"Oh come on!" Dean mutters.
Why does it seem to rain wherever he goes? It's like there's a cartoon rain cloud following him around. Dean glances over at Cas; like Dean, he's getting soaked, but unlike Dean, he doesn't seem to mind at all.
"Aren't you cold, dude? It's like 40 degrees out."
"No."
Dean shivers, "Figures."
Dean shifts his position and checks on Sam through the viewfinder mounted atop his sniper rifle. Sam pushes back rain-drenched hair and tucks his hands in his pockets. Dean feels something on his shoulders and pulls his finger away from the trigger to keep from shooting Sam in the face. Then he jerks around to see what the hell Cas is doing.
Cas looks at him innocently enough, but he's no longer wearing his trench coat which, ah, is now around Dean's shoulders. Dean shivers violently. Cas glances down at his shirt as if he's considering giving that away, too. Dean follows his gaze, but quickly looks away to avoid staring at the almost see-through material clinging to the angel's chest.
"Um… Thanks," Dean says.
"You're welcome, Dean."
Dean turns back to his rifle and prays that it stops raining soon.
