ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS: At this time, I'd like you to direct your attention to the front cabin where one of our attendants will instruct you of what to do in case of an emergency during the flight.

Before the plane could even take off, Dean had been white knuckling the armrests of his seat with great intensity. The side of his cheek was raw from constant chewing. He tightly clenched his jaw and watched carefully as the woman in the front clipped and unclipped a belt, not much different from the one that currently suffocated him. Dean drew in a long shaky breath and rubbed his calloused hands on his face.

"Stop being such a pussy…" Dean whispered to himself. "It's just a plane. A metal contraption filled with people that somehow disobeys the laws of physics and allows us to fly a billion feet in the air. No biggie." As he attempted to slow his breathing, a woman waltzed down the aisle, orange luggage in hand and bad spray on tan to match the luggage. She pranced in her too-high heels, examining seat numbers for her own familiar number. Slightly distracted from his flying anxiety, Dean flashed the woman his most genuine-looking smile, which she returned as she approached his row.

"5A. That's me!" She pointed over-excitedly, gesturing to the window seat beside him. Dean quickly stood up and offered to put her luggage in the above head storage, as she scooted by him. A whiff of overbearing perfume smacked him in the face in the process. If this doesn't get me laid in an airplane bathroom, I'm gonna be freakin' pissed, he thought to himself. After he roughly forced the baggage into storage, Dean slumped into his seat, quickly being bombarded with rapid gum chewing and blond curl twirling. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her perfume once again to the point that he turned his head to the aisle and let out the quietest cough he could muster. It suddenly hit him again about where exactly he was and what exactly he was about to do. Fly. He grabbed the edges of the seat again, and attempted to make conversation.

"So, where ya headed?" She turned to him and blurted out with a huge, obnoxious smile, "My parents. Headed home for Christmas break. I haven't really had much time with them because of school and stuff. Oh my god, I missed them so much. You know what else? I'm super hungry. I definitely should have grabbed something before I got on the flight. I wonder what they have on the plane. Do you know if they take credit cards? It's somewhere in my purse. OH MY GOD. FUNNY STORY ABOUT THAT ACTUALLY. One time, I was looking for my card and…" Dean began to regret the decision of sparking up this conversation. This was going to be a long ride back to Virginia, most likely filled with constant nods and fake interest in what she drones on about. Damnit, he muttered under his breath. She stopped mid sentence and asked,

"Everything alright? You forget something at home? Your phone dying? Oh, man, when my phone dies, I go absolutely bonkers." She laughed to herself, until she inhaled sharply and a childish grin made its way across her face, "IT'S A GIRL, ISN'T IT?" Dean chuckled and shook his head back and forth. She continued to speak, not allowing him to get a word out even if he wanted to, "It is. I can tell. I mutter things to myself when I'm annoyed at my fiancé. Man, he just loves to push my buttons. I TELL YA. You know what he did the other day? He-" Dean slapped a hand to his head and thought to himself as the girl rambled, Well, this sucks. I'm gonna have to sit through this entire flight with Chatty Kathy and I won't even get a hookup in the bathroom. Flying sucks.

The woman, completely oblivious to the utter disinterest that lay upon Dean's face, continued to talk, even when it was obvious that he wasn't listening. Her story was interrupted by the stirring of the airplane and the crackling of the loud speaker:

Attention passengers: American Airlines Flight number 283 will be taking off momentarily. Please remain seated until the 'Fasten Seatbelts' sign is not illuminated any more. Thank you for choosing American Airlines.

"I'm Lola, by the way. And you are?" "Dean." Lola's mouth formed the shape of a perfect O as she fangirled about the fact that he cousin's name is Dean, too. He rubbed his temples with his thumb and middle finger, suppressing the urge to tell the woman that she needs to stop talking. Before he could say a word, a man with brown sable hair and soft blue eyes interrupted them.

"Excuse me, miss? Would you mind doing me a huge favor? I get really bad anxiety if I don't have a window seat and it was too late to exchange it at the front desk before the flight. Is it too much to ask to switch seats with me? I'm just over at 8C. It would make such a difference. I just don't want to cause an inconvenience to all these people if I get sick, ya know?" She closed her eyes and nodded her head slowly before she spoke.

"Honey, I know exactly what you're going through. My sister was the same way. Say no more." Dean tried to hide his hint of joy that Lola would be away from him for the duration of the flight. Hallelujah… he thought. Suffocated with her perfume and curls hopefully for the last time, Dean stood up, letting the man pass and sit in the freshly unoccupied seat. Before leaving, Lola turned and grabbed Dean's arm slightly and looked him in the eye. She slipped a piece of paper with numerous scribbles on it as she said,

"If you ever want help with that girl problem, let me know." He half-heartedly flashed a smile, and off she went to her seat. Learning from past experiences, he made no attempt to make conversation with his new row mate. He could only pray that this one was better than the last neighbor. The silence was broken first by the man, who uttered something barely even audible. Dean turned to him, confused, "You say something?"

The man looked at him with a devilish smirk. "I said, you're welcome." Dean brought his hand to his face and began to chuckle softly, as not to hint that they were talking about the woman who resided three rows behind them. "The name's Cas. Or you could call me Savior for getting you out of talking for 6 hours with The Blond, The Busty, And the Orange." They shook hands and Dean, while still laughing, said, "I'm Dean…and thanks." They exchanged the works: how are yous, where you froms, and a few snarky remarks about Lola here and there. They didn't mean any harm, but it was just too easy. It wasn't until they got to the "where are you headeds" that they ever actually talked about themselves to each other personally.

"Yeah, I'm headed to Virginia Beach to see my brother, Sammy, for Christmas. He doesn't know I'm coming so it should be an interesting surprise." He laughed at himself. Cas laughed along.

"I'm actually going to Virginia Beach, too. How funny is that? Just for vacation though. Think I'm gonna find a hotel and just hang out." "Are you meeting anyone?" "Nope, just me, myself, and I." Dean bit his lip and thought about what he was about to do. He barely even knows this guy. Does he dare invite him to stay at his brother's house when his brother doesn't even know he's coming? Of course not. He dismissed the idea in his head, but not the idea that he wanted to keep in touch. There was definitely some kind of connection, but he just wasn't exactly sure what was going on with himself. Whatever. At least his flying anxiety was gone.

Dean adjusted himself in his seat and crossed his arms, his signature sleeping position. He motioned to Cas to shut the window blind. "I'm gonna get some shut eye." Cas nodded and Dean closed his eyes in an effort to sleep.

There was a slight jerk in the plane's movement, enough to stir Dean from his slumber, only to wake up and find himself leaning on Cas's right shoulder, a slight dribble of drool trailing down his chin. His face flushed bright red. However; Cas had headphones on, but his eyes were closed, making it hard to tell whether he was just listening to music or he passed out, so the potential embarrassment lingered but was not 100% concrete. He moved his finger towards Cas's cheek and violently poked him to see. Whether he was sleeping or awake, he sure was awake now. Dean let out a hearty laugh, which Cas soon followed.

"Sorry, I kinda fell asleep on you and drooled a lot. You coulda just push me off, ya know." He laughed again. He hadn't laughed this much in a while, it seemed like. Cas just brushed off the account, "Eh, didn't really matter. I didn't mind. Plus, you needed some rest after Lola exercised your ear for a decent half hour." "Yeah, you're right. Haha," he answered.

The remainder of the flight was easy, exchanging stories and favorite songs, which coincidently, they had relatively the same music taste. Dean's was a tie between Led Zeppelin's "Ramble On" and "Traveling Riverside Blues". Cas's: Anything AC/DC. Everything was buddy-buddy until turbulence. At the instance of a tremor, Dean's flying anxiety came rushing back. As he went to clutch onto the arm rest, he managed to grab Cas's hand in the process. He apologized, but neither of them made an effort to pull away. As the turbulence subsided, embarrassment set it in and color rushed to both of their faces. Cas bit his lip and looked out the window and Dean clenched his jaw, not wanting to making eye contact. Both took a deep breath simultaneously.

He quickly undid his seatbelt and made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the water and splashed his face before glancing up at the mirror and watching individual beads glide down and drop off of his face. What the hell is wrong with me? I am not gay. He shook his body in an effort to shake away everything that had happened on this stupid flight. He braced himself, put on the manliest Dean Winchester expression he could muster, and began to walk to his seat. However, something was different. What was a handsome blue-eyed man that enjoyed AC/DC was not anymore. What replaced him was Lola, who, as always, was overexcited to see him.

"LOOK WHO'S BACK. Well, back even though there's only like 10 minutes left in the flight. Attendants rechecked our tickets and told us to go back to our seats. So I get to talk to you again!" Dean smiled and hid the tinge of disappointment behind it. As he sat down, the familiar sound of the loud speaker began to crackle again:

Attention Passengers. We will be landing in approximately 8 minutes. Please sit down and refasten your seatbelts if they aren't already. Do not get up or exit the aircraft, until the flight attendants permit you to do so. Thank you and I hope you enjoyed your ride with American Airlines.

Dean sat down and searched for Cas, but among the bustling heads, he was nowhere to be seen in his field of vision. He sat tight until the wheels made contact with the ground and the entire plane shook. They were safe on the ground once again. The plane slowed and the attendants instructed everyone to get their luggage from the overhead storage. Dean helped Lola, and immediately turned around to look for Cas, only to be disappointed by the bumbling beeline that had already made it half way out of the door. Upset, Dean grabbed his bags and headed out of the plane.

He made his way to the baggage claim to find his larger suitcase, only to be interrupted by a squeaky voice with words cut short by bubble gum chomps and clacking too-high heels on cheap linoleum floors. Lola ran over to Dean to say her final goodbyes thank god. She wrapped her arms around Dean and spoke in a rapid tone about how much she's going to miss him and how he'd better give her a call to check in on his "girl problem". As she backed away, she screamed and made the signature O face she made every time she uttered the words, "Oh my god!" which she did quite frequently. Lola began to rifle through her purse and pulled out a piece of paper, crumpled under the impact of lord knows what she has in that purse. She spoke carefully,

"Cas told me to give this to you when we were switching back our seats. I gotta go now. Goodbye Dean!" and she flashed her ever famous smile. Dean's heart quickened at the feel of the paper in his hands. He quickly unfolded it to reveal a message scrawled in blue ink:

Holiday Inn – Atlantic & 21st street. Meet me there. - Cas