Dean drummed his fingers against the seat divider, a steady tap-tap-tap as the plane gained altitude.

"Your heart is beating much too quickly."

Dean turned his head and glared at Castiel, who was sitting next to him in the window seat with his eyes closed, looking like the picture of fucking serenity. "I don't like planes. I don't like flying. Last time I was on a plane, a demon tried to crash it."

"I've already assured you, there's no demon on this plane." He opened his eyes, brow furrowing. "And if flying causes you this level of anxiety going to hunt in New Zealand seems an odd choice."

Dean slouched in his seat. "Yeah, well. Mike's an old friend of Dad's. Known the guy since I was five, if he's asking for help I really can't turn him down." The woman across the aisle was glaring at him, or more accurately his neurotic drumming, and Dean crossed his arms. "Still don't get why you couldn't just zap us there."

"We have an ancient pact with the Maori deities. Arriving this way, like a human and in the company of a human, shows humility and a desire to respect the old agreement. TÅ«matauenga in particular takes an almost perverse joy in the upholding of obscure and arbitrary rules."

"Sounds like you should all get along like gangbusters." Cas leaned back in his seat and it was galling that he actually seemed to be enjoying this. "I should have asked Sam."

"You did. He doubled over laughing until he couldn't breathe. And Bobby hung up on you."

If it was anyone else in the world, Dean would have sworn Cas was making fun of him. He watched Cas stare out the window. "This must be weird for you, huh?" Dean said. "Flying like this."

"The sensation is odd," Cas admitted. "Much slower than I'm used to." He tilted his head. "I've flown over this area before. There's a grandmother living in that house," he said, pointing out a blue speck far below, "who steals one dollar from her register every day she works."

Dean perked up. "You just know that?"

"It's her sin, Dean. I can see it."

"Dude. Creepy."

"I've learned not to look. It makes the world a much more discouraging place when I do."

The plane hit a patch of turbulence, bucking and shaking, and Dean clutched the divider so hard his hand hurt.

"I will not allow the plane to crash, Dean," Cas said, sounding bored and vaguely insulted that he'd even had to say that.

Dean looked around the plane, desperate to take his mind off his imminent fiery demise, and imagined seeing the world the way Cas could. It was almost impossible to not size up the other passengers, try to crawl inside their heads and guess at their deep dark secrets. Cas glanced at him and leaned over, following Dean's gaze towards a man in a sharp black suit. "He's a defense attorney," he said in a conspiratorial whisper. "He knows his client is guilty and is hiding evidence."

Dean knew Cas was indulging him; normally he would have resented that but honestly, he was really starting to freak out and any distraction was welcome. "Anything else good?"

"The woman two rows ahead embezzled two million dollars and is changing her name." He nodded towards an man who looked exactly like Orville Redenbacher. "He committed a war crime in Korea and allowed his friend to be punished for it." Looking at a man across the aisle, Cas said, "He..." His expression darkened. "I'll take care of that when we land," he murmured, scary angelic wrath in his eyes and Dean did not want to know.

An athletic-looking guy walked up the aisle. "He is planning to cheat on his spouse." A few minutes later a brunette with a fake tan slipped out of her seat and also made her way past them; Cas said, "She intends to join the..." Confusion lined his forehead. "Dean, what exactly is the 'Mile High Club?'"

Dean sporfled. "I'll explain it later, Cas." The plane took another bump; this time his hand closed on Cas' wrist instead of the divider and damn,was that embarrassing. Even worse, a few seconds later Cas actually held his hand; just this once Dean let chick-flick moment happen. Cas went back to whispering other people's secrets in his ear until the turbulence stopped and Dean could breathe again.

Dean thanked him by giving him detailed knowledge the Mile High Club. First hand.