Eventually, Dean managed to coax Cas away from the fridge - minus the third beer, though, for a moment, he thought they'd end up fighting over it… which, of course, certainly wouldn't have been the end of the world because they were roommates and they totally fought all the time and he wasn't bothered by it at all - and back into Samantha's room. He barely managed to smuggle the two beers - one for Bobby, as per his invitation, and one for himself because no way could he get through this without it - back into the room without Cas remanding it for thei- the cow. (The. Not their. That would be ridiculous.)

Bobby - thank heavens, because at least somebody else was sane when discussing the cow - was actually professional about the whole thing, looking her over briefly before stepping back. "Well, she's certainly healthy… good size fer her height-"

Cas started grinning almost immediately, nodding with enough vigor that Dean just knew he was going to say something particularly Cas. "She's very smart, too."

Bobby looked from Cas to the cow and back again. "Smart?"

Which… okay, Cas being Cas was great and all - er… uh… Cas being Cas was one thing… of course. That was what he said. Obviously. They were roommates. Why would the other even be a possibility? - but things could only go so far in front of Dean's professor. (Not that it meant anything whatsoever, but Dean also swiftly became glad that sentence wouldn't be taken out of context.) "Cas, don't you da-"

He dared. "She can talk! And she knows tricks and she- she can-"

Bobby actually had the grace to nod. "Dean mentioned the talkin-"

Which was just about the worst thing he could possibly have said because then Cas was whirling on Dean with a triumphant grin (that was not simultaneously adorable and frustrating) and near-shouting, "I knew you knew she could talk, Dean! I win!"

To Dean's immense relief, Bobby just moved past it. "But… and I'm gonna regret askin', but… Tricks?" (Which was about when Dean's immense relief disappeared.)

Cas, however, was clearly more than happy to elaborate. "Tricks! She brought Dean the keys to his handcuffs-" Bobby blinked and took a swig from his beer. "-after which I taught her other stuff with animal crackers! About keys and how to bring them and how she can sit and bark- er, moo, and-"

Dean kinda had to address that before things could get too far into misconception, so: "Don't ask about the-"

No such luck. "Handcuffs…?"

"Well…" For a second, Dean actually had hope that Cas wasn't going to go on. (Clearly, Dean was a bit on the oblivious, in-denial side of things when it came to Cas. Er, and the cow. Cas talking about the cow. Cas and all things cow-related. Just that. Of course.) "He was handcuffed because he wouldn't sit down and I wanted to show him something-"

Dean really couldn't be held responsible for his eye-roll there because… well, reasons. "Fashion shows are apparently life and death matters around here."

Cas nodded solemnly. "They really are."

Bobby hummed around his beer, then asked, "And were you… PG-13 in front o' the cow, Cas?"

Which, no, Dean did not need his professor thinking anything along those lines. Ever. So of course he interrupted to rebut that… and no, he wasn't at all defensive. At all. "No, no, no, not like… that… It was Samantha. He dressed her up, an-and Charlie was here-"

"Okay, okay, that's enough, I don't need to hear any more." Bobby shook his head and gestured towards the cow. "Let's focus on th' damn cow."

Cas blinked. "She's not a 'damn cow'... she's our child." And then he was hugging the cow - which, honestly, was not as much of a surprise as maybe it should have been - and staring at Dean (which, of course, had no effect on him because why would it?).

"Uh huh, sure she is." Bobby quite conveniently ignored Dean's expression - which was probably a blend between confused and… well… not defensive, but explanatory - and nodded. "Anyway, as fer this place… When Dean said y'all had a cow livin' in the house, I'd anticipated… much worse than this… She's a miniature cow, yeah?"

Dean nodded. "According to Cas, yeah."

"Then you've got a decent amount o' space for 'er here." A pause, and then a sniff. "Y'all're keepin' this place… surprisingly clean, so it'll last ya a while-"

And of course Cas couldn't just let him talk. "Dean's a very caring cow father. He's made sure to keep it very clean."

Which, well, kinda put Dean in an awkward position, so, not that he was defensive, but: "I-it's not that big a deal. And not 'cause of the cow, either. Had to head off any smell complaints, so I did a few passes over."

Bobby leveled some kind of look at him. (Dean couldn't quite tell if it was aggravated or just calling him on some alleged bullshit or other, but it was one of the two.) "Cowpats stink like th' dickens, idjit. That was more than a few passes if it's this okay. I couldn't even smell it from the front door which is… saying something."

Cas repeated that slow, solemn nod. "He's been doing very well at adjusting to first-time cow fathering. Except for… well… poor judgment in sources, at times."

Dean was very close to giving up on… well… everything. (If nothing else, there was absolutely no reason for him to feel any particular way about anything Cas had just said, and, of course, lacking any emotional response to something - which, obviously, was true in that particular instance - meant that giving up was the best solution. Always. Obviously.)

Bobby moved past it. "You're probably gonna wanna invest 'n good muck boots… She keeps goin' like this, you'll want 'em."

And then Cas was frowning like Bobby had suggested something utterly ridiculous. "Hooves in boots seems like a bad idea. It would make anyone walk weird, and Sam's just a baby."

Dean blinked. "He meant for us, Cas."

He squinted, head tilting. "Samantha is us, Dean. She has a manicure to keep up with." And then he gestured towards where the cow just happened to move and just happened to flash her bright pink hooves (okay, seriously, did Cas actually teach the cow to understand English or some shit, because that was getting ridiculous).

"The humans, Cas. He meant us: the humans."

Cas evidently… didn't give a shit. "So… three pairs of muckin- Wait, no, four. Samantha has four feets…"

Dean had patience. He really did. He had a lot a few days ago, at least… it was just steadily waning. "Samantha isn't human, Cas."

"She is! And even if she wasn't… she would need mucking boots." He gestured towards the floor. "She is… mucking… after all."

Dean was definitely considering losing it - and by "it" he meant absolutely everything because holy hell, patience? Gone - so he turned towards Bobby and seriously hoped the man would have something actually about the cow to discuss.

Thankfully, he did. "What's with the baby gates? And the-" He gestured towards the windows, still padded with blankets and plastic. "Windows? And-" Another gesture towards a far newer addition. "I even wanna know about th' painting?"

Dean shook his head. "No."

Cas, on the other hand, decided to answer each and every question he'd been asked. "She needs the gates. She's learning to walk, of course, and we can't have her running wild… and she can't be seen when she's indecent!" He looked over at Bobby, squinted at him, and then finally nodded. "But you're a doctor, so it's fine… And she did the painting! She's so talented!"

Dean was eternally grateful that Bobby looked towards him and actually gave him the chance to explain. "The windows were to minimize noise, 'cause of my dad's noise complaints." And then there was the damn painting: a blue and white thing Cas insisted was a masterpiece of a dolphin. "And the painting… another of her tricks."

Bobby looked at it. He squinted. He tilted his head and blinked. "And… th' hell is it?"

Cas looked absolutely scandalized. "It's a dolphin! "

Dean looked at it. And looked at it. (It looked like a cloud. Literally, a color-inverted cloud. At best. And not a dolphin-shaped cloud, either. A literal cloud.) "How?"

A brief gesture towards it and, "You have to have imagination, Dean. It's obviously a dolphin."

Dean did not at all feel anything about his roommate saying he had no imagination. Of course not. Certainly not stung. Instead, he snorted - not covering anything up, of course… what would he be covering up? - and shook his head. "Imagination? More like delusion. What say you, Bobby?"

He frowned at it again, then shook his head. "It's a cloud. I ain't seein' a dolphin."

Dean was completely and 100% happy with the victory. Of course. He did not at all feel bad about Cas' subsequent disappointed face… and he was not at all glad when it faded in favor of gesturing towards the windows. "And she just… cares. So much. She can't possibly contain her emotions. She's a little noisy, but she's just perfect, doctor."

"So I'm gatherin'." Bobby pulled off his cap, then fixed it back into place. "Sounds like you've got a damn fine set-up here. I'd recommend, you know… grass. And space. And other cows." Cas' eyes lit up for a second; Dean was shaking his head vehemently before he even noticed the expression because do not encourage Castiel Novak please … but Bobby just kept talking past it. "She's lookin' pretty settled here, so I don't see much ta change."

Cas' expression of delight at the possibility of more cows had settled into a vaguely contented smile. (No, it meant nothing that Dean knew the meaning behind that particular smile… They were roommates. Of course he knew.) "She doesn't like other cows. She likes it here."

And Dean couldn't just leave it there without explaining why this cow of all cows didn't like her brethren, so, "The other cows 'weren't talking to her.'"

"Uh." Bobby nodded. "Right." Then he drained the rest of the beer. "Well, then. I'll just… be out o' yer… talking cow's coat." He started heading towards the door, but turned back enough to tell Dean, "Lemme know if I c'n help at all."

In the end, it was Cas who responded. "Good. The Google is a very bad cow father. Dean has a terrible habit of listening to it."

"Right." Bobby flashed a look to Dean - he translated it as something akin to do I even wanna know? and Dean hastily shook his head no, you don't, don't ask - before continuing. "Well, again… you need anything, ya know where ta find me."

Dean nodded. "Yes, sir. Thanks for coming to help with our little… Guest."

"I told you to forget the 'sir' crap." Bobby set his empty beer bottle on the counter, showing himself to the door. "Just… figure out your shit, yeah?" And then he left, with that completely nonsensical comment as his final parting shot.

Dean shrugged (he must have meant figure out your shit as regards the cow) and finally - finally - opened his own beer because holy hell, did he need it.