3. Confidant

Hey handsome, you're looking sexy today. How do I know? Because you look sexy everyday.

Cas toyed with the piece of paper in his hands, using his thumb to smooth out the crinkled corners. He'd been awake for most of the night, sitting at the kitchen table with a warm mug of tea, just thinking about what he was going to do, after Jimmy's reassurance and Dean's vague, off-hand comment about being happy. Even as the clock ticked closer to four in the morning, Cas hadn't been pluck a solution out of the air on his own. In the end, he'd decided that he needed another opinion on the matter.

Taking a deep breath, he gave three light knocks on the door in front of him.

"It's open!"

Cas pushed the door open, peering around the office. Metatron was seated at his desk, fingers hammering down on the keys of a typewriter, his glasses sliding down his nose, his brow furrowed in concentration. Sheets of A4 paper were scattered everywhere, covering the entire surface of the cluttered desk, neat lines of dark writing printed onto them.

"Metatron?"

Without looking up from his typewriter, Metatron made a sweeping gesture with one hand. "Ah, Castiel. I was wondering when I'd have the pleasure of seeing you in my office. Please, take a seat."

The younger man did so, pausing to rescue one of the pieces of paper that were collectively about to slide off the desk. "So, uh, what are you doing? Are you working on the new catalogue, or -?"

"No, no." Metatron fed another sheet of paper into the machine, continuing to type almost immediately. "This is a story, Castiel."

"I see -"

"A marvellous story." Metatron carried on as if he hadn't spoken. "Full of love, and...heartbreak, and..." He struggled to find another adjective to describe just how marvellous this story actually was. "...love."

Castiel's eyebrow rose in interest. "You're a romance writer?" He glanced down at the sheet of paper in his hands, fresh from the typewriter.

"Wait, Steve." Michael reached out and grabbed his friend's shoulder before he could climb out of the car. "I can't let you do this."

"Michael?" Steve's voice was soft, concerned. "What's wrong?"

His friend opened his mouth to speak, but paused, wetting his lips as he tried to sum up everything he was thinking.

"Are you really wearing that?" He said finally. "On a date?"

Steve glanced down at his attire, his plain shirt, patterned vest and dark slacks, one of the few outfits that he'd owned since he'd graduated high school. "These are all I have, Michael."

"Well, then, looks like we're just gonna have to improvise." Michael looked his friend up and down, dropping his grip on his shoulder. "Hm. Lose the vest."

Steve blinked. Whatever he had been expecting Michael to say, it hadn't been that. "Excuse me -?"

"Just, trust me on this one. Lose the vest." The other man hesitated for a moment, before complying, tugging his dark blue vest from his body and discarding it in the back seat.

"Is this any better?" He asked. Michael gave another humming noise; Steve noticed that his grip on the steering wheel had tightened slightly.

"Yeah," he said suddenly. "Yeah, that's a little better. Why don't you...?" He gestured with a nod of his head. "Why don't you unbutton that a little bit?"

Steve's fingers paused in mid air. "Is this for my benefit or for yours, Michael?"

"I don't know," Michael replied, voice almost a whisper.

"Yes, well -" The paper suddenly vanished from his hands. "- that's quite enough about that." Metatron shuffled his pile of work, before placing it neatly in the tray beside him and removing his glasses, chewing the end of them as he watched the employee opposite him. "Now, Castiel, what was it that you needed, hm? Are there any problems I should know about?"

"No, no; I was actually wondering if I could ask for your advice on something."

"Advice? From me?" The man looked amused. "Well, then, if that's the case, ask away."

"It's about Meg."

Metatron's cheerful disposition slipped as he let out a sigh. "What has she done now? I've told her to leave you alone, but she doesn't seem to get the message. Don't worry yourself about it too much, Castiel. Sooner or later, she'll find someone else to tease in her spare time -"

"No, no, it's not about that," Cas interrupted quickly, too quickly to sound realistic. "Definetly not about that. I wanted to ask if you think she'd accept my invitation to dinner tonight." He bit his lip to try and keep his expression straight. The thought of going out to dinner with Meg - alone - made him downright uncomfortable; he had never quite got the hang of sarcasm, and Meg seemed to use it a lot.

A lot meaning in every other sentence that came from her mouth.

Metatron's brows knitted together. "Dinner? You and Meg? As in...as in, dinner dinner?"

"Yes."

"Alone? Together?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure about that, Castiel?"

"Is this your way of telling me that she'll say no?" Cas' eyebrow quirked up.

"No, no..." Metatron didn't look or sound like he meant it. "...no. Just, well, Meg can be a little...well, I've sure you've realised what she can be like. A lovely girl, of course, but..." He'd certainly changed his tune, Cas thought, thinking back to Metatron's assertion about just how great Meg was with children and how adored she was by them."Are you really sure that you want to go down this road?"

"I wouldn't be asking you for advice if I wasn't sure."

"You really want my advice on this one, Castiel?" The older man let out something that resembled a laugh - or maybe it was actually a noise of fear for him; Cas wasn't entirely sure which. "Don't let her anywhere near an open bar. She can be a mean drunk; trust me, I know this from three years of experience at our annual Christmas parties."

That certainly hadn't been the kind of advice that he'd been expecting to hear from someone like Metatron. "O...kay? I'll, um, take that into consideration."

"Make sure that you do. Now, if that's all you had to ask me, I must be getting on." He patted the pile of papers beside him. "Novels don't exactly write themselves, after all."

"Of course not." Cas gave a solemn nod, rising from the seat, hands resting against his slacks. "Thank you for your time."

"Good luck with that dinner," Metatron called after him, adding "You're going to need it," quietly under his breath when he thought that the younger man was out of earshot and couldn't hear him.

Believe me, Metatron, I don't doubt that, Cas thought warily.


Unlike when he was trying to avoid running in to her, Meg wasn't hard to find. She was slumped behind the customer service counter, as usual, busying herself with sticking post-it notes to every available surface that she could see.

Cas gave a nervous cough when he approached her, clutching at the small pile of books in his arms like they offered him some sort of protection from her sarcasm. "Um, hello, Meg."

She frowned, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. "Can I help you, Clarence?" She asked, in a tone of voice that told him that, regardless of what he said, she was bored of the entire conversation and therefore wasn't going to help him anyway.

"I was just, um, wondering..." Cas trailed off, not sure where to look or what to do; in the end, he settled for placing his books down for a moment and shuffling some loose sheets of paper that Meg had discarded at some point. "...how are you?" He winced; even for him, that was bad. Jimmy would be having a field day right now. He could imagine his twin doubling over in laughter, trying to muffle his expression with his hand but failing miserably at it.

"How am I?" The girl repeated in disbelief, eyebrow raised.

"Yes." Cas cleared his throat and gave a sharp nod. "How are you, Meg?"

"Ecstatic," she deadpanned. "Just freakin' ecstatic, Clarence. Can you go away now? Or was there something else that you wanted to bug me about?"

"No - I mean, yes - Well, not really, -" Stop, Cas! "I mean, er -"

"Spit it out, Clarence, sheesh, or we'll be here until Christmas."

"I was wondering if I could ask you something."

"Ask me something? Like what?" She folded her arms across her chest. "What could you possibly have to ask me? In fact, do you know what? Don't tell me."

"But -"

"You can ask me at dinner tonight."

Cas blanched. "Excuse me?"

"I said," Meg repeated, slower this time, as if he had been too mentally incompetent to understand the first time, "you can ask me at dinner tonight. Pick me up at seven. Here." She reached for the pad of sticky notes and scrawled something across the first post-it, before ripping it off and sticking it to Castiel's forehead with the flat of her palm before he could duck down out of her way. "That's my address and cellphone number. I look forward to dinner." She let out a final sniff, as if trying to prove to him just how dignified she was, before scooting past him, leaving Cas dumbly staring after her, wondering just what on earth he'd done to cause that to happen.


"Jimmy?" Cas fidgeted, wringing his hands together as he stared at his reflection in the hallway mirror, his light blue tie hanging limply around his neck. Had getting ready for dates always been this stressful? He didn't remember all this from the very few dates that he actually went on during college. Had he just forgotten it in his old age? Wasn't he supposed to be over all this awkwardness at thirty three?

"Yeah?" Jimmy materialised in the kitchen doorway, breadstick in hand. He whistled when he saw his twin's attire. "Sheesh. You're wearing a suit. You're actually wearing a proper freaking suit, not just those shirts and slacks you've been wearing since you graduated college. What's the occasion? The Lonely Hearts club meeting tonight or something?"

Cas rolled his eyes as his brother snickered at his own joke. "Actually, Jimmy, I've got a date. A date which I'm going to be late for if you don't help me with this tie."

Jimmy almost choked on his current mouthful of food. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up a freaking second...you've got a date? Like a real date? With another human being?"

"Yes, Jimmy, a real date with another human being," Cas repeated in exasperation. "Will we have to go through this every time? Now, will you please help me with this tie?"

"Isn't that my tie?" His twin asked, amusement in his voice as he finished his snack, brushed the crumbs from his fingertips, and then grabbed the two ends of the tie and looped them effortlessly around Castiel's neck. "There. Was that so hard?"

"I don't exactly own much in the way of formal attire," Cas admitted, giving his reflection another once over in the mirror, smoothing down the wrinkles in his suit jacket. He missed wearing his trenchcoat, however impractical it was at times. It was familiar, safe, almost like battle armour.

Jimmy snorted when he voiced this opinion. "Can't keep yourself stuck in what's safe forever, Cassie. Sad fact of life. You gotta get out there. Take risks. Make mistakes. Do stupid things and fall in love ten times and get your heart broken twenty times more. That's the only way life will truly be worth living. Only then will you know when you're truly happy." Cas blinked at his brother, his jaw starting to fall slack. "What?" Jimmy's brow pulled into a frown. "Why're you lookin' at me like that? Was it something I said?"

"Jimmy..." Cas swallowed. "That might just have been the greatest thing you've ever said."

"What do you mean?" Jimmy gave him a lopsided smile. "All the things I've ever said are great. They're nuggets of wisdom to be treasured forever."

There was the twin brother he knew. Cas rolled his eyes. "Maybe I should start following your word literally more often, Jimmy."

"Not maybe. Definitely."

"Right." A mirthful chuckle escaped Cas' lips, before he reached for his keys, lying on the table in the hallway. "I'll see you later. Don't stay up too late now."

"Sure thing, Mom," Jimmy replied mockingly. "I'll be in bed by eight thirty as agreed." He snorted after Castiel's retreating form. "Honestly, Cassie. What am I, ten?"

Cas cast his eyes up towards the heavens at the comment, almost walking directly into Gabriel in the process, who was making his way up the front path.

"Wow!" He exclaimed when he did a double take. "Cassie! What's the occasion? Lonely Hearts Club?"

"That's what I said!" Jimmy chortled.

God, for people who weren't even full siblings, Jimmy and Gabriel were scarily similar, Cas thought. "I've got a date," he said in response to Gabriel's question.

The oldest Novak was silent for a moment, before he burst into a loud peal of laughter, great roaring howls that echoed back down the front path and straight across the street. Cas was surprised that the neighbours hadn't burst forth from their houses to complain about the sudden commotion, or at least called an ambulance - Gabriel did sound a little like a poor dying animal, after all.

He scrubbed away a tear drop from his eyes as he sucked in a sharp breath, letting out a few hiccups as he did so. "Oh, Cassie," he sighed, once he'd regained his ability to speak. "You're hilarious. Now, seriously, where you off to?" His query was met with silence. "What?" He glanced between Cas' unimpressed expression and Jimmy's raised eyebrow. "Oh. You were...you were being serious?"

"What gave it away?"

"Sheesh. I can't believe it. Cassie's finally got himself a date." Gabriel put a hand over his heart. "Wow. You hear that, Jim-Bob? Cassie's got a date. He's growing up at last. I think I'm getting a little emotional."

"Yes, well, why don't you go be emotional inside, Gabriel?" Cas suggested sarcastically. "I'm not going to even get to my date at this rate."

"Ooh, ouch." Gabriel winced. "Does dating make everyone this crabby, or is it just Castiel? Because I swear I do not act like this every time I take Samwich out to dinner. And I bet you won't act like this when you eventually get your head outta your ass, Jim, and ask that Amelia chick out for coffee."

"Shut up." Jimmy's red cheeks were illuminated in the glaring lights of the hallway. "We're just friends."

"Friends? Right. You're as much friends as me and Sam are..."

The sound of their bickering faded into the background as Cas managed to escape down the garden path, fiddling with the cuff links on his sleeves as he climbed into his car (that Gabriel had practically parked on top of, he might add) and swerved out into the road.

After searching for directions to Meg's address on the Internet, it turned out that she didn't actually live too far away from the house belonging to the Novak twins, and sooner rather than later, Castiel found himself idling outside Meg's, stuck sitting in the car, unsure of whether or not to venture up the garden path. He hadn't been deliberating for more than five minutes, when he heard his cellphone sounding from where he'd stuffed it into the glove compartment earlier that afternoon; he rescued it, waiting patiently for the screen to load.

I can see you sitting outside, you doofus. Get your ass over here, Clarence. [Sent 19.00]

Well, that was the end of that plan, then (although how Meg had gotten hold of his cellphone number, he wasn't entirely sure). Cas sucked in a breath and forced himself to get out of the car, making his way up the concrete walkway, giving three sharp taps on the front door when he reached it. Meg opened it merely a second later, eyebrow raised.

"You're late," she snorted.

"No, I'm not. It's seven o'clock; Well, okay -" He checked his watch " - technically it's one minute past seven, but -"

"Maybe if you hadn't been sitting in your car for the past twenty years you would have been on time," Meg replied, grabbing her jacket from the coat peg by the door and locking up behind her. "So, where're we going?"


"Ugh." Meg picked at the plate of food in front of her, letting a leaf of lettuce slide from her fork. "What the hell is this crap? This isn't food. How can people like coming here?" She seized her glass and drained the last drop of liquid from it. "Ugh," she repeated. "I'm getting some more of this."

"Uh -" Metatron's "advice" came flooding back. "Meg, I really don't think -"

Meg silenced him with an angry look. "Just shut up and eat your salad, Clarence," she said, before rising from her seat and making her way over to the bar on the other side of the room, giving Cas time to contemplate how exactly this disastrous evening had occurred and why he ever thought it was a good idea. And he hadn't even asked Meg about the notes yet - although, if it really was her sending them, wouldn't she be showing more...well, more of anything than just snark? Wouldn't she be acting like she actually wanted to be there, instead of standing across the other side of the room and arguing with the bar tender?

Cas reached into his pocket and brought out his cell.

Dean. Help me. Please. [Sent 20.42]

Why? The reply was almost instantaneous. What'cha done now? [Sent 20.43]

Something terrible. [Sent 20.43]

Can't be that bad, Cas. [Sent 20.44]

Oh, it is. [Sent 20.44]

Fine. It is. What's up? [Sent 20.44]

I'm on a date. And it's awful. How do I cope with this? [Sent 20.45]

Wait, wait, you're on a DATE?! [Sent 20.45]

Yes, Dean. Try to focus on the problem at hand, please. [Sent 20.46]

Cas, not every hook-up is perfect. You just struck out on this one. Sorry, buddy. [Sent 20.46]

Meg slammed her empty glass back on the table, signalling her arrival. "This place sucks," she declared loudly, causing several other customers to turn and glance in their direction.

"I think it's time we go now," Cas suggested, leaving a roll of bills underneath their unfinished plates as he rose from his seat, eager to get out of the public spotlight.

"Finally," Meg muttered, letting him lead her out of the entrance and into the brightly lit parking lot where his car was patiently waiting.

Cas made a mental note, as he got behind the wheel, to never show his face in this particular restaurant ever again.

The drive back to Meg's place thankfully went as quickly as it had done when Cas had set off earlier that evening. Meg switched the radio off as soon as it sprung into life, her eyes fixed shrewdly on the road ahead of them, illuminated by the car's headlights, which suited Castiel just fine at the end of the day.

"So." He broke the awkward silence between them as they sat in front of her house, unsure of what to do now. "This was certainly...interesting; I hope - mmph!" He was cut off by Meg grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming their lips together, Cas' arms flailing, caught somewhere between the wheel and the door. She pulled away after a long moment, scrubbing her mouth with the back of her hand as she did so.

"Okay, Clarence. Now that we've got that crap out of the way, what's this dinner thing about?"

"I -"

"C'mon. You clearly don't want to be here with me, I get that. So, what's this really been about? Why did you ask me out in the first place?"

Cas paused, debating whether or not to correct her about how it was actually her who had demanded to be taken to dinner and not the other way around, before he reached into the glove compartment and tossed the notes at her. "These, Meg. Did you write these?"

"What?" She frowned, opening up one of the notes. "If you were a fish, I'd be the sea, because you're the only fish in the sea for me - Ew! No! God, you seriously think I'd write such sappy crap as this? Please. Quite frankly, I'm insulted you'd even think it was me in the first place."

"So, you're not -..." Cas' whole body relaxed in relief at this revelation. Meg raised an eyebrow at his reaction and he quickly scrambled to defend himself. "I mean, er, you're a lovely woman, but I just don't -"

"Oh, please, Clarence, cut that crap right now. You can't stand me, I can't stand you, and we both know it. However..." she smirked, shuffling forward suggestively. "Maybe we could get to know each other a little bit better."

Cas leaned away. "Meg -"

She chortled. "Jesus Christ, you seriously don't like me, huh? Relax, I'm not gonna have my way with you when you're not looking. I was merely going to offer you my help."

He frowned. "Your help? With what? What could I possibly need your help with?"

"This." She dumped the crumpled notes into his lap. "You need someone else on the inside besides you, after all, and I wouldn't risk going to Metatron about this stuff. He wouldn't know romance if it bit him on the ass in broad daylight."

"He's a romance writer," Castiel replied in confusion. "Isn't he supposed to thrive on this stuff?"

"Metatron? A romance writer? You mean that dusty old manuscript that he's been working on for the past three years? Huh!" Meg snorted, not even bothering to cover up her scorn. "Trust me, Clarence, that man will do you no favours if you go to him about this. I, on the other hand...could be of great use." She threw him a wink.

Cas thought about it for a few long minutes. "Okay. Fine. I need all the help I can get, after all."

"Great. Call me, then. We'll negotiate the first moves tomorrow."

"We will?"

She gave him a pitying look as she scrambled out of the passenger seat. "Yes, Clarence. We will. Oh, and by the way..." She turned back to face him. "That was the worst kiss I've ever had."

With that, she slammed the car door and turned on her heel, leaving Cas, once more, staring in silence after her, and wondering how on earth it had gotten to this.