It was warm. Warmer than usual for spring in New York City. Dean had already removed his dark suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves to expose his toned forearms. He was leaning over the huge mahogany desk in the middle of the large office, looking over green and white and blue papers strewn across the top. Behind the large black leather swivel chair he sat in, stood a wall of floor to ceiling windows, looking over the proud sky line, water glinting just below the horizon. Dean looked over finance reports, HR complaints, and sales projections for the quarter. It was harder than most people thought, being the CEO of a major corporation such a Tritech, but he loved it.

In fact, any day of the week, he'd rather be at work, rather than home with Lisa. He twisted the gold band on his left ring finger when his office phone beeped, followed by a crackly, gravelly voice.

"Ms. Milton is here for her 3 o'clock appointment, Mr. Winchester."

Dean grinned and hit the intercom button to respond. "Send her in."

Not twenty seconds later, the vivacious redhead sauntered into his office, closing the door behind her and grinning. "Hello, Mr. Winchester." Anna purred, tossing a lock of red hair behind her shoulder as she started unbuttoning her blouse.

"Well, hello Ms. Milton." Dean stood and circled the desk, crossing the blue carpet to the woman. His callused hands came to rest over her hips and he smirked softly as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to her neck and trailing down to her exposed collarbone.

45 minutes later, Anna Milton walked back into the lobby of Tritech, headed for the elevator. She smiled warmly, her hair mussed and lipstick smeared, at the man behind the reception desk.

It was, technically, still cheating, that would gnaw in Dean's gut forever, but when a couple was as mutually miserable as he and Lisa, maybe an exception could be made. She'd opened the door with her affair 10 years ago. The affair that had yielded 'their' - and he used the term loosely - son, Ben. He knew the boy wasn't his. He and Lisa hadn't lain as man and wife for 12 years.
After she'd conceived, they'd talked about their mutual unhappiness and agreed to have an open marriage. Dean was a public figure, an important and rich man, and he didn't want to be all over the tabloids with a messy divorce. That, and he and Lisa had married when he was 21 and she was 18. He hadn't had anything but an old car then, and he didn't sign a pre-nup. Hadn't seen the point. Now he was paying for it, but he was still paying less than he would if he were paying alimony.

The clock across the room ticked 5 pm and Dean stood, sighing and stretching his back. He pulled on his suit jacket and adjusted it around his shoulders. He piled his papers neatly and grabbed his briefcase before heading through the large oak doors that divided his office from the lobby.

"Good night, Mr. Winchester." The dark haired, blue eyed receptionist said pleasantly.

"G'night Clarence." Dean paused at the elevator, hand hovering over the button as he turned back to the receptionist. "Hey, I need you to stay late tonight to finish the filing from last month."

Clarence nodded politely. "Of course, Mr. Winchester. Also, it's Castiel."

"What's Castiel?"

"My name. I've been working here for two and a half years, sir."

"Yeah, right. Sorry." Dean waved a noncommittal hand and nodded, turning and hitting the button for the elevator. He stepped inside and turned around, the doors closing as he hit the parking garage button. If he had had x-ray vision, he would've seen the middle finger the receptionist flung angrily in the air at him after the doors closed.

That night had gone as every other. Lisa and Dean had been cold to one another, never speaking more than a sentence at a time. Ben had stayed in his room most the night, playing video games. They'd had dinner, linguini, which Dean had cooked. After Ben went to bed, Dean went to his office to do some work before bed, then at ten he showered. He was a man of habit, going through the same rut every night, the same ritual. Well, every night except for Thursday. He always looked forward to Thursdays. At least, he had been for the last six years. Dean set his alarm and rolled over in the queen bed in the spare room which had become his once Lisa decided she couldn't sleep in a bed with a man she didn't love or respect.

He closed his lids and relaxed under the feather duvet, thankful it was Wednesday.

A/N : Just wanted to say that all of this is only possible due to my wonderful, amazing, and creative co-conspirator and RP partner Meg.