Spear of Destiny
By: Ridley C. James
Beta: Tidia
A/N: Thank you to all reviewers. I have been terrible about getting back with you, but it is not out of lack of appreciation. I promise there is action coming in this story. It is a slow build, meandering along really, but please hang on. Believe it or not, a lot of things are being set up for future stories.
RCJ
"One meets his destiny often in the road he takes to avoid it." –French Proverb
"Tell me again why you and Caleb get to sightsee, and Joshua and I are going to visit the Mayor?"
Sam studied Dean over his plate of scrambled eggs, crisp bacon and toast from the complimentary breakfast bar their hotel provided. Travelling with Joshua and Caleb had its advantages. Neither man was willing to stay at a seedy place when one was not forced upon them by 'depravity of locale or monetary restraints,' as Joshua so eloquently explained to Dean when he insisted they stay at one of the nicer places in Tennison.
Dean shrugged. "You and Josh look the part."
Sam added more salt to his eggs. "We look like reporters?"
"Josh prefers 'columnists.'" Dean cut into his second self-made waffle and grinned at Sam. "Columnists from an uptight, right-wing rag, who hang out at Tea Parties in their spare time."
Sam snorted. "So you and Caleb look too much like liberal democrats?"
"Damien and I look like cops. Don't forget we're going into the city as two detectives from the seedy side of Memphis, sent by our concerned Captain, Robert Singer to check out all the work Tennison's finest have been doing to turn their dump of a city around. That way we can cover all our bases in case Jameson's not our guy."
Sam rolled his eyes at the cover story, picking at his buttered toast. "You made sure Bobby knows to expect a phone call from Tennison's Chief, because this isn't some backwoods set-up?"
"How long have I been doing this job, Sammy?" Dean shoved in another bite of syrup drenched pastry, eyeing the waffle maker on the counter with a contemplative gleam. "I have it all under control. Captain Singer is prepared."
"What about Caleb?" Sam hadn't missed the fact their Knight had been strangely quiet through dinner the night before. He would have chalked it up to deference to Dean's request to play nice with Griffin, but the uncharacteristic silence had lasted after their departure, extending throughout the drive to Tennison where upon arrival Caleb didn't even object to being roomed with Joshua.
"Don't worry about Damien. He won't admit it, but he loves playing cop. I think if he hadn't had a juvenile record as thick as the dictionaries Mac used to give us at Christmas, he'd ditched the architect thing and embraced the badge."
"I'm not talking about him doing the job, Dean. You don't think he's acting…off?" Sam couldn't put his finger on it, the sense he was missing something even stronger than before. He tried to blame it on a repeat of the annoying piano dream, the horrible feeling of being ill prepared still lingering over him like a dark cloud.
"Off?" Dean took the last bite of his breakfast, chewing slowly as he regarded Sam.
Sam wasn't sure his brother was purposively being coy or if he was truly overreacting. The trauma of their battle with Lucifer, how close they had all come to the end, haunting him in a way he wasn't even aware, stirring up old memories from a past he'd worked hard to put behind him. "Do you think he hit his head harder than he let on? Maybe I should have…"
"Dude, Castiel fixed Damien's head," Dean interrupted, putting his fork down with a slight smirk. "As much as it can be fixed."
Sam sighed, unwilling to be drawn out of his funk by his brother's sense of humor. He shoved his plate away. "Just forget I said anything."
"You really want to know what I think?" Dean placed his elbows on the table. "I think we're all a little off after what went down. Battling with Lucifer, taking on Michael, not to mention getting used to being The Triad after years of build up. Then there's you moving to New York, going back to school."
Sam groaned as Dean arched a knowing eyebrow. He shouldn't have been surprised his brother was shifting the focus. "You're really trying to make this about me and school. I love school. My life is great, just like I always wanted."
"And here I thought things might have been a little different than you imagined. Because you're different than you were back then. For one thing, you're not running away from something you hate this time, and there's no Jessica."
"This isn't about Jessica, Dean." Sam knew the snap in his tone, the way his fingers tightened into a fist around his fork was belaying his words. "I'm over that. New York isn't anything like Palo Alto." But in a very real way it was far too similar. His friends from Stanford had moved on with their lives long ago, were lawyers, doctors and business men and women, but he still saw them reflected in the faces of the kids he had classes with, heard their voices echoed in lectures, felt their haunting gaze on him as he walked the hallowed halls of a very different institution than the one in which they'd marked time. They had married, built homes, become parents leaving Sam behind with their ghosts. Sam who had been away at war, fighting monsters they would never understand, making sacrifices they could not appreciate-the rest of the world going on in his absence.
"I'll give you that New York's on the east coast. Your new digs, thanks to Damien, are a whole hell of lot nicer than your old crappy apartment, but your roommate is nowhere in the same league as Jess." Dean picked up coffee, took a drink. "I'm just saying that things aren't exactly what I expected, so I figured you …"
"You mean playing house with Juliet isn't all you thought it would be? Just because you suck at having a life, doesn't mean I'm destined to the same fate." Sam knew he was being a dick, the quick flash of hurt in Dean's green eyes a giant beacon pointing out just how much of an ass Sam could be, how much similarity he shared with their father.
"Believe it or not, Sammy, I like my life." Dean put his cup down, glancing over Sam's shoulder towards the doorway. Sam didn't need to turn around to know Caleb and Joshua had entered. Dean lowered his voice, the words more poignant due to their calm, matter-of-fact delivery. "Someday I hope you can say the same thing, little brother."
Sam was the first to break their stare down. He picked up his orange juice, taking a long drink to wash down the golf ball sized lump that had sprung to the back of his throat. He pulled his plate back in reach, digging into his eggs so he wouldn't have to look up at Caleb who would pick up on their emotions easy enough without Dean's kicked puppy look and Sam's guilt-ridden face.
"Someone take away your waffle making privileges, Deuce?" The Knight claimed the chair by The Guardian, glancing to the counter with a frown where a couple of old ladies gathered around the griddle and plastic cups of batter. Sam had a sudden image of Caleb shooing the old women away like some fanatical bodyguard. "I'll fight off The Red Hat Society if you want me to."
"Should I be concerned you know what a bunch of grandmas decked out in weird hats call themselves, Damien?" Dean forced his easy smile in place, flashing his best friend a crooked grin.
Sam fought back a tiny twinge of jealousy, and focused his irritation on something more rational when Caleb snatched the last piece of bacon from his plate.
"This your way of telling me you already worked your way through all the women in New York under sixty?"
"No, you can thank Esme for that bit of trivia. The last time she and Mac invited me to their place, Jocelyn and her chapter were visiting them before touring upper Manhattan."
"If I recall, Mother said you dropped by uninvited, as usual, then took it upon yourself to woo my grandmother's traveling set with your ridiculous attempt at chivalry." Joshua slid out of his overcoat, placing it over the chair closest to Sam. "She told me you provided a guided tour of the Met, dazzling them with your pretentious knowledge of the Renaissance artists I believe, as well as using one of your sordid contacts, no doubt a former sexual conquest, to secure tickets to a highly popular Broadway show the tour company was unable to provide."
"Josh is just jealous I live only a few blocks from our parents and that his grandmother likes me best." Caleb smirked at his stepbrother. "Did Esme happen to mention Jocelyn introduced me as her 'youngest' grandson to all her red-hatted friends?"
"I need coffee." Joshua turned on his heel, moving towards the buffet line with a clip.
"Bring me a cup, and a couple of Danish, Bro," Caleb called after him, a self-satisfied grin gracing his features.
Sam had to give The Knight credit. He was handling his family status with Joshua much better than expected.
"He's far too easy."
"We'll see how you feel when your grandfather Cullen introduces Joshua as a newest shareholder in Ames Industry at the next board meeting." Sam couldn't help himself. The look of panic on Caleb's face was priceless.
Caleb leaned forward. "Did Josh tell you that?"
"Sam's yanking your chain, Damien. Don't worry. Your plan to turn the whole step-sibling thing to your advantage is right on track." Sam stifled a yelp, nearly choking on his last bite of egg when Dean kicked him hard under the table. "I guess that means you're back to your old self and done pouting about spending the evening with Griffin."
"I was not pouting," Caleb defended, claiming Dean's coffee as his own until Joshua returned with his. "Which is more than I can say for The Scholar. What have you two been arguing about that's sent the Runt spiraling into one of his brood fests?"
"I'm not brooding," Sam growled, shooting Dean a look he hoped would implore pity. He didn't think his brother would give a play by play recap of their discussion to Caleb, at least not until Knight and Guardian were alone, but wanted to make sure Dean didn't take their pledge to be completely honest within The Triad to a new level.
"Sammy's pissed because he's playing Jimmy Olsen with Josh while we shakedown the city like Starsky and Hutch."
"I call Hutch," Caleb quickly claimed. Sam didn't bother denying his brother's explanation, considered himself lucky The Knight let it drop in lieu of calling first dibs on what he perceived the better choice between the two 70's cop show stars. "He was the ladies man, and by far the better looking one."
"Starsky had the hot ride," Dean conceded, reclaiming his coffee before Caleb could taint it with his usual three packs of sugar. "So I'll let you have your fantasy that you're the pretty one in this partnership, Damien."
"I knew you'd see it my way." Caleb tossed a gold shield in front of Dean. "Ethan gave me these as an early Christmas present a few weeks ago when we working that gig in Jersey. He has a contact where they commission shields and she did him a favor after he said he wanted to authenticate his and Eli's Halloween costumes. They came complete with false computer files which Riley made sure were implanted in all the important data bases."
Dean flashed the gold detective's shield in Sam's direction, revealing the black lettered name of Starsky and a serial number. "Don't worry, little brother, I'll call Captain Singer and give him our badge numbers."
"Don't feel left out, Sammy. I got one for you, too." Caleb handed over an official looking plastic press pass. "Don't tell him I said so, but Josh morphs into the fucking Picasso of fake ID's when he crosses the threshold of a Kinkos."
Sam took the badge and groaned. "Seriously, man? Newt Romney?"
"What?" Caleb grinned. "You want to inspire confidence with the mayor, right?"
"I tried to get him to go with something less conspicuous, not to mention ludicrous," Joshua returned to the table, bearing only one cup of coffee and Danish, which he quickly marked as his own by licking his tongue across the top of it before Caleb could lay one finger to it .
"Dick head," Caleb growled, pushing away from the table, forced to get his own breakfast.
"Way to throw all Esme's years of table manners and girly etiquette right out the well-bred window, Josh." Dean actually sounded impressed. "Admit it. You watched the movie 'Step Brother's' I bought you."
"Why waste two hours of my life that I would never get back viewing assuredly cinematic rubbish when I have spent years in the company of two overgrown man children such as you and Caleb. I have come away with nothing if not a vast repertoire of childish sibling antics." Joshua took time to unfold his napkin and place it on his lap. "I have a complete arsenal at my disposal. I daresay my mother having been raised in a hunting family, as well as knowing the both of you quite well by now, realizes a soldier, even one as refined as I, must sometimes embrace their enemy's tactics, no matter how vile and disgusting if one hopes to emerge the victor."
"Just beware of paybacks, Sun Tzu," Dean stood pointing to Joshua's cup of coffee. "I'd guard everything consumable for the next few days. Nobody does revenge better than Damien."
"Where are you going?" Sam asked, hoping his voice didn't convey the slight panic he felt. He suddenly found himself almost desperate to make sure things were right between him and his brother. Arguing with Dean was the last thing Sam had wanted for this visit, even if said visit had morphed into an insane hunt.
"Waffle maker." Dean rubbed his hands together, no hint of their earlier discussion or offense to Sam's slight outwardly evident. "The sea of blue hair and red hats has parted and they just brought out more batter."
Sam watched his brother go, joining Caleb at the bar where their heads bent together in quiet conversation. He allowed himself a moment to imagine Dean tattling to The Knight, but knew a more likely exchange involved a wager involving how many chocolate and peanut butter chips Dean could actually add to the waffle mix before it became a gooey disaster.
"It takes so little to amuse them."
Sam turned his attention to Joshua, watching as the older hunter stirred a generous amount of cream into his coffee. "It's like Pru and that little piece of plastic from the milk lid."
"Huh?"
"My cat."Joshua put the spoon on the saucer, picking up his cup. "Never mind."
"Sorry." Sam sighed, his eyes finding Dean and Caleb once more. They were huddled over the waffle maker. "I'm just a little distracted."
"If you're distressed about the ID, never fear. I made you an extra while Caleb was distracted with the Kinko's clerk, who was easily fifteen years his junior, quite possibly a college student, which did nothing to deter his embarrassing flirtation. It is a character flaw however that worked to your advantage." Joshua pulled another pass from his pocket and offered it to Sam.
Sam's mouth twitched when he saw the name, William H. McCarty beside his picture.
"It's a historical falsehood that Billy the Kid's real name was William H. Bonney, you know. In actuality he was born William Henry McCarty." Joshua used a knife and fork to cut his Danish, which Sam found ironic considering his actions only moments before. "The fact few know the true moniker makes it a suitable alias."
"Thanks for having my back." Sam pocketed the pass, along with the one Caleb had made him. The Knight could be irritating, but Sam found it hard to stay mad at him especially in light of his concerns for Caleb's health.
"I was merely trying to save us an awkward moment of explanation when we met with the good mayor this morning. Despite what Caleb thinks, satirical humor is not an appropriate icebreaker, nor does it inspire confidence. How he and Dean continue to get away using such nom de plumes is beyond me." Joshua glanced at his watch, picking up the napkin from his lap to dab at his mouth. "Did you make our appointment with the good mayor?"
"It's at 10:00." Sam nodded, glancing to his watch to make sure he had time to change. It would appear odd if Joshua was dressed in a thousand dollar suit and Sam in torn jeans, NYU tee and flannel. "We have a taxi coming to take us. Mayor Jameson was quite excited to be interviewed by The Conservative. He didn't even question when I explained we would rather conduct the session at his home to get a better feel for his personality and background."
"Everyone is anxious for their fifteen minutes of fame." Joshua pushed the remainder of his Danish away, claiming his coffee. "It seems likely that if he had The Lance it would be at his residence instead of at his office. Providing the right distraction, one of us should be able to search the house fairly thoroughly. It's not like a lance can be tucked away in a drawer."
"We can always schedule a follow-up interview at the municipal building if we don't turn up anything on this preliminary casing." Sam knew that even if they were lucky enough to locate The Holy Lance, there would be decisions to be made. If history proved true, taking the Spear from Jameson could prove as good as signing the man's death warrant.
"My money's on Jameson having it." Caleb reclaimed his seat, offering his opinion on the matter.
"I'm guessing he doesn't even know what he has." Sam shook his head when Dean rejoined them, his plate bulging with a waffle that looked more like a puffy chocolate chip cookie than breakfast fare. Dean didn't seem to notice, pointing a fork at the concoction, bobbing his eyebrows at Caleb. It only proved Sam's theory about the earlier conversation between Knight and Guardian.
"Wonder if that will save him from dropping dead when we relieve him of it?" Caleb asked around a bite of cherry-filled pastry.
"Perhaps we should pose that question to Castiel beforehand," Joshua suggested. "After all, the man has committed no crime or injustice against humanity that we know of; on the contrary it seems he's improved life for those who voted him into office."
"Unless you count being a republican as a crime," Caleb smirked at their Advisor.
"As if you'd have us believe someone from the Ames family would dare hold allegiance to any other party? I'm quite certain Mackland, per Cullen, would have made converting to the Republican Party a condition of your adoption. Bringing a juvenile delinquent heathen into their respectable family was one thing, a democrat quite another. "
"I wasn't talking about me." Caleb shifted his eyes to Dean, who pretended to be focused solely on his waffle.
"You're a registered voter?" Joshua nearly choked on his coffee.
"Don't sound so shocked, Josh. I'm surprised my voting record hasn't been pillow talk between you and Carolyn." Dean shot his Advisor a half grin. "Considering she told me about the huge crush you have on the Second Lady, Jill Biden."
Sam decided he owed Joshua a save. He tapped the table. "There's one thing we haven't talked about."
"Don't worry, Runt, we'll get around to mentioning your embarrassing first love, Chelsea Clinton eventually." Caleb nudged Dean with his elbow. "Remember that coloring book he used to carry around?"
"I'm talking about Raphael, you asshole." Sam found his concern for Caleb wavering.
"What about him?" Dean put his fork down, giving Sam his full attention.
"What are we going to do if he shows up? It's not exactly like we've had any luck in protecting ourselves against angels in the past."
Dean pushed his plate away as if Sam's topic of conversation had killed his appetite instead of the previous waffles he'd consumed. "If we're quick enough, and we get lucky, maybe that won't be an issue."
"And since when have you three ever had luck in your corner?" Joshua arched a brow. "It's like an impoverished family counting on winning the lottery to pay their mortgage."
"We got you for an Advisor, didn't we, Mr. Sunshine?" Dean quipped.
"Not that I'm as paranoid as the runt, but maybe we should kick it into gear." Caleb picked up what was left of his Danish, intent on taking it with him, and stood before Dean could give his two cents on the matter. "We've got a chief of police to talk to, and some local haunts to shakedown. Let's roll, Starsky."
"Hold your horses, Huggy Bear." Sam watched his brother take one more bite of his waffle, washing it down with the last gulp of coffee before pointing a finger at him. "You two stay sharp, and check in after your visit with the mayor."
"How long have I been doing this job, Dean?" Sam took the grin his brother flashed at having his earlier exasperation tossed back at him for a truce. It would have to do until Sam could find some better way to apologize. He briefly wondered if Tennison had a good bakery. "I have it all under control."
"Sure you do, Newt ." Caleb snorted. "How about hunter with the biggest lead buys lunch?"
"You're on." Sam nodded, thankful for the typical levity.
"Hunters with the most pertinent intel also choose location of said lunch," Joshua chimed in.
"Way to join in, Mama's Boy." Dean grabbed his jacket from the chair, slipping it on.
"I refuse to eat at that chrome covered mobile home some ill-advised philanthropist converted to a diner that you two were eye-balling on the way in."
Sam couldn't hold back a laugh at Dean's feigned look of suffering. "And here I thought you were finally coming around, Josh, really becoming one of us."
"I prefer to maintain some healthy boundaries where our relationship is concerned, as well as unclogged arteries, thank you very much."
"You don't seem to mind sidling up to my brother." Sam was surprised when Dean switched his attention to him. "Don't think I haven't noticed the budding Bromance you two have going on."
"Leave him alone, Deuce. Carolyn's probably put him on a strict diet and given him orders to align himself with the one member of The Triad who's turned off by all things fun. With a friend like Sam there's no reason to worry about gambling, booze or attention from the ladies."
"Seeing as how she couldn't exactly choose his family, who could blame Carolyn for wanting to be more selective with his friends." Sam snarked back, finding himself feeling more and more foolish for thinking Caleb was off his game.
Caleb grinned, tugging on Dean's jacket to get him moving. "What woman doesn't want her husband being best pals with a geeky, asexual recluse who thinks there's a place for vegetables on pizza and sprouts and cucumbers on a sandwich?"
The look Caleb shot Sam over his shoulder as he and Dean took their leave was proof The Knight had meant for his comment to be loud enough for Scholar and Advisor to hear.
"I heard that." Sam felt all of twelve again, but couldn't help himself. He turned to Joshua. "Your brother is a complete ass."
"No need to remind me of the unfortunate side affect of my mother's betrothal. I'm quite aware."Joshua stacked his plate on top of Caleb's, adding them both to Dean's in an attempt to tidy their mess. "At least intent on a mission, whether that be to thwart rogue angels or annoy you, Caleb is more himself."
Sam met Joshua's gaze. "What do you mean?"
"I mean Caleb seems extremely determined to make himself more maddening than ever."
Sam frowned, glancing over his shoulder to the door where Caleb and Dean had exited. He thought about the conversation he'd had with Dean, and the likelihood that Caleb gleaned more than Sam had suspected. Subterfuge was a skill both Guardian and Knight excelled in. "Does that mean you've noticed Caleb's been off?"
"If by 'off' you mean did I find it odd he didn't throw his typical temper tantrum when you insisted on his coveted position of 'shotgun' last night when we left Griffin's, or that I wasn't subjected to a dramatic outpouring of how he was being forced to room with me instead of his best buddy, Starsky, then yes, I've noticed something was somewhat amiss." Joshua finished the last dregs of his coffee. "What did Dean say on the matter?"
Sam sighed. "Dean thinks we're all a little bit off-he's blaming the near apocalypse."
"We did defy impossible odds." Joshua seemed to entertain the idea, rolling it around in his mind as if considering the potential spin as plausible.
"So you think Dean's right, that we're all suffering from some sort of post trauma."
"Not all of us, of course. After all, you and I concluded just last evening that our lives are quite perfect."
"Right." Sam smirked, wondering if he was completely transparent. "I forgot."
"But for the sake of argument, if we were by chance off our game, as The Knight so obviously is, the lingering distress may be not so much from the horrors we endured, but quite possibly from the futures we are now free to consider."
"I'm not sure I'm following you."
"We've all gotten if not what we've always wanted, at least more than we could ever have hoped." Joshua pulled at the sleeves of his dress shirt, running a finger over one silver cufflink. "Perhaps we've fallen victim to that whole 'be careful what you wish for' dilemma. We have been granted a gift, an entirely new lease on life, and there is no one to blame but ourselves if we screw it up. The pressure to succeed our predecessors is mindboggling."
"You think Caleb's worried about fulfilling his duty as The Knight?" Sam couldn't even begin to consider Joshua's suggestion, would have laughed at The Advisor if not for his look of complete sincerity, as if perhaps he'd lost sleep pondering the explanation. "I hate to break it to you, Joshua, but Caleb has never doubted his ability or his destiny to be The Knight, not once since I've known him. I think he instinctively knew what his role in The Brotherhood, hell, in his life, was to be before anyone even gave him a clue and he's never faltered. No one is more confident, more satisfied or more hopeful in how things have turned out, or how the future will go."
To Sam's surprise, Joshua ceded his postulation without further argument. "You're right, of course." He gave a heavy sigh. "Lucky bastard."
Sam's mouth twitched, his burden feeling somewhat lighter despite the fact Joshua hadn't offered any helpful insight. Maybe knowing he wasn't the only one concerned was enough. He once again wondered at the circumstances that drove Joshua to join them on the hunt. "Have you ever heard of a little thing called projection?"
"Perhaps I should ask you that same question?" Joshua snapped and Sam could practically feel the other man's defenses reinforcing.
Sam frowned, his own insecurities flaring. "Now you sound like Dean."
"Believe it or not, I have had worse things said of me."
"I don't find that hard to believe, but I thought we were talking about Caleb."
"Fine." Joshua lifted his hand in surrender. "If my suggestion is so ludicrous and self incriminating, Dr. Freud, then I am quite anxious to hear yours."
"I think he hit his head." Sam shrugged when Joshua's look of indignation turned to one of incredulity, making him feel every bit the moron. "I mean, I know he hit his head. I was there."
"You're postulating that a concussion is to blame for this peculiar behavior?"
"Well, Castiel fixed the concussion," Sam grudgingly admitted. "Dean made him."
"Then why are we even considering it as a factor?"
"Also a point Dean made," Sam growled. This conversation was going nowhere. Sam wasn't about to launch into how his concerns were mostly based on a foolish dream about a piano recital and memories from a long ago hunt. Nor would he entertain the idea that perhaps he was imagining Caleb's issues as a way not to focus on his own. Sam was the logical Scholar after all.
"And I'd have to maintain Dean's point a valid one considering the fact Castiel as we are all well aware can accomplish such feats as liberating a soul from Hell, and manipulating time travel."
"You really know how to make a guy feel stupid, you know that right?" Sam glanced at his watch; thankful time was demanding he head back to his and Dean's room to change for the meeting with Jameson.
"Missouri has assured me it's a useful talent when it comes to working with obstinate men in power." Joshua seemed to take Sam's not so subtle hint. He pushed his chair away from the table and stood, waiting as Sam did the same. "As far as I'm aware an Advisor's helpful criticisms aren't limited to The Guardian."
"Missouri's spoon didn't seem to have a bias." Sam found himself fighting back a grin despite his frustration as an image of Joshua wielding the former Advisor's instrument of correction filled his mind. "I guess your biting sarcasm shouldn't be any different."
"I remember Missouri using her unique methods on your father and Bobby, have gleefully witnessed countless interventions with Dean and Caleb, yet I've not once felt the sting of her recrimination." Joshua lifted a challenging brow. "You?"
"Never." Sam smiled, understanding he was at least being offered a unique white flag from The Advisor, yet another reminder of their unforeseen commonality.
"Another validation that I obviously made the right choice in which Triad member to partner with."
"You mean my lack of knowledge of all things fun wasn't what sold you?"
"I'll admit your conservative, burgeoning on prudish nature is somewhat of a plus in my book but I'll admit it's your above average intelligence that sold me."
Sam wasn't sure if Joshua was kidding, until the Advisor favored him with a rare grin. "However, I must warn you that if I'm forced to eat at that moving health violation I may have to reconsider and take Carolyn's sentiments under advisement."
"Carolyn doesn't like me?" Sam drew up short.
"She likes you." Joshua motioned him along, passing the registration desk. "But in her own words, you're a bit too much Mr. Darcy for her taste."
"Huh?" Sam sputtered, following after Joshua as he led the way to the elevator.
"One of her Pride and Prejudice analogies, of which there are a great many I assure you." Joshua entered the open car as several more ladies wearing red hats exited with a round of laughter and a cloud of perfume. He stabbed the button for the seventh floor. "I had to break down and read the damn novel, as well as several other Austen sagas in hopes of making since of some of our more recent discussions."
"I'm still not following you."
"What it means is that unfortunately, Carolyn, like my grandmother, like your brother and like Caleb himself, find Caleb's virtues many. She's enchanted, bewitched really." The elevator stopped, the doors opening with a ding. Sam started forward but Joshua blocked him from exiting. "I'll consider it an unforgivable transgression of Brotherhood if Caleb ever hears I admitted such folly on her part."
"Really?" Sam shook his head. "The last thing I need is for Caleb's idea of how awesome he is to be validated and worse inflated."
"Of course." Joshua nodded. "One more reason I chose you."
Sam snorted. Maybe Dean was right. If this weekend was any indication, Sam's life was most definitely not turning out how he expected. "So much for all my hard work to become an asexual recluse who likes vegetables on his pizza and sprouts on his sandwich."
To be continued…