Be Good For Goodness Sake

by Shelby Bean

Someone is targeting Santa Claus. Or at least the guys who get paid to dress like him at shopping malls. Dean & Cas must go undercover to find out who or what is behind the disappearances. Sam thinks it might be an old monster of holiday lore out for revenge. Then again, he's not the one who has to wear a ridiculous costume and put up with spoiled brats all day. (all fluff no smut)

"Laugh at me and I'll kick your ass." Dean's grumpy voice came through the bathroom door.

Sam and Cas looked at one another, then shrugged. "Alright," Sam answered for the both of them. "Nobody's gonna laugh, just come out already."

They heard the click of the lock, and the bathroom door swung back. Dean stepped out into the motel room, chin stuck out, chest puffed up in defiance. He was dressed head to toe as a Christmas elf. His tunic was red on the right side and green on the left, with a star shaped collar. Underneath he wore green tights and red suede boots. On his head was a green felt hat which curled over with a silver bell at the very tip.

To keep his promise not to laugh, Sam had to bite his tongue until it actually hurt.

Cas just narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't look anything like what the Inuit wear." The brothers turned to frown at him, but Cas looked impatient. "The people who reside northernmost on the planet." At their blank expressions, he sighed. "I was under the impression that Dean would be portraying a resident of the north pole."

Dean shook his head in frustration, making the little bell on his hat jingle. "Forget it man. Why the hell aren't you dressed? We're gonna be late."

"I had planned on changing once we arrived." He indicated the large canvas bag next to him. "They do have an employee locker room for such purposes."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Dean half-shouted. He turned on Sam. "Did you know about this?"

Sam held up his hands in mock-surrender; he was staying out of this one.

With another glance at the wall clock, Dean made an angry noise in his throat. "Whatever. Let's go." He grabbed his car keys and stomped out the door.

Once Dean was out of earshot, Sam started to laugh. "Dude, nice one. High five." Cas gave a pleased half-smile. He looked at Sam's raised hand, nodded, and gave it a slap. He made sure to put his serious face back on before joining Dean outside.

As the roar of the Impala's engine faded, Sam turned his attention back to his laptop. They had been in town over a week and were no closer to solving the case. Someone was targeting Santa Claus. Over the past month, eight shopping mall Santas in the area had gone missing. Once they started digging, Sam found disappearances that went back almost a decade. Three of the missing Santas had worked at Chicago's Navy Pier before they went AWOL, so that's where the boys decided to set up shop.

After striking out with most of the witnesses, Sam got the brilliant idea to go undercover. The hiring manager sadly couldn't use him, she didn't have any "uniforms" big enough, but she was more than happy to put Dean and Cas to work. After all, she was short-staffed due to the recent disappearances.

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For probably the first time in his life, Dean was grateful he didn't have any friends. That way, no one could recognize him in this ridiculous getup. He squirmed. The tights were up his crack again. After a quick glance around, he reached back and gave a tug. It was only marginally better.

Someone cleared their throat, and Dean spun around. "Elves are always cheery and helpful," his supervisor chirped in a high, nasally voice. "Now get your ass out there and suck up to the parents. Those portrait packages don't sell themselves."

Dean took his time strolling over to the busier part of the improvised North Pole. Annoyingly perky holiday tunes played nonstop over the speakers. Fake snow stuck to his shoes, and he was constantly fighting the urge to rip the little bell off his hat. Then, off to one side, he spotted a tiny little girl with tears welling up her eyes. Putting aside his frustrations, he hurried over. "Hi there, sweetheart," he said softly, crouching down beside her. "What's the matter?"

She ducked her head and sniffled. Dean glanced up at the girl's mother, who looked rather hopeless.

Dean followed the little girl's gaze to see what was upsetting her. Then he chuckled, and scooted over, blocking her view. "Hey," he soothed, "the big guy got you worried?" She looked up, her bottom lip sticking out. He gave a sympathetic nod. "He is pretty weird looking. I was scared of him too, at first. But you wanna know a secret?" Her big brown eyes widened. Dean leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "He's more afraid of you, than you are of him." She gave him a skeptical look, and he grinned. "It's true. Here's the thing: if he doesn't find out what you want for Christmas, he'll just have to guess, and if he brings you the wrong toy, then you might leave him nasty cookies instead of the good ones. You get me?" The little girl cracked a smile.

He glanced up at her mother, who was watching the whole exchange in awe. A few other parents had filed over to see what was going on.

Dean kept talking. "And he has to eat the cookies you leave out, even if they're something awful, like raisin. Them's the rules." The girl let out a giggle. "So would you cut him a break and just tell him what you really want? It'd make this whole setup a lot easier."

The girl had tensed up again, peering over Dean's shoulder.

He held out his hand. "I'll go over there with you, if you want."

After a moment's consideration, she flung herself at him. Dean let out a surprised grunt, then laughed as tiny arms wrapped around his neck and bony legs tightened around his ribcage. After glancing at her mother for a nod of approval, he carried her over to stand in line for Santa.

When the kid in front of them ran up for his turn, the little girl's chin began to quiver. Dean gave her a serious look. "Remember, no nasty cookies. You hold all the cards." Once it was their turn, Dean carried her up the steps to Santa's throne. "Here you go, buddy." He placed her gently into Santa's white-gloved hands.

Cas peered up at him from under the fur-trimmed hat, solemn as ever. He balanced the girl on his knee. "Who are you?"

"Tell him your name, sweetheart," Dean coached.

She murmured something, and Cas had to lean in closer, squinting. "Have you been good?" The girl nodded urgently, her eyes wide as saucers. "What do you want for Christmas?"

She took a big breath, gathering her courage. "I want Frozen dolls, a ballerina dress and ballerina slippers, Hello Kitty roller skates, a snow suit with flowers on it, a drum set, a Princess Sophia makeup table, pajamas, some My Little Ponies, and… crayons."

Cas blinked, taking it all in. "That's very specific." He cocked his head to the side. "Although, if I leave you frozen dolls, they would most likely thaw before you woke to unwrap your presents, so I would advise against that."

For a second, she stared blankly. Then she burst into giggles. "You're silly. I meant Anna and Elsa from the movie." As she spoke, she patted his fluffy fake beard with one hand.

Dean thought he saw Cas's eyes crinkle up in a smile. "Oh, that does make more sense. Thank you for clearing it up for me."

She giggled again. "I promise I won't leave gross cookies for you."

"That is very considerate, thank you," Cas replied earnestly. Dean chuckled, and stepped forward to retrieve the girl. Cas didn't budge. He was studying her, his gaze even more intense than normal. Dean watched as Cas brought his other hand up and place it over her tiny chest. Most people wouldn't notice the faint glow, but Dean was near enough to see, and something in his own chest warmed as he looked on. Cas smiled at the girl as he let his hand drop. "Merry Christmas." She reached eagerly for Dean, and he scooped her up, carrying her back to her waiting mother.

The woman was in tears as Dean returned. He set the girl down and she began to play with some of the fake snow. He frowned at her mother. "What is it?"

"Thank you. You have no idea. Thank you." She rubbed the sleeve of her sweater across her wet cheeks as Dean waited for an explanation. "The doctors say this could be her last Christmas. I wanted to bring her to meet Santa, but she always got scared at the last minute. Thank you."

Dean remembered the warm light under Cas's hand. He straightened his shoulders and looked the woman in the eye. "Doctors can be wrong, you know. I bet any day now she'll be right as rain." With that, he excused himself. Avoiding his supervisor's accusing glare, he hurried to the employee locker room. Once alone, he yanked off his hat, sat down on a bench, and rested his face in his hands. First day on the job and he was getting emotional about the little rugrats. This was going to be harder than he'd thought.

"Rough gig, ain't it?" a voice teased from behind him.

He was sure the locker room had been empty. "Yeah," Dean sighed, trying not to let on that he'd been startled. He turned to see who was there.

A lanky young black man was leaning against the wall. He wore an elf costume identical to Dean's. "First day?" He laughed at Dean's weary nod. "I would tell you it gets easier, but then I'd be lying."

"You been here long?"

The guy made a pained expression. "Since they opened, mid-October."

Dean nodded sympathetically. "And you live to tell the tale." He looked the kid over. "I'm Scott," he lied, holding out his hand.

"Noah. Good to meet you." They shook hands.

Dean looked him over. This guy couldn't be older than twenty, with his big brown eyes and baby face. Dean decided to test his luck, try and get the kid talking. "So, you worked with those other Santas; the ones who went missing."

"You heard about that, huh?" Noah's eyes widened. "Pretty weird stuff."

"Yeah, weird. Any ideas what happened to 'em? Gambling debts finally catch up, or did they piss off some helicopter mom?" He raised his eyebrows, grinning.

"Nah, I don't know, man. Those guys were all-" Noah cut himself off, frowning.

"All what?" Dean prompted, "asshats?"

Noah chuckled. "You could say that. Like the latest guy," Noah made a face, "he got pretty inappropriate with some of the girls who work here. Until he disappeared, they were gonna file sexual harassment charges."

Maybe this wasn't their kind of gig after all. Dean frowned as he weighed the possibilities. Noah was staring at him, waiting for a response. "Wow," he finally answered. "That's… gross. Sounds like bad Santa got what was coming to him."

Noah shrugged, turning away to get something from a locker. "Maybe. Have you met this new one?" He didn't wait for Dean's reply. "Seems like a decent guy. That would be nice, for a change." He turned back with a thoughtful gaze.

"Yeah, well." Dean was having trouble keeping his face under control. "He's kinda- I dunno… awkward?"

Noah looked amused. "You're one to talk."

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Sam was ready with theories as soon as Dean and Cas stepped in the door. "Guys, check it. I think we're dealing with another creature from holiday lore."

Dean pulled out the chair next to Sam. "You mean like that annoying old couple who tried to eat us?"

"Not exactly," Sam replied. "There are countless legends surrounding all the different winter holidays, and a lot of them involve eating people. Mostly bad kids."

Dean wrinkled up his nose. "So instead of getting a stocking full of coal, you get eaten by monsters?"

Cas sat down on the edge of the nearest bed. "It's very common. Most cultures have folk stories to frighten children into behaving well. Only recently did the emphasis shift from avoiding a slow and horrible death, to being rewarded with expensive mass-produced toys. Personally I believe it's less effective; even more so after what I experienced today." He shook his head wearily.

"Long day, Cas?" Sam couldn't help but crack a smile.

Dean looked fondly at the tired angel. "You did good work today, buddy." He noticed Sam's curious frown. "Cas here did way more than his job description. Healed a very sick little girl."

Castiel's expression softened. "She had a heart condition," he explained with a little shrug.

"I talked to her mom," Dean added, "she wouldn't have made it another year."

"Actually, she would not have lived three more months had I not intervened." He made it sound so simple, like he only did what anyone would have.

Dean wasn't sure how to respond. How could he explain how far off base Cas was about himself? How could anyone explain Cas to Cas?

After a minute, Sam cleared his throat. "So, uh- our creature suspects." He scrolled down the page on his laptop. "The Dutch have 'Belsnickel' who whips bad children. There are thirteen Norwegian Yule Lads, who go into people's homes and cause trouble. Knech Ruprecht will beat you with a bag of ashes if you refuse his gifts. We've got a ton of anti-Santas, like the Krampus. Zwarte Piet will kidnap those who misbehave. The Ogre woman Gryla cooks and eats bad children. So does Père Fouettard in France, and Hans Trapp disguises himself as a scarecrow to capture kids and eat them. In Germany, a witch named Frau Perchta will rip out your intestines and replace them with garbage."

"This is heartwarming, Sam, please go on," Dean said flatly.

Sam ignored him. "Iceland even has an evil Yule Cat. If you didn't work hard enough during the year, they would sacrifice you to this cat. Villagers wear new clothes to bed on Christmas Eve to protect themselves." He looked up, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Basically what you're saying," Dean replied, "is that it could be any of these dozens of scary bedtime stories from anywhere in the world?"

"Well-" Sam's enthusiasm quickly waned as he looked into their unimpressed faces. "Yeah. Whatever. Did you get any leads today?" Now he looked as grumpy as the other two.

"Actually I did," Dean boasted. "Talked to a kid who worked with the missing Santas. Turns out, all those guys were real tools. Had it coming."

"Hmm." Sam blinked thoughtfully. "Fits the profile. Someone, or something, could be punishing these Santas for bad behavior."

"Why only the ones playing Santa?" Cas interjected. "There was plenty of deplorable behavior going around."

Sam cracked a smile. "From the kids, or the adults?"

"Both." Cas rolled his eyes. "One might think that I held sway over the mythical Saint Nick himself, judging by how the parents behaved."

Sam turned his laptop for a better view. "I'll double check, but I don't remember seeing any recent unexplained disappearances of children or parents . Pretty sure it's just the fake Santas."

Dean shifted in his chair. "Is Cas in danger then?"

They all looked at one another nervously.

Sam chewed his bottom lip. "We need to figure out how they're choosing the targets."

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The following day was uneventful at the North Pole. After deciding there was no immediate threat, Cas was getting more comfortable with his role, and Dean was almost getting used to wearing tights. Almost. He would never admit it, but the stretchy material did give him a better range of motion than denim. Plus, he was aware of all the mothers checking out his rear view, and he didn't exactly hate the attention.

"You gonna ask for her number?" one of his coworkers teased.

He put on his innocent face, pretending he hadn't just been caught winking at the mom who was now leaving. "What? Just doin' my job."

"Flirting is part of the job now?" The young woman was dressed exactly the same as Dean, from her ugly hat right down to her suede boots. She was fair-skinned, with straight black hair that reached the tops of her shoulders. Her hazel eyes crinkled up as she grinned at him teasingly.

"It helps sell the portrait package," he defended himself. "Gotta make the customer feel appreciated."

She laughed. "That is not the package most of these cougars are after." She let her eyes trail down.

Dean felt his ears get hot, and he tugged at his elf tunic.

Enjoying his discomfort, she bent forward to read his name badge. "Scott. Welcome to the North Pole. I'm Raya." She pointed to her own badge as proof.

He was grateful for the change of subject. "Thanks. You work here long?"

Raya made an exasperated face. "Almost two friggin' months. It sucks."

"Yeah? I hear Santa's got a high turnover rate."

"That's an understatement," she sighed. "But trust me, nobody's gonna cry over those douchebags."

Dean played ignorant. "Really? What did they do?"

"Hmm, let me think." She gave a humorless laugh. "The first guy back in November, he was creeping on people in the locker room. We think he might have been stealing underwear. The one after him was taking copies of the kids portraits. God only knows what he wanted those for." She shuddered in revulsion. "The last guy was a perv too. He was constantly making dirty comments to all the female elves, even the high school girls!"

"And you worked with all of these… creeps?"

Raya curled up her lip in disgust. "Yeah, lucky me. Seriously though, what is it with hired Santas? I mean, is being a scumbag part of the job description?"

Dean didn't have to fake his concerned expression. This girl couldn't be more transparent. If she got any bad ideas about Cas… "What about the new guy?" he led.

She turned and peered at Cas, who was busy having a very intense conversation with a chubby little blond-haired boy. She gave a noncommittal shrug. "He seems alright, but we'll see. The weekend is coming up. Stress always brings out a person's true colors."

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"You're not going back," Dean insisted on the drive home. He hadn't let Cas out of his sight after that ominous conversation with Raya.

Cas turned to him, frowning. "Why not?"

Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "It's not safe. We only took these stupid jobs to find our monster, and I'm pretty sure who she is. There's a good chance she'll go after you next."

"But… who would fill in for Santa if I'm not there? The day after tomorrow is supposed to be the biggest turnout of the year. All those kids-"

"They'll get over it," Dean interrupted. "I'm not using you as bait."

Cas continued to stare at him unhappily. "I can handle myself, Dean. Besides, it's unprofessional to quit without a two-week notice." He set his jaw defiantly. "I am going to work tomorrow."

Dean gave a frustrated groan. "Stubborn son of a bitch," he muttered.

When they got back to the motel, Dean dropped his bag angrily against the wall before locking himself in the bathroom. Sam made a face, turning to Cas. "Bad day?"

"Dean wants me to quit. He thinks it would be better to take out the killer on his own."

"He can't be serious." Sam glared at the bathroom door. "Where did he get such a stupid idea?"

"I believe he's bothered by the thought of putting me in harm's way."

Sam gave Cas a long look. "We all knew that was a possibility." His forehead wrinkled up as he continued to stare. "Did I miss something? Is there reason to worry?"

"I already told Dean I can handle myself. Besides, the children will be disappointed if there is no one to play Santa."

Sam fought back a smile. Just then, Dean ventured out of the bathroom, and Sam turned to confront him. "What's going on, man? Did you find something new today?"

"Uh, kind of." He ran a hand through his hair. "I think I've found our killer, just need to figure out what she is."

"She?"

"Yeah, this girl was trash-talking the former Santas. Wasn't exactly subtle about how much she hated them." Dean glanced at Cas again. "She's got her eye on you next."

Cas just stuck out his chin, not breaking eye contact with Dean.

Dean knew there was no point in arguing. "Whatever man. It'll be your funeral." As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. He shook his head, and pushed between Sam and Cas, heading toward the heap of books spread across the little table. "Come on, we gonna work, or just sit on our thumbs?"

Sam shot a concerned look at Cas as he pulled out a chair. "Let's figure out how to stop her."

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Friday morning, Cas and Dean headed to the mall with their duffle bags full of weird supplies. They had stakes whittled from four different kinds of evergreen trees, a jar of crushed mistletoe berries, and even a few shotgun shells packed with ground-up poinsettia and holly leaves. None of those things were promised to take down their monster, but it was more than they'd had yesterday.

In the locker room, Cas quickly changed into his Santa gear, but Dean lagged behind. He wanted to keep an eye on Raya. As the other elves came and went, Dean nodded in greeting and tried to make himself look busy.

"Last weekend before the big day," Noah said encouragingly as he jammed his coat into a locker. "You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Dean answered honestly. He looked up from the phone in his hands and eyeballed the kid. "How are you still so… perky?"

Noah shrugged. "I dunno. Things are looking up, I guess." He swung a leg over the bench and sat down facing Dean. "Your friend seems to be doing really well, especially working double shifts like he has. By this point most people would've had at least one nervous breakdown."

Dean tried to hide his surprise that Noah had connected him and Cas. After a beat, he nodded. "He's not most people."

"Obviously," Noah agreed. He didn't budge.

Did this kid know something? Dean narrowed his eyes, but Noah just gazed calmly back. He had to say something. "What exactly are-" he started to ask.

"Sorry," Noah cut him off. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just kind of exciting for me; I don't get to meet a lot of people like you two."

"Like-" Dean blinked in confusion.

Noah gestured with his hand. "I mean, you and him… it's sweet. Kinda gives me hope."

There was a clatter as Dean's phone slipped from his hands and bounced across the floor. He began to stammer. "We're- we... " His first instinct was to deny it, but something in the back of his mind took the words before they reached his mouth. He was supposed to be undercover, after all. If that's what people were assuming, maybe it was better to just play along.

The boy was already backpedaling. "Nevermind, I'm sorry. Just forget it." He stood up to leave.

Now Dean felt bad. "Hang on." He took a deep breath and forced down his pride. "It's fine, dude. No problem."

Big brown eyes looked at him, nervously hopeful. "I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that," Noah apologized. "You two seem to just… get each other. I hope I can find somebody like that."

"Well. You know. They say there's somebody out there for everybody." He made himself smile as he patted Noah's shoulder.

Just then, the supervisor cleared his throat from the doorway. "Hey! Quit yapping and get your jingle bells out here."

"Be right there," Dean said, suddenly lowering his voice. As he followed Noah out, he remembered why he had been dawdling in the first place, and turned to his boss. "Hey, have you seen Raya?"

"She called off sick. Now move it."

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On Saturday evening, Sam didn't even hear them get back. There was no slamming door, so stomping feet to announce their return, so when he stepped out of the bathroom he was startled to see them both sitting on the bed, side-by-side, looking defeated. "That bad, huh?" he asked gently.

Dean didn't even look up. Cas glanced sideways at him before answering. "It was, indeed, very bad."

They seemed so miserable, Sam couldn't even tease. He turned one of the dining chairs around and sat down to face them both. "Anything I can do?" Once again, Cas looked to Dean.

Dean avoided Sam's gaze. "A drink would be good."

Glad to be able to do something, Sam got them each a beer from the mini fridge. When Dean had already downed half a bottle, Sam was beginning to think he'd never get to hear what happened. He almost missed when Dean finally did say something. "What's that?"

"I said, the girl is not our monster."

"Okay…" Sam nodded, his eyes wide. Curiosity was eating him up. Dean chugged the rest of his beer, then walked into the bathroom, shut the door firmly, and turned on the shower. Impatient now, Sam turned to Cas. "What the hell happened today?"

Castiel turned to him, his expression blank. "Dean got fired today."

"He got-" Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Dean got fired?" He stood up, paced a few steps, and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he laughed. "Wow." He sat down in the spot Dean had vacated. Cas was squinting at him with his head tilted, like a confused puppy. "How did Dean get fired?"

"He had an altercation with the young woman we suspected to be the killer. She is human, by the way."

Sam furrowed his brow. "What kind of altercation?"

"Dean only took this course of action because he believed her to be a threat." Cas was wide-eyed and serious, making sure Sam understood.

"Of course." He was trying to keep a straight face. "What happened?"

Cas raised his chin. "During my lunch break, she approached me in the locker room. Dean thought I was in danger, so he brought out the arsenal we had prepared several nights ago."

"The leaves and stuff?"

Cas nodded solemnly.

"And?"

"She did not take kindly to having mistletoe jelly thrown in her face."

"Mmm-hmm." Sam was struggling not to crack a smile. "That would do it."

"Well," Cas added thoughtfully, "that, and what he said to her."

Sam couldn't open his mouth to ask while maintaining his composure, so he made a quizzical face, instead.

"He called her-" he looked off thoughtfully into the distance, "a nasty old baby-eating hag, I believe?"

Dean's muffled voice echoed from the bathroom. "Baby-guzzling hag," he corrected. Sam and Cas both froze.

"I'm gonna go get dinner," Sam announced, hurrying to the door. "Sorry you got sacked, bro," he shouted toward the bathroom.

"Bite me," Dean hollered back.

Cas sat on the bed for a long moment, trying to decide the best course of action. He would have to go back alone tomorrow, whether Dean approved or not. It was discouraging. Besides not having two sets of eyes, they were now back at square one, with no leads who the killer might be. With a sigh, he pushed to his feet, heading toward the small motel bathroom. He would only have to convince the most stubborn human he'd ever known.

The air was full of steam from the hot water. Cas stared at his blurry reflection in the mirror. "Dean," he began.

"Fuck!" came Dean's startled, sputtered reply. He hadn't heard the bathroom door open. "Dammit, Cas! You trying to give me a heart attack?" He braced his hand against the tiled wall, trying to catch his breath.

"No, I do not want that." He gave Dean a few seconds to recover. "I just came to tell you, please don't be too hard on yourself. This is a setback, but we will figure something out."

Dean rubbed a hand over his wet face. He felt too vulnerable with only a plastic curtain between them. "What makes you say that?"

"You make a habit of blaming yourself for anything that goes wrong. While technically, this one was entirely you, I don't think you overreacted, per se."

He huffed out an indignant sigh. "Gee, thanks."

Castiel turned and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. "Dean, you tend to punish yourself for small mistakes far more than is reasonable or necessary. I will not allow you to do so over this incident."

Dean closed his eyes. "But I really fucked things up."

"Perhaps. But can you accept that getting fired is punishment enough?"

He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. Cas wasn't exactly wrong. He shook his head. "Why did she come after you, anyway?"

"She came to ask if I had plans after work."

Dean's head shot up. "What? She- excuse me?" He peered around the shower curtain, glaring at Cas. "I get fired, and she wants you to- what, stuff her stocking?"

"I don't believe so," Cas narrowed his eyes. "She mentioned a double date, I did not get a chance to ask her about the specifics."

Some of the anger went out of him. He let the shower curtain fall back into place so he didn't have to see that sincere, innocent look Cas was giving him. "Awesome. Double date. So I fucked that up too, then." He leaned his head back into the stream of water.

He jumped a foot when Cas pulled the curtain aside, frowning in at him. "Stop it, Dean. I will not stand idly by and allow you to constantly berate yourself like this."

"Jesus, Cas! Privacy?" He desperately covered himself with his hands.

With a final glare, Cas let go of the shower curtain and sat back down on the toilet lid. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. I held your naked soul in the pit of hell, your physical body does not surprise me."

Even in the hot water, Dean felt himself blushing. The angel's words had struck right to his core. He glanced down. Those words were affecting other parts of him, as well. He swallowed hard. "Cas, buddy, you can't just…"

"Food's here," came Sam's voice from the other room. "Guys?"

Before Dean could react, Cas called out "in here, Sam." From inside the shower stall, Dean could hear Sam's footsteps come to an abrupt halt.

Dean braced himself, then peeked around the shower curtain to see his brother staring, mouth hanging open, a bag of fast food in each hand. "Hey, whatcha get?" Dean asked, pretending that nothing was out of the ordinary.

Sam closed his gaping mouth, his eyes still wide. "Burgers and onion rings. Unless, ah- I could take off for a while, if- if you guys want some time alone?"

"That won't be necessary, Sam," answered Cas, walking past him out of the tiny bathroom. "I have done as much to comfort Dean as he will accept from me at this point."

Dean shut off the water, pulling a fresh towel off the rack and wrapping it around his waist. When he opened the curtain, Sam was still frozen in place, and his expression was so bewildered, Dean almost wanted to let his assumptions stand uncorrected. Almost. "Cas was trying to convince me to not be too hard on myself for getting banned from the mall," he explained.

"You got banned from-" Sam was cut off as Dean shut the bathroom door in his face.

Cas spoke up. "Dean already feels poorly enough for being wrong about our suspect."

Sam hesitated. "I know he does."

They studied one another for a long moment, both considering the same thought: maybe Dean would listen if he had two people who cared about him both saying the same thing. With an unspoken signal, they were in agreement. Sam walked over to the small dining table and began to spread out the food. Cas pulled three beers from the fridge and popped the lids off. When Dean joined them, damp-haired but fully dressed, they were ready.

Sam dove in first. "You know Dean, Cas is right. This isn't the toughest case we've ever had to crack, not by a long shot. We'll figure something out."

"How is Cas supposed to finish this by himself? Can you tell me that? Tomorrow's the busiest day of the season. How the hell is he supposed to figure out who our killer is, much less look out for himself, when he's got rugrats lined up asking him for shit all day long? You can't get hired there, cause you're too damn big for the tights. I completely screwed us over."

"Enough." Cas startled them both with the anger in his voice. "Not everything is your fault, Dean." His tone softened a little. "If you're truly that worried, then I won't go back tomorrow."

Several expressions flitted across Dean's face; surprise, relief, and something like pride, then unease. "Cas, no. I can't make you do that. The kids-"

"It's true, you cannot make me do anything. I am offering."

Sam almost kept his mouth shut. He still felt like he was intruding on an intimate moment between them, but he forced himself to speak up. "I can tail him at the mall tomorrow, keep an eye on things, if that would help."

Dean nodded, dragging his gaze away from Cas. "Okay. Yeah, that- that might work." He stuffed his mouth full of onion rings, deep in thought.

Cas made a point to catch Sam's eye, and nodded. It was a small victory, but it was a start. Sam couldn't help but smile.

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As much as Dean hated to sit out the rest of the job, he didn't have much of a choice. He was prepared to do penance by research, but Sam had told him not to bother, he'd already exhausted every possible lead. Their best hope was to spot something unusual at the North Pole, which was off-limits for Dean.

He'd already cleaned, disassembled, and reassembled all the guns, and was flipping through the local channels. The knock on the door was a pleasant surprise. It was Noah.

He did a quick once-over to make sure nothing suspicious was lying about, then opened the door. "Hey, kiddo. What are you doing out here?" He shook the boy's hand.

Noah gingerly stepped inside. "Well I didn't get to say goodbye yesterday."

Dean rubbed a hand through his hair, embarrassed. "Yeah, I was kind of an ass. Sorry you came all this way."

Amused, Noah shook his head and chuckled. "Whatever. You're not an ass, you're my friend. I also wanted to bring you this," he added, reaching into his backpack. He pulled out a small white wicker basket covered in curly red ribbons. "It's from one of the parents, she was looking for you."

"You coulda gave it to Cas," he said, a little stiffly.

Noah chewed his lower lip for a second. "Yeah, I guess so, but I wanted to see you again. I really liked working with you." Dean blinked in surprise, but the kid wasn't finished. "I'm headed out of town, and I wanted to say goodbye properly. Sorry I didn't get to meet your brother."

Dean tensed up. "Excuse me?" He was almost certain that he'd never mentioned having a brother.

"You guys did pretty good," Noah grinned. "But your friend, Castiel? He was never in any danger. I only take the bad ones."

Dean stood, fists clenching. It took him a second to realize that the room was empty. He opened the door and glanced around the parking lot, but there was no sign of anyone. Finally, he sat down with the gift basket. There was a book of hot drink mixes, a tin of hot chocolate powder, a small bottle of Kahula, and another of peppermint schnapps. He found the card and opened it. "To our Christmas angel: my baby girl was given a clean bill health, and I can't shake the thought that you had something to do with it. Nothing could ever begin to show my gratitude, but here's a small gesture to say thank you." Tucked inside the card was a photo. Dean felt his chest tighten as he looked at it. The little girl with the heart defect was sitting on Cas's lap, and Dean was crouched beside them. They all had big grins on their faces. If he squinted, he could almost see the glow where Cas had used his grace to heal the girl. He tucked the photo back in the card and put it back in the basket.

They would do one last sweep of the mall that night after it closed, but Dean already knew they wouldn't find anything. He didn't even care.

ꍈ｡*ꍈﾟꍈ

When they finally arrived back at the bunker, Dean pulled into the garage and the brothers wearily dragged their things down the stairs. Cas had left only a few hours before they did, so they looked around for any sign of him. Dean cursed when Sam unexpectedly stopped in his tracks, causing a minor collision. Then he saw what had caused Sam to pull up. "What the hell?"

The war room was covered in festive decorations from top to bottom. Gold and silver garlands were draped over the curved stair railings and wrapped around the support beams that framed the doorway to the library. A large tree with multicolored lights stood in one corner. Thick red candles at the center of the table were accented by sprigs of holly.

Sam turned to his brother, his jaw hanging slack. "Did I miss something?" Dean could only shrug.

"Good, you're back," came Cas's voice from somewhere below. His arms were full of long, leafy vines.

Dean gave Sam a baffled look, then hurried down the steps toward Cas. "Hey, buddy, is everything… uh-" He turned back to Sam, who had followed him down. "Help me out here?"

"Wow, Cas, you've been busy. You wanna tell us what all this is about?" Sam's tone was similar to how you might approach a child whose artwork you did not understand.

"I've been decorating," the angel responded with a soft smile.

"I see that," Sam tried to smile but ended up with a grimace. "Why?"

Cas let out a sigh. "In case you two haven't noticed, the warding in this place hasn't been one hundred percent effective at keeping out unwanted guests. I thought it wise to use the folklore and superstitions we have discovered as of late and put them into practice. Just to be on the safe side."

Dean was nodding slowly, his eyes trailing over the room. "So let me get this straight- you're using every possible good luck charm from every single Christmas-adjacent monster story and throwing it all together?"

"Essentially… yes."

Sam chuckled tiredly. "It can't hurt, right?"

Dean made his way across the room toward the library, his eyes growing wider with each step. "Wow, you've been… really busy." He stopped under the archway, taking in the sight. More garlands were draped over the high windows. Candles flickered from nearly every surface. He felt Cas come up behind him, and turned, his eyes full of amazement. "Dude, this is just awesome." He was not prepared for Cas to wrap a hand around the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss.

Maybe it was the shock, maybe because he was exhausted, but he didn't pull away. He let his eyes shut, and felt the rough brush of Cas's lips against his. He tilted his head ever so slightly, but already Cas was pulling away.

He opened his eyes. Cas was just inches from his face, his blue eyes so earnest that Dean could hardly breathe. Then the angel glanced up, pointing at the ceiling above them. "Mistletoe," he stated, as if that explained everything.

Dean heard Sam let out a choked laugh from the other room. He'd gotten the whole show.

"Mistletoe?" Dean repeated incredulously.

"Yes," Cas insisted. "The ancient Druids believed that it was a sacred gift to their gods during the winter solstice, which translated to-"

Dean grabbed him by the collar of his shirt with both hands. "You're so full of shit," he laughed, and pulled Cas in for another kiss. He made himself go slow, letting his senses take it all in. The stubble on their chins rubbed together, and he tasted peppermint on the angel's lips. He didn't let go until he was sure Cas had been good and properly kissed.

When they parted, Cas cracked a sly smile, glancing up at the mistletoe once again. "It was plastic anyway."