It isn't what we say or think that defines us, but what we do.

JANE AUSTEN, Sense and Sensibility

Castiel detested sunglasses like pineapple on pizza.

There was no general acceptance on his part to appear like a bug of some sort in public. It was like stamping on one's ego repeatedly. But he had to conceal his identity because the damn scandal had swelled into an abundance of stares and whispers whilst he took a stroll on the street or grabbed coffee and croissants. He discovered that many people latched on to the headlines about himself and Dean. And they chewed on it for a few days like chewing on a juicy steak.

What he desired initially though, was to jump on the next flight and bolt right back to New York. To put all of this behind him like a blip in a most miserable past based on bad decisions. But when Zachariah called two days ago to deliver congratulations on moving one step closer to getting shagged, Castiel's fury had no bounds.

He walked around evidently flustered and tight lipped. Furious and red in the face from the injustice served upon him without careful scrutiny into the defaming of his own character. And the more he thought about the tragedy, the more he hated how anyone could spin a story out of assumptions.

For two days, Castiel allowed Ruby to work inside his room.

He was guilty of finding her company rather satisfying. Especially after she voiced her distaste in the headlines and called it a fucking outrageous attempt to sabotage my Cassie Cas. But keeping her around meant that he had to constantly feed the demon with snacks. And she never craved anything that was even remotely considered as healthy choices.

Ruby ordered burgers and fries and shakes and pizzas with pineapples on them. Meals that made his space reek of oil and clogged veins. Death traps that he worked hard to avoid over the years. But an abundance of grease that she loved to shove into her body whilst still maintaining a slim figure.

"Maybe he'll stay in Italy for a week," she referred to Dean whilst chewing on her right thumb. Those fiery eyes were fixated on the laptop screen. "Hey, do you know that people are shipping the two of you now? They're referring to you as The Royal and the Reporter. I'd like to kick their asses. I bet Dean is enjoying this. Getting someone to share the spotlight with him whilst he's frisking around in Italy and swimming in money."

"Privileged," Castiel had positioned himself on a chair to admire a direct view of the Westfordshire Palace in the distance from his balcony. "The media is also prejudiced to distinctly highlight our different roles. Whilst I'm the underdog reporter, he remains…The Prince..."

Ruby sighed. "More reason why you should not fall for him. You'll always remain on the bottom of the ladder whilst he fucks you from the top."

"A very graphic analogy. But precisely the point."

"You know what I hate about Royals?" she adjusted herself on the chair, feet tucked under and scowled. "Their fakeness. They have to put on this show to the public whilst no one really knows who they really are."

"But you saw behind Sam's façade."

"Only because I was screwing him."

"How did you two collide, might I ask?" Castiel reached for his mug of coffee and sipped slowly, with his eyes on the swelling grey clouds that threatened rain.

Ruby debated before answering. She had been working on polishing a photo of Queen Mary standing next to the fountain sculpted from the likes of Cupid drawing his bow. Last month, she had chased the Queen to Scotland; where Mary had spent a few days visiting museums and collecting books to update her library.

"The Cat Nap," she finally said, all attention on the screen.

"Hmm?" Castiel had become lost in the view before him. Of being in another city. Another culture.

"I used to go there a lot. It's this hole in the wall place a few blocks from here. Like the love child of a pub and a small library. I met him there and we started talking. He's obsessed with folklore. Monsters. Aliens. One time he could have sworn he saw a UFO above Westfordshire Palace."

"Well bred," Castiel commented with a nod. "Have you ever been in the company of his brother?"

"Several times," Ruby sighed after accidentally blurring out the Queen's beautiful eyes. She clicked undo and continued. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

"I told you not to think about him that way."

"I'm not," Castiel frowned. His coffee was growing cold. He hated cold coffee. "I'm just wondering if you managed to see the Duke of York behind his façade."

"He's obsessed with Jane Austen."

"Is he really?" Castiel didn't need to know that. He could feel his heart settle down in front of a small fire that was ignited within his chest. "I'm intrigued now."

"It's all he talks about. He also has a big cock."

Castiel choked on his coffee and spat out most of it on the tiled floor of the balcony. Rising up immediately, he considered the wet spot on the front of his black jeans and scowled. Then focusing his glare on Ruby, he mumbled something and strode into the kitchen.

"You're welcome!" she called out sweetly.

The National Flower Festival was to be held the next day at Westfordshire Palace. Or so Ruby's helpful itinerary pointed out. With special guest appearances by every member of the Royal family even the King and Queen. And Cas was hyperventilating after spending a few days gazing at the palace from a distance. Now he would be up close and personal.

It was the kind of event that segregated reporters behind a barricade. And their only choice was to observe from a distance. Surrounded by lush green grass under a sky that still swelled from promising rain. With the soft hints of flowers' intoxicating scents in the large garden behind the Palace.

The Royal Family's choice of reporter, Terry Wallis was allowed to go beyond the fences. Only because he had been known to color their lives inside his stories as respectful and truthful. And there was one round faced reporter who tried to fight her way through the guards.

"Meg," Ruby said shaking her head and smiling in adoration. "She always does it. Succeeded more than two times too. This one time," her eyes sparkled, "she knocked out a guard and kicked the other one. In his balls. Oops, here she comes." Trying to pretend as if she was fixing her camera, Ruby frowned at the buttons.

"And who is this handsome new face? Fresh meat, I take it?" Meg scanned Castiel's body from head to toe with a satisfied grin. Her hair was wild and she had on a graphic t-shirt with the words 'I love Scissorsing' in bold black letters.

"Castiel," he introduced himself without a handshake. The pair of sunglasses did the job satisfactorily. "I've heard you're quite a wild reporter."

"In bed also. You're not my type though. You know," she leaned in closer. "I can make exceptions."

"Alright, that's enough. Get your own sidekick," Ruby smiled at Meg and the other woman returned the gesture. "What story are you going to write now? I know you love the juicy ones."

After choosing to move away from the others who were growing quite bored and hungry. And agitated. The three of them found that a conversation in need was heavily relied on by what Meg had to contribute. Because apparently Dean wasn't the only brother who possessed a bad streak.

Adam, the eldest was supposedly having an affair with a Duke's wife.

"And she's pregnant. Two weeks. We think the baby is their love child," Meg tried to pry Castiel's sunglasses away from his eyes. But he batted her hand away, scowling deeply. "Hey, you have kissable lips."

"So I've told him. Constantly. How are you going to get proof though? Adam, I mean." Ruby was beginning to hate her Nikon camera. She wished she had brought along the other one. The Canon 90D.

"I'm going to use whatever little I have. Write a fictional love story. And give the press it to chew on. At least when it's released, he will be backed into a corner. Because he knows some of it is true. How much, we will find out soon." Her grin was sweet and innocent.

Castiel thought she was rather like an insane inmate from a psychiatric ward. What resided behind her eyes was obviously twisted and scary. She had no boundaries. But unlike Ruby, Meg had grown to use her charm to destroy and disarm anyone who fell for her weapons.

"Showtime," Ruby suddenly said, prepping her camera and focusing it on a group of people arriving through the concrete archway underneath the palace.

It was Dean, dressed handsomely in a navy-blue long-sleeved shirt coupled with black tailored pants. He was accompanied by Princess Annalise who was decked out in a long yellow sundress with her dark hair tied up in a high ponytail like Ariana Grande. Sam on the other hand, had come alone, leaving behind Eileen, his wife who was rumored to be pregnant.

From the moment Dean passed by the group of reporters that was larger than the crowd outside of the Brighton Hotel, he waved and smiled. And Annalise on the other hand seemed bored, detaching herself from his arm to walk the rest of the way alone. Although the camera flashed, capturing her willingness to separate himself, she could care less. Whilst Dean didn't even seem bothered by any of it.

"I'll give you a good story later on," he called out cheerfully before searching the sea of faces. He couldn't pinpoint Castiel though, who had concealed himself well enough behind a large pair of sunglasses and Meg.

It didn't take long for Sam to notice that his brother's mood had changed drastically after the cheerful welcome.

Dean sauntered into the gardens, seemed distracted throughout the ceremony and couldn't even offer any polite conversation to the other guests who tried to engage him in current affairs. Instead, he secluded himself by a table covered in delicacies and after stuffing his face with pastries, the Prince stared off into the distance, as if searching for someone in the group of reporters.

"You know, I don't get you," Sam sidled up to his brother and picked up a beef patty. He chewed on it and marveled over the taste. His brother remained silent, acknowledging his presence. "Why him?"

"Who?" Dean offered a confused look.

His brother's deliberate attempt to appear clueless was amusing. "The American. The reporter who has Ocean Eyes," Sam said smiling. "And don't tell me that he's a great guy and you have so much in common. Because you don't even know who he is. Not really. I've never seen you get so distracted by someone."

"I'm not distracted," Dean said without smiling back. He picked up another random pastry and walked off. Sam tagged along though. "Look, it's no big deal."

"It is a big deal when you single him out. You glue your eyes to his. And then now, you're looking for him out there with this hopeful expression on your face. It's funny," Sam wouldn't give up as he chased Dean through the garden heavy with smells of flowers.

"Would you leave me alone?"

"Not until you admit it."

"Admit what?" Dean rounded on his brother and stared back. His green eyes sparkled from a fire burning behind them.

Sam, on the other hand was never the type to get crossed easily. He maintained his softened look. "That you're one of the few people on earth who has become the victim to love at first sight and it's not ludicrous. Dean, come on!" His brother had turned on his heels and was taking long strides, away from the taller Winchester. "Nothing's wrong with meeting someone you like. I don't think you've ever liked anyone enough to look for them in a crowd and then get totally depressed when they're not there."

"Drop it, Sam," Dean had lost all humor like his normal self.

"You have to be careful. You know how things are for you. It's not easy and many people will not understand what goes on inside your head. So, you've got to take it easy, especially for your own safety."

"No chick flick moments," Dean mumbled, letting the actuality sink in. His brother's words were ringing with truth.

"All I'm saying is, fine. You met him in a washroom. Like you told me. He wowed you because there was something about him that you just couldn't shake off. Those are your exact words," Sam sought out a mutual understanding. "Something that you found interesting enough and you can't tell me why. Up to now. Except that he has these eyes that pulled you in and drowned you. Your exact words again."

"Are you done now?" Dean scowled, shoving his hands in his pants' pockets. The wind lifted his hair a bit. The weather was becoming more threatening of heavy rain.

"Dean, why are you getting so defensive?"

"Because I know what you're going to say to me," the other man said stiffly. It was quite unlike him. Always flamboyant. Smiling. Amused. "You're going to tell me that it's stupid."

"It's not stupid, Dean," Sam said softly. "Like I said, I've never seen you behave this way about anyone else. Ever. Based on the circumstances how you two met, with anyone else I would have laughed at it. Possibly called it off as something crazy that you could meet someone just like that and find them interesting enough to go out of your way…" his brother sighed. "…to openly make comments like the ones you did in front of the cameras."

"I have nothing to hide," Dean said with a shrug. "I don't care about what they write about me. Because they've written enough."

"I'm just worried that if you pursue this, and you do end up getting more involved, dad will step in," Sam said regrettably. "And he will do exactly what he did when I was in love with a commoner as he likes to put it."

"Can't I have a little fun?" Dean laughed nervously. "I mean, come on. I chase the booze and the thrills. I have a good time all the time. But when it comes to love, I've never been privileged to fall. Now, I'm actually chasing the feeling. And I like it."

Sam sighed. Playfully ruffling his brother's hair, he walked them away from the crowds. "Look, you can't just chase feelings, Dean. You remember what happened in Madrid last year? You had an episode and every time you have one of those, you chase something. Only thing different now is that you're chasing a person instead of a freaking million-dollar painting. Which by the way, you've tucked inside your damn cellar?"

Plucking a lily boldly, although such an act was forbidden, he studied it. There was a soft sensation inside his chest. Sam on the other hand, was quite aware of how his brother's mind worked and could figure out what was coming from a mile away after the flower was gazed at intently.

"Dean, don't do it. You know dad wants us to marry people with titles."

"I've never been the type of Prince who is so prejudiced that I judge people because they're not like us."

"I know that."

"I'm going to prove to him and the world that I can fall in love with someone who doesn't have a fancy title. I don't need a Princess or a Duchess. Or a Queen. I want someone who is down to earth and didn't grow up in a damn palace or a castle."

"Nonetheless, a man," Sam said, completely open and entirely amused by his brother's rebellious streak. Pissing off their father seemed to be Dean's life mission. "Who wears t-shirts with funny text on them, skin-tight jeans and his hair looks like he's just had the best sex ever. What if he's straight? What if he's one of those homophobic bastards? Those religious nuts?"

Dean stepped up closer into his brother's personal space and pressed their cheeks together. "Then I will willingly make him change his mind," he whispered into Sam's right ear.

"You saucy minx," the taller Winchester teased with a stunned look and watched his brother walk off in smiles, still holding the flower and on a mission.

By the time their mother had given her opening remarks to the gathering crowd of the Royal Family and other esteemed guests, Dean had consumed a little too much. The punch was gloriously fruity. He had hoped that something in the damn place would be spiked with alcohol but so far, his wishes proved futile.

Instead, he was now being bombarded by the likes of the King's right-hand man Bobby Singer; the Permanent Secretary. A man who was rough around the edges and refused to wear a suit on the job. He was also fantastic around cars, and telling people off if the King so desired. And most days though, he was like a father to Dean, more than John would ever be.

"He means well," Bobby was saying whilst Queen Mary stood in a royal blue gown and spoke about her favorite flowers. "Your dad."

"Really?" Dean offered the man a look of surprise. "The same ass who gave me a gun on my eight birthday?"

"Like I said," Bobby rolled his eyes as King John met Mary by the podium with a tight smile, "he means well. By trying to protect you. The crown ain't no easy business. But he's never done it right with you. And I'm sorry for that. Seems like you've been dealt a bad hand when playing with him."

"Being the middle son does that to you," Dean said with a smirk.

"And yet you fail to realize that if anything happens to Adam, you're next in line," Bobby stared into green eyes. "To become King. There's already talk going around about his affair with that damn…Duke's wife. Crap like that could knock him down a peg or two. And if it is in the crown's interest to take away his title…"

"Adam has always been the favorite son," Dean said warily, admiring how his mother gazed lovingly into John's eyes. It was a love he never understood. "He would do anything to keep me from becoming King. So, frankly, I'm not even thinking about that."

The crowd applauded Mary's remarks on the garden's bloom. The light in her eyes never faded. She was and always would be one of England's most loved Queens.

"What you should be thinking about is what John would do to you if you turn Annalise down," Bobby said after some time had passed. The wind lightly caressed the green grass. "First time you got off easily. Second time he threatened to kick your ass in public. Third time…we might not find a body. Get the drift?"

It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes, something his mother always frowned upon from her sons. And then, there was a sparkle in his eyes, suggestive of so much mischief.

"You ever give a…woman your number and she never texted or called?" he asked the man by his side.

Bobby looked him up and down in disbelief. "You don't give them your number, you idjit. You collect theirs. Thought you had more sense than that. Always thought you were born feet first. Doing everything backwards in this world. But then it ain't your fault that you got a mind that can be your worst enemy."

But Dean had already walked off with a purpose to deliberate another scandal.

By then though, Cas has grown tired of the early afternoon sun and the dull whispers from the people around him. It was too damn annoying to strain one's ears.

Wasps, they all had become. Annoying creatures who had resorted to spreading themselves out, sprawling on the grass as if it was a picnic. Most of them were terrible gossipers. And Ruby had decided that Meg's interest in Adam was far juicer than their current project.

The main topic of the day among the reporters settled on the mysterious man who had stolen the Prince's heart. The man who had suddenly appeared and disappeared. The owner of those captivating 'Ocean Eyes' that bewitched the Prince into making bad decisions. And Castiel's mood had changed into a sour one after being forced to sit among them and listen to their incessant chatter on speculations.

A man they all recognized as Dean's bodyguard came towards the crowd who couldn't conceal their boredom in his arrival. The reporters cast the intrusion off as the security detail fraternizing with a friend in their midst instead of having anything substantial to feed their egotistical appetites.

He had a kind face, very boyish with simple brown eyes. And he was decked out in an all-black attire that gave him the appearance of a rather dangerous criminal. "Is that really you, Ruby?" he asked softly after approaching them, even as the feisty tiny human rose up with fisted hands.

"Depends on who's asking, Billy. And yeah, I remember you."

"Glad you do, Miss Ruby. Good times at the wine festival earlier in the year."

"Coming from the man who could hold his liquor like no other," she smiled sweetly. And there it was, the flare behind those brown eyes.

"Indeed. I was asked to inquire about Castiel Novak," the man said in a whisper, sparing the ears of the people around them.

He smelled faintly of heaven and Ruby was melting like butter. "Why?" she blinked slowly into his mellow brown eyes.

"The Prince. The Duke of York," he said calmly, "asked me to seek you out so that I may ask if Castiel is in good health since he seems to be absent today."

Ruby was impressed by the honesty. She admired the fact that Dean had actually noticed that her handsome friend was somewhat concealed from public scrutiny. Why? Because he was hiding. And for good reason.

"Oh, he's in good health," she said sweetly to him. "Are you in good health, Billy? Would you be in good health later this evening for a drink so that we can—"

"I'm Castiel", he interrupted Ruby's flawless attempt to flirt, coming forward and revealing himself.

It wasn't something that he was ashamed of anymore. If the tabloids wished to defame him, then they had taken the first swing. But he had every right to be confident in his behavior proving that nothing was awry.

"Excellent. No wonder you weren't recognized. I see you've guarded yourself from the sun's rays."

"I have sensitive eyes," Castiel touched his shades. "Being a blood sucker sucks…no pun intended."

"Then I may tell the Prince that you are here and in good spirits?" Billy was impressed by the grand effect the news had cast upon the other man.

After considering Ruby's small nod. "You can tell him that his bold display of antics before the cameras caused a ripple. And I do not like ripples because I—"

"Cas is peachy," Ruby grabbed his arm and smiled at Billy who in turn was trying to tear his eyes away from the very unusual man hiding behind a rather large pair of sunglasses. "Is there anything else we can do for you? Maybe you can give me your number?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake!" Castiel threw up his hands and strode off. Meg was watching the drama unfold with curious eyes and a smile to match her enthusiasm.

"The Prince hoped that he…may have your friend's mobile number. Or a number to reach him," Billy was very much enjoying Ruby's advances. She smelled like leather and lipstick and bad decisions.

"No, you may not have my number," Castiel stated with a scowl. "You know what? He owes me a public apology. Defamation of character, I'd call it. I can't even walk the streets of London, showing my face. This is harassment. Beyond my understanding why he would go out of his way to place the spotlight on someone like me."

"If I may interject," Billy cleared his throat and tried to ignore Ruby sniffing his neck like a tiger about to devour its prey, "the Prince's intentions were pure. He seems to genuinely like you."

"Are you his lap dog?" Castiel's disheveled hair and rather huge blue eyes made him appear like a madman. "Does he throw you treats and you fetch like a good boy?"

"I think…" Ruby said loudly, despising the escalation of the conversation, "that we should all calm down and think this through carefully. Give me a moment," she winked at Billy, strode towards Cas and tugged him away.

"Get your hands off of me. You're fraternizing with the enemy."

"Oh, stop behaving like a drama queen." Ruby placed him at arm's length and inhaled deeply. The look in her eyes wasn't reassuring. Instead it was suggestive of mischief. Of a plan. "I have an idea."

"And we both know that your ideas wind us up into some kind of trouble. I came here to cover a story as an onlooker. Not a damn toy to be trifled with. I will not be chewed on by a snobbish, rather…handsome…but nevertheless immature Prince."

"Just give him your number," Ruby pleaded. "And let him reach out to you. We can use this to our advantage. There's no harm in this because you don't have feelings for him. He obviously wants to fuck your brains out. So, why not let him be your toy? Tease the truth out of him so that we can get a good story and then dump him like his brother dumped me."

"No," Cas folded his arms indignantly although the offer was indeed tempting. He cast his eyes off into the distance.

"Alright, fine," Ruby collected her nerves, strode over to Billy and collected the bit of paper from his hand. Then with the pen he provided, she wrote down Castiel's number and handed it back. "Tell your Prince that my friend sends this with love."

"What?" Castiel was stunned as he ran towards them and wondered what Ruby had done. "You will deliver no such message," he warned Billy but the bodyguard was already walking off with a wide grin on his face. "You hear me?" Castiel shook his fists at the departing man. "Tell him that he owes me an apology!"

But everything changed half an hour later when the two Princes came towards the crowd of reporters. And whilst Sam seemed rather contented with a smile as always, the sparkle in Dean's eyes were more of a mischievous quality.

Even though the flower show wasn't quite finished as yet, it was always their trademark move to leave any event before their parents; trying to show the public that they had colorful lives and places to be. That they were young and always on the move.

Castiel on the other hand wasn't quite done with his sunglasses though. He was still scowling. Still mad at Ruby. And even Meg whispering sexual innuendoes into his right ear couldn't quite calm the simmering discontent.

How dare he?

Those blue eyes latched onto the Prince's approaching figure, in all smiles and confidence. They purposeful stride. The overly handsome features and those perfectly sculpted lips.

How dare he boldly request Castiel's number after creating such a stir in the media?

"It was a good day," Sam said into the phones, small microphones and recorders, hands behind his back and smiling genuinely at the cameras. "The garden looks lovelier than before. I know my mother takes pride in how it is tended to. She likes to boast about the gardens at Westfordshire Palace every single day. So, it is no surprise that…" his speech was stalled when he noticed that Dean had stepped away from his side. "It's no surprise that she promises to open the garden for public viewing next week."

If Castiel could have described the moment that followed in two words, he would have labelled it as 'tragically bewitching'. Or perhaps 'alarmingly pleasing'. Then again, oftentimes when he stubbornly tried to display a sense of disagreement on any matter, inwardly, his intentions were quite the opposite.

How else could he explain the racing heart and the butterflies awakened inside his chest when Dean sought him out? When the Prince came towards him in a steady pace, a spring in his step and those damn gorgeous green eyes alight with fascination as always? Or maybe his fascination was merely reserved for one man now. Because that was the intent; to pick a prize and constantly try to tease the living hell out of it.

As he approached the reporter who had tried to remain anonymous behind sunglasses that made him appear quite adorable, Dean stopped breathing. He couldn't contain his nerves. It was evident that he was overwhelmed and anxious and yet so sure of himself. That when he brought forward the freshly picked lily and presented it to other man, Dean's heart was trembling like a leaf inside his chest.

The entire crowd went wild. Cameras flashed as reporters tried to crowd around but bodyguards muscled them out of the way, therefore creating enough clearance for Dean's presentation to be unobscured and desirous. To be so romantic, that even his brother blinked in awe when he realized what was happening.

The flower filled the distance between them and it was so sudden and so romantic, Castiel died inside from the honest gesture.

"For you," Dean said softly, wishing that he could see those blue eyes again. "I have no intention of defaming your character. Nor do I enjoy you becoming the center of attention because of me. I'm so sorry."

Castiel was staring, completely dumbfounded from the apology. He couldn't even reply based on the current crisis occurring inside his body with the weight of a thousand natural disasters.

"Just know this," Dean leaned in a little closer and the scent of his perfume and an overwhelming rush of Irish Spring dizzied the other man's mind. His lips were inches away from Castiel's right ear. "You're not a toy. If you know what a lily means, you'll know what my intentions are. Take care."

And without sparing another second, he turned on his heels, waved at the crowd of reporters and joined Sam who clapped him on the back.

Whilst Castiel was steadied by Ruby's grasp on his right arm, no one realized that they were being watched. With as much interest as she could muster up. Queen Mary stood by the archway wound with vines and daffodils and she studied the man who had obviously managed to create quite a stir. Not only causing her son to go out of his way to display honest and pure intentions of a wealth of attraction, but also to let the world know that he was changing.

Dean had never done something like that before.

Romantic scandals were left to her two other sons. But not Dean. Never. He had never fallen off his pedestal to stoop before anyone because of love. And of course, there had been brief encounters of his own gender. But never with the intent of pursuing something so passionately.

Now it was clear to Mary that there was more than slight attraction because of the repeated attempts to pursue this one individual. Her son, had just given a man, a flower, for the world to see. And all the pieces were fitting into place.