Chapter 1.

"What do you get an angel that doesn't want anything?" said Dean, shaking the flask in irritation and an irrational hope that more coffee might magically appear in it.

"I don't think he's expecting anything." said Sam, "He's never had a birthday present from us before."

"You think that makes it better?" said Dean, "You got him something, right?"

"Yeah, just a knife with his initials engraved on the hilt."

"CW?" said Dean.

"Yeah."

"That's a good present. Why didn't I think of something like that?"

"Can we go deal with the vengeful spirit now?" said Sam, "You have until Tuesday."

"Stupid idea, giving angels birthdays." said Dean, throwing the flask onto the back seat.

"Why shouldn't he have a birthday?" said Sam.

"Well, just off the top of my head, he was never born."

"You're the one who wanted him to be more involved with everyone."

"Yeah, whatever." said Dean, "Let's go unhaunt the music store, before our misty friend garottes anyone else with a guitar string."

"Are you a little jealous that Sarah has him celebrating birthdays?" said Sam.

Dean started the engine. "Are you smokin' something you shouldn't?"

Sam smiled. "I just wondered. I suppose you've worked out why he chose the 18th?"

"I assumed it was random." said Dean, pulling out into the Saturday morning traffic.

"I mean, you have reason to celebrate it too."

"I don't celebrate any date." said Dean.

"The day you got out of Hell?" said Sam, "Sarah told me that's why he chose it. Meeting you was when he considers himself to have been reborn."

"Well, that's a load of ... "

"Yeah, the contempt works better without the half-smile." said Sam.

"How's the research going? Do you have anything yet?" The two-way mental communication between him and Cas was awkward for both of them and made keeping strong feelings private very difficult. For someone who liked to keep all his feelings under wraps, having an angel who could feel them with him was disturbing.

"I've found a lot about involuntary prayer and angels picking up on distress signals sent by people who have prayed to them in the past. Nothing anywhere about prayer working both ways and humans picking up angels' thoughts and feelings. I don't think it's ever happened before."

"That's impossible. Of course it's happened before. Angels and humans have coexisted for a long time. Every possible interaction between the two must have happened a million times. Look harder."

"Dean, if you're suggesting I'm not trying ... "

Dean raised a conciliatory hand. "No, I'm not. Sorry, Sam, I just want things back to normal."

"Dean, we were never within spitting distance of normal."

"You know what I mean. I want Cas to be able to be around me without having to lock down his mind and without me having to try to keep mine quiet. My mind doesn't really do quiet."

"You've basically got telepathy and you both want to kill it." said Sam, "Have you even discussed the possible benefits?"

"It's not nice, simple, direct mind speech." said Dean, "It's messy and unpredictable and only seems to work when one or both of us are under a lot of pressure. It would be useful, if I could say, 'Come via the side door, it's lightly guarded. Bring holy water.' But instead, I transmit fear, confusion and anger and he has to work out what it means."

"You could learn to direct your thoughts more precisely." said Sam, "With a little work, it could become a positive advantage."

"You might wanna consider how Cas feels about it." said Dean, "The best birthday present you could give him is to find a way to shut it down."

"I just thought you might both think about other options." said Sam.

"Cas wants it gone. It's going." said Dean.

"Okay. I'll keep looking. I'll get Jack to help." said Sam.

"There has to be something, an amulet, a spell, Enochian tattoos for both of us, anything at all."

Sam chuckled.

"What?" said Dean.

"Sorry. It's just the idea of you two getting matching tattoos."

"Yeah, bite me, bitch."

"Jerk." said Sam.

"Try calling Rowena. Maybe she has something."

"I'm keeping her as Plan Q." said Sam, "Her magic tends to have some dark edges."

"Well, so do I." said Dean, "I don't mind dark edges."

"Cas might feel differently." said Sam.

"Maybe we need an angelologist."

"Yes, but it's hard to find anyone who knows more than the surface stuff. I'd go to the angels, but the only one I trust is Cas."

"Yeah, trusting angels has to be Plan Z." said Dean, "You and Jack will find something. I have faith in you."

"Sarah's making Cas a cake." said Sam.

"What for? He doesn't eat." said Dean.

"You know what's funny?" said Sam.

"Bald guys with pony tails?"

"On Tuesday, you'll be the life and soul of the party. Because however much you pretend to think it's stupid, you love the idea of giving him a party."

"I think it's a stupid idea and if anyone ever tries to throw me a party, I trust you to put a stop to it, but Cas will like it, so we'll do it."

"Oh, Sarah asked if we dance."

"What did you tell her?"

"That I have been known to and you only do it badly and when very drunk."

"Yeah, good. Best to bury any idea of that nature as quickly as possible."

"She said I can teach you." said Sam. His grin was infuriating.

"I'm not dancing. Not in the bunker." said Dean.

"Not in front of witnesses?"

"Exactly."

"Sarah might insist."

"Yeah, so did Zachariah." said Dean.

"He asked you to dance?" said Sam.

"The only reason you're getting away with that is that I don't want blood on the upholstery." said Dean.

"Do you think Cas can dance?" said Sam.

"I doubt it and Jack definitely can't."

"It'll be an interesting party." said Sam, "Most importantly, it'll get everyone celebrating together. They could all use a little fun."

"Yeah, it's a good idea, I guess. I just need to find him a decent present."