Happy Friend-versary
Dean wasn't one for sentiment, but when it came to his friendship with his 'work bestie' Cas he had to make an exception. He'd been crushing on the dude for years; would always hang around Cas' desk and distract him from work with their silly games; the one where they'd send pages and pages of confusing sentences invented solely by the predictive text feature on their phones; or the one where they'd steal as many small items from chosen victims in the office as they could before they got caught. Oh, Dean's favourite game was the 'impossible challenge' where Castiel would think up a seemingly impossible task for Dean to complete within a day. Once, Cas set him the challenge of phoning up and holding conversation with everyone with the surname Johnson in the state for a minimum of five minutes. Dean found every damn Johnson (children excluded, because, obviously) and talked each one senseless. It was a good day. One time, Castiel's favourite flavour of Herr's chips wasn't in the vending machine, and Dean took it upon himself to hunt him down a packet in a day. The guy's face lit up so bright, Dean near went blind. He reached out like a needy child for the packet and sulked when Dean refused for all of five minutes. Cas was cute when he was needy and grumpy.
Anyway, Dean had decided that for their 18-month friend-versary he would take Castiel out. Just for a drink, mind you, he wasn't that sentimental. Please. He shrugged on his coat, and shut off his computer. He and Cas were the last two in the office, but when he looked up in the direction of Castiel's desk it was empty. Dean frowned.
"Cas?"
"Dean, get over here, quick." Came the loudly whispered reply, followed by a hand appearing above the desk, before disappearing behind it once more. Dean grinned, running at a crouch to Castiel's desk and squatting beside him. Cas was sat almost entirely under his desk armed with the nerf gun he'd use to get Dean's attention on busy days. He was pointing his weapon at the corner of the ceiling just above his desk. Dean saw the villain almost immediately, and snorted… he was not scared.
"Now that's what I call a spider." He laughed nervously.
"Dean, we have to get rid of it."
"What do you mean? It's fin-"
"It's anything but fine. It will sit there for months, Dean, just wait. It'll watch me working, I'll know it's there, and I won't be able to get any work done, and then I'll get fired, and then I won't be able to pay my rent, and then I'll be homeless, and then I'll get pneumonia and die, and it'll be all this spider's fault."
"Cas, we barely ever get any work done… do you remember the last time you actually did some actual work?" Dean smirked, but Castiel's eyes were trained solely on the spider, which, Dean swore he saw raised one of its legs in a friendly salute.
"I answered ten phone calls today." Castiel said proudly, finally turning to Dean and putting on his best 'employee of the month' face.
"How many of those were from me?"
Cas' eyes slid back to the eight-legged intruder and murmured, "Five."
Dean shifted to a kneeling position; he was going to be here a while.
"You got another gun?"
Cas nodded, narrowing his eyes at the prey, before tapping the top drawer and murmuring, "Get the rest of the ammo too."
Dean leaned over him and pulled open the draw, the sudden, loud, scraping sound making Castiel squeal.
"Dean! Dean, shit it's moving! Stop making noise, you're freaking it out. Eurgh, why does it move like that?!"
Dean surpressed a shudder, and grabbed the other nerf gun and spare ammo, before very gingerly shutting the drawer again and crawling under the desk beside his friend.
"Right, we've got… ten chances to kill this mother." He takes steady aim, and looks to his friend, wrapped as he always was in a crisp suit that hugged him in, damn, all the right places. He forces his eyes to concentrate on Castiel's face instead, trying not to obsess over the sharp line of his jaw or the long, elegant planes of his cheeks. Castiel's mouth is set in a grim line, and he nods seriously.
"Let's do this."
"Wait, let's count down." Dean blabbers. Castiel grins, but obliges.
"One…"
"No, down."
"Sorry. Three… two…"
"Wait, on one or after one?"
"On 'go'."
"Okay. Okay, ready."
"Three… two…" Castiel's voice rose in pitch and volume, "One… Go." He squeaked, squeezing his eyes shut and squeezing the trigger. Dean couldn't hold back the yelp that escaped him as Castiel's first bullet startled the spider into a frenzied, creepily fast dance that sent unpleasant shivers down his arms and legs. Why do they move like that?
"Oh god. Oh god, Cas, it's coming this way! Itscomingthiswayquickquickohmygodohmygod." Dean screams, firing three shots in quick succession.
"Dean! Oh my god GETITAWAY."
"GO AWAY!" Dean yells up at the spider.
"YOU. ARE. NOT. WELCOME. HERE." Castiel shouts, each word punctuated with a shot. Dean was watching the ceiling with wide-eyes, shifting to get his shoe off his foot. The little cretin was dodging every shot (not hard, as Castiel was shooting with his eyes closed, and most of them weren't even hitting the ceiling) and was looking less scared, and more infuriated. For one crazy moment, Dean wondered if it would leap down and attack them both. Cas was now curled impossibly close to Dean, trying to hide behind him. Dean reached an arm behind him and wrapped it clumsily about Castiel's back. He aimed with his left hand (not the best strategy) and fired his last two shots at the spider, the fifth a narrow miss. He picked up his shoe and hurled it full force at the ceiling. And then the worst: the spider disappeared.
"Oh my god where is it?" Dean whimpered.
"What do you mean 'where is it'?!" Cas cried, pressing closer into Dean's back.
"It's gone!" Dean whimpers, trying to push his way further under the desk, but Castiel's body is in the way, for pity's sake.
"Oh my god, Dean, it's there IT'S OVER THERE ON THE WALL OH CHRIST." Cas screams, pointing dramatically at the wall directly in front of them. It's crawling towards the floor.
"I'm gonna smush it." Dean yells, tapping Castiel wherever he can reach him at this awkward angle. "Don't worry, dude, I'm gonna get that sonuvabitch." Castiel balls his fists and pushes Dean out of their safe haven with a yelp.
Dean removes his other shoe and brandishes it above his head, moving dramatically slowly towards the wall, where the spider has once again stilled. Dean can't decide what's more creepy; the spider's unpredictable moves, or that calculating stillness, like it's waiting for him to wander blindly into a trap. He shudders visibly; no need to pretend he ever had dignity to begin with at this point. He's inches away from his victim, when a voice startles him enough to illicit yet another scream.
"Woah, Dean. It's me. I left my…" his eyes trail over the scattered nerf bullets, and Dean's left shoe, belly up on the floor, "What are you doing?" Sam says, barely concealing his laughter when Cas kneels up to poke his head over the edge of his desk.
Dean clears his throat, trying to inconspicuously distance himself from the wall instead that spider tries any funny business.
"There… there was a spider."
"Oh my god." Sam cries through his laughter, "Just wait until Gabe hears about this tomorrow."