**Author's Note: _

This story is doing so well! Thank you all SO MUCH!

Here's another ch. ! (:

ENJOY!~

Castiel is off today, and he's currently walking down the street towards his favorite coffee shop. It was a long night- one filled with thoughts of Dean Winchester and the previous events of the past two days. He steps inside, ordering himself a tall black coffee and retreating to a corner by himself. Castiel quirks a brow as his phone vibrates.

It's a text- and it's from Dean, "Cas- you have to do me a favor."

"Favor?" He replies.

The message is almost instantaneous, "Yes! I'm being interviewed by some magazine that rhymes with pigeon or something. It's awful!"

Castiel chuckles as he realizes who is interviewing him- and he understands Dean's panic. They were horrible in so many ways- "What do you want me to do, then?"

"Anything! Call or something- give me an excuse to leave! I keep telling them I'm texting my agent over something- so roll with that!"

Castiel smiles and types in Dean's number, hearing the phone connect soon after the first second of it ringing, "Hello?"

Dean sounds like he's in pain from being interviewed, and Castiel almost laughs, "Is this good enough?"

"Yes- I understand. I'll tell them, thank you."

Castiel is biting his laugh as he hears Dean excuse himself and sighs as he exits some building, "Thank fucking God, Cas! I owe you one."

"I did just save you from Perdition, Dean." (Thank you Sharon for the idea for this sentence!)

He hears him chuckle, "I think it's funny you know who I'm talking about."

"That's because they're terrible. I don't even know how they're still running."

"Agreed."

Castiel chuckles, "So- what are you doing now that you're not being tortured rather than interviewed?"

Dean snorts, "I'm just walking around New York I guess- and it seems that this is backfiring on me- Oh my God Dean Winchester!"

Castiel is laughing now, some people turning their heads towards him in the cafe, and so he quiets himself. He hears Dean deal with the fangirls and send them on their way- a smile on his face the whole time.

"Sorry about that- can't even walk down the damn street."

"You sound like you're in a good mood."

Dean chuckles, "I actually am- I just like to curse like a sailor."

"Really?"

Dean seems to be running now, and Castiel doesn't know from what, "Yes I do- where are you, Cas?"

"A cafe on West 20th Street. Why?"

"Because of reasons-" Dean sounds like he's jumping over a fence, "and Cafe Grumpy? I love that place!"

Castiel smiles, "So you've been here before?"

Before Dean responds on the phone, the bell over the door rings and Castiel looks up. Dean's standing in the doorway smiling and answering him, "Yes- I have."

He walks over to Castiel's table, the other people eyeing the two and whispering as Dean sits himself in the chair across from the writer. He sets his phone back into his pocket and smiles.

"So- how are you, Cas?"

"I'm doing okay-" he chuckles, "and you look a little winded."

Dean smiles, his breath bellowing out, "I know. That's because I just did some parkour to get here."

"Parkour?"

"Fans."

Castiel smirks, "I see- so you ran away from them."

Dean looks taken aback, "No I didn't! I just simply- okay, I did."

Castiel is laughing now, Dean's baritone mixing in. The writer is sure that all of the eyes are on them now, and he can hear and see people stopping on the side of the street- can see phones and cameras whipping out and taking pictures. Castiel would usually be afraid or tensed, but as the warm coffee sooths it's way down his throat he can't say he is.

Dean leaves for just a moment, returning with a coffee and setting it on the table, "What did you get?"

"Black."

"Dude- so did I." Dean smiles and so does Castiel.

The writer places his laptop back into his bag, setting it to the side of his chair and returning his gaze to Dean. When he does, the green is twinkling in the sunlight flowing through the cafe windows, bringing warmth to them and shadowing the curve of his lips perfectly. It takes him a moment to recuperate, but he manages without too much blush appearing on his face.

"So Perdition- you did an interview with them?"

"I say yes to anyone who asks-" Dean takes a sip of his coffee, licking his lips, "seems it bit me in the ass this time."

Castiel chuckles, "But I was your saving grace."

"You are," Dean smiles widely, "and I owe you for that."

Castiel raises a brow with a smirk on his features, "How exactly are you going to repay me for that, then?"

Dean leans forward a little, voice dropping and his grin growing slightly, his breath which smells of cool mint and hot coffee reach Castiel's nose, "I may have an idea."

He waits for Castiel to finish his coffee, and the best description Castiel can give him is a child a Christmas. His eye are alight with excitement and his leg is bouncing up and down on the leg of the chair he's sitting in. As soon as Castiel's coffee cup is in the trash can, Dean grasps Castiel's hand and pulls him out of the cafe in a few, quick strides.

"Dean!" he yelps, people stopping and staring as Dean Winchester drags Castiel behind him, "Where are we going?"

"It's December first, right?"

Castiel nods, even though Dean can't see him, "Yeah, it is."

Dean doesn't answer, instead- he keeps dragging Castiel beside him until they reach the Madison Square Park. There's some light snow around, the trees leafless and nothing but branches as Dean stops. There's a clock tower nearby that reminds Castiel of London, and he smiles. It's not the biggest or most well-known park in New York, but he can't deny it's pretty. Dean smiles and opens his arms wide.

"Perfect day to go to the park- am I right?"

Castiel nods, "It certainly is beautiful, I can't say you're wrong."

There's lights strung up in lines above them, as white as the few clouds in the cold sky around them. Dean's walking beside Castiel, a smile wind on his face as they walk in sync. For the first time, Castiel notices how Dean's dressed. He looks like an ordinary New Yorker, a dark green jacket wrapped around himself, and it looks like his hair sparkles in the sunlight and Castiel smiles. Dean looks kind of like a glittered supermodel.

"What's funny?" Dean quirks a brow, looking towards Castiel.

"Nothing just-" he smirks, "why do you have to look like you come out of a damn catalogue?"

Dean laughs, "Thanks- but I'm not that impressive Cas."

Castiel walks a little closer to him, "I wouldn't say that- and even if that were true, you have other things to make-up for it."

"Like what?"

"Well," Castiel smiles and looks away, Dean's intrigue making him snicker, "you've got your humor and a way with words- that's for sure. Besides, you are really down to Earth for a celebrity."

Dean laughs, "Really now? What were you expecting?

Castiel shrugs, "Well- in my job I meet a lot of famous people- get to see them in a light most do not. Like you. Sometimes, what I see is the exact opposite of what I expect. I was supposed to get an interview with Meg Masters- and I was looking forward to it until Chuck convinced me otherwise. She's apparently stuck up and naive with her ego rather than being a person. Instead- I went for you. I'm going to be honest, I was a little judgemental at first. I thought you were going to be like Meg and I have to say- I was completely wrong."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yeah," Castiel smiles, turning to catch Dean's gaze, "it really is."

They are quiet for a moment, walking around with the snow crunching underneath their shoes as they progress through the circle path in the park. Dean is almost touching Castiel is so close, and the writer is having to remind himself that this is the calmest he's ever been in Dean's presence and he needs to keep it up before he goes all faint-spree again. He's so into his thought, that he's caught off guard when a snowball hits his arm.

"What the-" Castiel snaps his head up, looking to see Dean laughing while flickering melting snow off of his fingertips.

"Oh-" Castiel smirks darkly, "it's on, motherfucker."

Dean laughs loudly, holding onto his knees as Castiel rushes over to a pile of snow and making a makeshift snowball from it. Soon, it's flying Dean's way and it hits him in the stomach. People stand by, watching and even laughing as the two throw more and more balls of snow towards each other. Some are even taking pictures- but the two don't care. No- what matters is that they are tied and the snow is starting to numb their fingers.

"Did I make up for earlier?" Dean asks, cupping five more snowballs in his arms and preparing to throw them Castiel's way.

"Not quite!" Castiel already has a pile larger than Dean's ready to go onto the frontal assault, "I'd say we're even when I win!"

Before Castiel can throw another and watch as it hurls itself to Dean's body, he feels it clash into his. His back meets the frozen ground, snow and dead leaves crunching underneath his jacket as he regains some clarity. Dean's above him, a smirk that can rival any Castiel has ever seen before and blow them out of the water on his face as he straddles his hips and chuckles. Is Dean Winchester really- …?

"I win."

Before Dean can do anything, Castiel flips him on his back and is now the triumphant one on top, "That's not fair Dean- you know better. Besides, only when you realize how well your opponent is armed is when you strike."

"You sound like Yoda, dude."

Before Dean can stop laughing, there is more snow in his face. Castiel is laughing out, ringing into the air as he and Dean flop over and over in a twist of limbs, snow, and laughter. A cop comes around, telling them to stop and they literally sprint away as he chases them away from the park. They're laughing, breathless, and entering Dean's apartment.

"That was-" Dean choked out, face rosey and cheeks dark, "amazing."

Castiel nods, "Remind me- to do this- again."

"Again?" Dean perks up, his smile growing wider.

"Mhmm." Castiel shrugs off his dampened and ironically cold coat, "I had a good- time today."

Dean walks over, and he begins to turn on the fireplace when Castiel's phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, seeing there is at least a hundred-sixty-nine unanswered texts and ten calls from Chuck. His breath constricts in his throat as he opens and reads them.

Chuck isn't happy- oh no- he's pissed. As the messages dwindle down and so does Castiel's good mood, Dean walks over to him and quirks a brow.

"Something wrong, Cas?"

"Yeah um-" he grabs his coat, flinging it back onto himself and beginning to shiver, "seems my boss isn't too happy with me right now."

Dean tilts his head, "Why? You haven't done anything wrong, have you?"

Castiel stops at the doorknob, biting his lower lip, "Apparently, our little walk-a-bout today has sent some pictures to him, viral ones, according to him. I've got to go down there right now so he can chew my ass off or I might lose my job."

"It's because of me? …" Dean sounds unlike himself, a little quieter and sorrowful, "Oh Cas- I'm sorry. I should've known better or-"

"No, Dean. It's fine. I had fun and you didn't know. It's okay. I've got to go though-"

"Wait!" Dean hands over his jacket and has a sad smile, "Take this with you, yours is soaked. Leave it here to dry and you can come back and get it- … if you want."

Castiel nods, "Alright, I will."

Then Castiel Novak leaves to get his ass handed to him by his boss, Dean Winchester's coat wrapped snugly around his arms as he walks his way to the elevator.

By the way, Cafe Grumpy and the park are real places. And yes- that's the actual street it's on.
Thanks Google Maps!