Just some random little story that popped into my head.
Enjoy.
There was nothing Dean Winchester loved more than baking a good pie. His mother had taught him how to bake when he was just 8 years old. Dean had always been close to his mother, spending most of his free time at home with her in the kitchen. His family had moved around a lot, meaning Dean never got the chance to make proper friends; which lead to him spending more time at home than other boys his age.
After his mother died, baking was probably one of the only things that got him to smile. Which was one of the two main reasons he opened up Desserts to Die For, his very own bakery, in a quaint small business section of Palo Alto.
The second reason was his little brother Samuel, affectionately referred to as Sam or Sammy most of the time. Sam was a student at Stanford University and Dean was responsible for half of the schools $50,000 tuition. Luckily, after Sam's many scholarships and awards the final price wasn't quite as daunting.
He had followed Sam out to sunny California after their fathers traveling salesmen business went under and John was no longer able to support Sam's education. It had taken months of persuasion before John finally listened to Dean and let him go after his brother.
Dean regarded this as the best decision he had ever made, although he did occasionally feel a pang of regret for leaving his widower father in the middle of nowhere Kansas. He would call occasionally to check on him, having chats about life and whatever else came up. The last time he checked on his father, Dean was surprised and somewhat relieved to find that he had moved and gotten a job at a small saloon in Nebraska.
Dean enjoyed his life in California; he had a few customers that quickly become friends and a few relationships that had come and gone, but over all he had nothing to complain about. He was happy.
In the middle of October, half way through a particularly busy, and incredibly stressful day there was nothing Dean wanted more than to tell every patron in his shop to get the hell out so he could go home and relax.
As an exceptionally picky customer seemed to take ages to decide on a pie, Dean took a moment to run through all of the things that had gone wrong over the course of the day.
To begin, his alarm never went off. He awoke groggily at 7:30, an hour after he was supposed to open the shop.
He jumped out of bed, pulled on whatever clothing was lying on his floor and ran like hell to his car. Just as he was about to yank open his front door the small flashing light of his answering machine caught his eye. There was a moment of hesitation before he rushed over and hit play. It was the scratchy voice of his assistant, Gabriel, calling to say he wasn't going to be able to come into work due to a sudden illness. Dean ran his hand through his hair and swore; he hated working alone.
As he pulled up to his shop, he jumped out of his car, barely remembering to grab the keys out of the ignition before slamming the door shut. Shouting an apology at his baby he wrenched the back door open and immediately started pre-heating ovens for the day.
Luckily, Dean observed, no one was waiting outside the shop. He signed in relief as he grabbed his apron off the counter. His moment of peace was soon cut short as he noticed a lack of heat coming from the main oven in the back.
He groaned, when he bought the place the previous owner warned that the oven was on its way out, but Dean had never taken the warning to heart. It had worked for three years until about the middle of last week. The thing had finally given out and Dean had to call a repairman. Unfortunately the repairman said the next time the oven failed, it would be time for a new one, and Dean just couldn't afford that.
Signing he stalked to the front of the store and flipped the sign from 'closed' to 'open', hoping no one would come in for a while. He wandered back behind the counter and started making the days pies and other desserts.
Around noon the first customer walked in, a friend of Deans and a regular, a young college student named Alfie. They chatted about the oven failure and other little things before Alfie left for his shift at some fast food restaurant. About half an hour later, the shop started filling up with the afternoon rush. It was much bigger rush than usual…
Dean was pulled out of his daydream as the finicky customer finally decided on a dark chocolate cream pie. He pulled the pie from the case and wrapped it for the woman. She paid, smiled and left. Leaving Dean to wait on the next customer in line, a man with dark hair and a tan trench coat who seemed to be having a daydream of his own; he wasn't paying any attention to the baker in front of him.
"Hey!" Dean called out to the man. When there was no response he tried again. "Dude, you're next." When the dark haired man still didn't respond, Dean gestured to the woman behind him.
"Ma'am, could you just nudge him or something?" He asked with a heavy sign. The woman rolled her eyes and gently shoved the man forward. His eyes snapped up towards the counter immediately.
Dean beckoned him forward with a little wave. "Been callin' you forever. What's the matter? Ya deaf?" When the man didn't respond Dean sighed again. "Alright, what can I get you?" He asked with a somewhat forced smile.
The man glanced down at the display counter for a minute before turning back to Dean with a smile. He pointed towards a freshly baked cherry-rhubarb pie.
"Good choice." Dean mumbled while pulling the pie out from the display and placing it on the counter. "Do you want a slice or the whole pie?" The man positioned his hands into a large circle and looked up at Dean with raised eyebrows.
"Whole. Got it. Just give me a minute to wrap it. It'll be $8.50" He called as he rushed off towards the back of the shop to look for a box. He came back a second later to find the pie gone and a 10-dollar bill in its place.
"Did he just take the pie and walk out?" Dean asked the woman now standing at the counter.
"Wasn't paying attention" she replied. "But I know what I want" She added.
"Oh, Right. What'll it be?" he questioned, as he placed the bill in the cash register. As he closed the drawer a small, scribbled 'Thanks' in the upper corner of the bill caught his eye. For some unknown reason Dean found himself fondly thinking of the strange man in the tan trench coat for the rest of the day.
Well I hoped you enjoyed.
Comments and critiques are welcomed and enjoyed.