A/N: DO NOT OWN. Dammit, Misha. Set post season 5, so, spoilers through then.

ooo

"Let us watch the stars together, brother," said Castiel.

The angel looked out over the vastness of Creation. "I do not see any that are out of place. Is not the time for omens past?"

"Only our Father knows."

The angel carefully scanned the heavens. Time in Heaven being what it was, he was soon done. "Every heavenly body is in its proper place, Castiel."

Castiel did not put the illusion of hands into the manifestation of trenchcoat pockets. Nor did he sigh. They were both pure spirits. He said, "Thank you."

The angel did not evidence any reaction to the mild sarcasm in Castiel's voice. The task being done, and acknowledged, the angel departed to whatever duties he had on hand.

ooo

Castiel spread his wings and descended through levels of reality until he reached the solid and gritty one that most of its inhabitants called Earth.

It was early evening there, and the sun was a red band on the horizon. The few stars that were out were drowned by artificial lights. Children were playing an intricate game with a stick and ball. Castiel settled himself on the bleacher seat.

In front of him, a man leaned forward, intent on the play being made. "Go long.... c'mon.... YES!"

"He caught the ball well?" Castiel inquired. Angels knew many things, but the facts of baseball did not explain why it was important or indeed, interesting.

"That's my boy," the man grinned over his shoulder then blinked. His smile faded a little. "Cas? Everything okay up there?"

"Heaven still sucks, but to answer your question, yes, it is okay. Hello, Dean."

Dean Winchester hesitated, glanced to the field, then turned slightly towards Castiel. "So are you really running things up there now?"

The tone of voice lacked enthusiasm, but Castiel did not expect Dean to be much interested in Heaven as long as it remained uninterested in him. "They keep expecting me to tell them what to do."

"Easier than thinking," Dean commented. The children out on the field ran in and the children in the other uniforms ran out. He waved at the boy Ben, then turned all the way around to face Castiel. "So what brings you here? I thought I was out of the destiny business."

"I know nothing to the contrary, Dean." He looked into the man's face. He knew it better than any other, and yet often Dean still surprised him with the complexity of his reactions. "I simply wished to see you."

Dean's eyebrows went up, his lips pursed. He offered Castiel a can. "Do archangels drink sodas? Sorry, no beer at Little League. Unless you can turn it into beer."

Castiel knew this was not meant seriously, but he replied as expected, "That would not be appropriate, Dean." He took the can and opened it. The fizzy liquid inside did not seem to qualify as nourishment in any sense. The children might do better to drink beer.

Castiel drank the soda anyway. "Who is winning? And how do you tell?" A man nearby turned and looked at him incredulously.

Dean flashed the man a smile. "Friend from Finland. Doesn't know baseball from reindeer poop." He moved up to sit beside Castiel. "The object of the game is to hit the ball as far as you can then get home safe before they catch up with you," Dean began explaining.

Castiel smiled. How very human.

ooo

The End