Dean was trying to investigate strange deaths via online newspapers, but he was having trouble concentrating.
Castiel had been correct to be concerned that their bond would complicate the situation. He had tried to avoid Dean's memories and private thoughts, but it was proving to be impossible.
Dean would only realize Castiel was viewing a memory when images surfaced in his consciousness. After the fifteenth time he had to guide Castiel out of his teenage memories, he was becoming quite frustrated.
"You alright, Dean?" Gabriel asked as he approached, "Your expressions are nearly as entertaining as Sammy's at the moment. Try eating more fibre."
"Cas keeps getting dragged into my memories," Dean explained with a frown, "I keep having to pull him out."
Gabriel grinned, "Oh, the puns I could make. Try meditating in your room; give Castiel a guided tour of the memories you're willing to share."
Dean stared at the far wall while he conferred with the Angel. A flicker of blue light in his eyes would have gone unnoticed by most people.
"Thank-you, brother," Castiel said in a distorted version of Dean's voice, "I am trying to avoid Dean's memories, but they keep chasing me."
"Your curiosity draws the memories like a magnet. Heaven doesn't provide us with experience in emotions, so those memories will be the most appealing. Expect a slideshow of Dean's experiences with lust; it's damn powerful," Gabriel warned.
Castiel could feel the anxiety blossom within Dean. He wasn't sure how to reassure his friend that witnessing his sexual exploits would not alter his opinion of the Hunter.
Dean felt the silent reassurance wrap around him like a warm blanket. The next words from Gabriel ripped the blanket away instantly.
"Even God was impressed by the amount of porn on Dean's laptop, so expect to see lots of self-abuse."
Castiel did not immediately understand what the Archangel meant, but an involuntary image from Dean clarified the innuendo.
"Your preoccupation with sex is rather odd," Castiel told Gabriel honestly, "Could it be a side-effect of being on Earth for too long?"
"Don't knock it until you've tried it. I know Daphne was too pious to take advantage of you while your memories were screwed up."
"You returned the memories of the Reaper," Castiel argued, "That counts."
Gabriel rolled his eyes, "Take your time and learn some moves while you're there. No-one should get to your age without experiencing a threesome; it's just sad."
"My apologies," Castiel said sarcastically, "I was doing my job watching over the Earth instead of attending every orgy in history."
Castiel appreciated the swell of amusement from Dean; it was quite enjoyable. The anxiety from the man dropped significantly.
"Your ability to master sarcasm gives me hope for your future," Gabriel declared, "Just remember that human society is riddled with taboos. Dean will probably have a melt-down, but it's not you who will make him panic; it's his ingrained rubbish."
"Every society has its own taboos and I have never understood why," Castiel agreed, "They change over time and are rarely common across civilisations. I don't see the point."
"I doubt there is a point," Gabriel said with a shrug, "We suppress the instincts of our vessels with a single thought. Let yourself feel every impulse and see what happens."
"I doubt Dean would appreciate me exploring lust in his body," Castiel said dryly.
Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "Try it and see."
"You are incorrigible."
"That sounds like a compliment to me," Gabriel mused.
Before Castiel left the room, Gabriel warned him not to visit the gym unless he wanted to see action which would scar even Dean.
The concern which flowed from Dean was hard to describe. Castiel felt the emotion while images flashed through his mind.
"Gabriel wouldn't let anything happen to Sam," Castiel said aloud.
Castiel could sense the apprehension growing in Dean; he feared the memories which would be unavoidable while they meditated.
Castiel liked Dean's room; it was decorated in a reflection of the Hunter's tastes. He hoped Dean would be more comfortable in familiar surroundings.
Castiel stretched out on the bed with his eyes closed. He reached toward Dean and was not surprised when the Hunter cringed away from him.
Dean retreated instinctively when Castiel's Grace stretched toward him. He hated how horrible exposed he was; he could feel the power of the Angel all around him.
The warmth encased him, leaving no possible escape. Dean fought off a moment of panic through sheer willpower.
Castiel hesitated. His offer of comfort had only increased the stress he wanted to alleviate. He was comfortable existing as energy, but it had to be disorienting for Dean.
Though it was painful to maintain, Castiel projected an image of the room to share with Dean. He assumed a visual approximation of his previous vessel to communicate with the Hunter.
"Dean, you need to relax," Castiel advised as a familiar soul swirled around the room. Dean materialised as a blurry approximation of his physical body.
"How can I relax?" Dean demanded, "You've got me trapped."
"Not intentionally," Castiel assured him, "I don't know how to reassure you that there is no memory or thought which could make me think less of you."
The shame emanating from Dean appeared as a dark purple glow across his chest, "I don't want to take that risk."
"Dean, do you trust me?"
The colours lightened, "Yes; not your judgement sometimes, but I do trust you."
Castiel held out his hand toward Dean, who regarded the limb warily. The Angel wondered if something distasteful had materialised on his fingers.
"I can't maintain this much longer," Castiel warned, "If I lose consciousness, I could be drawn into any memory."
"What about yours?"
"I suspect your memories would be more appealing to my unconscious mind."
"No, I mean, do we have to explore my memories?" Dean asked, "Can't you snuggle with the missing piece of Grace while we wander through your head?"
Castiel refrained from pointing out that he was an Angel, so he technically didn't have a head. What Dean was suggesting could cancel out the energy boost he would receive from having his Grace completed.
"We can do that, to begin with," Castiel agreed, "Where would you like to start?"
Dean sat down on the bed hesitantly, "Will my eyes explode if I see your Heaven memories?"
"No; I'm not sure how you would interpret my true form, though."
Dean was clearly still nervous, but the edge of panic began to fade.
"Did you visit the Earth when the dinosaurs were alive?"
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Sam met Faith for a searing kiss. The thought of her fangs only heightened the excitement.
Until the image of Amelia intruded on his mind.
Faith felt Sam pull away and fall back against the padded mat. She could see the apology before he made a sound.
"I'm sorry, it's just," he sighed, clearly unable to complete the sentence.
"The lady with the dog?" Faith guessed.
Sam nodded miserably, while his body cursed his stupidity. For a moment, he longed for the time when he had no soul.
Faith shifted her weight off him and rolled to one side. She stretched out next to him with her head propped up by her bent arm.
Sam stared at the ceiling silently.
"Good," Faith decided aloud, "Otherwise, I'd have to assume you were disgusted by the realization that I'm old enough to be your grandmother."
Sam turned his head to aim a cheeky smile at her, "You look great for your age; I'll enjoy being a boy-toy."
Faith wrinkled her nose at him, "Your body has aged more than mine, though. Does that make you a cradle-snatcher?"
"You were already an adult when I was born," Sam argued.
"And you've aged more in the last year than I have in fifty. Are you going to admit I'm younger than you, or do I have to knock you on your back again?"
Sam reached for her, but she was too fast. Faith surged to her feet with a teasing smile and skipped backward when he lunged for her feet.
"Too slow, old man," Faith laughed as she avoided his hands, "If I win again, I'm going to give you my version of a hickey."
Sam climbed to his feet and began to stalk toward her, "No argument there; I'm still annoyed you fed on Cas."
The predatory gleam in Faith's eyes should have unsettled the Hunter. Instead, he relished the idea of being blatantly claimed by the Dhampir.
Faith began to circle him, and her tongue flicked up to slide along one partially-extended fang, "Think of me biting Cas in comparison to your relationship with Amelia; I was needed at the time, even though it's not what I really wanted."
The pained expression on Sam's face evoked a flash of guilt which Faith ignored. She watched the anger in Sam fuel the determination in his movements.
Faith noticed the tension in his body a moment before Sam launched forward. She twirled out of his reach with a short laugh.
"What do you want; other than my blood?" Sam wasn't tired from the exercise; he was slightly out of breath due to the way Faith was watching him. Her eyes raked down his body possessively.
"Everything," she said simply.
"Including illogical guilt over a married woman and nightmares from bunking with Lucifer?" Sam kept his tone light, but there was a real fear of rejection in his mind.
"All of it," Faith confirmed, "Weird habits, crazy brother, insane Angel friends and that sad puppy expression you wear when you're upset."
"Dean calls that Bitchface Number Six."
Faith gave into the impulse which kept bothering her when Sam was nearby. She surged forward, well into his personal space, pressed her hands down on his shoulders and jumped up to wrap her legs around his waist.
It took Sam a full second to comprehend how he ended up with a pair of lycra-covered breasts level with his face and his hands supporting a supple backside.
"I like the stunned expression you're wearing," Faith confided.
Sam shifted her weight so he could press his forehead against her neck. Having her body wrapped around his felt so natural that it was comforting.
"Do you still want to give me a hickey?" Sam asked quietly.
Faith hissed an affirmative reply into his hair. She felt his arms shift to indicate he had to put her down.
Sam didn't want to relinquish the close contact but holding an adult woman for any length of time was quite difficult.
Faith was tall for a woman, and her head still barely reached his shoulder.
"Should I sit down or something?" Sam wondered aloud.
"No idea. I'm not thirsty, so I won't bite down," Faith offered in a strained tone. She could feel his heart thudding away faster than their light exercise could justify, and she knew her pulse was equally accelerated. As she leaned in toward his throat, their heartbeats synchronised.
Sam leaned down and a gruff voice in his mind told him that he was being an idjit.
Faith gripped his shoulders tightly and moved slowly so he had time to pull away. She was immensely relieved when he allowed her close enough to run the tip of her tongue over the skin she wanted to mark.
Sam shuddered and inhaled sharply at the contact. He was sure Dean would blow a gasket, and yet the urge to let Faith mark him kept him pliant in her arms.
Sam was unprepared for the sharp wave of arousal which shot through his body when her fangs pierced his skin. It was stronger than the reaction he had experienced when she had first fed from him over a week earlier.
Faith kept the punctures shallow and pulled back quickly. She ran her tongue over the wounds and leaned back to check them. She realized that her saliva had healing properties too; the wounds were beginning to scab over. Instinct told her that the scars which remained would be visible to any Vampire Sam encountered in the future.
"How do I taste?" Sam asked in a whisper.
"Delicious," she replied with a satisfied sigh, "Like you were made for me."
Sam didn't realize why one hand released his shoulder until he felt a gentle pressure against his groin. He moaned into her hair and was struck by a petty thought.
"Better than anyone else you've bitten?"
"Infinitely."