STUFFING
WOW: wash. Certain aspects of Thanksgiving raise some troubling images for Jack. What a good job Castiel is there to educate him...
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
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"Castiel?"
Castiel turned as Jack walked up behind him, in the bunker's main hall.
"Why is Dean in the kitchen with his hand stuck up the rectum of a dead bird?"
Castiel smiled, and patted the confused Nephilim on the shouldler. "He is stuffing the turkey for Thanksgiving dinner," Castiel replied. "It is a strange custom, but it's very delicious. I'm sure you will enjoy it when he has finished cooking."
Later that evening, Dean sat back in his chair, smiling warmly as he looked across the dinner table at his gathered family. At Sam eagerly availing himself of the last scraps of roast turkey and cranberry jelly; at Jack filling his smiling face full of fluffy, butter-laden mashed potato and at Castiel quietly nibbling on a bread roll as he watched the happy gathering.
Dean patted his bulging belly, full of expertly roasted Thanksgiving turkey washed down with gallons of his favourite beer.
"That was awesome," he groaned contentedly; "I couldn't eat another thing. I'm stuffed!"
Jack turned to Castiel, his head cocked quizzically as he tried to process what he had heard. "Castiel, Did someone stick their hand up …"
"No, Jack," Castiel replied calmly. "No, they didn't."
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end