt and people to save. Family business and all.

That was what Sam said right up until Cas disappeared with a flutter of his wings. As soon as the angel had gone, however, the younger Winchester had flopped back on his bed and covered his face with his pillow, declaring that there was no way he was going on a case for the foreseeable future lest Lucifer find him and make him his bitch. Screw the Apocalypse. Dean had agreed seeing as he was still rather pissed at the fact that he had to be Michael's bitch. And that had been the end of that.

Or so Dean thought.

The brothers decided to go out and get pie, Dean's ultimate safe food. But, because the universe seemed to hate him, the store had run out so he was stuck with some rather forlorn looking pastry that Sam had picked out instead. A rather poor substitute in Dean's opinion. Therefore, he wasn't in the best of moods when the two returned to their motel room to find Cas standing by the door waiting for them. Unfortunately for the angel, he hadn't found the best place to announce himself and so when he cleared his throat from his position in the shadows behind the door, he immediately had a knife pressed to his throat by Sam.

"Dear God!" Sam exclaimed when he saw that the 'intruder' was in fact the trench coat wearing angel.

"No, I am not God, Sam," Cas explained without so much as a flinch for the cold metal pressed against his throat. "I thought we had made it clear that he was impossible to find? Do you not recall my so called 'bender'?"

Sam sighed, moving his knife away from Cas' neck and walking towards the bed to sit down, all the while muttering about the 'dumb angels that never learn not to sneak up on people unless they wanted a knife through their throat'.

"Why are you here anyway, Cas?" Dean asked, ignoring the muttering from his brother and moving towards the centre of the room.

"I told you to get and case and you did not. Therefore, I am here with one for you," Castiel said rather disapprovingly but Dean refused to cower under the angel's stare. Cas moved from his position in the shadows, finally twigging that it didn't make the Winchesters comfortable if he stood there.

"So what have you got?" Sam asked, over the shock (and slight humour), that he had nearly speared his friend in the throat.

"What happened to Little Miss 'I don't want to go on a case in case I become Satan's meat suit'?" Dean grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"Hey, you're the one who broke my laptop," Sam retorted. (It was true: Dean had gotten rather annoyed at the entire situation and of course the closest object with which he could vent his frustration had been Sam's laptop. It was only after it was lying in a heap of twisted plastic and wires that Dean had realised what he had done…Sam had moaned for two days straight.) "Plus, you have to admit that it is getting kind of boring."

"It's been less than a day Sam!" Dean exclaimed but at the raised eyebrows he received from his younger brother, he conceded. "Okay, it's been a little boring. What have you got Cas?"

"A shape shifter. I have been informed that you have a certain dislike for them," Castiel replied, now seemingly extremely interested in the contents of the sink.

"'A certain dislike'?" Dean mimicked Castiel's gravelly voice. "I hate the bastards! Do you know that we were on the run for two years because one of those sons-of-bitches convinced the police that I was a damned murderer? I had to go into hiding for four weeks because they even had a god awful picture of me! Four weeks, Cas! Four weeks of crappy microwave meals Sam had to bring me. No sun, no Impala. Hell, I've never missed walking more in my life than then! So would you like to talk to me again about my 'certain dislike'?" Dean finished his little rant, his voice growing slightly hoarse. Sam looked at him with raised eyebrows, not looking as if this were anything completely out of the ordinary, but with a look that clearly said 'Dean, really?' Cas however, merely blinked owlishly at the elder Winchester from where he stood rather awkwardly in the middle of the room and this prompted Dean to clear his throat and grab his keys.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Well, what are we waiting for? We best move now if we want to be there by morning." Dean picked up his duffle bag and moved towards the door but Castiel's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Actually, it isn't that simple Dean," he said. Dean looked back at him with a questioning look on his face and Sam stood up from his bed frowning.

"Spill," Dean demanded.

"What would you like for me to spill? I hardly think that throwing a substance on the ground will be of any use to us, but I shall give it some thought," Castiel remarked and Dean sighed, wondering whether children were easier to deal with than angels. (Yes, the answer was yes.)

"Tell is why 'it isn't that simple'," Dean prompted.

Cas frowned but answered nonetheless. "It is not possible to drive there because it is in Cardiff."

Dean looked alarmed at the fact that the only way of getting there was via flight or with Cas' 'angel mojo'. Either didn't exactly look enticing to him.

"Did you just say…Cardiff?" he choked out, completely still. Cas nodded gravely.

"As in, the UK, Cardiff?" Dean continued, his reaction unnerving the angel which was ridiculous because it was hardly as if Dean could physically harm him (he's only end up hurting himself…again). "Like, across an ocean?" Once again, Cas nodded mutely.

"Calm down Dean," Sam smirked and Dean threw his brother a glare. "We're going: I've always wanted to go to Cardiff. I hear the Roald Dahl Plass is really cool!" Sam grabbed his coat and gave his brother a look that said there was no arguing with him on this one. Dean would either have to like it or lump it.

"You're a Roald Dahl fan? Figures," Dean muttered before turning his attention back to the angel. "So I guess this means we're gonna have to be zapped then?"

"Unless you would prefer to take an aeroplane?" Castiel asked but Dean shook his head vigorously. He only hoped that Cas would actually get them to the right place this time and not have to walk for half an hour because they were in the wrong place.

"This time, you're staying with us so we don't have to walk for years if you drop us off in the wrong place." Cas made to interrupt, possibly stating that they didn't have to walk for years, but Dean stopped him by adding rather forcefully, "You're buying me pie when we get there. And not some soggy gross thing from a germy trailer parked in the middle of god knows where."

Cas nodded and gestured for the brothers to stand next to each other. "I should have enough power to take us without any mishaps," he explained and touched both of their foreheads. All three disappeared with the motel room left undisturbed, as if two demon hunters and an angel of the Lord had never been there.

There was a small grunt as Sam fell on top of Dean in what looked like an abandoned warehouse, presumably in Cardiff. Dean pushed his brother off of him and stood up, dusting himself down, quickly followed by Sam. Castiel stood stoically a few metres away from them, obviously unaffected by their method of travel.

"You sure this is the right place Cas?" Dean asked, looking around the warehouse to see nothing out of the ordinary. Sam got the EMF reader out of his pocket and turned it on. Of course, the device went absolutely crazy.

"Yep, this is the place," Sam quipped. Castiel began to walk away from them with strides that even Sam with his longer legs struggled to keep up with.

"I really hope this is Cardiff. Think about it Sammy, hot chicks with British accents," Dean chattered excitedly, jogging to keep up with the others.

"I thought you didn't want to be here? And they'll have Welsh accents, which are kinda different from English ones," Sam questioned, rolling his eyes; trust his brother to automatically think of girls.

"Whatever," Dean dismissed. "I'm just seeing the perks here Sammy. We get the job done and before Cas zaps us back to sunny lil' America, why not have a little fun with the local cuisine?" Dean gave his brother a slightly insane grin and Sam just nodded, knowing it was best not to say anything. Suddenly, Castiel stopped walking, causing the brother to walk right into him. If he had been human, Cas would have been pushed over but being the angel that he was, he stood completely still and it was Dean and Sam that were knocked back by the force with which they had walked into him. They looked around to see why Cas had stopped and that was when they heard the voice.

"Tosh, Ianto, would you hurry up and get over here? I swear to God, by the time you two are done, this thing will be long gone." An American accent came from the doorway.

Dean and Sam froze. "I thought you said we were in Cardiff?" Dean asked, tapping Cas in the shoulder. Castiel didn't reply that he had never said such a thing, instead murmuring,

"We are."

"Then why am I hearing an American accent?" Dean muttered as the door creaked open and a team of people walked in, equipped with high tech gear far too clever for their time and being led by a man in a long blue trench coat.

"Well, this looks like fun," Dean quipped. This was turning into such a good day(!)

AN: So, what did you think? Do you love it as much as I do? Please give us a review and tell us what you think! We don't mind helpful criticism.