AN: Insomnia plus a day off plus stuck waiting in the car while my dad has a doctor's appointment (COVID restrictions mean I can't go in) equals another chapter here. I know I was going to stop at one, but...

These are so fun to write, there may end up as many as five, because that seems to be my default.

For printandpolish, who recently had a birthday.

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"...where the deeeeeeeer and the antelope plaaaaaaaay..." floated down the hall of the bunker.

Jack winced at the discordant sound. "Are you sure they're going to be okay?" he asked worriedly. He'd heard Dean singing before, and twice had caught Sam singing softly when he didn't know Jack was there, but that had sounded much, much nicer than the noise they were making now.

"Yes, all the lore says that fairy dust eventually wears off with no long term effects on humans." Cas didn't sound irritated or impatient, even though it wasn't the first time Jack had asked. A bit of the tight knot of guilt inside him loosened. Cas had that affect on him.

"They will be...silly for a while, and we'll need to keep an eye on them to make sure they don't do anything to put themselves in danger," Cas explained further. Though he didn't sound worried, Jack noted that he still had a line between his brows. "Then they will sleep for a while, and when they awake they will be themselves again. They may feel a bit ill for a while, but it is not dangerous."

Jack was grateful that Cas didn't try to keep details from him. He knew the others sometimes did that to try to protect him, but it usually just made him feel worse. "I'm sorry." Guilt swamped Jack again. "I didn't know what it was."

Cas gave Jack a small smile as the song wrapped up in the kitchen. Jack really hoped they wouldn't start again. "You did nothing wrong, Jack. It looked like an ordinary paperweight. None of us had any idea there was fairy dust inside. Anyone could have dropped it. Sam and Dean won't blame you, either."

"Okay." Jack did feel a little better. When Dean had first taken off his shoes and started sliding around and making weird poses, claiming he was "skating," and Sam had decided to wear a chair on his back because "I'm an archelon," Jack had panicked. Luckily, Jack and Cas weren't affected by the fairy dust, which Cas had been able to identify.

A muffled thunk came from the kitchen, followed by a skirl of laughter, then a metallic crash.

Cas and Jack ran flat out toward the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were huddled in the corner behind the table with stock pots on their heads. Dean was brandishing a meat cleaver while Sam held out a ladle like a sword and a large wok like a shield. A knife quivered in the ceiling and several pans were on the floor.

"Look out! They're behind you!" yelled Dean in warning.

Castiel's eyes widened in alarm and he dove forward, taking Jack down to the floor with him -- and just in time. Dean's cleaver flew over their heads, followed by Sam's ladle.

"Did we get it?" asked Sam, sounding worried. "I can't see them," he confided to Cas and Jack.

"No, I think we missed." Dean scowled. He stood and perused the knives still in the block. "Have you seen them?" he asked over his shoulder. To himself, he muttered, complaining about how they got in the bunker and debating what knife he should try next.

Cas stood and laid a hand on Dean's arm, looking slightly alarmed. "Perhaps I can help you figure out the best, er, way to address it."

Dean extracted a long knife with little teeth. "The kittens, Cas." Dean said kittens with the same inflection that he might have said serial killer. "They're blue and like...like those pretend vampires." He shuddered. "They sparkle."

"I bet a gun would work," said Sam, heading out the door.

Now Cas looked highly alarmed. "No, uh, guns don't work on them at all. In fact, um, shooting them makes them, um, grow."

Jack looked at Cas curiously. "Cas, I don't see --"

Cas shook his head sharply and Jack thought he understood. He'd learned that sometimes they had to lie for the greater good, though that was usually in their jobs. He was pretty sure the reason Castiel was lying now was to keep the Winchesters away from the weapons.

Cas stared hard at Jack, and Jack wished that he could hear what his adopted father was thinking. "Actually, Jack can take care of them with his powers." He stared harder. "Right, Jack?"

Jack watched as Cas tried to ease the knife out of Dean's hand, looked at the knife sticking out of the ceiling, and at the intent look on Sam's face. "Yes, I can. Um, there, it's done."

"Are you sure?" Dean looked suspicious, but let Cas take the knife away.

Jack licked his lips. He wasn't very good at lying. "I can promise that there aren't any, um, sparkling kittens in the bunker. You can take those off your heads now."

Sam put a hand over the pot on his head like someone was trying to take it away. "We need our helmets for safety, Jack." He sounded like an angry toddler, which was odd, considering just how big he was.

"Okay."

"We need a hunt!" declared Dean, stepping into the hall with his brother.

Cas leaned close to Jack and spoke softly enough that humans couldn't hear. "We have to find a place to keep them where they aren't any weapons!"

That was harder than it sounded. There were weapons of all kinds stashed around the bunker, and Sam and Dean knew where they all were. Jack knew there was even a gun in every bathroom, because of what Dean called, "a really unfortunate incident in Albuquerque" that neither he nor Sam would explain further.

Maybe outdoors? It was sunny and pleasant out. But they'd also need a distraction, Jack thought. Sam and Dean were already wandering away with Cas trailing them. Sam was talking excitedly about finding something called...a golden snitch?

Suddenly, Jack had an idea. He and Sam had gone into town a few days earlier, and Jack had seen something he really wanted. Sam had bought it with smile.

"I know what to do," announced Jack. He felt happy that he could help, especially since Cas was looking very stressed again, trying to convince Sam and Dean that scaling the book shelves was unnecessary and a really bad idea. "Cas, can you get them outside?"

"Yes, I can." The angel had a firm grip on one of each of his friend's arms.

"I'll be right there!" Jack promised. He ran toward his room to the sound of Cas trying to explain why they would not need their "helmets" outside.

Cas must have won the argument, because the pots were nowhere in sight when Jack met them in the clearing near one exit of the bunker.

Dean was studying a...grasshopper, Jack thought it was, that he held in one hand. Sam was staring vacantly at the clouds.

At least until Jack dipped the bubble wand into the solution and gently blew a bunch of bubbles. Sam brightened immediately, and reached for the wand. Jack handed it over readily, but kept hold of the gallon jug of soapy solution just in case.

Sam began to blow bubbles, completely captivated by the activity. Dean discarded the insect and began chasing down and popping all the bubbles he could.

Sam laughed aloud at the sight. A bubble landed on his nose, and he looked at it crosseyed until Dean leaned over and touched the bubble, popping it in Sam's face. That made Dean laugh.

The line between Cas' eyebrows was gone. "Good job, Jack," he said softly.

A warm feeling expanded in Jack's stomach, like a joy bubble. "They look happy."

Cas smiled at the sight of Sam and Dean playing with bubbles. "Yes, they do."