Getting ever closer to the end of the Supernatural universe, Bobby's house
"Right, so." said Sam, hanging up one of Bobby's many phones. "He's not in Cape Girardeau. My money's on Cicero."
"With his little --" Castiel paused a moment, giving himself time to consider the proper word to use. Also, to burp. "-- friend."
Sam narrowed his eyes at him. "You're not still hungover, are you?"
In all fairness, Castiel's glare should have turned Sam to dust where he stood. "No."
They could hear Bobby rolling around and sifting through something in his kitchen. "Where the hell'd all my damn liquor go?"
Sam's eyes widened. Castiel shrugged.
"I'm drunk again."
Sam managed to flutter vocally yet wordlessly for a few moments, clearly at a loss for actual words to speak. Castiel lost patience with it quickly.
"Your brother is going to say yes. He might be my brother's badly dressed meat puppet by now." He shrugged again. "Seemed the thing to do."
Sam shook his head, hard. "No. We're going to find him before that happens. He'll be in Cicero. I'm sure of it." He looked down at Castiel and sighed. "Can't you just, like, sober up? The longer we wait. . . ."
"Nope." Castiel flailed a hand at him before finally managing to push himself to his feet. "No, you're right, we've gotta get going. He'll never see us coming."
"Right." Sam caught Castiel's arm. "Isn't there some rule against not drinking and flying?"
"Not that I'm aware of, no."
"You're not going to, like, miss, are you?"
Castiel rolled his head on his neck to peer at Sam. "What did I say about asking stupid questions?" He wasn't entirely sure he had the coordination to get two fingers onto Sam's forehead -- even though it was a very big target to hit -- so Castiel laid his whole palm in Sam's head. "Poof."
And they were off.
[NFB, NFI, this one's actually between 5x17 and 5x18, which is exciting!]
"With his little --" Castiel paused a moment, giving himself time to consider the proper word to use. Also, to burp. "-- friend."
Sam narrowed his eyes at him. "You're not still hungover, are you?"
In all fairness, Castiel's glare should have turned Sam to dust where he stood. "No."
They could hear Bobby rolling around and sifting through something in his kitchen. "Where the hell'd all my damn liquor go?"
Sam's eyes widened. Castiel shrugged.
"I'm drunk again."
Sam managed to flutter vocally yet wordlessly for a few moments, clearly at a loss for actual words to speak. Castiel lost patience with it quickly.
"Your brother is going to say yes. He might be my brother's badly dressed meat puppet by now." He shrugged again. "Seemed the thing to do."
Sam shook his head, hard. "No. We're going to find him before that happens. He'll be in Cicero. I'm sure of it." He looked down at Castiel and sighed. "Can't you just, like, sober up? The longer we wait. . . ."
"Nope." Castiel flailed a hand at him before finally managing to push himself to his feet. "No, you're right, we've gotta get going. He'll never see us coming."
"Right." Sam caught Castiel's arm. "Isn't there some rule against not drinking and flying?"
"Not that I'm aware of, no."
"You're not going to, like, miss, are you?"
Castiel rolled his head on his neck to peer at Sam. "What did I say about asking stupid questions?" He wasn't entirely sure he had the coordination to get two fingers onto Sam's forehead -- even though it was a very big target to hit -- so Castiel laid his whole palm in Sam's head. "Poof."
And they were off.
[NFB, NFI, this one's actually between 5x17 and 5x18, which is exciting!]