Castiel absently types away on his computer, when Ava's head pops up over the cubicle divider.

"You going to the staff meeting today, Cas?" She asks.

"It's required, isn't it?" He replies, not looking away from the screen.

"Yeah, but they're making a big announcement today," Ava says, a devious glint in her eye. Castiel stops typing and looks at her. "We're getting a major blast from the past."

"What are you talking about?" He asks turning his chair in her direction.

"A certain someone is returning to the anchor desk," Ava says in a sing-song voice. "I'll give you three guesses." Castiel's expression falls. He knows exactly who she is talking about. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn't be talking to Castiel at all.

"Oh no," he murmurs. "Why? I thought he was in New York?"

"Well, I guess when you forget that you're miked and call a congressman a 'festering twatwaffle', your job security gets thrown out the window." Castiel looks at her in shock.

"He did what!?" Castiel exclaims, trying to hold back a laugh.

"Oh my god! You didn't know?!" Ava shouts, causing several other heads to pop up over the cubicle dividers and take notice. "How did you not know? It's been like the biggest video on Youtube for weeks. Just google 'news anchor twatwaffle'." Castiel wants to comment that it might be a first for google when their executive producer Chuck passes by his cubicle, banging on the wall.

"Staff meeting, guys," he says. "We've got a lot to cover. Let's get a move on." Castiel grabs his ledger and a pen and follows his boss and Ava into the large conference room.

It's packed with people, more so than usual. Castiel squeezes in next to Ava and the other segment producers as Chuck begins the meeting.

He can't help thinking about what Ava said. They wouldn't let him come back, right? After everything that went down? He dreads the thought of being in the same room with him, or worse, having to do a story together. Castiel cringes at the thought. He prays that Ava was exaggerating. She love to gossip and will believe almost anything anyone tells her, like that time Gabriel convinced her that she'd fry her hard drive if she googled "Google."

The staff meeting passes without incident, Chuck distributing assignments amongst the group, and Castiel is about to breath a sigh of relief when there is a knock on the conference room door. Chuck looks up, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Perfect timing," Chuck says, waving someone into the room. Everyone turns to see who it is. As he does, Castiel feels like the floor drops out from under him.

"Everyone, we have some wonderful news," Chuck continues. "Bartholomew Harris has come back to Jacksonville and he will be returning to the anchor desk this week. I hope everyone has a chance to welcome him back." There is a soft murmuring amongst the group. Bartholomew stands there, looking typically non-plussed. Castiel attempts to look busy, hurriedly scribbling something on his pad, but he can feel the other man's eyes boring into him.

As Chuck dismisses the meeting, Castiel scurries out, rushing back to his desk. He hopes that Bartholomew will be too busy catching up to notice, but as soon as he arrives back at his desk a familiar, expertly-quaffed head of hair is there to meet him.

"Hey there, Castiel," Bartholomew drawls. He looks the same as he did 8 months ago: perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect complexion, exactly what the typical news anchor should look like. His smile is bright and genuine, and there was a time when that same smile had Cas melting where he stood. That was a long time ago, though. Castiel steels himself as he approaches his desk.

"Hello, Bartholomew," he says coolly. "How are you?"

"I'm well," he replies with a nod. "It's nice to be back home."

"I'm sure it is," Castiel mumbles. He presses past Bartholomew into his cube, hoping he might take a hint. Instead, the other man just spins on his heel and watches Castiel, leaning against the wall comfortably.

"How have you been, Cas?" Bartholomew smiles lasciviously and Cas feels like he can read his mind.

"Fine," Cas offers curtly, unlocking his computer. He knows Bartholomew is waiting for him to say something more, but Cas won't give him the satisfaction. After the way things ended, the last thing he wants is history repeating itself. Especially if he plans on continuing things with Dean.

"That's great to hear," Bartholomew replies. "You know, I thought about you a lot in New York. There's so much there you would just love." Castiel grits his teeth and stares intently at his computer.

"What do you want?" He mutters, eyes not leaving the screen.

"I just want to talk," Bartholomew replies with a shrug. "Thought we could get together, grab a meal, maybe a drink-"

"No," Cas says flatly.

"Cas, c'mon-"

"Bartholomew, the answer is no." His voice is firm and unwavering. Castiel can see him flinch minutely, the mask of geniality wavering for a moment.

"Why are you angry, Cas?" He asks sincerely. Castiel gapes at him in disbelief, dumbfounded by the gall of this man.

"Are you honestly asking me that?" Cas hisses. "After everything you did?"

"I did?!" Bartholomew asks in surprise. "You're the one who dumped me, remember?"

"And you're the one who couldn't handle it like a fucking adult, Remember?" Castiel reminds him, much louder than intended. The volume level of their conversation is beginning to attract attention and Castiel can see the top of Ava's head popping up over the divider wall. For the first time, the smile falls from Bartholomew's expression. He opens his mouth to speak, when Castiel's phone graciously begins to ring, Dean coming to life on the screen

"Excuse me," Castiel stands and exits the cubicle. "I need to take this." He dashes down the aisle toward the exit door, answering the phone as soon as he pushes through it.

"Hello, Dean," he says, surprised by his relief as soon as he hear's Dean's voice.

"Hey Cas," Dean replies. "I'm sorry to be bothering you at work-"

"It's no trouble at all," Castiel assures him. "What's going on?"

"Um, are you working tonight?"

"Not currently," Cas answers as he mills about the hallway. He glances out the window at the glittering river winding through the city. "Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner," Dean says. "I was planning on lighting up the grill, cooking a couple of steaks."

"That sounds wonderful, Dean," Cas says genuinely, leaning against a window. "Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Just you," he replies. "I get off work at 5:30. What do you say to 7?"

"That sounds perfect. I'll see you then."

"I'll text you my address," Dean offers. They say their goodbyes and Castiel is sure his blush is radiating down to his toes. He hangs up and turns, unexpectedly startling at Bartholomew standing in the doorway.

"Who's Dean?" He asks, a humorless smile spread across his face. Castiel stands silent, weighing the consequences if he answers or not.

"It's none of your concern." He finally answers moving past him and back into the newsroom.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Bartholomew follows after him.

"Again, none of your concern," Castiel repeats, not looking back. He finds his desk and attempts to get back to work as Bartholomew sidles up to the doorway.

"Well then, who is he?" he interrogates.

"Why do you feel the need to know?" Castiel huffs, remembering what a frustrating asshole Bartholomew could be.

"Just need to know who my competition is," he offers with a nonchalant shrug. Castiel laughs bitterly.

"Oh my God! There is no competition here!" he cackles. "My love life is not a game, and even if it were, you would not even rank as a contender!" Bartholomew frowns deeply, creases flawing his features.

"Castiel, c'mon! As a friend-"

"We're not friends!" Castiel finally snaps. "You made that very clear to me when you broke your promise and then broke my confidence! What I do in my free time is 100% none of your fucking business!" It's clear that he has gotten most of the newsroom's attention, and Bartholomew looks taken aback by the outburst.

"Now if you don't mind," Castiel collects himself, smoothing down his dress shirt, "some of us have to work a little harder than just looking good for the camera!" He can hear Ava's giggle from beyond the partition and Bartholomews offended expression has him holding back his own grin.

The anchor tromps off without another word and Castiel exhales in relief to be rid of him, finally able to get back to work.


Dean is carefully mixing marinade for tonight's steaks when his cell phone chimes a text alert. He wipes his hands and picks up his phone. Sam's name is emblazoned across screen with four words written beneath it: "I am so sorry".

"What?' Dean wonders aloud, confused as to what his brother means when his phone comes to life "Mom Calling" flashing across the screen.

"Hey, Mom," Dean says as he answers the phone.

"Hi, Sweetie. It's so nice to hear from you." His mother's voice is tinged with a hint of playful sarcasm. His parents don't live that far, just a few hours south in St. Petersburg, but Dean doesn't visit as often as he probably should. Nor does he call often enough for his mom's taste.

"So how are things?" She asks. Dean knows this is Mary Winchester's code for "Have you met someone?" but Dean's not biting. Not today.

"Good. Things are good," Dean says, walking into his living room. "We have state exams coming up. You know how much of a pain in the ass prepping for those are?"

"Uh-huh," Mary mumbles dismissively, clearly not getting what she's looking for. "Anything else?"

"I think I may need to replace the transmission on the Impala," Dean answers. "Can you ask dad to talk to Bobby. Maybe he can find one in the junkyard-"

"Dean," his mother cuts him off, her tone serious. Dean sigh and crashes down on his sofa.

"What, mom?" He ask resignedly.

"I spoke to Sam earlier."

"Yeah?" Dean tries not to sound too obvious that he is very aware of that fact.

"He mentioned that you're seeing someone?" Mary's utter shock is evident in her voice and Dean feels slightly insulted by this for some reason.

"I think Sam in exaggerating," Dean answers, trying to keep his tone light. "We've been on two dates. That's all."

"Two dates with the same person, though?"

"Yes, Mom," Dean laughs.

"Well, all relationships have to start somewhere," Mary reassures. "Now, tell me about her." Dean stiffens at that, unsure of whether or not to correct his mom.

"Mom," Dean hesitates as he tries to think of what to say next, "there's nothing to tell. We've only been on a couple dates!"

"So you're dating then?" She asks hopefully. Dean scrubs a hand down his face in exasperation.

"Why do you do this, mom?" He mumbles.

"Do what?"

This," Dean emphasizes. "You get all… loopy when you think I've met someone."

"I'm am not loopy, Dean Winchester," Mary hisses, irritation clearly evident in her voice.

"Fine, not loopy, but… You get excited ok? Every time I start seeing someone, you automatically start asking if they're 'the one?' and 'When I'm going to introduce you?'"

"I do not do that!" Mary insists, "and even if I did, what's wrong with wanting to see my children happy?"

"Nothing, Mom, but it's stressing me out." Dean admits, walking into the kitchen. "We've seen each other twice. That's it! I don't even know if we're actually dating yet." It's a lie, Dean knows. He already feels like part of a couple, even if he and Castiel haven't discussed it. He pulls the steaks from the meat drawer and opens up the package.

"Dean, I know I may seem a bit… eager, but it's only because I care about you," Mary sighs heavily. "But I trust that, if this girl turns out to be something special, you will bring her over for dinner as soon as possible." Dean cringes at the word "girl", but still doesn't correct her.

"Anyway honey, I'm just calling to say hi and… Oh, your dad just walked through the door. Do you want to talk to him about the Impala?" Dean sighs and agrees and his mom hands the phone over.

Dean and his dad chat for a few more minutes as he finishes marinating the steaks and placing them back in the fridge. As he says his "goodbyes" to his dad, Dean leans over the kitchen counter and rubs his eyes. A pang of guilt settles in his stomach for fibbing to his parents about seeing a girl rather than a guy. He never outright said Cas wasn't a girl, but it's still lying by omission.

Dean doesn't think his mom will have a problem with it; his mother is the most accepting soul Dean has ever met. His father, though, would be less enthusiastic on the matter. Dean couldn't imagine the look on his ex-Marine father's face if he brought Cas over for dinner, their hands intertwined.

Dean huffs to himself. It's too early to think about this. He's just getting himself spun up over what, in fact, might not be an issue. He picks up his phone and scrolls through his 'recent calls' list, dialing Sam.

"You son of a bitch,' Dean mutters angrily into the phone as soon Sam picks up.

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sam rambles. "Mom just started in about when Jess and I are going to get married and I panicked. I needed to deflect!"

"By throwing me under the bus!?" Dean argues. "Great job, Benedict Cumberbatch!"

"I think you mean Benedict Arn-"

"I don't care, Sam!" Dean interupts. "You owe me big time, you know that?" Sam is quiet on the other end.

"So what did you tell her?" Sam asks after a moment. Dean groans.

"I told her she's jumping the gun," he replies. "I mean it's only been two dates, there's no need for her to start picking out china patterns. This relationship, or whatever it is, will happen on its own."

"Did you happen to mention that Cas is a guy?" Sam inquires.

"I kind of avoided that topic," Dean admits, rubbing at his neck.

"How come?" Sam asks. "Mom wouldn't care."

"You're right. She wouldn't," Dean agrees, "but she would tell Dad."

"No, she wouldn't," Sam scoffs.

"Yea, she would, Sam!"

"What makes you think that?" Sam asks.

"Because Mom has infinite more faith in Dad than either of us," Dean says sadly. Sam hums in agreement; Mary's unshakeable good nature bordered on naivety at times, especially when it came to John Winchester.

"Well, if this goes on much longer, you're going to have to tell her," Sam reminds him. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah, well, I'll stick a pin in that 'til then, ok?" Dean heaves himself upright. He spots the potatoes on the counter and checks the clock on the stove; he has just enough time before Cas gets here. "I hate to cut this short Sam, but I have some cooking to do."

"Is Cas coming over?" Sam teases. In spite of himself, Dean grins shyly.

"He is, as a matter of fact," Dean replies. "I'll talk to you later Sammy. You owe me, don't forget!" They hang up and Dean slips his phone in his back pocket. He turn on the kitchen sink, plucking up a pair of potatoes and scrubbing them clean under the running water.


A few minutes before 7 there is a knock on the front door. Dean is just taking the baked potatoes from the oven. He quickly sets them on the counter and throws off his oven mitts and heads to answer the door.

As he opens it, Dean can't help smiling at the site of a slightly-disheveled, but happy, Castiel standing in his doorway.

"Hello Dean," he greets as he steps inside, taking a second before deciding to step forward and press a soft kiss to Dean's lips. Dean kisses back chastely, his hands coming up to Cas's arms and holding him in place.

"Hi," Dean mumbles as Cas pulls away a few scant inches. He lets his hands fall, capturing one of Castiel's as it does. "C'mon, everything's almost ready." They walk through Dean's living room toward the kitchen. The TV is on with the volume low, muted action happening across the screen. Castiel stops short as he see Bartholomew's beaming face looking back at him. His face goes blank and he feels his irritation from earlier roiling in his gut.

"You have it on the news," Cas says absently. Dean glances at Cas and then at the TV.

"I guess it is," he mumbles. "Wasn't really paying attention. Just had it on for the noise." Castiel jaw clenches minutely and he looks at Dean.

"Would you mind if we changed the channel?" He asks, trying to keep the plea out of his voice, "I just… I don't…"

"Want to get away from work, huh?" Dean supplies. Castiel exhales and nods in relief. Dean picks the remote up off the couch and switches off the TV, before turning to Cas with a warm smile.

"Let's get those steaks on the grill." Castiel follows Dean into the kitchen, where he takes a proffered beer, and then out to the balcony. The evening is long and warm, a sign of the summer to come. Castiel relaxes in his chair, letting the tension of the day seep from his bones as he quietly sips his beer and watches Dean carefully set two steaks on the grill.

Dinner is nothing short of amazing. Castiel can't help groaning a little at his first bite, much to Dean's pleasure.

"Good then?" He asks.

"Fourth date, you're cooking again," Castiel mumbles happily between bites. "You still owe me burgers." Dean eyes light up at the mention of another date and he tucks into his own food. They chat idly as they eat. The conversation is easy, but Castiel is distracted. His interaction with Bartholomew hangs at the forefront of his mind.

"You doing ok?" Dean asks. "You seem uneasy about something."

"Just work things," he replies. It's not really a lie, but he knows he feels dishonest saying it. Dean watches him for a moment and it's clear that he doesn't entirely believe Castiel.

"Anything you want to talk about?" Dean asks gently. Cas looks up at him before reaching out and squeezing his hand.

"Not.. right now," Cas replies. "Maybe later, ok?" Dean nods and rises from the table, grabbing up their empty plates. Cas follows him into the kitchen, watching as Dean cleans off the dishes and deposits them in the washer.

"Um… are we dating?" The questions comes out of nowhere and it catches Castiel off guard. He opens his mouth to answer but then closes it again.

"I mean, are we like exclusive?" Dean clarifies. "I don't know if you want to see anyone else-"

"Yes, Dean we're dating," Castiel cuts him off with a soft laugh. Dean smiles bashfully and nods. "Why are you asking?" Dean looks up, pressing his lips together into a hard line.

"I talked to my mom today. More specifically I was grilled by my mom about my love life," he admits. "My brother let it slip that I was seeing someone."

"Oh," Castiel says, "and you wanted confirmation of that fact?" A wry smile plays at his lips.

"Well, yeah," Dean says with a snort, "um… She said she wants to meet you." Castiel's brows draw together, but Dean holds up his hands in a placating gesture.

"I know, I know, it's very soon, and I told her as much," Dean assures. "But that's her go-to response whenever I'm in a relationship."

"No, it's sweet. It sounds like she's looking out for you," Cas says, taking a step towards Dean and clasping his hands. "And whenever you want to introduce us, I'm game." Dean sighs gratefully and lets his head fall onto Cas' shoulder. They stand there for a long moment in the peaceful calm of the kitchen, the muffled sound of osprey calls audible through the window. Cas rubs his thumbs lightly along the top of Dean hands and he can feel Dean nuzzle softly into his neck.

"There is one more thing I should tell you," Dean lifts his head up and looks Cas in the eye; his expression is not reassuring. "My mom's exact words were 'if this girl is something special, you'll bring her over as soon as possible'." Castiel frowns in confusion, not quite understanding what Dean is saying, when it dawns on him.

"Dean," he starts slowly, "if you told your family I'm a woman, then I have vital information I probably should share with you." Dean shakes his head emphatically.

"I never mentioned a gender," he insists, rubbing at his forehead. "I just never corrected her when she did." Castiel considers him intently; it's clear Dean is embarrassed of his behavior, but he is more curious as to why.

"Are you… are you not out to your family?" Cas asks. He's had flings with closeted guys in the past, but those were always solely-sexual things where words like "exclusive" and "relationship" weren't tossed around. Dean lightly bites at his lip, avoiding Castiel's eye.

"It's not that I'm not out," he begins. "It's just that… until this point it was a non-issue. I've always known what I liked, and I've never made a secret of it, but I've never…" He trails off. Cas rubs his shoulder lightly.

"You've never been in a relationship with a man?" He supplies. Dean shakes his head. "Do you think they'd… not be accepting?" Castiel can't hide the tinge of worry in his words. It's clear that Dean cares a lot for his family and what they think, and part of Castiel worries that he would be dropped if they didn't approve.

"Sam already knows," Dean replies. "Apparently, he's always known. My mom would probably be surprised, but supportive once she got used to the idea. My dad, though…" Dean doesn't finish his thought, looking away glumly. Castiel takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck and letting them hang there languidly.

"Hey, whatever you want to do ok?" He offers. "If you want to keep this under wraps until-"

"I don't." Dean says seriously. "I don't want to keep you underwraps. I like you a lot and I don't want to pretend you don't exist. I want to introduce you to my family, as my boyfriend, at the same point in a relationship as I would with a girl.

"I know this is an uncomfortable conversation, but I want to be honest with you." Dean smiles at Cas, "you deserve that. You don't deserve to be hidden." Castiel grins shyly and he can feel Dean's finger tipping his chin up for a kiss.

They kiss lazily, Cas pressing into Dean against the counter. Dean's cools fingers trail underneath the hem of Cas' untucked dress shirt, causing a shiver to run through him. He sighs and deepens it, tightening his hold around Dean's neck. Dean responds in kind, pulling Cas' hips in closer until he can feel the hard outline of Dean's shaft through the layers of fabric between them.

"You know," Dean mumbles against Cas' lips as he pulls away from the kiss, "I could do this all night, but I did make us some pie for dessert." Cas laughs to himself and rests his forehead against Dean's.

"Do you always cook like this?" he asks. Dean squeezes his sides and shrugs.

"Only for people who are amazing," he says. Cas goes in for one more small kiss before Dean presses him away to get the pie from the fridge.

They spend the rest of the evening eating pie, watching movies and intermittently making out. At one point Castiel slots his leg between Dean's, earning a low groan from the man before he pulls back, mumbling something like "better slow down."

Castiel settles in-between Dean's legs, his back against Dean's chest as they watch the rest of the movie. It isn't long before he feels the steady rise and fall of Dean's breathing and glances behind him to see Dean passed out cold.
Castiel smiles to himself sadly. Being with Dean is just so easy and uncomplicated, but his relationship with Bartholomew had started the same way and look where that went. Castiel has to force himself to shake those thoughts from his head. Nothing good comes from comparing your past relationships to your current one.

Castiel curls deeper into Dean's embrace, letting himself enjoy this moment a little longer.