I don't know if this has been done before, but I haven't seen any so if it has, I'm not copying you, I swear.

This is my Notting Hill inspired Destiel fic. I hope you like it.

Enjoy!

...

Chapter 1

The poster was ten feet tall and spanned nearly the length of the building. At one end ran the title UTOPIA and underneath it, COMING SOON. At the other, Dean Winchester's impossibly green eyes stared out from an equally impossibly symmetrical face, his expression stern as Castiel looked up from his spot down on the pavement. He contemplated, as he waited for the light to change, that even if that were Dean Winchester staring down at the world from way up there, he would likely still take no notice of Castiel all the way down there on the ground.

He sighed, stomach twisting as it always did when he allowed himself to ruminate on the fact that Dean Winchester was alive and breathing somewhere in the world, in all of his perfect glory, and he would never know Castiel even existed.

Someone nudged past him and he was shocked out of his reverie to find that the light had turned green and people were rushing in droves to cross the street. Castiel seamlessly merged into the crowd, becoming one with it so smoothly, a part of him felt he might easily loose himself in the faceless throngs of people that populated the greater Chicago area.

He walked the block and a half from his townhouse to the bookshop he ran with his brother Gabriel, Novak & Sons. He had inherited it from his father who had inherited it from his father who had opened the pokey little shop when he'd immigrated from Poland after fleeing Warsaw following the nazi occupation during the second world war. Against all odds, the tiny shop with the strange, foreign sounding name, had survived through the forties and fifties and sixties, passing from father to son until Castiel had taken ownership. He could still remember the day when his father, hands steady despite the wrinkles that graced the skin, had handed him the keys in a gesture that was more ceremonial than anything else seeing as how Castiel himself had been working in the shop since he'd been tall enough to reach the register.

The photo still sat on the wall behind the counter, him and his father, arms around one another, smiling for the camera as Amelia snapped the photo. Once the shutter click had sounded, Claire had come rushing forward from where she had been waiting patiently by her mother's knee and Castiel could remember swooping her up, her five year old face lighting up with glee as her golden hair fanned out, arms held out as he lifted her into the air, sunlight catching her locks and illuminating them, shining like a halo as she laughed.

He sighed and tried not to think too much about that time when they were happy, before he had gone and screwed everything up.

The bell tinkled as he entered and Gabriel looked up from the magazine he had been perusing, his feet propped up on the counter as he lounged.

"Oh for pete's sake Gabe, if you insist on reading those at work, could you at least cover them up with a book? I could have been a child."

Gabriel smirked but dutifully accepted the book that Cas handed him to cover up the picture of a mostly naked, busty blond staring seductively out from the pages of the Casa Erotica magazine he'd been reading.

"You're gonna have to lighten up sometime Cassie," Gabriel commented, "Get that stick out of your ass so someone can stick something else up it."

Cas choked on his coffee.

"Good lord Gabriel could you be any more crass?"

"You want me to run out and pick one up for you?" His brother continued, gesturing to the magazine and blatantly unperturbed by Castiel's discomfort, "Maybe something with Dean Winchester on the cover?"

Cas blushed.

"I don't think Dean Winchester has ever done porn Gabe."

"No, but he looks pretty snazzy in this month's issue of GQ."

Cas didn't comment.

"You already have it don't you."

Cas continued to plead the fifth.

"I bet you have it stuffed under your mattress with all your other gay porn."

Cas rolled his eyes and stalked into his dingy little office, slamming the door for good measure. It was a childish way to end the argument but Gabriel always seemed to bring out the most childish behaviour in him. Probably because his older brother was so immature himself.

Cas sighed and sat down in the ancient office chair that groaned and squeaked with his weight, and booted up the old PC. E-mails, nothing urgent, still no response from Amelia. He had been sending her messages everyday for nine months and still nothing. He couldn't really blame her, and yet the situation hadn't been entirely his fault and surely her dislike of him and his - as she put it - 'choices' shouldn't prevent her from allowing him to see his own daughter.

He sighed and glanced over at the most recent school photo of Claire that sat framed on his desk. Her expression was serene, almost serious, a trait she shared with her father who had always been the quiet, watchful type, much more comfortable observing from the outskirts than joining in. Of course, she was also her mother's child and was consequently much more adept at making friends than Castiel had ever been. His mouth curved into a soft smile as he stroked his fingers over the photograph. Hopefully she wouldn't have grown too much by the time Amelia cooled off and allowed him back into Claire's life.

He tore his gaze away and turned back to the computer, concentrating on replying to what little messages he had received and trying really, very hard not to dwell on the family he had lost.

...

It was nearly noon by the time he emerged from the office. Gabriel was in much the same spot as he had been when Castiel had entered and, apart from him, the shop was empty.

"Anyone been in?" Cas asked hopefully, knowing full well the answer. There were security monitors in his office and a bell above the door.

"Not a soul." Gabe answered, not looking up from his reading material. He had the skin-mag tucked into a copy of The Children's Illustrated Bible and Cas rolled his eyes, contenting himself with the fact that his older brother would for sure be going to hell.

"Say, I was thinking of nipping over to Angel Cakes, seeing how things are running over there and maybe picking us up some lunch. What do you say?"

Cas shrugged.

"Just so long as it has more nutrients than calories."

Gabriel gave an overly dramatic eye roll and turned to leave.

"You're no fun Cassie bear!"

"So I've been told." He murmured to himself as the bell tinkled and the door shut.

He glanced around at the mess that was the register area with an exasperated tisk and cursed Gabriel's name as he set about tidying up.

The bell tinkled again and Cas had a snarky remark ready on the tip of his tongue about Gabriel leaving his phone behind for the hundredth time which died the moment he looked up and realized that, one, the man standing in the entryway of his store was not Gabriel having come back to fetch something he'd left behind, two, this was in fact a paying customer and there had been an unfortunate shortage of those in the last little while, and three, the man standing in the doorway of his little shop dwarfed by the high rises and skyscrapers of Chicago, the man in the black V-neck and fashionably torn jeans pulling off sunglasses that looked to cost more than Castiel's monthly salary, that this man, with shining green eyes and a perfectly symmetrical face, was none other than Dean fucking Winchester.

Castiel froze as the movie star folded his sunglasses, hung them off the low v-neck of his t-shirt, and scanned the room. The store was tiny and Cas was suddenly, horribly aware of how dusty it was and how dingy it looked with the threadbare carpet and manual cash register that stuck and didn't automatically calculate change. Those green eyes that Cas had spent an embarrassingly long amount of time staring at from various magazines and Google image searches swept across the shop until they landed on Cas standing and staring like an idiot.

He smiled and Cas' knees nearly buckled.

"Hey."

Cas gulped, Dean's voice was even deeper in person and it was sending blood rushing southwards. He shifted behind the counter and nodded.

"Hello." It sounded feeble and pathetic so he added, "Welcome."

Dean frowned but continued to smile and nodded.

"Thanks."

He turned and moved off to peruse the shelves.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?"

Dean stopped and turned.

"Birthday present for my brother. He's a nerdy type. Super smart. I'm not really into the whole...reading thing." He gestured idly to the whole store, "Although I do enjoy a good Vonnegut now and again."

Castiel could feel his heart pounding and his palms begin to moisten. He was having a conversation with Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester was speaking to him. Dean Freaking Winchester was in his store! And he liked Kurt Vonnegut. Take that Gabriel, Dean Winchester isn't just a pretty face, he has depth.

"I love Kurt Vonnegut."

Dean stared, as though waiting for more, but Cas' mind had gone blank, so he smiled politely, nodded, and moved off.

As soon as he was out of sight Cas dropped his head to the counter.

I love Kurt Vonnegut? What the hell was that? He had a BA in English for Christ's sake, he could give a whole lecture on Vonnegut off the cuff.

He straightened and began tidying up the place, trying to forget that the source of nearly every dirty fantasy he'd had in the past three years was currently browsing the historical fiction section.

An indeterminate amount of time later, as Cas was trying to distract himself by updating the books, a heavy thump broke him from his day dream in which he and Dean had ended up making out pretty ferociously in the rare books alcove, and he glanced up only to have the breath knocked out of him again by a pair of impossibly green eyes.

"Found something?" He asked, wishing the trembling in his voice was less noticeable. He glanced down at the chosen book. It was a rare one on various ancient mythologies. He glanced back up in time to see Dean shrug.

"Sammy likes old stuff and myths."

Cas smiled as he rang the item in.

"Are you close with your brother?"

Dean's expression went cold as he pulled out his wallet.

"Not really no." He answered, his tone suggesting that the subject was off limits.

Cas nodded and took the proffered bills. The register opened with a ding and he gathered the requisite change, holding it out as he tore the receipt.

"Well, I hope the present goes down well."

Dean stared at him as he took his change and the receipt.

"Will you be needing a bag?"

The man nodded but didn't speak and Cas fumbled for one, the plastic refusing to separate despite the fact that it had been doing so easily for the past two decades. He chuckled nervously as the bag finally gave way and Castiel shoved the book in as smoothly as he could manage (which was not smooth at all and made even more clumsy by the fact that his hands wouldn't stop shaking).

"Well…"

They stood in silence, Castiel's mind frantically casting about for any scrap of conversational gold that might trick this adonis into thinking that he was funny and interesting and intelligent, and coming up embarrassingly empty.

"Enjoy your time in our fair city."

Dean's face did that weird thing again when he smiled and frowned at the same time. He was still maddeningly handsome when he did it though and Castiel was almost angry at him for it, or at least he would be if it weren't for the fact that the high counter was hiding a big reaction to the man's face. And hands and hair and voice.

"You're a weird dude you know that?" He commented as he turned to leave.

"So everyone keeps telling me." Cas answered.

And then he was gone. From the store, from his life, and Castiel sat down in the tall chair that Gabriel had vacated, wondering if a) that had really just happened, and b) if he had really sounded as phenomenally stupid as he thought he had.

The damn bell tinkled again and Gabriel strode in with half a doughnut in his hand, the other half in his mouth and a blueberry bran muffin in his other which he presented to Cas once he reached the counter.

"Here you go little brother." He managed through the mass of half desiccated fried dough that filled his mouth, "Healthiest thing on the menu."

Cas took the muffin and stared at it.

"You do realize you actually have to put the food in you're mouth right? Humans have not yet gained the ability to create their own energy through photosynthesis."

Cas looked up at his brother.

"You'll never guess who was just in here." He said breathlessly, still foregoing the muffin in favour of rehashing every moment of Dean Winchester's little sojourn into Castiel's small, unremarkable life.

"Who?" Gabriel perked up, spinning around as though they might still be there, "Someone famous? Was it someone famous?" He spun back, "Please don't tell me Barak and Michelle stopped by and I wasn't here. Or ooh ooh! It wasn't Carmelita was it?"

Gabriel was practically vibrating at this point and Castiel didn't have to imagine all the crap he'd have to put up with if his vexatious older brother found out Cas had been a complete spaz in front of his not so secret celebrity crush, one mister Dean Winchester.

"No." He answered, staring down at the muffin and beginning to pick at it. "It wasn't anyone famous. Actually it was nothing." He cleared his throat, "Do you want some coffee? I think I'm going to go for some coffee. Want anything?"

Gabe slipped in behind him, nabbing the seat Cas vacated as he stood and moved out from behind the counter.

"Oh, maybe a frappuccino with a few extra squirts of caramel. And don't you dare let them skimp on the whipping cream."

Cas nodded and stepped outside, the warm, late spring sun beat down and he breathed deeply, letting the breath out slowly, trying to get the anxiety and embarrassment of his encounter with the movie star to leave. It had happened, it was over, time to get back to his empty, monotonous life.

Unfortunately, the day was only just beginning.