Meg was positive this was going to turn out to be a huge mistake. She'd been sort of. . .surviving by steering clear of the Winchester. . .ladies completely. Because she didn't know what the hell had happened in their world versus what had happened in hers, but the fact that John was there and Dean wasn't was a pretty big flag that something had gone differently.
But Meg also needed something to keep herself distracted while Cas was talking to his other self, because otherwise, she was going to just pace around the room in a sort of worried frenzy. Because she didn't have any idea when or where that other Castiel had come from, but he'd recognized her, which meant he was at least post-Apocalypse.
But he hadn't reacted to her, which meant that he wasn't from the same place that she was from and this was all a bit horrifying in a sickening sort of way. So she thought that drinking with Sam was a pretty good way to pass the time.
And she'd always liked Sam. Better than she'd liked Dean, anyway. And from what she'd been told, Sam with a vag wasn't that different than Sam with a dick, so this shouldn't be too bad.
Meg made it a point to walk to the observation deck, because she wasn't going to risk just popping in and getting ganked. She was mouthy, she wasn't stupid. She walked into the room, tipping her head to the side to look at the woman sitting at the bar. She definitely looked like a female Sam.
After a moment, she shoved her hands into her pockets and walked into the room, making sure her boots made enough noise on the floor to not startle the hunter.