"Not going to do it," Bobby said for the fiftieth time. "I can finally walk again, boys. I can finally help. I'm not giving that up, not even for your angel buddy."

"Bobby, this isn't just about you," Sam said fiercely. "Castiel's the strongest one of us. We can't afford – the world can't afford – to lose him.

"And Castiel can just find another vessel," Bobby said. He leaned forward. "You can't coerce me. You can't force me. And I already know what's at stake. I'm telling you no."

"He is right," Castiel said. "The amulet will make us switch bodies. But it will not be willed by Robert, and I will still not be. . .myself."

"Listen," Dean said finally. "Enough. Stop the arguing. There's still a case here."

"There is?" Sam looked confused. "I mean. . .we figured it out, right? The amulet?"

"Right, numbnuts, but there's still more," Dean shook his head. "Like. . .where did it come from? Why isn't it body switching the two hot chicks? I mean, really, Sam?"

"Okay, fine, Sam agreed. "There's something else going on. So why exactly are we going back to the motel?"

"Orders!" Dean said, lifting his hands from the wheel to clap them together quickly. "Cas, you're on vessel duty. Find yourself a new meat-suit. Bobby, research – you've got to figure out who's new in town, any dirt on the two hotties."

"you and I?" Sam asked.

"We're taking a nap," Dean said with a bright grin. "So I can get back into myself, and you into you."

Two hours later Dean was delightedly preening in front of the mirror as Sam rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

"All right then!" Dean said with a final pat. He turned to look at Sam, who finally LOOKED like Sam again. "Let's hit the bar. You get Rose, I'll get Eliza and we'll figure out this whole Tony, mysterious amulet thing."

Sam knew better than to argue with his brother when he got like this – in Hunting mode, the same as Dad used to get. Sam kind of wished he'd known that, back when the whole family had been together. . .when Dad had still been alive. Well. He knew better now.

The Impala sped down the roads, faster than Sam would have liked, but that was why he wasn't allowed behind the wheel. They pulled up in front of the bar with a screech. "Good thing those girls work pretty much all the time, huh?" Dean asked with a grin. Sam sighed.

"Yeah," he said. "I guess so. Dean. . ."

"No chick flicks!" his brother ordered immediately. Sam smiled, wan, drawn, small.

"No. Just a question." He took a breath as his brother just stared at him. "What are we going to do about Bobby? He can't just stay in Castiel's body. He doesn't have the right."

"I know," Dean said. "We'll figure it out. One thing at a time, okay?" Quick clap to the shoulder and they were out, walking up to the bar.

Sam was glad that his brother had assigned him Rose, the smaller, less aggressive of the two girls. To tell the truth, Eliza freaked him out. There was nothing natural about the girl, from her ink-black tresses, to the bright red lips, to the . . .enhanced. . .portions of her anatomy. She almost looked like a supernatural creature. Rose though. . .Rose he could handle.

But of course it was Eliza who sauntered over, a cat on the prowl, her eyes lit up at the sight of them. She instantly sidled up next to Sam, nearly purring in her satisfaction. "Hey, big boy, what took you so long to get back here?"

"Um. . .I don't. . .excuse me. . ." Sam stammered, as she pressed her body against him. "I just have to . . .um. . .bathroom. . ." his brother laughed behind him as he darted away.

He'd forgotten about Dean's behavior in his body. Which of course was what the bartender remembered. He splashed some water on his face, glad to feel his face again, his bones, his skin. He'd never felt right in Dean's skin, and while his brother had seemed to enjoy the new experience, he'd just been waiting for a cure.

"Okay, Sam," he said. "Just a quick interview, nothing more. Find out where she got that amulet. Track the sucker down. Take it out. Business as usual."

Out in the bar, he saw that it was, indeed, business as usual. Dean was already lounging in one of the few booths, his arm stretched across Eliza, who seemed really nonchalant about brother-switching. Rose was behind the bar, wiping out pint mugs.

"Hi," Sam said, sliding onto one of the barstools. "Just a water, thanks. It's a little too early for me."

"No problem," Rose said. She had a nice smile. Open and honest. She passed a glass across to him, and then resumed her wiping.

"So we decided that my friend's wife would really love that amulet," Sam said, after taking a drink. The air behind him rumbled with Dean's laughter. "We were just wondering where you got it."

"This?" Rose pulled it out from beneath her blouse, began running the stone across her fingers. "I. . .I got it from a friend."

"Oh," Sam nodded, winced at what he knew he was going to say next. "I don't suppose. . .she works here? Or comes here often? We'd really love to find where we can buy one."

"He," Rose said. Her gaze was turned inward now, a frown across her face. "I don't know. . ."

"I understand," Sam said. "It's just. . .it's their fiftieth anniversary, so. . ."

Rose leaned forward, glanced over at Dean, or maybe Eliza, and closed her eyes for a moment. "Don't tell her, okay," she whispered. Sam nodded. "Tony gave it to me."

"Who's Tony?" Sam asked blankly. He tried to remember. . .could only come up with that weird time Eliza had dashed to the bathroom and come back dressed like a fifty year old homeless woman.

"Oh," he said.

"Right," Rose said. "He's been trying. . .but he's kind of a sleaze, and I could never do that to Eliza anyway. . .but I really liked the necklace, so. . ."

"No, no, don't worry about it," Sam assured her. He finished his water. "Thanks anyway. I understand."

Rose smiled at him, instantly took the glass, and began rinsing it. Sam strolled over to his brother.

"Dean," he said. "Come on. Time to go."

Dean smiled, stretched languously, and whispered something in the girls' ear. She giggled, nodded.

"No problem, tiger," she purred.

"Dude," Sam said in disapproval as they headed back to the Impala. "Gross."

"Jealous?" Dean asked.

"Never mind," Sam rolled his eyes. "She got the amulet from Tony."

"Tony?" Dean shook his head. "Eliza's monster of a boyfriend?" Sam nodded. Dean pursed his lips. "Huh," he said. "That figures."

"Stop by the library?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head.

"Why bother? The guy's some kind of a trucker. . .we'll just look him up in the phonebook."

"With no last name?" Sam asked. Dean grinned at that.

"Don't worry about no last name," he said, nodding his head. "I might not have learned about the amulet, but trust me, I am dialed in to the best source for Tony research."

"Again," Sam said. "Gross."

Castiel was waiting for them in the motel when they arrived. Sam instantly headed for the phone book to look up Tony's address.

"No luck?" Dean asked.

"Vessels are very difficult to come by," Castiel said. "It can take years, decades, centuries even to find a proper vessel. Michael has not materialized King David."

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean said. There it was. Sam pointed his finger at it, ripped out the page, and grabbed his brothers' arm.

"Come on, Dean, stake-out," he said. Castiel watched them leave, still trapped in the wheelchair. Sam felt a little badly, as he could almost feel the angel's eyes followed him.

* * * * *

Dean was bored, and tired, and more than a little cranky. "Coffee!" he barked at his brother.

"It's gone, Dean, just like the last time you asked, just like the next time," Sam said wearily.

"This is a waste of time." Dean closed his eyes, leaned back a bit, crossed his arms. "I told you. Dude's a trucker, he's not supposed to be back until tomorrow morning. Why are we still here?"

"Fine," Sam said. Dean opened one eye. Seriously? His stick up the ass brother, finally agreeing to something. Sam was sulking, sure enough, but he didn't give any other resistance when Dean turned on the engine and started turning away from the house.

"Sammy? You okay?"

"Sam," his brother said. "Yeah, I'm fine, Dean, just tired."

"Just tired?"

"And confused," Sam admitted. "I mean. . .if Lucifer wanted our places changed, if he thought he had more chance of convincing you to say yes, then why didn't he try? We were switched up for more than two days."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe he didn't know."

"The only way he didn't know was if he didn't do it," Sam sighed. "I don't know, Dean, the pieces just aren't fitting together. "

"Maybe there aren't any pieces," Dean said. "Maybe it was just blind chance. A regular case."

"Yeah," Sam stared out the window. "Maybe."

Bobby was already laid out across one of the bed when they returned, his snores bouncing against the walls.

"Rock, papers, scissors?" Sam asked. Dean glared at him, knowing exactly where it was going.

"Screw you," he said with a sneer. His prissant of a brother cockily hopped into the open bed, threw back the covers, and was somehow, amazingly, asleep in mere minutes. Dean groaned as he maneuvered himself on the couch. He was getting way too old for this. He turned to look at Cas, still stranded in the wheelchair.

"Oh, sorry, Cas," he said, something finally occurring to him. "Now that you're in Bobby's body, do you need. . ."

"No," Castiel said shortly. "I still do not need to sleep. That much of my power remains."

Oh. Dean rolled onto his back, stared up at the ceiling. "Do you think. . .Cas, even if Sam and I never say yes. . .do you think we have a chance of winning this thing?"

A long pause. Too long. Dean rolled over on his side to look at the angel. Weird to think of Bobby as an angel, with the trucker hat still on his forehead, and the salt and pepper beard still obscuring his features. Somehow, despite the change in hue, they were still Cas' eyes.

"If we find God, then yes," Cas said finally. "We can win."

"Yeah, hot luck with that," Dean snorted. "There's about fifty million old men with beards floating around this planet. How you're going to find God if he's not on a tortilla chip beats me."

"I already told you," Cas said, his voice a little exasperated.

"You checked the tortilla, I know," Dean said. "Point still stands."

Another pause. Another beat.

"God doesn't look old," Cas said finally. Dean perked up a little. This might actually be interesting.

"No?" he asked.

"No." Castiel said. Dean waited for the rest, but as per usual, the angel needed prompting.

"So what does he look like?"

"He looks different to everyone," Cas said. "Everybody perceives beauty differently, and God must always be beautiful."

Dean thought. Huh. That made sense. "So what did he look like to you? You know, last time you saw the old man?"

Castiel averted his gaze. "It was a long time ago. He might look differently to me now."

"Come on!" Dean leaned forward eagerly, any chance to catch a shred of humanity in the angel an interesting change. "What did he look like? Let me guess. . .green eyes, red hair, a body to kill for. . ."

Castiel shook his head. "No."

"So what?"

Finally the gaze was back on him, and for the first time Dean was glad that Castiel had lost the use of his legs, because he was quite certain that otherwise the angel would be in his face, their noses nearly touching, and he'd be scrunching as far back on the couch as possible.

"He looked like you," Castiel said.

Awkward.

Dean turned to face the back of the couch, not wanting to hurt the angel's feelings. "Dude, I did not need to hear that."

"I am aware of your feelings on the matter," Castiel said, not sounding at all upset.

"Than next time, just say, 'Dean, you so do not want to hear that.'"

"Very well."

"So what are you going to do for the rest of the night, while we all get some shut-eye."

Pause. Beat.

"Dean, you so do not want to hear that."

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. Okay then. Fair enough.