A/N: A bit of Thanksgiving fluff mixed with a hunt of sorts. This takes place in the Home in Motion universe after the events of Time Warp. And, of course, I don't own most of the characters, and I make no profit off of this story.

Chapter 1

Kiss the Cook

"Thanksgiving comes to us out of the prehistoric dimness, universal to all ages and all faiths. At whatever straws we must grasp, there is always a time for gratitude and new beginnings."

J. Robert Moskin

Images of Dean Winchester, his angel and a baby flooded his mind. He saw Sam Winchester and a pretty blond woman. "These are the enemy, and it isn't difficult to guess where they might be hiding. Go to Sioux Falls, my children. Go and find them."

He woke up with a splitting headache. Beside him, his wife placed her hand on his knee. "Sweetheart?" It was dark in the room, but he supposed there was enough light for her to see him holding his head. She placed her hands at either of his cheeks and stroked over his cheekbones mildly. "I thought you said this was over that once the Alpha was gone—"

"I was wrong. Others keep trying," he said softly. "I have to go to Sioux Falls. I have to start making arrangements tonight."

"What about Thanksgiving?"

"On hold," he told her, closing his eyes and leaning into the cool touch of her palms. "I'm sorry. This is important. I have to get there first." She kissed him and nodded. He would never understand how he'd gotten such an understanding wife. "Can you call Charlie while I make arrangements for the jet?"

"Of course. Will you be safe?"

"She will. Me? I'm not so sure. I'd hoped I would never have to meet the Winchesters face-to-face. No such luck."

#

Dean had Sam's computer open on the counter, and the turkey sitting in the sink, finally thawed. The thing hadn't been easy to move frozen, and his one attempt to pick it up now that it wasn't hadn't gone well. Damned thing was slippery.

He put his hands under its arms, er, wings, and began to lift it, all twenty pounds of it.

"Do you need my help?" Cas suddenly asked from behind Dean, startling him.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled as the bird went sliding back into the sink. "No. No mojo if I can help it," he said, once again trying to grab the damned turkey. "Unless this big fucker falls onto the floor or something."

"Language, Dean," Cas reminded because Johnny was now at that parroting stage.

"He's napping."

"And I was suggesting assistance of the 'non-mojo' kind." He even did the air quotes.

"You need to learn how to use those right," Dean said with a grunt as he lifted the turkey again and put it into the shiny, new roasting pan. "It's only a quote if it's something someone has already said it." The hunter looked at the bird in its pan, thinking for a moment, and disturbing even himself, that the big, plucked thing looked almost obscene splayed out like that.

He looked back at the instructions on the laptop to see what he was supposed to do next. Butter and salt on top of the skin, pats of butter under it. Make sure the baggie with the innards was out, which it was. Easy enough.

He snorted at the next line in the recipe, noting it was easy and nothing to get squeamish about. Shoving his hands under the skin of a turkey was child's play after you'd used a saw to decapitate a vampire.

Dean realized, as he was busy getting to second base with the turkey that Cas was still standing there, looking for something to do. "Why don't you get a start on peeling the potatoes?" The angel nodded and began washing them, one by one. Dean was glad to see he didn't have to remind him to cut his mojo. He wanted to do this the traditional way, as much as possible.

"When will Emma and her mother be arriving?" Cas asked.

"Any time now," Dean said. "They'll be pretty be beat when they get here. They've been driving since before dawn. With the dog." Cas made to comment about the animal, or that Dean really wasn't comfortable having it there.

"I wish she would have allowed me to bring them here."

Dean washed the excess butter off his hands, nudging his partner with his hip to make room at the sink. "Emma's mom is dealing okay with all of the weird stuff that goes on with us, but she's just not ready yet for angel express. I'm not even sure how much she'll take of the basic stuff with you guys. Do you think the others can behave themselves?"

"No, but I think they will try."

"Best we can probably hope for."

They both carried the now-clean potatoes over to the kitchen table, using their shirts to carry as many as possible in each trip. The last trip included knives to begin peeling. "Careful to only get the skin," Dean said. "We don't want to lose a lot of the potato with the peel."

Cas nodded and began his work, managing near perfection and even achieving perfectly spiral cuts around the potatoes. The hunter suspected that his partner was using his mojo anyway, maybe even unintentionally, but he was making such quick work of the potatoes that Dean wasn't going to complain. He began, instead, chopping Cas's perfectly peeled potatoes into sections and tossing them into the pot of water boiling on the stove.

Together, they made for an efficient team, and the peeling was done quickly, which gave them a little down time, time he suspected other families were spending watching football or the Thanksgiving Day parade or something. That's how it always was on TV, at least. Dean didn't follow sports. It was too difficult, moving around like he did; there was no guarantee he'd get to see the same team play more than twice before he was off to a new city with a new team to follow. He and Sammy used to watch the parade sometimes, and when Johnny got old enough, he thought he might keep up that tradition.

Dean had signed up for the turkey, gravy and mashed potatoes, so he didn't have a lot else left to do. Sheriff Mills was bringing sweet potatoes, stuffing, and green beans. Emma and her mom were bringing the pecan and pumpkin pies, plenty of them, according to Sam. Apparently, Emma had really emphasized Dean's love for pie and the sweet tooth that all of the angels had. And since they were all coming, too, there would probably be a lot of sweet stuff around the house. Sam was outside getting things set up for roasting corn on the cob, which might end up burned if he stayed chef when it was time to do the actual cooking.

For now, all Dean could do was wait.

He moved behind Cas and started rubbing his shoulders. Though he knew that his partner didn't get the aches and pains that Dean did, the hunter enjoyed the excuse for contact. He rubbed slow but firm circles at Cas's shoulder and upper back. He was rewarded for his efforts with a low, growly moan. He knew Cas well enough by now to know that the angel was enjoying it, and Dean was purposely hitting all of the spots he knew Cas liked best.

Dean barely registered the door opening for the angel's noises. He did hear the loud thudding of Sam's footsteps and looked up to the kitchen doorway to see him standing there, eyes covered by a large hand. "If you two are doing what I think you're doing, I'm going to kill you both."

"What do you think we were doing?" Cas asked. "Because I do not think the reality warrants you covering your eyes. We are fully clothed."

Sam tentatively peaked out from between his fingers. "I never know with you."

A woman, shorter with black hair and dark eyes but looking every bit like Emma, stepped to Sam's side. "They are just enjoying time together. Don't be a prude. Otherwise, I might feel the need to make sure you and Emma aren't sharing a bedroom while we're here."

"We don't have to go that far," Sam said.

"You must be Dean," Emma's mother said. "I'm Tish Fletcher." She extended her hand, which Dean quickly leaned forward to shake.

He offered her his winningest smile "Now I see where Emma gets her good looks."

"You don't need to lay it on so thick," she said with a chuckle, but all levity vanished when she really looked at Cas. "Hello, Castiel."

"Hello Tish," he said, and Dean could tell how it hurt him to see her backing away. He gently scratched at the angel's hair and purposely hit all of his most sensitive spots. His other hand, still at his partner's shoulder began purposely hitting right at the juncture of his back and his wings. Cas was practically purring before he jerked away with a huff. "Don't do that. You're making me be impolite."

Dean started to scratch again and Cas flew up from the chair and wheeled around at Dean with a huff somewhere between amusement and irritation. It was so human, and just the reaction the hunter had been hoping for. As expected, it made Tish laugh, and hopefully would ease the tension for their Thanksgiving dinner.

Almost instantly, Dean realized the moment when Emma came in with her new dog. He could smell it, as well as hear its nails clicking on the wood floor. She called him Chewie; she'd told him that to make him feel more comfortable about letting him stay. Dean appreciated the gesture from a fellow Star Wars fan, but he still wasn't thrilled about having a dog in the house, not with him and especially not with his son.

Still, Emma wasn't to blame. It was his own fault for hitting it.

He'd tried to stop when the flash of white and brown and gray started to dart across the road, and he had avoided actually running over the animal, but there was no denying that some damage had been done when the poor dog bounced off of the front bumper. Both he and Sam got out of the car and ran to the dog, the headlights the only light on the near-deserted road this time in the morning. He spared a glance at baby to check the damage to her, and was relieved there was only a small dent he thought he could pop out.

The damage to the dog, though, was obviously much worse. Baby wasn't a small car and he'd been driving at a clip before he'd slammed on the brakes.

"Call Cas," Sam said, gently rubbing at the poor animal's head.

"I can try," Dean said, but he didn't count on the angel being able to come down immediately. Now that he knew he was part of the new Heaven council, Cas had to go to official meetings, and this had been an important one. He ran back to the car, muttering a prayer to Cas in the hopes the angel could come, but even as he was pulling the old blanket out of the trunk, he knew the prayer either hadn't gotten through or the angel couldn't come. This was the second of these kinds of meetings Cas had been to, and that time, as well as this one, Cas had promised that their connection remained strong, and if either Dean or Johnny was in danger, he would know and leave, but otherwise he would be indisposed.

He returned with the blanket and helped his brother wrap it around the dog and gently place it into Sam's arms. "We need to get him to a vet."

Dean considered suggesting that they wait, rather than spending the money on a vet, but he couldn't bring himself to let the animal suffer. The vet might give him drugs that would get him through until Cas could heal him up right. "Put him in the back seat. There was a place in the town ten miles back."

Sam got in the seat with the dog and gently scratched at his head and talked to him reassuringly. It almost made Dean feel bad, watching how good he was with the animal, for putting his "no dogs" rule in place. Almost.

They were still smelly, still unpredictable, still trauma-inducing for him. He didn't care that hellhounds didn't really look like a normal dog, they were close enough to make Dean's heartbeat speed up to unhealthy rates. Didn't mean he'd be an asshole to this one, though, so he drove quickly to the east into the now-rising sun.

It looked like the vet's office was open, but only just, as he pulled the car into the lot and Sam barreled out with the injured animal cradled in his massive arms. Even Dean could admit the dog was really well behaved, not fighting, just whimpering in pain, as they reached the door to the office and opened it. A few people were already in the waiting area with their pets, and almost immediately, Dean's allergy caught wind of the cats and had his nose itching. Sneezing was bound to follow soon.

"Please help," Sam said. "We hit a dog with our car."

The staff immediately went into action to take care of the animal, and Sam took over explaining what had happened, that Dean had tried to stop, and they had rushed him here as soon as they could. Dean was glad because about halfway through the explanation, the sneezing had started. Thankfully, the staff realized this was an emergency, and a tall, dark-haired woman, a vet from the look of it, took over the animal's care, but not without a hefty side order of glaring at Dean and Sam.

"You stick with the dog," Dean said. "I'll handle the paperwork." Mostly, he just wanted to stay away from the woman giving them the evil eye.

He pulled out his cell phone as he filled out forms for payment and forms about the dog's medical history, all of which got marked unknown. It wasn't long before Sam came out and joined him. "They're doing surgery now," he said. His shirt was spotted with the dog's blood. "She was... I don't know if it was intentional or not, but everything that doctor said seemed to be to make me feel guiltier than I already do."

"Why should you feel guilty?" Dean asked. "I hit him." Sam shrugged, but it was pretty obvious that the mix of seeing an innocent animal, a kind he liked, hurt the way it was and this doctor's guilt trip. It made Dean really not like her. He sent up another prayer to Cas asking him to come down as soon as he could and then called Bobby to let him know they weren't going to be home until later tomorrow, so would he be okay with Johnny for a while longer. Bobby, naturally, said he would. Dean suspected he liked the extra time with his grandson.

"She said the dog was a known stray. I think she's trying to get me to take it."

Dean rapped him in the nose with a nearby brochure for flea medicine. "No. Bad Sammy. No dogs." It got him a glare, but it made him get out of his funk.

"I told her you don't like them and I'm living with you at the moment, so you don't have to worry about me being guilted into bringing him home."

Dean began to doze as they waited for word on the dog, so he wasn't sure how long had passed before the door to the office opened and a familiar tan trenchcoat moved through the doorway. It had been days since he'd seen the angel, and if anyone in that office had issues with it when he went to give him a hug, they could all blow him. He felt Cas sink into his arms and against his shoulder and heard him take a deep breath at Dean's collar. He almost admitted he missed his partner, but one of the best things about being with Cas was that he didn't need to say that kind of stuff out loud.

"You hit a dog?" Cas asked.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Can I talk to you outside?"

Cas nodded and they both walked out the door, Sam looking at them curiously, but staying in the waiting room. "As soon as the room with the dog is clear, can you heal him?"

"Of course, Dean." The hunter kissed Cas lightly, and asked him how the meeting went, how Johnny had been before he left, how he was... Dean had been domesticated, but most surprising of all was that he kind of liked it.

Dean came back in at about the same time that the doctor was coming out. He tapped his brother on the arm. "Call Emma. See if she wants the dog." Sam nodded numbly, and it was obvious he wanted to hear how the animal was doing. "Cas is here. He'll be fine."

"Right," Sam said, before standing and going to the front of the building to call his girlfriend.

"He sustained some serious internal bleeding. There's at least two leg fractures that I can see right now, but with TLC, he should pull through for you."

"Didn't you do x-rays?" he managed to ask before he began sneezing again.

"Of his body, as soon as you brought him in. Of his legs? We just did, but our first concern was to take care of the internal damage. Broken bones could wait so that he didn't bleed out before I started surgery."

"Sorry," Dean said, realizing he may have jumped the gun in his criticism of the doctor. "Thanks for this, Doctor."

"You're going to take the dog?" she asked. Dean had been waiting on that question, but again had to wait before he sneezed. Cas had apparently cleared up the irritation his allergies had caused while they were waiting, but they were building back up all over again.

"I think my brother explained that it isn't ours."

"He's not anybody's."

"Then take him to a shelter," Dean said. "I won't have a dog in my house."

"Don't you think you're responsible?"

He had a nice, witty retort, but he was interrupted by another sneeze. "That's why we brought him here."

She turned to the woman at the main desk, "Roberta, could you hand this man his trophy on the way out?"

"It's probably somewhere near yours for your biting wit," Dean said. "Tell me, Doctor... Richardson. Have you ever been mauled by a dog? Had your chest ripped to ribbons and bite marks that covered almost your entire body? Known the only thing that kept the dog from going for your jugular was luck and your own arms? Because I have. I also have a fifteen-month-old son, and even if I was ready to deal with having one of those animals in my house, I am not having one around my kid. So, before you go trying to pawning off an animal on people you don't know, why don't you think for a fucking minute about the people and the animal you seem so interested in protecting."

At that moment, Sam came back in with a broad smile on his face. "Emma will take him."

And here Chewie was now. Dean did feel bad for the doctor, because apparently the shelter—which wasn't no-kill—was full, and any new dog would almost certainly lead to the euthanization of a different dog that had been there too long. Still, Dean didn't appreciate her tactics to try and get them to keep the animal.

"Are you sure you're okay having him here?" Emma asked.

"He's fine," Dean said, though he welcomed the sudden distraction of Bobby's truck coming up the driveway early. Once it came to a stop, Dean glanced out of the kitchen window. He saw Bobby, but no Jody, and Bobby was flagging him to come outside and help him with something in the passenger seat. That was... weird.

"Sam, why don't you show Tish around. I'm going to go see what's up with Bobby."

#

Charlie sat in the seat beside her boss. Normally, he was a pretty easy-going man, and he respected her skills, not to mention her ability to keep his secret. She appreciated being appreciated, but this didn't seem like her usual boss. Today, though, he looked scared, and given what she knew about him and what she'd learned over the last few months about the Winchesters, she couldn't really blame him. But it wasn't really helping her nerves.

She watched as he pulled out his phone. "Do you have Dean Winchester's number?"

"Do you think it's a good idea to call him? From what I could find, Sam is much more understanding when it comes to non-humans."

"Dean's the one with a child in the house and an angel at his beck and call. He's the one I have to deal with right now."

#

Castiel stood alongside Dean, picking up that the hunter was unsettled about something relating to Bobby's return. "Bobby shouldn't be here for a few hours at least," the hunter said as they both headed out of the door and toward the truck parked outside.

"You think something is wrong," Cas said. It wasn't a question, so he did not expect, nor did he receive, an answer.

He suspected it was because Bobby had known Dean for as long as he had because as soon as they were close enough for the older hunter to see their faces, he chuckled. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, boys. Some stupid punk tried to break into the hardware store downtown. Jody had to go check it out, and she told me to bring the food here so it can finish cooking."

"You don't seem worried," Castiel noted as he took a pot of what was probably the green beans from the seat of the truck.

"Jody said it happens every year. Someone tries to break into one of the stores when they've ramped up for their Black Friday sales," the older hunter said. "And I can't worry every time she goes to do her job. Not only would she think it was an insult to her abilities if I did, but it's her job, so I'm used to it."

Dean smirked. "Scared of your better half?"

"I wouldn't say that I'm scared. Just cautious. But I might be scared if we don't get this stuff in and cooking."

"Speaking of cooking," said a familiar female voice that came suddenly from Dean's side, "I'm afraid I will need a bit of assistance with this." Azrael held up a bag with what looked like a second turkey, and balanced in her other hand a box that looked loaded with peanut oil, a pot and some kind of device to lift the pot off the ground.

"You know I'm cooking a turkey, right?" Dean asked, and he sounded quite perturbed.

"I am aware, but you will have quite a few guests, and this will be a deep-fried turkey."

"Of course it will be," Dean said with a roll of his eyes. "Do you know how to set it up without torching the place?"

Azrael smirked at him, offering all of the amusement that she usually did when Dean offered her his usual sarcastic remarks. She seemed to appreciate his lack of fear, but Castiel had not yet been able to overcome his own when it came to the angel of death. "If I wanted to burn your house down, I would have done it by now."

"Sam has everything set up to roast some corn in a while. You can get everything going next to him. Just don't take any cooking tips from him."

Castiel could hear the sound of another car approaching the house, and it didn't sound like Jody's car or her sheriff's vehicle. He saw Azrael looking into the distance with an almost bemused look on her face. "This should be interesting," she muttered as a black car with tinted windows began to approach the house. Looking at the car and the confused expressions on both of the hunters' faces, Castiel wasn't sure he wanted to know what would make the other angel look so amused.

Then, Dean's phone began to ring.