Dean really should have known that things weren't going to be sunshine, unicorns, and fuzzy rainbows - or, rather, cows, Cas, and fashion shows…not that he had actually thought those words. At all. It was… just shut it. - forever. He really should have considered - more than he had, because obsessively planning contingency after contingency for what would happen if John Winchester, landlord ever showed back up at the house simply wasn't enough planning - what they'd have to do to hide Samantha-the-very-obvious-cow from him.
It was pure luck that found Dean outside and mowing the lawn - his dad had given them very, very strict instructions that their grass was not to exceed three inches or they'd find their renting situation vastly worsened - when the roar of a familiar big, black truck shot through the neighborhood. Judging by the fact that he could hear it over the monster of a lawnmower he was using and the soundtrack on the Walkman clipped to his belt - not that he'd ever admit it aloud, but What a Wonderful World was shockingly good mowing music (which was not at all an important fact, shut it, please and thank you) - It was already close… far too close for comfort, at any rate.
Indeed, Dean barely had time to switch off both mower and music before the truck was pulling into their driveway, tires spitting gravel as they crunched over it. Dean definitely didn't have time to run inside, shout out a hide the damn cow, Cas and deal with, he was sure, Cas' response of she's not a damn anything, Dean, she's a baby, and then get back outside without raising a few red flags.
So, instead, he just stood there and watched his dad climb out of the truck with a terse nod and, "Dean."
"Uh, hey, Dad." Not that Dean Winchester was at all nervous, even with a cow less than ten feet away from them… but Dean Winchester was a little nervous because they had a cow less than ten feet away from them, and his dad was nothing if not observant, and holy hell they were running a big risk, and why was he here, and was there another complaint, and-
"You've been avoiding me."
Whatever record had been cycling around in Dean's brain, his thoughts spiralling with the vinyl… the needle had just very clearly scratched it. "Uh… what?"
He should have known that John Winchester wouldn't make things easy on him. "You've. Been. Avoiding. Me." A short pause, then, "Why?"
Dean didn't exactly know what to say, but he could probably come up with something specific and coherent and, "Nah, not really. Just been busy… lots of work." That was… neither specific nor coherent. Good job. Well done. Absolute stellar performance. Critics rated it negative one out of ten.
"So you say."
Which… as true as it might have been that Dean's dad had a tendency to pop in on them occasionally, he usually had at least something of a reason. "What's, uh, what's goin' on?"
That earned a vaguely suspicious patented John Winchester glare. "I want to check on my son, Dean. My son that I haven't seen in a week."
"Oh. Well… Sorry, just got caught up in stuff." Well, he could at least try their ruse from last time again… "And Cas' had… company." Another glare, but at least that time he knew the reason. "Not Andrew. Just…" Shit, switch topics, switch topics. "How's stuff on your end?"
He didn't hesitate a second. "Properties are good. Lots of people move in spring."
"Yeah, I bet." Dean nodded, glad that his dad wasn't actually asking about how he was because there was no way he could capture the past few days in something vague enough John-the-landlord wouldn't flip out. Speaking of… "Flipped any lately?"
"Yeah, a property over on Jasu, sold for way under price. Took less than a week to restore; lookin' to double what I bought it for by the time everything clears escrow."
Dean nodded again, not quite sure how to respond. "Oh, nic-"
"All it needed was a new paint job, some countertops, a new roof, and a bit of new flooring, and it was fine. People are lazy as shit, Dean. They just won't do shit themselves… but offer 'em double what a place is worth and they snap it up."
"Ye-"
"That's why it's good t' make a business out of it. 'Stead they just go to college. Think they're too good for an honest day's work."
"College i-"
"This generation won't get their damn hands dirty… 'Fraid they'll mess up their manicures." No, that did not at all flash Dean's mind to Samantha and her newly bubblegum-pink hooves. Of course not. Not at all. "It's a disgrace."
"When's the escrow cle-"
And then he was checking his watch and clicking his tongue once. "Just about now, actually. Gotta head over." He turned, striding towards the truck, then turned around again at the door and said, "Keep mowin'. You missed a spot."
Dean went back to mowing pretty quickly (though he left the music off… wasn't in the right headspace for hearing about Louis Armstrong's wonderful world anymore) and finished the spot he'd missed.
By the time he returned the mower to the garage and headed into the house, the grass was a perfectly even two inches.
