Songs and lyrics in this chapter I do not own-
Mr. Jones, by Counting Crows
Runnin', by Jensen Ackles
Chapter 2. Rank And File
"Sir," Ash said, walking over to the deuce Dean was elbows deep in.
"Yeah," Dean called, not stopping the torque on the wrench, almost done wrestling the corroded bolt open.
"Delivery is arriving."
"Thank you, Specialist."
"Yes, sir," Ash saluted and hustled off to his computer at the end of the carpool bay.
The bolt slid and Dean heaved a sigh, removing it.
"PFC Trenton," Dean hollered, wiping his hands off and straightening his back.
"Yes, Sir!" Cole Trenton came running.
"Finish this deuce."
"Sir, yes, sir."
Dean went to a sink, scrubbing the grease off and headed for the entry to the bay.
"Sergeant," Dean said, stepping up beside his mentor and fell into military rest. Bobby Singer was a hardass and a teddy bear. And Dean loved the old bastard.
"Sergeant Winchester. How are the troops today?"
"They're workin'. I hope this shipment isn't too big."
"Huh, guess you didn't look at the spec sheet, ya idjit."
Dean saw 5 tow trucks headed his way. "Wonderful," Dean said, flatly.
As the trucks rolled in, Bobby directed them where to park.
A thin, nervous looking Private First Class Chambers approached Dean. "Sergeant, we have a problem loading a Buffalo."
"Where?" Dean asked. Buffalo vehicles were huge.
"I can take you. Sergeant Crowley is asking for a rescue, right inside gate 1."
"Alright," Dean said, taking in the nervous young woman. "Wait here."
Dean went to Bobby to report the situation. After explaining his plan, Bobby agreed.
PFC Chambers drove Dean, Charlie, and Benny while several LAV-R rescue vehicles followed.
As they rounded the final bend, the scene at the gate unfolded before them. The giant Buffalo lay on its side. Traffic was backing up in both directions and Sergeant Crowley was screaming at a line of men.
"This is a royal fugazie," Dean huffed.
"Nah, we got this," Charlie grinned. Dean had to laugh. PFC Chambers pulled up to Crowley and they got out.
"Well, the Calvary has finally arrived," Crowley yelled.
Dean strode purposely toward him, stopping short in front of him.
"You can stop screaming Sergeant. We'll have this squared away in no time."
"I'LL STOP SCREAMING WHEN SHIT STARTS MOVING! SERGEANT!" Crowley screamed.
"Yeah," Dean sighed, walking away. He had dealt with Crowley before. At least they were the same rank. Otherwise, he would not be able to give him hell back. Charlie met him in front of the Buffalo. After sorting out several details, they had the LAV rescue vehicles placed and hoisting the metal beast upright.
"See," came a familiar voice. Dean, Charlie, Benny and Crowley stood up straight and saluted Major Gabriel.
"At ease," Gabe waved. "See, I told my guys this would be over in no time."
"We will be out of your way momentarily, sir." Dean said. Dean glanced over at the other soldiers standing quietly behind Gabe. Dean's jaw clenched as he spotted the blue eyed man standing just to Gabe's right. He was relaxed and openly watching Dean like the rest of the squad. An Army Ranger squad. Tan berets and strong jaws. 'He's a fucking Ranger. Of course he is.'
"Impressive unit guys," Gabe grinned. "Didn't I say Car Pool would have this over before 2?"
The men nodded and responded, yes, sir. Dean's eyes betrayed his strict orders from himself to not look at Ranger Hot-As-Fuck. Blue eyes watched him quietly with a relaxed stance. He was neither smiling nor frowning. Dean's eyes flew back to Gabe and back again. 'Novak. His name patch said Novak. Captain Novak. He's an officer. I figured that much. And Gabriel's last name is Novak. Related? Probably. Shit.'
"Well done," Gabe nodded.
"Thank you, sir," Dean saluted as the group walked back to their awaiting jeep.
Dean let out a long, slow breath and jogged back to Charlie's side.
The buffalo was on it's wheels again and being hoisted to tow.
"I already reported to Sergeant Singer," Charlie said.
"Good. Let's get back to the bay and sort this shit out." His head felt messy. His thoughts were everywhere. As they rode back to the car pool, Dean allowed himself a brief break in thought. 'Novak was fucking gorgeous. Relaxed, in a bar in civvies he looked hot. Today, in the full bright sunlight and in his uniform...he looked fucking delicious.' Thoughts he had not had since he was barely a teenager began to poke through. Flashes of what it might feel like to kiss him. Touch him. 'Whoa. Right now. Fucking whoa.'
That evening, he drove into the Roadhouse to meet up with Benny, Jo, Ash and probably Cole. It was Monday night and the place was calm. Busy, but respectable. He sat down with Benny and the others. They wanted his tale of the fallen Buffalo. Dean, per usual, shrugged it off with few words. Jo rolled her eyes but quickly brightened when Charlie sat down.
"Now, I know you can tell a way better version of the dying Buffalo than Dean!" Jo said excitedly.
"Oh!" Charlie smiled, chipper as always. "First, Dean, would you please, please, please, get me an order of fries and a beer?"
"Sure," Dean said, needing a beer himself.
He walked over to the bar, leaning against it and waiting for Ellen. He knew she was busy. While Monday's were slower business wise, she got her inventory stocked that day, making her quite busy.
"I'll be right with you boys!" Ellen said brightly, buzzing past him. Dean looked down the bar to his right, but no one else appeared to be waiting for her. He glanced over his left shoulder and- 'Jesus on a cracker!' Novak stood just behind him. 'This guy needs a fucking bell! A little dinging cowbell so I have warning that he will be in my immediate vicinity. So I can run! Jesus, take a breath.' Their eyes made contact again, Dean's by accident, of course, and Novak's with a slow, steady stare. He was wearing a blue t-shirt and jeans and his hair looked slightly messy. It made Dean's fingers flinch, curl, and want to touch it. He was not quite as tall as Dean, but close. But it was his vibe of command that made Dean's heart rate jump. In Dean's experience, there were two types of officers. Those like Charlie that were officers because they went to college and were smart. Then there were officers that commanded power. They were an officer no matter if you were standing at parade, working, driving, hell, they could be on their knees playing with a toddler, and still they exuded power and command. And Novak was the latter.
He tipped his head slightly and a slight smile lifted one side of his mouth.
"Hey," Dean said, gruff and stuttering. And he damn-well knew he was an officer. He should have at least tried to act respectful. Dean focused forward, watching Ellen come near him again.
"Alright, Dean, whatcha want?" Dean froze. Why was he here? He had a reason! "Fries!" He blurted. "And two beers. Please."
Ellen grinned but narrowed her eyes slightly, then they flitted over his shoulder. "Cas, what can I get you?"
"Burger, no onion, fries, and a beer, please."
"You got it."
'Cas. Cas Novak. Captain Cas Novak. Cas...Caster? Casper? Casanova?'
"Nice work with the Buffalo today."
'Holy Jesus tap dancing on a fucking cracker. He just spoke to me. To me! And his voice. Oh...mercy...it's like sex honey. Shit! Answer! Stow your shit and get with the fucking program.'
"Thank you...sir," Dean said, not sure if he should be formal or relaxed. He wanted to say more, but the guy wasn't exactly 'inviting' looking. Obviously observing him, but not really approachable with it. It was the close set of his jaw and an aloofness that Dean had to respect. He was an officer and a Ranger. Way outta any league Dean had ever dreamed about. Dean twitched slightly under the heavy observance of Novak's serene blue eyes. He wished he could talk to him like he could usually talk to girls, but all that was happening in his head at the moment was a giant drooling 'duuuuhhhh...'
"Hey, Cas!" Major Gabriel said, slapping Cas on the shoulder. Cas turned his head the tiniest bit.
"Gabriel, how are you?"
"Good! Hey, Dean!" Gabe grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets and grinning widely.
Dean felt extremely out-ranked. Like a rabbit being looked at by a pair of dragons.
"Evening, Sir," he managed, tugging out his I'm-relaxed-and-charming smile.
"What a fuckin mess today, right? You shoulda seen Crowley freaking out!" Gabe laughed, but Cas remained steady, eyes elsewhere, but frequently back to Dean.
"Hey, bro," Gabe said, reaching up and putting his hand on Cas' shoulder, "would you get me a appletini?"
Cas nodded and Gabe was gone. Ellen came whirling out of the kitchen. Fries and beers were pushed his way and Dean grabbed them. Feeling Cas' presence next to him like an inferno, he glanced over his shoulder and gave a quick grin. "Night."
Cas nodded, his eyes ticking down to the things he was carrying and back up. Dean headed for the table, thankful he was out of the awkward situation and disappointed to be done already. 'I'm such a fuckin' nut. Dude sure can stare though! Damn!'
The tale of the Buffalo had been much improved by Charlie. The evening passed quickly and Dean knew he needed to leave soon. Jo, Ash and Cole took off when they were done eating. Benny left soon after. Charlie and Dean were left. Both looked pensive.
"What's up with you?" Dean asked, nudging her beer bottle with his.
She slumped back in her seat. "Things are not going well with DOMA. Looks like Dorothy and I will not be getting married."
"That is so stupid," Dean scoffed.
"I know," Charlie said quietly. "It's legal in every state. I fight, Dorothy fights, to keep every state free. But we can't get married. And if we push anything, they slap a 'fraternization' charge on us and bam. Careers over."
"I'm so sorry, Charlie."
She nodded. Time passed and Dean watched Cas sitting at another table across the bar. He was with Gabe and some other Rangers. Cas was generally quiet, but Gabe seemed to get him going telling stories or something that kept him talking. He felt jealous of Gabe. 'How can Gabe sit that close, even touch him, and not drool?'
Cas' head started to turn and Dean quickly shifted his eyes to Charlie. 'Shit. I gotta stop. I'm gonna get busted. Does Charlie know I'm checkin out a guy? And I can't let Captain Cas Novak catch me...'
Dean noticed how sad and still Charlie looked. She needed distracted.
"Hey, Charlie," he said quietly, catching her eyes with his. "Tell me what you know about Major Gabriel and this crew he hangs with."
"Mmm. Gabriel and the rest of them are Rangers. They aren't just good. They are like, Laura Croft good."
Dean nodded, stealing a cold fry off her plate. She glanced at him and followed his gaze back to the group. "They seem cool. Not rangerific. Let's see...Gabe is Military Intelligence, with mad-hatter skills."
"Seriously?" Dean asked.
"Seriously."
"He seems so...chill. Too relaxed to be focused enough to be a Ranger."
"I know, right! But I swear to God, it's like he snaps his fingers and shit goes his way. I've been in combat zones with him and he is just as relaxed there as he is here drinking those appletinis!"
"That's crazy," Dean smirked. But he believed Charlie's assessment. Frankly, he believed every assessment of hers to be true. She had her own set of mad-hatter skills.
"And I swear, he knows everyone. And he's not stuck up. He talks to privates the same as he addresses a General. But he hangs out mostly with his Rangers. And of course he plays with Jason and Chuck."
Dean nodded. Although Dean played with Jason and Chuck too, it was not as often as Gabriel. And the pair had just never quite crossed paths before. He wanted more info. "How do you know so much about everyone, Bradbury? I bet you know every person at his table."
Charlie giggled. "Let's see. The first one, with dark hair next to Gabe, is Castiel Novak, Captain, stoic guy." She leaned over, closer to Dean. "Word is he's 35F and fucking scary as hell. I heard they call him Thursday. But I don't know the story behind it. Anyhow, he's related to Gabe. Cousins maybe? And they're tight. The guy next to Novak is Michaels." Dark hair, piercing eyes and that same steady, intense look as Gabriel and Cas. "He's infantry. Bad-ass as hell and kinda cold. Then there's Roscoe and Eldon Styne. They are cousins and major rangerific. Their shit's probably ammo shaped."
Dean laughed.
"Next guy is Gadreel. He's MI. Negotiates a lot. Very stiff. Like Asberger's or Petrificus Totalis. Umm...the next guy is Christian Campbell, first Lieutenant and same for the next guy, Warren. Although Warren should be higher rank by now but he is known to be a trouble-starter. I think Gabe is keeping an eye on him. Can't have people like that as Rangers."
"You are amazing," Dean said.
She wiggled and grinned.
'35F. Jesus. Human Inteligence Collector. Interrogators. Linguists. And being a Ranger on top of that...he was probably doing some Jack Bauer shit.' It gave Dean chills. But were they chills of fear or chills of anticipation. Dean thought about the intensity of that blue eyed stare. 'Okay...so staring is actually like a skill-set of his. Why does he have to be so damn intense? And an officer. It's ...impossible in every way. And the guy meant nothing by his stares. He is just that intense. It had nothing to do with me. It's just how he is.'
"Did you ever talk to Novak?" Dean asked, wondering if everyone reacted to the man's powers like he did.
"Only once. He needed a jeep for transport."
"He's kinda...intense."
Charlie looked closer at him and took a sip of beer. "Yeah. Kinda wants to make you role around like a kitten...or fucking hide."
Dean laughed. "Okay, so it's not just me?"
"No!" Charlie laughed. "He's fucking intense!"
"Dude, I thought I was losin' it!" Dean laughed. But a bitter seed popped in his gut. If he was intense with everyone, then the interactions they had had meant nothing. It really was all nothing. Dean had jumped the gun and breached a locked door within himself...for nothing.
By Friday, Dean felt he had shook the 'incident' sufficiently. They had a back-up of vehicles a mile long and he was busy. The entire Car Pool was busy and running well. He went home Friday night and showered and headed for the Roadhouse. Jason had finally nagged him enough to play with them tonight.
He walked in, guitar case on his back and headed for the hallway back by the bathrooms. There was an instrument holding area for those playing. It was a hallway, really, but it let the performers gear-up, enter and exit off stage rather than stepping down into the crowd. Dean would never describe himself as shy, but he preferred playing with just friends. Something had shifted inside him recently though. He was ready for something. To get laid maybe. Yeah, that would fix the 'incident' for sure.
"We go on in five," Jason said. "Join us for Mr. Jones?"
"Alright," Dean said.
He waited in the hall, watching them play two songs and then walked out for Mr. Jones.
"Let's hear it for my friend here," the crowd cheered, not giving a shit who was singing, but having a good time with the music. "Dean, this is all you, man."
Dean grinned, stepping up and adjusting the mic. He strummed a few chords and glanced around the crowd. Some of his unit was here. And damned if that table full of Rangers were looking at him. Dean barely skimmed the blue eyes of Novak, shutting them out so he could freakin focus. His chord stumbled and he looked at Jason, picking up where he was. He doubled his efforts and launched into it,
'I was down in the New Amsterdam..' The crowd cheering. It was a song Dean could feel. Talking to his drinks, turning to alcohol as a companion after the destruction of Lisa. He had intended to keep his eyes down, avoiding the Rangers, but as he lost himself in the song he forgot.
'Believe in me...help me believe in anything,
Cuz I, I wanna be someone who believes,
Yeah,
Mr. Jones and me tell each other fairy tales and we stare at the beautiful women,
She's lookin at you, oh, no, no, she's lookin at me'
Dean looked right at Cas as he sang the last line, a devilish bravery rearing up inside him. Glancing away, he finished the song, Jason backing him. It felt good to be out on stage again.
Dean bowed out, heading for the hallway, loading his guitar and leaving it there. He left through the the door by the bathrooms, heading for the bar and a much needed drink.
"Beer," Dean said to Becky, who usually didn't bartend. They must be short staffed tonight. She was a dingy waitress, and Dean always got a stalker vibe when she was around. Added bonus, she was their neighbor.
"Gotcha, Dean," she giggled.
He gave her his charming smile, even though she was totally a lost cause and never gonna leave with him. Or his brother, who she loved to drool over even more than himself.
Singing that line to Cas had been stupid of him. He should have let sleeping dogs lie. He turned back, glancing at the table of Rangers. As if alerted to his thoughts, Cas stopped mid sentence and glanced right at him, smiling.
'Is he smiling at me? He's just smiling in general.' Dean could not help but smile back. It was contagious. It was like the sun rising. It was beautiful and gone, just like that, turned back to the table where he continued talking. 'Did he smile at me? Was that directed at me?'
He slid money over to Becky, telling her to keep the change and went to join Charlie. The usual gang was there and the evening flew by. Four beers later, Dean headed for the bathroom. As he entered the hallway to the bathroom, several women passed him, leaving and he saw a couple making out against the end of the hall, right by the men's room door.
The guy was up against the wall and the girl was curvy and sexy, wanting way more than what she was already getting. Then a bucket of cold water spilled over his insides as he saw the guy kissing her was Cas. 'If I didn't have to piss so bad I'd turn around. Come on Winchester, three steps to the door.' One of his hands was in her hair and the other was on her back. Two steps. One blue eye opened, catching Dean. Her head had dropped to his neck and the bastard grinned. One step. Dean grabbed the door handle. Cas winked at him. Dean had no idea what kind of face he had just made but...what the fuck? 'What the fuck was that? He's makin' out with some bitch and fucking winked at me!' Dean slid his zipper down, frowning at the bizarre moment. 'What the fuck was that? Did he wink? He definitely winked. What the fuck did that mean? Who does that? What the hell!' Dean washed his hands mechanically and hesitated to open the door. Would they still be there? 'Then don't fucking look at them.'
Dean wrenched the door open. The hall was empty. Like it had been an illusion. Dean headed back to the table, trying to shake his daze.
The group broke up shortly after that, heading home for the night. Charlie followed Dean to his car.
"Hey, you okay?" She asked.
"Yeah. You?" He said.
"Fine. Don't tell me. Something is bugging you. You know you can talk to me. Right?"
"Of course, Charlie."
She nodded, walking backwards a few steps, then turning to walk to her own car.
He needed to get a grip. People were noticing.
Wednesday evening, Dean was under his car, wiping out the wheel wells. He was avoiding the Roadhouse and had his baby shining to parade standards. His hands itched to fix something. He only wished he could reach in and fix his own head.
A car pulled in. The soft whiz of a foreign tiny car told him it was probably Charlie. She usually did not come to his house. It was a big deal for officers and enlisted to fraternize. They always had PT drill excuses or op planning as a back-up reason for him being at her house. But they weren't due for field duty for another week.
A pair of boots stopped beside him. Shit. Someone in uniform. Dean scooted out, hopping to his feet.
"Jeez, Charlie, ya scared me," Dean said, his words drying in his mouth at the stoney look on her face. Something was wrong. He turned toward his front door, her following him silently. With the front door shut. He turned back to her.
"Charlie?" He said gently.
Her face crumpled, her hands darting up to cover her face.
He reacted automatically, hugging her to him. She shook and cried.
"Charlie, please tell me what happened," Dean coaxed gently, smoothing a hand down her flame red hair. Her arms came away from her face and wrapped tightly around him. Her head lay heavy on his chest, soaking tears into his grey t-shirt.
Never in the time he had known Charlie had he ever seen her cry. It could only be Dorothy. She had no family. And she was a top notch officer, aside from her fraternizing with lower rank and enlisted. Her sobs slowed down and he just held her tight. Actually touching someone felt so good. It had been a very long time since he had held anyone. Even if it was as a friend.
"Come on, Charlie, breathe. Tell me what happened."
She took a shaky breath and pulled back, wiping her face.
"I just came from DOMA. Dorothy and I can't get married. And they threatened to court marshal both of us for fraternizing."
"Damn it," Dean swore, pacing away from her.
"Dorothy is moving out." New tears trailed down her cheeks and she slid down the wall, sitting defeated in his hallway. She looked so tiny. He wanted to crush everyone at DOMA. Fucking bastards.
Dean knelt in front of her, squeezing her shoulders and making her look at him. "Charlie, Dorothy loves you. She's moving out to keep you safe."
"I'm not re-upping," she said bitterly.
"Then that's our country's loss, Charlie. Because you are brilliant."
"Damn right, I am."
Seeing she was gaining her composure, Dean slid over next to her, heads tipped back onto the wall, knees bent, they sat silently. He generally sucked at chick-flick moments, but Charlie was like his sister. He would do anything for her.
"So...can I tell ya something weird?" Dean ventured, knowing there was nothing he could fix at the moment for Charlie, so might as well share a shitfest.
"Please," she smiled, her head dropping onto his shoulder.
"Last week at the Roadhouse...I accidentally walked up on Novak makin' out with some chick."
"Yeah?" Charlie said, lifting her head and sniffing.
"He...looked at me...and smiled..."
"While kissing a girl?"
"And winked."
Charlie's brow knitted comically and her eyes bulged. "What the fuck is that?"
"Right!" Dean practically exploded. "What the fuck was that? Why would you do that?"
"Well... I guess I would do it if I liked someone. But not while kissing someone else. That's..."
"Right!" Dean filled in the silence. It's weird, creepy, hot, ...wait.
"Have you talked to him before?" Charlie asked, watching him closely.
"Not really."
"Do you...like him?" Charlie asked.
"No!" Dean snapped. "It was weird okay? It freaked me out!"
"Well, maybe he likes you."
"Charlie, he's a Ranger!"
"Oh, well I know women can't be Rangers so I guess you're saying gays can't be Rangers either?" A sharp tone had slid into her voice and Dean bit his lip.
"I don't think the guy could be...gay."
"Why not?"
"He's too...I don't know!"
"So, you don't know. Look, the guy is known for being silent. He's a freakin rock. Maybe he was stoned. Or drunk."
"I don't think so," Dean said, remembering the clear blue eyes.
"Well maybe he's a creeper," Charlie sighed.
"Maybe."
"All I know is, he's freakin hot. So that was one lucky chick."
"Yeah."
Charlie snickered.
"Wait-" Dean reviewed what was just said and shut his eyes.
"It's okay. I knew."
"You knew what?" Dean asked coldly, not looking at Charlie.
"That you like Captain Cas Novak. Sorry, but I know you too well."
Dean stood up and paced the hall and into his living room.
"What makes you say that?" Dean asked tightly.
"Umm...okay, so I saw him checking you out first. At the Roadhouse awhile back. Then I saw you talk to him at the bar that one time."
"If you saw, I mean, if you thought that, maybe others thought that," Dean murmured.
"Well, I'd drop the whole thing if I were you. He's an officer, Dean. A Ranger. And he's...intense. Not your thing."
"I can do intense," Dean defended.
Charlie smiled devilishly. "So you do really like him!"
"Uhhgg," Dean growled. "Whatever."
"He is hot." Charlie beamed.
"He's an officer."
"Have you...ever been with a guy?" Charlie asked, way to interested.
"No!" Dean snapped, glaring at her. She shrugged. He took in her small frame in that uniform. He was usually always proud when he saw uniforms. But he was disgusted with DOMA. For her. He sighed. "Okay, once. I had a thing..."
"A thing?" Charlie pressed, getting to her feet and following him into the living room.
"Yeah. I was 16. It lasted a few months and then my dad busted me. Beat the shit out of me."
Charlie nodded. "Sorry."
Dean shrugged.
"I'd like to tell you it will be okay. But as long as the Army owns you, it's not. Not really."
Dean nodded. He walked over, hugging Charlie again. "I want to tell you the same thing, Charlie. But you're right. Sorry."
Dean drug himself through Thursday. Friday night he stayed home, playing Charlie on his PS.
Saturday night he had promised Jason an encore. He hoped Cas just wasn't there. There had to be other places to get a damn drink.
He unloaded his guitar and went for a Jack and Coke. While sitting at the bar, he saw Cas through the crowd. For once, he turned the opposite direction, choosing to shut any potential awkwardness out.
Tonight he started with Jason, Chuck, and Gabe. Dean had never played with Gabe before, but found him to be his usual relaxed self. Dean sang the first song, one he and Jason had worked hard on over the winter. It was low and powerful. Dean cleared his thoughts and just let himself go with the music.
'One shot and the whiskey goes down, down, down,
Bottom of the bottle hits,
Waking up my mind is a ball of fit,
The breaking is taking me down, down, down,'
His eyes locked. It was magnetic. Completely out of his control. Cas was watching him with an intense expression. His eyes never wavered and Dean had to rip himself away.
'My heart's beating faster, I know what I'm after.
I've been standing here my whole life
Everything I've seen twice
Now it's time I realize
It's spinnin back around now
On this rope I'm crawlin'
Save me 'cause I'm fallin'
Now I can't seem to breath right
'Cause I keep runnin', runnin', runnin'!'
Close to the end of the song, Dean noticed Cas was actually leaning forward in concentration.
Jason took over the next song and Dean headed for the small hallway. He put his guitar in the case and sighed heavily as he clamped it shut. He slid the guitar over his back and headed out.
Two steps out the door into the crowded hall, Dean hesitated. Cas was standing there. As soon as he saw Dean, he sprang to life, making his way toward him.
'Oh fuck.'
"Hello, Dean," he said stopping just in front of him, eyes intense as ever.
"Uh, hi." Dean had no idea even how to address him. Cas? Castiel? Captain? Shit.
A small smile smirked on the side of his mouth. "You can call me Cas."
'It's like he can read my mind. Jesus.'
"Nice job. With the song."
Dean hefted the guitar slightly, glancing around nervously. 'His voice is like gravel. Why does that turn me on?'
"Uh, thanks."
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Gabe says you work on older cars. On your own time. I was wondering if you could look at a '69 mustang for me."
Cars. He's talkin about cars. Dean's shoulders relaxed a bit. "Yeah. Sure."
Cas nodded, looking down. "I have one at my place if you could stop over sometime this week and check it out."
'His place. On an evening. Shit. This was a bad, bad idea.' He took a steadying breath. "Anytime," he heard himself say.
Cas nodded. He pulled his cell phone out and raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, yeah," Dean stammered, giving him his cell phone number.
"I'm free tomorrow afternoon, if that works for you."
"Sure," Dean said, feeling sweat bead on his forehead. 'Okay, not evening. Afternoon. Afternoons weren't for dates. They were for...anything!'
"I'll text you."
"Yeah. That's fine." Dean shrugged, nonchalantly, he hoped.
Cas grinned softly, turned and weaved his way out of the busy hallway.
Dean took a deep breath. 'Closer up he's even hotter. Oh, shit. This is such a bad idea.'
He left, driving home with a wide eyed stare the whole way.
The next day he woke with a nagging headache from the jack and Cokes he had to shut his head up to fall asleep.
He ate breakfast and went for a run. He circled Stewart Field 4 times and then headed home. In the shower, his phone buzzed. He snatched it off the shelf and saw an unknown number.
-this is Cas Novak. We spoke yesterday. I will be home at 1100.
Dean blinked at it.
His address came next. That was it.
Dean- ok. I'll be there.
He sat the phone back down and stared at his shower wall. The guy had a mixed up system of sending messages. 'Is he flirting? It almost feels like a test. Or orders.'
Dean rinsed off and got out of the shower. He was almost tempted to put his digies on. But he put on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. He grabbed some tools and headed over.
His house was one of the nice officer houses. He had a garage and was on a cul-de-sac.
He pulled onto the bottom of the driveway and headed for the front door. Cas opened it before he got there, coffee cup in hand. He was wearing running shorts and a sweaty t-shirt.
"Morning," Dean said cheerfully.
"Morning," Cas greeted. "Coffee?"
"Sure." Dean followed him inside. Charlie would have gotten a kick out of the obvious bachelor-ness of the house. Simple furnishings, blank walls, big TV and comfortable couch and chair.
"Hey there, Dean-o," Gabe said as he rounded the corner into the kitchen.
"Sir," Dean stammered slightly.
Gabe waved him off. "Sorry to third-wheel your little...get together."
Dean's eyes darted to Cas.
"Knock it off, Gabe. Can you not see he's nervous as it is."
Gabe fixed Dean with a grin. "My bad."
Dean took the coffee Cas offered. The fact that Castiel knew he was nervous sucked. But he should have known better. The guy was a Human Intelligence Collector. Dean might as well be wearing a running ticker-tape of emotions across his forehead.
"Sugar?" Gabe offered. "You're supposed to offer people things to put in their coffee, Cassie."
"Shut up, Gabe. He drinks it black." Cas turned a softer look onto Dean. "Right?"
"Yeah," Dean said, taking a sip. 'What the fuck am I doin here?'
"Follow me," Cas said, Gabe standing as well. Dean followed the pair through the kitchen and out into the garage. A cleanly kept garage was lit well and held an old 80's KC Jeep, a covered motorcycle and a black '69 Mustang. The tires all looked bad. It was dusty. It had not moved in a long time. But it definitely had not sat here all that time.
"Where'd ya get it?" Dean asked, sipping his coffee and circling the neglected beauty.
"I have to leave at 1400. Can you have it fixed by then?" Cas asked.
Dean raised his eyebrows. He sat his mug on a workbench and lifted the hood.
There was enough shit wrong with this car to work on for weeks. He looked at Cas. "What's goin on?"
"I need this car ready to go at 1400. Drivable. Not pretty."
"Driving how far?"
"Twenty miles."
Dean furrowed his brow. Cas' look was firm, but not an outright order. He glanced at Gabe. He wasn't smiling either, but he was watching Dean. He got the distinct feeling there was something going on here. But a Major and a Captain were asking him to get something damn-near impossible done.
"Yeah. I brought some tools."
"I have tools," Cas said, pointing at his workbench and wall.
Dean nodded. They exchanged a stare, asking and unwilling to answer silent questions between them.
Dean bit his bottom lip, hands on his hips, looking between the pair.
For three hours Dean worked his ass off to change three parts, change the oil and fix the clutch box.
At 1345, he closed the hood. He was hot, sweaty, greasy, and felt like he had just taken a shop final. "The tires are fer shit. But they'll hold for twenty miles."
While he had worked, Gabe drifted in and out. Cas stayed, helping to hold something or hand him a tool. But the job was done. A weird ass job.
"That was impressive," Gabe said, listening to the engine run.
Dean shut it off and got out, closing the door.
"Mind telling me what I just did here?" Dean asked, wiping his forehead with the bottom of his shirt.
"Fixing a car for me," Cas said lightly, handing him a beer.
Dean held his gaze slightly. Now he was the one not smiling while the pair of them beamed approvingly.
"Well, we gotta hit the road Dean," Gabe said.
Dean gulped the cold beer and handed the empty bottle back to Cas.
"Alright," he shrugged. He obviously wasn't getting any more information from them.
Cas opened the garage door and Dean headed out to his car.
Neither walked out with him, and they both got in the mustang and started it. Dean drove away feeling totally used and disgruntled. So not what he had had in mind for the day.