Notes: Okay, I added a bit of flourish to this chapter. There was potential for chick-flicky moments and I had to take them. I'm also setting stuff up for later stories that you may or may not pick up on…..Anyway! This chapter is one of the longer ones, so I do hope that you enjoy it! Time for some fencing and feelings!

To my awesome reviewers!

West189: Many thanks! I stole them from the president.

winnJennster: HEART!

Disclaimer: *sniff sniff* I own nothing this nice D'X

CHAPTER 8

These hallways had lovely wallpaper on them, he thinks to himself. Cas notices the lovely golden swirls as he moves silently through the hotel, following that bright and warm glow. He closes his eyes to see it better and continues on.

He comes to abrupt stop when his nose starts hurt like a bitch, as Dean would say. He opens his eyes to see what had hit him so rudely in the face to see that he had walked into an ornate door. He starts to stare down the door, seeing that the glow in fact does emanate from inside the room on the other side. A quick testing of the doorknob he finds it locked. No problem though, he wraps his hand a little tighter around the handle and turns sharply, snapping the lock away and opening to door easily.

Walking in he sees a lavish suite. He also notices that the lights are low, and Cas wonders if Dean is asleep. But the sounds coming from the attached room suggest that he was wrong.

Quietly entering the next room, Cas sees Dean. His coat has been taken off, his shirt sleeves rolled up and he's brandishing a sword with ridiculous flourishes. Cas can't help but compare it to children taking swings at a piñata. He giggles, and it startles Dean.

The captain swirls around so fast he almost loses his balance.

"Jeez, Cas! What the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that!? I could have hurt you," said Dean sounding somewhat pisses at Cas but perhaps a bit more on the startled side. Cas steps forward and gestures lamely at the sword in Dean's hands.

"I'm afraid that if you hold the sword like that all you will be able to cut is butter," informed Cas solemnly, but then he giggled again. "Were you able to get any candy yet?"

Dean scrunched his face up in confusion and then shook it off. "Cas, what are you doing here? I told you to go back to the Impala."

Cas looked up brightly, "You told me to be safe, and the Impala is not safe at the moment, so I came to find you. I'm safest when I'm with you!" He repeated Dean's own words from earlier that day and Dean groaned.

"Yeah, yeah. You're safe with me, but what's going on at the Impala that makes you think it's not safe?" Dean asks concerned. Cas wandered away, starting to inspect the rest of the hotel room. He picked up random object and flipped them over, looking inside of pots as if looking for anything hidden away in their depths.

He was slow to answer, "Slimy substance got on the ship. Crew has to clean up before they can come, but it seems to be stubborn in leaving the upholstery," he informed absently. He moved to the bed where there was a bag of toiletries and he started to go through each item.

Dean scrubbed a hand at his face; Cas was being difficult tonight it seemed.

"I see. So are you going to bunk here tonight?" He asked tiredly as Cas started to inspect the bristles on Dean's toothbrush.

"I don't sleep," he stated as if he didn't remind Dean of this every day.

Dean sighed, "Well I need at least four hours, so…." He trailed off. Maybe he could get Cas to go back to the Impala without a struggle if he was lucky. Maybe he could also get him to leave before he got to the shaving cream….

Seems he wasn't that lucky, "I'll watch over you." Cas said, eyes wide with innocence and voice full of sincerity and earnestness. Cas then found the shaving cream and got a healthy dollop squirted right onto the sheets of the bed. It almost hurt Dean to see someone so willing to look after him for a change, but he didn't much care about the bed at the moment. He probably wouldn't be able to sleep tonight anyway.

"Now, that ain't gonna happen." Cas didn't move and continued to pick through his stuff, picking out the toothpaste and sniffing at the contents. Dean sighed again, "I guess you can stay here for a bit. But stay out of the way, I'm trying to practice my moves here."

Cas snorts.

Dean turns to him, "Oh, what is that snort for? There something funny about this situation that I don't know about?"

"I was merely amused by your horrendous attempts at fighting with the invisible man, who by the looks of your swings is about 6 feet wide." Cas says seriously.

Dean can only look at Castiel shocked for a beat before trying to defend himself, "Hey, I admit that I'm more of a gun guy, but I also know that I am a damn good fighter and I'm not too shabby with knives. Can't be that much different…." He mumbled, mostly trying to convince himself of the last part. And he starts swinging the sword around again with a renewed frantic bout of swipes. Behind him Cas gets up from the bed and puts Dean's comb down. He watches Dean for a moment before shaking his head and coming up behind him and placing a hand on one of Dean's arms.

"Lower this," he says in his low and gravelly voice. The sounds sent shivers down Dean's spine and he moved his arm down a bit more to where Cas indicated.

"Now relax your shoulders." Cas moved his hands to Dean's shoulders and squeezed them until he felt Dean relax under him. "Hold the sword in a tight grip, but don't let that tightness reach your wrist." As he spoke he ran his hand down Dean's arm, the muscles becoming looser with each inch of skin he passes over. Dean's mouth went dry, but he did what he was told, and tried to focus on what he was being taught.

Suddenly the warmth next to him was gone and Cas was moving towards the bed, where the other sword was resting. Dean watched confused as Cas picked it up and swished it in intricate motions that showed experience with a blade. He never ceased to amaze Dean.

Cas turned to Dean after his quick warm up and smiled widely, "Attack me."

It took Dean a moment to respond, "Cas, I don't think…"

"I shall be fine. If you continue to treat me like a paper mache donkey then I am in no danger." Cas said happily and stepped closer so that Dean had a better shot. Dean took offense to that, he thinks. He's not actually sure what Cas was talking about, but he wouldn't be shown up by some nerdy dude who couldn't even wear a tie correctly.

"All right, but if you end up hurt, you're explaining to Gabriel what happened." Dean warned and then lunged clumsily at Cas who easily sidestepped him and disarmed Dean with just a small flick of his wrist.

Dean was dumbfounded when he finally caught his footing again and went to collect his weapon, all the while looking incredulously at his tutor.

"Now, how did I avoid that?" Cas asks merrily, like Dean was a kindergartener who was being asked how the teacher added two and two.

"By being fast like a freak," he asked harshly. Cas laughs at that.

"That may be true. But your patter of attack, it's in a complete repetitious phase. One would not need to be faster than a snail to avoid it, just intelligent enough to know that you would always pick scissors." Cas informed him with a smirk. He was holding the sword loosely in his hand, clearly not threatened by Dean.

Dean was still lost. "English please?"

"And I am not wood to be chopped. You don't need to swing all the way from your shoulder. You have to thrust forward, or swing from the elbow. Like drawing pictures in the dirt." He said gently.

Dean thinks he understood that one, "Swinging from the shoulder feels stronger though."

Cas came forward at that and touches his arm in the same way again, getting the shoulder in the right position and adjusting Dean's grip again. This time he doesn't let go. Instead he moves Dean's arm, controlling the movements and demonstrating the elbow and wrist movements and showing the proper arm extension for a thrusting motion. It feels much smoother to Dean, but still too light. He tries the movements himself with more force behind them, but Cas holds firm.

"No. Too much power. It may be stronger, but it is also slower. For a duel of this kind you need speed. You are all such fragile creatures. It takes less than a pound of pressure to cut the skin of a human." Cas informs him, sounding like the whole idea was some wondrous fact and not creepy as hell that he knew that.

Dean snorted trying the motions again, but slower this time, "You know that for a fact? Is that something they teach you on the inner planets, or at the Host?"There was no answer to that. He feels Cas move away slowly behind him and Dean mentally slaps himself. How could he be so stupid to bring up that place to Cas?

He turned to look at Cas to apologize for being an ass, but the other man didn't look like he was about to go into a breakdown or start humming again. Instead he was looking at the sword in his hands sadly and Dean didn't know what to say next.

"I learned many things there Dean. It wasn't a factory to make freaks. It was…something else. They had a purpose for me, and I was trained like a soldier." He whispered.

"A soldier for what?" Dean asked, just as softy.

Cas raised his eyes to meet Dean's, "I wasn't privy to such information."

Then without warning he moved forward quickly with his sword raised, and Dean reacted on instinct and raised his own sword in defense, blocking Castiel's attack and pushing him back.

Cas smiled at this and let out a whoop of celebration, "Very good! You are not a lost cause like I thought!"

"Well jeez, thanks."

"You're welcome," he answers sincerely. "But you still will be killed unless you improve some more."

"Great, well, what's next then?" Dean asks, rolling his eyes.

"Repeat these steps," and Cas starts to break down his earlier warm-up swings into steps and shows them to Dean to mimic. Dean tries each movement slowly, getting a feel for each step. Cas has him continue these for the next half hour, with Cas watching and adding helpful tips here and there. He continued to sit on Dean's bed, adjusting himself differently every few minutes, like his back hurt him.

Soon Dean is feeling a little bit more confident with each passing minute and Cas hasn't offered any comments for a while. The Captain continued with the steps, his harsh breathing filling the silence. But the silence is finally broken when Cas asks him a question.

"Did your father teach you to fight?"

Dean pauses before answering. It had been a long time since he let himself think about his dad more than in passing. It was a painful path to go down, but this question was far enough back in his life that he felt he could share this, but only with Cas. He wasn't about to go spewing feelings around the crew.

"Yeah. I was trained to be a soldier by Dad. So was Sammy, even if he didn't want it. We were Hunters before we really understood what that meant. But it never felt wrong to me. I felt like I was born to be a Hunter because it was all I was ever good at. Did you know I made my first sawed-off when I was ten? And I shot my first gun when I was six, Dad was the one who taught me. They were the only times that I really felt close to him." Dean's confession startled even himself. He didn't plan on revealing that much, but he felt safe telling it to Cas.

Cas decided to confess something of his own, "I wish that I had fond memories of my own father, like you do. Your father may have been harsh on you and Sam, but he was there for you. I can't even recall what my Father looked like. I just…I just knew that I loved him dearly and that I hoped to join him at his side if I was a good enough son. But…I don't…." He stopped himself there. He didn't know anything about what he felt about his Father now. He didn't even know where he was. He used to believe as a child that his Father knew everything and could fix anything, and now he wished he could believe that more than ever, but he just didn't know anymore. He rubs absently at his aching shoulders.

Dean seemed to understand though. He walked over to where Cas was sitting on the bed rubbing at his head like it ached, and he put a hand on Cas' shoulder, "Hey, I've been there. I'm a big expert on deadbeat dads. I get it. I know how you feel." He squeezed the other man's shoulder comfortingly.

"How do you manage it?" Cas asked raising wide and sad blue eyes to meet Dean's gaze. He sounded so lost. Dean wasn't sure that Cas was asking about just how to handle his Daddy issues or if he was talking about something entirely different.

"Well, on a good day…you get to punch dicks like Zachariah in the face." He smirked at Cas, who only looked up with one raised eyebrow at Dean.

"Dean, punching him in the face will not suffice at the duel. You will need to gut him," Cas reminded him like he was telling Dean not to just eat his cookie for lunch, but the sandwich too.

Dean laughed out loud, "Yeah, this is a civilized event after all. For gentlemen, and can't go messing up our dainty soft hands when we can stab each other in the stomachs instead."

Cas just sighed softly, "It seems we can never go out anymore since you keep starting fights."

"Hey, I didn't do this to prove a point, even though that guy was being a total dick-wad. I actually thought I was defending your honor…and Anna's honor. I never back down from a fight either," he added quickly.

Cas looked at him doubtfully, "Yes you do."

Dean had to give him that, "Yeah, okay. But I'm not backing down from this one."

"And your death will help with our honor, how?" Cas asked, sounding actually curious.

Dean stuttered, "Um…well, just…how was that last set of swings I did?" He asked, trying to change the subject. Cas seemed to consider what he recalled from Dean's latest tries with the blade.

"Any slower and you'd need to be watered once a week," says Cas firmly.

"What!? I thought that last one was pretty good! Show me again."

BWAH! So cute!