The week in Mazatlan became more and more humid. The waiting was a pain. Zachariah was becoming more and more temperamental. The phone calls back to the states were often so loud that they could be heard even outside of the motel. Dean lounged out by the pool, a Corona parked on the little metal table by his side. He was making a conscious effort to not get too dark. He wasn't sure how that would work with Zachariah's plans. He rolled over onto his back and reached over for his beer. He took a long pull on the bottle and lazily set it back when he was done. The sun on the water was blindingly bright. The day was going to drag out long and languid in front of him. He had been alone by the pool for the better part of the morning. As the heat rose though, others managed to drag themselves out to the poolside.
He had been zoning out when he heard the sharp scrape of a lounger being drug over to his side. "Hey, Cas." Dean tipped a nod his way.
"Hey, Dean." Cas spread a long white towel over the lounger and then plopped himself down on top of it. He wore a set of swim trunks, red like a fire engine. He had some wayfarers planted on his face. They were so dark that his eyes were completely obscured. He smiled though, and even without the eyes being visible, he looked quite pleased with the day.
"How's your day going?"
"Can't complain. I might get fired when they hire a new lead, seeing as I won't likely match the build and look. I can't complain though. I got a free vacation out of the deal." A waitress sauntered by and Cas gave her a wave. "Could I trouble you for a beer?"
"Of course." She jotted down the order on a little slip of paper sitting on her tray. "You want to charge it to your room?"
"Yeah, Room 452." He threw her a full smile and she left a little lighter than she had arrived.
"It's too bad about you maybe getting fired." Dean said as he watched the scene in front of him. He was already trying to think of a solution. He didn't like seeing anyone get shafted. "Maybe you should try out for the part." It was a dumb suggestion. Zachariah wasn't going to hire a green actor for a major role.
"I don't think that is an option." He turned to Dean a little more though. "I appreciate the vote of confidence though. I can't imagine that it is reasonable to assume that I would be what Zachariah is looking for."
"It's possible that he is just looking for a warm body right now. I heard that he is losing $10,000 a day just sitting here. That's going to kill this project in less than a month if he doesn't come up with a fast solution." Dean let the idea kick around a bit in his head. Maybe it wasn't so far fetched to assume that Cas could do this. "You have any experience beyond stunt work?"
"Only some minor stuff. I was on a soap opera once."
"Oh, really? Which one?"
"Angeles de la Noche." The waitress returned with his beer and set it on the metal table next to Dean's drink. Cas signed off on the tab that she laid out for him.
"So, not an English language program then?"
"Nope, what gave it away." They both chuckled a little. "I may be a little popular around here. They killed my character off some time last year, but I've had a few people recognize me. A couple of people asked to take a picture with me. I actually felt like kind of a celebrity." Cas took a pull off of the bottle of beer and then cradled it on his thigh. "I never really found another role like it after. So, I do the stunt man thing. It pays the bills."
"I think that maybe we should ask Zachariah to consider this. I think that maybe he might actually go for it. Word has it that the execs back home might actually blame him for pissing off Cole. They might take him off of the whole project if he doesn't get to filming this thing."
Cas cocked his head to the side and looked at him. The moment stretched out into what should have been awkward, but kind of wasn't. "Hmm. Why are you pushing for this?" Cas didn't break the gaze as he asked.
Dean did though. He sat up a little more and adjusted the back of the lounger. He picked up the beer to have something to do with his hands. He considered his answer. Why was he pushing? Why did it matter at all? Not like he even really knew Cas. "I actually don't know. I guess that you seem kind of nice. Cole was an ass. I think that it would be nice to work with someone that is at least a little tolerable."
"So, I am a little tolerable then?" Cas let out a little chuckle.
"Well, you did try to get me out of the sludge while everyone else was content to just go about their business. I figure I owe you one." Dean took another gulp of the beer and swung his legs out to the side of the lounger to face Cas. He rested his arms on his legs and cupped the bottle with both hands in front of him.
"Hmm. I guess that it couldn't hurt to approach him. Do you have any pointers?" Cas swung his legs out to the side as well and fully faced Dean.
"Well, it probably wouldn't hurt to memorize the lines. He could see if you have talent. We could also run through a few scenes together and see if we mesh. I think that he is going to want to see how we play off of each other. Michael is supposed to hate Luc, and at the same time they have to seem like they have a bond too. You'll want to play Luc like he's evil and at the same time sympathetic. I think that I will have a much harder time playing Michael. He is supposed to be sympathetic, but he really just seems like kind of a dick." Dean was mapping it all out and finding it to be a tad cumbersome. It would take a bit of work to get Cas ready. What am I getting myself into?
Cas got up then. "I'm going to take a quick swim then. I have a feeling that we will need to get started on this right away if there is even a chance of convincing him." He took two short strides over to the pool and dove in. Dean watched his fluid movements beneath the water. He moved along the bottom of the pool in a straight line all the way to the midway point before he swooped up to the surface. His arms swept back to his sides as his face emerged from the water. He shook his head a little and began treading water for a moment. Then he stretched out and swam the rest of the pool's length on the surface. At the wall he dipped under and turned back to the start beneath the surface. He did not come back up until, once again, he was at the midpoint of the pool. Dean watched, mesmerized by the smoothness of his movements, the way that it all seemed choreographed.
He shook his head a little to clear his thoughts. Cas reached the wall and hoisted himself up onto the edge. He walked back over to the lounger and picked up the towel. He quickly ruffled up his hair and face with it then proceeded to dry his torso and legs. Dean watched while trying hard not to look like he was watching. He decided that words would help. "So, you want to do a read-through now?"
"I thought that was the plan." He grinned a little at Dean, and Dean chugged the last of his beer.
"Just making sure. I have the script in my room. We should probably go there." He got up then and picked up his towel from the edge of the lounger. He hadn't taken a swim, so he just tossed it over his shoulder to carry it back. Cas stepped away from the lounger and Dean walked past him to lead the way. Cas fell into step behind him. Dean's room was not far from Zachariah's room. As they passed it, they could hear the angry tone of Zachariah's voice piercing past the door. It sounded like another phone call. Dean had heard a fair bit of them each time that he passed the room on the way to the lobby. It had only been two days, but he had thought that things would have calmed a bit by now. They reached his room and he opened the door with his key. "Here it is." They stepped in and Dean let the door close behind them.
Dean did not share all of the details with Benny. He did not tell him how watching Cas in the pool stirred something in him. He did not tell him how he felt captivated by him. He certainly did not share with him the fact that things had irrevocably shifted for him that day. His existence seemed to come into focus. He had floated about before that. He had done what needed doing each day. He was content for the most part. He did not have attachments and did not believe in them. He was happy enough to just marry himself to the work. The job was rather all consuming. Then there was Cas, and he had just wanted to help him. Well, that is what he had told himself, but he certainly didn't go into all of that with Benny.
"So, how did it go with Zachariah? I have already chosen to imagine him acting like an enraged bull." Benny laughed at his vision.
"Oh, man, was he ever mad. I think that he said something along the lines of 'how dare you even think that I would consider hiring a stuntman for this.'" Cas almost walked out the moment that Zachariah said it, but then I opened my big flapper, and said, "Unless you want to figure out how to replace two actors, you might want to take a couple of your precious moments and listen to this guy audition."
"You don't say. Sounds like you had a lot to do with his success."
"Oh, no. He would have done fine even without me. I just helped him get his foot in the door. It was really all him. He made Zachariah see it. The potential and such was pretty obvious."
Benny flipped through his notepad and seemed to scan for something. "He did say once in an interview with Vanity Fair that if it weren't for you, that he would never have gone on in the acting field. He said that you were the entire reason for his success. And I quote, 'his role model,' end quote. How do you feel about that?" Benny flipped the notepad closed and slipped it back into his pocket.
Dean remembered when Cas had said it. It had been so long ago that he could almost rewrite the moment into something better, easier to swallow. As it was, it was not a pleasant memory. He thought about the words though and answered, "He always gave me too much credit. Cas was great, and it never seemed fair to me that he would take no credit for that. He always seemed to want the best for everyone around him. This meant that he would even throw all of his achievements at others as though they had been the ones to have earned them."
There was a low rumble of thunder that growled out around the house. He felt it shake the air around him. Dean got up and walked over to the window. The dark sky was cradling the world outside in an ominous embrace. Dean's eyes roamed over the driveway and he saw that the lower portion had washed away. Benny got up and joined him. "That doesn't look good."
"Nah, looks like you might be stuck here for a little longer than you anticipated." Benny just shrugged when Dean said that.
"I don't have anything better to do." Benny walked back over to the camera and switched it off. "Maybe we should take a little break for a spell. I think that I would like to talk some about how filming went and also about some of the later work that you did."
"Sounds fine by me. I would like to call Charlie and check up on her. A break would let me do that." He headed for the hall and turned at the door. "Feel free to make yourself comfortable." Benny fiddled around with the cameras and gave Dean a little nod that said sure.
Dean found himself dragging by the early evening. Calling Charlie seemed like the best way to get his focus back. Once he got to his room he dragged the phone over to the table by the window. His room had been a safe haven for many years. Its walls were painted a neutral bedding and accents were a sky blue. His far wall was more window than wall. In the center were two wide glass-paned doors that opened onto a wide veranda. In good weather, he would sit out there for hours with a good book. Today though, it was a wet mess and nearly entirely unappealing.
He sat down and dialed the number that she left for her hotel. He did not think that he would reach her on the first try, but maybe he could leave her a message. Three rings in and she answered. "Yeah." The quick informal greeting that he was use to popped through time and space to his ear.
"Charlie. I miss you already."
"Oh, Dean, you'll turn my head."
"You made it there safely then, I guess." He felt a type of relief settle on him. He had grown a little tense in her absence.
"Of course. I should have called you. Sorry. I just assumed that you would be busy with the interview. So, how'd it go?"
"It's still going. The driveway got washed out, just so you know." He huffed out the last in exasperation. The driveway had been a bit of a sticking point for them, but there was no sense dwelling on it.
"Oh, does that mean that Mr. Lafitte is stuck there?" There was a shift in Charlie's tone that Dean could not fully read. He wished that he could see her. He'd maybe be able to gauge the meaning behind her words.
"For now. I think that I will be able to get it cleared before the evening rolls in." He wondered if she could actually talk or if she was in a room full of people. Her tone didn't tell him enough. "So, do you have company?"
"Dorothy is in the room next door. We got adjoining rooms." She didn't go on for a moment then asked, "Are you okay? You sound upset."
"The interview is just…" He stuttered into silence then continued a moment later, "It's unsettling. I don't know that it was a good idea to dive so far into the past. I think that maybe I should have let those sleeping dogs lie." He thought about cutting the conversation short. It wasn't likely going to help, but this was Charlie, and he couldn't treat her like the others. So, instead, he let the silence stretch while he waited for her to speak.
When she finally spoke, she said, "Dean, you know I love you right?"
"I know." His response was quiet, to the point.
"You are family. I don't expect you to talk about stuff that you aren't ready to talk about. I especially don't expect you to share all your deep dark with Mr. Lafitte there. However, I do think that sometimes it is best to let the words out. It can be healing. You can do a lot of damage to yourself by just pushing all of that down all of the time." The silence stretched out again then she added, "If it gets to be too much, you can always go back to the notes. The story is the safe place. Just go with the stories that we created. Benny isn't family. You don't owe him your soul."
"I know, but I already shared a little. It's like a crack in the damn now. I can't seem to stop myself from spilling out more. I try to reign it in, and then he asks just the right question and…" He trailed off into silence again. "When are you coming home?"
"I can hop a plane tonight." She sounded like she was moving now, packing maybe. She was always quick to decide a thing.
He heard a muffled voice in the background. Dorothy. "No, don't come home. I just wanted to know when you were. Don't cut your trip short."
"I'm coming home, Dean. I shouldn't have left you yet. You weren't ready." She was still rummaging around. He could hear her.
"I said no, Charlie. Please." He could hear her stopping. The rustling of fabrics and the pulling of zippers stopped. "I'm fine. You know that I just miss you sometimes. I'll just go visit with Benny. Pass the time. Do the interview. I'm really fine." He painted his words with colorful tones. He was being careful not to be too flowery. She would know.
"You sure?" He knew that he was successful then.
"Yeah, I'm sure. You have fun. Come home with good stories of great adventures." He was still peppering his delivery with an upbeat tone.
"I'll be home at the end of the week. Be good." She still sounded concerned, but not enough to hop on a plane.
"You too." With that he hung up. That was close. He didn't want to take this time away from her. She deserved this break. She had put her life on hold for him. Pushing it down was the least he could do. So he pushed it down plenty. He wondered if he could drag out the little interview break for just a while longer. He wasn't ready to go back into it. He glanced over at the door. He imagined that he could see it pulsing inward as if some beast were threatening to break through it. He sucked in a breath and held it. He closed his eyes and imagined safe places, warm hands, and cool sea water eyes. He felt his body relax so he lingered here for a moment longer, lost in the world he was creating.
Eventually he had to return to the library. He dragged his body down the hall and through the heavy doors. Benny was not there. The cameras were off and the air felt dead. He walked back out and down to the end of the hall. He had a room that might be called a living room. It had a television and a few other items for recreation. There was a pool table and a tall built-in shelving unit full of VHS tapes and cassettes. Everything was meticulously organized. Benny was sitting on the couch in there watching the muted TV.
"It works better with sound," Dean said as he leaned into the door frame.
"Maybe. Sometimes I get tired of all of the talking." Benny reached over to the remote and handed it over to Dean. "You can change it or turn up the volume if you want." Dean just waved it away and sat down on the other end of the couch.
"I think that you might be stuck here for the night. I remembered on my way down that my handyman is out 'til tomorrow. I could call in a stranger, but I actually don't know where to begin looking for someone." Dean fiddled with the fringe on the velvety pillows that had been tossed to the center of the couch.
"I had a bag packed anyway. I had planned on staying in town at the Sheraton. Luckily, I hadn't dropped off my stuff yet." Benny turned off the TV and angled himself at Dean. "You sure you don't mind? I mean, I could probably take a shovel to the mess."
"Of course I don't mind. It's not your fault that the driveway got washed out. If we have to blame a person, I'd blame Charlie. Plus, we'll likely get through the interview faster this way."
"Okay. Uh, why are we blaming Charlie for the bad weather? Just curious."
"Oh, we aren't blaming her for the weather, just the driveway." Dean smiled a little at Benny's look.
"And, not to beat a dead horse, but why are we blaming Charlie?"
"I keep telling her that we need to divert the creek that runs alongside the property, but she keeps telling me that I can't." Dean shifted his tone into his best impression of a whiney school girl, "It's bad for the eco-system. You'll hurt the little buggies and critters that rely on that creek." He shifted back into his own voice then. "She's a tree hugger. I can't do anything around here that might alter the natural environment too much. The creek is a bit of sore spot between us. Truth be told, I shouldn't make such a big thing about it, but it is down right annoying when it takes out the driveway. One of these days, I'm just going to fix it."
"She'll just make you put it back." Benny smiled back.
"Why do you think that I haven't done it yet." They both laughed. Dean got up. "You want to get the grand tour? We could pick out a room for you. I have several guest rooms that are spacious and accommodating." Dean swept an arm out in front of himself and Benny got up to follow him.
"You this accommodating with all of the reporter you meet?" They fell into step side by side as they wandered down the hall. At the other end they turned and climbed the stairs.
"Nope. Most are kind of irritating. I do the interview and get the hell out of Dodge. I don't have people over here much. I'm sort of surprised actually that Charlie had you come here." They got to the top and Dean opened the first door on the right. They both stepped in.
"Well, I feel all kinds of honored then that you would agree to do this. I never expected you to be so easy going when I met you at the party."
Dean shifted about and then asked, "Did I say something awful or something? I don't really remember much of our conversation. I had quite a bit to drink."
Benny walked farther into the room and peered out the window. "Nothing troubling. You were just really serious. I think that you were sad. I didn't ask much. I was worried that you would tell me things that I couldn't write about, and that I would go mad over it."
"Hmm. That's comforting, I think. At least I wasn't awful." Dean pushed his hands into his pockets and said, "So, this is the first guest room. I don't know that I recommend it though. Unless of course you like being close to the stairs, it really has nothing going for it. You don't even get an attached bathroom."
"Oh, so why show me it? I am way too spoiled to not have my own private privvy." He laughed at Dean and they walked back out to the hall. A few paces down and Dean opened a door on the right. This room was much more spacious. It had high ceilings and a bathroom off to the side. The window was tall like the one in Dean's room with a small door off to the side of it.
"The door takes you out onto the veranda. My room is similar."
"This should do fine." Benny walked over to the window and looked out. "The view is great."
"Yeah, even with the rain, it is gorgeous." They stood there for a few awkward seconds. "So, uh, do you want to see the rest of the space? You can say no, if you are tired or whatnot."
"Oh, totally. I'm rather curious. Dean Winchester in his natural habitat."
"Ha, that should be your opener."
They made their way back out into the hall and Benny turned back for a moment. "What's in those rooms?" There were two rooms that they skipped past. Both were on the right.
"Nothing worth looking at." Dean kept walking forward toward his end of the hall.
"You know that you just made me want to go look in those two rooms, right?"
"Well, those ones are off-limits. Sorry. Man's gotta have some privacy." Dean tried to sound light. His tone though, had obviously changed.
"Oh, that must be where you keep the secret porn stash, huh?"
"Ah, you caught me. And here I thought that I had been so good at my little deception."
"Yep, there is a new opener forming in my head now. Dean Winchester, America's heartthrob, Secret porn hoarder."
"Thanks, Benny. Looking forward to seeing the fallout from this interview." He opened the door to his room and waved Benny in. "This is my room."
"Nice bachelor pad."
"Hmm. I'm not sure that that is the best description." Dean felt a nervous little knot in his gut. What made Benny call it that?
"Really? Who did your decorating?"
"Me."
"Hmm. So, bachelor pad." Benny smiled. It seemed like it was meant to be disarming. It did not disarm Dean. He didn't know what to say though.
"I wonder what Charlie would have to say to your pronouncement." Dean took this path. He hoped that it was the right move. He could have ignored it, and plowed into a different path, but he didn't like the implication that came with accepting Benny's label. It was important that a certain image was maintained.
"I imagine that she would agree with me. Her room looked nothing like this." Benny walked around the room and he picked up little things here and there just to put them back down. He lifted Dean's book off of the nightstand and then pointedly walked over to the other nightstand that was barren and had been for some time. He ran his fingers across it.
Dean felt a slow boiling anger as Benny moved along the speculative path. "What are you implying?"
"That this is not Charlie's room. It is your room." Benny said it directly, no pause to show any contemplation. He looked over at Dean. He seemed to be waiting for an acknowledgement that Dean was unwilling to give.
"She has her own space, but this is our room." Dean continued to press the point, the lie.
"I see no evidence of that, but if you say so." Benny shrugged and walked away from the bedside as if he were ready to leave.
Dean stalked over to the closet and threw open the doors. It was a massive space. A full walk-in closet that contained all of his clothes neatly pressed and hung on one side. On the other were Charlie's dresses. Each and every evening gown was carefully hung on the opposite side from Dean's clothes. The dress from the most recent award's ceremony was at the edge nearest the door. Dean gesticulated at the clothes and said, "Evidence enough for you?"
Benny walked over and took a quick look into the closet before Dean slammed the door shut. "She has a lot of formal wear, huh?"
"Yeah, she does." Dean didn't see the point of the question.
"Hmm. It's nice of you to let her store it in here. I imagine that you don't need both halves of the closet." Benny turned back to the door.
Dean felt the irritation rising again. He pushed it down though. Where does he get off? Why am I getting so mad? She doesn't sleep in here. He stared at Benny as he came to a stop at the door. He did not want to go back to the interview. He was done. I've given him enough. "I think that I am going to call it an early night. I feel as though, maybe we are done with the interview."
Benny turned back to him. "Do you mean just for the night, or that you are done, done?"
"Done, done." Dean turned his back on him and added, "Feel free to utilize the guest room and to get whatever food you need. You can see yourself out tomorrow when the driveway is cleared." He turned back then and continued, "Also, I would appreciate it if you did not go poking your head into rooms that you have no business visiting."
Benny looked apologetic. "Look, Dean, I'm sorry. I just say what I'm thinking sometimes. I just…"
Dean cut him off, "Goodnight, Benny." He turned away again and heard the door close as Benny exited. He looked down at his hands and saw that they were shaking. He folded them together and walked over to the window. He watched the lightning flash out in the distance. The crisp stab of light jarred him from his anger. He sank into the seat near the window and tried to pull himself together. It doesn't matter if he knows. It doesn't matter if any of them know. Nothing matters anymore. He pressed his head into his hands and closed his eyes.
The set of the Righteous Man film should have sent him into a tailspin of depression. The days had been long and Zachariah was demanding in every way. He had hired on Cas, but he made it abundantly clear that it was against his better judgement. Their first scene together had been a fight scene, the very scene that Cole had walked out on just days before. Everyone seemed impressed by Cas skills. Dean found him easy to work with and a nice change from the people he usually had to contend with.
They had spent some evenings blocking out the fight scene before it was actually filmed. So when Zachariah called action the scene was captured in just a couple of takes. Despite this, though, he should have been miserable. Zachariah, yelled at him, tormented him, threw a giant wad of gunk at his head after a particularly tough scene, and yet Dean found that on most days he was grinning from ear to ear.
After a particularly long day filled with running through hilly jungles semi-created by the set design team, Dean and the rest of the crew were released with Zachariah's grand pronouncement, "Since you really threw yourselves into this, I am giving you all the night off. I don't need to see any of you on set before 11:00 am tomorrow. Eat, sleep, and be merry, kiddies." His smile was smug, but Dean felt like letting out a little cheer. Finally, a break.
Cas was over at the food service truck, talking with a girl about something that made her laugh. Dean let himself watch. Cas was wearing his film clothes, a black tee and khaki pants. He had a gun holster slung low over his hips and a prop pack of cigarettes rolled up in his sleeve. The girl leaned into him and whispered something in his ear. Her eyes rolled past him as she spoke and fell on Dean. He did not look away. The girl continued to whisper, then Cas scooped her up and spun them both around so that he was facing Dean.
His lip curled up at the edge. He gave Dean a little nod. The girl wrapped her arms around him a little. Cas let her. He kept watching Dean though. Dean kept watching him too. He felt weird about it after a few moments had passed. He walked off, away from the rest of the crew and out toward the nearby beach. They had roped it off, so it was rather deserted. They were also a ways away from the touristy areas that people tended to frequent when visiting the city. He kicked at the sand and decided to take off his shoes, feel the sand in his toes. He sat down and started plucking at his laces when a body crumpled down at his side. It was Cas.
"Going for a swim?" Cas asked him as he started taking off his own shoes.
"Uh, no. I didn't bring a suit out here."
"You don't need one."
"Oh really? I think that maybe you might be wrong about that."
"Really?" Cas sounded like he was joking.
"Uh, yeah, really. Plus, I'm not willing to give them all of this vista for free." Dean stood up then and did a little spin while casually running his arms down his torso. Cas laughed at him. "Actually, I just planned to walk on the beach without my shoes. Thought that I might like to feel the sand a bit."
Cas finished popping off his own shoes and stood beside Dean. "Mind if I join you?" They fell into step together, leaving their shoes behind to be collected later.
"Not at all. What happened to your friend?" Cas gave him a look that said something, but Dean decided not to think about it too much.
"I blew her off." They walked together along the sand just past the line where the water met the dryness.
"I think that you may have missed an opportunity there." Dean reached over a hand to the small of his back. "Maybe it's not too late. You should maybe go back."
"Not interested."
"Hmm. You certainly seemed to be a few minutes ago." Dean wasn't sure why he was being so pushy. It just seemed to be happening.
Cas didn't seem to mind too much. He did ask though, "Why are you so interested in her? Do you want me to introduce you?"
"Uh, no.' Dean didn't know what to say to that.
"Then what's up?"
"Just making conversation, Cas. It's what people do."
"Oh."
So, Cas is basically failing at communication, but good god he is not failing at anything else. Cas' physique was showcased well with the outfit that he was wearing. The sleeves were just high enough to show the muscles that seemed to be sculpted into lines of perfection. His body moved alongside Dean's like it was being pulled along by a melody. He had a certain grace that seemed to guide each step. Dean found himself glancing to his side repeatedly as they walked. He had let his hand fall back to his own space. There was really no reason to keep it at Cas' back. They were close to each other, though, close enough that their bodies brushed against each other with each step.
"So, are you happy with how the job is going?" Dean wanted to get Cas talking. They hadn't gotten to just talk much. It had all been meet-ups with a purpose. The practicing of the lines and the blocking of the scene that they did for the impromptu audition hardly counted as getting to know you activities. And Dean wanted to know Cas. Something in the way that he looked at Dean or at anything for that matter, was like he was seeing something for the first time, or maybe like he was seeing something deeper, and it made Dean want to get into his head, learn him a little.
"I am happy enough. I am worried that I am not doing a very good job." He looked out ahead of their path while he answered, so Dean could not really read him as he said it.
"You're doing great. I've worked with a few people that were new to the whole acting thing, and you aren't like them. You are a natural. Plus, you are really easy to anticipate. I don't know what it is, but I feel like I have a sense of how you are going to move in a scene, where you are going, and how you'll be when you get there." Dean noticed that Cas was looking at him while they walked, while he spoke. He added, "I hope that didn't sound weird."
"Comforting actually." Cas looked back at the path again.
"How so?"
"I felt the same way. I thought that I was just weird." He sighed and pushed his hands into his pockets. "What made you decide to help me?" He stopped walking and Dean came to a halt beside him. They had walked a ways from everyone. It was actually rather deserted where they stood.
"I thought that you were interesting."
"I'm sure that you meet plenty of interesting people. What made you decide that I was interesting enough to get so much attention?" Cas turned to him more and Dean stood facing him.
"I guess that it was because you said that you would be fired. I kind of felt irritated by that. I mean, you seemed interesting, but I would never know much about you if you really got fired. Seemed kind of like a problem that I could fix." Dean started digging his toes into the sand. The little grains were warm between his toes. He stared at them intently, willing them to bury more of his foot. He didn't know why he had shared so much. He didn't usually share so much. He was a quiet man in most circumstances. He liked that he had a private life and a public persona that were completely separate. He wanted to let Cas in though. He wanted to confide and be free. It was nice to think that it could be possible to just be a little free.
Cas started digging his toes in the sand in front of Dean. Dean could feel them wriggling about toward his beneath the sand. He looked up at Cas and smiled a little. It was sort of an involuntary bit of sharing that his face was doing. He tried to push it back, but Cas had already seen the look and reciprocated. Dean felt his knees shake a little with the look, so he decided to sit down, right then and there. Cas joined him, with his back to the ocean, feet still planted in front of Dean's. "I guess that we are done walking."
"I guess so." Dean was still smiling. What the Hell is going on? He focused on his feet again as he burrowed into the sand some more. His hands were resting at his sides, palms flat on the sand. He started picking up little handfuls of sand that he lifted only to let it pour from his fingertips. "So, where will you go when the film is done?"
"What do you mean?" Cas was drawing little designs into the sand, then smoothing the images away with his hand only to start again.
"I mean, where do you live when you are not on set?" Dean watched Cas as he answered. His lips curled up a little on one side like he couldn't keep committing to whole smiles. His eyes were what really got to Dean. They seemed to look right through him, like Cas was seeing his soul or something. He decided that he liked that. He liked that maybe Cas could really see him.
"I live in California most of the time. I like to travel." Cas' toes made contact with Dean's just under the sand. The air was not as humid as it had been in the early hours. The sun was setting just behind Cas, and Dean liked the way that the sky seemed to be bursts of reds and oranges. It was a fire behind Cas and it reminded Dean of the warmth that he had been feeling since earlier that day when Cas had thrown him to the ground in one swift move. It was just for a fight sequence that they were filming, but it had been expertly handled. Dean had been expertly handled, and Dean appreciated dealing with people that knew what they were doing and had respect for the craft.
"I live in California too. Southern or Northern?" Dean wiggled his toes against Cas' and smiled as Cas did the same.
"Southern, but only because I need to be close to the work. What about you?"
"Southern too. I have a small place over in Orange County. It's temporary, though. I need to find a place that is farther away from Hollywood and such."
"I managed that. I live out in Riverside County. It's a little bit of a schlep, but well worth it at the end of the day." Cas scooped sand up in his palm and poured it over their feet in a long beige stream.
"I might have to check that region out. I have to admit, I don't venture out to the east much."
"It's nice there if you like a more arid landscape. I like that there are areas that are less crowded." Cas kept scooping and pouring the sand and a respectable mound was forming.
Dean wiggled his feet a little and the sand mound dissipated a little. "I heard there's a lot of crime there."
"People in Orange County would focus on that. It's no worse than anywhere else. Well, maybe it is a little. It isn't a wealthy area, but I'm not going to hate a place just because some of the residents are poor and such."
Dean shifted a bit. He worried that he had offended him by raising a minor point about his neighborhood. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything."
"I'm not offended. It's just that people tend to focus on a lot of negatives when they talk about my neighborhood. It shouldn't bother me, but it does, because I think that they are really just judging the color of my neighborhood, and not the neighborhood as a whole. I chose the place, because I didn't want to live in some cookie cutter, white bread suburb." Cas got up a little but only enough to move over to Dean's side. Now they both faced the ocean and the fading sunset.
"Maybe when I get back, you can show me the neighborhood. I really do want to move to someplace better." Dean shifted a bit, his hand rested alongside Cas'. A small part of him wanted to take his hand, but he didn't know why. He just liked the idea of of being grounded with someone in this moment. Cas felt like he would provide that.
Cas reached up to his shoulder and rested his hand there for a second, thus cutting off Dean's desire to take his hand. Now he just wanted to keep from moving too much. He didn't want to make the contact end. Cas spoke then, "You like desert landscapes?"
"Yeah. I like the emptiness." Dean answered quietly.
"Well, my neighborhood isn't exactly in the desert, but I found this house a couple of months back that is a little removed from things. The land around it is sand and sagebrush. It is gorgeous. I wanted to go to the open house and walk through it, but I couldn't think of an excuse to do it. I mean I wasn't in the market for a purchase like that." He let his hand slip off of Dean's shoulder and back to the sand between them. "You could give me an excuse to go look at it."
"Sounds like a solid plan. Count me in." Dean pushed sand over Cas' feet at his side. Cas pushed sand over Dean's hand. It was a way of touching that could be excused. It was warmth and yet it was just sand and deniability.
"Of course, I'm assuming that the house will still be on the market when we get back. We're going to be here for like four months, so anything can happen in that amount of time." There was something in the tone of Cas' words that made Dean look at him a little more deeply. He leaned forward a little unconsciously to take in his face. Cas turned to him a little too.
He was thinking of doing something stupid. He licked his lips a little just thinking about it. Dean thought that it might be okay. He was certainly getting a vibe. He had to be careful though. His buddy Aaron lost his job for doing something stupid, and the industry had a long memory for certain things. Maybe I can be careful and stupid at the same time. He watched Cas out of the corner of his eyes. They had dropped into silence. He felt his shoulders tensing up with each moment that he spent planning his next move.
The tension was getting to be a bit much. He decided to break the silence, "Kinda nice that Zachariah is giving us a late start tomorrow."
"He's probably just doing it to justify keeping us on set until some ungodly hour tomorrow." It certainly hadn't taken Cas long to get a read on Zachariah.
"Yeah, you may be right there. It's probably the first sign of the apocalypse." Dean grinned a little and added, "So, last night of freedom before Zack really starts kicking our asses, got any plans tonight?"
"Not really. I might just go back to my room and stare at the walls."
"Wow, you're a real fun guy, Cas." Dean chuckled a little.
"Well, what are you going to do?"
"Not sure, but alcohol will be involved." Dean got up then, "You should come with."
"I'll have to check my schedule." Dean reached down to him to help him up.
"You do that." He pulled Cas up a little too hard, and he fell forward a little into Dean's chest. Out of the corner of his eyes he caught a movement. Someone was heading toward them. He stepped back, releasing Cas from his grasp.
"Hey, Meg." Cas called out to her. Meg was in charge of wardrobe. She did not look pleased.
She walked right up to them with purpose. Her deep chestnut brown hair blowing about with the sea breeze that was kicking up. "Why do you both hate me? Seriously, why do you hate me."
"Uh, we don't." Dean turned to Cas a little then back to Meg.
"How often does Zachariah go easy on his crew? Seriously? I mean, you don't know, because you haven't done a film with him, but seriously, this is like a miracle, getting a whole night off and a late call back time." Her hands were flailing about a little as she spoke.
"Why are you upset?" Cas interrupted her diatribe.
"Just look at you. You've got sand all over the khakis. The cigarettes are even mashed up in your sleeve. They're supposed to look crisp tomorrow. Plus, you both go wandering off, making me wait. You know I can't leave here while you're off running around in my clothes." She trailed off a little at the end and Dean and Cas both looked a little apologetic.
"Sorry, Meg. I didn't realize." Cas started making his way past her, back to the set.
Dean just stood there for a second. Then Meg raised an eyebrow to him and said, "You too, Winchester. Get a move on."
"Oh, sorry Meg. Won't happen again." He jogged a little to catch up with Cas. He glanced over at him as he fell into step at his side. He caught the look on his face, a little sheepish, but it was there none the less. A small upturn of the lips. "Guess we gotta make sure not to piss Meg off in the future."
"Might as well start making up to her now." Cas slowed up and turned, walking backwards as he did so. "Hey, Meg. You should go out drinking with us."
That had not been part of Dean's plan, but he could roll with it. "Yeah, blow off the work 'til tomorrow." Dean tossed back to her.
"A few of us were planning to hit the bars downtown. You all gonna do the same?" She asked.
"That's the plan," Dean replied.
"Then let's see how big we can make this group." She laughed and picked up the pace until she was wedged between them. Cas turned back around. "Don't think this gets you both off my shit list. I require tequila from both of you before either of you get forgiveness." They laughed at her and Cas wrapped an arm around her waist.
"You got it," Cas said. Dean looked away and pushed aside the little bit of jealousy that swirled up and through him.
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AN: So, here is the next crazy long installment. Each chunk will be like this, though. Thanks all for the early encouragement. Hope you all like this bit too.