There was a momentary flash of sheer incredulity. Did she just.. ruffle his hair? He was an archangel, a being of immense power and age, older than the planet, older than Time itself and she just tousled his hair like he was a mischievous scamp.

Oh he liked her.

Which could be either very good, or (in the Winchesters’ collective case) very dangerous.

“See? Case in point. None of it happened on purpose. Yet another good thing they fell ass-backwards into.” Gabriel shifted his arm around her shoulders. Being trapped anywhere always made him jumpy.

“They're good at getting into trouble. That's about it. Not like you. You're good at these," he said, diving in for another cookie.