A/N: A sort of catch-all for drabbles relating to my AU fic, Parallax. One doesn't need to read that in order to read this, although everything will make considerably more sense if you do. If you have a suggestion or request, hit me up with it and I'll see what I can do.

This first one is not so drabble-ish. I blame Balthazar.

Summary: Cas turns 30, reluctantly. Warnings for, well, nothing, except hints of Cas/Balthazar. This started out an attempt to explain Gabriel's car and… mutated. Set the Thanksgiving before Parallax begins.


There are several problems with Castiel's birthday.

First and foremost, it's in late November, which is just generally a horrible time for a birthday. The weather starts getting nasty around then, and there's the whole Thanksgiving mess- he can't count the times he's been told he's getting his presents a few days late, so people can take advantage of Black Friday sales . And, of course, that's right when the college students stop celebrating the beginning of football season and start settling in to do some serious cheering, which naturally makes bars and restaurants, or any establishment with a television set, a dangerous place to be.

The second problem is, it came about two years too late. He's the only younger sibling Gabriel has, and so has somehow become his special project. As much as he really does love his brother, when November 23rd rolls around, Cas starts looking for places to hide.

Gabriel is firmly of the belief that every birthday is to be celebrated as if it's the last, because it might be. He'd made Cas' twenty-first a memorable one- or not, depending on your definition of 'memorable', as Cas certainly doesn't remember it. On the other hand, he has been assured by multiple people that the tattoo is small enough to be tasteful, and actually looks pretty good.

The final problem is that he's had too many of them. He decides this when someone sends him an e-card and he finds himself staring at the great big 30 on his computer screen.

Which is probably why, after almost a decade of doing the smart thing, he calls Gabriel and asks which is the best bar in town.


It's noisy, of course, and crowded, and KU is playing that night so Cas can't hear himself think over the screaming and the cheering as the Jayhawks score their third field goal of the quarter. It doesn't matter much anyways, as Gabriel does something to mortally offend the busty blond bartender and ends up wearing his third beer.

Bar Number Two is slightly out of town, so the screaming fans are locals instead of students. The bartender is male, youngish and attractive. Cas is contemplating making a serious go at securing a phone number when the ref gives a call that the audience disagrees with, and one man puts his glass through the television screen and another puts his fist through the first man's face.

Bar Number Three, Cas switches to scotch.


He wakes up smelling like sex, which is never a good sign when accompanied by a hangover this bad. He groans and tries to say something, then stops when he hears his voice- even rougher than normal, which makes sense because he gets pretty damn vocal when he's drunk.

"Nothing like the sound of whimpering in the morning," a familiar voice says dryly from somewhere above him. He lifts his head a little from the pillow he'd been trying to smother himself with.

"Balthazar?" he asks, and when he gets a hum of agreement, lets out a sigh. "Thank God."

Balthazar barks out a short laugh. "Well, I have to say, I haven't heard that one before." There's a dip in the bed as Balthazar settles next to him. The blanket is peeled off his back and he feels a kiss pressed against the base of his neck.

"While I would love to stay and take advantage of your.. more coherent, shall we say, frame of mind, I have a conference to get to."

Cas blinks and frowns into his pillow. After a moment's consideration he levers himself onto his elbows and looks at Balthazar.

He's the head of the theater department at KU, which makes him an invaluable asset, directing some of the more open-minded students in Cas' direction as models and offering his services as makeup artist. They'd been roommates in college, where the very first day, Balthazar had cheerfully offered Cas casual, no-strings-attached sex whenever he wanted it. Cas has taken him up on it a few times over the years. Better Balthazar, whom he knows and mostly trusts, than some random stranger.

"I thought that conference thing was on Thanksgiving," he says, and winces again at his own voice. It somehow seems rude to ask exactly how many times they'd gone at it last night, but the answer is obviously multiple times, for his voice to be this bad.

Balthazar freezes in the act of putting on a suit jacket over his t-shirt. After a moment he completes the motion, tugging briskly on the sleeves and running his palms down his sides.

"On the other hand, it is considered fashionable to arrive late to these things, and something tells me I don't want to miss this."

"Where's Gabriel?" Cas asks, brain still not functioning up to speed. Something is insisting that he should be panicking right about now, but he hasn't yet figured out why.

"Room 418, just down the hall," Balthazar says.

"We're in a hotel?"

"Oh, even better. We're in Kansas City."

"Kansas-" And there it is, the panic, because it's Thanksgiving and he's in Kansas City and Rachel is going to mount his head on a sharp pointy stick. He said he'd be there at noon to help her get ready, and it's-

He pauses in the middle of scrambling for his clothes and spares a glance at the clock, feels his face lose what little blood it had left. Eleven-thirty.

"I hope last night was good for you," he says to Balthazar. "Because my sister is going to castrate me."

"Well then, before she does, might I suggest-"

"No."


Thankfully, Balthazar had paid for the room Gabriel's in, so he has a keycard. Which is good, as it turns out, for Gabriel had apparently discovered the minibar.

"I'm feeling somewhat less than proud of my association with you Novak boys at the moment," Balthazar says as he stands over the unconscious man. He hadn't quite made it to the bed, but at least he's still wearing most of his clothes.

"Just tell me he's still breathing," Cas says wearily as he grabs the ice bucket and heads into the bathroom and over to the sink.

"Alive, if not well," Balthazar calls a moment later. Cas rejoins him, looks down at his brother for a moment. Then he upends the half-full bucket over Gabriel's face.

Once the spluttering and swearing dies down, Cas kicks him- gently- in the ribs.

"Get up, Gabriel. It's Thursday."

"Can't be," Gabriel slurs. "Yesterday was Thursday."

Cas looks immediately at Balthazar, who shrugs and shakes his head a little in response.

"Doesn't matter, we need to go. Get up." He orders, nudging his brother again.

It takes both Cas and Balthazar to get him properly upright, and one of them has to stay close enough for him to grab in case he starts to fall, but he's finally up and moving. They take the elevator and do the Hangover Shuffle through the lobby- thank God it's a holiday, Cas thinks to himself, the reaction from the hotel staff alone is bad enough- and make it to the parking lot without incident.

There, naturally, they run into another snag.

"Where is my car?" Gabriel asks, very conversationally. Cas, shoulder-to-shoulder with him, can feel him tensing.

"Ah, yes, that's right," Balthazar says suddenly, and steps forward and turns to face the brothers. "You," and he points to Cas, "got a call about an hour ago, saying your," Gabriel here, "car was ready to be picked up."

"I got the call?" Cas asks.

"Something happened to my car?" Gabriel snaps darkly. From the way Balthazar leans back, it seems he's finally realized that happy cheery Gabriel is a bit possessive when it comes to his wheels.

"I have the address, and I have a car," Balthazar says, holding up his keys.

"You have that conference," Cas begins.

"What, miss out on this and get stuck paying nine dollars to see the next Hangover sequel? I don't think so."

"I don't like him," Gabriel says as Balthazar heads off. Cas doesn't bother to answer, just grabs his arm and hauls him after his friend.


The address leads them to a body-and-paint shop, which makes both the Novaks more than a little apprehensive.

"Why did they call me?" Cas asks, not for the first time. Balthazar grimaces and shoots a dark look over his shoulder- Gabriel is sitting behind him and is occasionally drumming on the back of his seat in expression of his displeasure with the situation as a whole.

"From the way he was talking, it sounds like you paid," the teacher says finally.

"Paid for what?" Gabriel demands, leaning forward.

"I don't know, he didn't give too much detail. Speaking of paying," and he looks into the rear view mirror, "how exactly does a college janitor afford a Corvette?"

There's an awkward sort of silence. Cas glances back, meets Gabriel's eyes.

"Michael bought it, and sold it to Gabriel for half-price," he says after a moment, and Balthazar gives a soft 'oh'.

Michael is the Novak family's prodigal son. There is a nine-year gulf between him and the second-oldest, Raphael, and thirteen years between him and Castiel. Michael's solution to this, and to the military career that keeps him away for years at a time, is to give his siblings the paycheck he doesn't really use. Cas is more familiar with his signature than his face.

Anyone who's been around their family for any length of time knows better than to ask about Michael.

Balthazar parks next to the empty, dark building and doesn't quite manage to kill the engine before Gabriel is out of the car. Before he reaches the shop door, it opens and a grizzled man comes out to speak to him. The other two stay in the car.

"It might be wise to ask why they're open on a holiday, but apparently only for you," Balthazar says thoughtfully, and Cas groans. A moment later Gabriel comes back over and slides back into his seat.

"Around back," he says, then leans forward and jabs at Cas with a folded piece of paper. It turns out to be the invoice. Cas skims his eyes over it, focuses briefly on the number circled at the bottom, then refolds it and tucks it away into his pocket.

Once again, they're barely parked before Gabriel is out.

"Is this because it's an expensive new toy, or because it's from Michael?" Balthazar asks as the door slams. Cas shrugs.

"I don't know. Probably both." Whether or not he seems like it, Gabriel is the most family-oriented Novak. He's had the hardest time of them all accepting that Michael is never going to be a part of their lives.

"Also, just out of curiosity, can you even afford this?"

Cas thinks of a week spent in St Louis this summer, and three pictures sold, each fetching six figures.

"If Gabriel asks, it's only a couple hundred," he says, and Balthazar snorts.

"Right, like I'm really going to let myself get sucked into the middle of a Novak Family Drama. He asks, I say what I saw, and I hide under my desk until the shouting's done."

Cas frowns at him but says nothing. It's a wise philosophy, and certain proof that Balthazar knows his family a little too well.

"Well, damn," Balthazar says suddenly, and Cas looks out the window at the car backing out of the shop garage. A moment later he's scrabbling for the door handle, and as soon as he's free, he shoots over to Gabriel's side.

The Corvette, once a simple black, is now a color best described as acid green, with stylized flames on the hood and washing back along the sides, black fading into gold at the end. Gabriel makes a noise like a mouse that's been stepped on.

Balthazar, who had been talking to the garage worker, comes over and stands on Cas' other side. "You've already paid," he says quietly. "And there was an extra thousand in there, so they'd get it done by this morning." He raises his voice, catching Gabriel's attention. "It's safe to drive as is, but it will take a few days to dry completely, so try not to let anything touch it. Just to be sure."

"Thank you, Balthazar," Cas says, and finds he means it. Casual, no-strings-attached sex shouldn't include morning-after chauffeuring and humoring the plastered brother.

"Thank you, Castiel, for making a boring conference a bit more interesting," Balthazar answers with a chuckle. He catches Cas' chin with his long fingers, turns his face and gives him a chaste kiss. When Cas says nothing, he leans in again. This time, Cas lets him in, opens his mouth and swipes his tongue against Balthazar's. Then he pulls away, ignoring the disappointed moan.

"Tell me again why we didn't make this a regular thing," Balthazar mutters.

"I don't like sharing," Cas says, and Balthazar gives him a rueful smile.

"That'll do it." He nods a goodbye to Gabriel, gives Cas one last, quick kiss, then turns and heads over to his car.

Cas watches him go, then looks over to his brother. Naturally Gabriel has gotten over his shock and his sulk, and is grinning broadly at him.

"Aww, lookit that," he coos. "Little Cassie got some last night."

"Keys," Cas orders, holding out his hand, and Gabriel scoffs. "You're still drunk, Gabriel. I'm driving."

"What, a guy isn't allowed to tease his brother anymore?" Gabriel smirks. "Besides, you have no idea how to handle anything with more horsepower than a golf cart."

"I haven't had anything to drink in twelve hours, at least. And I'll learn." When Gabriel lifts his eyebrows in clear challenge, Cas clears his throat and glances briefly away, feeling his face warming. "Balthazar likes his partners with loosened inhibitions, not bordering on comatose. Keys."

"Contrary to whatever impression I may give you, I don't actually want any details about your sex life," Gabriel tells him. There's a sharp bang from the shop, and both brothers look over to find the grizzled man staring at them.

Gabriel gives Cas a knowing grin and tosses him the keys, circles to the Corvette's passenger side and gets in. Cas looks at the man, tries to think of something reassuring to say, then gives up and gets in the car.

"I hate you sometimes," he tells Gabriel solemnly, and the blond laughs.

"Wouldn't be doing my job right if you didn't," he shoots back. For that, Cas floors it as soon as he's shifted out of park.

It takes about five minutes for Gabriel to peel himself off the upholstery.


The highway is empty, and the weather is decent, so Castiel flies down the road. He's already decided he likes this car too much to drive it ever again, and so makes this one chance worth it.

"He has a conference on Thanksgiving?" Gabriel asks randomly, starting the only conversation of the trip.

"Every year," Cas confirms. After a moment, the two brothers exchange a knowing look.

"Theater majors," Gabriel scoffs, and goes back to looking out the window.


Rachel blames Gabriel for the whole thing, of course, while Raphael just looks at them like they're both idiots, which is rather closer to the truth.

They figure out the highlights of their trip when Cas gets his next credit card statement. Gabriel goes white for a moment when he sees how much Cas paid to repaint his car, but he follows Cas' example and says nothing about it.

That Christmas, Gabriel's car gets another paint job. It stays the eye-catching green, but loses the flames.

Cas never does drive it again.