Training with the two-year-olds had been progressing so well over the past month, Dean decided it was time to take them to a full track. Keenland was Lexington's local racetrack, and he would be able to simulate race day environments much better at the track rather than in their bullring. There would be other horses around and the turns wouldn't be as tight.

Dean was also meeting their new jockey there to ease the workload off of Gabriel. The older of the two Novak brothers would never admit to it, but Dean could tell he was getting a little stressed out riding the two-year-olds and the other four and five-year-olds at the barn. Garth Fitzgerald IV had ridden for Dean a couple of years ago, and the tiny jockey was good… but he was extremely weird.

Garth was waiting by the stalls Dean had rented for the week, just as he was instructed to do; his face lit up like a Christmas tree when he spotted the trainer and he had his arms wrapped around the larger man quicker than anyone could blink. "Dean! It's so good to see you again!"

Dean's body tensed up with a heavy frown, but he knew there was no running from Garth's hugs. "Uh, yeah, that's enough."

"And Gabriel!" Garth went to hug the other jockey, but Gabriel held out a hand that pressed right against Garth's forehead as he approached.

"Not today, buddy," Gabriel huffed, but it did little to sway Garth as he ducked under and curled around Gabriel's waist. Dean couldn't help but smirk when he saw that Gabriel was giving Dean a bitch-face that rivaled his brother on the best of days.

Garth's attention then turned towards Castiel who received the biggest hug of them all. "It's an honor to ride your horses!"

Castiel removed his glasses and began wiping the lenses with the bottom of his shirt. "Dean speaks highly of you."

It was very difficult for Dean to keep his eyes from rolling. If that was how Castiel wanted to word it, fine, but that was hardly what it was. Garth and Gabriel were a lot alike to Dean in the fact that he definitely did not keep them around for personality. At least he knew Garth wouldn't purposely piss him off, just reach mild aggravation. "Ok, I think we've all done introductions. Charlie, our groom, is getting the horses off the trailer and settled in. Today is going to be an easy three furlongs to get them used to everything. I want Mystery and Lazarus to run together and then Frenchie and Kansas. Garth, you'll be riding Mystery and Kansas. I want you to use Kansas more as a pacer horse; lose on purpose. He's been there, done that, but Frenchie needs a little confidence booster."

Garth nodded in understanding, "Ok, no problem, but what about Mystery?"

"No, no," Dean shook his head, "Let him go. Treat it like a real race. I have a pretty good feeling they'll thrive off of the competition."

"Okidoki, then," Garth grinned. "I'll grab my saddle!"

Gabriel mimicked gagging motions as Garth walked away. "Out of all the goddamn jockeys, Dean-o."

"He's...nice," Castiel offered, unsure of the correct word to use to describe the man.

"He wins. That's all that we should care about," Dean pulled out some sort of brochure and a pencil from his pocket. "I'm going to go watch the other workouts. I'll meet you and Garth at the gate," Dean spoke in the direction of Gabriel.

"May I join you?" Castiel asked.

Dean gave a nod and motioned for the other man to walk with them as they talked. "This will be our first glance at the competition. A lot of good racehorses come out of Kentucky, and we will be sure to see some of these same horses down the line."

Castiel quickened his pace to match Dean's and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Is there anyone in particular that concerns you?"

Dean gave a snort and found his eyes wandering the crowd much more than before, "I can name a few." There was someone in particular that Dean knew stabled in the area that concerned him greatly, but all he could do was pray they would not cross paths. Finding a comfortable spot on the rail he began scanning the various horses, jockeys, and trainers that were at work. There were plenty that he recognized. Pulling the cap off his pen with his teeth he began to scribble notes down on his pad.

Castiel peered over his shoulder going far beyond the boundary for personal space. "What is it you are looking for?"

"Scoping out the competition, Cas," Dean answered as if it were obvious. "Until some of these two-year-olds race, this is the only information you get."

"I understand the concept, but I don't understand what information you could gain from this," he responded. Even though he backed up off of Dean's shoulder, he was still standing unusually close.

"Well, the obvious one is their speed," Dean began. "I can keep track of times to determine who is a speed horse and who can take the distance. If a distance horse breaks to the front early, then I know we've got to chase them. If a speed horse breaks to the front and it's a longer race, then I know to sit back and relax. They'll die out before the home stretch. It's also important to know what horses belong to what trainers. Knowing how other trainers work can teach you a lot about the horse. Same goes for jockeys. Jockeys all have a style of riding and you can predict how they'll ride their race."

"This means other trainers are checking you out as well," Castiel's eyes narrowed in a squint and he cocked his head ever so slightly.

Dean smirked at the open door left by Castiel, "I like to think it's because of my perky nipples." Castiel's sudden change in expression caused for an amused eye roll from Dean. "It's a joke, Cas. You know...checking me out."

"Oh."

Shaking his head Dean turned back to the track to make more notes. Gabriel and Garth brought Lazarus and Mystery up first. "Three furlongs. Take them to the ⅜-pole and then let them loose. We'll be waiting at the finish line."

"You got it, boss," Garth gave a thumbs up as he coaxed Mystery up to a trot.

Gabriel quickly followed after him on Lazarus. "Get ready to eat my dust."

"I'm really excited to see how they do," Charlie beamed as she settled in next to Dean and Castiel on the rail.

Dean pulled out his stopwatch and kept a close eye on the horses as they made their way closer to the pole. "Is it wrong of me to hope Lazarus wins?"

Charlie grinned and shook her head, "Nope. You've fallen for her just as much as Anna had."

"She's got spunk, that's for sure," Dean had to agree. He was never known for following expectations, so why bother to start now? Trying to run a filly in the Derby was as far from the beaten path as he could drive. His thumb pressed down on the start button as the two horses took off at full speed. Mystery led around the turn by a head, but Dean watched as Gabriel flicked his whip twice and Lazarus began pounding into the dirt and began pulling away from Mystery. The stopwatch hit time as her nose extended just past the finish line half a length in front of Mystery.

"Go Laz!" Charlie cheered.

"Was her time good?" Castiel questioned his face just as bright with excitement as Charlie's.

"12.2," Dean announced with a twinge of excitement. He opened his mouth to begin explaining the details to his boss, but a slow clap pounded its way into his ears from behind. Turning around, Dean felt a sickening chill run down his spine as he caught sight of the last person on Earth he'd ever want to see.

"Bravo," the man spoke with a British drawl. "It seems that Dean Winchester has found something other than a circus pony to train. Both two-year-olds, I take it?" He strode up to them, dressed in all black and exuding an arrogant confidence.

"It's none of your fucking business," Dean scowled. "Don't you have your own horses to attend to, Crowley?"

"Tsk, tsk, Dean," Crowley shook his head with mock disappointment, "You should watch your mouth in front of company. Speaking of, you are…?" The man's cold eyes turned towards Castiel.

"Also none of your fucking business," Dean snapped as he positioned himself between the two.

Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder and with a gentle squeeze moved him out of the way. "My name is Castiel Novak. I took over Anna Milton's farm." He offered his hand in greeting, but the other man did not take it.

"Anna Milton?" Crowley laughed. "The same Anna that thought she could win big with fillies?"

"One and the same, and that horse you just applauded was a filly," Dean spoke proudly. "How is it going to feel when your horses get whooped by a girl?"

"I imagine about the same as it was when you got your ass handed to you by the police at Del Mar," he shrugged. Dean's face flushed red in anger, and as his gaze snapped over to Castiel, he saw the blue-eyed man frowning at him great confusion. "Oh, bollocks," Crowley spoke with a false surprise. "So sorry, Castiel, I thought you would have known Dean was banned from several tracks. Well, I suppose I should leave you two to discuss that then, shouldn't I? Toodles." He smirked as he turned on his heel and began walking away along the rail of the track.

Dean felt the sudden need to just run. To run far away from it all, away from this role he'd been playing – because who was he kidding? He couldn't train winners, not anymore. Crumpling up his notes, he tossed it into the stands and began walking away with purpose without a second look at Castiel. A wave of panic washed over him when Castiel's reaction kept playing on repeat through his head. If there hadn't been reason to get rid of him before, there certainly was now; he would save Castiel the excuses and make it easier on both of them by just going – Dean didn't think he could handle seeing the disappointment and revulsion in Castiel's eyes. Passing by their stalls, he grabbed for his folder of paperwork and made towards the track exit - but a hand wrapped itself firmly around his own, pulling him back.

"Dean," Castiel breathed through pants. "Please, stop."

"Let me go, Cas," Dean pleaded. "You don't want me here. I'm bad news." He shook his head to try, an image lingering behind his eyelids. "I saw how you looked when Crowley told you I'd been arrested."

"It's not," Castiel began, but then stopped as if he were at a loss for words. "I wish you would have told me from the beginning. This will keep us from running the horses in certain events." Dean turned away from Castiel. "I'm not angry, I was just surprised. It was something I should have heard from you and not some other trainer."

"Yeah, well," Dean swallowed hard, "I'm a curse, Cas. You deserve better than that."

"Maybe so," Castiel agreed from behind him, "But when it comes down to the horses you show greater care than any other trainer I've spoken with. I'd rather have you, cursed or not."

There wasn't a hint of pity or disappointment in the words – only complete sincerity.

Dean had to bite at the inside of his cheek to keep himself from crying out. Bringing a hand up to rub at his mouth he turned so that he was facing his boss; Castiel was staring at him with eyes that seemed to pierce right down to his very soul. "Why? Why would you want me, Cas?"

Castiel crossed his arms, rubbing at his biceps, and took a step forward. "Dean, we cannot escape our past. It will continue to chase us as long as we live. It doesn't define who we are; it's how we deal with it when it finally catches up that matters. You never gave up, Dean. I suppose it's not just the part of you that is a trainer that I like."

Castiel took a step forward, close enough Dean could feel the heat radiating off of the other man's body; his jaw relaxing in anticipation as he felt Castiel's fingertips run up his forearms, their lips about to touch.

"HEY!"

Dean jerked away from Castiel at the sound of Gabriel's voice. He was walking up on Lazarus with Garth and Charlie at his heels. With a muffled cough he and Castiel furthered the distance between themselves. "Hey," he said, shuffling awkwardly and turning to face the jockey, "sorry about that."

"I saw Crowley," Gabriel mentioned as he hopped off Lazarus and handed her off to Charlie. "What the hell did that great big bag of dicks say?"

"Don't worry about it," Dean shook his head, begging he did not push any further on the issue. "Laz's time was awesome, that's all there is to know."

"Hmph," Gabriel frowned. "Everyone Crowley surrounds himself with is a complete asshole."

"Is he any good?" Castiel inquired.

"Good?" Charlie scoffed from inside Lazarus's stall as she untacked the filly. "He's great. He trains for Azazel and Lilith. Those two are some of the most wealthy people in all of America. Azazel is out of California, and Lilith out of New York; he's got complete control of both coasts because of it. Crowley's favorite jockey is Alistair, and he's ruthless."

"He fouls other jockeys on a daily basis and gets away with it every single time," Gabriel growled.

"Well," Castiel pushed his glasses up his nose, "I don't care how much money the man has or who he works for. We have the better horses and we will prove it on the track."

"As nice as it is for you to be so confident, I have a lot of concerns about his favorite two-year-old," Gabriel gave a worrisome frown.

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and pushed off of the barn wall he was resting against. "Is the colt here?"

"Oh yeah," Garth nodded as he stored his helmet and vest. "You can't miss him."

All five members of the gang made their way back to the track as soon as soon as Charlie had taken the tack off of Lazarus and Mystery. Dean scanned the track for a horse that looked threatening. He knew exactly the horse he was looking for when his green eyes locked on. "Jesus," he breathed.

"That's him," Gabriel nodded. "Morningstar A-K-A Lucifer. He's got lines tracing back to War Admiral and Man o' War."

"No shit," Dean mumbled, still in complete awe at the colt that strutted at over 18 hands. He was solid black with muscles that rippled in the sunlight. There was no fear in that colt, just pure power.

"He's very big," Castiel noticed, "but he is still as unproven as our horses on the track."

"Well ain't ignorance just a big ball of bliss," Gabriel cackled. Then with a sigh that was more like groan he rested his chin on top of his hands on the railing. "Rest assured that if we do make it to the Derby with one of our horses, it'll be against him."

"Alright, you guys are making me feel suicidal right about now," Dean interjected, the mood far too solemn for his liking. "Go get Kansas and Frenchie and if Alistair is out there, just ignore him. I don't need the two of you starting shit." With complaints uttered under their breaths, the two jockeys and groom left Castiel and Dean alone. Dean could feel the tension slice through the air between him and Castiel, but he couldn't even begin to know what to say. Thankfully, Castiel did not offer up any suggestions and they stood there silently as they waited.

Kansas and Frenchie did not school to the same tune as Laz and Mystery, but Dean was far from disappointed. He had a gut feeling that Frenchie wouldn't race longer than seven furlongs, but there was money to be had in sprinting races. The track was close enough to home that they could leave the horses stabled there while they slept in their own beds; satisfied with the day's work, the team packed into the truck and headed back to the farm.

Missouri greeted them with perfectly grilled steaks and an aromatic homemade apple pie had Dean sliding right out of his seat. When Gabriel tried to sneak an extra slice, Missouri slapped him across the face with the serving spoon. "Don't think I didn't see that!"

"Oh, come on!" Gabriel whined.

"You gotta stay lean and mean, man," Garth laughed as he placed his dishes in the sink. Garth lived in the area and had other horses that he rode, but he couldn't turn down the offer from Castiel to join them for dinner.

"Mo' fo' me," Dean grinned with a full mouth, reaching for the entire remaining plate of pie and placing it in front of himself.

Missouri gave him a kind smile, "It's about time someone appreciated me around here. Oh, that reminds me. Castiel, the new silks came in today. I put them on your desk. They look mighty fine; clean and crisp."

"Les go 'ee!" Dean exclaimed as he got out of his chair with his plate in hand and another bite shoved into his mouth.

Castiel led them to his office where the box was sitting. Reaching in he pulled out the jockey silk and gasps filled the room. "They look much better in person." he hummed approvingly, lifting each item from the box with a pleased expression.

Laying it across the desk he let everyone marvel at them. The tops were almost solid black with the farm crest in white across the chest, and each arm had a thick band of white around the bicep. Reaching back in the box he pulled out matching racing hoods for the horses.

"These are way better than what we had," Gabriel beamed. "Good job, Cassie. I'm impressed."

"They are very sleek," Charlie agreed, "but I will say Anna's design was more colorful."

"Yeah, well, this isn't the gay parade, Charlie," Gabriel responded, earning a wiggle of her tongue at him.

"I hate to just run out on ya, but I think I'm going to head on home. I'll be out at the track bright and early," Garth spoke.

"Yeah, ok, no problem," Dean acknowledged. Gabriel and Charlie filed out behind him, once again leaving him and Castiel alone. "So," he began, "I never asked, but what exactly is the symbol Anna chose for the farm?"

"Ah, the Aquarian star, or also known as the Unicursal Hexagram. It was a popular symbol amongst the occult because it could be drawn in one stroke which made magic far more powerful in rituals," Castiel explained.

Dean blinked in surprise. "So your sister was a devil worshiper."

Castiel laughed, "Hardly. The symbol began as the magical Star of Solomon and, in myth, was the symbol on the gates of Atlantis. The points are meant to bring together earth and the divine. We were a religious family on upbringing, and unity was always something Anna felt very strongly about."

"Huh," was the only response Dean could muster. He wasn't really sure if he understood any of that, but it was a cool symbol none-the-less. "You know a lot about that stuff. I think it's awesome. One day you should take me to the Smithsonian and make a historian out of me. I never finished school, so I don't really know anything."

Castiel gave a kind smile, "I'm sure you know a lot more than you give yourself credit for, and nothing would make me happier than taking you to D.C."

Dean grinned as he leaned over the desk, close enough that he was almost brushing noses with Castiel. "It's a date." With a hopeful heart Dean locked in on Castiel's lips and leaned in.

The desk began to vibrate and the jingle of Castiel's phone echoed in the office. With a start, Castiel moved away from Dean and reached around in the pile of papers for the object. Glancing at the screen, the historian gave Dean an apologetic flash. "I'm sorry, I have to take this. I'll see you in the morning?"

Dean was screaming on the inside, but he mustered up a smile as he shoved his balled hands in his pockets and rolled back onto the heels of his feet. "Sure thing." Cursing under his breath at his bad luck, Dean walked out, Castiel's voice fading the further he went. Twice he had been cock-blocked!

Frustrated and with blue-balls, Dean made for his house and quickly stripped down to his boxers, and after rummaging around in one of the drawers he pulled out a copy of Busty Asian Beauties. Dean didn't really classify his sexuality; he was a man that had an appreciation for both sides of the spectrum. But all he could see when he thought about men was Castiel, and that thought was too irritating to keep an erection after the interruption. With an exhausted sigh he made himself comfortable on the bed and went forth for a little relaxation.

Try as he might, every woman seemed to morph into blue eyes, sex hair, and a man's body.