Author's Note:
Okay, so my "brief writing vacation" turned out not to be so brief, but nonetheless, here I am! This is random, I know, but the idea popped into mind and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. Which took some time since I've spent the last several days catching up on Queer As Folk, a show I am hopelessly and unashamedly addicted to :P
Now that I am back I'll be writing the Iris sequel with Kim as my co-writer once more, but I'm gonna have to make it snappy since school starts back August 25th and then I will have NO time to write AT ALL. *headdesk* Oh and BTW, this is set somewhere in season five.
Anyways, as for the very end of this one-shot…Danielle, I blame you for it.
Whilst being on the run from Heaven and assisting Sam and Dean in averting the Apocalypse, Castiel had frequently accompanied the two brothers on hunts. Currently Dean was pulling over at a gas station that very well might have been one of his Father's first inventions it was so old. Sam and Dean went inside to pay for gas, leaving Castiel to sit in the backseat. The backseat had become "his" just as much as the passenger's side was Sam's and the driver's seat was Dean's. Flight was faster, less cramped, and lacked the ever present scent of leather and whiskey, but he enjoyed Sam and Dean's company.
A glance through the clear glass windows proved that the boys were held up in a long line of people, presumably all waiting to pay for their automotive fuel with those small flat plastic objects. Dean called them "credit cards." Generally Castiel enjoyed observing humans, especially the actions of his human charges, but somehow he could find none of his usual fascination in watching the two of them stand behind an elderly lady in a floral print dress that was similar to Cas' true form in the sense that it could burn someone's eyes out simply by looking at it. He wished to smite it, but Dean had always advised him not to make displays of his powers. So he waited patiently in the Impala.
Well, he waited patiently until he saw that the line was moving with approximately the same speed as the development of the human race. Very slow, very tedious, and even for an Angel of the Lord, very boring. He sighed and leaned forward on the middle console, a brightness catching his eye. He reached across and plucked a small silver coil from the floorboard to the right of the car, turning it over in his hands with fascination. The late afternoon light caught the metal. Cas found the object somewhat more interesting than the tall African American man currently arguing with the cashier because they were out of his preferred brand of cigarettes. Complex industries, gas stations were.
When Castiel let go of one end of the object, it flipped over and landed on the palm of his other hand. Interesting. He picked it up and let it dangle, the silver spiral hanging in the air. It looked worriedly like one of the clusters of wires that Dean was always having to replace in his car when they "fried" as the human said. He knew how much the hunter fretted over his "baby" and thought that since the two humans were still tied up, he could at least make sure that Dean's car was in working order.
Unbeknownst to the angel, he was holding a Slinky that Sam had purchased as a joke.
He appeared under the car, the pavement hot against his back through his trench coat and dress shirt. The underside of Dean's car was more confusing than three of the hunter's pop culture references combined, but still he took the Slinky and tried to stick it somewhere, thinking that it was a broken piece of Dean's car.
He had successfully wrapped it around some sort of valve when a hand closed around his ankle and drug him out from under the car. Dean was crouched down, his long fingers wrapped around Castiel's ankle, giving the angel a death stare that clearly said "You have five seconds to tell me what you were doing under my car, or I will rip you a new one whether you're an angel or fucking not." Cas wasn't exactly sure what Dean was going to rip him a new one of, but he'd heard the saying before and it seemed befitting in the current predicament.
"Your car was broken," he deadpanned.
Dean snorted and drug Castiel into an upright position. "My car's just fine. If you broke it, I'll hack your balls off with a spork."
"But I found a queer metal object in the floorboard," Cas replied, taking a brief moment to wonder if a "spork" was some sort of modern medicinal tool.
"Queer metal object…I heard queer, so I'm gonna guess it's Sam's."
Sam scowled from beside his brother. "Jerk."
"Bitch."
Dean slid under the car and yanked the Slinky out of the undercarriage before shoving it unceremoniously into Cas' hands, sharing an exasperated look with Sam over the angel's head. Sam got into the car while Dean opened his door to toss his wallet onto the console, leaving Cas alone for a few brief moments. It was long enough for the angel (the none too bright angel, one might add) to suddenly realize where he thought the Slinky would be best suited in spite of Dean's warnings against further interference with the Impala.
Soon Castiel was sitting in the backseat again, listening Sam explain why they had the Slinky in the first place, which was apparently because there had been a poltergeist in a toy store once and the owner had given Sam the Slinky as a thank you for saving his life.
Meanwhile, Dean popped open the small door on the side of the Impala so he could start pumping gas.
However, that plan was effectively cancelled when a familiar Slinky popped out of the gasket and hit Dean square in the face. Sam and Castiel both winced when they heard his outraged scream.
"CAS YOU SON OF A-"
The End