Needless to say, Dean sulked (manly sulking, damn it!) for the better part of a week. It had gotten to a point where Sam found himself wishing the Leviathan would at least show up once. If only to shut the demon in the next room up for a while.

Sam spent most of his own time flitting around the country (doing God knows what (pun intended)) to alleviate some of his boredom, often times overshooting his destination by a good fifty miles or so (not including that time he wound up in Manchester* by accident. That had been awkward).

But anyway, he tried to avoid which ever motel the demon had commandeered that week whenever he could. Leaving Dean to mope about a sea monster he thought was pretty. Because that wasn't at all strange in any way. And the only times he actively went round to check up on him, had been the couple of instances where the demon had gotten lazy and been on the verge of an exorcism courtesy of a local hunter.

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It was a Thursday when Dean had finally come out of his intense sulking marathon long enough for Sam to tolerate his presence. The two found themselves at a diner down the street from Dean's current motel and, while neither of them really needed to eat, it didn't mean they couldn't enjoy themselves. The demon on one side of the booth and just finished placing his order for any fried, artery clogging thing on the menu (Sam had stuck with a salad) when the door chimed open. With a flash of tan and black, Dean choked on his mouthful of whatever it was he had shoved into his mouth, causing Sam to turn in his seat and choke on the unnecessary breath of air he'd just taken.

Entering the diner in a flurry of cool autumn air, was it. The Leviathan who had taken to calling itself 'Cas', breezed in with the kind of fluidity and grace that can only be achieved by living a few hundred millennium. Icy blue eyes found their table almost instantly and the stoic face was momentarily replaced with the same eerie grin from the last time they had met. The Leviathan made its way over and slide into the bench beside Sam (who flinched and scooted over as far as he could without becoming part of the wall), eyes watching Dean carefully.

'Hello Dean.' he said.

Said demon had managed to dislodge the chunk of food from his windpipe and swallowed heavily.

'Hey, Cas.'

The Leviathan trained his gaze towards Sam now.

'I don't believe I was ever told your name. That's rather rude, you know. I told you mine.'

Sam refused to answer. Dean frowned.

'Don't worry about Sam, Cas. He's shy.' the demon explained. Sam spluttered, biting out that, no, he was not shy and that he wasn't keen on telling any age-old sea monster his name. The Leviathan just looked smug.

'Sam?' the Leviathan tested out the new name, making it sound dirty enough to make the angel next to it shudder in revulsion. 'Really? You don't feel much like a Sam, angel. More like a S-'

'Shut up.' the angel in question said quickly as he'd realized what the creature seated next to him had begun to say. Dean, remaining unaware of the tension between the two in front of him, brought the attention back to himself.

'So, Cas, where've you been, man?'

'Oh, here and there. I had some... business to take care of. But I've been meaning to speak with you for some time now.'

Dean looked extremely giddy at this statement and then quickly smothered it in an attempt to look cool.

'About-' he cleared his throat. 'About what?'

'You asked me to come with you. The two of you. I've decided I will.'

Sam shrieked, 'What?' at the same time Dean jumped up onto booth and whooped loudly, causing a family of four to pointedly exit the diner halfway through their meal. The angel grimaced and tugged the demon back into a sitting position where he continued to beam. The Leviathan smiled in what it probably assumed was a very pleasant manner when in actuality the (quite frankly) terrifying grin plastered on its face only managed to scare away several more customers.

'Oh man, Cas, this is- this is great! You won't regret it. Sammy and I are awesome. Well, I am. Feathers over there can be a bit... y'know**.' Dean said. Sam sent another Holy Bitch Face in his direction. It was around here that the owner came out and asked them to leave, as they had managed to scare off most of the other patrons in the diner.

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*He landed in the middle of the road and nearly been run over by some nut case driving a black Bentley.

**For the record, he didn't.

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Annnd scene! Um, not seriously happy with this, but hopefully it will get better. I haven't touched this much in a very very long time and Real Life has been kicking me in the face for a while so my interest has been waning in this fic and I hope getting this up might make me a bit more invested. This chapter is also pathetically short.

Reviews and criticisms are loved and appreciated!

And, yes, Good Omens reference is blatantly obvious.