Dean had hardly stepped back into the office before the others were talking to him.

"Winchester! What was that?"

"Is everything OK?"

"Who was that?"

He ignored them, taking his seat behind his desk and staring at the note in his hand. OK. He could do this. Two words. Two, tiny, one-syllable words.

"Whatcha got there, Dean-o?"

What was he thinking? He couldn't come out now. He had too much going on. What if they were all homophobic, and then he was homeless and hated? What if they saw him differently?

"Uh, n-nothing, guys. Just, some number for a new landlord; he might be able to get me a new place."

"Sweet, dude!" A chorus of cheers erupted from the assembled group, but Charlie's disappointed gaze was the only thing he noticed.

"Charlie, I messed up. Help me."

She just hummed.

"Charlie, please."

"No, Dean."

"…What?"

Charlie sighed, aggravated. "I'm not going to help you, Dean. You dug yourself into this, you get yourself out. If you keep this up, you'll end up hurting yourself, maybe even Castiel, and I think it would save you time and effort to just. Tell. Them."

This wasn't helping. He got up, shoving the remains of his microwave ramen lunch into the nearest trashcan before storming away.

"Hey, Dean, is this the number of that fireman? Or, just someone he knows?"

"Uh, no, that should be his number, why?" Dean was instantly on guard, and his trepidation was apparently well-founded. Benny hit a button on his phone, and the chirping dial tone filled the room.

After a few seconds, Castiel picked up. "Hello?"

Jo spoke up, doing a silly, posh voice. "Hello, sir, my name's Jo, I'm from Apple. We're checking the quality of our user's microphones, and I'm wondering if you have time to help us collect some data? Just a few minutes, please."

Dean was stuck. He couldn't speak up, then his co-workers would get suspicious. But if he didn't stop them, Cas would think he gave them his number to do this.

Damn. He shouldn't leave things on his desk.

Castiel, after a second or so, replied. "…Yes, I can do that. What do you need?"

Jo grinned, and Benny was visibly trying not to laugh. "Well, sir, if you could just repeat some routine phrases after me so that we can affectively test your phone's hardware."

"…Of course." There was a shuffling sound on Castiel's side, which cut off abrupty.

"Sir? Can you still hear me?" Jo cast unsure eyes at the others, but when they just shrugged, she smiled again.

"Yes, sorry, go on."

"Ok. The first phrase I'd like you to say for me is 'What time is it?'"

Cas repeated the phrase, as well as a few every day ones that Jo rattled off.

"Now, sir, can you repeat the correct version of this statement? Either, 'The yolk of the egg is white', or, 'the yolk of the egg are white'?"

Castiel took a second to reply, "I'm sorry, but egg yolks are updog."

Jo was obviously thrown off, as were the others. "I'm sorry, sir?"

"I said, egg yolks are updog."

"I'm afraid I don't—uh…what's 'updog'?" The second the words left her mouth she realized the joke, and gave up, her head hitting the desk lightly.

The reply was muffled snickers from the other side of the phonecall, and a snide, "Not much, what's up with you?"

Loud but far away laughter rattled from the speakers, and Castiel carried on. "Before you try that, please check that you are calling an iPhone, not Windows? Nice try, though." And then he hung up.

Dean chuckled. "Wow, guys, nice one." He was relieved that Castiel had taken that so well. He grabbed the post-it and began to type.

2:34- Hey cas it's dean. Nice one. Sorry, I tried to stop them

It took all of five seconds for Castiel to reply.

2:34- thank you dean. It's ok. You can make it up to me when we go on that date ;)

Dean blushed.

2:35- when and where are we going, anyway?

2:35- Are you free Friday night? As for where, that's a surprise

Dean grinned.

2:36- yeah, I'm free. Pick me up at the station, about 6ish?

2:36- perfect. See you then :)

Friday. That gave him two days. And if the date went well, then maybe he'd consider telling them about it.

When he offered this plan to Charlie, she nodded. "Sounds good." Then she grinned. "But hey, you've got a date! Play-a!" She punched him on the arm affectionately, and he couldn't banish the smirk.

"Sure, Char. We'll see. He could be an asshole, y'know."

"He saved you from a burning building, and he has a cat called Meg. He's not an asshole."

Let's hope so.

The next two days were the quickest and slowest moments of his life. He wanted to tell them all. He wanted to run away. He wanted to crawl into a bed he didn't own, in a room that didn't exist, in a home he'd never have. He longed for something he couldn't say, couldn't imagine.

"Hey, Dean, you OK? You've been kinda…spacey." Kevin asked.

"Yeah, Kev, I'm fine. Just…thinking."

"Well, it'd better be about a case, or I swear, I'll report you."

He smirked, throwing in a wink for good measure. "You wouldn't do that to the best detective in this precinct, wouldya, Kev?"

Benny scoffed. "Sure, brother, OK. But we all know you've got a date coming up, and that's what's really goin' on in there? Thinkin' about your girl, huh?" This was punctuated by a shove to Dean's head.

"Sure, guys, whatever, just catch up on paper work, yeah?" Kevin walked off, probably to moan at someone else. Dean just carried on working.

Friday had arrived. Dean had finished work, and was leaning against the front wall of the precinct. He waved to Benny's car as it left, as he had done with Charlie's, and Ash and Jo's. He checked his phone. 6:30. Cas was late, and with no sign of showing, Dean was ready to give up. Maybe this had been a prank. A tasteless prank, but a prank nonetheless.

He kicked away from the wall, and started making his way to the bus stop. If Castiel wasn't going to show, then he may as well pick up the pace on the new apartment search.

A sort of ugly, beige '78 Lincoln Continental pulled upon the sidewalk. The car barely stopped before Castiel hurtled out of the driver's door.

"Dean! Dean, wait!" Castiel grabbed his arm, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Cas, if you didn't want to go, then you could have said."

"No, Dean, it wasn't my fault. There was a call, I didn't have time to contact you. I apologize greatly, I didn't mean to cause you grief."

Dean looked at Cas, the green of his own eyes meeting the blue of the other man's. He believed him. "OK, but we're even from the phone prank, yeah? I don't owe you now?"

Castiel grinned, and straightened up, brushing imaginary dust from the cuffs of his long, tan coat. "Of course. I was only saving people's lives, but absolutely, your evening comes first. I should have realized."

The utter seriousness with which this was conveyed made Dean snort. Castiel looked relieved. Evidently, dead-pan humour was something that didn't always go down well. They made their way back to Castiel's car, Dean sliding into the passenger side.

"So, Columbo, where to?"

Cas smirked. "I thought you were the detective."

"Damn right I am; best detective in all o' Kansas, if not all America!"

"And yet you haven't worked out where we're going."

Dean was stuck for a reply, so settled on looking out of the window. "Well," he murmured, after a few moments, "we're headed towards the zoo. But, on weekdays, that closes at five, so not there. The only restaurants in that part of town are tourist-y ones, and since you live in Kansas, I doubt we'd go there. There are museums around here, though. I'd pin you as an artsy person, because you had purple paint on your uniform the first time we met. So, art gallery?"

Castiel was silent. "Damn, you are good. Wrong, but good. Close, though. We are going to a kind of museum. But the purple paint on my uniform came from when someone decided to put a pool of dyed foam under the fireman's pole at the station. Tell me, detective, who would have done that?"

Ah. Dean had forgotten that one. "OK, so where are we goin', then?"

The car pulled into a car park, and Cas put the car in park. "This is part one. Dean, you've never been to the planetarium, have you?"