Dean walked into the motel room, Thalia in his arms, Meg following behind. Sera and Sam were sitting on the bed, Sera shaping Sam's hands around the neck of a bass. Dean's brows furrowed. "What's going on?"

Sam looked up and smiled. "We were talking about instruments and Sera said I had the perfect hands to play bass and I didn't believe her so…she went and got one." He plucked a string. "I've already learned some." He proceeded to start playing out a bass line.

"Wow, um…nice." He placed Thalia back in her carrier. Sera got up off the bed and walked over to Dean. "I was just waiting for you to get back before I left, something I thought I should tell you."

"Yeah?"

"Just thought you should be aware that since these are basically new bodies, your virginity's in tact."

Dean's brows furrowed again, and Sera couldn't help but smile at the confused expression on his feminine face. "How the hell do you know that?"

"Well…Sam was."

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times like he planned to say something, glanced at Sam's mussed hair and then just decided to stay silent. Meg snorted and just said "Hot."

"Oh, it was," said Sam, and Dean put his face in his hands. Sera tapped him on the arm, trying to be comforting. "Just try not to think about it too much, Deanna." She stepped past him to pick up the carrier and looked at Meg. "Did he tell Cas?"

"Nope."

"So he's decided to be stupid?"

"Extremely."

Seraphiel sighed. "Oh well." She walked back over to Sam with Thalia, and he kissed his daughter's head. "Be good, baby."

"No," Thalia said, and they all broke out laughing.

A few days later they were halfway across the country, and Meg was cutting a bullet out of Dean's shoulder.

"Stop flinching, you girl."

"I can't help it, it hurts." He bit his bottom lip as she poured whiskey into his wound and then pulled the bullet out with a pair of forceps. "There we go."

"Thanks."

"Not done yet, sweetheart. Gotta sew it up."

"When are those painkillers gonna kick in?"

"They were supposed to twenty minutes ago. Now hold still." She got out a suturing kit and opened it up, Sam was sitting on one of the beds a few feet away, holding an ice pack to his swollen face. "Still can't believe they even had guns. What kind of super-strong flesh-eating monsters carry firearms? Just seems unfair."

Dean glared at him, "You got clocked and I got a bullet to the shoulder, don't talk to me about fair." He winced as Meg began to sew him up and his phone started going off on the nightstand. Sam reached for it and answered it.

"Hey…Cas? Yeah, it's me." Dean looked up and started to lunge for the phone but Meg held him still and pressed her thumb against his wound, distracting him with pain enough to submit. "What? Dean didn't tell you? We got turned into girls. Yeah, I know, it's weird, but Meg's working on a way to turn us back." He got up and started stepping over to Dean. "A couple months, won't be that long. Find what you need? Cool. Oh, yeah, I can tell you where we are." He relayed their location. Then he reached Dean. "Yeah, he's…she's…right here." He handed the phone over. "It's your boyfriend."

Dean snatched the phone from him with his good hand. "Bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean put the phone to his ear. "Hey Cas. Dammit, Meg!" He snapped.

"Are you being attacked?" He heard Cas ask, extremely concerned. "No," Dean replied. "She's sewing me up. Got shot in the shoulder."

"So you WERE attacked?"

"Yeah but they're all dead now, so relax. Find your relic."

"Yes. I will be there shortly."

"Please don't."

"Why?"

"I…just…please?"

"You are making me very scared for you, Dean."

"Don't be, I just…" He got stuck. Meg whispered in his opposite ear, "Use your words, Dean."

"I don't like being like this and I don't want you to see me…you know…"

"Female?" He heard Cas say, but not just over the phone. Dean glanced up and Cas was in the room with them. He rolled his eyes and hung up his cell phone. Then he took the time to get a good look at his angel. He was still wearing the trench coat but underneath was wearing a tailored three-piece suit. He looked good. Really, really good. He almost didn't noticed the pain in his shoulder or the pull of the needle and thread through his skin.

"What in the world are you wearing?" Dean asked, trying very hard not to sound starstruck. Cas looked down at himself and looked slightly surprised, as if he had forgotten he was wearing it. "I…ran into Elli. She took me shopping."

"How'd you end up running into her?"

"I was in Paris. She was there working on her art."

Sam looked him over, "Is that why you're carrying a portfolio? Did she draw something for you?" He looked at Dean. "And who's Elli?"

Dean glanced up at Cas and then cleared his throat. "She's a…a friend. From when Cas and I were hunting alone. How is she?"

"She is very well. She is now being commissioned for custom works."

"That's…that's good."

Sam removed the ice pack from his face. "Is she any good?" He started reaching for the portfolio, "Can I see?"

Cas pulled away and tucked the portfolio against his chest. "No. I'm sorry, but these are a gift for Dean."

Sam dropped his hand. "Oh, alright." He looked over at Meg. "You almost done?"

"Just a couple more stitches, then we can go do cleanup."

Cas looked at Dean, then stepped over, setting the portfolio on the table and kneeling before his hunter, the trench coat pooling on the floor beneath him. He reached up and put his hand on the side of Dean's face. Dean wanted to pull away, because Sam was there, but Meg was holding him in place, so he just moved into it. "Are you alright?" The angel asked.

"I will be." He winced. "I'll heal. Always do." He breathed in deeply, bracing himself against the pain that was coming against the final stitch, but breathed in nothing but Castiel. He smelled like apple pie, nothing but cinnamon and sugar and pastry. Dean had never noticed before. It had never registered. He suddenly had the urge to eat him up. Dean bit his bottom lip and looked Cas up and down, and couldn't wait until they were alone.

Meg placed a bandage over Dean's wound and then gestured toward the door at Sam, and they quickly extricated themselves from the room. Dean tried to stop them, because he still wasn't comfortable with Cas seeing him like this. Although part of him wanted to tear Cas's clothes off and see just how flexible this body was, the rest of him couldn't bear to look him in the eye. He got so lost in his inner turmoil that he didn't notice they were alone. Cas was still at his feet, his head tilted, staring wide-eyed at Dean like a curious kitten.

"Who did this to you?"

"Some witch down in Shreveport. Meg thinks she was trying to make us unidentifiable so if anyone found our bodies no one would know…"

"Where is she now?"

"Dead. Meg shot her."

"Good."

Dean blinked, "Wow, never seen you happy over a death before."

"This witch tried to hurt you, and tried to make it so that no one you loved would ever know what had really happened. If I had been there, I would have killed her myself."

A smile made it's way across Dean's face, and he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. Good God, he was actually blushing. He put his hand over Cas's, the one that was still against his cheek. "I know you would have. Because you're a badass and you'd do anything for me."

Castiel leaned up and Dean dipped his head so the Angel could plant a kiss on it. Suddenly all the air he breathed in was Cas and that cinnamon scent. Cas used his other hand to run his finger under the strap on Dean's black undershirt, the one that was now torn and stained with blood. Dean full-out shivered when he felt it graze against his skin.

"I could heal that for you," Cas said, looking at his shoulder. "But I already know you're not going to let me."

"Nope."

"Because you enjoy feeling human, even if that means feeling pain."

"You bet."

Cas gave a weak smile and then pulled away from Dean, standing to pull off his trenchcoat and lay it over a chair. He started to pull off his suit jacket but Dean reached out and grabbed his hand. "Stop."

Cas looked at him curiously as he stood, putting his thumbs beneath the lapels and pushing it back. "I want to do it." The angel let his arms fall to his sides, allowing Dean to push the jacket off and let it fall to the floor. Dean starts to undo the buttons on his vest. "That Elli girl…has some amazing taste."

"So the people in the shops kept saying. I'm not quite sure what that means."

"It means she knows what looks good." Dean pulled the vest off of him and then started pulling his shirt out of his pants. "And can appreciate it properly."

"Does that mean I have good taste?"

"What?"

"You look good, and I appreciate it properly." Cas said flatly, and Dean couldn't help but smile. "You have the best taste, Castiel."

He placed his hands on Cas's shoulders, directing him over to the bed and shoving him down on it. "And so do I." He leaned in and started to kiss his angel, slowly straddling his lap. Castiel put his hands on Dean's waist and pushed him away a little. "Are you sure? You seemed incredibly hesitant to even speak to me in this state…"

Yeah, but that was before he caught Cas's scent. Now he couldn't care less. He looked down at his Angel, so much concern on his face, and smiled.

"I'm positive."