Heaven On Earth

Heaven On Earth is a classic, five-star, family run restaurant that caters to the rich and famous. However, the restaurant is not what we're here for. In fact, our story begins with the very people who make Heaven On Earth a possibility. The Novak family, the owners of Heaven On Earth, are dysfunctional enough as it was, but with the addition of two new attractive waiters, the Winchester brothers, their regular crazy becomes downright insane. With the head pastry chef vying for the attention of the younger Winchester and the head waiter falling for the elder, not to mention the longstanding feud between the head chef and sous chef, and throw in the continuous battle with the Health Inspector who was hell-bent on having the restaurant put out of business, it was a huge wonder the restaurant still made it to People Magazine's Top 5 Best Restaurants in the Country.

DISCLAIMER: I checked. I still do not own these lovely characters.


Chapter 3 – The One With The Health Inspector

When Luke was born, Michael was beside himself with glee. He became the ultimate big brother, vowing at four years old that he will protect Luke come what may. He took that vow seriously as they were growing up. Michael adored Luke, doted on him constantly, and Luke preened as Michael's attention was lavished upon him. Chuck's never seen that kind of brotherly love before. And for a long time, he never did. Raphael never received the same kind of attention from Michael. Neither did Gabriel nor Castiel. Michael payed attention to them, sure, as part of his big brother responsibilities, but most of his attention was centered on Luke who really, really wasn't complaining.

Well, until Michael left for college.

Luke was just entering high school when Michael packed his bags and headed for Culinary School in Bumfuck, Nowhere, USA. (Okay, New York, but Luke felt that it was an eternity and a day away.)

High school was a nightmare for Luke who just turned fourteen and started experiencing puberty. He got facial acne to a horrendous degree that people picked on him for it. What's worse was that he didn't have the cool older brother to look out for him. Raphael was only eleven at the time, Gabriel was nine and Castiel, the surprise child, was only two and Luke had absolutely no idea how to be a big brother to them. He talked to Michael who was practically on the other side of the world, accessible only through e-mail and phone. For a year, Luke religiously called Michael but contact slowly dwindled and out of the blue, Luke abruptly stopped calling. Michael tried to reinstate contact but Luke went as far as changing his number so that Michael would stop calling. In a way, Luke blamed Michael for leaving him to the dogs. Michael couldn't protect him all the way from New York. From Luke's persepective, Michael left him to fend for himself. Luke hated that. He started becoming aggressive, dark and started having more mood swings than a pregnant woman. His "difficult" phase worried both his parents and his younger siblings, and Luke slowly spiraled into deep loathing of just about everything.

When Michael came back home for the summer vacation, Luke had stopped talking to him altogether. This baffled the older Novak as he attempted to regain the closeness they once had to the point that he started suffocating Luke. He started lavishing him with attention again, so much so that he made it a point to know every minute detail of Luke's life. The more he pushed, the more Luke pulled away. The more he asserted his authority, the more Luke thought of him as a dickhead. Things got very tense between them and one day, when Michael pushed a little too hard, Luke snapped. Ever since then, they've been at each other's throats. Luke thought Michael was a self-rightous asshole and had no qualms about letting him know, and Michael began thinking of Like as a spoiled, self-absorbed brat.

So, really, that explained all the shouting in the kitchen right now.

Okay, maybe the chicken cinnamon disaster had something to do with it.

"...stupid! You are the most immature person I have ever had the pleasure of working with! Who the hell puts cumin in chicken cinnamon?! Oh that's right, Luke does!"

"You said put cumin! I was only following orders you self-righteous dick!" Luke shot back.

"I said CINNAMON! CIN-NA-MON. Get the difference? And I told you to bake it to 350 degrees. This is so undercooked, I can still hear the chicken clucking!" Michael shouted until he was red in the face, gesturing angrily to the dish in between them.

"Woah, chill Gordon Ramsey," Gabriel began.

"Shut up, Gabriel!" Michael and Luke shouted at the same time, prompting Gabriel to hold his hands up in defense.

"What's going on?" Dean appeared beside him, wiping his hands on his slacks which earned him a disgusted look from Sam.

"Oh, it's nothing." Gabriel said nonchalantly, examining his fingernails. "Just World War number...you know what, I lost count in '93."

"You mean the Apocalypse." Anna pipes up from where she was standing, elbows deep in pie dough.

"Nah, this is mild. The Apocalypse involves so much more than fighting over wrong ingredients." Gabriel says.

"Wait, you name their fights?" Sam asks, the expressions on his face warring between amusement, confusion and revulsion. It's not clear which emotion was winning, but it did a great job of making Sam look constipated.

Gabriel looks up at him. "Yep. There's the cold war, the civil war, the world war, and finally, the Apocalypse."

Sam stares at him for a moment before speaking up. "Okay, I have a feeling I'm already gonna regret this, but what exactly do those entail?"

"The cold war is where the don't talk for MONTHS. Emphasis on MONTHS." Gabriel replies, unwrapping a sucker. " The civil war is where every other word from their mouth is an insult or a jab. You're currently seeing the world war and trust me, you do NOT want to witness the Apocalypse. It'll leave you scarred." He adds, looking up at Sam. "I was witness to it once. Never was the same." He shudders, twirling the sucker in his mouth.

"Yeah," Sam says dubiously. "I bet you weren't."

Gabriel winks at him, grinning around the sucker. Sam pointedly looks away.

"So, this is still...what, normal?" Dean asks, gesturing to the shouting pair.

"Welcome to our life." Anna says with a grin.

Dean opened his mouth to reply when Balthazar came bursting through the kitchen doors with a look of pure panic on his face. "He's here." He said ominously.

All of a sudden, as if flipping a switch, Michael and Luke stopped shouting at each other and turned around to face Balthazar in tandem. "HE'S here?"

"Battle stations, men." Balthazar replied with a serious look on his face. "We're going into war."

All of a sudden, the kitchen became alive with activity. Gabriel had gotten rid of his sucker and was back to his station, barking orders at Anna who complied. Michael, Luke and Raphael went back to their respective stations and started working together in unison ...cleaning.

"What's going on?" Dean whispered to Sam who didn't get a chance to reply as they were yanked back out of the kitchen and promptly pulled into the waiters' station.

"Dude, what the hell!" Dean hisses as Castiel starts fixing their uniforms. He smoothed out imaginary wrinkles and fixed their aprons which, in Dean's case anyways, made Castiel's hand move closer to his crotch than he was comfortable with. "Uh, Cas?"

"Shut up, and let me fix your appearances. Sam, please, fix your hair. Dean, look happy." Castiel snapped as he tucked their shirts into their slacks. If his fingers grazed Dean Jr, well, no one was commenting on it.

"Castiel, what's going on?" Sam asked as he ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to keep it down. Why, though?

Castiel looks up at them with his unimpressed stare. He then forcefully turns them around. "Do you see that man in the suit?"

Dean doesn't know which man in the suit he's talking about. "Cas, there are about fifteen men in suits here. Who are you talking about?"

"That man," Castiel grits through his teeth. "By the window, examining the flatware."

It takes a while but eventually, they spot him. The man had a smarmy air about him and, though he was short in stature, carried himself effortlessly. He swiped a finger over the plate, examined it, scrunched his nose up in disgust before clicking a pen and scribbled something onto a clipboard. "Is he a food critic?" Dean asks.

"Worse. That's the Health Inspector." Castiel replies in an ominous voice, as if the Health Inspector was in the same league as the Devil. "He's always had it out for us, trying to force us to close on the most bogus claims. Last time, it was because he found a stray cat in the alleyway and told people we made our food with cat hair."

"That's...I don't even know what to say to that." Dean finishes.

"Do you want us to...serve him?" Sam ventures out.

To say Castiel looked scandalized was putting it mildly. "No. I want both of you to stay out of the way. I'll handle him."

In Dean's opinion, Castiel was telling them this like it was a top secret government espionage case or whatever and that they were expected to sneak around wielding their trays and everything while whispering into some secret earpiece. Castiel would make a great James Bond. He could pull off the whole tuxedo-wearing-sunglasses-indoors gig, if he was being perfectly honest.

"Are you sure?" Sam asks again, glancing quickly at the Health Inspector. "I mean, can we help in anyway?"

"No. Just please, no accidents, no spills, no nothing. Don't give him a reason to find something. Cause he will. And can you just imagine the legal battle?"

Sam nodded. "Alright. We'll be on our best behavior."

Castiel relaxed a bit. "Thank you. Now go!"


Fergus Crowley McLeod.

That name never failed to inspire fear among the weak of heart. Children have been reported to cry in his presence. Men have been reduced to almost nothing by a mere look. Plants and animals have been known to part whenever he passes, and it's been said that his glare could incinerate you so it's best to not make eye contact at all.

It's also been said that he's ruthless and as The Health Inspector, if he saw something he didn't like – whether it's a tiny spot on the glass window or a tiny rat scurrying behind the dumpster – he will not hesitate to have the place closed on the spot.

Castiel knew all of this but unlike some people, (cough, Gabriel, cough) he could hold a faux-hostile conversation with the man and not get blown up.

It goes a little like this: Heaven On Earth has had an ongoing battle with the Health Inspector for many years now – even before Castiel started working there – and they were known to be the one restaurant that managed to stay afloat despite the barrage of accusations against them, most of which weren't even true. Legend says that the animosity ran deep between Chuck Novak and Fergus Crowley McLeod. It was an animosity so deep that it fueled Crowley's crusade to have them shut down. And he will stop at nothing until he does.

The fact that Luke and Gabriel pranked the guy also had something to do with the Health Inspector's vendetta against them.

When Castiel walks over to him, the man looks up with an evil grin on his face. "Ah, Castiel. The man I just wanted to see. I've heard from a friend who heard from a friend who heard from some patrons that you have hired new...waiters." He said the last word like it was poison to him and perhaps, in his world, it was. "Let's switch things up a bit today, hm? Perhaps your new waiters can...service me?"

Castiel kept his face stoic and void of emotion, though his eyes widened just a fraction. "They're fairly new to the establishment. I do not wish to bring due pressure upon them this soon."

Crowley tutted. "I demand to see these new waiters and what better way to do that than to have them service me? I have grown weary of your face, Castiel, seeing as you're the only one brave enough to be my waiter, but I wish to see a new face. Surely, you understand?"

Castiel bit his tongue to keep from lashing out. "Of course. Let me talk to them."

"Take as much time as you need. Meanwhile," he pauses. "Please have this table reserved. I wish to inspect the establishment and I do not want anyone else sitting here. Do we have an agreement?"

Castiel resists the urge to whack this guy around the head. "It shall be waiting for you." He whips out a Reserved sign and sticks it to the centerpiece. "Excuse me."

He all but runs back towards Dean and Sam.


"You want us to what?!" Dean hisses.

"You want them to what?!" Michael hisses as well.

"Are you insane?!" Gabriel adds. "He'll chop them up, quarter them and eat them for lunch with a side serving of fries and bacon! And strawberry pie ala mode!"

"Wow, you really know how to boost a man's self – esteem." Sam deadpanned, turning to glare at Gabriel.

"Sorry, sweetums, but you know how it is."

"Stop calling me that!"

The shouting continues and Castiel decides to just give up and stomps out of the backdoor into the alleyway. He looks around for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of Marlboro cigarettes and his special lighter. He turned the pack over in his hand slightly before drawing a cigarette and sticking it into his mouth. He lit it up, took a drag before blowing the smoke out into the warm, summer air. He did this repeatedly until the cigarette was nothing but a pile of ashes that he crushed beneath his expensive, hand-made, Italian, leather shoes.

He pulled out another cigarette and repeated the procedure. He sighed deeply before puffing smoke out. Somehow, watching the smoke rise into the sky was relaxing.

"Stress smoking again?" He chided himself, staring at the pack. "Face it, Castiel. You're an addict."

The door opened and Castiel whirled around to see Dean standing there with a painful expression on his face. "Can I help you?" He asks, pocketing the cigarettes.

"Yeah. Uh, you can tell us what to do when we face Crowley. Dude's waiting out there and is probably plotting our downfall as we speak." Dean replies before scrunching his nose up. "Dude, did you smoke out here?"

There was no use denying it, really. "I find it relaxing."

Dean stares at him for a moment and Castiel forgets how to look away. Who had eyes that green? Seriously, those eyes cannot be natural. They're like...emeralds or some stone equally beautiful.

"Well, whatever man. It's your life." Dean finally speaks up. "Can you just please help us?"

Castiel nods. "I'll do the best I can to make sure you and your brother do not stumble."

Dean's lips quirk up in a half-smile and he claps Castiel on the shoulder. "Thanks, man."


"I daresay, I find nothing to report." Crowley begins in a slow, condenscending tone. "Everything is in perfect working order and there are no vermin anywhere." He pauses. "Well, aside from the obvious in the kitchen." He eyes them all with great disdain, starting at Michael and ending at Sam like they were bugs that he frequently steps on with his very expensive boots.

"However, the two waiters were...a surprise." He turns to Castiel. "You've trained them well."

Castiel's eyes widened a fraction. For Fergus Crowley McLeod to say that was a huge compliment in itself.

"But mark my words," Crowley wasn't done yet apparently. Castiel glanced at his companions to see that Luke was barely restraining himself and if Crowley kept yammering about, Luke will not hesitate to strangle the living daylights ouf of the man. Even if it did mean foreclosure. "This is not the end. I will have this establishment closed one of these days and there is nothing you kiddies can do about it."

He left the restaurant in a flurry of black robes and arrogance. For a while, nobody said anything and really, no one was willing to acknowledge the growing tension between all of them.

"Well, this is seriously making me want to kill myself."

Except Balthazar.

They all lifted their eyes to glare at him and Balthazar raised his hands up in sarcastic surrender.

"Well, one good thing came out of this." Michael began. "We still get to operate for another few months."

"Why don't you guys sue him?" Sam speaks out. "He's a real jerk from what I can see."

Gabriel looks at him with his aww, isn't he precious? face. "It's not that easy, Sambear. He'll fight back and Fergus Crowley McLeod insert dramatic music here fights dirty. He'll pull out every stunt in the book until we're nothing. Until this whole restaurant is nothing."

"He's right." Chuck suddenly appears and they all jump except for Michael. "Crowley has...shall we say, a personal vendetta against all of us. He wants nothing more than to see us close before he dies."

"What's his problem anyways?" Dean asks, afraid of the answer.

"Well, he and I were rivals in Culinary School actually." Chuck speaks up. "I guess he was always jealous of me. He dropped out of Culinary School and became a Health Inspector instead. It's more than that, though."

All eyes lift towards Luke and Gabriel who both looked overly offended. "What?" They squawk out.

"One day, Luke thought it'd be funny to put sliced ghost chili in Crowley's food." Anna began.

"When Crowley ate it, suffice it to say he ran around the restaurant and practically drank a months worth of milk just to get the hotness off his tongue." Balthazar intones.

"As if that wasn't enough, Gabriel had to go and slather peanut butter all over Crowley's dessert." Michael adds.

"And apparently, Crowley was extremely allergic to peanuts and we nearly sent him into anaphylactic shock." Raphael said.

"He took it personally and vowed vengeance against us." Castiel added.

"We said we were sorry." Luke cries out in mock hurt. "We didn't know he was the Health Inspector."

"Yeah, how were we to know?" Gabriel adds. "It wasn't like he was carrying a huge neon sign that said Health Inspector: Do not Prank."

"You don't prank customers, Gabriel!" Michael screeches out. "You just don't!"

Dean and Sam back away slowly until they were closer to Anna who was watching everything with an amused smirk on her face.

"So," Dean begins. "Is this the ultimate crazy?" He asks.

She shakes her head and grins up at him. "This is nowhere near. Believe me."


A/N: Sorry for the late upload (then again, I have no definite schedule) but it's summer vacation where I'm at so expect some frequent updates :)

And yes, "Chicken Cinnamon" is actually a real dish. I googled it.