By Friday Dean was completely beat after a long day at the shop. Today was all engine work, necessary, but not the fun stuff. It was the first day all week that Cas hadn't been at the shop. They had put the finishing touches on Cas' Austin-Healey the day before and the car was sitting on the other side of the shop, gleaming and beautiful with its final coat of paint.
He had spent over a month working with Cas on the car and now, the shop had felt empty without him. Dean found that he missed the companionship and missed being able to teach Cas new things about restoration. It wasn't like he worked alone. There was Bobby and his crew of mechanics always coming and going as well as his own small team of two, which included Victor Henrickson, his body work specialist and Krissy Chambers, paint artist. Victor had worked for Dean almost since he opened the shop and had proven himself to be a valuable asset.
Krissy was a more recent hire, having been brought on about six months ago. But she may have been the best business decision Dean had ever made. The kid may have been just out of high school, working her way through art school, but she was already a master with an air brush. Dean was the visionary who decided what the car's paint should look like, but Krissy's hands helped him bring that vision to life.
Dean had also had a new customer come in today with a 1957 Ford Thunderbird. This car was going to be amazing. It was a two-seater hard top convertible with a V6 312 engine. He could already visualize her in candy-apple red with broad white-walled tires, maybe flames on the sides. Flames were never his preference, a little too cliché, but somehow it felt kind of fitting for the car model and for this customer.
Her name was Josie Abaddon and she strutted into his office like she owned the place, her high heels clicking exclamation points across the floor with every step. She was stunning with her red hair pulled up in a French twist, perfect cat-eye makeup and ruby red lipstick. Her clothes were all black and tight, a short black leather jacket over a tight-fitting t-shirt with a sexy red devil-lady on it saying "The Devil made me do it." Maybe some fire for this fiery red head, Dean had thought when he saw her.
"Dean Winchester," she purred eyeing him up and down with a flick of her long lashes, "I have heard about you. Josie Abaddon." She extended her hand with the palm facing down and fingers splayed out. Wait, what? That isn't a handshake pose it is a kiss-my-hand pose. Dean almost looked around for a hidden camera. This had to be a joke. He extended his hand to hers and clapped it into a firm handshake. Sorry, not kissing hands!
"Nice to meet you, Josie."
She flashed him a million dollar smile and cocked one eyebrow. "I hear you can work miracles with classic cars. I've got a Thunderbird out there that I want restored. And it needs to be finished in time to be displayed at the summer air show. The design of the car should reflect the name of my company, Phoenix Specialty Aircrafts."
OK, so fire it is, thought Dean. Not too often he nails the design before the customer even says a word. Hell on wheels was more like it.
"I'll have to take a look at it and see what needs done, but well, if the timeline is that firm I can bring in some extra help, but it will increase the cost."
"Perfect. Please proceed with your inspection and have a quote to me by Monday morning. I'm certain we will be able to do business together. I will make the finances work if you make the timeline work. They don't call me the queen for nothing." She reached into her pocket and pulled out her business card, holding it out to Dean between two perfectly manicured fingers. Dean took the card and with a turn on her heels, she was gone.
The whole scene was surreal. Seriously, who was this chick? Well, keeping in mind that money seemed like no object to this woman, he went out to take a look at the car. Walking around the classic vehicle, he was pretty sure this job was going to be fun. The body was solid, just a few rust spots here and there and it didn't look like it had ever been wrecked. The engine was original but in pretty bad shape. He could see someone had tried to soup up the carburetor and now the damn thing was flooding the engine. Idiots, he thought, he hated cleaning up after backyard mechanics who didn't really know what they were doing. The car had so much potential, though, and Phoenix, seriously? His mind was already racing with ideas of how he could incorporate beautiful firebird imagery.
He made a mental note to start surfing Google for phoenix images for inspiration come Monday. He shot off a quick e-mail and was ready to close down for the day and go meet Sam for their weekly after work drink. They started their tradition of meeting every Friday at The Roadhouse when Dean first got back from Afghanistan and this tradition had helped keep them both grounded ever since.
Sam was sitting at their favorite booth getting in a few end of the day e-mails before he could close his laptop for the evening. He had shed his suit jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves, feeling more comfortable already. Growing up in jeans and plaids, he sometimes envied Dean's casual wear. He loved being a lawyer but could do without the monkey suits.
This week had been especially tiring. He was working on a high-profile case that involved employees being exposed to dangerous materials in their workplace that the employer had tried to cover up. Sam and his team had built a solid case for the workers, but it was still going to be a long, drawn out process against a big corporation.
Now, with the added pressure of a nearing wedding date, Sam was hoping that he could have a stress free visit with his brother. He loved that he and Dean had kept this tradition of meeting once a week for drinks. Dean could almost always cheer him up. It was always fun giving Dean a hard time about his endless pop culture references and ridiculous jokes but really, he kind of enjoyed them (but he would deny that vehemently if anyone ever asked).
Just as he hit send on the last e-mail of the evening, Dean slid into the booth across from him with a beer in each hand. "Hey there, Sammy, still working?"
"Just finishing…. done!" He declared, shutting his laptop and leaning back in the booth. "Thanks for the drink. It's been a long week." He held up the bottle, nodded and took a hearty drink, savoring the refreshing chill of the beer.
"Trouble in paradise?"
"It's just this case and all the wedding stuff. I am so ready for it to finally be here. Speaking of wedding stuff, you were really weird at dance class this week. What is going on with you? Did you strike out with Pamela?"
Dean was acting strange. If he didn't know better, he would say Dean almost seemed like he was hiding something. Sam thought maybe he was just uncomfortable because he had asked out Pamela and gotten shot down. He had seen Dean act like this in the past when he was trying to protect himself from getting hurt.
"Nah, didn't even try. She's dating Cas."
"Ummm, Dean, are you sure?" That was a surprise to Sam, who had seen Pamela flirt with any number of guys at the gym.
"Yeah, it's cool, though. I'm not sure I'm really interested in her anyway."
Sam was smart, really smart and he could totally read between those lines. Dean may not be interested in Pamela, but there was definitely someone. "I know that look, Dean. There is definitely a girl you are interested in, who is she?"
Dean huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes and looked, what was that, guilty, scared? "No, Sammy, trust me, there's no girl," Dean said looking positively miserable. Oh great, what had his brother gotten himself into, now? Sam could tell something was unquestionably going on. But he knew his brother well enough to know that pushing the issue (at least while they were still sober) was a lost cause. It looks like we are going to have to kick it up to whisky tonight, thought Sam as he made a mental note to text Jess and let her know he would be later than planned, and probably need a ride too.
"Dean, are you OK?"
"Dude, I'm fine. What makes you think something is wrong?"
"Because you're my big brother. I have been watching you and emulating you my entire life. I have your mannerisms memorized and I can tell when something is bothering you."
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, another sign that Sam recognized as Dean contemplating his options. He waited patiently, knowing that Dean was like a cornered animal when it came to opening up. He had to approach carefully, make no sudden movements, and let Dean come to him when he is ready. God, he thought, with an internalized eye roll, he loved his brother with all his heart, but he was a difficult man to know.
Dean finished off the rest of his beer in several long gulps, put down the glass and ran his hand over his face, taking a long breath. When he looked back up at Sam he began slowly, "Fine, Samantha, you win. You want to talk about feelings? There is something. It's… well…you know I have been –"
"Hey, amigos!" Just then, Ash showed up at their table, clapping a hand on Dean's shoulder putting his laptop on the table in front of him. "How are my two favorite Winchesters tonight?" Ash decided to make himself comfortable sliding into the booth next to Dean. Sam shot Ash one of his best bitch faces.
"Hey, Ash, good to see you," smiled Dean, plastering on a fake grin, all chances of Sam getting anything out of him now lost. "What'cha got for me?"
"Well, first of all, your new lady friend? Should be very good for you. Check it out," he said as he opened the laptop and began clicking away furiously, "She's pretty brilliant, and that's coming from me. She moved up to CEO of Phoenix at 28 years old and has run the company for the last 3 years, increasing their profits each year. Here, you want to see her taxes? How 'bout her home security cameras?"
"No, Ash, sheesh, how do you even get access to that?"
"I'm that good! Anyway, she likes the finer things, see?" He clicked through pictures of her wearing top of the line clothes, shaking hands with A-list celebrities and driving expensive cars. "That means you will really have to impress this one."
Sam liked the sound of this. He didn't even have to get Dean to fess up, Ash had spilled the beans. Now he knew exactly why Dean didn't want to talk about it. Dean liked this woman who was beautiful, rich, and successful. Dean was the consummate lady's man but he was terribly self-depreciating and probably thought he wasn't good enough for this lady. Sam just hoped that he could convince Dean that anyone with half a brain should be able to see how great he really is.
Dean squinted at the laptop screen, "Wait, is that her with the President, Bill Gates, oh my God, Robert Downey, Jr.? Fuck, she knows Iron Man! What the hell is she doing with me?"
"Maybe it's fate." Sam chimed in with a big smile, excited to be encouraging Dean's new romance.
Dean and Ash both looked up from the laptop at him at exactly the same time giving him quizzical looks.
"Oh kaaaay," said Ash and turned back to the laptop. "Anyway, I also queried the Internet for all '57 Thunderbird parts for sale, cross referenced for price, shipping costs, and quality rating and there you have your perfect list of parts suppliers."
"What do you mean you queried the whole Internet?" Sam asked.
"What, like it's hard?" Ash said as he flipped his glorious mullet back. "Not for Dr. Badass!"
Dean and Sam looked at each other and shared identical eyebrow raises and shoulder shrugs. "Thanks, Ash. Next round's on me."
Ash stayed and chatted with the boys for the next three rounds of shots. They talked about rock and roll and Ash's latest hookups. Sam was always surprised at how popular Ash was with the ladies. "It's the hair," he had told them, "ladies love something to grab onto." To which Sam laughed while Dean nearly choked on his shot before downing another one. They were feeling buzzed and happy when Ash left to go play pool and Sam took the opportunity to prod Dean about this new lady.
"I know why you didn't want to tell me who you were interested in, Dean."
"You do? What... how… wait…" Dean froze in place stammering, not knowing what to say. Sam's buzzed mind thought it was actually kind of cute, his big brother with a crush on this beautiful lady.
"You don't think you are good enough, but you are. And I'm not just saying that because you are my brother or because I'm kinda drunk. Really, Dean, any one would be lucky to have you. This Josie lady sounds great. You should go for it. I know it's been rough for you lately but I believe there is a light at the end of this tunnel. Maybe it can be with her."
Dean's face changed. The panic was gone, replaced by that sad resigned look he had on his face earlier. "Ugh, Sam, you are one happy drunk. And you've got it completely wrong. Josie is just a customer. She came in today with a Thunderbird to restore. She was a little over the top so I asked Ash to check her out for me."
"Wait, so I thought you were interested in someone? Not Josie?"
"No, it's actually more complicated than that. It's just… hard for me to talk about, you know?
"Dean, whatever it is, you can tell me."
Dean leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and sighed. The silence at the table lasted long enough that Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat before Dean began, "OK, here goes nothing. It's just that I… Well, I kind of… Fuck it! Sam, I-"
"Another round courtesy of the hotties at the bar." It was Jo with a tray full of shots that she put down on the table then slid onto the booth next to Sam, nudging him over with her hip. She put her feet up on the booth next to Dean and downed one of the shots. Seriously? This was like some bad rom-com, thought Sam.
"That blonde has been undressing you with her eyes all night, Sam. Don't worry, I told her that you were completely off the market, but Dean, the pretty Asian girl wanted to buy this round anyway because she has her eye on you."
Dean glanced over to the bar at the ladies. Jo was right, they were both pretty. He gave them a little nod and two finger thank you sign but his smile was halfhearted.
Jo rolled her eyes and smirked at Dean, "So will it be the usual, Dean? I'm thinking sex-on-the-beach for Barbie and maybe purple nurple for Lucy Liu?"
"Nah, not tonight."
"Woah, you feeling OK?"
"It seems our Dean here has his eye on some other lucky lady," Sam told Jo. "I thought it was this Josie lady, but turns out she is just a customer and he's not spilling."
"Sam, just… no." Dean held up a hand to stop Sam right there. He didn't like where this was going so he took another swallow of his drink and racked his brain for a way to change the subject quickly. "Jo, you got time for a game of pool? Grab Ash for some doubles and let's see if we take some money from him and Sam."
"Sounds like fun. Go get 'em racked while I deliver a couple of drinks and let Mom know I'm taking my break."
Dean was relieved that his diversion worked. He grabbed his beer and headed over to the pool table where he lined up the balls tightly in their triangle and chalked his cue in silence. He was feeling anxious and really needed a distraction from the set of blue eyes that he couldn't get out of his head. He lined up, took a deep breath and released his tension into the stick as he heard the familiar crack of the break and satisfying plop of the six ball dropping into the corner pocket. The game was on.
Half an hour later, two shots drunker and twenty dollars poorer, Dean was ready to call pool a loss for the night, his mind not really in the game. Jo, who was definitely not used to losing, wasn't happy and huffed back to her customers as soon as the game had ended. The Friday night crowd was starting to fill the bar and Dean was feeling claustrophobic.
"Sam, can we just go? It's getting a little too crowded in here."
"Yeah, sure. Let me call Jess to pick us up. You can sleep at our place tonight."
Outside, they sat on the hood of the Impala, waiting for their ride. The night was clear and warm and they both sat, just looking up at the sky for a long moment that was heavy with what was unspoken between them. Finally, Dean broke the silence, eyes still focused on the starlit sky. "Sam, you were right. There is someone. But it's an impossible situation and it's just so fucked up."
Sam looked over at his brother, who now had his full attention. "Whenever you are ready to talk about it, you know I am here for you, Dean."
"Yeah, I know. You ever fall for someone completely unexpected? Like, there is no way that is should have happened but suddenly you're kind of in over your head?"
"I think we have all been there."
"Well, that's kinda what happened to me and they are perfect and gorgeous and fucking unattainable in so many ways." Dean took a deep breath, looked down, running his hand through his hair. Sam waited patiently for his brother to continue. He knew how hard it was for Dean to open up and was trying to give him the space he needed. Finally, after several quiet moments of Dean leaning over into his hand he burst out, "Fuck it! It's Cas, Sam. And he is taken and too good for me and he's a guy!"
Well, that explains a lot, thought Sam. He knew about Michael and he knew what Dean had done a few times for money when they were younger, having walked in one time and backed out before he could be spotted. He never said a word about it and didn't think Dean ever would either.
"First of all, Dean, it's fine with me that you like guys. I kind of always knew. I mean there was Michael."
"Wait, you knew about Michael?"
"Yeah, well, Dad was a loud mouth drunk and I heard him ranting about it after that fight you guys had. Plus I spent a whole spring hanging out with you two. I could tell how much you liked him."
Dean sighed, "It's weird. I don't feel gay. It's not like I am checking out guys. It's just Cas. He is, I don't know, different." Dean leaned his head down and groaned into his hand.
Sam smiled and put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I sincerely doubt you are gay, probably bi. I mean you are mostly attracted to girls with just a few exceptions, right? Sounds like you are pretty low on the Kinsey scale."
"What the hell is that?"
"Basically, there is a whole range of bisexuality from, like you, pretty much hetero with a few notable exceptions to just the opposite where someone is almost completely into the same sex."
"What the fuck, dude? Do you sit up at night browsing gay websites for information like that?"
Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. "In college for one of my Psych classes I had to write a paper on an aspect of human sexuality."
"I can't believe I am having this fucking conversation. Wanna go watch Oprah and get pedicures while drinking herbal tea?"
"Shut up, jerk." Sam smirked at Dean.
"Back at ya, bitch."
They sat for a long time in silence until finally Dean almost whispered, "Thanks, man."
"Any time. And Dean, maybe you should talk to Cas?"
Sam received no response.
Monday you can fall apart
Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart
Oh, Thursday doesn't even start
It's Friday, I'm in love
~Friday I'm in Love – The Cure