Dean's phone rang halfway through the dairy aisle, the familiar rock music riff interrupting the horrific muzak - Celine Dion? Really? - playing over the speakers. "Yeah?"

Cas' familiar voice spilled out in a grainy rumble. "Hello, Dean."

He grinned. Dean Winchester actually grinned in the dairy aisle. Which was definitely because of the idea of organic, free range milk costing three times the price of normal milk. Who wouldn't laugh? And laughing at something Cas couldn't see wasn't fair, so of course he bit it back into a semi-straight face. "Heya, Cas."

The quiet sound of hissing nothingness came from the other side of the phone.

"Cas? What's up?"

"Oh." Another awkward pause, then, "I don't… I don't have a plan for this conversation." A beat. Two. "Your father isn't here."

"Uh… That's good."

A rustle, as though Cas nodded against the phone. "Yes."

Dean turned, leaning against the shelves behind him and stifling a grimace as it jostled a sore muscle the wrong way. Resting his head against the shelf was easier, closing his eyes easier still. He really should have been focused on shopping… but if he looked at one more ingredient list in tiny print, his exhausted, already stinging eyes might just throw in the towel, so, instead, he asked, "How's our guest?"

"Last I heard, your father was well, Dean."

It said something about their interactions that Dean didn't even feel that surprised at the answer. "The cow, Cas. The cow."

"Oh." A pause, followed by the sound of a door - the familiar sound of a creaky hinge made it abundantly clear that Cas was opening the door to Dean's room - and the over-the-phone sound of a quiet moo. "Cow is well."

"Cow?"

"Cow."

He nicknames the cow… Cow. Of course he does. "Right."

"It burped, Dean. Half an hour ago."

Dean nodded, fighting another grin. (Because of a conversation some people nearby were having, of course. The stock exchange would never not be funny.) "That's… that's good to know, Cas."

"Cow, say hello to Dean."

"Cas… We've talked about this. It's a cow." Uncomprehending silence from Cas' side of the phone. "It doesn't talk."

"It just did, Dean."

"It's a cow, Cas. It burps. It doesn't talk. "

"I don't understand. You burp all the time. It doesn't stop you from talking."

Dean might have been offended if it didn't sound so damn genuine, so, another fond head shake aside, he merely added, "Sure, Cas, but it's a cow."

That quiet, hissing speaker returned, nothing but background noise coming from the other side.

"Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Um…" Dean cleared his throat, trying to break the… not awkward, but unusual silence. "You, uh, call for a reason?"

"Oh. Yes, I did."

Dean waited for a response. None came. "You wanna elaborate on that?"

"I do not especially desire a continuation of that statement, no."

"Uh… okay." The stock brokers - or whoever they were - stood, arms crossed, a few feet away, eyeing Dean's motionless, aisle-blocking basket. Normally, Dean would tell them to go screw themselves, but he didn't have the energy for a fight. Of course, nor did he have the energy for multitasking, so something had to give. "Well, I'm at the store-"

"And?"

"Uh… I'm getting milk. And I'm stopping by the animal feed story later for hay-"

"Milk? Why do we need milk?" A pause, but not long enough of one for Dean to answer, followed by, "Dean? We have a cow. Why do we need milk?"

"For the cow, Cas."

Dean could hear the gentle short-circuiting of Cas' latest train of thought. "I thought cows needed food."

"Uh… yeah." Dean nodded, knowing full well that Cas couldn't see it, and yet needing the gesture to ground himself. "Like milk."

"You can't feed a cow milk, Dean!"

He sounded so offended by the idea, that Dean almost regretted even bringing it up, and yet, "Cas, that's… that's why cows make milk, man. To feed the babies."

"It doesn't feel right. That would upset the natural order. It's against cow rules, Dean. It can't happen."

Dean stifled another laugh. "It's literally the purpose of milk."

"I thought milk was for your bones?"

"That's… that's humans, Cas." Another pause. "I thought we established that humans aren't cows."

"As you've said-" He broke off, coming back a few seconds later with, "Dean, your father is here."

The dairy aisle's refrigeration took on a much cooler feel, spreading in cold shocks down his spine. "What." It wasn't an actual question, even if it sounded like one.

Of course, Cas responded literally. "Your father, Dean. He's at the door. Don't worry, I'll let him in."