A/N: As promised, here's the second chapter.

He had been taken in by a small homeless shelter. Kind people, he could tell, taking him in. They should have some sort of reward. Sitting by himself on the floor, he flew the small, beat-up toy spaceship. He had found it in his pocket, "Pew pew pew!" He cried, zapping some imaginary aliens. A sudden wave of frustration and sadness came over him and he threw the spaceship across the room like a child having a temper tantrum. It hit the tall man who had just walked in on the kneecap.

0o0o0o0o0o

Sam rubbed his kneecap and swore, glaring at the man in a bowtie sitting cross-legged on the floor like a child.

Dean fingered the pendant, it was getting uncomfortably hot. God was nearby.

"What would God be doing in a place fulla hobos? You'd think he'd be in a place that had clean beds." He grumbled to Castiel.

Cas glanced at Dean, "He may be helping them. Has it not occurred to you that God does good?"

While Dean and Cas bickered, Sam was watching the man in a bowtie.

0o0o0o0o0o

"Monsieur Smith!" The young homeless boy ran up to to the man in the bowtie, holding a toy plane, "Could you make it go?" He asked in a heavy French accent.

He grinned, "Sure, Jacques!" He reached into his pocket and brought out a silver tube with a green bulb at the end. Jacques put the plane, which bowtie had also found in his pocket(it was like they were bigger on the inside!). He pointed the thing at the plane and pushed a button. A whirring sound came from it and the toy flew, actually flew, zipping around the room. He and Jacques were having the time of their lives, laughing their heads off.

0o0o0o0o0o

This had attracted the other homeless people's attention, but this was almost a daily event with 'Monsieur Smith' around, as Jacques called him.

This had also caught the attention of the three Americans-well, two and an angel, standing at the door. Sam's face was one of slight surprise, but acceptance. Dean's looked like he couldn't believe that a model airplane, not made to fly, was flying. Castiel looked like all of his dreams, his odd, twisted, angel dreams had come true, and was staring at the man in the bowtie with awe and respect, "It's God."

"Vworp, vworp, vworp!" 'God' said.