Dean Winchester was an ordinary sort of guy, he supposed. It was the same routine every day since his Father left and Dean had been left with the shop whilst he was gone for who knows how long. Get up, set up shop, service with a smile, close up, go to bed, repeat. The money was helping put Sammy through college so he could be a big time lawyer. He couldn't have been more proud of his baby brother but he did get jealous now and again. His brother had the smarts, he had direction, and what did Dean have? A low-life business barely scraping by, a Father gone AWOL, hardly enough money to feed himself and keep a roof over his head as every penny he could spare went straight to Sammy, and no prospects whatsoever. Just a routine.

He managed to ignore all of that though, when he saw Sammy's smile with a new tale from college. He'd give anything for that smile and could never take it away from him if he tried. He just wished his Dad could be around to see it. Sammy helped out around the coffee shop at any extra shifts he could squeeze in -along with a new trainee, Rosalie- around lectures and studying, oh, and partying, despite Dean's objections.

Dean dragged himself out of bed and scanned his apartment, it was a bit of a mess but he'd have to clean it later. It was 5:00am and he needed to set up shop before the rush of morning caffeine addicts turned up. Dean didn't overly mind being a barista, in fact the work did let him meet some interesting people and hear some intriguing stories. He had a few regulars who he'd have a quick chat to, and some people just needed an ear for a while, and hey, he got tips and he liked to help, win win in his eyes.

Monday mornings were always painful. It was mid-November so his fingers were always about ready to fall off when he arrived at the shop from his apartment a few blocks away. Even in his Chevy Impala he couldn't keep out the chill. He fumbled with his keys as he stood outside the shop door, his breath clouding the window in smoky fumes pressing against it as if in an attempt to escape the cold. He finally let himself in and shed his extra layers.

As he was setting down all the chairs he remembered Sammy saying he was going to drop in today, his mood lightened considerably knowing his Monday wouldn't be completely mundane. By 5:45 he was all ready to open up properly and as he went to turn the sign on the door he noticed a figure huddled over in the mist. He frowned, whoever they were they were shaking noticeably so he hurriedly let them in. As the man, he noticed, shuffled in he heard a mumbled thanks. He moved back around the counter and when he turned he was shocked into silence.

The man before him put a hand through his ruffled mess of black hair, spikes shooting everywhere. His lips almost matched the bright blue of his eyes and his cheeks were flushed in a way that made Dean's throat tighten. The man looked at him questioningly and Dean forced himself to snap out of it.

"Hi, what would you like?" He made a gesture to the menu of drinks and snacks on the wall. He seemed to examine every last word on the menu before turning back to Dean.

"I would like a black coffee, grande, with a little extra milk please." And wow that was a deep voice, a stark contrast from his wide-eyed expression of innocence and it made Dean's voice catch in his throat as he replied.

"Sure thing." He managed to scrape out.

What was wrong with him, his insides were doing flips like his was in 6th grade or something. Everything about this guy screamed strictly a professional, right down to his sharp suit and trench coat. Except maybe his askew tie, which Dean found irritatingly endearing. He was just tired, that's all it was, over-tired, over-stressed, nothing to get worked up about. Whilst he'd been thinking his hands had mechanically been on auto pilot like they often were, concocting the man's order of coffee.

"Here you go, one black coffee, grande with a splash of extra milk." Service with a smile, however this one wasn't a conscious effort, it seemed to come from nowhere. The man ducked his head slightly with a small tug at his mouth and Dean felt certain his insides were going explode soon, maybe he was ill…

"Thank you." That voice again, damn it. The man sat down on one of the stools in front of the counter and brought the coffee to his noise, inhaling deeply and then sighing, content. Breathe Dean, he reminded himself. He dragged his eyes away from the man as he gasped in a breath. He had to distract himself.

"Dude, you look like you're gonna' turn into an icicle, how long were you out there?" He started; hopefully conversation would calm his stomach. However then the man brought his eyes back to Dean's. Okay, so maybe conversation wouldn't work then.

"Only about twenty minutes." He said quietly, averting his gaze quickly.

"Twenty minutes! Dude, what the hell? Why? Don't you like your toes?" He said shocked as to why someone would willingly wait outside in Antarctica conditions when he was clearly inside.

"You… you were not ready to receive yet. I… I don't mind waiting." He mumbled, eyes trained on the counter. Without thinking Dean reached over the counter put a hand under his face and gently pulled it up.

"Next time, just knock on the door, it's fine. Don't turn into a huge ice cube, bad for business okay, pal?" The man gulped noticeably and nodded and Dean looked at his own hand for a second before snatching it away and coughing awkwardly. He could've sworn he heard the man exhale like he'd been holding his breath.

When Dean turned back he was surprised to see an almost panicked look on the man's face as he gulped down his coffee violently, looking anywhere but at Dean.

"Woah, woah, dude, that stuff's made with boiling water, you know?!" Dean stared at the man and found his hand on his shoulder. What was going on with him?

The man opened his mouth when he looked at Dean's hand he couldn't speak. He tried again and still nothing came out. Dean frowned, confused at the man's sudden incoherency. He looked down at Dean's hand again and Dean took it away slowly, still frowning at the man in concern. He fumbled with a wallet and there was what sounded like a mumbled thanks but Dean couldn't be sure before he threw some money on the counter with a strained smile and practically ran from the shop.

"Dude, wait! This is a fifty!" Dean called but he was already gone leaving Dean standing alone with a fifty in his hand with one empty still warm coffee cup in front of him. Why did he feel so drawn to a man he'd just met? Why did the guy freak whenever he touched him? Why did he find himself touching him when he hadn't noticed? He didn't even know his name, and now he'd probably never see him again.

When Castiel arrived at the office Gabriel made a bee-line directly for him. He was wearing a new suit, blue pin-striped with a flashy expensive looking watch and sparkling shoes. His mop-head bopped along happily before stopping in front of his baby brother.

"Okay, what the hell happened? You don't look like you just saw a ghost; you look like you ate one. Spill." He said with a pointed look etched into his features as his hand dug into his pocket and scooped out a large pile of skittles which he wolfed down efficiently. Castiel sighed; he really wasn't in the mood for Gabriel's 'live-in-your-lap' approach to life as a big brother. However, he also knew he wasn't getting off without a brief explanation and he was a horrible liar so he decided to skip the dramatics and just tell him an edited version of the truth, as he often did.

"It's just a guy, okay." Gabriel gasped and bounced on the spot but his lack of speech signalled his need for more information. Castiel groaned.

"I… I just, I'm not quite sure, I just, there was something there. It doesn't matter now anyway as I opted to make a complete fool out of myself." He dropped his head into his hands dejectedly as Gabriel chuckled.

"Oh this outta' be good. What did you do, punch him? Cry? Pass out?" His grin didn't move an inch from his face despite Castiel's glare.

"No, of course not. I… I just sort of ran out of the shop because he touched my arm."

"Aha! So you met him in a shop! And at that early it could've only been to get coffee, and at that early you would've been the only one there which means it would've had to be the guy serving you!" Damn. Gabriel did always have a knack for reading Castiel like a book with font in size 72. He at least made an attempt to deny it though.

"No,"

"Save it, sister, you've been rumbled. Man, I gotta' check this dude out!" Castiel's head flew up in alarm.

"Gabriel, please, I beg you don't, I'll take you there later but please, just don't say anything, don't say a word about me or him or anything!" He pleaded, his big blue eyes clawing at Gabriel's soul. He noted Castiel's entire reaction. So, he thought to himself, this coffee guy's serious, better keep an eye on things.

"Okay sure, but you have to take me to see him, and we're finding out his name at least, if not his number."

"Gabriel."

"Okay, okay, but his name, right?"

Castiel shifted awkwardly, he'd intended to let the whole thing go and sink into his own mortification before accepting his own foolishness at even feeling anything in the first place and forgetting it had ever happened. Now Gabriel was in the loop it was a whole different ball game. His brother would push and push to get a result and if he didn't do things for himself, Gabriel would only do them for him, and that was a thought that terrified him more than anything else.

"Agreed." Gabriel smiled and went up for a triumphant high-five which Castiel half-heartedly returned before going into his office and attempting to ignore his jitters as he tried not to think of what he was going to do later on.