The wrath of WIP's. Something had to give, and as I wrote this for the hot and spicy interspecies erotica – it can now reach its conclusion. I might sequel it sometime to tie up the babies and Sam and Gabriel (that sounded wrong). But there was very little to resolve in the present – so here is the bizarre conclusion. I attribute Sam's affable mood to Octocas breaking his brain with wrong-oddness.

"You love calamari." Sam points out, still only in the miserable 'just woken up' stage of his hangover.

"I can still eat squid." Dean says, without looking up from the fish he's pointedly filleting right in front of Sam's eyes, which are unfortunately connected to his roiling stomach.

"We also eat small sea creatures." Castiel points out, his tone and phrasing slightly off, implying that he's already in the middle of a sentence when he's only beginning. Castiel is lounging on the bed, stretching his...things, out on a towel in a lazy stretch. Sam still can't think the word 'tentacles' without almost retching.

"Damn right." Dean gestures at Castiel with the gutting knife, and Castiel smiles at the praise of his conversational skill.

Gabriel waves an...arm-like thing, from the tub pointedly. (Sam thinks he's worked out that such displays make him feel nauseous). "We also eat vegetation."

"And ice-cream." Sam can't help but point out.

Gabriel frowns.

"What is it that you are referring to? Ice-cream?" He asks, one appendage supporting his chin.

"It's a..." Dean frowns, fighting to rise to the challenge of explaining something as simple as ice-cream. "A white cold thing on a pointed dry thing." He says abortively. "It's sweet." He adds as an afterthought.

Gabriel furrows his brow extravagantly. His eyes brighten suddenly.

"I took this from you by the big bridge, south shore of the peninsula?"

"The pier." Dean corrects. "And yes."

Gabriel waves several gleaming brown limbs in remembered enjoyment. He turns his sparkling eyes on Sam.

"It was, most satisfying." He says, as if Sam had done him a favour by being unwary and loose fingered whilst close to the water.

"Good." Sam mutters insincerely.

Dean flicks a dot of fish blood onto Sam's hand. "Play nice with the in-laws."

"Yeah, should we talk about the fact that you're 'married'...to a creature that I only just found out about yesterday?"

"Technically you saw him on TV like a week ago." Dean points out.

"And I've also seen Bigfoot, doesn't mean I'll believe it until I meet it." Sam grimaces as his raised voice adds a few more screws to his pounding skull.

"You're bigfoot." Dean snickers. "Besides, what else do you want to know? I met Cas, we escaped, we live here now. Tribes up to three people, more when the spawn come back..."

"There's spawn?" Sam moans. "Seriously? Spawn?"

Dean shrugs. "Cas got all cosy in here and his body decided it was time to make little Enochians – they're maturing in the ocean some place."

Sam feels bile creep up his throat.

"That's gross."

Castiel looks affronted.

"My spawn are...awesome." He points out to the room at large, clearly plundering Dean's vocabulary.

"You said it." Dean cheers.

"How many...kids, have you got then?" Sam murmurs, trying to encourage a return to quieter speaking and saner topics.

Castiel shrugs, unable or unwilling to do the math.

Dean frowns.

"He had like, thirty pods on him, but when they came off some had two little baby...squid...type...embryo..."

Sam turns white, then green.

"...are you ok?" Dean asks.

Sam nods with difficulty.

"Anyway, some had two in them...so no idea what the final head count is." Dean shrugs.

"Some will be devoured." Castiel interjects. "Or they will cannibalise..."

Sam stumbles outside and retches into the grass.

"Cas...way too early for cannibalism." Dean remarks.

"Noted, I will try to remember." Castiel says, as if receiving an etiquette lesson. Dean sets his fish fillets into a pan to cook, cleans his hands on a rag and goes to sit with Castiel, feeling the dry, silky tentacles as Castiel raises them to twine around his body. Checking to make sure that Sam is still puking his guts out elsewhere, Dean kisses Castiel's peeling lips softly. The creature wriggles happily in anticipation.

"I cannot stand to not see you, while they are here." Castiel murmurs, stiltedly. Dean figures this is 'half learned English' talk for 'I can't wait to get alone and naked with you'. He reaches confidently, smoothly, for the organ underneath Castiel's writhing limbs. Castiel gasps, closing his eyes and humming happily.

Gabriel splashes heavily – the Enochian equivalent of coughing politely. Dean withdraws his hand and grins sheepishly at his brother in law. Gabriel has at least grown used to him, if not totally approving of a relationship that might land his brother in heart ache.

Same comes back inside, windswept and pale.

"You...are an ass." He grumbles.

Dean holds up his middle finger, Cas watches the gesture like a curious budgerigar.

Gabriel raises a few glistening limbs.

"Sam, it really is not sickening in nature." He chides, frowning as if the idea that Sam finds 'spawn' vomit inducing is odd and confusing.

"I didn't mean to offend you." Sam offers half heartedly. Gabriel seems appeased.

"Anyway...I was gonna name like...twenty of them Sam." Dean says amiably. "In honour of their uncle."

Sam flushes with pride despite himself.

Castiel fingers Dean's hair lovingly and Sam look away, embarrassed.

"We must name some after Gabriel...when they return." He smiles, looking for all the world like a fond mother. "Some may have his likeness – I do have similar genes."

Dean touches Castiel's face gently.

"And a few Dean and Castiel Jrs... maybe a Clint." He smirks.

Castiel is nuzzling his hand. Dean could probably name his children 'Calamari' and "Fish Sticks' for all Castiel cared at that moment.

Gabriel, having sunk beneath the water, emerges in a fit of indignant bubbles. He glances at the couple, wrapped up in each other, and turns to find Sam looking at him in an effort not to look at them.

"They will grow...perhaps, less sickening." Gabriel wonders aloud.

"Don't bet on it." Sam huffs. "As long as this is all I seem them doing, I think I can handle it."

Gabriel nods solemnly.

"If the mere notion of juveniles causes you to vomit, witnessing sexual activity would be unwise." A trace of impudent humour reaches the creatures brown eyes. "Doubtless you wouldn't be able to 'handle it'."

Sam frowns.

"I can handle sex – it's gross but it's not like I'd cry." He hisses.

Gabriel raises a sceptical eyebrow.

"Try me." Sam says.

Castiel, casting half an ear to this exchange, even as Dean kisses him delicately once more – rather thinks Sam may be speaking a little rashly.

Though he has learnt – impudently challenging the order of things in a rash way, might actually benefit the one doing the challenging – as the order was apt to recollect and reassert itself in a new and interesting way.

Or, as Dean might put it with his superior idioms – Tempting fate could pay off.