"Oh God, today is going to be interesting," Anna moaned and dropped in the chair next to Dean. "Friday the 13th and a full moon, ugh."

Dean chuckled and patted Anna on the back. "If it's any consolation, today will probably be better than last month."

"Anything will be better than last month," Anna grumbled and scowled at the memory of that day.

Dean and she had been partnered up and had resulted in a drunk man calling her "sweet cheeks" each time she addressed him; three teenage boys egging their car when they were responding to a noise complaint; her pants ripping at the knee when she wrestled an aggravated woman threatening to attack her boyfriend; and finally, a man butting her, claiming to be a werewolf—that one was her favourite.

Dean continued to laugh and lightly rub Anna's back. He hoped for her sake that she got desk duty this time.

"All right, werewolves and Robert England hunting us down. Let's get started," Ash announced, walking into the parade room with a too happy smile plastered on his face.

"That's Freddy Krueger, you dick. Wrong movie," Charlie laughed, following closely behind the officer.

"Whatever," Ash waved his hand dismissively, "This day is still going to be great."

"He's obviously never spent a full moon on the streets," Dean mumbled under his breath, which earned him a light chuckle from Charlie, who was sitting in front of him, next to Castiel.

"Hey, Milton. Ready for today?" Chuck taunted and nudged Anna as he walked by their table.

It was a thing they all did during Friday the 13th and full moons—to share their stories. Not every shift was an event, but there was always someone who had a hell of a day. Needless to say, Anna had beaten them all. Even though it happened in May, only a month ago, she was still being teased; but she took it like a champ.

Anna just moaned and kept her face pressed into the table. "Desk duty would be a blessing," her voice was muffled against the wood.

Charlie turned around and smiled. "Unlike you, I am actually looking forward to this. I hope I get booking; you get all the great stories."

"Yeah and uncooperative assholes who hate you because they're stuck in a 'cage'. Fun," Dean said sarcastically, and gave a mocking smile. "I just hope I'm not with-" hegave a short whistle and pointed at the back of Castiel.

Charlie glanced at the officer beside her and back at Dean. She was biting her lip to refrain from laughing.

Castiel let out a heavy sigh and look up from the table. "Just because I'm not looking at you, doesn't mean I can't hear you, nor understand what you are implying."

Even though Cas' head was facing the wall ahead of the, Dean could tell his eyes were narrowed.

There was a bit of scattered chuckling, and slowly the room began to fill. Anna finally looked up when they heard Crowley enter the room. The man looked exceptionally sour—more so than usual. He didn't greet the room with his usual offending introductions. Instead, he just strolled straight to the front and up to the podium.

There was still some light chattering coming from a few officers who did not notice the Staff Sergeant's arrival. Crowley either didn't care or was setting them up for embarrassment.

Someone gave and loud cough and soon the taking died.

Crowley smirked vindictively and began to speak. "Good, now that everyone has shared their insignificant gossip, I'd like to begin. If that's okay with you?" He nodded to the three officers who in returned blushed and hung their heads in embarrassment.

Yep, sick bastard, Dean thought, and judging by Chuck's now anxious face, he was having similar thoughts.

The staff sergeant gave a smug smile before actually beginning today's briefing. "Friday the 13th and a full moon." Someone had the nerve to actually howl, but judging by Crowley's face, he didn't care. "While I say the whole theory is bollocks, apparently to some the stories are 'true'. So I am required to warn you to be alert today." He made a point to glance around the room with a stern look, which everyone knew was just an act. "So patrol like usual, but keep an eye out for suspicious behaviour."

"Anna!" He called out, causing the woman to jump and stare wide-eyed.

"Yes, sir?" To her credit, Anna's voice was a lot calmer than her posture.

"Since your story last month is practically infamous, as an arrangement, you're being put on a desk." At the man's first words, Anna's whole body relaxed instantly. "The rest of you, your assignments are on the board. So, go serve and protect, and all that crap." Crowley waved his hand dismissively and walked off as the officers stood.

"Always with the pleasantries," Dean muttered sarcastically and got up with Anna. "At least you got your wish." He smiled and the woman's smile dropped.

"I feel like Crowley's act wasn't out of the kindness he was presenting. I'm still going to be hearing about this a—oh no." Anna threw her head back dramatically and let out a low growl. "Frankel is on desks. That kid is going glue himself to me and talk my fucking ear off."

"Oh, come on," Dean glanced at Anna, who looked like she was in the middle of a prayer, "Gary's not a bad kid. A little eccentric, maybe."

"You've never been stuck with that kid for long periods of time. I swear, you'll never want to listen to a sound for days after a shift with him," she ranted and turned away from the board.

"I think you're being a little too hard on the kid," Dean admitted. Though he found Anna's anger to be entertaining, he remembered what it was like to finally lose the 'rookie' title and become an officer; eager to prove one self. "Anyway," he continued and looked for his assignment for the day, "I'm-"

"Booking, Dean. Let's go," Castiel called out, walking by his husband and over to the door.

"Aw, you got to be fucking kidding me," he moaned, a little too loudly—earning a few chuckles from some fellow officers.

"Looks like we're both in the same boat." Anna grinned, clearly enjoying Dean's own annoyance.

"Let's go, Dean," Cas snapped from the door, after Dean didn't make a move to follow him.

"Wanna have lunch together?" Anna offered as she and Dean followed Castiel. "We can bitch to each other."

"I'll meet you in the break room," was all Dean said before they headed off to booking and Anna off to the squad room.

True to Anna's assumptions, Gary Frankel plopped himself down at the desk facing hers.

"Have you ever noticed people often say 'good night' when it's past midnight, and yet it's really morning?"

She groaned quietly; and so it began.

SB SB SB

Castiel and Dean walked quietly to the booking room. Castiel could tell how pissed Dean was that they were partnered together again. It would be five times in less than a month. Sometimes he thought Crowley had it out for them. He tried to think back to what they did together to piss off Crowley. There was that time they "allowed" (as Crowley had put) that drunk biker to drop a TV on their cruiser, putting a car out of commission when they didn't have the budget to replace it. That had been the only time Dean and he had messed up enough to end up in the Staff Sergeant's office, but that was two years ago. Crowley couldn't still be out for them. Could he?

Sure, Crowley was a dick, and constantly subjecting everyone to his daily insults. Possibly offending anyone who walked by him, but… Hell, it was probably their punishment. Karma showing its ugly face, having it out for them since they couldn't seem to hold their tongues every time they were together.

"I don't know what's worse: spending ten hours in a car with you or spending ten hours with Chuck Noland over there watching us," Dean grumbled and nodded to a holding cell where a scruffy looking man sat, staring at them.

"Do you really have to be so negative?" Castiel sighed and brushed passed him so he could take a seat behind the desk. "I haven't even said anything and already you're attacking me."

Dean smirked and sat down next to Cas, he really didn't care about being partnered with his husband today; it was easier to ignore him at a desk than in a squad car. But it was still fun to mess with him, especially when it would irritate him to no end.

SB SB SB

It was three hours into the shift and the day was holding up to its name. So far, they had processed and booked a man for causing a disturbance in a neighbourhood because his girlfriend locked him out, even though he had his key in his pocket. He would have been let go if he didn't punch Kevin in the face for suggestion that he check his pockets; poor kid. Two university students were in for stealing a coffeehouse sign and running from the on-scene officer.

"Okay, which famous landmark is constantly moving backwards?" Dean asked, reading off his computer screen, and looked over at Cas, who was working on some paperwork. They had just reached the three and a half hour mark, and things were surprisingly quite.

"Niagara Falls," Castiel answered, without looking up from his paper. He didn't get where the random question came from, but he wasn't about to indulge Dean further.

"Yeah," Dean sighed, sounding disappointed that Castiel had gotten the question correct.

"You know it's because of erosion and-" Cas continued, not able to help himself.

"I know, Cas. I was just quizzing you," Dean cut in before his husband could explain the whole "science" behind it. "All right, how about this one, since you're into all that historical crap. And you're Catholic right?" he didn't wait for an answer and continued reading off the question. "This thirteenth century monk and theologian-"

Castiel huffed in frustration and sat up, looking straight ahead, but Dean could see the impatient expression on his face. "I don't know. How the hell should I know this?"

"You didn't even let me finish," Dean argued and glanced at Cas who ran his hand through his hair, tugging on the ends.

"I don't care." Cas shifted and turned to the right, staring at Dean. "In case you haven't noticed, but I haven't exactly been practicing since I graduated high school." He lolled his head to the left, watching Dean with a bored expression.

Dean ignored the little speech and continued to scroll down the page on his screen. Cas just shook his head in disbelief and turned back to his work.

"How much screen time did Anthony Hopkins have as Hannibal Lecter in 'Silenc'-?"

"What the fuck are you doing?" Castiel interrupted, and Dean heard the wheels of Castiel's chair roll over the floor as he pushed back and moved to his side of the desk, peering over his shoulder. "Trivia? Really?" Castiel's tone was clearly disapproving. "We're supposed to be working, not accumulating pointless shit that no one is going to reference but you."

Dean struggled to refrain the insult that was burning on his tongue—mainly because the men in the holding cells were now interested in the two officers' squabble.

"It's sixteen, by the way," Dean looked up at Castiel, a smug smile playing at his lips. He closed the webpage and leaned back in his chair. "Just so you know, this might be helpful; you may finally beat Gabe at 'Trivial Pursuit' if you paid attention to my 'pointless shit'."

He looked back up at Castiel, batting his eyelashes with a cheeky smile. Castiel slapped Dean's arm, with a little too much force, causing Dean to wince. Luckily, their only witnesses were the men in the cells, and they were more concerned with how entertaining the seen was with the two quarreling officers.

"Come on; just a few more," Dean whined, continuing to look up at Cas, who in returned frowned and shook his head. "They're fun, Cas. Come on." He straightened up and opened the webpage again. He scrolled down the page, trying to find one that might interest his purist of a husband. "You know," he continued without looking away from the screen, "If you continue to scowl like that, you're just going to end up with frown lines at twenty-eight; not very flattering."

Castiel gritted his teeth, keeping the insult he was itching to say to himself. Instead, he took a deep, calming breath and relaxed his face. He needed to get along with Dean. It wasn't like when they were patrolling together, where they could bitch at each other as much as they wanted—they were in the precinct, where any of their co-workers could walk in.

"What site are you on, anyway?" Castiel leaned forward again, almost letting his chin rest on Dean's shoulder.

"Just some trivia site. It has a bunch of shit on it. Mainly pop culture, so I doubt you'll get any of them," hejoked, though Castiel knew he was taking a jab at him for his lack of knowledge on popular movies and music. However, he knew more than when he first met Dean. Being married to a man who used movie and song references in his everyday vocabulary was helpful to some extent.

"I'm not incompetent, Dean," Cas deadpanned. Dean's little jeers were tiresome, but they weren't anything new. He had learned to let them roll off of him. "Being marri-"

Dean stiffened when he realized what Cas was about to say. Before Cas finished the word, the lanky college boy, who was twenty-two, but looked sixteen, cleared his throat, pulling Cas and Dean back to awareness of their surroundings.

Castiel hadn't realized how close to Dean he had gotten. He was practically leaning against his husband, able to smell the spice of his cologne. Dean seemed to realize this too, as their eyes met when Dean sat up.

A noise of protest came from the holding cell and Castiel straightened up and cleared his throat. Dean blinked a couple of times before turning towards the cell.

"What?" he demanded and watched as the kid stood up in front of the bars.

"How long are we going to be in here?" the guy moaned, throwing his head back theatrically. "We've been in here for hours."

"You still need to post bail," Castiel answered this time, and took a seat back in his chair.

"When will that be?" the man moaned again, earning an annoyed growl from the other man in the next cell.

"It will take however long it takes for your brother to get here. Now, please sit down." The man glared at Cas and started to pace the length of the cell. "But he's in Boston today," the kid whined and stomped his foot petulantly.

"Sucks to be you then," Dean chuckled and went back to reading his trivia questions.

"You know you really shouldn't-" Castiel was interrupted by Dean's cell phone going off.

"Shit," he cursed and reached into his pocket. He had no clue who would be calling him at work. Everyone he knew who had his schedule knew not to call.

"Really, Dean? You left your phone on?" Castiel watched as Dean finally got his phone out only to ignore the call.

"Thought I turned it to silent." He shrugged and placed his phone on the desk.

"Who was it anyway?" Castiel asked, mildly interested as to who would be calling Dean's personal number while he was at work. If it was someone important he would have answered it.

"No one," Dean muttered, hoping that Castiel would push for more information. It was one thing he had loved and hated about his husband, the way he could read people so easily. Dean's phone started ringing again, and Castiel raised an eyebrow.

"No one? Are you sure? Who the hell would be calling you at work?" Castiel reached out to grab the phone, but Dean beat him to it.

Dean smirked tauntingly at Cas, while the other man just narrowed his eyes. "Nosey, huh?" Dean teased.

Castiel shrugged and watched Dean carefully. His husband, though it was barely noticeable, looked guilty. He kept glancing down at his phone, while trying to make an effort to do his job.

"It's just Sam," he sighed in defeat and changed the volume of his phone just as a third call came through.

Castiel's face softened and concern filled his eyes. "Have you talked to him?" he wondered; he hadn't spoken to his brother-in-law since that bizarre phone call last week. He had asked Dean about it a couple of days ago, but like everything else, his husband's answer was vague.

"Yep," Dean answered curtly, as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"And?" Castiel pressed, wanting more than a one syllable answer. "How is he?"

"Fine," he said in a similar fashion to his previous answer—abrupt and distant.

"Anything else?" Castiel knew Dean was probably getting pissed—if the long, exasperated breath he let out was anything to go by. But he hadn't heard from Sam and he was concerned.

"Nope," he popped the 'p' and turned his attention back to his computer.

Fine, Cas thought, if Dean could be difficult then so could he. Castiel turned his chair so he was faced directly at Dean. He could see his husband peer at him from the corner of his eye, but quickly averted his gaze.

"That's it, really? Come on, Dean, you're brother called sounding like he was on the verge of a panic attack, and all you've got to say about him is 'fine'?"

"For fuc-" Dean started to growl, but stopped when he caught sight of the three men staring curiously at them. "Do you really have to be so stubborn? What the hell do you think 'fine' means? He's fine; just drop it." Dean sent Cas an icy stare.

A few years ago, Dean's threats may have caused Cas to back off, but not now. Now, he would just bite back.

"I have to be stubborn to when you refuse to tell me anything." He kept his voice surprisingly calm—probably using the self-control he'd built up over the years of being with Dean. It was something he had to do or he'd be punching everything in sight every time Dean refused to be open with him. "I care for Sam. I just want to make sure it's no-"

"Jesus, fuck. They broke up," Dean snapped, slamming his hand against the desk. "Sam and Jess broke up. She came over that day and they broke up. Happy?"

Dean knew he was being unfair; he knew Castiel cared for Sam as if he was his own brother. He should have told Cas the day he called Sam back after their cancelled dinner, but Cas had gone to Gabriel's and when he'd returned it was time for their shift and he wasn't in the mood to broach the subject.

Cas' startled expression over Dean's outburst quickly morphed into sadness. Dean groaned and pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead. He slowly dragged his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. He wasn't breaking any promises by telling Cas this. Sam couldn't care less if anyone knew, Dean just didn't want to explain it at work—in the booking room with three delinquents watching them.

"How is he taking it?" Castiel asked softly, feeling a little guilty for pushing him, he could tell he was stressed over it.

"He's doing okay. Honestly." Dean's eyes were sincere, but he knew the Winchesters long enough to know that "okay" was not "okay" by anyone's standards.

"We talked for a couple of hours; he didn't want me to come over. I don't think he fully realizes what's happened. He's kind of just thrown himself into studying," h ereplied truthfully. Now that Cas knew, there was really no reason in hiding the truth.

Castiel just felt concern for Sam. Jess and Sam had been together since the year before Sam started law school. It was probably devastating for him.

"Was it…sudden?" Castiel felt a little insensitive asking the question, but he wanted to know. By Dean's description of Sam, it sounded like everything had happened abruptly.

"Apparently they were having problems for a while, or so Sam said. I don't know. I think he's a little detached at the moment. I don't know what really happened, but next family dinner, I wouldn't bring it up." The last part served as a warning, which Cas noted.

"When are we-?"

"Kiss my ass, you bitch," a woman screamed, cutting the officer off, and causing both officers to jump up. "I swear when we get out of here I am going to shove my shoe up-"

"Okay," Charlie raised her voice as she came into view, leading a very angry, handcuffed woman. Her blonde hair was falling out of its clip, and her grey hoodie was falling off her shoulders. "If you make good on that promise, I have no problem arresting you again." Charlie struggled to get the woman over to the desk as the woman began to drag her feet, trying to get back to the door, where Dorothy Baum walked in, leading a brunette woman in a similar state.

"Yo, Winchester, I need a bin." The last word was said in a grunt, since the blonde woman began to struggle against Charlie again.

Both Dean and Cas stared at the situation, slightly alarmed and confused. Cas handed Charlie the bin, not taking his eyes off the other woman, who was struggling just as much as her friend.

"This is Jenna Skye. Found her and her friend going at it," Charlie cocked her head to the side, in the direction of Dorothy and the other woman. "Arrested them on assault and drug possession." She waved a little baggie of marijuana. "Her friend is Tracy Barr. Both claim the other started the fright. Both are refusing to talk. Enjoy." Charlie handed Jenna to Castiel who took her to get finger printed and photographed, while Dean began to process Tracy.

Once Castiel had returned, Dean moved to lead Tracy to the other room. Between the pass off of Tracy from Dean to Castiel and Dean seating Jenna on a bench, both women ended up taking a run at each other.

"I told you he didn't want you. Now look where you got us," Jenna cried, kicking Tracy's feet out from under her, causing Tracy to land on the ground hard. "You said just onetime, and now what, huh?" Jenna got a couple more kicks in before Charlie and Dean pulled Jenna off and away from the other woman, while Dorothy pulled Tracy up.

They received a couple of catcalls and derogatory remarks from the men in the cell.

"I'll fuck you up, bitch. As soon as we are out, we are done," Tracy yelled, and tried to take another run at Jenna. Dorothy struggled with her grip on the woman.

"Damn, this is like girls go-" one of the frat boys began to cheer, stepping up to the bars.

"Hey! Shut up," Dean snapped, glaring at the man. The last thing they needed was some asshole encouraging the fight.

The two women continued yelling; Dorothy trying in vain to get her voice heard.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, cutting through the two women's arguing, "Enough! Officer Bradbury," his voice quieted, "Please take Ms. Skye to interview."

"Tessa said she can get someone to talk to both of them now," Cas piped up from the desk, phone cradled between his ear and shoulder.

"Just take Ms. Skye for now. Ms. Barr still needs to be processed," Dean instructed.

"You know I'm not the one to be doing this," Charlie sing-songed as she lead Jenna to the door.

"Just do me this favour; I'm a little busy," Dean held up the clipboard with the paperwork he was working on for Tracy. "Officer Novak, take Ms. Barr and finish processing her." Castiel nodded and led the woman into the other room.

Dorothy smirked and cocked an eyebrow. "A little too much excitement, Dean?" she teased. "It's a full moon; got to expect a little crazy."

"Not my idea of fun," Dean mumbled.

"Well, at least you're only getting the tail end of it. Trust me; it's a lot more fun out there. I'll reckon it'll get a lot more exciting for you later on." She winked at Dean, getting the man to smirk and let out a small chuckle.

Dorothy was average height, slim built and brunette. Dean had talked to her a few times, mainly outside of work at the bars. She was good friends with Charlie, having graduated from the academy together. She was cute and spunky, a lot like Charlie, though Dean hadn't actually worked with her personally.

"Well, I got to go," Dorothy nodded when Charlie returned. "We still have six hours left, oh God." She groaned as she looked at her watch.

"See ya," Dean gave a little wave as the two other officers walked out of the room. A few minutes later Castiel returned, minus Tracy.

"Tessa took her," he explained, knowing what Dean was thinking. "She also said Rogers is almost done with Jenna, so she'll be placed in a cell soon."

"Let's just hope those two have calmed down enough," he said, walking around the desk to his chair, "I'd prefer not to have to wrestle them apart again. I think she scratched me." He examined his arm, rubbing over where a long red mark was.

"Really, a scratch? Dean, you're received worse," Cas teased. It was always interesting how Dean decided what to make a big deal of and what to ignore—usually he focused on the wrong thing.

"Shut it, hon," Dean retorted and gave a half smirk when he saw Castiel's eyebrows raise when he realized what Dean had just called him.

"Wha-" Dean raised his eyebrows and turned around to look into the hall. "No one's around. Do you really think I would be that reckless?"

"Look, it's miraculous that we've been able to keep this charade up for as long as we have. I would prefer to not let it all be in vain for some petty insult." Castiel knew Dean would never intentionally blow their secret—he wanted to keep it hidden just as much as he. However, Dean was reckless at times; if either of them were to let their secret slip, it would be Dean.

When they agreed to keep their marriage a secret that even included acting like they were in a relationship. No dating. No flirting. Only professionalism. It was becoming taxing, especially now when all either of them wanted was to wring each others necks. But they had fought too long to give it up now.

"Oh, come on," Dean huffed and threw his head back, "It was one comment. Drop it."

"You're the one who wanted to continue to hid-" Castiel argued, but again, Dean cut him off.

"They're going to find out if you continue to talk. Just shut up." Dean knew he was out of line with that comment, but he wouldn't apologize; they didn't apologize.

Castiel inhaled deeply and glared at him hotly for a brief second. "I'm going on my break," he muttered and pushed out of his chair.

"What? No," Dean turned to face Cas. He was supposed to meet Anna for lunch, he didn't want Cas to take his spot.

"Calm down, Dean. I'm going on my break; you can still have your 'lunch date' with Anna." Castiel didn't wait for Dean's reply and strolled out of the room, aware of Dean's gaze following him.

Once Cas had left the room Dean turned back around, facing his computer. "Fuck," he mumbled, throwing his pen on the desk and rubbed his hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. They were getting along and then he just had to push it with that stupid remark. "What the hell is wrong with me?" It was odd, he felt really bad for his comment, and yet they both had said things worse than just "shut up".

SB SB SB

"I swear: I am going to kill him," Anna seethed when she entered the break room and stopped next to Castiel at the counter.

"I really hope you don't mean that. Especially since we are in a police station," Castiel remarked, looking down as his coffee swirled around the cup.

"I don't care. I cannot spend another five hours sitting with that kid, let alone one. I am about one-step from tasering his ass. Ugh." The female officer tossed the chip bags she was clutching in her hands, which Castiel figured were horribly broken now. She yanked open a cupboard door and grabbed two packets for sugar.

"It's actually five and a half," Castiel corrected, glancing at Anna. He grabbed a lid from the stack next to the coffee machine and placed it on his cup.

"Not helping," she moaned and grabbed the coffee pot, pouring her own cup. "Seriously, all he does is talk. I don't think I've had a moment of quiet besides the time he went to the washroom."

Anna was clenching her hands and taking deep, shaky breaths. Castiel didn't doubt she may taser Frankel if given the chance.

"For the last hour it's been about the World Cup. Who the fuck cares about soccer, or football, or whatever the fuck people call it. I mean, I do, but not enough to talk about it for an hour straight. How does he not run out of things to say?" Her eyes were wide and her knuckles were turning white as she pushed her nails into the palms of her hands.

"Come on, he can't be that bad," Cas reasoned as he tried to calm the flustered woman. He'd only dealt with Gary once, and luckily it was only for a couple of hours, but Anna was right…sort of.

Anna snickered and rolled her eyes. "You sound just like Dean," she noted, glancing at him sideways.

"Uh," Cas sputtered dumbly, not entirely sure how to respond to that.

"It's weird; stop it. I think you're spending too much time with him." Anna chuckled again when she saw the practically horrified look on Castiel's face.

Were they really becoming that couple? After eight—almost nine years of marriage, were they really becoming each other?

"Relax, Cas, I'm just messing with you." She patted Cas on the forearm. She picked up her coffee and took a sip before speaking again. "So, how is it going with Dean? Is he being an ass like you always claim he is?" Even though Anna was supposed to be complaining to Dean, she couldn't help but extend the support to Castiel.

"He's been…" Castiel paused for a moment, trying to find the right words for Dean, "off and on. We were getting along earlier, but then we were in the middle of booking two women and they ended up fighting each other." Anna nodded, encouraging Cas to continue. "After we got them separated, Dean became moody and—anyway, now he's pissed at me or something. I don't know; I left before he could lash out at me."

"I still say I win," Anna teased and walked over to a table, taking a seat in a chair facing the door and windows, watching a couple of officers walk by. "You'll still be sane after working with Dean. You've done it before."

The ironic thing about Dean and Cas' co-workers were, they always saw Dean as the aggressor, the one always starting the arguments. But Castiel was just as guilty, he just made sure they were alone before he tore into Dean.

"I'll make you a deal," Cas changed the subject. He took his coffee and sat in the chair on Anna's left. "Next time, if you are partnered with Gary, I'll switch with you."

The noise of delight Anna let out was almost childlike and not something that would come from the twenty-eight-year-old woman—it was amusing.

"Really? You're not joking?" Her face turned stern in a matter of seconds. "You're not setting me up?" She pointed a warning finger at Cas.

Even though Anna's voice was threatening, it didn't bother Cas. There was no promise in her threat.

"I promise," Castiel reassured and took a swig of his coffee; his body was relaxed in his chair. "Though, I doubt you'll actually be partnered with Gary again anytime soon."

Anna hummed and ran her finger around the rim of her cup. "I don't know," she said thoughtfully, taking a quick glance at the hall before continuing. "Crowley's a sadistic bastard. He relishes in everyone's misery. If he knows you hate it, he'll make sure it's unavoidable. He's relentless. Just look at you and Dean."

"Touché," Castiel conceded; she had a valid point.

"This day is going to go by slowly—I just know it. Chips?" She offered a bag to Cas, but he just shook his head.

"I'm good." He held up his coffee, but Anna ignored the gesture and tossed the bag to him.

"You're not living off coffee for the day," she berated lightly. "You need to have something to eat."

"And chips suffice?" Castiel teased but took the bag. Anna shrugged and bit into a chip from her other bag. "Didn't have time to make anything," she explained, "And if I'm dealing with Frankel, I need comfort food, not food I'm supposed to eat."

"Just to let you know, I'm taking my lunch later; I'll eat then." Castiel checked his watch; they still had five minutes left before their break ended.

"Mm-hmm," Anna smirked and crossed her arms over her chest challengingly. "And where is your lunch?"

Castiel shrugged nonchalantly and sipped from his coffee again. "Forgot it. It's not a big deal, Anna," he argued when he saw the woman's head tilt. "I've survived longer hours on just coffee."

"We both know; more times than not you don't take your lunch break. Just take the damn chips, Novak." She pushed the bag until it brushed against Castiel's arm.

Castiel sighed and grabbed the bag, mainly to please Anna. She was right though, he usually got too caught up in his work and forgot to take his lunch break or couldn't if the day was too busy.

"Well, I guess I should head back," he announced once he finished his coffee. According to the clock hanging next to the door, their break was about over.

Anna grumbled a "Fine" and pushed out her chair. "Hopefully he'll go on his lunch soon and I'll get some quiet. Anyway." Anna tossed her coffee cup in the trash and grabbed her bag of chips from the table, "See ya." She waved to Castiel and as she exited the room.

Cas went to the coffee machine again and poured himself another cup and a second cup.

When he got back, Dean was spinning in his chair, looking bored. He noticed Cas' return and let his eyes follow Castiel as he walked back behind the desk.

"Here," Castiel handed Dean the other cup of coffee. "I know you won't go on lunch until later." Both Dean and Cas had a terrible habit of working straight through their whole shift without stopping. "You need to have something." He also tossed the chip bag onto the desk and took his seat.

Dean thanked Cas and took a sip of the coffee. He seemed to be in a better mood now, Castiel observed. On more than one occasion, Dean would greet him with a sarcastic remark when he returned after leaving for some time, but not today.

"You missed it," Dean spoke up after a few minutes. "Victor brought in some douchebag who was streaking up and down Clinton; lost a bet to a friend of something." He chuckled as he remembered the scene that had played out for him. "Jerry's got the unfortunate honour of interviewing him. But hey, easy for us—he didn't have any possessions to hand over."

"Real mature Dean," Castiel rolled his eyes. "Did anything… Less exciting happen?"

"Yeah, couple of college girls for shop lifting. Amelia is taking care of them. But I think it was all a misunderstanding—they'll probably be kicked free." Dean grabbed the bag of chips and held them up, "Are you having these?"

"No," was all Dean heard before he opened the bag. "These are all broken," he complained, pulling out a half-broken chip, but popped it in to his mouth anyway.

SB SB SB

The rest of the day was typical. They had a few more people come in, mainly for petty crimes, but there were certainly some interesting and colourful people out there.

Castiel was the victim of a few crude jokes from an intoxicated male, which resulting in Dean stifling a laugh, and Cas giving him a very subtle kick to the shin.

By the time five o'clock came, both Dean and Castiel were ready to go home. The shift, overall, had gone surprisingly well. It was probably the most civil they'd been with each other in weeks.

Dean was actually in such a good mood, he took Victor up on his invite to get drinks. Castiel still declined. Dean and he had a decent shift—they were both in good moods and he didn't want to jeopardize that by "tagging along".

He figured he'd just head home, probably call Gabriel or something. His brother had been bugging him lately that they hadn't talked in a while. Though, Gabe's definition of "a while" was a week. Either way, they were both going to have a few hours away from each other and they were going to enjoy it.