Title A Trip to the Roadhouse

Disclaimer Me no own, you no sue

Warning AU, crack-ish

Note Does not follow the show's timeline.

-z-

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Dean asked for the hundredth time, raising his eyebrows at Castiel.

The angel said nothing as he exited the Impala.

"That's what I thought," Dean muttered to himself as Castiel followed him into Harvelle's Roadhouse.

The bar abruptly went quiet the moment Dean Winchester's boot crossed the threshold, Castiel following at his right.

"You've got a lot of nerve showing up here, boy," a Hunter Dean didn't recognize stood up.

"Are you sure this is still a good idea?" Dean never took his eyes off the older man standing not more than four feet away from him.

Castiel continued to say nothing as he guided Dean towards the bar, a gentle hand on the small of Dean's back. Ellen Harvelle stood behind the counter; her lips nothing more than a tight line as she leveled a harsh glare at the two men.

"What are you doing here, Dean?" she didn't even spare a glance in Castiel's direction.

"I'd tell you if I knew," Dean shot a look to the angel at his side.

Castiel took a seat at the bar stool and maintained his silence.

Dean shook his head in annoyance.

"Hey!" the Hunter grabbed the shoulder of Dean's coat and spun him around.

Before Dean could even blink, Castiel was standing between him and the indignant Hunter.

The bar suddenly began to crackle with energy as Hunters all around began to draw and ready their weapons – aiming them at Dean and Castiel.

"Way to go, Cas, really."

The angel gave him an innocent look over his shoulder.

"Just because bullets don't hurt you-," Dean sneered.

"Have faith," Castiel broke his silence as he turned back to the angry guns.

There was a soft whisper as Castiel raised a hand, putting everyone except Dean and Ellen into a peaceful sleep.

"Dean?" there was a warning note in Ellen's voice.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the angel and watched with an open mouth as Castiel retook his seat at the bar.

"Two whiskeys, if you would be so kind," Castiel said politely.

Dean continued to gape.

"Close your mouth before you catch a fly. Really, I know John taught you better than that."

Dean's mouth snapped shut.

Ellen procured the ordered drinks cautiously, keeping a wary eye on the strange man sitting at her bar.

"Are angels allowed to drink alcohol?" Dean quipped as he took a seat next to Castiel.

The angel shot him a sideways glare as he threw back the drink.

Ellen's eyes almost popped out of her skull.

"Just drink, Dean, you need it."

Dean didn't have to be told twice. He threw back his own shot before he whirled on Castiel, realization suddenly dawning.

"Is that what this is all about?" he demanded.

Castiel's blank expression said it all.

"You're psychotic."

"No, Dean, I'm thirsty," he turned to Ellen. "Another, please."

-z-