Title: Top

Disclaimer: Don't own. Just playing in the sandbox.
Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel
Warnings: Enthusiastic imbibing of alcoholic products


"Start from the top," Gabriel instructs, pointing imperiously at Castiel with a swizzle stick. The angel blinks at him and then down at the bottle he's only drank half of, so far.

"The top?" he echoes slowly, as if unsure what the words mean.

Beside him, Dean nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, dude! The top! Everything starts at the top!" He frowns. "Well, except when it starts from the bottom."

"Like the 'Pocalypshe," Sam slurs, sinking further down in his seat until his nose is level with the table. Crowley rolls his eyes at the human, takes a long swig of whatever he'd ordered and hauls Sam back up onto the seat. Sam just blinks at him.

"Sheesh," the demon mutters, taking another drink. "Grow some tolerance. You've had two shots of tequila. How are you possibly this wasted already?"

Everyone except Gabriel ignores him and the archangel just smirks.

Dean manages to convince Castiel to try a different type of alcohol before stealing the angel's drink and downing it himself. "What were you talking about?" he asks Gabriel.

"Starting from the top," Gabriel says, snapping absently and stirring the resulting blue drink.

Castiel suddenly gets animated and does something to Dean with one hand while his foot apparently finds Crowley's, if the way the demon starts trying to climb the wall behind the booth is any indication. Sam grins at Gabriel.

"Tops spin," he informs the archangel. Gabriel regards him with a fond look.

"That they do, Sammy. Not this type of top, though."

Dean looks up from where he'd been either doing his best to stop Cas' advances or encouraging them. "What top? Her top?" he asks, pointing at their server, who shoots him an affronted look as she picks up empty glasses and drops off filled ones.

Gabriel rolls his eyes. Beside him, Crowley is back in his seat, though he keeps shooting uncertain looks under the table. "No, not her top. Or any other girl's top," he adds before Dean can ask. The hunter pouts and Cas' other hand snakes off the table and out of sight.

Sam leans back, but ends up sliding down in his seat again, though not very far. "Shouldn't 'jectivfy 'er, Gabe," he scolds, but the effect is somewhat ruined by the slur and his loopy expression. Crowley unobtrusively slides the shot glass out of the human's reach.

"Maybe not," he agrees. "But you're still not getting it. Gabriel means we should start at the top of the world and work our way down. Look for ineffability."

The blue drink's been replaced at some point by a green one and Gabriel twirls his swizzle stick through it. "Exactly. Ineffability. Dad's plan. We've got to start at the top."

Cas isn't listening anymore, though, as Dean's got him mostly under the table and Crowley carefully pulls his legs up. Sam closes his eyes and starts humming snatches of songs, badly off-key.

Gabriel considers them, then glances at Crowley. "First to pass out loses?"

The demon grins. "You're on."