"My orders are clear," Uriel says, disgust evident as he spits the words into the space between them, "we are not to touch Sam Winchester."
Sam's gaze is intense as he stands just inches from the angel, his mouth a hard pressed line as he thinks over Uriel's words.
"But surely they don't mean-," Sam begins but a sharp shake of the head from Uriel still his words.
"My orders are not meant for my own interpretation, merely obedience." Uriel bites out.
"So, what? That's that?" Sam is frowning now, an angry crease to his eyes as he glares at Uriel.
"My hands are tied in this," Uriel says simply, a hint of regret tingeing his voice, a silent plea for Sam to understand.
Unexpectedly, Sam smiles, a wicked glint replacing his anger as he cocks his head. "Oh, they will be," Sam says and it is Uriel's turn to frown at him.
"Explain yourself." He demands and Sam's lips twist up into a grin as he reaches into the duffle bag lying upon his bed. From it he withdraws a length of rope and holds it in both hands between them.
"Your orders are not to touch me. But am I right in assuming they say nothing about my touching you?"
Uriel blinks at him. He blinks again. And then he smiles, a slow rising of lips at the corners of his mouth as he allows Sam's logic to override his need to obey.
"Samuel Winchester," he breathes, "I do like your thinking," and he holds out his wrists to be bound.