The nickname 'Baby in a trenchcoat' that Dean had given the angel was starting to become a true statement. And reasoning for that would be, well, Cas has seriously no idea what he's doing at the moment. What he originally was attempting to do was do something nice for Dean and make this breakfast food called 'pancakes'.
The pictures on the box of perfectly shaped and golden colored pancakes stacked on top of one another made it look so easy, but in reality, they weren't at all easy for the angel to make. He'd tried reading the directions on the back of the box, and he followed all of the instructions, at least he thought he did, and the batter turned out to be way too thick to use.
Cas stared down at the bowl, glaring at it as if it were a human who'd done something terribly wrong. He tilted his head to the side, taking the whisk that he was holding with his opposite hand and stuck it back into the thick batter, stirring it around, but the clumps in the batter were making it quite difficult.
With a sigh of frustration, Cas let the silver whisk fall slack into the batter, and he picked up the box and re-read the instructions all over again. He quickly spotted the problem, he'd forgot to add the milk.
Now it all made sense, of course the batter would be super thick if you forget the milk. The only ingredients that Cas had remembered to add was the pancake mix and the eggs, no milk at all.
He abandoned the bowl and box for a few moments, returning seconds later with the gallon of milk. He'd set the half full gallon down on the counter, and picked up the box and searched for the instructions on how much milk he'd have to add.
Eight ounces of milk, shouldn't be too hard. Cas set the box down once again, wondering over to one of the cabinets in search of a measuring cup, which he quickly found sitting out on the counter instead.
He screwed off the blue cap from the milk gallon and raised up the jug by the handle, picking up the measuring cup in the process and attempting to pour the white fluid in the glass until it hit the eight ounce mark.
Luckily the milk flowed perfectly into the glass, barely hovering above the eight ounce mark. Cas smiled at the accomplishment, and picked up the measuring glass and poured it into the bowl filled with batter. He grabbed ahold of the whisk that was lying astray out on the counter and stuck it back in the bowl, mixing the thick batter in circle motions, delighted with the fact that it was finally thinning down and becoming easier to mix by the second.
Once the batter had been fully whisked and transformed into the thinner substance, it all got complicated again. How was he supposed to cook them?
Cas sighed and looked at the beaten batter, no clue on what he was supposed to do next. With another sigh, he picked up the box again and scanned it with his eyes until he found the section explaining how to cook them.
It said to turn on the stove to number seven, and cook them until they turned golden brown, flipping them frequently.
Cas set the box down, and looked at the stove, how the hell was anything supposed to cook on one of those? There were these round slotted things covering where the heat came out, as far as Cas knew, you couldn't cook anything on one of those.
He was considering giving up and just getting cereal or something, until it clicked, you put a frying pan over the burner and make the pancakes on one of those.
Cas dug around in the cabinets and found a large frying pan that would certainly be able to cook the pancakes on. He turned on the burner to the instructed temperature, and placed the pan on top of it and waited for it to heat up.
Eventually the pan became hot enough for use, and Cas got stuck on the next step, again. How was he supposed to get the pancakes into the pan?
A ladle could probably do it, Cas thought. So he hunted for a ladle a quickly found one. He carefully dipped the ladle into the bowl of batter, scooping up a medium portion in the ladle and pouring it onto the pan. The batter rolled onto the pan just fine, but when it got on the pan, it kind of swished itself everywhere and would end up cooking in to a deformed shape.
Cas didn't really care about that part for now, hopefully they would taste alright.
He tried again and poured more batter into the pan, and the same thing happened. He was getting pretty frustrated by now, why was this so complicated?
Every pancake he'd made that morning all turned out the same as the first, they were all mishaped and odd looking, they hardly even looked like pancakes in the first place.
Cas didn't have enough time to try and make a different batch, because it was already almost twelve o'clock, and Dean would be awake soon. He quickly stacked the deformed pancakes onto a plate, covering them with butter and syrup in the process, and pouring a glass of milk from the gallon he'd left out.
He picked up the plate and grabbed a fork and got the milk too, and began to walk out of the kitchen to the room Dean was in, but speaking of Dean, he almost ran into him on the way.
"Cas, what are you..." Dean trailed off, looking at the stack of weird shaped pancakes that Cas was holding.
"I made you some pancakes, Dean." Cas said, smiling nervously. Dean's face softened, and he looked again at the pancakes.
"Thanks Cas." Dean said, taking the plate and setting it down on the table, along with the milk. He placed his hands on Cas' shoulders and leaned forward, softly kissing him on the lips.
Cas smiled once Dean pulled away, and looked at the stack of pancakes once again.
Human things sure were complicated.