The farmers' market was not Dean Winchester's favorite place. He especially didn't want to spend his Saturday morning – the only day he really got to sleep in – getting up at the asscrack of dawn to spend his morning with the crunchy granola types that congregated there. But, Sam had turned on the puppy eyes and Dean had caved. Apparently, Sam needed help setting up this week because Kevin, the kid who normally helped him, was going to be gone on some kind of university mathlete competition. The whole thing was ridiculous.
So here Dean was, bleary eyed and cranky, helping Sam set out the homemade shampoos and conditioners and other body care items Sam made. They'd had to get up before the sun to make it to the market in time to get everything set up before opening time. Dean hadn't even gotten a chance to grab breakfast or a cup of coffee. And Dean really, really, really needed coffee. With feeling.
He mentioned as much to Sam, who replied with, "When we get all set up, I'll take you around and introduce you to everyone. Gabriel brings donuts and stuff usually. I'm sure you could get something from him."
Dean set the last bottle on the table and carried the stack of empty boxes back to where the Impala was parked next to Sam's truck. When he made his way back to Sam's booth, he took his time. Noticing the vendors weren't only selling fruits and vegetables like he had thought they would be.
A few booths down, a red-headed chick was selling homemade t-shirts, coffee mugs, pins and other assorted fandom wares. There was a psychic set up at the end of the row, another booth with an older man seated inside next to buckets of every flower known to man, and a blonde girl nearby selling handmade jewelry. There were several stalls spread throughout displaying seasonal fruits and vegetables, dried and fresh herbs, grass fed beef, and some even had plants and farm-fresh chicken eggs.
When he finally got back to the booth, Sam was just finishing hanging the sign. Brushing his hands off on his jeans, Sam looks over at Dean," Ready to make the rounds?"
"Sure thing Gigantor," Dean answers, smart assed grin firmly in place. Dean shrugs out of his leather jacket and tosses it into the lawn chair set up next to the display table. The sun was really starting to warm up the morning air.
Sam walked all the way to the end of the row.
"This is Missouri," he says, stopping at the psychic's booth, with a nod and a smile. "She is eerily accurate." He adds under his breath as they walk away.
Dean sneaks a glance at the round faced, brown skinned woman with knowing eyes, and a beautiful smile. "Seriously, Sam?" he scoffs, "You know I don't believe any of that woo-woo stuff."
Sam just shrugs and says, "You'll see." He stops next at the flower seller. "This is Joshua. He brings the most beautiful flowers every week. And this is Jo," he adds, after they walk a few more feet down the aisle, stopping in front of the jewelry booth. "Her work is amazing."
After Sam and Jo exchange a quick greeting, they continue towards the red-headed girl's booth. "Charlie makes all of this stuff herself." Sam says, indicating the array of items representing popular tv shows, movies and books. "You will probably love her booth. She is even more obsessed with pop culture than you are." Dean grins at Charlie, who is wearing a shirt that reads 'Hermione is my spirit animal.' She gives him the Vulcan salute, and they walk on.
The next stop, at one of the larger fruit and veggie displays, appears to be the home of a guy with the most fantastic mullet Dean has seen in years.
"This is Ash," Sam gestures towards Mullet Man. "He has a farm outside of town. Ash likes to live off the grid. He has some pretty crazy conspiracy theories. Cool guy to talk to."
Directly next to Ash's booth is a small stand advertising farm fresh eggs and a table with a cage housing a brown hen. Standing behind the stand is the skinniest, most innocent looking man Dean has ever seen.
"Hey Garth, How's it going?" Sam asks as they walk by. Garth nods back and answers. As soon as they are out of earshot, Sam adds, quietly, "Garth is probably the nicest person you will ever meet. But he does have a tendency to refer to the hens as 'his ladies'. It's a little weird, but he's perfectly harmless."
Passing a few more stalls, they stop at the one nearest Sam's. There is an array of breads, cakes, rolls, cookies, pies and other baked awesomeness spread out on the tables under the white awning.
"Hey Gabe," Sam calls to the small man standing inside the booth, wearing a white apron. "He's the one I was telling you about."
"Talking about me are you?" Gabe shoots back. If Dean didn't know better, he would think the guy was flirting with Sam. He pauses for a few moments, looking back and forth between the two. Finally, Sam's dopey grin gives him away. Dean turns, with a smirk and faces Sam, Dean's back towards Gabe, before saying, "Dude, he's like three feet shorter than you."
Sam just blushes and turns away, walking back to his booth. Dean purchases an enormous cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee from Gabriel, before heading back to Sam. Smiling to himself, Dean takes a giant bite of cinnamon roll and slouches down into his folding chair. Looking across the aisle, towards the opposite row of booths, Dean almost chokes.
"Whosat?" He manages to garble around the mouthful of cinnamon goodness, inclining his head towards the tent directly across from Sam's. A guy was setting up his booth. His hair was slightly too long, dark brown, and stuck up all around his head like he had just been thoroughly fucked. He had two days' worth of dark stubble shadowing his jaw, ratty jeans, and a well-worn t-shirt with some kind of slogan about bees on it. The guy was busy setting out jars of various sizes of dark golden honey. He even had educational signs about bees and beekeeping set up around his booth. He was also Dean's version of sex on a stick. Damn.
Sam looked across, to the tent, absently. "That's Castiel, he sells honey. He's also Gabe's little brother."
Maybe working at a farmers' market wouldn't be so bad after all.