"Sam. Sam! Sammy!"

In the morning, very early before Cas was up, Dean had slipped out of bed and tiptoed over to his brother's door. He knocked on it and whispered loudly.

"What?" Sam asked, opening it and showing a very groggy face. Dean was grimacing with his eyes wide open. "Dean? What's wrong?"

"Cas wants to have a baby!" He hissed, looking terrified.

"Okay. So?"

"I'm not ready for a baby!"

"Then don't have one."

"I can't just tell him that!"

"Why not? It's not like you can knock him up or anything."

"I know, I know, but still! What do I say!?"

Sam yawned. "Do we really have to be discussing this now? I can still get another 40 minutes if I'm lucky."

"Sammy! Sammy, no!" Dean was acting unusually desperate. "I dunno what to tell him!"

"Tell him what you told me."

"But it'll break his fragile little heart…"

"Then do have a baby? I don't know, Dean. Can we talk this over later? At work maybe?"

"But Cas is at work!"

Sam sighed real loud. "Ask someone who has a kid. I don't know. I'm just your little brother, how can I help?"

Dean ground his teeth together for a moment as Sam just stared at him. "I dunno what to DO!" Dean hissed again.

"Dean. Please."

"I've spent my whole life taking care of you, can you help me out this one time?"

"You've said that sooo many times. I'm going back to bed."

"Sammy, Sammy!" Dean shouted as his brother closed the door. "SAMMY! Damn it."

He made enough noise that it must have woken Cas up, so when Dean turned around, sad and defeated, he saw his husband starting at him. Cas was in the threshold of their bedroom, his thin robe thrown on casually, arms folded.

"Dean?"

"Sorry, babe, I wasn't trying to wake you."

"I woke up when you got out of bed," Cas said quietly. He looked down and pressed his lips together.

"Oh," Dean muttered. "So uh, uh did you…I guess you heard me talking to Sam?"

"Yes."

"Ohh. God, babe, I don't—"

"Dean, it's fine," Cas said in a soft tone, indistinguishable with its intention. "If you aren't ready, then we aren't ready."

"Cas, I—"

Cas walked by Dean and squeezed his arm. "It's fine. Now let's go start our day."

'No, baby, wait," Dean said, but Cas just kept pressing on and went downstairs. He followed him, still asking, "are you mad? Cas?"

"I said it's fine," Cas repeated. They went into the silent kitchen and Cas stepped up to the coffee pot. As he filled it, his eyes remained on his hands. "I was slightly intoxicated last night and it slipped out. I never should have said anything."

Cautiously, Dean approached his husband from behind and laid his hands on his shoulders. Cas relaxed into the touch. "Babe," Dean whispered. "How long you wanted a kid?"

"I don't know," Cas hummed. He clicked on the coffee pot then leaned his head back, wanting more affection. "I thought that, perhaps if we can't hold onto your family, then we can make our own?"

Dean exhaled slowly and wrapped his arms around Cas' shoulders, hugging him tight and dipping in to his cheek for kisses. "We'll have a family one day," he whispered. "Just not yet, okay?"

"Okay," Cas agreed, nodding softly. He turned back to Dean and kissed him.

"Too bad I can't just pump you full and let the big guy upstairs decide, huh?"

"I wish," Cas sighed. "But then you wouldn't want to be with me."

"Hey, don't say that," Dean hummed. His lips pressed onto Cas' cheek and neck area, again and again as he breathed slowly.

"I mean, if you could impregnate me then I would be female."

"Mmmm," was Dean's soft agreement while his hands ran along the lining of Cas' robe, pushing it apart so he could smooth his hands across the firm, muscular tummy. "Just think if you were still you but I could knock ya up."

"Now, Dean, that's just silly." Cas couldn't help but laugh at his husband's remark. The coffee nearly finished and he got two mugs out of the cabinet above. Dean's hands kept rubbing his flesh.

"Yeah, I know," Dean said with a smirk. He made circles over Cas' abs, his face growing happier and happier. "You'd be all big and full of our baby. Something we made together…mmm…"

"I thought you didn't want a baby?" Cas asked.

"I do, I do. Just not now. Not right now."

"Right…"

Cas' voice trailed off sadly. The coffee maker pressed out its last few drops.

"Please don't be sad, Cas," Dean whispered. "I'll give you everything you want, alright? Someday."

"I know."

"'Course the day I wanna talk to Bobby, he isn't here!" Dean leaned over the counter top as he wiped up where a customer had been. Sam had sat down on a stool for a moment.

"Why do you want to talk to Bobby?"

"Advice on…you know…"

Sam sighed. "Is it so complicated?"

"Yes, Sammy, yes." Dean wet his lips as he snatched the rag away and disappeared into the kitchen. The moment Dean was gone, Gabe came running from the other side of the diner and sat down beside Sam. He urgently leaned into him and whispered loudly. "Did you tell him?!"

"No," Sam answered, trying to sound as calm as possible. Gabe frowned. "He's preoccupied with something else right now. I don't want to throw him off too badly."

"MMMM but we agreed!"

"I thought you didn't want to tell him?"

"I don't! But, but I know we gotta, and it'll be good, I think!"

Sam smiled. "I'm glad you realized. I'll tell him as soon as this chaos blows over."

"So what's the problem?" Gabe asked, cocking his head.

"Well, alright," Sam began. He got up because one of the tables appeared to be finished. As he picked up their empty dishes, Gabe followed him. "Apparently Cas wants a baby."

Gabe's eyes widened. "Whaa…really?"

"That's what he said," Sam said with a nod. "But hush about it. Dean 's really freaking out."

Gabe mimed a zipper across his lips as he continued to follow Sam around. They went into the kitchen and dropped off dishes, meanwhile Cas was standing over the grill with Dean behind him. They whispered to each other and Sam prodded Gabe along to give them more privacy.

"You know how much I love you," Dean muttered as he nuzzled into the crook of Cas' neck.

"Ohhh. Ohhh Dean, I do know."

"You're so beautiful, baby."

"Thank you."

"Mmm…"

The back of Dean's fingers moved along Cas' apron, smoothing the edges all the way to his hips, where Dean slipped under it and rubbed over his stomach. "Cas…"

"What is it?" Cas asked in a hushed voice. He turned a burger on the fryer.

"I love you."

Cas smiled. "Yes, Dean. You've just said that."

Dean continued to nuzzle and kiss at him while he plated the next meal. Then he turned around and handed it to Dean.

"Darling? Take this out for them? Medium with no onions."

"Right, right," Dean said. He took the plate from Cas and smiled before going out. "Medium with no onions?" He asked Sam, holding the burger out.

"Thanks."

The younger Winchester rushed by quickly and took it right out of Dean's hands. He went on to a table and handed it to a young woman, who began chatting him up. Dean shrugged it off and took his usual space behind the register. Then a familiar British accent caught his attention. "Have you any peach pie, mate?"

"Peach?" Dean asked. "Don't think so. Sorry."

"Oh, pity," he said with a sigh. "Apple?"

Dean flashed a smile. "Always got apple."

"Could you bring me one, please? Thanks much."

"Sure." Dean nodded and turned around to the kitchen. "Babe? Slice of apple pie?"

"Yes, Dean."

He quickly plated a fat slice and handed it to Dean. "Thanks, babe."

"Of course."

Dean returned and gave the pie to the customer, then gave him a bundle of silverware. "Here ya go."

"Cheers," said the customer. "So when is the big pie bake?"

"Uhh, not sure yet."

The British man unrolled his napkin and placed it into his lap, taking the fork and eating a small corner of the pie. "You will do it, won't you?"

"Yeah, Cas would love to do it. And we need the money. Way bad."

"Close to your goal?"

"No, not at all. It sucks."

"Sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?"

Dean shook his head. He folded his arms and pressed his lips together. "I'm not sure how well it's all gonna work out."

"With an attitude like that, you won't see many good results."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," the British man continued, smirking slightly after dabbing his mouth with a second napkin he took from a dispenser. "Telling yourself it won't work seems to be setting the stage for failure. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Dean said with a sigh. He stared at the counter top for a moment.

"But it's not just the diner's fate bothering you, is it?"

Dean quickly looked up and stared at the customer. "Huh?"

"I see it in your eyes. Trouble with the missus?"

"No. I mean, it ain't your business."

"Ohh, now that hurt my feelings!" The man teased. "And here I am, donating to your worthy cause, only to be trash talked by the owner. That isn't very nice."

Dean sighed very, very loudly. Though he looked annoyed, he clapped both palms onto the counter and leaned across to the man. His voice was quiet. "This is way personal, but…but my husband wants a baby."

"Good for you, then," the customer said.

"I don't want one."

"And why not?"

"I'm not ready.

"Oh, I've heard that before. At what point is anybody ready?"

"When we aren't about to lose our damned restaurant? When we actually know someone who can have the baby for us? If you haven't noticed, Cas isn't—"

"Blah, blah, blah," the man interrupted loudly. "Again, I've heard that before. When we have more money, when we get a new place. But oh, no, you're two men so it has to be perfect, doesn't it?"

"Hey, I didn't ask you to sass me."

"I'm not sassing, just trying to help. Seems you're in a pickle and I'm willing to give you any advice I've got."

"Okay," Dean said, wetting his lips and leaning in just a bit closer. "What should I do? How do I magically feel comfortable having a baby, and how do I magically come up with one?"

"There are ways," the customer said, finishing the pie and setting the dishes aside. "It's quite possible. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"That's not helpful at all!" Dean sneered. "Just cryptic bullshit."

"Is it, now? Believe me, if something is supposed to happen, the puzzle pieces will fall into place."

"I guess."

The British man took a 10 out of his wallet and slid it over the counter to Dean. "I wouldn't worry about it," he said. "And put me down for a peach once that pie sale goes."

Dean cleared his throat as he took the note. "Sure," he said quickly. "What name?"

"Crowley."

Crowley, evidently, got up from his stool, straightened his suit jacket and went for the door. He caught Cas' eyes through the kitchen window before leaving and waved cutely saying, "Thanks, love" as he walked out.