A/N: Love you all - thanks for hanging in there with me.

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

"Yes, that may be true, but I still need numbers on Singer Industries," Castiel said, tilting his head as he listened to the response on his mobile headset. "Very well ... I have them from London, but the numbers from Tokyo will be next. I will call again when I need them. Thank you."

Tapping his headset to end the call, Castiel pulled it from his ear and looked over at Dean's laughter. He smiled at the young man sitting on the floor in front of the TV with the remnants of the champagne and what looked like most of the candy contents of the mini-bar. Dean's legs were stretched out in front of him and he leaned back on his arms. He occasionally nibbled on a piece of red licorice between laughs. Castiel looked at the screen and was surprised he actually recognized the Roadrunner cartoon. Dean's snickers burst into full-blown laughter at the antics on the TV. Castiel made notations to himself on the report he was reviewing – iPads and laptops were all very well but Castiel preferred to work on hard copy when he was in the final negotiation stage of any project.

Dean looked over and grinned. "Hey, Cas, I got a little carpet picnic goin' on here ... sure you don't want a drink?"

Castiel chuckled and shook his head while writing. "I am high on life, Dean, can't you tell?"

Dean snorted, flipped over on his stomach and went back to watching the cartoon. "This is funny, man ..."

Castiel huffed a laugh and put his report aside. He watched, noting Dean's completely abandoned enjoyment of the moment. He moved to another chair where he could see Dean more easily. Dean had pulled off his shirt and Castiel studied the lines of his body. His neck and chest arched upward gracefully as he looked up at the TV ... his spine dipping in a long, smooth line to curve upward to his backside, so enticingly clothed by the tight jeans that hugged his strong legs and finally his bare feet, crossed at the ankle.

Dean laughed again and glanced over at Castiel. The room was dark except for the TV and the table lamp Castiel had left on. Dean lowered his eyes but when he looked back up, Castiel was still watching him. Dean found himself feeling almost shy, an emotion he was very unfamiliar with when it came to a client. He set the glass aside and pushed up on all fours. His mouth quirked as he crawled over to where Castiel sat, saying nothing and just watching. The blue eyes were intent on Dean's every move. As Dean's hands slid up Castiel's thighs, he felt the growing arousal and a faint smile emerged.

Reaching over, Dean muted the TV and settled himself between Castiel's legs. He undid the man's tie and pulled it off before slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. He pulled Castiel's hips down a bit as he unzipped his pants and worked the belt open. Castiel mused over how incredibly attractive he found Dean. They'd met only hours before and Castiel knew less about the man than anyone he'd ever taken to bed before. He found himself disliking the anonymity ... his thoughts were drawn back to Dean as the man leaned into Castiel and gently stroked fingertips along Castiel's jawline. Hazel eyes drifted over Castiel's face before meeting his gaze.

"So whaddya want, Cas?" Dean said softly.

Castiel regarded Dean's expression – intent but there was a hint of a smile teasing at the corner of his lips. He smirked. "What do you do, Dean?" Castiel asked.

The smile emerged from one side. "Cas, baby, I do everything ... except I don't kiss on the mouth." Dean's fingers were ghosting along Castiel's throat.

"Neither do I," Castiel agreed.

He watched the top of Dean's head as lips, far softer than Castiel would have imagined, began kissing their way down his torso. He intended to remain more of a detached observer, but Dean's fingers slid his boxer waistband down and released his very involved erection. A sharp inhale followed as wet heat surrounded the head and Castiel's eyes slid shut.

Standing under the strong water pressure of the shower, Castiel rinsed his hair and stood wondering about the night's events. He replayed everything in his mind and found himself smiling about most of it. Dean was indeed talented at his chosen profession.

Getting out, Castiel dried off and pulled on one of the large robes provided for his use. Dean, Castiel noticed, slept like he did most everything else – without reservation. He lay on his stomach with his arms tucked beneath a pillow. His mouth was slightly open, his breathing deep and regular. He seemed very peaceful and the hard edges of his life did not mar the handsome face for once. Castiel smiled and went back into the other room to work.

Early the next morning, Castiel paced the room with his headset back in place. His lawyer, Crowley was talking about Robert Singer. Castiel chuckled.

"Of course, Singer will fight. This company is in his blood – I doubt he's ready to have his name removed from the stationery," Castiel said. He signed a check for the bellhop that had just delivered breakfast. The young man nodded and left. Castiel sipped at a glass of orange juice while Crowley spoke.

"Castiel, darling, I don't think it's a good idea to meet with him," Crowley said around a mouthful of toast. He slid his hand over his cup and waved away the maid trying to refill his coffee. "I wouldn't do this."

Castiel chuckled. "Of course you wouldn't, Crowley. Set it up for this evening anyway."

"Castiel ... it's really not a good idea for you to meet him alone," Crowley protested. "He's feisty ... if you say the wrong thing we could end up in court!"

"Crowley, there will always be a possibility that things will go wrong – which is why I am so fond of this." Castiel paused, then with a sombre tone to his voice he said, "Oh, Crowley ... about your car ..."

Dean, who was walking out of the bedroom in one of the bathrobes stopped with a frown at Castiel's words. On the phone, Crowley groaned. "Oh no ... what?"

"It corners like it's on rails," Castiel said. Dean smiled silently ... he was really starting to like this guy.

"What? What the hell are you talking about, Castiel? Castiel?"

Castiel ended the call and looked down at his iPad and the WSJ morning edition. He turned when Dean said, "Uh, hi."

"Good morning, Dean."

Dean looked uncomfortable. "Hey, uh – you didn't wake me ... you're busy ... give me a sec and I'll be outta your hair."

Castiel frowned. "There is no hurry, Dean. Are you hungry? I assume ... well, you should at least sit and have something to eat." He gestured to the table in front of him. "I did not know what you would like so I took the liberty of ordering everything on the menu."

Dean gawked. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, croissants, juice, coffee ... it was like the breakfast buffet of his dreams. Dean looked at Castiel and saw the man seriously meant for him to eat, so he grabbed a pancake, threw two sausage links on it and rolled it up. He walked out onto the balcony while he ate. Castiel's voice drifted after him.

"Did you sleep well, Dean?"

Dean chuckled. "Yeah ... way too good, man. Forgot where I was." Dean had awakened disoriented. The hotel sheets here were far too clean and the mattress much too soft. The pleasant muscle aches in his body had reminded him of the activities of the previous evening. Then he'd realized he was still in bed when he should have been long gone.

Walking back into the room, Dean rolled his eyes when Castiel teased, "Forgetting your surroundings must be an occupational hazard."

"Yeah ... somethin' like that, Cas," Dean lifted one hip onto the table beside Castiel's morning paper and coffee. "Did you sleep?"

Castiel bit back annoyance. "Um, yes ... a bit ... on the couch. I had some more work to do last night."

Dean frowned. "You don't sleep, you don't do drugs, you don't drink," Dean glanced at Castiel's plate and the scattered remains of a croissant. "You barely eat. What do you do, Cas? Cuz I know you're not a lawyer."

Castiel looked up at the curious hazel eyes. It was hard to maintain any irritation but he decided to make his point anyway. "That is correct, Dean. There are ... four other chairs here." Castiel indicated the table.

"Huh? Oh ... yeah, sorry."

Dean slid off the table and sat down quickly, ducking his head. Castiel inwardly cursed himself for being abrupt. Dean, however, simply made himself another sausage and pancake roll-up and poured himself a glass of orange juice. "So ... what do you do, Cas?" Dean's curiosity was apparently genuine.

Castiel scrolled down on his tablet before answering. "I buy companies."

"What kinda companies?"

Castiel looked up. "I purchase companies that have financial difficulties."

Dean nodded. He swallowed. "If they're in trouble, you get 'em for a bargain, don't ya?"

"Yes," Castiel said with a smile. "The company I am purchasing this week will only cost me five billion."

Dean choked on his sausage and had to suck down a large gulp of orange juice. "Bil – five billion dollars?"

"Yes."

Dean considered this before exhaling loudly. "Wow ... you must be a freakin' genius!" Dean sighed. "I only made it through 11th grade but I got my GED last year."

Castiel saw the pride in that statement and he smiled. Dean was a very intriguing young man.

Dean wandered into the bathroom as Castiel was getting ready. "So, Cas ... you don't have five billion dollars, do you?"

"No," Castiel replied, working on his tie. "Banks and investors, mostly. It takes a great deal of ... persuading."

Dean considered this. "You don't make anything and you don't build anything?"

"No," Castiel said, annoyed that his tie was crooked.

"So what do you do with the companies once you buy 'em?"

"I sell them," Castiel said.

Dean slid in front of Castiel and took the tie in his hands, he deftly straightened the knot. "So you sell them ..."

"I don't sell the entire company – I break it up into smaller pieces. That way it is worth more than the whole."

Dean grinned. "So it's like choppin' a boosted car and selling off the parts?"

Castiel blinked. Hearing his life's work broken down to such simple ... and tawdry ... terms was a bit disconcerting. "Yes ... sort of. But my ways are legal." He looked at the tie. "Hmm ... not bad, Dean. Not bad at all. Where did you learn to do that?"

Dean moved around Castiel. The sound of surprise in Castiel's voice did not escape him. Again, the smart-ass in him came out. "Well, you know me – kinda fucked the debate team in high school." Castiel gave Dean a pained look. Dean chuckled as he came back with Castiel's suit coat. He snorted at Castiel's expression. "Yeah, yeah ... my kid brother was on the debate team. He's smart as a whip but he couldn't put a tie on right to save his freakin' life. Mind if I take a swim your tub before I go, Cas?"

Castiel frowned. He found he was not as indifferent about Dean leaving as he had hoped to be. "No ... Dean, please go ahead." He turned back with a faint smile. "Stay in the shallow end."

Dean laughed as he closed the bathroom door.

"Yes?" Castiel tapped his headset.

"Castiel ... I'm heading out the door, darling. Wanted you to know Singer is set for this evening." Crowley said.

"Good," Castiel replied.

"He's bringing his step-daughter of all things – grooming her to take over or something," Crowley said with a hint of distaste.

Castiel thought for a moment. "Oh yes ... very intense young woman name Joanna."

Crowley sighed. "Castiel, again ... I'm not comfortable with you going alone."

Castiel opened his mouth to say something and was interrupted by a high-pitched voice drifting from the bathroom.

* ... lyin' alone with my head on the phone, thinkin' of you till it hurts ...*

Curious, Castiel walked to the bathroom. The voice continued singing. * ... I'm all out of love ... I'm so lost without you ... I know you right, believing for so long ...*

"Castiel? What is that horrid noise?" Crowley asked. "Has a cat been run over?"

Castiel smiled, looking at the scene before him. Dean had filled the tub with bubble bath – he leaned against one side with an iPod carefully set up out of range of the water and his headphones on. His eyes were shut as he sang – Castiel was a bit confused at the choice of songs ... Dean did not strike him as an 80s love song sort of man. All Castiel could see of him were his knees and his head poking through the mass of bubbles.

"Housekeeping is singing, Crowley."

"Ah ... well, I wish you would at least take a date to the meeting tonight – keep it social." Crowley said "I know a lot of nice girls, Castiel."

Castiel chuckled. "No you don't, Crowley. Besides, I have a date." He moved farther into the bathroom. "Just concentrate on finding out what Singer is up to." Castiel ended the call and stood looking down at Dean who had a rather odd expression on his face as sang.

*Oooh ... what are you thinkin' of ... *

About that time, Dean opened his eyes and saw Castiel sitting on the edge of the tub with an amused look on his face. He jerked the headphones out of his ears and blushed. "Damn it, Cas! You can't just sneak up on a man when he's ..."

"Singing an 80s ballad by Air Supply?"

Dean glared. "Yeah ... whatever ... don't you knock?"

Castiel crossed his arms. "Dean, I have a business proposition for you."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "Ok, whaddya want?"

"I will be in town until Sunday. I would like you to spend the week with me." Castiel watched Dean's face carefully. He was pleased to see a shy grin appear.

"Really, Cas?"

"Yes – I would hire you as an employee," Castiel explained. He ran an idle finger through suds on the tub edge. "Will you consider this, Dean? In essence, I will be paying you to be at my beck and call."

Dean chuckled. "Cas, as much as I'd love to be your beck and call-boy ... you're a good-lookin' rich guy. You could get a dozen girls – or guys – for free."

"I would like a professional ... to avoid any romantic entanglements," Castel said.

Dean swished his hands through the bubbles. "If you're talkin' 24 hours a day, Cas ... it'll cost ya."

Castiel grinned. He knew when he'd closed a deal ... now all that remained was working out the details. "Of course, Dean. What would you estimate your time to be worth? A ballpark figure, as it were."

"Six full nights ... days too ... four-thousand," Dean said.

Castiel frowned. "Six nights at three hundred is eighteen hundred."

"Said you wanted days too, Cas."

"Two thousand."

"For this adorableness? Three thousand."

"Done."

Dean blinked and slid under the sud-filled water. Castiel heard a muffled shout and two fists broke the surface to punch the air. Castiel laughed again. Dean surfaced blowing suds from his lips.

"I take it that means 'yes', Dean?" Castiel asked, amused.

"Yeth ... " Dean wiped off more bubbles. "Yes!"

Dean got out of the tub and pulled on the robe again. He followed Castiel through the hotel room as the man rattled off his day.

"I'll be in various meetings throughout the day, Dean. Here ..." Drawing out his wallet, Castiel handed Dean several hundred dollar bills. "Buy some clothes."

Dean gaped. "Dude, don't you believe in plastic?"

Castiel continued as if he hadn't heard Dean. "Most probably you will accompany me out during the evening – you'll need something to wear."

"Like ...?"

"Nothing too flashy or ... sexy. Do you understand?" Castiel glanced up at Dean, who nodded.

"Boring."

"Conservative. Any questions?" Castiel said as he walked to the door.

Dean smirked. "Can I call you Cassy?"

"Not if you expect me to respond, Dean."

Smugly, Dean leaned against the wall watching Castiel. "I woulda stayed for two-thousand, Cas."

Castiel paused and turned back with a smile . "I would have paid four, Dean."

Dean laughed. "Cas, baby, you're never gonna want to let me go."

Castiel regarded Dean quietly. "Dean, it's three thousand for six days and I will let you go." He smiled again and left, closing the door behind him.

Dean stared at the door for a moment before shrugging off the melancholy that Castiel's words left in his chest. "Maybe, dude – but I'm here now ..."