A/N: IndigoNight, here's hoping you enjoy your drabbles and have a wonderful birthday!
Disclaimer: I don't own them, not even a tiny part. If they were publicly traded, I would try to buy stock, but until that happens…
"Dean should be back from the, uh, store anytime now."
Sitting on the faded bedspread across from Sam, Castiel nodded, before tilting his head curiously.
"You are angry with me?" Sam looked up.
So very itchy...
"Embarrassed then?" The angel prodded.
"About what?" Sam sat on twitchy fingers, the urge growing. "Why are you asking this?"
Dean, please! Blue eyes blinked owlishly back at him.
"Perhaps I am misinformed, then. Do not flushed facial features indicate strong emotion in humans? Are you ill?"
"...not so much…"
Dean chose that moment to return, tossing Sam the pink bottle he had been anxiously waiting for.
Sweet relief! The younger Winchester bolted to the bathroom to smear calamine lotion on his pinkish, rash covered cheeks.
"Hey, Cas. Sammy tell you how he got tossed head first into a patch of poison oak?"