Dean did a supply run of fresh food for Sam, including a bottle of the cheapest rotgut he could source for Crowley. Amazingly nothing untoward happened. Sam could have risked the journey after all. Dean's last twenty dollar bill was burning a hole in his jeans pocket. Sam was right. He had to come up with some readies. The thought of trying their well oiled pool hustle with Castiel in Sam's role didn't really fly. Sometimes the right location for card sharking could be hard to find, but Dean thought Castiel's poker face could work in his favor. Maybe he could convince Cas to work a quick con with him. Dean decided to think about it on their journey.
When he got back Castiel was dressed in his grey Henley and chinos, scuffing his Converse on the tiles as he sat waiting with their duffels at the bottom of the stairs. Their bags included a plain black suit Cas had found in the bunker. It wasn't too identifiably 1950s, with straight lines and classic cut. It made the grade as a Fed suit. Castiel had packed his new white shirt and the stain removed blue tie. He had a 35mm Pentax on his lap.
The hunter dropped his voice and imitated Cas's much missed graveled tone. "Guess we are leaving forthwith Dean."
Cas slapped him on the arm but changed it into a full body hug complete with a firm squeeze of Dean's butt.
"Geez Hun, mind the buns. I have to drive us cross country!"
Castiel gave him a mega watt grin, robbed the keys out of Dean's hand and set off to load up the Impala.
Sam gave Dean a freaking cardboard folder, tied with string, of information. Dean was sure his brother was nerding out after discovering the Men of Letters' stationery supplies. He leafed through. There were maps of Moose Lake, Jane and Marcel's data, blueprints of the Grand Island museum and pictures of Amphora 5B.
"Thanks Man." Dean clapped him on the shoulder.
"Take Care, Jerk." Sam stood back and let Dean mount the stairs. He called up, "Oh, and I checked the route, as long as you don't go off piste, no angel enclaves or bunches of omens."
That was a relief. Dean was planning on sticking to the highways. They headed north to Grand Island, arriving at lunch hour. The museum was closed from 1pm to 2pm. Dean did a surveillance walk around the old style building that looked like a large family home set in gardens. He had briefly considered a quick B&E or shoplifting a jug, but he changed his mind. There were freaking alarms and CCTV everywhere. Through the window he could see a security guard's lectern. It might be a local set up, but it had its security up to date.
"Plan B, we need to come up with the readies," he called to Cas who was leaning against the Impala taking photos of the museum, or maybe of Dean looking at the museum.
They stopped at a Biggersons to fill up for the journey. The day moved into afternoon and evening. They listened to the radio more than Dean's tapes but using driver's prerogative he flicked passed any sounds that were too offensive. By the time they had skirted Omaha and Des Moines, Dean had developed a secret admiration for Imagine Dragons and a grudging understanding of Some Nights by Fun.
Ten minutes past Ames, Iowa, Castiel handed him a note asking when and where they were stopping for the night.
"If we push on we can get to Moose Lake before eight." Dean said but he noticed Cas's shoulders slump. Cas had needed a lot of sleep since Dean got him back. Dean figured it must be exhausting being newly human. He chewed on his lip and thought about their route. There was that cute country hotel in Iowa, but could he remember where it was?
"Cas? You want to stay somewhere a bit classier than our norm?" Dean rubbed Cas's thigh suggestively.
In response Cas grinned with a rapid eyebrow raise.
"We could chill out and be tourists. Dad and I came through here in spring '05. Garden gnome dressed as a Harlequin making folks bury themselves alive," Dean gave a chuff at the freaky crap he had to deal with on hunts, "Dad took it with him for disposal when we parted ways. Now I know it must have been a cursed object. At the time the grotesque pottery clown face just made me miss Sammy like a hole in the heart."
Castiel patted his shoulder.
"So we were holed up in the moldiest mustiest flea-hole in the state. And the place flooded. All the guests got kicked out. Dad was headed to a bar. I was set to sleep in the Impala, when the owner of the Forest Glen Lodge offered the evicted guests beds for the night. Let's go see if it's still there?" Dean suggested.
The Lodge was fifteen miles off I-35. Dean thought Sam might rip him a new one if Forest City was an angel stronghold, but the residents of the town seemed oblivious to the global change-about. The hotel was still there, and if possible the landscaped grounds looked even prettier than in 2005. When they entered the bright open reception of the country style lodge, Dean caught on. There were posters and leaflets for Iowa's favorite wedding venue. The receptionist apologized that they only had vacancies for that night as they were block booked for a wedding party from Thursday. She handed over the key card to a queen suite without blinking and asked if they would like the continental breakfast in the morning or room service.
Cas took the camera with them when they stretched their legs on a nature trail along the riverbank. He took a few shots of Dean, who believed he was becoming inured to his partner's paparazzi tendencies. When they got back to the hotel, they ate dinner on the veranda. Their discreet and polite server took Castiel's mutism in his stride when Cas used finger pointing to order their steaks, and he took their picture for Cas. The waiter got Dean's last twenty dollar bill as a tip. Everything else was going to be plastic.
Back in their room Dean explained his plan for using the open investigation into Jane's murder to get them entry into Marcel's house. "You can't get that look Cas."
WHAT, Castiel mouthed.
"You know the 'I'm the guilty party, I killed her, big pointy Styrofoam finger it was me' Look." Dean sighed, "We are the investigators. At least until we are inside. Then we make a plea for the old dude's blood. I have the syringes, tubing and a blood bag. I've done it before with field injuries."
Castiel didn't look convinced.
"I promise we will do everything to avoid taking it by force Cas, but worst case scenario, I'm prepared to knock him out, if you can distract his hell hound."
Castiel huffed. He pulled out his new notepad and wrote quickly, Can we make out now, Dean?
Dean smirked when he saw it. "Sure thing Cas."
He made for Cas's belt buckle. For a second he thought he was going to get his hands batted away but Cas started on Dean's shirt buttons. By the time Dean had his hands on the fleshy globes of Cas's butt, Cas had pulled off his own Henley and worked his way through Dean's layers. Dean crowded him back to the corner pillar of the four poster bed and leaned forward so their foreheads pressed into each other.
"You wanna….?" Dean stopped to kiss Cas's cheek and temple. "If you're ready… I brought the lube."
He was answered by Castiel pulling off his chinos. Only in his boxer briefs, Castiel wrapped his arms under Dean's drawing their bare chests tightly together. Dean noticed the tattoo was almost healed. Soon he would be able to suck and mark all around it. Maybe Cas would gift him with a corresponding hickey. Castiel nipped at his neck. Dean breathed in the salty scent of Castiel's warm skin. He ran his fingernails down Cas's spine, eliciting a moan.
"You like that huh?" Dean grinned.
Cas made a breathy sound and lifted a hand to rub his fingers through Dean's reddish brown evening stubble. He ran his hand back along Dean's jaw and pressed in with his fingertips on the hollow near Dean's skull. Dean leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. He felt the soft moistness of Castiel's lips at the corner of his right eye and then on the lid of his left. He opened his peepers and saw the desire in Castiel's gaze. Knowing how much his lover wanted this made Dean even more aroused.
"You are one hot sonvabitch, Castiel." Dean complimented.
Cas caught his hand and dragged him down onto the covers.
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Author's note:
Just a short note about my posting schedule.
I'm away this Saturday and Sunday... so I am going to post tomorrow evening (Friday) as normal. I have the draft of a short chapter which real life permitting I will post either early Saturday morning or late Sunday when I am home... and if I can catch up there will be a chapter on Monday, resuming normal service... So long and short of it... I may miss one or two days this weekend but will be back to daily posts by Tuesday.
Thanks again for all your support, reviews, favourites and follows. They inspire me.