"This sucks!"

I confess I jumped slightly, looking over at Dean after his outburst. With a sharp jab of his finger, he turned the television off and tossed the remote control on the couch next to him. We were alone in the living room; he was on the couch – I on the chair. "What 'sucks,' Dean?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean backtracked, "Okay, it doesn't exactly suck. But I'm getting a tired of it all."

"Tired of what?"

"These pre-approved angel shows." He shrugged. "I mean, I enjoy Leave it to Beaver and The Andy Griffith Show as much as the next guy, but I can only handle so many reruns."

I spoke softly, "There are no new shows, Dean. Not anymore."

"I know that."

I tried another approach. "Shall we watch Mr. Rogers? I understand that the program is intended for children - but you become very happy when you watch it, and it is full of good values."

Dean flushed, then snapped, "I don't want to watch Mr. Rogers, for Pete's sake!"

"Very well, Dean. How about the show where the man paints 'happy trees?' I enjoy that one." He glared. "Or the one where the Northeastern men do carpentry in their workshop? Bobby likes it." No response. "Very well, Dean. What would you like to watch?"

"I dunno."

"Dean." He was being impossible... and was pouting. Absurd.

"Something else." He threw his arms up in defeat. "You know, Sammy and I never really had much time for sitting around and watching TV. We were too busy fighting on your side, killing horrible monsters, and just trying to survive. I hardly had time to 'keep up with my soaps.'" He glared at me, as if that was somehow my entire fault.

However, I could help fix it. "Perhaps Gabriel could help. He spent several decades among the humans - 'undercover.' I can ask him to recommend some shows that would be more... What is it exactly you're looking for?"

Before Dean could answer, Gabriel appeared, and threw himself down on the couch next to Dean. His short legs draped inelegantly over Dean's knees; Dean immediately kicked them off. "Speak of the devil," Dean muttered.

"I'm flattered." Gabriel drily responded. "So what's on the boob tube?"

I explained, "Assuming that you are referring to the television, that is the point we were discussing, before you... came in." And interrupted. I did not say that last part.

Gabriel shot me a grin that I can only describe as wicked. He snatched up the remote control and started flipping through the channels rapidly. "Cripes, Castiel. What's with this? You have something against shows in color?"

"No-" I protested, but was cut off.

"I know we've talked about this - you can't make our boyos in to perfect, little saints. They're men after all, and men have 'needs.'" I found the way he wiggled his eyebrows at me disgusting.

I watched as the channels started flipping into louder shows before they were cut off by the next one a second later. I caught flashes of blood, shouting, explosions, car, dinosaurs, fighting, alcohol, and scantily clad women wrestling in mud. I sighed, looking over at Dean - his face was rapt. I could not compete.

Eventually, Gabriel stopped on a scene with a green muscle car and a black muscle car dangerously chasing one another through a hilly, busy city full of innocent people. Dean agreed with his choice enthusiastically. I leaned back in the chair, and attempted to ascertain the entertainment in the squealing tires and clanging metal fenders.

"You know," began Gabriel after the car chase ended, "what they really need to let off some steam is some porn."

Wide-eyed, Dean darted a look over at both of us. Quickly, I shrouded Gabriel's and my voices from his hearing. "I do not think pornography is appropriate." Dean looked at my lips moving, but could not hear what I was saying. Figuring it out, he turned back to the movie. "In any place, at any time, but especially not in a house full of angels."

"Chill, Castiel. How would you even know if it's appropriate or not?"

I sniffed. I thought it was obvious.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "You need to relax, buddy. It's a valid way to release a little stress."

"I am not going to sit here and debate the merits of pornographic filth with you."

"Well, where do you want to go?"

I bit the inside of my mouth. I was not about to lose my composure by screaming and strangling Gabriel. Instead, I stood up quickly. Dean looked up to watch me go. I snapped my fingers, and he was able to hear us again. "Stop corrupting the humans, Gabriel. I mean it." I strode out of the living room, ignoring Gabriel's laughter behind me.

Later, as I was sitting outside enjoying the night sky as I often did, Dean came and sat down beside me. He did not say anything, and I tried to remember if I had said anything that I needed an apology. Living with humans was difficult.

Instead, Dean spoke up, "Hey, I'm sorry about that." He was sorry? If anything it was that idiot, Gabriel... I refocused on Dean. "Gabriel's just messing with you." Of course, I was already aware of that never-ending fact, but it felt strange, yet good to have Dean trying to comfort me, who was charged with his care.

Dean went on, staring out at the dark. "Look, I appreciate you trying to protect my virtue or whatever, but I'm not the perfect man I sometimes get the feeling that you think I am."

"Dean," I placed my hand on his elbow, "you are a good man, but no one is perfect."

He looked down at my hand for a second before responding, a wry smile on his face, "You just might be."

"Nonsense. I am far from it." I removed my hand, and almost missed the warmth of contact.

"Whatever," Dean laughed. "Hey, you're not going to think less of me now - if I, you know, watch shows that aren't family friendly."

I was surprised that he cared about what I thought of him. "Of course not, Dean."

Dean grinned and leaned back on the porch step.

Much later, when everyone else was absolutely asleep, I went downstairs, and for research purposes only, investigated some of this pornography. Despite my clinical approach, I was disturbed. I could not understand how such base actions could produce such enthusiastic responses from the 'actors.' And the actors themselves - I kept wondering who they were and why their parents had not shown them enough love during their formative years. I did not understand the appeal whatsoever.

It left me feeling confused and sad, which, from my vague understanding of the procedure was not the intended response.

"Hey, Castiel."

I looked up at the greeting. Sam was leaning on the doorframe of my office. "Good morning, Sam. Will you come in?"

Sam walked in, and sat down on the edge of my bed. If I kept having visitors in my rooms, I was going to need to procure a chair. Dean was always popping in and out, but lately Sam seemed to be coming by more often. I put my pen down - balancing my checkbook could wait. (Not that there were any banks to be doing bills for, but I thought it important to keep track of what we were spending for research. And good stewardship.)

"How are you, Sam?"

"Fine."

"Did you finish your book yet?"

"Nope. I was reading, but... decided to come visit you." He looked nervous. "Are you too busy right now?"

"Of course not. A conversation with you is always enjoyable."

I had an uncanny skill at ending most of them.

Sam did not speak for a few minutes, awkwardly looking around the room as I watched him, wishing I knew his purpose. Finally, I asked, "Are you well, Sam?"

"Oh, yeah," he said somewhat surprised. "I'm fine. I just wanted to... come hang out in here... for awhile."

Although his reasoning sounded weak, I nodded. "I am glad to have you. Is there something specific you wanted to do?"

"Not really." He shrugged, apologetic. "Hey, um, what's up with Gabriel?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I know he's like a big jokester among the angels, right? But is there any reason for him, you know?"

"I am afraid I do not. However, it is true that Gabriel enjoys tricks and mischief. Has he been bothering you too much?"

"No it's not that - well, I mean it is - but it's different than that."

I was confused, so I waited, hoping he could find the correct words to explain his thoughts.

Sam took a deep breath, squinted his eyes, and then blurted, "Gabriel's been flirting with me."

Oh. Sam peaked at me. I gave him a slight smile. "That is just Gabriel; he loves to tease. Especially you, since you are his charge. He has just found a new way to torment you."

Sam's shoulders relaxed, but only slightly. "So you're saying all the touching and hair-ruffling and pinching and calling me "sweetheart" and "babe" is just a big joke to him?"

"Precisely."

"Yeah, he probably wasn't trying to kiss me a while ago. Bet he got a good laugh out of me running away." He laughed. I was concerned. "So next time he tries it, I should just play along or...?

"No!" I said a bit sharply. "I would just ignore him. That has always been my policy. I would never advise encouraging him."

"Okay, cool. Hey, thanks, Castiel." Sam gave me a bright smile. "I'm just going to hide out in here for a little while longer, then I'll go down and face the music. Can I check out your books?"

"Of course."

I returned to facing my desk, but I found myself distracted from work for good while longer.

I kept a close eye on Gabriel and Sam after that. Sam was definitely correct in the fact that Gabriel was showing him a good deal of inappropriate, extra attention. However, Sam ignoring him slowed Gabriel down to my relief. Sam would often roll his eyes and give me a look that said "Can you believe this guy?" each time Gabriel would try something. Clearly, Sam was relieved that Gabriel was had just found a new way to torment him.

I hoped he was right.

Gabriel had never been one for showing affection. Over time I realized that his teasing was his way of communication with people. After years of working together, I believe he had grown fond of Balthazar and me. Flirting with others, angels or humans, had never been beyond him. Surely having a new target to engage was just more of the same and nothing more. Just Gabriel being Gabriel.

If Balthazar noticed, he did not say anything about it. Bobby did not, as well. Dean was always aware of things that annoyed his brother, so he definitely did. He enjoyed teasing Sam almost as much as Gabriel did and took great pleasure in making fun of "Sammy and his special angel friend" as he called it. He laughed about it often. This made Sam call him names, but there did not seem to be much real anger behind him.

In the end it appeared that I was the most concerned, even it did not affect me directly. I decided that it would be best if I allowed things to develop on their own and leave them alone in this matter. Not that Gabriel would ever listen to any of my advice.

"I don't really hate him," Sam told me one day.

"I am glad, Sam. Hate is not a beneficial emotion."

"In this weird way, it's nice having you guys around. I'll admit, I was pretty pissed and freaked by the idea - but this is actually like a vacation."

"That was the intention." I believe.

"Cool." Sam patted me on the shoulder. "But seriously, it's not fair that Dean got the nice angel when he's the jerk."

I cleared my throat to hide a laugh. "The others can be difficult at times."

"That's a polite way of putting it." Sam laughed. "I really was not expecting this whole thing to be like this. I was expecting more slavery and less leisure time." He gave me one more smile, before heading out to help Dean in the garage.

My brow furrowed - I was glad he was happy, but deep down I still had doubts that we were doing this the correct way.