A FUN-GUY TO BE WITH
WOW: thread. Castiel only wants to help, really he does.
Disclaimer: Looked in the closets, down the back of the sofa. Nope, still don't own them.
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Irritably threading his fingers through his increasingly unkempt hair, Sam pushed his plate of salad away as he sat back and stared across the Batcave's enormous dining table to Dean sitting opposite him, slumped face down in his plate and snoring wetly and very contentedly into a puddle of baked beans.
He turned to the third figure at their dinner table; intense blue eyes gazed nervously back at him.
"Cas," he sighed; "it's not that I don't appreciate you cooking for us because, really, I do; but where the hell did you get those mushrooms you put in Dean's omelette?"
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