The call tone was a Metallica song. It played nearly halfway through before it was cut off, a short click introducing Dean, "Yeah hey Sammy, I'm a little busy at the moment... I think I almost found them." his voice rang over the speaker phone.

"Dean, where are you?" he asked casually

"Where do you think!? These vamps aren't gonna just take care of themselves!" he snapped.

Castiel let his eyes widen, Gabriel was still in the room, and Cas was pretty sure he had no clue what these two did. Desperately, he tried to cover it up, "Uhh.. you mean the vampire costumes I asked you to bring me?" he tried, mentally kicking himself for how stupid he sounded.

"... Blue eyes?"

Cas let a small smile form on his lips, "Hey assbutt."

In a semi-angered tone, Dean spat, "Sammy what the hell are you-"

"Oh calm down big boy. Sam's with me. I'm Cassie's bro." Gabriel informed, rolling his eyes at the phone.

"... Brother?"

Castiel chuckled, "Yeah, can't live with em', can most certainly live without em'!"

"Hey!" Gabriel whined.

Dean let out a hearty laugh, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Heyy!" Sam replied, an irritated expression all over his face.

"So!" Castiel interjected, hoping to clear up the vampire business completely, "Two vampire costumes. One medium, one large."

"Excuse you!" Gabriel called out, "III~ am a medium thank you very much!" he sang, lifting his head proudly.

Grinning devilishly, Cas retorted, "Its probably the result of all that candy. If you weren't addicted to sweet things then I'm sure a medium would fit." he teased, a small hint of cruel truth in his words.

Gabriel scoffed, "Well aren't you a big bag of dicks!"

Everyone save Gabriel broke out into jolly laughter. Sam brought the phone closer to his mouth, "Get yourself over here. ASAP! 2321 B Hale street. Its the big complex across from the-"

"I know where it is." he replied, "I'll be there soon."

There was a short click, ending the call. The three sat, very content with themselves. Sam took another swig of his beer before looking over to Gabriel, who was smiling viciously at Castiel, "Sooo..." he began, "He knows where you live? Wonder how that happened."

Cas could feel his cheeks heat, "Shut up..."

"Large huh?" Gabriel barked, sticking out his tongue.

Sam let out an amused chuckle before taking in the final mouthful of alcohol and placing his bottle carefully on the table. Castiel felt nervous. Should he make something? have something ready for him? Would it be a while before Dean got there? Would he be there right away!? "Whoa, whoa, bro. You're wringing your hands. Calm down okay?" Gabriel giggled, a satisfied devil's grin stretched over his mouth.

"Oh shut up already!" he barked.

Castiel stood, grabbing up the two empty bottles between his fingers before heading for the kitchen. His eyes wandered over the counters, searching for something that would help make a good impression. Flour... sugar... apples... *click* went the little light bulb in his brain. Pie! He could make pie! There was still leftover crust dough left in the fridge from his and Gabriel's 'reenact Julia Roberts' night. It was just something they did every week, a sort of brotherly bonding type thing. It had started when Gabriel found an old episode on a TV channel that specialized in re-runs.

"Hold my beer!" Gabriel grinned, "I got this!"

He giggled to himself as he remembered Gabriel's face after he'd smothered a handful of flower over it. Hurrying, Castiel set out the crust, trying hard to remember exactly how they had managed to bake a pie half-drunk. He sliced up the apples, tossing them into the bowl with the other ingredients he remembered. It wouldn't be too far off anyway... He let his tongue stick out of his mouth in concentration as he pressed the dough against the edges of the pan, taking special care to curl the sides for show. Oh... damn... how long to cook it?

Cas could hear his name being called from the other room. "Coming!" he called, popping the pie into the oven and turning the nozzle to 450. Well, an hour ought to be enough. If it was too short of a time he could always let it sit a little longer. Satisfied, he brushed the flour on his hands onto the pant of his jeans, making his way back to the others. Make shift pie, "Well, this should go well." he assured himself... kind of.