A/N: CO-written with Nightmare97. This is a series of college AU one shots labeled as episodes that aren't necessarily in order. Original characters are based on, well, real, living breathing people and most of the stories come from real (but mostly imagined) events. My friends and I don't live together but this is what might happen if we did...with the Winchesters as our neighbors.
Enjoy!
Episode 1: Love Thy Neighbor
"So…" Sam said, eying the coffee Dean had left in the chipped pot critically. "We have new neighbors."
His brother looked up from where he'd been glaring at his half-full mug. It looked like the older brother might be attempting to will the vicious looking black sludge inside to spontaneously multiply. Dean in a less-than-caffeinated state was always something of an experience. Dean grunted something that may have been interest, but then again, it may just have been him encouraging the contents of his cup to breed.
"They're females," Sam offered.
That. There. The little eyebrow twitch. That may have been interest. He pressed onward. "Maybe they'll want help bringing stuff in later. We could help them carry things up the stairs since we're all off."
Dean's second monosyllabic reply was interrupted by the familiar scraping caused by the glass door that led to the small balcony. Castiel, the brothers' roommate, swept into the living area accompanied by his usual scent of sandalwood incense.
"Sam, Dean," he intoned, rushing towards them for a few steps before composing himself, "I have achieved transcendence."
Sam and Dean both turned to him, surprised.
"Uh… What? Like you uploaded your mind to the internet?" Sam questioned tentatively.
Castiel explained with a bit more inflection than his usual monotone had to offer. "I think I have successfully mastered the connection with my true essence, and received a vision from my spirit guide!"
Sam blinked. Cas had always been prone to obscure meditation tactics, but this was weird, even for him.
"What?"
"Sam, I have finally balanced all seven of my chakras and the clear flow of natural energy has allowed me to commune with the honeybee."
After a moment of thick silence, Dean stood up from their small kitchen table abruptly. "Bullshit." He deadpanned, turning to the sink and pouring his coffee out as if it was the cause of what he had just heard. He made to leave, but Castiel shifted to stand in the doorway, a fervent and imploring look on his face.
"Honeybees are very spiritual creatures," he tried to explain, "The very fact that they are able to fly is a clear indicator of their greater connection to the cosmic paths of a higher form."
The cuffs of his trench coat, seriously how is he always wearing that, flapped wildly as he tried to illustrate his story. "I was meditating on the balcony as I do every morning, when I was accosted by a ferocious humming. At first, I thought it was the sound of energy flowing more freely through my aura, but then, I became concerned that it might be something more… malevolent."
"Malevolent." Dean's second word of the day. Good for him, Sam still hadn't found his yet.
"Yes. Seeing a vessel of yellow and black, I was reminded of my childhood, when I was first introduced to the chi blocking horrors of the wasp's sting. Assuming it was a test of my commitment, I was prepared to assist in the passing of the wasp from this state of being to the next. But then, in a moment of what must have been higher intervention, it was revealed to me that this creature was, in fact, a pious honeybee." At this point Castiel paused to reflect upon the significance of his morning's exploits.
"And?" Sam finally spit out.
Castiel blinked his wide blue eyes at him for a moment, seeming to struggle with returning to the lowly physical world around him. "I followed it."
Dean shot a very pointed look out the window over the sink and down to the apartment's car lot, six stories below. "Did you grow spiritual wings and fly with him too?"
A slight crease appeared between Castiel's eyebrows. "I- no. All bees other than drones are female, but-"
"Just continue Cas," Sam interjected.
"Well, I watched the bee's path, sensing a deep connection within myself. It led me to my vision."
Dean actually almost growled. "A vision. You had a vision?" Sam noted that his volume had increased well beyond his usual morning allowance.
"I believe so, yes. A copper haired young woman, an angel perhaps, was arriving here. It must be a sign, perhaps an omen of coming fortune-"
Dean graciously interrupted with another loud, "Bullshit."
Insight of a more reasonable kind dawned on Sam. "No, no maybe Cas is right."
Dean looked at Sam incredulously and Sam knew he was trying to get a read on his sanity. "Well, not right in that he had a vision and communed, or whatever, to bees. But he could have seen the new neighbors I mentioned. Were others with the girl you saw?"
"No, there was nothing but her." Cas said, awed again by his morning.
Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Great, ok well, that's all I can deal with on half a cup of crap coffee. I'm gonna get out before the fumes of whatever Cas's been smoking get to me too."
Sam knew where Dean was retreating to. "Bring me back a cup too."
Dean waved a hand in acknowledgment as he toed his flip-flops onto his feet, keys and wallet disappearing into the pocket of his athletic shorts. "Be back in a few. Keep Cas inside, will you?"
The door closed behind Dean before Sam could make any promises.
Sam scrolled down his computer screen. He was midway through an article discussing the pros and cons of the Texas oil field expansion and its effects on paleontology. On one hand, all the new excavations had the potential to uncover treasures of the prehistoric world, but on the other, the crudeness of the digging could easily destroy them out of ignorance. He was leaning closer to the monitor to make out a graph emphasizing the increase of findings when the front door blew open with a crash.
"Sam, we gotta go." Dean called loudly into the room, striding rather intimidatingly towards him. Sam had swiveled so sharply in his chair at the unexpected entry that his hair had whipped across his face and he had to spit out strands before answering.
"What? What's wrong?" The apartment was on fire. Cas had fallen off the balcony again. Dean had gotten into trouble with the law and they needed to get out of the US and start over with new names-
"Nothin's wrong, Sammy, just hurry, pie is on the line." Dean said, waving away Sam's worry. His chest heaved and one hand held a mildly crumpled paper to-go cup from the Java-Lava and tucked under his arm was a taped cardboard box.
Sam sat and blinked up at his brother, restarting his brain and searching for how pie could fit anywhere in his known reality.
"Pie, like, apple pie and ice cream pie?"
Dean brandished his coffee at him.
"Yes, Sam, sweet pie baked with appreciation and gratitude."
Sam absently brushes droplets of coffee off of the hem of his bathrobe, "and...who is getting this pie?" He examined his wet finger tips. "Is that my coffee?"
"We are Sam, WE ARE. In payment for helping those new girls bring their crap up." Dean said, handing Sam the wilted to-go cup. The coffee was cold and more than half had been spilled, or possibly drunk, in the process of bringing it back.
Sam sighed. "Dean, this-"
"Come on Sam, I need your help. Think of the pie. Do it for the pie." He was backing towards the door, uncharacteristically eager to sweat on someone else's behalf.
"Dean, you're back." Castiel said, ghosting into the room. "And our masculine strength is required?"
Both brothers glanced at Cas.
"Yes Cas, good, you too, I think one of them is your copper haired chick, maybe."
Blue eyes brightened. "My angel needs me." The dark haired man sidestepped Dean and flung the front door open, intent upon rescuing his angel from harsh manual labor.
Does anyone in this place know how to open a door gently?
Sam rolled his eyes and stood, tossing the rejected coffee into the trash.
"Just let me grab my shh-shit!" Sam sputtered and jumped as both his flip flops smacked into his body, one into his chest, the other frighteningly close to his most vulnerable area. "Dean, what the hell!?"
Dean pin wheeled his arms like a traffic cop. "Vamos, Moose."
Sam glared and muttered something that sounded like 'jerk' as he shuffled into his sandals.
"Aw, what a cute bitch face." Dean chided as Sam met him in the hall way outside their apartment.
Sam's come back was cut short because he had to throw himself against the wall to avoid a backhand from Castiel. He'd started some sort of yoga/Thai Chi moves in the hall that involved exaggerated breathing and violent arm waving.
"Cas, dude, what."
"He's trying the 'sense' his angel." Dean provided.
"Didn't you get their apartment num-"
"Huuuuuggghhhhhhhhmmmmmmmm" Cas interrupted, beginning the vocal portion of his episode.
"Quick, Dean, what's their number before Cas gets us evicted." Sam pranced in place, staring disbelievingly as Cas moved down an octave and started his routine over.
Dean scratched the back of his head and shuffled. "I didn't get their number."
"You...you didn't get their number? Dean, how'd you think we were gonna help them without knowing where they are?"
"I know man!" Dean said angrily "I was distracted."
"She was hot, wasn't she." Sam was glaring again.
"No, man, I mean, maybe, but she mentioned moving and then pie and I kinda…you know." He shrugged helplessly.
Sam sighed again and looked back toward Castiel, who had abandoned his elaborate arm sweeps and had transitioned to reaching stiffly out towards the nearest doorway, head thrown back and eyes tightly closed. His obnoxiously loud breathing had not changed.
Cas stumbled a few steps closer to the door directly across from their own apartment, and pressed his palms flat against its surface. He made an oddly-pleased sounding hum deep in the back of his throat, accompanied by a slight circular motion of his hands against the door.
Sam was just cataloguing the different ways he might kill himself with the belt of his bathrobe. The feeling of some sort of impending doom intensified dramatically when he realized he was still in his bathrobe, in the hall, about to meet new people. Shit.
The expletive had hardly crossed his mind and Cas was still feeling up the door when said door swung open.
A girl stood there, blinking owlishly at Cas's hands, which were still outstretched and blindly groping at the air about two inches from her face. Her blank expression swiftly changed to an impressively unwelcoming deadpan as her gaze shifted to Sam in all his bathrobed glory. Dean managed to escape her withering look by unobtrusively sidling to where he was hidden by Sam's greater bulk.
Cas's face, however, beamed. His eyes popped open and his mouth spread wide into a genuinely angelic smile.
The girl blinked once more. "Nope." and slammed the door in his face, nearly removing his forearms.
Graves poked at the elevator button with her elbow, hands full of boxed household items. She frowned when she saw she'd only managed to push one of them. The wrong one. Lifting one foot, she was poised to start jabbing at the console again when the elevator door slid open , making her turn her upper body to peer around her boxes. The act of looking around her burden unbalanced her, and she had to plant her foot flat against the button panel to avoid falling. At least she got the right floor this time... And all the others.
The newcomer was a guy who couldn't have been much older than herself, and looked for all the world like he'd just rolled out of bed. One side of his hair was flattened and the other stuck out, his t-shirt was crumpled, and his athletic shorts had holes in them. The look was completed by a to-go cup of coffee and a pair of ragged flip-flops. He stared at her, then looked at the well-lit buttons, frowning. He hummed softly, then took a small sip of his coffee, turning away from her to stare at the wall as the elevator door slid shut with a "ping".
The incredibly awkward silence was only broken by the soft mechanical hum of the lift's movement, and several long, long seconds later, another bright chime signaled their stop on the first floor.
As the doors slid shut again, Graves looked over at her companion with a nervous smile. "Only six more to go," she offered.
The guy glanced at her sideways. "Uh huh."
Ass. Graves thought, trying to shift some of her cumbersome boxes. The corner of one was digging into the soft spot right beneath her ribs, and as she tried to move it, one of the smaller boxes on the top of her load swayed precariously as the elevator ground to a stop at the second floor. Graves managed to right everything, and offered the guy another sheepish grin. Did he move farther away from me?
Another few seconds and they were on their way again with a cheery ding from the carriage's speakers.
"So…" Graves desperately searched for small talk. Still five more floors and she hated this silence. "Is the pool nice?"
His jaw twitched and he took a slow drag from his cup before answering.
"I uh… Haven't actually been."
"Oh really?"
"Yah, my roommate, he uh, got us banned."
"..oh" Graves said as again the conversation flat lined. She took a moment to consider the horrors he could have committed to get them banned.
The door pinged. It sounded mocking now.
Graves was tired of constantly adjusting her weight to balance her boxes, so she decided to lean against the wall. As she was beginning to tilt backwards, the elevator jerked into motion again, and the topmost box slid off. She could do nothing more than stare as gravity claimed the little cardboard container full of 100% breakable housewares and dragged it towards the unforgiving tile flooring.
She closed her eyes and stiffened, waiting for the inevitable noise of shattered dreams and breaking ceramics.
It did not come.
Cautiously opening her eyes, she saw that "Flip-flops," as she decided to call her elevator-buddy, had shot an arm out and caught her precious box.
"Wow, dude," she exclaimed, beaming at him. "Thank you so much! You have no idea what you've just saved- Drae would kill me if any of her mugs broke!"
Staring at Flip-flops expectantly, Graves, watched his face tork into a confused frown. His look went between her and the box in his hand for a few seconds. Another floor, another irritating bell noise.
"What's a Drae?"
Her smile faded slightly, but she kept it up. Small talk. I can do this. "Well, 'who' is the more appropriate question. Drae is one of my roommates, though sometimes she can be a bit of a thing, especially in the mornings."
One of his eyebrows shot upwards. "Right."
Graves laughed weakly. "Yeah, she's uh… Yeah." Maybe he'll say something and save this.
"So, you guys are new?"
Oh thank the lord. "Yes!" Graves said brightly. "We just moved in, or, are in the process really. Who knew you could collect so much crap in so few years." Too much too much abortabortabort.
PING.
Damn that sound. Only two more floors.
"Uh…"
Graves turned to him almost desperately. Keep going, don't leave me hanging here, Flip-flops.
"Um. Do you want help with that?" He gestured with his coffee cup at her boxes.
She could feel her face light up with relief. "Oh, that would be amazing, thank you so much. You have no idea how stressed we've been about getting the couch up to the apartment. Not to mention the mattresses."
He sort of made his face turn into a smile but the light dying quickly in his eyes said otherwise. "No problem."
Graves had an idea then, that he might have only meant to help with the boxes she was currently carrying, but it was too late to turn back now. "You know, I understand you've probably got plans and stuff, so maybe I could offer you some compensation?"
His pained grin tightened a little. "Right," he said between his teeth.
"Well, I'm pretty good at baking, so, maybe once we get settled in I could send something over? I dunno, do you like pie?"
A little choked noise escaped him and his grimace disappeared. A calm, disturbingly calculating look replaced his former visage. "Apple?"
Bingo. "If that's what you like. My great aunt had this amazing recipe, I promise it'll be the best you've ever had!"
"It better be." The door pinged again and opened onto the sixth floor. Flip-flops looked her in the eyes then. "I'll go get my backup." And he was off, a man on a mission.
The door pinged itself closed before Graves could thank him, or get her box back.
Drae's gonna kill me.
"What do you mean a Flip-flop wearing man child absconded away with my most prized possessions?" Drae practically shrieked, "And you just let him?!"
Graves cowered slightly against the counter she was leaning against.
"He'll bring them back," she protested, "Honestly, he should be here any minute- and really, you should have seen him, he's way into pie."
Drae glared. "My mattress gets brought up first for this. And that pie better be damn glorious." A sigh that could have fed an entire forest escaped her. "Why did you even have to ask for help? I don't know about you, but I'm kind of exhausted and really not in the mood for new people. If I shred one of them, I will not be held responsible."
Stag, the third roommate, rolled towards them across the floor. Her red hair stuck up in the back and there was a bit of carpet fuzz buried in it, but she looked pretty happy, as always. "I dunno, it'll be nice to meet neighbors right away." She said with a dazzling smile.
"And lets be real, how were we going to get that couch up here? This solves all those problems." Graves said around a bite of apple.
"Do you know how many are coming? The couch is bad but Stag's piano is probably the worst. Can they be trusted with such precious cargo? I mean, they're men." Drae asked flatly. She picked up mess of grey fabric from the floor and pulled it over her head, revealing it to be her favorite, oversized hoodie.
That thing needs to be burned, Graves thought.
"Drae, chill, they will be well supervised." By that I mean you'll be burning holes in them with your eyes.
Stag swung to her feet. "Drae, you'll see, just think, with their help you'll have your bed in by this afternoon!"
This drew a consolatory grunt from the hoodie swathed girl. "Yeah, but they'll have touched it."
Graves rolled her eyes. I better feed them before the troops arrive. Hungry Drae is not for the faint of heart and Stags needs something to help focus her.
"Did you hear that?" Drae asked darkly, neck extending like a turtles from her gray shell.
Graves listened. "Um, no?"
Drae was already slipping off the plastic bin she'd perched on. "I'm gonna go look." She drifted to the door muttering about murderers or something.
Graves crunched another bite as she rolled her eyes again. "Want something to eat Staggity?"
Drae wasn't much paying attention to the conversation anymore, her attention captured by something that sounded like voices in the hallway. "Did you hear that?" She asked, straightening up.
Graves looked at her skeptically and responded in the negative, and Stags looked invested in the prospect of food. Definitely tempting, but... Strange noises were to be investigated first. This was a new apartment and if there was some crazy serial killer ready to burst through the door, it looked like she was the first line of defense. Besides, this was like, horror movie etiquette 101.
"I'm gonna go look," she grunted, hopping off of an overturned storage bin she'd been sitting on. Padding over the carpet, she headed across the living area and to the door.
Drae leaned over and pressed her ear to the wood, not catching any distinct words, by there was definitely someone standing outside their door.
It was probably those guys that Graves had invited over. Ugh.
Resigning herself to her fate, Drae pulled back and threw open the door. The sight that greeted her was not at all what she expected.
The first thing she noticed was a wide palm, only about two inches away from her face, fingers spread and making little grabby motions.
Uncomprehending, Drae stared blankly at the man behind the arms. Dark hair, somewhat unshaven, barechested besides a long tan coat, And wearing some sort of thin cloth pants that were so baggy they looked like they'd fill with air and carry him away at the slightest sneeze. Drae felt any hope she'd had of a safe, fairly normal day of moving crumbling as the man heaved in a loud, drawn out breath. As he let it out, he opened his eyes and grinned so widely that it had to have pulled something in his face.
Shocked into a stony silence, Draes attention was caught by movement behind the man, where an incredibly embarrassed looking guy wearing flip-flops, Flip-flops, she mentally hissed. He had the box of mugs clutched to his chest and he was trying to hide behind-
Oh Lord. What was that?
Someone had taken a small tree and put it in some horrible grey pinstriped bathrobe. The Groot guy was also wearing ratty flip flops.
Drae couldn't. She just... COULDN'T.
Spitting out her thoughts in an elegantly worded, "Nope." She slammed the door, hearing a slight yelp as it smacked the trench coat guy's arms on the way closed.
Drae turned around slowly and leaned against the door, glaring at Graves and Stags, who had paused in the middle of whatever they were doing at the sound of the door banging shut. "Well?" Graves asked, eyebrow raised. "Who was it?"
"My mugs aren't worth that." Drae growled, pushing away from the door and stalking towards the other girls. "Not even my bed is worth that."
"But... Who is it?" Stags asked, holding a slice of peach out to Drae.
The dark-haired girl took it and bit into it fiercely. "It doesn't matter," she said around the piece in her mouth. "They're not coming in, and we're not going out. We'll just have to hide and stay quiet until they're gone."
"Don't be so dramatic Drae," Graves chided, moving across the room to open the door. "I'm sure everything- oh." Drae leaned over a little to peer around Graves. The three miscreants were still there. Sweet heavens, Trench Coat still had his arms outstretched.
At Graves appearance, Flip-flops stuck his head out from behind Bathrobe cautiously and gave a little wave. "Um...Hi."
"Well Hi there, um.." Graves said, and godbless her, she took the waggling fingers in her face all in stride, and even saved the moment by grasping his hand and shaking it welcomingly. "Hi there, I'm Graves, by the way, and," she released the dark haired man's hand and stepped aside, waving back towards Drae and Stags. "These are my roommates, you met Drae." Drae curled her lips in a way that could be a smile, but also could be a snarl ( hissssss )."And Stag." The red head moved forward with a wave and balanced a paper plate of peach slices in the other hand.
"Hi, thank you guys so much for doing this." She said. "Peach?" She offered the plate to the men still standing in the hall.
There was a few heart beats of silence as Stag beamed around the circle.
Drae slouched around Graves and rested her chin protectively on Stag's shoulder to glare narrow eyed at the men. She was not about to trust these hooligans around her dear sweet innocent friend.
Doing a slow once over, she noticed that Flip-flops and Groot were staring openly at Trench Coat. Her sharp gaze shifted to the weirdo. His eyes were impossibly wide and the smile was removed from his face, replaced by a slack mouthed awe. Fumbling slightly, he took a handful of the sliced peach, distractedly shoving them all into his mouth. Cheeks bulged as he chewed unhurriedly, eyes reverently trained on Stag's face.
O.K, that one's mostly harmless.
Flip-flops nodded in slow resignation then stepped around Groot, who stood nervously twiddling with the loose belt of his bathrobe, offering the box of mugs out like a peace offering between two warring tribes.
"I'm Dean, and this is my brother, Moose. And chubby cheeks over there is Castiel." Flip-flo..er..Dean said.
Drae swooped down on him, snatching her precious box from his grasp.
The Groot Moose's glower power was strong as he somewhat roughly pushed his brother out of the way to offer his hand. "It's Sam actually." And his face slid into a sincerely apologetic smile.
Drae sniffed at his hand and backed away as Stags and then Graves took it and shook.
"Well," Graves said with an unsure half smile, "If everyone's here, come on in and we can get started."
Dean strode in confidently, followed by Castiel or whatever his name was. Sam sort of stumbled in after them and grabbed Castiel's arm. "We should um," he mumbled, "We'll be right back," and dragged Castiel out the door again. A second later, another door slammed across the hall.
"So this is us," Graves said brightly, lifting her arms to wave around at the apartment. Various boxes of different sizes and shapes were strewn about, and some of them had been halfway unpacked, leaving an odd assortment of household items scattered around the space. There was a lone bar stool up against the counter.
Dean nodded, surveying the space. "Not bad. Pretty much like ours, flipped around a little."
"What's your name again?" Drae interjected, perched on the counter now with one leg drawn up to her chest.
He blinked and then smirked "I'm Dean. The uh... the one who 'knocked' on your door is Cas, and the tall freak is my brother, Sam." He said, giving them the run down again.
"Uh huh," Drae replied, grabbing another slice of peach from the counter and biting it, making a little slurping sound to avoid having it drip on her.
Before the situation turned more awkward there was a knock on the door.
"That's gotta be the other guys," Graves chirped. "Drae, go let them in."
"Why me?"
"Because you're closer, and I have seniority."
Drae growled, but jumped down and headed for the door. She opened it, and it was indeed the other two guys. Looking them up and down she saw that Bathrobe, or rather- "Sam" had changed into jeans and a faded plaid shirt, and looked pretty normal. His shaggy hair could still use some work though. "Cas", however, was still dressed a bit like a hobo. He had at least put a shirt on, but for some reason he kept the coat.
Finished with her once-over, she grudgingly stepped aside and let them in.
"Thanks," Sam said as he walked past.
She grunted, and refused to acknowledge Cas's little bow of gratitude. Immediately after closing the door, Drae went back to her place on the counter and snatched another peach.
"So," Stags said with a grin and clapped her hands together. "What'll we carry up first?"
"Well," Sam huffed softly as Dean, Cas, and himself trudged down the last flight of stairs," That was probably the most embarrassing introduction of my life." They had been joking about the earlier scene as they trotted down steps.
Dean shot him a look. "The most embarrassing? Are you sure? What about that time-"
"Shut up Dean!" Sam hissed, elbowing his brother playfully as they pushed open the doorway to the stairwell. "Let's just get this over with."
Since the elevator was small, the girls had taken it along with some empty boxes, and the three guys had opted for the stairs. They were to meet their new neighbors out at their U-Haul trailer for another load. Sam was already beginning to like Graves, her open smiles and chatter making her easy to get along with and generally pleasant to be around.
Stag was sweet, encouraging, and also nice, though not quite as inclined to beginning a conversation though. She seemed completely oblivious to Castiel's obvious infatuation with her, and in what time they'd known each other, the two had spent much of it conversing about various composers, instruments, and other musical things.
Sam was a bit less sure about Drae. So far, about half of everything to come out of her mouth was snapping at someone to "No, leave that." Or, "Don't touch that!" Or, "break that and die." Everything else was sighs and little grumbling noises. Charming. At least she was productive. Well. "Productive" may be too strong a word. More like "Competitive about how much crap she carried."
The hoodie she persisted on wearing despite the warmth of the weather was a deep grey and made her look like some sort of wraith as she seemed to appear and disappear randomly to "check up on them." The high contrast between her dark clothing, hair, pale skin and light eyes didn't help.
Where Graves and Stag were open in expressions and easy in their conversation, Drae was hard to get a read on and undeniably snarky. Sam wasn't sure if it was some twisted initiation tactic or if she genuinely hated them. Whatever.
Squinting in the light of the outside world, the three men made their way along the side of the building to the small lot where the trailer was parked. It was finally, blessedly, almost empty. Dean stopped to say something to Graves, and Cas hovered awkwardly around where she and Stag were unloading something from the cab. Sam rolled his eyes fondly at Castiel's hopeless adoration and swung around the vehicle to the back to grab another box. Giving the remaining cargo a once over, he was glad to see that there was only one more full stack plus a couple more stools for the kitchen. He bent to grab one that was lying on its side, and promptly dropped it on his foot with a loud expletive. Drae was sitting on top of the last stack of boxes, hunched over so her head wouldn't hit the ceiling. How the hell did I not see her?! "What-" he sputtered, leaning against the wall to take the weight off his throbbing foot. "When did you- how- why are you even up there?"
Her eyebrow shot upwards and she grinned at his misfortune. "I dunno," she shrugged. Shrugged, dammit. "why'd you drop my chair on your foot?"
Sam glared. "Because you're up there."
The girl hummed. "Touché."
Cursing a little more under his breath, Sam flicked his foot a few times and then grabbed the last two stools, turning to leave the trailer.
"Hey, Sam."
He turned his head back to her, frowning slightly. "What?"
"Thanks for helping us," she offered, pulling some sort of package out of her hoodie pocket and ripping off a corner. "Do you like gummi worms?"
Sam gave a little snort of laughter, "S'that an apology?"
Drae grinned again, and Sam thought that it was probably the first time it'd been genuine. "I have been an ass today, haven't I? Eh, Take it how you will, you guys are alright."
"Alright?" He shot back playfully, putting down the chairs and sitting own on one. "You make us your little slaves all day and we're just alright?"
"Slaving?" She huffed and threw a brightly colored candy at him. " A few tiny hours of moving boxes around is slaving? And you call yourself a man."
Sam made the mistake of ducking, and the sugary little projectile that would've hit him in the stomach caught in his hair. Drae laughed at him, and he ate it anyways.
Dean wiped the sweat from his forehead onto the sleeve of his t-shirt. The dark fabric was already soaked through and Dean was pretty sure his forehead was wetter after the wiping down. They'd been at it for hours and finally gotten a pretty good system down. One person, usually Stag, would hold the elevator door while the rest loaded it down with boxes and items and shit. They'd all pile in and ride it up and repeat the process, only offloading the crap onto the landing and then hauling it all into the girl's apartment. Good thing the apartments were fairly empty this time of year, and at that hour on a weekend not many people came to pester them about hogging the only elevator. But if someone did want it, well, tough shit.
To be fair, they each really didn't have tons of stuff, but three people's clothes still makes a hell of a pile. At any rate, the last elevator full was in route to the 7th floor but in the attempt to make it really the last one, the crew had stuffed it really full. So now Dean began the long trek up the stairs for what felt like the millionth time, carrying a box that wouldn't fit.
Stairs are good for you my ass.
The door at the bottom of the stair well swung open and Dean peered over the railing to see who it was. He could barely make out the top of Graves' head over the box she was carrying.
"No room at the inn?" He called to her.
She shifted the box to look up at him.
"Nah, I gave my spot up to Cas, I was worried he was going to faint if he had to climb stairs in that coat. Seriously, does he ever take it off?"
"Only to wash it, which isn't often." Dean said, waiting so she could catch up.
To be honest, he was pretty impressed by Graves' strength. She was nearly as useful as Sam when it came to lifting and never once got distracted by items that were uncovered in the process. Stag had pored over a long forgotten music score that's slipped out of a drawer which distracted her, and by extension, Cas, for the better part of the morning.
Drae carried stuff. Her stuff mostly. And only because she didn't trust them to do it properly. She'd nearly gnawed Sam's arm off when he's moved to stack some of her art supplies on top of more art supplies. That'd set her off on a rant about "keeping the integrity of the art" or something. Whatever. They mostly didn't touch the boxes labeled with her name.
But pound for pound Graves had hauled as much as him and all with an unflappable optimism.
Deans good-ish mood had long since melted away in the Texas heat, so he didn't know how she kept up that smile that showed off her dimples.
God, I'm staring.
Dean snapped his eyes ahead again and began climbing, Graves a few stairs below.
She was humming, Humming.
"Would you stop?" Stop being freaking cute. Stop. Stop being my neighbor because I don't do apartment building relationships. He realized he was being an asshole. But maybe he'd earned that right a few box loads ago.
"Oh, sorry." She said softly.
They plodded in echoey silence.
"I'm sorry we ruined your Saturday." Graves said after a moment. "I know it sucks but we're -I'm- really grateful."
"Yeah well, you promised pie."
She laughed and it sounded pretty even bouncing off the concrete. Seriously, Dean was gonna have to stay way, way away.
"I knew I had you hooked when I mentioned pie. I guess that was manipulative of me but I really don't think we could have done it without you guys. Seriously, you dah best."
Dean snorted and noted that it didn't sound pretty. "You could have."
"Pffft. then you'd only have two new neighbors because I'd have died of heat stroke." She paused and reflected. "Or I would have killed Drae and Stag."
Dean wanted to see the look on her face because she sounded like she meant it but he didn't want to risk tripping and braining himself of the stairs.
They were near the seventh floor exit. Dean bludgeoned open the door with his foot because it had a way of sticking and blocked it for Graves to pass.
She walked in front of him in the hall and good lord he was seriously glad she hadn't been leading on the stairs because he would have tripped.
Freaky weird new neighbor girl. Hands. Off, Dean, he was telling himself as they reached her door.
Graves turned, smiling again. "But like I promised, it's gonna be the best pie you've ever tasted."
Dean blinked down at her sweat covered, beaming face and knew he was in deep shit.
"Yeah, totally worth it."
Three mattresses, two chairs, one digital piano, a couch, and a shit ton of boxes later they had done it. It had taken them the better part of the morning and afternoon, but by Satan's beard they had done it. Sweating from the oppressive Texas heat and beyond caring, the six lay strewn around the girls newly filled apartment. No one really spoke. The effort seemed too great and besides, there was now a familiarity in the group that only slaving for hours could build.
"I need a beer." Dean said to the general agreement of all.
"But we don't have any." Stag said, "only overly warm wine."
"When I worked in a vineyard, I got used to enjoying wine warm. Brings out the character and intensity of the flavors," Castiel said from where he sat on the floor, back pressed against the piano stand, legs splayed straight out in front of him.
"We have a six pack in the fridge." Sam said absently from the couch, staring blankly at the revolving ceiling fan. Their refrigerator seemed too far away, it might as well be in Europe.
Dean grunted as he pushed up from one of the stools. "I'll go, this isn't a celebration without beer."
Graves also stood as Dean shuffled stiffly towards the door.
"I'll dig up some snacks. You guys cool with nachos?"
Positive groans sounded from various bodies.
"I'd help you," Drae mumbled from a pile of towels and blankets. "But I. Just. Can't. Move." Her arms flopped about her like the useless wings of a penguin.
"S'ok, l'll manage."
Dean returned with the beer just about the time Graves was popping the food into the oven and everyone grabbed a beverage. Companionable silence descended until the oven timer chimed and the smell of crispified cheese and beans roused the group. Like a cloud of vultures, they collectively swooped down upon the tray as Graves pulled it from the oven.
"Hey, I didn't burn it!" She exclaimed triumphantly.
"I knew you could do it!" Stag remarked at the same time Drae muttered "That's a first."
"They look amazing but to be honest I'd eat anything at this point." Sam said, dragging a portion of molten cheese onto a paper plate.
"Anything? I don't know, I don't think I'll ever be hungry –or brave enough- to eat anything Cas makes again." Dean managed to say around a massive mouthful. The girls exchanged curious eyebrows.
"Don't you want any, Castiel?" Stag asked, noticing the dark haired man hadn't dived in like the rest.
"I try not to partake in any faire that's come from an animal, cheese included." He said, even though his eyes looked decidedly wistful towards the rapidly disappearing food.
"Oh, well, that's nice of you." Stag said, again at the same time Dean mumbled "It's fucking stupid."
Drae and Graves shot each other amused glances while Sam not-so-stealthily jabbed Dean in the ribs with his elbow. "You know," Drae offered, brandishing a chip dripping in cheese- she tended to pick around the prominently bean bites- in Cas's general direction. "I actually tried that vegan thing once in high school." Her declaration was met with surprised looks from Graves and Stag.
"I… didn't know that." Graves said after a second.
Stag looked mildly hurt at the prospect of being deprived of this aspect of Drae's personality for so long, and the dark-haired girl was quick to continue. "It lasted until the next time my Dad cooked bacon."
Dean hummed around his chewing before saying, "I guess," He swallowed his mouthful, "I could understand not eating the yogurt and cottage cheese and shit, but bacon," He paused and closed his eyes in blissful imagination. "Bacon is one of the single most precious resources known to mankind."
Drae nodded sagely in agreement, even as Sam rolled his eyes. "I've never particularly enjoyed the thought of eating a pig's ass," he muttered sarcastically. His comment was met with two sudden frowns.
Taking initiative, Stag jumped in before the situation could escalate further. "Hey Castiel, if you're hungry, I could make something else? We don't have a lot in the way of groceries, but could make a kale salad for us."
Cas's eyes widened hopefully. "I adore Kale," he breathed in a way that probably meant something closer to, "I adore you and all you touch becomes good and pure in my sight."
Dean snorted around his latest mouthful of cheese. "Whatever man," he grunted. "More for us."
As Stag pulled a chopping board from a drawer and directed Cas towards a head of the leafy greens in the fridge, Graves turned her attention to the other two guys. "So," she questioned, leaning on the countertop, "What exactly do you have to do to get banished from the pool?"
Dean and Sam exchanged decidedly embarrassed and mildly panicked expressions. "Well…"
