Two Weeks in Europe ✓

37

Cas and Jamie stepped out of their hotel into the sunny morning air for a cup of coffee before they went to the bus. There was hardly any breeze, not a single cloud in the sky as they walked down the fairly busy sidewalk towards the parked vehicle. They got onto the bus, taking their usual seats and dropping their luggage onto the floor. Jamie had convinced Cas to take another one of his vitamins that morning, and he looked brighter already. "What's on the itinerary for today?" Cas asked May as she walked down the aisle (a rare occurrence for her, because she preferred to stay in her seat, and also she had never been part of a wedding in any capacity).

"We're going to a field," May announced in answer to Cas's question.

"A field?" Cas echoed curiously.

"Yes, a field," May repeated. "We're going to a field." She strode back up to her seat and sat down, turning the key in the ignition.

Cas and Jamie exchanged a look. "What are we going to do in a field?" Jamie asked.

Cas gave a helpless shrug. "I don't know. Picnic, perhaps?"

"You can do whatever the fuck you want," May replied with a scowl.

"What's gotten into her?" Jamie asked in a whisper, since May could evidently hear them at their normal volume.

"Nothing's gotten into me," May said irritably. Apparently, she had very good hearing. "I'm just tired of traveling, that's all."

"This is literally your job," Cas pointed out with a frown.

May gave a huff, then was silent. The bus started with a jerk, sending passengers crashing into the seats in front of them or careening into others on the bus. Cas secured an arm around Jamie. As they drove along, meaningless conversation began to pick up amongst the tourists as usual. The bus was, soon enough, filled with chatter and laughter. Cas was reading, Jamie staring out the window at the beautiful scenery as it went by. There came a tapping sound, and Jamie glanced towards it. Timothy, the little boy Jamie had talked with before, was standing there, knocking on the side of the seat as though he was knocking on a door. Cas looked up too, smiling at the child. "Hi," Cas greeted him.

"Hello," Timothy replied. "Can I sit down?"

"Sure," Cas said, scooting closer to Jamie to make room for Timothy on the end. Timothy sat, opening a book of his own and beginning to read in silence. "Erm, Timothy?" Cas asked after a beat.

"Yes?" Timothy looked at Cas expectantly.

"I... Why are you here?"

"Milo was bothering me," Timothy replied simply. "And you're interesting."

"Are you just going to read?" Cas asked, sounding confused.

"Yes," Timothy said, returning to his book.

Cas shot Jamie a bewildered look. Jamie snorted, elbowing him gently. "He's just like you."

Cas laughed lightly. "Uncannily so." After some time, Cas piped up again. "Do you want to play a game?"

"Not really," Timothy replied.

"Who says I was talking to you?" Cas asked, sounding equal parts indignant and hurt.

Timothy glanced up. He shrugged. "I just assumed."

"You assumed wrong," Cas said with a sniff. He turned to Jamie. "Do you want to play a game?"

Jamie chuckled. "It seems awfully unfair of you to be mad at Timothy for not wanting to play a game with you when you refused to play soccer with me at his age."