Just a regular gig, hunting a shifter in a local college until Dean picks up a hot piece of ass in a mini skirt unlike any before. Castiel looks great in a pair of frilly panties. DeanxCas

"Well whatever, I still found less than squat," Dean griped into his cell phone, pacing down the crowded corridors of the college. Some unheard bell went and suddenly the hall was flooded, at least high schools gave you a little bit of a warning. "Fine, follow up that lead but I'm done for today, there's nothing freaking here-"

Dean heard the familiar sound of books falling to the floor, followed by a curt shout of "Watch it!"

Turning to inspect the incident, Dean found a single individual left to pick up their books. This single individual had one of the most attractive pair of legs Dean had seen in a while. He followed them up from the slender ankles past the taut calves and thighs, Dean couldn't help but tilt to the side to get a glimpse up the short skirt as she bent down to retrieve her belongings. Dean caught sight of a nicely fitting pair of panties that were just the tell-tale sign of intentional showing off.

With a few quick strides down the hall, Dean was crouched next to the victimized student, handing over the small pencil kit he retrieved from the floor, "I believe this belongs to you." Dean smiled as he spoke, his voice laden with an unspoken desire.

The individual in question looked up from the floor to the pencil kit, and then to meet Dean's gaze. Dean was stunned by the contrasting black hair and sharp ice-blue eyes. They were like nothing he'd ever seen, wide and staring, yet somehow teasing and so very enticing. And Dean didn't miss the way they seemed to light up after registering the man to them.

"Thank you," Cas took the kit from Dean, coyly looking away before quickly turning back. "You're not a student here, are you?" Cas looked Dean over from head to toe, sharp hazel-green eyes behind long lashes, and a solid frame bound in a neat suit.

Dean shook his head, "Haven't found what I'm looking for here." He pulled out his badge and flashed it to Cas, smirking at the received reaction –everyone loved the lawman, but only in a Hollywood sense. "Special Agent Dean Mason, nice to meet you." A patented Dean Winchester smile couple with a wink, "And you are?"

Cas smirked confidently, knowing he had Dean following along on a string. The very attractive agent was one hell of a catch, and his schoolwork could wait. "My name's Castiel. Are you here to investigate those murders on campus last week?"

"Yeah, but we're not turning up much yet. Say," Dean raised an eyebrow inquisitively, "Why are you calling them murders? The police are writing them off as accidents." Dean's life of work nearly overrode his aching (and somewhat misplaced) desire –almost.

"Seriously?" Cas acted as though the answer were obvious, "There's just no way those were accidents. It's a serial killer, right?"

Dean couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips, "Right, something like that. You know, if you're really interested, we could talk a little more over lunch. What do you say?" Dean's expression was just shy of an additional eye brow wiggle. Things were going really well, and while the conversation still lingered on his job, his mind was nowhere near it.

Cas' eyes fell to half-lidded, a smile creeping onto his face, which was now suspiciously close to Dean's own. Cas' cheek brushed past Dean's as he moved to whisper in his ear, "I'd really like that."

Dean didn't mind Cas' lower voice, it just worked for some chicks. And while Cas' relatively flat chest seemed a little odd, Dean had always been more of an 'ass-man' anyhow, and that was one fine ass. "I'm parked just outside," Dean offered a hand and Cas latched to his side.

As they exited the building, Cas went on excitedly about Dean's line of work, expressing his enticement with the subject matter, the adventure and lack of normalcy. Dean could only hid a bitter laugh, if Cas only knew the half of it. Dean's hand dropped a little lower on Cas' back and he took another assessment, checking to see if he was still in the bounds of their current interaction. He received a lustful smile from the smaller man next to him, encouragement enough to drop his hand to cup that fine ass.

"Dean, I'm glad you're here," Sam was speed walking, a man on a mission and all business. Before Sam could continue with whatever it was he had found, he caught sight of Dean's partner. "Dean," His voice was terse, the noun curtly spat out –the bitch face firmly in place, "We're working."

"No," Dean corrected, "You're working. With a bunch of dead-ends, I might add. I'm going out for food."

"With..." Sam's though trailed off while he took in the sight of Cas, slender, with fair hips –but not curvy, at least, not curvy enough. The set of his jaw and the squared shoulders tipped Sam off, and he had to do a complete double-take of the situation.

"Cas," Dean offered, not realizing Sam wasn't trailing off for lack of name.

Sam choked back a laugh, Dean hadn't a clue. His face hardened again, "Dean, you really should get back to work. People are dying." If Dean just listened to him, and got back to work, he wouldn't have to figure out the hard way that this wasn't a chick on his arm, but rather a boy in a skirt.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean waved him off. "Catch you later."