Claire figured she should have been used to that wing-sound, but every time she heard it, she got a tiny zing of bittersweet nostalgia, shooting right from the back of her jaw to deep parts of her memory- memories touched by Castiel, before he took up permanent residence in her father's body. To give her a life. Funny how things worked out.
She shot Rory a small smile from over her mug- he had the same blue eyes as the one she called 'Dad'. Her own were more green, like her mother.
"You want some tea?" she asked, not really a relay tactic. She nodded to the kettle and cup on the table across from her. Might be better if he was sitting down.