There is some plot between all the fluff, if you squint your eyes and tilt your head. I did actually drop a few breadcrumbs.


"They are so cute together, Raffie. I tell you, I've rarely seen two beings so very well suited to each other."

"This is a great relief to you, I'm sure, Balthazar, considering your history."

"It is true that his happiness alleviates some lingering feelings of guilt, but I find guilt tiresome and am truly happy for my Cassie."

Michael sighed, his heart dropping as he heard Balthazar and Rafael discuss Castiel's happiness with the Hunter. Michael had wanted Castiel for his mate since he had known him in Heaven. Michael didn't harbor any deep feelings for the Seraph; it was more a tactical advantage. Castiel was strong, steady, intelligent, and a natural leader. Michael and Castiel combined would be a force unto themselves. With the absence of the Father, Heaven needed leadership, and Michael had always been convinced that Castiel would help provide that.

Michael's feelings revolted against the union of the Hunter and Castiel. It wasn't just that Michael wanted Castiel for his own, it was that it seemed like such a waste of his abilities. Castiel would hunt for the rest of Dean's life, and then they would go to the part of Heaven where soul mates went. That would be the sad end of Castiel's lifetime of training. If the Father were still alive, he might reimbody both Castiel and Dean so that they could continue to Hunt and be useful to Heaven, but no one had seen Him in an age.

Could Castiel be happy with such a meager existence? And why would Balthazar, the one who loved Castiel best and called him brother, be happy for him? It was beyond Michael. Utterly beyond. He had no time for such frivolities as love. With another Angel, perhaps, but he did not see the point of trying with a Human, and certainly not a Hunter.

Of course, if Castiel was truly happy, he supposed he must be happy for him. Michael supposed he could go and find Castiel to try and see if he was happy. Maybe then he could understand. Resolved, Michael grabbed his jacket and decided to head to The Roadhouse. If Balthazar was anything to go by, Castiel and Dean could be found there most nights.

It took him the better part of the week to finally work up his courage to get there.

}O{

The Roadhouse was everything Michael assumed it would be. Smelly, noisy, horrid lighting, pool tables with dubious stains, and patrons of the most unseemly sort. How could Castiel possibly find this dump inviting? And he had come here on his own before his Awakening had even started. Michael decided that Castiel was stronger than he had originally believed him to be.

He approached the bar and found a set next to a young man with golden hair and kind blue-green eyes. The boy looked surprised to see him, but gave him a warm smile and recommended the stout brunette, which was apparently a microbrew that the proprietress made herself.

"I'm Adam, by the way," the boy said, holding out his hand.

Michael regarded him for several moments before shaking the proffered hand. "Michael."

Adam's eyes grew wider and Michael had to hand it to him; he apparently knew his Angel lore. Adam made no comments either way, though, and went back to his beer and fries, his eyes straying every now and then to the back of the room. Michael followed his line of sight and saw, much to his surprise and dismay, Castiel practically glued to the side of Dean Winchester, both of them sharing a meal from the same plate, smiling, talking, and kissing every now and then.

"It ought to be outlawed, huh?" Adam asked with an ironic laugh. "I mean, there's only so much schmoop you can take in one sitting."

Michael narrowed his eyes at the boy. Was he jealous of Dean or Castiel? Or both? Would he try and make trouble for them? Michael might not be happy with Castiel's choice, but he wasn't about to make trouble if the Seraph was truly happy.

"Some people might say they're cute," Michael said, trying to sound nonchalant. He supposed they did look cute.

Adam laughed and turned away from the couple. "So what brings you in here?"

Michael looked around the bar again, thinking that question over. "I suppose I just wanted to see what it was all about." That was oblique enough.

The bartender came by and gave Michael another bottle and took away Adam's glass, replacing it with water. "Hey!" Adam protested.

The bartender shrugged. "I'm cutting you off. You drove yourself here, and I won't have you wrap your car around a tree on the way home."

Adam stuck his tongue out, earning a slap to the back of his head.

"They're rather familiar here," Michael remarked when the hulking man disappeared to the other side of the bar.

"Yeah, especially when they're your older brother," Adam agreed.

"Ah, I see."

They sat in silence for several minutes. Michael nursed his drink and Adam sipped at his beer.

"Look," Adam said, "you wanna get out of here?"

Michael almost choked. Was the boy actually propositioning him? That hadn't happened in…about thirty years, come to think of it. He looked back at Dean and Castiel, who were staring deeply into each other's eyes stupidly.

"Yeah," he said. "I do, actually. I'd love to get out of here."

}O{

Adam's house was large and a little mouldy, but it was the sort of place that Michael expected from a Hunter, and he was fairly certain Adam was a Hunter. He had all the earmarks from his drab fashion of Army/Navy surplus jackets and boots to the way he seemed to watch his surroundings while managing to stay focused on Michael.

Inside the house, the boy led him up the stairs and all the way down the hall to the last room. Michael waited until he turned on the light and closed the door before gently pressing Adam against the nearest wall and kissing him soundly. It had been far, far too long since he'd enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh, and he intended to make this last for however long Adam wanted it, whether all night or just an hour.

Adam was trembling as Michael laid a hand on his cheek and gently kissed the opposite. Then he moved his lips gently over Adam's, parting them and taking first the top and then the bottom into his mouth. Adam tasted like alcohol, but not enough to impair his judgment.

Slowly and carefully, Michael let his hands wander to Adam's shoulders and opened his jacket, letting it fall away, the rustle of the fabric and their breathing the only sound in the small room. Adam placed his palms on Michael's chest and looked up at him with big, clear, blue eyes. They weren't the eyes that Michael had determined to fall in love with over a thousand years prior. There was no innocence behind them. But they were beautiful eyes, wide and guileless, trusting and open. Michael could truly read Adam's very soul in them and he found nothing wrong or reprehensible. He was exactly who and what he said he was, and Michael felt something profound there. He wanted to take care of this boy. Even if it was only for the one night, he wanted to show him a part of himself that he had never shown to another living soul.

They fell into the bed. It was a small bed, a clear throwback from Adam's younger years, but they didn't need space when they were clinging to each other so tightly. Clothes peeled away like thick skin, baring themselves to each other, each touch tender and firm, no hesitation or regret.

Afterwards, Michael held Adam against his chest, their legs entwined, breathing labored and shallow.

}O{

There was a profound absence of Adam in the morning at breakfast, a change that made Dean frown and Sam look slightly gleeful at.

"I think that little shit took off before the rest of us woke up," Dean grumbled. "His duffle's gone and his bed was made."

"He's a grown man," Sam reminded him.

"It was his last morning before he went back to school," Dean groused as he flipped pancakes. "You'd think he could have said goodbye properly."

"He comes home almost every weekend, and it's been a while since Adam's been with anyone other than family," Sam reasoned. "I'm glad he went and had fun. Remember when I was at Stanford, and you were always giving me grief for not letting loose more?"

Dean shrugged as though his double-standards made perfect sense, but Castiel smiled at Dean's obvious upset. It was as though Castiel understood that Dean had obviously wanted Sam to be happy and had known that he was studying too hard and too long and worrying too much and had just wanted him to be happy. Conversely with Adam, Dean was afraid that he was pulling away from the family a little too much, spending too much time away, taking too many weekends at school and needed the anchor of his family to keep him grounded. Castiel wasn't sure how he was getting all of that from Dean's expression, his furious pancake flipping and the set of his shoulders, he just knew that he was. He was understanding Dean. They were starting to bond.

Without thinking about it too hard, Castiel stood up from the table and slid up behind Dean, rubbing his hands up underneath his shirt and splaying his palms over his chest and kissed the back of his neck. "Adam stayed with you and Sam for a good portion of the weekend, Dean, and it was a very full weekend. Think of everything that happened since he got here…and he didn't have any classes yesterday, so he stayed through Monday when he could have gone back to his dorm Sunday night."

Dean leaned back into his embrace and Castiel felt as though he had won something special because of that. They were growing closer and closer, and Castiel liked it. He wondered if Dean could read his moods now too.

"Yeah, I know," the Hunter said gruffly, plating up a tall stack. "Here, take this to the little mother. Baby Winchester needs his strength."

Castiel smiled knowingly at Jess as he set the stack in front of her. Jess in turn mouthed the words "You two are adorable" to him with a little eye roll and a knowing smile.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" Dean asked the room at large. "Sam's gotta go to work, I've gotta check in at the office, Jess, you gotta work, sweetheart?"

Jess nodded. "Yes, and I have a doctor's appointment after work to confirm the pregnancy and to try and work out the conception date and all that."

"I'm going to try and make it, baby," Sam said, dropping a kiss to the top of her head as he set down his ubiquitous plate of cut up fruit. He seemed to not mind eating pancakes for breakfast as long as he had his fruit to counterbalance it.

"I think I should go to my old apartment," Castiel said quietly. He knew Dean wouldn't like that, but he was running out of clean underwear, and it was still his primary residence, after all. "I need to do laundry and…and…" Jess kicked him under the table, "…if Dean still wants me to stay here, I'll need more clothes," he finished, feeling his blush like a five-alarm fire. He desperately wanted Dean to say that he wanted him to stay. He was willing Dean to say it with every fiber of his being.

Please, Dean, just say it.

Dean set a plate of pancakes in front of Castiel and swiveled his chair to face him, the scraping of wood making a horrible racket on the old linoleum tile. Castiel looked up into Dean's wide, green eyes and gulped.

Just say it, Dean, he continued to silently beg. Say it, he pleaded with his eyes.

"Stay," Dean whispered.

Sam and Jess both let out their breaths in deep whooshes, but Castiel held eye contact with Dean. It felt like when you had a dream and something important was trailing on the edge of your consciousness and you needed to remember that thing but you couldn't, and Castiel felt like in that moment that something he couldn't quite touch or see was happening between himself and Dean. He wanted to see it, to look at it and hold it and make it his, but he couldn't make it stay still long enough.

He had said it, though.

"Then I'll need more than just a few changes of clothes," Castiel said softly.

Dean nodded. "Bring anything you want. Bring it all. We'll find room for it."

}O{

The elevator doors pinged open and Castiel found himself face to face with Michael. The Archangel was in a blue pinstriped suit, looking incredibly dapper with his black overcoat hanging off of one arm. Both he and Castiel stared at each other wide-eyed for a few moments, long enough for the doors to start closing again. Michael quickly pushed his hand between the doors to keep them from closing all the way and Castiel stepped out into the hallway.

"Michael," he said, trying to not remember his friend as he had seen him last, looking practically rabid. He looked calm now, different. He smelled different too. It was odd Castiel canted his head to the side to try and analyze what was so off about Michael.

"Castiel, I…had not anticipated…"

"Yes, I understand…"

They stared at each other for a very long time. The elevator sounded next to them every time it passed their floor, and still they stared.

"I'm picking up some things," Castiel said by way of explanation.

"You have not mated with him yet," Michael blurted out, then blushed. "Forgive me, Castiel, I seem to have…but you intend to, do you not?"

"I intend to. We both have many issues to work out, but I believe we will mate. Balthazar says it is best to wait for my wings to grow to their full size. They are now growing their permanent feathers."

Michael nodded. "That is good advice. Your wings should be fully mature and able to support you by the end of your Awakening."

They shifted uncomfortably again.

"Castiel, I apologize for my behavior. I had chosen you for a mate without your permission and put my mark on you without thinking to consult you first. It was arrogant of me, silly and thoughtless. Because of that, I overreacted."

"Why did you put your mark on me?" Castiel asked. "I still do not fully understand all of this as I have not received all of my memories as of yet, but it seems a foolish thing to have done, to have assumed that I would have felt that way when I never did before."

"You don't remember," Michael said. "In heaven, just after Lucifer and Balthazar mated, I found you. You were upset. I made a proposition to you. We would mate. Not for love, but because it was a good match. You are a natural leader and would be a good second for me when I went off to battle. You work well with Lucifer and have a head for strategy, so I knew I could trust you. You said yes, but only on the condition that you were allowed a chance to live here on earth. I should have known then that you were waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet. You wanted to love and…it was a tactical error."

Castiel reached out a hand and grasped Michael's bicep. "Love is not politics and strategies, Michael. It just happens. Like a lightning storm, it is a force of nature."

"I am finally starting to understand that," Michael admitted. "But it's taken me a long time."

}O{

Becky was just a little ball of energy when Dean walked into the office. She had a million things to say and about five minutes to say them in, so it all came out in a disjointed jumble. Not for the first time, Dean questioned the wisdom of having a Sprite for a secretary. She was efficient, though, he'd give her that.

"Mrs. Jenkins sent a fruit basket after the Poltergeist incident and I meant to ask about Castiel, she said you had to carry him out of there, I hope he's okay. There's evidence of a Rugaru in Topeka so I dispatched Walt and Roy like you said so I guess that's why you haven't heard what they were saying about Castiel yet, and we burned the building that the Skinwalker was hiding out in, just so you know. Doesn't look like they'll be trouble any more. I think the Coven next town over is trying to do something big for Halloween, but it doesn't look like it'll be Evil Big, just Big Big and, um…maybe I should go? I could, uh…take Sam with me?"

Dean frowned at Becky. "Okay, let's start at the beginning. Where's the fruit basket?"

"In the fridge."

"Okay, you take what you want from it, and I'll take the rest. What are Walt and Roy saying about Castiel?"

"Well, if you ask me, they're just being jealous that you have an Angel and they don't," Becky simpered, her dragonfly wings buzzing as she twisted back and forth like a preschooler.

Dean shut his eyes and counted to five. "What are they saying, Becky?"

"Just that it's not natural and some other things that don't matter. Like they'd even try to go after you."

Dean let out a humorless laugh. "They'll try if they think they can take me by surprise. I'll deal with them, though. You said they're in Topeka right now, though?"

Becky nodded. "Oh, and I almost forgot: I think Loki's planning a haunted house tour at an actual haunted house. The old Miller farm at the edge of town?"

"That jerk," Dean grunted. "I'll deal with him. Okay, here's what I want you to do today—call a few contractors. I want to see about converting my attic into an apartment of some sort, and find another case for Walt and Roy to work on out of town while I try and figure out what their damage is on Cas. Okay, we got appointments today?"

Becky nodded and got out her notepad. "We have a lady who wants to try and contact a dead relative about some money—" Dean snorted because it was almost always about money and never in his experience about saying "I love you" one last time. "—a guy who thinks his kid's music box is possessed, so I told him just to bring it in and I figured you could figure that out, and another guy who thinks he has a cursed object."

"Okay, I'm meeting Cas at twelve, so just work everyone around that," he said.

Becky fluttered away squealing something that sounded a lot like, "You're so cute!"

}O{

Dean could see Castiel's profile as he was sat at a booth with his back to Dean, looking out the window. It was a lovey profile, Dean decided. He especially liked the curve of Castiel's long neck and his brain started cataloguing a thousand things he'd like to do to that neck when he finally got the chance to. Tonight. Tonight sounded good. He'd asked Castiel to move in with him, he was going to renovate the attic—he'd worry about storage space later—so tonight.

He could still remember waking up that morning to a cold bed and the panic he'd felt at it until he'd sat up and found Castiel looking at himself in the large mirror above Dean's dresser. Castiel had been dressed in only a set of boxers, his wings were out and he was flexing them one at a time in a way that reminded Dean of Adam when the boy had realized he could lift just one eyebrow at a time. The wings were larger than they had been when Dean had last seen them, and the downy plumage was sleeker, darker and dappled with blue. Dean was reminded of a duckling and the thought had made him laugh. Castiel had turned to him and, well…his palms still remembered the feel of that muscular, smooth ass flexing under them as Dean directed Castiel to grind against him as the Angel gasped and moaned above him. The best part had been watching those wings tremble and flutter, then fling outward, opening to full span when Castiel came. Dean really wanted a repeat performance later.

He approached the booth and loved the look of mild surprise on Castiel's face when he leaned down to kiss him. "Hi, honey."

Castiel blushed. "Hello, love."

Now it was Dean's turn. He tried to hide his discomfort behind the menu, but Castiel's smirk let him know the Angel had found his weakness. To hear that word…

"I have a crazy, insane idea," Dean said.

Castiel reached across the table and linked their fingers. "Oh? Tell me about it."

Dean told him about renovating the attic so Sam and Jess could have the second floor, and Castiel smiled through it all.

"What will we do with Adam, though?" Castiel asked, popping the only hole Dean hadn't thought about in his bubble. "Is there a room on the first floor we could convert for him? I'd hate for him to think that with Sam, Jess and the baby that he'd need to find a new place to live." Dean's face fell and Castiel tightened his hold on his fingers. "I feel like such a terrible person now, making you frown that way, Dean. It's a wonderful idea, we'll think of something. I'm sure there will be plenty of room in the attic for a bedroom for Adam."

"No, you're right, there is plenty of room on the ground floor, and we have a basement too if we need it, though I think a lot of the crap in the attic is going to find its way down there. There's a study that we don't touch because it was Dad's, but…well, he's never coming home, is he? He's Odin's now."

Castiel squeezed Dean's fingers again. "I'm sorry. I would like to meet him some day."

"He'll be in town soon. The Wild Hunt always blows through here and creates tons of work for us. Already my crew is working on containing the Supernatural fallout."

"Explain it to me."

The waitress came with burgers and fries and Dean smiled, knowing Castiel must have ordered for them. He loved this Angel. Loved him. "Well, you know how on a fox hunt you have the hounds that smoke out the fox? They follow it from bush to bush to keep it in the open so the hunters can see it? Well, that's sort of what I mean by Supernatural fallout. The Hunters are commissioned by Odin to kill harmful Supernatural creatures, so they're on the run ahead of the Hunt. They're in town right now trying to hide, trying to run, but they can only run so far and so fast and they can't stay away from the Hunt forever. In ages past, it was okay since towns were sparsely populated with a whole lot of nothing in between, but nowadays we all live on top of each other so Humans get caught in the crossfire. That's where I come in."

"I'm so proud of you," Castiel said quietly, releasing Dean's hand so he could cut his burger and take a bite. The Angel smiled, "And this burger doesn't taste nearly as good when you're not sitting next to me."

Dean slid his feet across the space in front of him until they were resting next to Castiel's. "Me too."

The only low point of their lunch was when Castiel explained his encounter with Michael. Dean frowned and started to get upset that his Angel had been near Michael, but Castiel managed to soothe him into seeing that it was now harmless.

"If I did make a promise to him in Heaven, and I have no reason to think I didn't, then he had every right to expect me to fulfill my promise when the time came. He probably even could have pressed his claim. The fact that he didn't says much about how honorable he is. He said he is happy for me. For us."

Dean regarded Castiel closely, wondering if he dared to say the thing spinning in his mind. He knew that Castiel would never make fun of him for saying it, but putting it out there, especially so close to him already baring his soul earlier when he asked Castiel to move in, it was frightening and raw. He'd feel weak. And yet…he wanted to spill the contents of his soul to Castiel. He wanted the Angel to see the real him; not just the tough front he showed to the world and to monsters, but the vulnerable part of him that just wanted a family, just wanted to be loved. He reached out his hand and held Castiel's wrist. "I'd be pissed if I were him, if you walked away from our agreement," he said quietly, not making eye contact.

"I know," Castiel said. "But it's not exactly the same as our agreement, Dean. Michael told me that we did not…have feelings for each other. Not the way that you and I do. It was a business decision, pure and simple." He turned his hands over so that their palms pressed together. "I'm not going anywhere, I mean it. Let's make the attic our home. I'd love for Jess and Sam to live below us if they want. And if they don't, then we won't worry about it."

Dean finally looked up at the Angel, surprised to find Castiel staring at him intently. Silently, Dean slid out of his seat and joined Castiel on the other side of the booth. He wrapped his arm around him, and when Castiel looked up at him in wonder, he leaned down and kissed him. "I'm holding you to that promise."


Hi, Michael! Nice to see you finally joining the party.