Chapter 8: Dean

Cas was nervous. Not that anybody who didn´t know him very well would have noticed. Actually, nobody did, as he hadn´t got any friends worth speaking of... he was the reserved, slightly odd translator/ cultural expert, reliable, loyal and thorough, but socially awkward. The feminine staff, ambassy and delegations alike, sometimes fell into raptures about his blue eyes, the unruly black hair; and the ladies liked his earnest, almost overly polite way of talking to them. On the other hand, he had never – never! – made any move of encouragement, not even the slightest hint of interest had ever been noticed; soon enough, they came to the conclusion that Castiel Novak was a weirdo – nice and cute, but still a weirdo.

Castiel was OK with that. It meant that he usually was left alone and had his peace.

It also meant that he was lonely.

He was used to it of course...ever since Takemi had left his life. Cas hadn´t found a friend like him any more – someone he felt deeply connected to, a true soul mate. And being gay, and not making compromises for appearances, he lived pretty celibate. Had lived. Until Sam burst into his life, this absolutely unique mixture of innocence, experience, danger, scary focus, and a hidden kindness despite the murderous character of his profession. And there was the sex, of course. Sam was a force of nature, and Castiel was sore practically everywhere from their untamed, wild, violent encounters.

He hadn´t heard from Sam since the day of the shipment, and Simmon´s death. They´d agreed on keeping contacts to an absolute minimum; each one had his task to fulfil, and once that was done, they would have plenty of time to make up for lost opportunities. Cas wasn´t kidding himself – there was nothing like love, or `relationship´, involved. But the sex was mind blowing, and he liked Sam. As a friend. He already missed the tall man.

„We´re ready, Castiel...let´s get this show on the road!"

His new boss, Alistair McGee, who had happily stepped into Simmon´s place after the desaster at the port. Of course, Castiel had been checked, and double checked, by two secret service men – lie detector and everything (like everyone else at the ambassy). Simmons had been his boss after all, for over two years...and as the translator, he´d been present at all the negotiations, even the pre-talks and inofficial meetings. Well – they didn´t find anything on him, naturally. First, Castiel hadn´t known anything about Simmon´s dark side (until recently, that is); and second, he could easily overrun the lie detector by thinking of his last, rather rough, sex with Sam, accelerating his heartbeat and pulse permanently that way - even if it made him blush and sweat violently during the procedure...but the man operating the machine put it on his general nervousness and excitement. He didn´t see, didn´t feel what Cas saw and felt: Sam´s gorgeous body, bound hands fixed to Cas´ wall, eyes covered with one of his ties, begging...begging for Cas to give him more, more, MORE...his back in front of Cas, covered in sweat, muscles playing when shivers of pleasure ran through the man´s body...and his ass, perfect, firm, sticking out for Cas, waiting for him, waiting to be taken, conquered, possessed...Cas almost had an orgasm just thinking of it, and it cost him to hold things together.

It had worked, though. He was cleared of what little suspicion there was; and re-instated as general translator for the negotiations. They were getting to the big players now...hence it was crucial that Cas be part of the game, if they wanted to make Sam´s plan pay off.

He got up, nodded at Alistair, and followed him down the long corridor.

Showtime.

They´d sit with the biggest transport and trading companies today. The branch most infiltrated by Yakuza, and most crucial to them.

And the man who´d lead the negotiations for them – unknown of course by the US delegation, who only saw the squeaky clean covers Yakuza had for their employees – was the reason for Cas´nervousness.

His name: Dean Winchester.

Being the translator to important political or economical negotiatons had a huge upside as far as Castiel was concerned: it made you the invisible third.

The translator was like a machine, doing his job, being there, but not seen as a person with distinguishable characteristics. Just like the secretaries who frantically scribbled on their notepads in shorthand, or typed into the writing machines. They were the little brownies, elves busying themselves with all the work unseen by the public. And by their own bosses, most times. It was exactly what Castiel wanted.

And now, it was also exactly what he needed.

The room was pretty crowded, they had delegations of the five biggest transport businesses present, each with their own entourage of course...and the American delegation alone consisted of 7 people.

Alistair turned to Castiel, waving him closer over the heads of his assistants.

Castiel elbowed his way through the suits in front of him.

His new boss bowed down conspiratorially.

„I want you to be extremely alert, Novak. I´ve heard the Kuro Tora company´s up to something...they are the biggest fish in the pond, we have to be cautious. I want you to try and get what they are talking among themselves...take notes if you must. Their chief negotiator is a born American, so you´ll not have to translate his parts. Gives you time."

Castiel nodded. Perfect.

Kuro Tora – the Black Tiger. Or: the long arm of Yakuza, right in front of their noses.

Castiel took his seat in the second row, between McGee and the ambassador. It gave him a perfect view on the room without being seen himself. He scanned the long table...everyone was still standing, waiting for McGee to start. After the obligatory polite bowing, they went into the details pretty fast. Castiel had barely a second to roll his shoulders or stretch his back.

He stole furtive glances to the Kuro Tora´s delegation now and then. While every delegation had already presented their statement, the chief negotiator of the most influencial group had not opened his mouth so far; Cas had seen him listen, and watch, with an intensity and focus that was almost scary. Nothing escaped this man. Dean Winchester was as driven as his brother, in his own way...

As busy as Cas was, he couldn´t help watching the man. It was as if his eyes were pulled to him against their will, a secret force made him return to the face to his left time and again...

That face. Downright beautiful, even with the long scar running down the front. Full lips that got his imagination going in directions...his light brown hair was rather short, unusually so, and Cas felt the urge to bury his hands in it, grab the man´s head, and pull it back, far back, and kiss those lips, bite his way down that throat...

It was the kind of face that made people turn; and tricked them into underestimating the man behind it.

But then, there were the eyes.

Castiel shifted on his chair. Sam was looking for the big brother he´d adored.

But who could tell who – what... they had in front of them here...

If the brother is gone...if there is no Dean left ... then God help us, Cas thought.

They were well into the discussion already, when Dean Winchester, chief negotiator of Kuro Tora Trade and Transport Ltd., finally chose to speak. Castiel could tell his boss McGee became increasingly irritated by the man´s silence; even the other Japanese companies´ leaders seemed to feel uncomfortabe with it. Maybe it was this growing tension, maybe the man´s natural authority (or, rather, the subliminal dangerousness he oozed), maybe just the knowledge that his company represented more power than the other four put together, even in the official version – Cas wasn´t sure; but Dean raised his hand, got up, and bowed, as was requested by Japanese etichette – and the room went absolutely silent.

The voice...

Dark, Castiel thought. A dark voice...blue, almost black. Midnight blue...with a few silvery sparks in it...very few. He had no idea where this picture came from, he had never thought about voices that way; he heard Dean say the first polite phrases – in Japanese - ...and there it was. Together with goosebumps running down from his neck to his toes. Cas stared at the man from the safety of his half hidden place. Sam came to his mind, unvoluntarily...the way he seemed to vibrate with vitality, a physical, sexual power invading his surroundings...Dean had that power, too – but a completely different version. His was controlled to an extent it was ...scary. Sam, of course, was perfectly in control of his body, too (well – Cas had seen him lose it, of course, but willingly, and enjoying an extasy so deep it made you wonder how he managed to ever come back from it). But Dean...Dean seemed... he was a bomb ready to explode if you pressed the right button.

He doesn´t even seem human, Cas thought. And he had to admit...it scared him.

Cas listened, watched, translated, made notes. For hours...until his head was spinning. They had had their short breaks, and one longer one for lunch; but as he was needed as a translator there, too, he didn´t have time to actually relax. All the time, the magnetic force of Dean Winchester kept pulling, teasing... it was starting to annoy him, but he couldn´t stop – he found himself analyzing the man´s voice, his body language (as far as there WAS any), the smallest changes in his facial expression. He noticed, after more than three hours, that there was one thing that gave emotions away. Of course, it was the eyes. Those mossy green eyes, so cool, and inscrutable...unreadable: On occasion, they grew darker, as if a cloud was covering the sun, taking away the color. Sometimes he saw a dimple show for a second, in an unusual place, right above the corners of his mouth...in a poker game, this would be crucial information, Cas thought. If I could tell what it stood for: anger? Tension? Satisfaction? Excitement? But then...this IS a poker game. And we are playing for a lot of chips here.

It was shortly after lunch break when he got a glimpse of the person hidden behind the scary perfection. Discussion got a little heated – for Japanese measures -, and Cas only just managed to translate everything that was said, when Dean got up again. The few people still talking at that moment were met by a stare that probably burnt their souls away. Cas shivered. Had it become cold in the room all of a sudden?

Then Winchester talked, calmly, reasonably, making a few propositions, giving the US side credit, but not pulling back in any matter of importance. He had the whole room nodding within minutes...How does he do it? Cas asked himself. He´s good...really good. Scarily good.

He bowed slightly to the left so he could see Dean better; and yes, the man seemed made for situations like this one, sure of himself, elegant, clear and polite in his words. Damn beautiful, dangerous and sexy, Castiel added, studying the face, and in this moment, Dean turned his head, and met his eyes.

For a second, they both froze. Cas blushed furiously... he saw a brief flash lighten the cool eyes, a glimpse of springy green...and then, interest. He felt the eyes scan his face for the shortest instant, and took in the appreciative widening of Dean´s pupils...want. There was want, predatory and needy at the same time, and... a kind of regretful sadness...and it confused Cas, because it didn´t fit well with the rest of the man, or his performance in this room so far.

All of it happened within an instant, and no one else seemed to have noticed...

Dean slipped back into his previous mode, and the moment was gone.

„And who might you be ... the US delegation´s translator, I guess?"

Castiel turned, and stared into a pair of green eyes. Dangerous eyes...but this time, dangerous in a different sense. He gulped.

„y- yes?"

The green eyes darted back and forth in between his own for a moment; and Cas was struck by the fact how changed they seemed just for this instant: gone were the self-confidence, the coldness, the lack of emotion. Oh, he could see emotion in them now – a second of longing, and insecurity, and confusion. So much confusion.

For one second.

„Dean Winchester. I´m here for the Kuro Tora Company." Cas needed a few seconds to realize the other man had his hand stretched out in front of him. What he´d seen...it was wiped away by the polite, cool mask again. Well, with a hint of amusement mixed into it.

„C- castiel Novak...I´m the translator.."

„I figured..."

Dean smiled at him, and there was a spark of warmth in the cool eyes. He´s still in there, Castiel thought. Dean...Sam´s Dean. He´s still alive deep down in this ...scary Yakuza version.

He smiled back.

Confusion...and surprise. He saw it again. And it made him hope.

Somebody wanted to talk to Dean, and he excused himself politely; and then, the break was over, and they sat in the crowded room again. He didnt look at Castiel again; and Cas found that it hurt to be ignored.

What did you expect, he asked himself. Soulful glances? He is Yakuza´s new prince. A dangerous criminal – if not now, then soon enough. A wheel in their well oiled machine...

He´s been put through Yakuza´s mill for years. Who knows how deep the old Dean is buried in there...

When McGee declared the negotiations closed, everyone bowed again; Cas stole a glance at Dean´s lean, elegant figure. Straightening up again, he suddenly found the green eyes on him once more... and there it was ...again...the frozen moment. Everyone, everything seemed to fade into the background...vanish...time – time had ceased to exist, and there was nothing, nothing left, no sound but the beating of his heart. tadamm...tadamm...tadamm...

Save me, the green eyes said.

There were voices, and chairs scratching over the wooden floor. Sound and smells and movement all around. Somebody padded his shoulder, people said good night and good bye...

Castiel just stood there, dazed, a figure watching a scene in a dream. Watched the only other man in the room turn and leave, encircled by his Japanese delegation. Saw him vanish through the door.

„Novak? Castiel? Come on, we´re done here."

Alistair´s frowing face appeared in front of his eyes.

„Are you allright? You need some fresh air, Novak. It has been a hell of a day."

Cas shook his head to shy away the weird feeling. Then he nodded slowly.

„Yes...yes. I´m coming."