"Excuse me. Sorry- sorry mate, just trying to get through--" It took some pushing to get to the back of the pub, where the population was a little less dense and so was the smoke. It was nice, then, that she got a rather clear view of Castiel up against the hallway wall leading to the bathroom. Hanging from his chest and lips, one very foxy brunette with a rack that could kill a tiger.

Oh.

Her beer slipped out of her hand before she could even really think to hold onto it.

Oh.

There was a period of time that felt much longer than it probably was, where her mind was just... completely blank. Maybe that was the alcohol, but she didn't particularly feel inebriated. She just... stood there, wide-eyed and lips parted, looking wholly... something.

After the three seconds, a hundred thoughts slammed in at once.

"Right. Well. That's... brilliant. Okay then." Leave? Shout at him? Cry? Punch that whore? Leave? Punch him? Ask questions? Leave? Punch her. Do something pathetic. Wait, no, don't do something pathetic. Act like you're not bothered? Why maybe he didn't know. Punch her? Ow. Ow ow ow. That hurt. So many questions answered. Like this? Really? This is how. Shouldn't have gotten... Not going to... Freak out? Punch her? Leave? Leave? Leave.

She shoved through the crowd and peeled out the door.