The Cake Walk

Summary: Is it any surprise that Dean wants to have his cake and eat it too? A conversation between Castiel and Dean.

Note: I know it sounds like slash, at least I read my summary and felt it sounded slashy but it isn't. I needed a study break and I was feeling marginally clever.

"I'm surprised." Castiel said, "I did expect you to be angry at God, Dean."

"Don't count your chickens before they hatch." Dean told him, "He's on my list too. Somewhere in between Fate and Destiny."

"What list?" Castiel asked.

"People whose heads I'm putting a bullet in." Dean fumed, wondering how the hell Castiel could not grasp the concept of 'pissed off'.

Hadn't he spent enough time with them to figure that out at least? He understood that the complexity of bondage and spanking was a little too deep, but anger seemed pretty basic.

"God isn't a person. You can't call him a person." Castiel told him, "He is a divine entity. He has no shape or form unless he would so choose to."

"Whatever, doesn't matter." Dean said. "Do I look as if I care? Ima kill him."

"You can't kill God."

"Don't test me." Dean warned, "I can move him up to the top of the list. As a matter of fact, if Sam doesn't get put back right fast-aggravating puppy dog eyes and all, so help me-I'm moving him to the top of the list."

"I thought we were giving up on Sam's soul." Castiel said, "It's a lost cause."

"No." Dean said, "Teaching you enough human mannerisms to function in polite society is a lost cause. It's a good thing this is America, where they accept all things strange and unusual. Any other country would have us jailed or killed for the things you do."

"Well, you drink in the morning." Castiel informed him as if it settled the entire matter. "You're an alcoholic."

Dean snorted, "Look who's talking, Mr. I-Drank-The-Liquor-Store."

"That's different." Castiel mumbled, "I was going through a very low point in my life. Things were difficult for me."

"Oh, right, I forgot. My life's a cake-walk."

"You walk on cake?" Castiel asked, "I know that you prefer pie, Dean, but I think that's a rather extreme attitude to take about the entire situation. People in the world are starving; you could at least let someone eat it. That's selfish."

"God help me," Dean told him, "If I accidently crashed the Impala into a brick wall, no one who met you would fault me."

"That wouldn't kill me." Castiel informed him, "You'd only be hurting yourself. Besides, I don't think God is interested in helping you these days…you're very ungenerous with him."

"Oh, eat me!" Dean groaned, angels and demons…he didn't know which was worse.

Castiel blinked. "I don't imagine you would taste very good. I prefer cake. It's soft, and sweet, and-"

Dean interrupted, "Just to clarify, we are speaking of cake, right? Cake? Eggs, butter, flour…like Betty Crocker?"

"Who is Betty?" Castiel asked, "Is she one of your busty Asian girls?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Dean didn't bother to expend the energy to correct the angel. "Martha Stewart and Rachel Ray too."

"Cake is good." Castiel said, "You know, I think cake is proof that God doesn't think you're a bunch of mud monkeys. We don't have cake in Heaven."

What the hell, Dean thought? They didn't have sex, they didn't have cake, and there wasn't any Southern Comfort…

He was starting to think he'd prefer Hell, round two.