I've always found it interesting that there have been various people Sam could happily end up with – Jess, Lori, Sarah, Madison, Ruby, Amelia, Jo, Amy… Circumstances, not Sam's character (who he is) are what have kept them apart. Yet Dean's only been happy with Castiel. All the other people introduced as Dean's solid love interests – Cassie, Jo, and Lisa – have never worked out because of who Dean is, not because of circumstances. There's only ever been Cas.

And now I'm getting mushy and romantic. Somebody shoot me with rock salt.

"Son of a bitch!"

Dean rubbed his head, glaring up at the car he was currently lodged under. He'd grown up at Bobby's auto repair shop, working on the cars from the time he was ten, but for some reason he always managed to bang his head at least once a day.

It really didn't help that he was distracted.

It was a Saturday, which meant he didn't have to go into the office, even though he was still on-call. This, in turn, usually meant lazy morning sex followed by a large breakfast and a day at the garage, fixing up cars with Bobby. Ash and Jo were often there, gossiping like old maids while Charlie read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo or Malazan: Book of the Fallen. But while so far everything had gone according to schedule, Dean found he couldn't relax.

He blamed his current train of thought.

He didn't regret what he'd said to Cas last night. There had been such vulnerability in Cas's eyes, a kind of tremble in his voice that Dean couldn't deny. He'd thought he was the only scared one in this relationship; the only one sucked in deep and worried about coming up for air. When he'd seen that Cas felt the same…

No. He regretted nothing. He loved Cas, and nothing was going to change that. Cas was sweet and supportive and annoyingly educated, and fucking deserved to be running Novak Enterprises no matter what that asshat Zachariah said, and he was the single most adorable and sexy human being Dean had ever laid eyes on.

So what in hell was this Seraph thing?

Sure, the guy was probably hot, going by the skintight suit. But Dean saw plenty of good-looking men and women on a daily basis and none of them sparked anything. Cas could be a fucking cocktease but he could turn Dean into a babbling mess in two seconds flat, and those hot blue bedroom eyes made him honest to God weak at the knees.

Long story short, there was absolutely no reason for Dean to be drawn to Seraph. He couldn't even say he had a crush on the guy. It was more like… like he was someone Dean had once known but hadn't seen in years. Every time he saw him there was this itch in the back of Dean's neck, like there was something important that he was forgetting. And there was that magnetism, that force drawing Dean in against his will. It was definitely something more than lust… but Dean couldn't place it. And it was bothering him. In fact it was nearly five, almost time to call it quits, and he'd spent the entire day worried about it.

"Dean?"

Jo poked her head underneath the car. "You have a phone call."

Dean frowned. "What is it?"

"Apparently you've been left a note at the signal. It's from Seraph."

Castiel hadn't wanted to get Dean involved, but he saw no other choice. If Asmodeus's plan was as far-reaching as his team's research suggested, then the Gotham PD was going to be involved whether Castiel wanted them to be or not. He might as well forewarn Dean.

In the meantime, he had to track down Night Spectre. She was a new villain, only coming in Gotham in the last week, and fit the bill for Asmodeus's second in command. Now that Dean would be informed about Night Spectre and the possibility of Asmodeus, Castiel felt a little more at ease about the situation. Whether he believed it himself or not, Dean was more than capable of handling his new position.

Landing beside the signal, Castiel was surprised to see that it was already on. He half-expected it to be a box or something similar from Roman, another conundrum as a clue to solving whatever crime the rogue was going to perpetrate next, but instead there was a small envelope. The word Feathers was written in red ink, the handwriting elegant. It had been years since he'd seen that writing, but he recognized it immediately.

Castiel opened it carefully, aware that it might be booby-trapped. Inside was a letter, written in the same elegant scrawl.

Angel

If you wouldn't mind stopping by my office sometime, I have some information that you'll find useful.

By 'sometime', I mean as soon as possible. Time isn't on your side, darling.

The letter was signed by an even-sided cross.

When Dean got out of his car and started walking up the steps to Headquarters, he found he wasn't alone. The extremely perky and blonde-haired Becky Rosen, star journalist of The Gotham Times, was trailing him with her recorder in hand. Besides being the girlfriend of the newspaper's editor, Chuck Shurley, she was one of the single most determined people Dean had ever met, and definitely the most annoying.

"Commissioner? Commissioner Winchester! A quick word?"

Dean ignored her, picking up his pace a little.

"Commissioner – how are you liking your new post? How are you getting along with the Mayor? You haven't granted a single press release or interview since you were given the job; are you feeling incompetent?"

Dean wondered if he would go to Hell for punching a girl.

"What are your views on Seraph? Is he truly Gotham's guardian angel, or a dangerous vigilante? What about his sidekick Valkyrie?" Becky went on. "Do you think he's associated with the vigilante the Interrogator, and do you condone her more brutal methods?"

That did it. Dean turned around and snatched the recorder from her hands, speaking into it a little more harshly than was necessary. "Look, I don't know what the rest of the world thinks, and I don't care; that guy saved my life, and he's saved the lives of half the people in this city whether they know it or not. I do my job and he does his, and so far he's been nothing but respectful towards us. As for the Interrogator… she's not like him. They don't use the same methods, and she's sure as hell not respectful of the GPD. I appreciate my criminals delivered in one piece, not bleeding out of their eye sockets. The crime rate is down by twenty percent since he started patrolling, and it's going to go down another twenty if I have any say in it."

Dean shoved the recorder back at her. "There's your interview, Miss Rosen," He growled. "Now get out of my way."

He didn't wait for her to move, shoving past and walking as quickly as he could into the building.

Castiel landed noiselessly in the office. "Crowley," He graveled.

"Ah, my second-favorite vigilante," Crowley said airily. "I trust you got my message?"

"Why else would I be here?" Castiel replied.

"For my charming personality and the free cookies?" Crowley offered, putting his feet up on his desk.

Castiel allowed himself a frown. "Why did you call me here, Crowley?"

"Always business with you," Crowley sighed melodramatically. "I have some information that you need very badly."

Castiel's frown deepened. "You don't want anything in return?"

Crowley waved a hand. "You'll owe me a favor."

If Crowley was offering information for free – or, at least, putting payment on hold – then it must be big.

"What is it?"

Crowley laced his fingers together. "There's a new villain in town–"

"Night Spectre. I know."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Old news, love. Her name's Lilith, and that's all I can learn. She's planning something big."

The true name of Asmodeus's assistant was helpful, but the rest he already knew. "If you're only going to give me information I already know–"

"Did you know she has a mole in the D.A.'s office?"

Castiel paused. His surprise must have shown on his face somehow, because Crowley gave a low chuckle.

"Weren't expecting that, were you darling?" Crowley straightened up in his chair, resting his feet on the floor. "You see, Lilith is a part of Asmodeus's group. Old news, I know, but what nobody knows is that Asmodeus doesn't like to do the dirty work himself. He convinces other people to do it for him. The best sort of trick, they believe: get people to destroy themselves."

"What does she want with the D.A.'s office?" Castiel asked.

"Supposedly the leader they want is one of the employees there."

"Who?"

Crowley spread his arms wide. "That's all I know, Angel boy."

Castiel glowered. "You better not be holding out on me, Crowley."

Crowley sighed. "Now, Seraph. What would I get out of a destroyed Gotham? I make deals. I'm a businessman. World destruction is not my area."

"Does Naomi know?" Castiel had yet to talk with her.

Crowley sighed again. "No. She wouldn't know how to handle it, honestly. I hate to say it, but you're the best chance we have."

"I'll take it as a compliment."

"Please don't," Crowley replied.

Castiel grunted and turned to go.

"If anything else turns up, inform me," He said over his shoulder.

"Of course. Because my openness now isn't an indication of my lenience," Crowley replied sarcastically. "I will expect for you to repay me someday. It might be on the behalf of someone else, but it will be repayment."

Castiel should've known the bastard would find a way to keep Naomi out of jail. "You're saying I should let her go?"

"Don't most people get a warning for their first offense?" Crowley replied cheekily.

Castiel restrained himself from punching Crowley's smug face and made his exit. He took his frustrations out on a local meth gang instead, although he sustained a good few hits to the abdomen.

He would have to talk to Gabriel and get some inside intelligence on the D.A.'s office. He needed to find out who the mole was, and who they were planning to use as their puppet.

Dean's shoulders visibly sagged as he entered what he had dubbed 'the living room', although Cas insisted it was the second sitting room. It was the only room in the house that had a television and wasn't annoyingly formal. Sure, the other rooms were lovely, but they weren't comfortable.

Cas was sitting on the couch, watching the television. When he saw Dean he stood up, turning it off and making his way over.

"You're on the news," Cas said mildly. "Apparently you caused quite the stir today."

"Trust me, she had it coming. Shurley's sent that little bloodhound to sniff at my heels for the last however many weeks, and she's more annoying than my neighbor's yippy little Chihuahua," Dean grumbled, wrapping his arms around Cas and burying his face into his shoulder. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of Cas. It was warmth and comfort, but strange and unearthly, all at once, like he smelled fresh earth and sharp ozone, stars and cut wood, at the same time.

"Besides," He continued, talking into Cas's shirt, "The guy deserves a little good PR now and then. You should hear Raphael talk about him – like he isn't worthy to lick the douchebag's shoes. And you should see the beatings he takes. The other night it looked like he could hardly stand upright."

Cas nodded, turning his head so that his stubble scraped Dean's cheek. "I agree with you," He said, starting to take a step back. Dean held on tighter, needing an anchor after the exhausting day he'd had. Cas sucked in a breath.

"You okay?" Dean pulled away, concerned. Once again there was something new shining in Cas's blue eyes. It was like Dean was gazing into a deep ocean. He knew the bottom was there, but he couldn't see it. He wondered if he would ever find what lay in its depths.

"I'm fine. Got cocky and went a few rounds with a guy at the gym. I should've stuck to swimming." Cas grinned, but there was a twinge in the corner of his mouth.

Dean felt a rush of anger for whoever had dared hurt Cas, a rush that was greater than anything he'd felt for Thursday. Even though the goons the vigilante had taken out had intended to kill him, and the guy at the gym probably didn't even know Cas was hurting that much, Dean felt a possessive fury take hold.

Cas must have noticed – he always seemed to read Dean like an illustrated novel – because his face morphed into a stern mask. "I'm fine, Dean. I can handle myself."

"I know." It didn't change how he felt. He couldn't stand to see Cas hurt. "Do you want me to put some ice on it?"

"Already did," Cas replied. "How was the rest of your day? Is Raphael still giving you trouble?"

Dean shook his head. "Oh no. You're not talking to your adopted brother for me – or Michael, for that matter. I can fight my own battles."

"I know," Castiel replied. "I'm just curious. Anything interesting that doesn't involve my stuck-up family?"

"Got a cryptic message from Seraph," Dean replied. He wished he could tell Cas what it had said.

"Top secret, I presume." Cas sat back down on the sofa, waiting for Dean to join him so that they could curl up together. Dean obliged him, tangling their legs and looping his arms around Cas's middle.

"Unfortunately. Did you stop by the Foundation today?"

Cas grimaced. "And NE. I tried to talk to Zachariah, but…"

Dean frowned. "You gotta stand up to that dickhead, Cas. You've said it yourself – he's taking Novak Enterprises in a completely different direction from what your parents wanted. I'm not Sam, I don't know legal stuff, but you said the company was originally set up so that the Novak kids own it, right?"

Cas chuckled. "Basically, yes."

"Gabriel sold you his share, Lucifer's was cut off when he ran away, and Michael and Raphael haven't done anything with theirs in years, right?"

"Well, yes. I now own the most shares in the company, if that's what you're getting at."

"So you can just waltz in there and take it over," Dean announced triumphantly.

Cas looked scandalized.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Cas, you don't have to wait for Zachariah's go-ahead, or anyone else's for that matter. You can take NE and bring it back. Become CEO or appoint a new one. Whatever you want."

"I don't know, Dean…"

The hesitance, the uncertainty, was heartbreaking. Dean cupped the back of Cas's head, bringing their mouths together and licking deep into Cas's mouth.

"You can do it, Cas," He whispered. This was the guy who read the stock exchange like it was a Dick and Jane book, studied sociology books for fun, and stole his heart; Cas could do anything.

"Promise me you'll get what you deserve," Dean ordered. "Because you definitely don't deserve to be miserable and watch your parents' legacy be stripped away."

"I promise." Cas was chuckling, rumbling the words into the hollow of Dean's throat.

Victory, Dean thought, letting Cas suck a hickey into the side of his neck as he sank deeper into the couch.

"But only if you promise to stand up to Michael. If he makes a pass at you one more time I'll deck him myself." Castiel's voice held a warning note.

Dean sighed. He knew when he was beaten, which with Cas was pretty much always. "I promise."

Cas, pleased, rotated so that they were facing and immediately set about unbuttoning Dean's shirt.

Dean reminded himself to go into work early tomorrow; he had to look up who this Asmodeus guy was. The letter had been brief, saying that the man was a criminal who held a lot of power in Asia, was coming to Gotham in order to destroy it, and would arrive soon. Not much for Dean to go on, in other words. He had a feeling that if he wanted better answers, he was going to have to find them himself.

Damn vigilantes and their cryptic information.

"I thought you were on his side," Cas said, and Dean realized he'd said the last part allowed.

"Doesn't mean he's not allowed to piss me off," Dean grumbled.

"If you're still able to think about work, I'm not doing a good enough job," Cas quipped.

Dean grinned. "Bet you can't make me forget my name."

While Dean might or might not have forgotten his own name, he definitely remembered Cas's – enough to scream it out, anyway.

Raphael set down his briefcase on his desk, using his thumb to put in the combination.

"Mr. Novak."

Raphael did not jump, to his credit, but his head did jerk up rather quickly. "How did you get in here?"

"Don't bother reaching for the emergency alert button," Castiel informed the D.A. "It's been temporarily disabled."

"And I presume you've done something with Uriel?"

"Your bodyguard will come to in about half an hour."

Raphael's face would have scared most full-grown men. "What do you want?"

"I want you to let Commissioner Winchester do his job," Castiel growled. "He is my ally, and an attack upon my ally is an attack upon me. And you do not want to attack me."

Raphael snorted. "You've broken more laws than even I can name, vigilante, and you come to lecture me? I can bury you, publicly, any day I want."

"Maybe," Castiel conceded. "But today, you're my little bitch."

He tossed the photo he'd been holding at Raphael, who caught it quickly. Castiel had always known Michael and Raphael had teamed up to operate on the shadier side of the street to help their meteoric rise, but he'd hoped he would never have to turn upon his family like that.

It seemed like Dean Winchester made him break all of his rules.

Raphael stared at the glossy image, showing him meeting with mob boss Carmine Falcone. "How did y–"

He looked up to find an empty room.

Naomi Garrison, known to most of the world as The Interrogator, surveyed her work. One criminal down permanently, and the other three strung up with the most recognizably male part of their anatomy removed. They wouldn't be fathering any children any time soon, or exploiting more underage female immigrants, either.

"Naomi," A deep voice graveled behind her.

"Seraph," She replied. "I wondered when you would choose to stop by."

"I hoped that you would decide to cease such methods of your own volition," He said. "I see this is not the case."

Naomi turned, her gaze scarily intense even under her mask. "Just what do you intend to do about it?"

"We happen to have a mutual friend who would rather see you on this side of a prison wall," He informed her. "As a debt to that friend, I am issuing a warning."

It was hard to tell, but she appeared to be raising her eyebrows. "I see."

"Do not torture or otherwise unnecessarily harm the criminals you catch. If you ignore this warning–"

"You'll throw me into Blackgate?" She taunted.

"I'll make sure certain terrorist cells know that the CIA's star interrogator is in Gotham City, posing as a vigilante."

Naomi gaped. "You wouldn't dare."

Castiel stepped closer, his jaw clenched. "Try me."

He spread his wings, taking flight before he allowed her a chance to answer.

"Commissioner."

Dean grit his teeth. "Mayor."

He turned to face the other man, forcing a smile onto his face. You had to give it to him; Michael was a handsome bastard, with a build and facial structure similar to Cas's. But where Cas had those cerulean eyes, Michael's were golden brown like Gabriel's. Still, at least Gabe's eyes held some warmth. Staring at Michael Novak was like seeing Dr. Chill all over again, only without the subzero suit.

"What can I do for you?" He asked.

Michael's eyes raked over Dean's form, as they always did, and Dean repressed the urge to deck the guy. He really just wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, but he'd made a promise to Cas and he was going to keep it.

"Hey." Dean snapped his fingers. "Eyes up here."

Michael looked startled, but in an arrogant way, as if no one had dared to do that before. "I'm sorry?"

"My eyes are up here, Mayor, and you'd better remember it. I ain't a free show."

Michael looked like Dean had slapped him. He doubted that anyone had dared talk to Michael Novak like that in years.

"Of course," The Mayor replied slowly.

"What did you want to see me about?" Dean asked, trying to be professional. Take the high road and all that shit.

"Seraph," Michael stated.

Dean tried to keep his face neutral. "What about him?"

"He needs to be stopped. This vigilante business has gone on long enough. I want you to focus all of your available resources–"

Dean snorted. "Yeah, that's not happening."

Michael visibly bristled. "And why not?"

Dean squared his shoulders. "You've never taken a stand against him before. Why now?" He couldn't resist a grin. "Did he get under your skin?"

There was a lovely tick developing in Michael's jaw. "In a manner of speaking."

Dean grinned wider. "Well, good for him. At least someone around here can stand up to you. Maybe I should follow his example?"

Michael said nothing, but his eyes hardened. Dean decided to go for broke.

"I'm not sending a single one of my men after Seraph. We're stretched tight enough as it is, and I've got intelligence that something big is going down in the next couple of weeks. I'll need all of the resources I've got, and that includes Seraph. He's worth ten detectives, and that's on one of his bad days. And in case you've forgotten, he saved my life. So you can take that idea of ridding the city of its number one protector and shove it up that tight ass of yours. Understood, Mayor?"

Michael stood so stiffly he might have been made of stone. "Understood, Commissioner."

The Mayor turned and walked briskly out of the room, running straight into someone in the hall. Dean heard a familiar rumbling voice and grinned again. He heard Michael say something about "your boyfriend", and then Cas was entering the office, shutting the door behind him.

"I don't think I'll be getting a lot of house calls anymore," Dean informed him.

Cas favored him with a lip-twitch. "I gathered as much. He acknowledged that we are in a relationship, for one."

"That means I can do this, right?" Dean moved forward, using his arms to encircle Cas's waist and pull the man flush against him, nuzzling into the crook of Cas's neck.

"Dean," Cas chastised. "You're at work."

"And I'm the boss," Dean reminded him happily. He decided that just smelling Cas wasn't enough, and that he needed to taste him, too.

"Dean," Cas repeated sharply. Dean continued sucking on Cas's pulse point. "We need to talk."

Dean pulled back so fast he almost got whiplash, the air sucked out of his lungs like a vacuum. Cas chuckled, running soothing hands up and down his back. "Not like that, babe."

Dean glared at him. "Don't scare me like that."

Cas merely chuckled again, pecking Dean on the lips. "I'm going to talk to Zachariah today…"

"Good," Dean said.

"…And I need you to come with me."

Dean stared. "What?"

"You don't have to say anything," Cas said hastily. "I just need you there."

Dean frowned. Cas looked… well, Dean wouldn't have believed it unless he saw it, but Cas looked scared.

"Okay, Cas." Dean ran his hands up and down Cas's arms. "Okay."

Cas broke out in one of those wide, beautiful smiles, his entire face lighting up. Dean felt himself helplessly grin back, swept up in the love he could feel radiating from Cas. Such full-blown smiles from Cas were still rare, but Dean was coaxing more and more of them out of him, and he was hopeful that someday they'd make regular appearances.

"All right," He said. "Let's go piss off another person in charge."

Castiel clenched and unclenched his fist, feeling the skin strain and the muscles ache. The bruising on his knuckles had faded enough that he didn't have to wear makeup to cover it up anymore, but his hands were still a little sore. Next to him, Dean was staring in fascination at the television inside of the elevator, having already spent half a minute gaping at the slot where everyone had to insert their keycards in order to activate the elevator.

Castiel wasn't entirely sure where the desire to have Dean with him had come from. Perhaps it was because he'd already dealt with Naomi, Crowley, and his own brother Raphael on his own, and he wanted some backup for this one. Maybe it was because he hadn't gotten any sleep last night between patrolling and discussing Lucifer with Balthazar (how they would deal with him, how they would stop Michael from murdering him or vice versa, how Dean was going to react because there was no way the two would like each other).

Or it could have been the fact that Dean had stood up for Castiel. Dean supported Seraph's actions, and he'd encouraged Castiel to stand up for himself. As a masked vigilante, Castiel had done plenty of standing up to bullies, so to speak. But Castiel Novak had never spoken up for himself in his entire life. Even as Seraph he only spoke up on behalf of innocents.

But Dean… Dean was different. Dean looked at Castiel like he was something valuable, something to be treasured and fought for. He listened when Castiel talked and took interest in what he had to say, even though Dean didn't understand physics or the Dutch Renaissance and never would. Dean believed in Castiel, had faith and trust in him. He dared Castiel to go after what he wanted, to take charge and seize what was rightfully his. Not even Anna or Balthazar had done that, preferring to let Castiel take the lead and following after. Dean took Castiel by the hand and dragged him forward into the whirlwind, full of exuberance and joy.

Everyone believed in Seraph, but Dean believed in Castiel.

It made Castiel want to believe in himself.

The elevator doors opened silently and Castiel strode up to the secretary's desk. He hoped she wouldn't get in trouble for this.

"Please inform Mr. Adler that I am here to see him," Castiel informed her.

Dean's presence at his back was warm and soothing, like a welcoming fire in the hearth.

The secretary pressed a button and informed Mr. Adler that Mr. Novak – the other one, no, yes, that one – was there to see him.

They entered the crisp white office, sparsely decorated, to find Zachariah lounging in his office chair.

"What can I help you with, Castiel?" He asked, his voice and manner stiff. "I was just about to have a board meeting."

Castiel swallowed. This was his father's most trusted board member, and a part of him felt like he was betraying his father by doing this. But he knew that his father wouldn't have agreed with the decisions Zachariah was making, or how the company was being run.

"That's perfect timing," Castiel replied. "Seeing as I will be taking over as CEO."

Zachariah appeared to be choking on his own saliva. "What?"

Castiel nodded, feeling Dean lightly press his hand to the small of his back. "I have a few legal documents here…" He tapped his briefcase. "That will explain it all in much more technical terms but the short version is that as the majority shareholder, I have the power to replace you. I am doing just that."

"But… the board will never go for this!" Zachariah replied snidely, standing up.

"They don't have to. I'm replacing them as well."

"With whom?"

"You might know Hester, the CFO from the Foundation," Castiel said mildly. "And Kevin Tran, head of the Applied Science Division?"

Zachariah's eyes narrowed. "That pup is still wet behind the ears, barely out of high school."

"He's also a certified genius with twice the morals of the entire board," Castiel replied, keeping his voice neutral. "I think the two of them will be enough to start while I contact some of Father's former associates. I notice that you replaced many of them after his death."

Zachariah's voice was cutting and cold. "You can't do this."

Castiel crossed the room, opening the office door in a clear invitation. "Actually, I can."

The secretary stared as Zachariah marched out of his office, his neck red with anger. Castiel followed a short way to ensure that he got onto the elevator. The secretary turned a questioning gaze towards Dean and Castiel.

"Meet the new boss," Dean quipped.

Charlie heard the distinctive sound of Anna's boots as the vigilante made her way down the steps into the cave. "He's not here," She called.

"Who? Castiel?" Anna replied.

"Yes." Charlie spun around in her chair. "He's with Dean upstairs."

Anna smiled and Charlie felt her face heating up. Anna really was beautiful. "Good. That's… that's really good, Charlie."

The two shared a smile. Castiel's mood had greatly improved ever since he and Dean had started dating, and even during patrol he was more relaxed. He'd even chuckled at one of Charlie's jokes the other day.

Charlie twisted her fingers around one another. "So… so how are you doing?" She asked. Getting dinner before patrol had become a regular thing but nothing more had happened between them, and Charlie's stomach was a mass of tight knots.

"I'm okay," Anna said cautiously. "Actually… I was hoping to catch you alone."

Charlie sucked in a breath, then nodded. Anna took a few steps towards her.

"I've been trying to talk to you for a week but… but someone else was always there and this is embarrassing enough without there being a witness," Anna explained.

The knots in Charlie's stomach congealed into a heavy lump of cement. "You don't have to explain," She said. She hoped she didn't sound too miserable. "I know what this is about."

Anna froze, a foot away from Charlie's chair. "You do?"

Charlie nodded. "I'm sorry that I made you uncomfortable, Anna, I really am. It's just… I mean have you seen you? Not to mention you kick butt at Dragon Age 2, you play Dungeons & Dragons, you know how to belly dance for Vulcan's sake!" Charlie threw her hands up to emphasize her point. "I don't know what you'd want with a hopeless hacker geek like me, and I understand, I really do, and if you want me to stop coming to the cave for a while that's okay too, I mean I can hook up the feed from anywhere and–"

"Charlie?"

"Yes?"

Anna was frowning slightly, biting her bottom lip. "What are you getting at?"

Charlie frowned as well. "Um, you realized I have a massive crush on you and you don't feel the same way but you value our friendship and I'm a great person and you're really sorry but it's time to let me down gently?"

Anna lifted up an eyebrow. "You seem to have worked this whole thing out."

Charlie shrugged. "I've gotten the speech a few times before. It's the same old script."

Anna laughed gently. "And here I thought I was going to be the awkward one."

Charlie grinned. "Glad I can help with that."

Still laughing, Anna closed the gap between them, seating herself in Charlie's lap, her legs straddling the hacker. Their pelvises were flush together and their faces were an inch apart and Anna's lips were shiny and glossy and where had all the room in the air gone because Charlie found she really couldn't breathe.

"Charlie Bradbury, I've liked you since you plopped down in this chair and informed me why Star Trek was better than Star Wars," Anna informed her.

"What?" Charlie replied.

Anna laughed again. "Let's just say I have a massive crush on you too and might have spent a great deal of time wondering if I'd ever get to see that Dungeons & Dragons tattoo you've got somewhere on your person."

"What?" Charlie repeated. Her voice was much quieter now, barely a whisper.

Anna leaned forward, and Charlie quickly discovered that Anna's lips were as soft as they looked, she tasted like peppermint, and she gave tiny little moans when Charlie's hands squeezed her hips.

It took a minute for Charlie to realize what that annoying ringing sound was, because Anna had a wicked tongue and Charlie had no intention of letting either of them leave that chair any time soon, but then she realized that the ringing was, in fact, the phone, and it was probably important.

"Fucking Balthazar," Charlie muttered as Anna reached over to grab the phone.

Anna placed a finger on Charlie's lips to silence her, which was hot on several different levels. "Hey, Baz."

There was a pause, and her eyes widened. "What? Here? Now?"

Charlie occupied herself with sucking on the tip of Anna's finger, which made Anna's pupils dilate alarmingly quickly.

"Look, Baz, I'm kind of in the middle of something. Can't Castiel deal with it?" Anna asked.

Balthazar replied, and Anna's eyes narrowed. "I was eight when I last saw him, Baz."

Charlie wondered whom Anna could possibly be talking about.

Anna sighed. "Okay, fine, yes. I'm coming."

"Not yet you're not," Charlie couldn't help but add.

Anna hung up, mock glaring at Charlie. "You and your," Anna waved a hand at Charlie's body, "Are not helping."

"Sorry, baby," Charlie replied with a smirk. She then clapped her hand over her mouth. The endearment had slipped out before she could stop it.

Anna laughed. "C'mon, baby," She said. "You're going to meet my second-oldest cousin."

"Who?" Charlie asked as Anna yanked her into a standing position.

"Lucifer. Now c'mon – the sooner we deal with him, the sooner I can strip that Bring Back Firefly shirt off of you."

Charlie grinned. Long-lost cousin or not; this was turning into a great day.