Castiel closed the door slowly before turning to find Dean struggling with the rain coat. Silently amazed at how quickly he was adapting to having wings, Castiel watched him clumsily try to pull his wings closer and pull the coat off. He had a long way to go, that much was obvious, but Castiel looked forward to the day he could see the man before him soaring through the air with joyful abandon. After his third attempt to dislodge his arms Dean's eyes flitted across Castiel's face.

"A little help?"

"Of course."

Closing the distance and using one fluid hand movement, he freed the winged man and laid the trench coat on the back of a nearby pew. Dean rolled his back, flexing and stretching the muscles before addressing the situation as Castiel knew he would.

"Soo…that was weird."

"It was indeed peculiar."

"Do you normally get surprise midget visits in the middle of the afternoon?"

Castiel tried his hardest not to laugh, suppressing as much as he could while a mischievous smile crept onto his lips. He had to admit – Gabriel was rather small in comparison.

"Not frequently, no."

Dean noted the guilty smile creeping onto the priest's face. Maybe if he wasn't bat shit crazy he would have considered him a possible friend. Insanity did have a habit of putting a damper on most relationships.

"So, what do we do while we wait?"

"I…was planning on sitting here quietly until nightfall."

"Dude, do you even know what fun is?"

"I-"

"Please don't answer that."

Dean shuffled back and forth on his heels, only beginning to feel the cold of the room on his skin. Rubbing his left arm for warmth, he looked once again at the priest who seemed otherwise preoccupied with his thoughts. Clearing his throat, he began.

"Uh…so, is there any way I can get a shirt or something? It's kind of…the air conditioning really works."

He could visibly see the cleric's thoughts stop dead in their tracks before realization and possibly embarrassment dawned on him.

"Oh! Um, yes; one moment."

The best way Dean could think to describe the cleric's movement was that he skittered across the room. Ruffling through a trunk that had previously been tucked into the corner by the coat rack, he heard a small cry of triumph before the man put everything back. Walking back with his arms hanging flat by his sides, Dean wondered how the world's most awkward man had decided on a job that meant working with people. When the priest handed him the shirt he was immediately grateful, a feeling that did not last beyond its first moment.

"Dude, this is a hippy shirt."

"I do not understand."

"This is the kind of crap tree huggers wear when they back pack Europe – there's no way I'm wearing this."

Clearly frustrated but not about to argue, he snatched the shirt from Dean's hands, storming back to the chest. Trying to suppress a chuckle, he crossed his arms and leaned against the nearest wall. Dean briefly caught a glimpse of a baby blue t-shirt that was set in what he assumed was the 'no' pile, vocalizing his preferences.

"I can dig a t-shirt."

"Pardon?"

"That t-shirt you just chucked, I can wear it."

"I…doubt that."

"Look, just-"

"Dean, it holds sentimental significance, I'd rather avoid ruining it."

"Wait – oh…uh, sure."

Castiel continued to root through the trunk in silence, a majority of the articles of clothing going into the 'no' pile before Dean thought about what just happened. For something with sentimental value, it was pretty weird to keep it in the church's costume chest. A moment passed, realization hitting him. 'You've got to be kidding me…'

"Is that your costume chest?"

Castiel flinched at the implications in Dean's voice, knowing an explanation at this point would only make things worse. Still, he replied.

"Yes."

"Dude, I saw at least one dress come out of that thing."

Heat crept up Castiel's neck and face as he remembered the instances the dress had been used; feeling a need to defend himself without a proper idea why, Castiel did not turn to Dean as he explained.

"There have been occasions where certain attire –"

"A dress?"

"- was unavoidable."

"I don't see how you can be forced to wear a dress."

"Some hunts are easier when you go 'under cover'."

Dean found the priest's air quotes mildly amusing.

"Where would you-"

"Cross dressing circles, strip clubs, specific formal events, dens of iniquity…There are more occasions than one might imagine."

"Wait, back up – dens of iniquity? Are you telling me you've gone undercover in a whore house dressed in drag? You – a priest?"

"I…am not proud of the actions necessary for that hunt's completion."

"Oh, ho – do tell."

"I would rather not."

"I am never going to let you live that down."

"I was under the impression you had hoped our acquaintance would cease after this juncture."

Dean shut his mouth. He didn't know why this priest was so easy to talk to, why in the short time he had gotten to spend with the man he was suddenly so chummy with him. Dean never really had been the 'friend making' type, probably half the reason why the thing with Lisa worked so well. He had no friends to hide her from, no one rooting through his personal life since his brother had gone off to college. This was the first time in a long time he genuinely enjoyed the company of another person and the circumstances weren't exactly normal. Dean watched as the cleric finally found something he deemed appropriate before replacing everything into the trunk and sliding it back into place. Raising and approaching Dean, he handed him something white and vaguely familiar.

"I hope this is adequate."

Taking what he now recognized as an oversized dress shirt, he smiled reassuringly over the fabric. He could work with this.

"Yeah, thanks…"

"Father Christopher."

"Right…uh, you got a shorter name? I'm not sure I want to call you priest all the time and I'm sure as hell not calling you 'Father'."

Castiel's brow furrowed as he appeared to think on it.

"My given name is Castiel Christopher, I do not believe that either name-"

"Cass it is."

"…Cass?"

"Yeah, you know – short for Castiel?"

"A nickname, then?"

"Yeah. Look, if you don't like it –"

"It is fine. It will…suffice."

Dean was getting the distinct impression that Castiel had never been given a nickname before. Focusing on ripping wing holes into the back of the shirt, he figured now was as good a time as any.

"So, while you're still all 'Suzie Homemaker', what are we eating?"

Castiel remembered the grocery trip he was supposed to have gone on the previous day. Thinking a moment before sighing, he resigned himself to something fast. Indulgence would not change much in the grand scheme of things.

"What kind of take out would you prefer?"

"Oh man, I could kiss you right now!"

Castiel was mortified – first the bizarre physical contact and now kissing? He did not know much about this man, but this was not how he imagined an Angel. Apparently his discomfort showed on his face, Dean chuckling as he continued.

"Dude, relax! It's a figure of speech. Anything with meat is fine."

"Oh…yes, alright. I will order pizzas then."

Two pizzas and three hours of awkward conversation later, night was approaching on the horizon and Castiel was more than a little unsure of the task that lay ahead. Hunting was enough a challenge with skilled hunters at your side, taking someone with no knowledge at all? This night would not be an easy one. Sneaking a peek at Dean while he fiddled with the straps of his weapons bag, he found Dean watching him intently.

"So, what exactly are we hunting?"