Author's note: I think I am obsessed with music :D I get some inspirations from songs. Well, this fiction was inspired by Joe Cocker - Noubliez Jamais. I think this story is some fluff with small nostalgic notes.
To understand this fic better (I mean all emotions and nostalgia) I would suggest you listen to the music and see the video on youtube.
Also, I've never been in Paris. Though I hope I will someday :P
Anyway, here we go. Enjoy. Reviews = cookies from my side :D
October in Paris
Castiel was standing on Pont Alexandre III arch bridge and looking down at the Seine river. He was throwing some breadcrumbs into the water. There were two white swans in the river. They caught the small pieces enthusiastically, stretching their long necks. Autumn sun was reflecting on the water surface and the Seine glared blindingly. Castiel was watching the birds with a fond face. Their wings, white as pure, immaculate snow were like the clouds of heaven. The angel took his mobile out to catch the beauty of the moment. Later he would show this and many other wonderful photos to his friend. He liked to share the special moments with Dean.
The trees had turned yellow and the leaves were covering the pavements. It was October but quite warm. Castiel threw the last piece into the water and continued his walking. He walked slowly, trying to remember every small detail of this beautiful city: each tree, street, statue, monuments, even the scent of the air. The angel liked this city. He loved its beauty and rich history. There was something mystical about Paris. Whenever Castiel felt lost and disarrayed he would teleport himself here. Immediately his worries would disappear and his mind and soul were at peace.
The feeling of blissfulness enfolded the angel when he stood on top of the Montmartre hill infront of Sacre-Coeur basilica. He could see the whole city from this view. People were moving around. Some of them going down the stairs, some of them just coming up. A lot of them, mostly couples were sitting on the grass, hugging and chatting happily. Castiel looked at the basilica one more time. He closed his eyes and let the emotions flow. He felt infinite love and support. He felt his father's presence by his side.
Dark shadows started to creep out. The sun slowly started to sink beneath the horizon. Castiel walked down the stairs into the streets of Montmartre. He was walking in one of the cobblestone streets when a delicious smell touched his nostrils. The angel stopped slowly and turned his head to the left side. There was a small, nice open café with wooden chairs. Castiel recognized the smell instantly and smiled. He crossed the street and sat at one of the tables. A young and friendly waitress greeted him and asked:
"Qu'est-ce que vous voulez manger?" (what would you like to eat)
"Je prendrai une tarte aux pommes et le café noir," (I will have an apple pie and black coffee) Castiel answered softly.
She nodded and went to bring his order. Pleasant melody started to pour out of the speakers as the evening breeze tossed the yellow leaves up in the air. Castiel gently touched the thin but warm scarf around his neck and smiled at the memory.
He recalled one of the days back from his 'human days' when he caught cold and was coughing badly. His throat hurt like hell and it felt like cats were scratching it with their sharp claws. They were at the motel and Dean gave him a worried look. "Wait here" the hunter said and grabbed the keys of the car. After half an hour Dean returned. "It will keep you warm," he said and wrapped a dark blue, cotton scarf around his neck.
It was Castiel's one of the best memories. He thought of his friend who probably was at the motel sleeping. Meanwhile the waitress returned with a slice of an apple pie and steaming black coffee.
"Merci beaucoup" (thank you very much) Castiel thanked her.
The girl nodded with a smile and asked him if he wanted anything else. Castiel thought for a second and then an idea came to his mind.
Dean was sleeping on the bed when Castiel appeared in the room. The hunter was alone. Angel presumed that younger Winchester was out at the library. Dean opened his eyes at the sound of the fluttering wings and saw Castiel standing in front of his bed with his hands behind him.
"Cas?" Dean's voice sounded sleepy.
"Hello Dean," greeted him the angel.
Dean sat up and looked at his friend who fidgeted a little. "Cas, is everything alright?" Dean looked at him more thoroughly. "And where have you been, I've been waiting for you for hours."
"My apologies, I did not want to upset you. I just had to…" Castiel stuttered.
"Had to what, Cas?" the hunter asked impatiently. And then he smelled it….
Dean sniffed the air like a dog. "Do I smell a pie or I'm going crazy?" he said mostly to himself but Castiel still heard it.
"It is a pie," he answered gently and showed what he was hiding.
Dean's eyes widened with joy. "Wow, Cas. Where did you get this from? he quickly took it from the angel and put it on the table.
"From Paris," came the answer.
Dean who was cutting the pie stopped and gave his friend a bewildered look. "You just zapped here from Paris?"
"Yes. I spent there some time. I was walking in one of the streets and I smelled a familiar scent, which reminded me of you. So I decided if I brought a pie it would make you happy," Castiel shifted on his feet awkwardly.
Dean fell silent for a moment. Then he put the knife on the table and went to the angel. "Cas," he began with a cracking voice and momentarily cleared his throat. "No pie can be compared to you." The hunter looked into Castiel's eyes, gave him a sincere smile and pulled him into a tight hug.
"Thank you, Cas," he whispered.
Castiel felt something warm spreading in his chest and he felt complete. "My pleasure, Dean," he answered and closed his eyes.
The angel knew that this moment would be added to the list of his favorite memories.
The End