It's stupid and long and goes from past to present tense every 2 sentences and I just went batshit crazy on it I'm sorry.
It was originally a prompt/request from dearest lily. and then this happened. I'm sorry.
All recognizable characters belong to their respectful owners. Hope is an original character. I own her. I created her. She's cute.
Sorry again.
ENJOY LILY!
'I am Castiel Oscar Novak. And I am going to do just fine tonight. I will be fine.'
I had been telling myself that all day. All damn day leading up to this stupid blind date. Screw Anna and her meddling with my love life. I am perfectly happy with my life.
I'm not lonely, I have my fish.
I'm not upset with my career, I love my job.
I, am not, lonely.
But I am ready. Ready to conquer this date. To show Anna that I am perfectly capable of holding a relationship further than 3 dates, which was, according to her, my record.
The Opal Wine Bar, 22 Bradstan Drive.
That's where I need to be. That's where I'm going to be. This is it. I'm going. Going, talking, exchanging numbers, organizing another date and coming home to bed. That's it. Simple. I can do this.
"Hi, I'm Trinity. Welcome to The Opal Wine Bar, do you have a reservation?"
"Yes, Castiel Novak. Table for two."
I smiled down at her when she looked up from her book.
"Right this way, Mr. Novak. Enjoy your evening."
I had booked a nice, private table towards the back. Lot of privacy. And away from all the noise. And private. So I wouldn't have to face many people. Because it's private.
Oh God I'm going to chatter on and on at him and he'll think I'm crazy. Oh, my God! He's gonna tell Anna I'm bonkers. Anna's never going to leave me alone after this. It's going to be horrible.
"Hello. I'm Dean, I'll be your waiter this evening. Is there anything I can get you, Sir?'
I shouldn't have looked up. I should not have looked up. Because there, staring at me with gigantic princess eyes, was Dean, my waiter. Who was not a bad sight for sore eyes.
Jesus, those eyes.
"Hello Dean. Um, nothing right now. Actually, maybe just a water. Yeah, a water, thank you."
Jesus Christ, everyone here is going to think I'm mad. He already thinks I'm mad. I can see it in his eyes.
"Alright," he laughed, "a water. Coming right up."
A few minutes later and Deans back, water in hand, and a smile on his face. I think I just melted.
"Thank you, Dean," I murmured as he placed my drink in front of me.
"You're welcome, Sir."
He was just standing there, expectantly I think, staring at me, with his hands folded loosely in front of him.
"Yes?"
"Got a hot date?"
Now I was chuckling, all nervousness forgotten. "I wouldn't know, honestly."
"Oh!" He exclaimed excitedly, "a blind date then?"
He quickly sat down in the seat across from me and leaned forward, making sure his elbows weren't on the table. Nice manners.
"Yes. A blind date. He's meant to be here in 20 minutes."
Dean was smiling like an idiot.
"Do you know his name? I could have him escorted to your table when he arrives."
"No, I don't know anything about him."
"Oh. You must be pretty brave, to face someone in that kind of situation. I never want to go on a blind date," he babbles... Like me! "Anyways, you can call me over using this buzzer here on the table." He gestured down to a small button on the edge of said table, right in the middle, easy to reach from both sides.
"I've never been to a restaurant that has these," he was blushing by the time I'd finished. Huh.
"Yeah, um, as far as I know we are the only place that has them," He was smiling down at me, but then he wasn't. Because he was frowning down at a small device that was hanging around his neck. "Just buzz if you need anything," and then he was walking across the room to another table.
Forty minutes had passed and still, there is no one sitting across from me.
He might be running late.
Doesn't matter. I'm not getting my hopes up. At all. No hopes will be getting up. None.
An hour. He could still be on his way. He might live a little out of town and didn't realize how long the drive would be.
Maybe I'm early.
It's okay. I'm not getting my hopes up. If he doesn't show, he doesn't show. It's fine.
"Hey, uh, are you going to order, sir?"
"I'm waiting for someone, thank you."
"You've been waiting two hours."
"He's not coming is he?"
Dean's standing next to me, an empty tray in his hands and a sad look on his face.
"There's still time."
I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up.
Four hours of waiting, and now my hope was shattered, in a million pieces on the floor. Pathetic.
There's a hand, and a piece of pie on the table now. Huh.
"Pie makes me feel better."
Dean sat down across from me again, smiling a little when I glance up at him.
"Made it myself. It's good. I had some before."
It is good by the way. Really good actually.
"Shouldn't you be waiting?"
"Ha, uh, we closed up a half hour ago," he wrapped his lips around him teeth trying not to smile, "I said I'd give you the boot when I locked up."
"I am pathetic. God, I'm so stupid. I got my hopes up. So high too. And now look," I exclaimed, gesturing to the floor, "it's shattered all over this lovely floor."
Dean chuckled dryly.
"You better put it back together, man. Hope's what keeps us going."
"What do you mean?"
He looked up, and smiled sadly at me.
"Hope. It's such a magical word, right? But it's the meaning behind it. It's hope that keeps kids happy. It's hope that starts new relationships. It's hope that mends a broken heart. Hope. We all need it."
Dean. Dean is amazing.
"I wish you were my date. At least you're interesting."
He snorted. "Yeah, so interesting. I work three jobs and busk on the side to get my family through the year, week by week. I'm not that interesting."
Great. A family. There goes my chance. Oh look someone stepped on my hope and broke it some more.
"You busk?"
"Yeah, on Sundays. Me and my Hope, we go out and find a nice street corner and show that street what we're made of."
His hope?
"You're hope? Are you making fun of me?" Am I smiling because of his adorableness or because I've gone crazy?
"My daughter. Well, she's not my daughter, but when I as 16 my friend, she had a baby. She didn't want to tell her parents that the father had skipped town so she told them I got her preggers. Bit of a shock for me when her dad turned up threatening to rip my balls off. I was so scared, because like, I don't even like girls. So how the fuck did I get her pregnant.?"
Laughing felt good.
"Then I seen Jo standing behind her old man, pleading with me to say it was true. Best decision I ever made was standing up and just - 'I love your daughter and you can deal with that. My kid's gunna be awesome!' and then he hit me. But now I have this little rug-rat and I'm happy. So, what about you?"
Huh? What about me? What does he want to know?
"You got any kids? Or any life changing stories? You got a name?"
"Castiel. No kids. Not a very life changing story kinda guy."
Dean was snorting. "Castiel?"
"Yes."
"As in the Angel of Thursday?"
We'd been sitting here for an hour, just talking.
Dean worked as a waiter Monday to Wednesday nights. He was a mechanic Sunday through to Wednesday all day, nine to five, and a baker at a cake shop he co-owns Thursday, Friday and every second Saturday.
He spent every weekend with Hope, but she lived with his parents most days, unless Dean picked her up after work to spend some extra time with her.
"On Fridays and Saturdays she helps me in the Bakery. She makes the tarts and the cookies while I make the bread and the pies and cakes. She's awesome."
And his brother Sam, was at college. "Acing all his classes, of course. He's a genius. He got a scholarship, but that doesn't pay his rent or food. So I send him out enough to help him get by when I can. He can't work with the hours he's studying. I'm surprised he even has time for a girlfriend."
And then more about Hope.
"She's super smart too. She knows I'm not biologically her father, but she told me once, when I had to explain why her grandparents where trying to take custody, she told me, 'you aren't my father. Doesn't mean you're not my Daddy.' She said the same thing to the judge. She's so sweet. She's five now, she'll be six soon. She's super excited about that."
And we talked about me being stood up. And how Dean would never stand me up.
And then it was one in the morning. And Dean was walking me to my car. And Dean was kissing my cheek. And opening my door for me.
"You should take me out sometime. I promise I won't leave you waiting Cas."
"Sure," whispering was the only tone I could use, without yelling in his face.
"I want to kiss you."
"Kiss me."
He smiled.
"I can't. I have a five year old little girl who depends on me. I don't rush into things."
"I'll see you soon?"
"Soon."
And then he was walking towards his own car.
Dean works at his bakery on Fridays. He never mentioned the name, but it wasn't hard finding the only bakery in town that was only open on three specific days.
And there they were. Dean, and a little girl, behind the counter rolling out dough.
A bell tinkled as I walked through the door, making the little girl turn towards me.
"Welcome to Hopes House, Sir. I'm Hope."
She was small, and smiling, and very adorable.
"Hey Cas."
Dean sounded surprised, and tired. He looked different. Crazy what four days could do to someone.
His eyes had way too big bags under them, his hair was a mess, and his back slouched forward weakly.
"Hello, Dean," I smiled at him, before looking back down at Hope, "can I have some tarts please?"
She squealed excitedly.
"Yes! I made them myself!"
Then she was darting across the floor, towards a cooler in the back behind a heap of shelves.
"Don't run in here Hope."
Dean walked across to the counter, smiling small and tired, before stretching, groaning as his bones popped.
"Hmm, you hunting me down, huh?"
"Yeah. I missed you. Does that make me crazy?"
"You're crazy, no matter what you feel."
"Thanks."
There was a bang from the back of the store, followed by Hopes "OOOOW!" followed by laughter.
She walked around a shelf of bread and towards Dean with her hands on her head and her shoulders shaking with laughter.
"I hit my head on the fridge door," she gasped out before nearly tumbling over in a fit of giggles.
Dean walked towards the back of the store laughing, returning moments later with an assortment of tarts.
"Which flavor would you like?" He asked over the loud noises coming from his daughter
"Strawberry. Please."
Three days later and no more tarts, I was starting to get an itchy palm.
I wanted to see Dean, but I had no idea what garage he worked at. So all I could do was sit around and watch my fish.
But then I needed milk. And then my car wouldn't start. So then I had to walk to the supermarket. And that took me 3 hours. But I needed my coffee.
So, whilst at the supermarket, I figured I could go into the auto shop and ask about my car issues, see if it was something easily fixed. And then there he was.
Squatting down next to the oils in the store, trying to decide which one he needed. And gosh, his ass was beautiful in those jeans. His everything was beautiful in those jeans.
"Excuse me, Sir," and then there as a store assist, deterring my attention from my future husbands hot bod. Yes. I'm gunna marry that ass.
"Yes?" I wasn't in the mood to be polite.
"Is there something I can help you with. You've been standing here for a while."
I saw Dean smirk out of the corner of my eye. That little shit.
"My car. Has a problem with starting. Do you know anyone who does house visits?"
Then Mr. I-know-I'm-sexy decided to interrupt.
"I could swing by and help you out later on, Cas. It's no hassle."
Help me out of what, exactly?
"Oh, no, that's fine. I'm sure your busy."
I also don't want you within a seven mile radius of my bed whilst you're in those jeans.
"Aw, c'mon Cas. I'll do it for free. I'd love to meet your fish."
"Okay. Fine."
In those jeans or not, I needed my car fixed.
Dean had gotten my address after buying his items and asking me to follow him to his car for a pen.
"See you after I finish work." Then he had kissed my cheek a lowered himself into his vintage Chevy. Nice.
Now I was waiting for him to arrive. He hadn't given me a specific time, and it was nerve wracking, and then his car was there, out the front. Mocking me.
'Hey, guess who's in me? You're way-too-young crush in sexy, grease covered jeans.'
Oh no. He's moving, oh, no, he's getting out! He's gunna come knock, and then I'll have to invite him in and he'll see my fish and think I'm a freak.
I could act like I don't live here. Shit, he knows my car.
Knock Knock.
Shit.
"Hey, stalker."
His eyes looked impossibly green and I think I melted.
"Hello. Do you want a drink?"
Don't look down. Don't look down. Idiot.
"Sure," I hate his stupid smile, "I'd love one."
I probably looked like I had a stick shoved up my ass with how stiff I felt.
Sexy jeans make me awkward, I guess.
I let him help himself. And then it was awkward, because I didn't know what to say, and I didn't want to hand him over to my car just yet.
"FISH!" I yelled. And then I was mortified, because he jumped and ducked and then he was laughing at me.
"What?" He gasped out.
I stuck my finger in the direction of my fish tank. "Fish. I have fish."
I couldn't even look at him as he walked past me, laughing, so I just stared at nothing, somewhere near the back of the lounge.
He was still chuckling lightly when he bent down to look at the fish.
"They're really cool," and then he was laughing again, and as embarrassed as I was, I couldn't not love they crinkles his eyes were making.
"I cant' - I'm gunna piss myself, ah, can I keep you?" He had stopped laughing, and was now wiping tears from his eyes.
"I'm pretty sure keeping humans is illegal."
"Ha ha. I needed that laugh Cas, thanks."
"You're welcome? Car? I have a broken car. That you should fix. Please."
"Sure."
His fond smile did not go unnoticed.
"You should take me on a picnic," Dean said from under the bonnet of my car, "on a hill."
"Huh?"
"For that date you promised me. I wanna go on a picnic."
"Sounds fun. Should I bring my fish?"
His shoulders shook, and I'm not beyond imagining the smile that was probably gracing his face.
Then he was out from under the bonnet, and walking towards me shyly.
"With big, sweet strawberry's. And some apple pie. I love me some apple pie. And a big blanket. On a hill. With flowers."
"You're just a big ol' softy aren't you?"
"Yeah."
And then he was kissing me. Soft and sweet and perfect.
"I'll give you whatever you want if you always kiss me like that," I whispered when he pulled away.
"I fixed your car."
He stuck around for an hour longer, we talked about my fish, and then he had to go get Hope.
"Oh, and don't worry about our date too much Cas," he yelled over the hood of his car, or Baby, as he seemed to call her, "I won't stand you up."
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