The following Monday, Sam woke up in a good mood for a change. He didn't know what it was , but he just had a feeling that it was going to be an okay day. He'd promised Dean that he would head over that evening to finish the Impala and to accompany him on their first trip. But it wasn't that which was making Sam's mood lift. He hummed to himself whilst he showered and dressed, and was out of the door early. There was hardly a soul in his carriage on the train, and those who were there were quiet. In fact, Sam was starting to think that maybe something was actually wrong, until he remembered that it was the first week of the summer holidays, which was the reason for the lack of children on the journey. Stepping off the train in the city, he wove his way in and out of all the other businessmen and women as he headed towards the station exit. He had decided to treat himself to a coffee from 'Coffee Heaven', considering that it had been such a good morning so far. Although he could brew himself a coffee at the office, there was always something special about a professionally made drink from a fancy machine. When Sam approached the shop and read the sign, he couldn't help but let out a laugh.
'Today your barista is: hella fucking gay and desperately single. For your drink today, I recommend you give me your number.'
Pushing open the door, Sam stepped through, and didn't immediately recognise the serving barista. As he approached the counter, he recognised the short, golden eyed server as Gabriel. Known for being a prankster, Sam appreciated the humour behind the sign. He didn't notice however, the way Gabriel's eyes trailed up and down his body as he walked.
"What can I get you today?" Gabriel asked as Sam reached him. The small café was pretty much empty, which was surprising at this time on a Monday morning, so Sam had Gabriel's full attention.
"I would take the daily special, but as I have no idea what that is, I'll just have a regular," Sam replied with a smile. "Nice sign, by the way." Gabriel smiled back, and his eyes twinkled in mischief.
"I bet you say that to all the baristas." Gabriel's answer was flirtatious, and he winked so subtly, that if Sam hadn't been looking straight at him, he would have missed it. He was a bit flabbergasted and tongue-tied at how open Gabriel seemed to be being. It was almost a relief for Sam when Gabriel turned away to make his drink, because it gave him a minute to take stock of the situation. Sam wasn't unused to flirtatious attention, though it usually came from members of the opposite sex. During college, Sam had dabbled into the idea of being bisexual, so the fact that Gabriel was hitting on him didn't affect him. It had just been that since college, he hadn't been interested in the opposite sex much at all, and merely had concentrated on graduating Stanford and starting his law career. He couldn't believe his luck when he had gotten in internship with a prestigious law firm, and then only three years later was made a partner. His focus had always been law, and though he had had a party stage in college, he never really took his eye off the ball. Dean had encouraged him in everything, more so than their father had, and Sam owed a lot to him. In a sense, Dean had been more of a father to him than John ever had. Sam didn't realise that he had been staring straight at Gabriel while he was thinking, until the barista turned around and caught him. The beam that spread across Gabriel's features was so stunning, that Sam felt himself smiling back almost unconsciously, before lowering his gaze, the tips of his ears turning slightly red.
"One regular," Gabriel said. "That'll be $2.95. Or you know, I occasionally take payment in other means." He quirked an eyebrow and winked at Sam, whose blush spread from his ears, and began blossoming over his cheeks as well. Sam handed over $5 bill in exchange for his drink.
"Keep the change," he said, and hurried out of the café to the sound of Gabriel's chuckling. As he turned to shut the door properly, he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the barista's slightly disappointed face, and Sam mentally chastised himself for being so rude. However, the encounter hadn't managed to bring Sam's mood down in the slightest.
"Caine and Winchester, Sam speaking." The phone in Sam's office had barely stopped ringing all morning, and it wasn't surprising that he answered his mobile in the same manner, considering it sat charging next to his desk phone. "Oh shit, sorry," he said, when Dean's laughter came ringing down the phone.
"Oh dude, that is priceless. That never gets old!" Dean said chuckling. "And I hope you never get confused and say that on your desk phone." Sam rolled his eyes.
"What do you want, Dean?" Sam asked impatiently, though he was smiling at the same time. "I'm supposed to be working."
"You say that as if you've been not working for a time." Dean's statement was partially true, Sam had been taking a break from the solid influx of calls, and had been reclining in his chair, contemplating kicking off his shoes and putting his feet up on the desk. It wasn't often that Sam gave in to that urge though, because sometimes clients had the habit of popping in, and hurrying across the office to greet them in just his socks was something that Sam ultimately wanted to avoid.
"Dean," Sam said warningly, before changing his tone. "What's up?" Dean was still chuckling slightly as Sam spoke, and Sam had to fight the urge to join in. Dean's happiness was infectious, and Sam had a sneaking suspicion that part of it was due to his beloved car.
"We had some spare time this morning and Bobby allowed me to use it on Baby!"
"No way, dude, are you serious?" Sam's shock was evident, he knew that Bobby rarely wanted Dean to work on the Impala during work hours, but if it had been quiet over the shop, the cranky old man sometimes had moments of lenience.
"How about you come out front and I'll show you exactly how serious I am?" Dean replied. Sam hung up his phone and grabbed his jacket, and was across the office and heading out before finishing saying he was taking an early lunch. He knew just how long Dean had been waiting for this moment, and he didn't want to drag it out a second longer than strictly necessary.
The Impala was everything that Dean had talked her up to be. Sam had been listening to Dean talk about her for months now, and he was glad that he was finally able to appreciate her for all of her quirks. Sam knew that Dean had knows that she was never going to be perfect, but the pure joy on Dean's face as he sat behind the wheel with his rock music playing from the stereo was a picture that Sam wanted to remember for a long time. Dean drove them to the outskirts of the city, where Sam promised to buy lunch, considering he knew that Dean had spent every spare dime he had on the car recently. But Sam didn't mind, he was glad to have some quality time with his brother away from the shop.
"She's great, Dean, she really is," Sam mused as they pulled up in the parking lot of a cheesy looking diner. "I can't believe you've actually managed to get her on the road." Dean smiled wistfully, running his hand over the dash before getting out.
"Neither can I. But she's worth every cent I paid for her," Dean replied, making sure that the doors were locked before they headed in the direction of the door. Even though the diner didn't look like much from the outside, Dean insisted that they had the 'best god-damn burgers this side of the county'. Sam was more than happy to oblige Dean, and he couldn't resist the call of a good burger every now and then. As they got themselves seated in booth near the corner – Dean's choice out of habit so that he could keep watch on all the coming and going of everyone else, Sam allowed his eyes to wander around the room as well. Because of the noticeboard outside of 'Coffee Heaven', Sam had a tendency to read the specials board in every establishment that the went to, though he was frequently disappointed. Nowhere else seemed to use them in the humours way that the café did, but Sam lived in hope that the sign trend would catch on.
It wasn't until Sam and Dean were about to leave the diner that Sam noticed there was a small drawing on the bottom of the specials board. Motioning to Dean to go ahead and that he would catch up, Sam crossed the diner quickly to have a look at the board. What he saw there surprised him, for he was pretty sure that the diner owners hadn't noticed. It was a picture of a take-out coffee with a halo. He smiled to himself and glanced around the diner once more before he walked out. As his eyes scanned the kitchen briefly, he could have sworn he saw someone who he thought looked like Castiel washing dishes in the back, but his view became blocked by a waitress serving behind the counter. Shaking his head, he thought to himself that he was imagining it due to the picture on the board, and he made his way out of the diner and across to where Dean was waiting in the driving seat of the Impala.
"Anything good happen?" Dean said, opening his eyes as Sam slid into the passenger seat. He shrugged, trying to shake the feeling that it was Castiel working there.
"No, I thought I saw someone that I knew, but it wasn't them," Sam replied. He had opted not to tell Dean about the picture on the sign, because he knew that his brother wouldn't understand. An the fact that Dean would probably call him strange for being attracted to little things on signs. But it was the little things in life that made Sam smile, because of the fact that someone else took time out of their day to make others happy. And that was something that Sam knew that Dean never thought about. Although Dean wasn't selfish, he never had had the knack of spreading feelings of happiness, unless it had something to do with cars. But the little drawing on the board in the diner made Sam smile, and that was all that mattered.
Sam spent the afternoon with his head buried in mountains of paperwork from one case or another. Although Sam enjoyed his work, all he could think about that afternoon was Dean and the car, and the coffee cup drawing at the diner. However, Sam knew that he had to focus on the job at hand, rather than stress over something that actually had little or nothing to do with him as a person. Taking a file off the top of his desk, he leant back in his chair and sighed. Opening the file to the relevant page he began to read through his notes on the case in preparation for the hearing the next day. It wasn't as though he actually needed to – the case had been going on for months and Sam knew it inside out – but more as a refresher of the demands that the opposition had placed after the last time it had gone to court. What Sam couldn't understand was why the case was dragging on so long. Sam thought that he had managed to settle the dispute the last time it had cropped up, so it was just a thorn in his side that it had cropped up again. Resisting the urge to throw the file across the room, he closed it and placed it to one side, before reaching for the next. The second case was a relatively new one on Sam; he hadn't had much previous experience with cases involving domestic abuse, but his partner in the firm had been too busy when the case first cropped up, and now Sam was the one that the client trusted to talk to. He scanned down the list of new details added, such as the more recent cases of abuse, and made a mental note to call the lady the next afternoon to schedule an appointment. They had already gained divorce papers on the grounds of assault, but Sam was also working on getting his client a restraining order from her ex-husband, due to the continuation of his psychological abuse. Although the situation wasn't rare in the world of law – far from it in fact – Sam was still working on his grasp of the whole concept of the abuse system within courts of law. In an ideal world, Sam would have like to have been able to grant his client a restraining order at the time of the divorce, however, the court had ruled that once the partners were not living under the same roof, that the abuse should peter itself out. Which, in a sense, it did. However, merely a week after the divorce had been filed, Sam's client had rung up and said that she was receiving threatening messages on her mobile, her answering machine, and in the form of e-mails; all from her ex-partner. That had led to where the case was now. However, the opposition was saying that there wasn't enough tangible proof that it was the ex in order for the restraining order to go through. Sam didn't believe the bullshit in that though, which is why he was still fighting the case for his client. All of the calls had come from the same number, which his client had identified as her ex partners second phone. Sam just had to get the court and the jury to investigate the ownership of the phone and who the number was registered to. He hoped that he would be able to do that soon, more for the benefit of his client than for the chance of getting another pay-check. Sam felt that his clients needs should come before his own, which also spilt into his relationship with Dean. He would always put his brother's needs before his own.
When Sam left the office that night, he was running a little later than usual. He'd lost track of time whilst reading through his case files. He was the last one in the office; even the cleaner had been and gone before him. He locked up carefully, ensuring that his office window was shut as he left. He had a habit of leaving it open, and normally it wasn't a problem as the cleaner was there after him. He knew how important it was to keep the office secure though, as a lot of the files in it contained confidential information. Sam didn't know who was the type of person who would break into a lawyers office to read files, and he didn't think he ever wanted to meet someone who wanted to, either. As he leant over to grab the handle of the window, he looked out, and saw that the street was practically empty, even though it wasn't overly late. Although it wasn't unusual for the street to have it's clear moments, Sam did expect to see more people than he saw there now. He slammed the window shut, before gathering up his things and heading out. Despite the fact that Dean had taken him out for a spin in the Impala earlier, Sam had a sneaking feeling that Dean would want to take him out for a proper spin, outside of the city. There was nothing that Dean loved more than taking his cars out for seemingly pointless rides across the country. But Sam could see the appeal. It was rare that the two brothers spent that much time together any more. When they were younger, there were endless road trips with their dad, where the two of them would sit in the back and play childish games, or just enjoy each others company. Sam sort of missed those days, so it was nice when he and Dean reminisced.
Sam made his way wearily off the train at his stop towards his place. It wasn't a long journey, but the afternoon spent reading up on cases had started to take its toll on Sam. His head was full of names and details, and he was quite looking forward to taking a hot shower and relaxing in front of the television with his dinner. It was the same every evening; Sam didn't really have anyone to come home to, so his routine was his own. He enjoyed the fact that he never had to make an effort when he got home; he would have resented having someone there who expected him to be anything but himself. Although Sam did occasionally miss the pleasure of company, Dean called round often enough for him not to pay much attention to it. Sam hadn't had really had someone spend the night over at his place – someone who wasn't family that is – since Stanford, not that it was a regular occurrence then either. Dean tried to tell Sam that he was missing out on things by not going to parties, or to bars, or even just out in general. Sam merely laughed him off and carried on. Dean's good natured teasing had followed him through life, and Sam was no stranger to giving back the digs as good as he got, often referring to Dean as a wingman he never asked for, and he once accused Dean of having hollow legs due to the amount of food and beer he consumed without ever seeming to gain a pound. Sam didn't think that things were normal unless he and Dean were teasing each other over something, which is exactly what started happening the minute Dean pulled up outside in the shiny black Impala.
Fuck I'm so sorry it took forever to get this thing out to you guys. I feel like such a terrible person. But I've had a lot happen in my life since I posted the first chapter of this so it took a back seat to everything. I'm going to attempt to get into the swing of writing a little bit on this every day, but hey. I always say things like that.
But if I have any readers from the first chapter of this, welcome back! I hopefully wont make you wait this long again.