Castiel found himself in the one stall bathroom of the Impala Cafe, trying to fit into his new clothes provided by Crowley. It was proving to be a daunting task, as they were really tight.

"Are all of these uniforms abnormally small?" Castiel spoke timidly through the door.

"Uh," Dean's uncertain voice responded, "They run...small."

Castiel sighed in relief as he finally managed to button his shorts. The outfit certainly felt tight, but breezy and comfortable at the same time. He stepped over to look in the mirror, and saw his slim frame on display for the entire world, and their mother. He made a mental note to ask Crowley for a larger one at a later date. As he was fixing his messy, residually damp hair, he saw a bit of graffiti on the mirror. A messy red pen scrawled in the corner read: "For A Good Time Call: 555-DEAN-WINCHESTER." Castiel pondered the rudeness of the comment before seriously inspecting his stormy, blue eyes.

'I was homeless an hour ago. I wanted to die on the street an hour ago. I ran away from my entire life a matter of days ago...and now, suddenly, these men in the cafe...they're, they're giving me hope...'

The corners of his mouth turned upward in a slight smile. He turned and left the small room. As he opened the door, his eyes were met with the figure of Dean, lazily leaning against the wall across from the door, a content look occupying his face.

"Everything fit okay?" Dean asked softly, and was met with a quiet nod from Castiel. He smiled as he started to lead Castiel back into the cafe's main area. In the opposite direction, Castiel turned slightly and saw an elevator at the end of a dark hallway. He silently questioned its purpose before hurrying to follow Dean.

As they entered the cafe, they saw Crowley impatiently tapping his floor near the opposite door.

"I'm going to head out," He called across the room, "So, Dean, why don't you show Cassie here around a little before you show him upstairs, and then lock up?"

"Will do, Boss."

Dean and Castiel entered "Coffee Shop 101" and as Dean instructed he started to make small talk with his trainee.

"So, Cas-I'm gonna call you Cas- why were you even out tonight?"

Castiel smiled slightly at the creation of his new nickname. "I just made an exodus from my previous life, and was traveling...looking for a new one...I suppose." He muttered as he topped off a practice frappucino. "Is that how it's meant to be done?"

"Yeah, you're a natural, man!" Dean took the cup from Cas' hand, and took a hearty sip from it. "It tastes great, too!"

"Thanks," Cas mumbled.

"God damn, I wish I could have made fraps this good my first day," Dean smiled in spite of himself as he took another sip.

"Perhaps it is my destiny to work in a cafe," Cas mused, "Although my destiny seems to be changing at a rather rapid rate these days."

"Yeah...why did you...leave your old life...in the dust? Is that what you said you did?" Dean titled his head, confused.

Cas let a slight laugh split his lips. "Close enough," He uttered and looked away, hoping it would cue Dean not to push him.

Dean overlooked this cue. He moved his body to stare straight into Cas' eyes: "What happened?"

Cas felt his heart palpitate and swiftly looked at the floor, as Dean chugged the rest of the drink. "I d-don't really want to talk about it, actually."

Dean nodded sympathetically, "Hey, we all got our shit, man. It's fine. You've grasped all the basic drinks, so let's do the pastries."

Cas let out a sigh of relief, and then felt his heart flutter in his chest as Dean roughly pulled his hand toward the pastry case.

Dean bent at the knees a little to get on at eye level with the pastries in the case. "Okay, so it seems to go without saying, but I always ask the customers who point to oatmeal cookies if they really want oatmeal cookies because most of the time they do not-"

The sound of the entry bell rang. A tangible aroma of tequila forced its way into the cafe. The cafe door slammed shut.

"Yeah, tha's the ass I been lookin' for," A stumbling voice berated Cas' ears. He looked confusedly toward Dean, who rolled his eyes without shifting his gaze away from the oatmeal cookies.

"Can't you see we are closed, Alastair?" Dean's suddenly bored and venomous voice came as a stark contrast to the one Cas had been briefly acquainted with.

"Yeah, I saw thaht, I did, but I need you baby, righ' now, why don't we just head up-" Alastair's desperate whine falling on deaf ears.

"Do you want me tell Crowley that you stopped in tonight?" Dean's voice smooth as he turned to face the drunken man.

He swayed and thought about that outcome. "No."

"Well, alright then," Dean's face featured a pleased smirk as he waved, "See you never, asshole."

"Well...wha'...about your friend there, he looks like a vir-"

"Leave," Dean roared as he suddenly exploded and flew across the cafe. He shoved Alastair back a few inches, "NOW."

"All right, all right, Winchesturr," Alastair rasped as Dean threw him out on the street. Dean's face was livid. He turned around and was met with an extremely confused Cas who shifted slightly in place under the infuriated gaze, vaguely turned on by the confrontation.

If Dean Winchester blushed, you would have said he blushed. But Dean Winchester does not blush, so you can he became red in the face as his face filled with sheepishness. He rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to think of an explanation- any explanation- when Cas offered up.

"Well...we all got our...shit, don't we?"

Dean smiled and warmed Cas' body from the inside out. "We do," The smile persisted as he checked his watch, "And that was the bad shit. But, there's also the good shit. My little brother Sammy gets extremely worried if I don't come home by midnight. I will see you bright and early in the morning?" Dean started to make his way outside.

"Wait, Dean? Where am I supposed to be sleeping?"

"Oh," Dean suddenly remembered, "Go back to the elevator, and go up to level four. You can take a shower and do whatever you need to, okay?"

"Okay," Cas nodded.

"Tomorrow," Dean said as he turned off the lights and closed the door. It clicked locked. Dean waved vigorously through the window, and Cas waved back.

Cas looked around the cafe. It felt cozy. Comfortable, already. He smiled to himself as he crossed to the back, past the bathrooms, and to the elevator. He clicked the up button, and waited a few seconds before being met with an open elevator door. The elevator had light, hunter green carpeting, and mirrors from floor to ceiling. The inside of the elevator was minimalistic, but had the same taste the cafe seemed to radiate. Cas assumed it was Crowley's taste. He thought about how unnerving it was to watch himself in the mirrors as he traversed the building up to the fourth floor. When the elevator doors opened Cas was surprised to see an apartment that was as big as the entire first floor of the cafe. It seemed like it was extravagantly decorated, but Cas didn't care to notice the extent. All he cared about was getting into to bed, and after getting tangled in the lofting canopy of the bed he found, he fell right into it and to sleep in minutes.