Balthazar is still a little reluctant to accept that those silent, semi-catatonic angels in the back of the prison are truly beyond reach. But he's an optimist, sometimes, and he hasn't been here long. He can't even resent their guards much yet, although he's appalled at how well they do their work.

He studies Gadreel's expression as he nods. Not all angels get the nuances of being covert. Heaven knows Castiel never has, and in some ways Gadreel's quiet sobriety reminds him of Cas. He seems to get this, though, and Balthazar is relieved not to have to explain further. "Certainly! I'm thinking of something that can be found on the Earth. Now, you can begin asking me questions."

He doesn't bother to look at the wardens, but he's listening for the approach, just in case. In a lower voice he adds: "Yes. Not all of the higher-ups are here. A conference, maybe?"