Many thanks to Eyum daRelmera, Kathy, HollieElisabeth, gnbrules, and Damaged Emerald for taking the time to share their thoughts. I've never gotten so many reviews without begging before. Either this is the best thing I've ever written, or I've finally trained you guys. =)

Chapter Six

Castiel had mixed feelings about Christmas. He wasn't a Scrooge. He didn't hate the holiday season or resent people for being cheerful and festive. (The endless repetition of the same twenty songs on the radio got on his nerves eventually, but everyone complained about that.) He just didn't have the same nostalgic attachment to Christmas that other people did. He had no memories of tearing into brightly colored wrapping paper to reveal long awaited treasures. His presents (when there were any) were battered, secondhand things that had obviously been donated to charity by some other kid who had more toys than he knew what to do with, and when he went back to school everyone would be showing off their shiny new Transformers and Star Wars action figures and Barbies, and any happiness he had managed to find would melt away like snow in the sunlight.

But Jimmy had most of the same memories Castiel did, and he had never let that stop him from giving Claire the best Christmas he could afford. Castiel owed her no less.

A live tree was out of the question. Most apartment buildings in New York banned them because of the risk of bugs and vermin, but Claire helped him pick out a decent size fake that actually smelled like pine, and some lights and other decorations. In fact she practically skipped around the store, running back to him now and then and holding out an ornament with a pleading look. It was the first thing she'd gotten excited about that wasn't connected to the restaurant, and because of that he probably spent more than he should, but he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty. Christmas was made for spoiling kids, and it was so good to see her smile.

After they got the tree set up in the living room and liberally if somewhat haphazardly adorned it with lights, baubles, and plastic reindeer with glowing red noses, Castiel brought out the box he had found in Jimmy's closet when he was cleaning out the house. Claire recognized it immediately, and for a moment her face went completely blank.

"We don't have to use them if you don't want to," Castiel said, setting the box in front of her but leaving it closed. "But I thought you might like to see them up there with everything else. Make it feel more like home. It's up to you."

She unfroze a little once she knew he wasn't going to force this on her, and she slowly sat down on the floor next to the box, her fingers tentatively tracing the edges, but she didn't open it yet either.

Realizing that she might not want to be stared at while she worked through her feelings, Castiel said, "How about I make us some hot cocoa."

She nodded and gave him a little smile.

He made it from scratch of course and took his time, resisting the urge to check on her. On an impulse he added a swirl of caramel and a pinch of salt, only realizing after he'd done it that it was a Jimmy thing. Jimmy had been addicted to salted caramel anything. Castiel had teased him that he would eat dirt if it was salted caramel flavored. Again the memory didn't hurt as much as he'd expected, and he didn't feel the need to throw out the cocoa and start again. He poured it into two mugs, topped both with a generous amount of whipped cream, and took them back to the living room.

The box was empty, and Claire was hanging the last ornament, a handmade felt Santa Clause with a cotton ball beard and googly eyes. She had actually distributed the old ornaments fairly symmetrically among the new ones although she obviously couldn't reach the high branches.

"It looks beautiful," Castiel said quietly.

She turned towards him, and he saw tears on her face. He quickly put the cups down on the coffee table and gathered her into his arms without a second thought. She didn't sob or wail like a child crying because she couldn't have something she wanted. She cried like an adult finally accepting a loss and allowing herself to grieve.

~o0o~

Dean showed up promptly at four on Christmas Day with a covered dish wrapped in towels to keep it warm. "Homemade mac and cheese," he said before Castiel could ask. "A Winchester Christmas tradition. Course when I was a kid it came from a box, but I figured I could do better for you."

"Thank you," Castiel said, taking the dish. "I'm sure it will be delicious. I'll put it in the oven with the rest of the food while I finish setting the table."

"Can I help with anything?" Dean asked, but at that moment Claire ran over and started tugging on his arm, wordlessly demanding that he come look at her tree and her presents.

"That's all right," Castiel chuckled. "I've got it under control. You relax. Claire, at least let him take his coat off first."

The next time he poked his head into the living room, Claire was showing Dean her brand new play kitchen, complete with pots and pans and plastic food. Dean had been right. It was the perfect gift. She had been cooking an imaginary feast since the ungodly hour of seven a.m. which had given Castiel plenty of time to prepare their actual dinner. She was now demonstrating how the burners lit up when you turned the knob and the dishwasher made noises like it was actually working when you pressed the button. Dean looked suitably impressed.

"Hey, I got you something too," Dean said, taking a square package from his coat pocket.

Claire's face lit up and she was about to tear off the wrapping paper when she paused and looked worriedly at Castiel. Clearly Jimmy had taught her not to take gifts from strangers without checking with him first.

"It's all right," Castiel assured her. He knew what was in the package because Dean had texted him a picture and asked if it was okay to buy it for her.

Claire peeled away the paper to reveal a book with the words Junior Chef's First Cookbook on the cover.

Claire stared at it open mouthed for a moment, then launched herself at Dean, narrowly avoiding poking him in the eye with the corner of the book as she threw her arms around his neck in a silent thank you. Dean patted her back a little awkwardly, but he looked pleased.

Dinner was an unquestionable success. Claire had second helpings of everything and no less than four helpings of Dean's macaroni and cheese.

"Guess I'll have to give your uncle the recipe," Dean said, watching her scraping her plate clean yet again.

"I would have asked for it even if she didn't like it," Castiel said. "This is amazing. You could open a restaurant and serve nothing but this."

Dean laughed. "I don't know about that, but if I ever do open my own place, I'd definitely do lots of comfort food. This shepherd's pie is pretty damn good too by the way." He helped himself to another generous scoop.

"I guess we'll be trading recipes then."

Dean insisted on helping with the clean up, and Castiel didn't actually protest too much.

"Thank you for that book," he said as he rinsed plates and handed them to Dean to put in the dishwasher. "She really loves it. I can tell."

"Oh. It wasn't a big deal," Dean said, his ears turning a little pink. "I just happened to spot it and thought of her. I didn't go out of my way or nothing."

"Dean." Castiel waited for the other man to meet his eyes before he continued. "You made her happy. And that is no small thing these days. Shut up and take the compliment."

Dean blushed even more, and Castiel had to sternly repress the urge to lean forward and kiss those pink cheeks.

Once the kitchen was clean, Dean looked like he wasn't sure whether he was supposed to leave or not, so Castiel solved the dilemma by pointedly taking three mugs out of the cabinet and going about making hot cocoa and caramel popcorn, delegating certain tasks to Dean the same way he did in the restaurant kitchen but with a softer, less brusque tone that he hoped would convey that they were just being friends right now, not chef and sous chef. Judging by Dean's shyly happy smile, the message was received.