Set early season 4
Solving it the Old Fashioned Way
Dean parked and killed the engine a few spaces away from the car they had been following. They had tailed the car of a man they believed was an incubus causing deaths all over the city to a rather seedy parking lot shared by two very different bars. Unfortunately, they had arrived too late to see which bar the guy had gone into.
“Alright … here’s the plan.” Dean stated with authority, pointing to the establishment to the right, “You go in there and do a little recon, I’ll go next door and do the same. We’ll call each other if we see our guy.”
Sam balked immediately, “What? Why do I have to go in there? Why don’t you go there and I'll go to the other one?”
“I agree with Dean’s plan.” A voice suddenly announced from behind the two brothers. Both jumped at the voice and whipped their heads around to the back seat.
“Cas! Shit! Do have to do that?” Dean complained.
“Do what? Agree with you?” Cas replied, “I suppose I could stop doing that with little difficulty.”
Dean sighed with a growl, “No … I mean stop popping in and out on us without knocking. We talked about this.”
“I apologize. It was urgent that I find you.”
“Why?” Sam asked, curious.
“The incubus that you seek is rumored to have information on Lillith’s whereabouts and possibly knows the next seal she is planning to break. I have come to assist in his capture and perform an interrogation before you and Dean kill him.”
“Yeah, well … we gotta find the guy first and Sam here’s being too much of a bitch to go in that bar and look for him.”
“Dean …” Sam argued back, pointing to the ‘bar’ he desperately did not want to go in, “It’s called ‘The Manhole’…”
“So? You’ll fit right in.”
“You’re such an ass, you know that?" Sam pointed to the other club next door to the gay bar, "Unlike you, at least if I go over to ’The Boobie Trap’ I won’t be so distracted by all of the pole dancers to actually look for the guy. So, why don’t you go to the gay bar and I’ll go to the strip club.”
“Sam, look at me. I’m way too straight and good-looking to walk into that bar and not draw attention to myself. Plus, I'd be too busy fending off dudes that want to get into my pants …” Dean countered pointedly.
Sam wasn’t about to back down and pulled out the big guns, “You’re just afraid some guy will pinch your ass and you’ll find out that you like it.”
From the back seat, Cas spoke up, interrupting the brothers’ increasingly heated argument before things came to blows, “Sam, Dean … we have little time for this. You must resolve this quickly, so may I suggest that you perform a game known as ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors’ in order to decide which of you goes into the homosexual establishment. I can teach it to you if you need.”
Sam and Dean turned as one and looked at the angel sitting in the backseat with puzzled looks on their faces.
“You know rock, paper, scissors?” Dean asked, “You don’t even know how to shake hands, how the hell do you know how to play that?”
“Indeed.” Cas responded, betraying no emotion, “It is often needed when disputes arise in heaven. In fact, it is due to an unfortunate throw of paper that I ended up assigned to you.”
“You saying that you saved my ass from Hell because you lost a game of rock, paper, scissors?” Dean asked, trying not to look a little hurt.
Cas eyed Dean with a confused look of his own, “Why would you think that I lost? Many angels petitioned to be the one that pulled you from perdition. I actually threw scissors and was able to defeat another angel named Haamiah when he produced paper.” Cas informed him, somewhat smugly.
Dean’s lips curled up into a little grin, “So … you guys were fighting over who got to save me?”
“Not in so many words, but any angel would have been honored to perform such an important task.”
Dean nudged Sam’s shoulder, his eyebrows waggling, “Ya hear that, Sammy? It was an honor to save me.”
“Yeah Dean, I got that.” Sam replied with eyeroll so as to not let his brother’s ego get too inflated, “But we still have to go find that incubus, remember?”
“Right.” Dean agreed, holding out his clenched fist to initiate the game. Sam held out his own fist and the game was on. Their fists pumped up and down three times as each brother made their decision and displayed their choice on the final descent. A clear winner was decided, leaving one brother to gloat and the other to exclaim his displeasure with a loud and nearly deafening, “Sonofabitch!”