Part 5.3

Claire Milton parked her orange WV Beetle in the Bernal Heights area of San Francisco, behind an old but well-maintained pickup truck, that looked seriously out of place in the affluent neighbourhood. The letters on the rear windshield proclaimed "S.A.D.", which is exactly what she was feeling right now.

She smoothed down her skirt – Sam had told her to dress casually, but one of girls at her earlier jobs had told her that these lawyer types usually had the secretary kink. She hoped he would be gentle, he looked the aggressive kind, and it wasn't like anyone would believe her even if she complained. Sam Winchester was really well-liked around the office, apart from being the VP's practically adopted son, and on a fast track to becoming the youngest head of their legal department. He, also, had a very good looking wife, Jessica, who she really liked. She felt really bad doing this to her, especially because Jessica reminded her of Anna, but she really needed the job. She just couldn't afford to get fired.

She bit back her tears and wished that Anna was here to protect her. She wiped the tears away, powdered her nose and dabbed a fresh coat of lipstick. She took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face, hoping he wouldn't notice how scared she was, and walked towards the white suburban two-story apartment house with a mailbox proclaiming "Winchesters". She rang the bell twice and waited for the harrowing evening to begin.

She first realized something amiss when Sam Winchester opened the door looking like a male model in the Sears casual section and asked, "You found the place okay?"

She nodded as he stepped back to let her in and extended his hands for her coat, instead of just pulling it off of her. She quietly handed it to him and she noticed a couple of other coats hanging alongside hers. Sudden tears of relief sprang to her eyes, just Sam turned to face her. "Are you alright?" he asked concerned.

"You are not alone?" she asked her voice almost a whisper.

Confusion clouded his face as he asked, "Why would I be alone?" When Claire continued to stare guiltily at her feet, he smiled reassuringly with "Don't worry. I have no intention of hurting you. You can leave if you want, but I'd rather you stayed. It's just a small family dinner."

Claire looked at her boss like he was an alien. What was wrong with him? Why was he being so nice to her? She nodded and followed him inside.

Sam told her to wait in the very homely looking living room as he went inside, came back and wordlessly handed her a coke, then herded her out to the patio. He walked over to a grey-haired man wearing an expensive suit, staring at his drink, and a woman, probably his wife, who kept throwing glances at the far corner of the garden. Claire followed the look and saw a young man about her age, looking as out of place as she felt, talking animatedly to a little girl bouncing in his arms.

"Oh, hey Claire," Sam called her over. "Claire, this is my father-in-law, Alan Moore," he said addressing the man – the man smiled politely at her – "and that's Kathleen, my mother-in-law", Claire couldn't figure out whether the woman was smiling, or had gas, or one Botox injection too many, she smiled politely and muttered her greetings. "And this is Claire, we work together," he said introducing her.

The doorbell rang and Sam excused himself, leaving her alone with the Botox lady and her hen-pecked husband. "So… Claire," the Botox lady spoke, tearing her eyes away from the man and the kid. "What exactly do you do?"

"I'm Mr. Winchester's secretary," she replied. And the woman suddenly turned a death glare on her. Claire fumbled a step back just as Sam reappeared with Zachariah Smith and a fragile looking, impeccably dressed socialite.

"Claire," Sam called her over once again. "I think you know Zachariah Smith…"

"Call me Zach," the man corrected in a slight English accent, taking a step forward and raising her hand to his lips in a very courteous gesture.

"And this charming lady is Pandora, his wife," Sam smiled flirtingly at the woman, raising her hand to his lips, and she smiled fondly at him as if bestowing him with her grace. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go help the Missus with dinner." Pandora laughed, a soft delicate laugh befitting her, and "Zach" winked at him. Claire was surprised at how comfortable Sam seemed in their company.

Sam left, and the Smiths floated towards the Moores, leaving her alone. Seemingly with nothing better to do, she found herself moving in direction of the young man and the kid. She was nearing the couple when the man set the girl down and she shot past her towards the group. Claire stopped and turned around to follow the girl's movements.

The girl came to a halt behind the Smiths, and gently tugged at Mr. Smith's trouser. When he looked down at her, she curtsied gracefully, then did the same thing to Mrs. Smith, then took a step back and curtsied the group as a whole, before turning around and taking a couple of steps very elegantly away from them, then shooting off towards the young man who had come to stand beside her, seemingly aiming for his legs.

But before she could reach him, the man took a few steps forward and swiped her off her feet and they both started laughing. Claire couldn't help but join in. She looked at the group who were busy pretending to ignore them, except the Botox lady who was glaring now.

"What's her problem?" she muttered under her breath.

"Oh, it's just her face," the guy replied moving back towards his corner, away from the death glare. Claire went with him. "Adam Winchester, by the way," the man said turning towards her and extending his hand. "Sam's nephew."

"Claire Milton," she replied shaking it. "Sam's secretary."

"And this cookiemonster," Adam continued, tickling the girl in his arms "is Dee." The girl giggled and flailed wildly, but her teddy remained as it was.

"Deanna Mary Winchester," the kid corrected with a tired exasperation, after her giggles subdued. "I was named after my grandmom and Uncle Dean. This is Uncle Dean," Dee added thrusting her teddy towards Claire. "They wouldn't let me get Uncle Cas, because he's new and no one knows about him yet," she turned to her uncle. "That's not fair. That's. Not. Fair," she stated very slowly, arms coming across her chest and a distinct scowl on her face.

Adam laughed. "Sorry, she gets like that sometimes. Dad says it's the Winchester genes. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go put her to bed."

He carried the girl inside the house, just as Sam appeared and told everyone to come in for dinner.

-x-x-x-

Dean was nervous. Very very nervous. He had planned everything – reservations, the very Julia Roberts proposal – he'd wanted everything to be perfect and then Adam had called and everything had just gone down the drain.

He had tried calling Cas afterwards, but all he got "we'll talk when I get home." He should have known better than to give Adam Cas' contact information. The boy could get quite jealous. He cradled his head in his hands and waited for the upcoming shit-storm.

At 7.00, he got a call from Cas. "Get ready, I'm coming to pick you up. And I won't be waiting more than I have to."

Dean clicked off the call and hurried to get dressed.

-x-x-x-

The dinner was probably the most awkward one of Claire's life, and she considered herself a veteran of awkward dinners. The Smiths and Mr. Moore completely ignored her and Adam, while Mrs. Moore glared at them like she was trying to burn holes through their skulls. Only Jessica and Sam acknowledged their presence and tried to make them as comfortable they could, under the circumstances.

After dinner Jessica announced her pregnancy and, later, Adam shooed her and Sam away to entertain the guests, clearing away the dishes by himself. Claire lingered behind with him, not sure how exactly she fit in their social circle, and he pointed out that he didn't fit in either, but family's family, "You just learn to suck it up." And they talked.

He said he didn't really mind cleaning and stuff because he had been raised by a single mom. Also, he wasn't really Sam's nephew but Sam's brother, Dean, had sort of adopted him after his mom died. And Uncle Cas, or Castiel, was Dean's boyfriend-slash-soon-to-be-husband and today was their anniversary.

And later when she was leaving, he walked her to her car – apparently the SAD truck belonged to him, it was a graduation present from his dad and Sam, and SAD stood for Sam, Adam and Dean – and asked her out.

Claire went home to her loft with a smile. Maybe Anna really was watching over her.

-x-x-x-

Dean was waiting outside when Cas pulled up in the Impala. He had taken Dean's van for work, so Dean assumed it was still parked at the Roadhouse. Cas got down, gave him a slight smile and a quick kiss before telling him to get in.

Dean got in as quickly as he could, leaving Cas to take the wheelchair back inside. This gave him time to stash his gift under his seat. Cas wordlessly got in, started the car and turned towards the highway. Only then did he turn to his boyfriend and issued a "talk".

Dean slumped in his seat and rubbed a hand over his face. "Did you talk to him? Did he say anything?"

"He said a lot of things," Cas replied not taking his eyes of the road. "But he did say you could tell me about him."

Dean sighed and slumped further into his seat, the weight off his shoulders. "Well… he's not my kid."

"Yeah, I figured as much, considering he's what 23…24?"

"25, actually," Dean replied. "He turned 25 two weeks before we met. Smart kid. He's a trauma surgeon at Stanford Medical. Top of his class."

"Yeah, he told me all that. Still doesn't explain who exactly he is? Your half-brother?"

Dean laughed sadly. "Half-brother, yes. Mine, no. His name isn't Adam Winchester, like he claims. It's Milligan. Adam Milligan-Moore. He's Jessica's half-brother."

That got Cas' attention. "Jessica's…?"

"Yeah," Dean muttered. "Well… her dad was quite the womanizer back in the day. Got his sites on one of his secretaries. Had an affair, got her pregnant… all that jazz. But apparently Ms. Kate Milligan was no spring chicken. She started blackmailing him. He's a public figure… there would be a scandal if this got out… but he isn't stupid. He knew she wouldn't be going anywhere, so instead of paying her off, he invested the money in a trust fund that Adam would get when he matured, on the condition that the father remained anonymous. So the pissed off Ms. Milligan made arrangements that in the event of her death, before Adam turned 18, he was to be sent off to the Moores along with paternity tests to prove that he's Alan Moore's illegitimate son and the details of the trust fund he had set to cover it up. Very soap opera. All that was missing was crappy background music and shady lighting."

No wonder the guy was thinking of end games and pay offs, Cas thought. "So then what?"

"Then Ms. Milligan and Adam get into a car crash. Mum dies on the spot, kid survives and the next thing you know that kid's lying in the damn hospital, he's got no mother, no other family to speak off, his dad doesn't want him… d'you know he wasn't even ready to sign the consent form for the surgery… That's not responsibility, man… that's humanity. Dumb luck I was visiting Sam that weekend and he'd just started dating Jessica. I took the responsibility, applied for guardianship. That's the most impulsive thing I've ever done. Mr. Moore pulled a few strings… He's a big cheese up there, went to school with a senator… By the time the kid was discharged, I was legally a parent."

Dean turned to look at Cas, who was staring at him with an open mouth. Dean reached forward and closed it. "Look at the road, babe." Cas looked ahead and motioned for him to continue.

"Well… Then I guess Mr. Moore grew a friggin' conscience. Shipped him off to a prep school in NY, paid for the tuitions and boards… continued with the trust fund… etc etc. But then Adam started telling anyone who would listen that his dad's name was Dean Winchester. The first time he introduced me as his dad, I was pissed. I mean… when you're 24 and some 15 year old says you're his dad, it doesn't really go down well… especially with the ladies you've been shamelessly hitting on. So, I told the kid what I thought about him calling me that. He broke down, saying I was ashamed of him and didn't want him anymore." He looked at Cas who was still looking at the road. "A 15 year old boy crying in the middle of an all-boys prep school on Visitation Day. That… is not a pretty sight. Especially if you are a 24 year old closet case. So I told him he could call me anything he wanted. Hell, I would've let him call me Princess Cinderella if that'd got him to shut up." Cas laughed. "Of course, then I had to explain that I was his legal guardian, a distant cousin of his mum's, and the poor kid was just confusing the guardianship with adoption."

Cas smiled, "You really are something else, you know?"

Dean cocked a grin, "Yeah, well, that's why you love me" and got punched in the arm for his troubles. "So what did you two talk about?"

"That's between me and him," Cas replied turning off the road and parking in front of the pond. "But he did say I have his approval." Dean grinned and pulled him in a kiss.

-x-x-x-

Cas got down, walked over to his side just as Dean pulled the shabbily wrapped gift from under seat and hid it in his pocket. Cas helped him sit on hood, then went around to the trunk and pulled a delicately wrapped present – Dean was suddenly conscious of his old newspaper wrapping – and Ellen's pie box and packed dinner.

"I'd made reservations," Dean commented. "Rizzo's where we had our first date."

"I like this place better." Cas replied. "This is where we had our actual first date and we kissed for the first time."

"More like you attacked me with your tongue, then proclaimed 'you're about to be pursued by the most arrogant and unrelenting and pain-in-the-ass man you've ever known."

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Cas asked climbing on the hood beside him and pulling Dean's arm over his shoulders, effectively tucking into his side.

"Yeah, it did," Dean smiled happily, the way he always did when Cas was near him. "So what've we got?" he asked lowering his hand to Cas' waist and pulling them closer.

"Well… considering you've been eating rabbit food for the past week, we have double bacon cheeseburgers with extra bacon and cheese. Heart attack in every bite," he said leaning into Dean "just the way you like it." Dean sighed contentedly and nuzzled his neck. Cas smelled of sweat and grease and that sandalwood soap he loved so much... so very Cas. "And… loads of onion rings…" Cas leaned in even further, so he was almost on Dean's lap, baring his neck for easier access "… and… and… pie…" he almost groaned.

"Umm… I love pie," Dean muttered, taking small bite just below his left ear – Cas shivered and Dean loves it very much – and trailing kisses down to his jaw.

"Dean…" Cas whispered huskily, circling his arms around Dean. Dean hummed and continued trailing down to his neck. "Dean… stop…" he whispered, his voice even huskier, but he made no move pull back. "Dean… stop… I…" he groaned, then gently pushed at his chest "I… have something for you."

Dean moaned a protest but allowed him to pull away. Cas reached back and handed him the present. Dean took his time opening it, almost reluctant to tear away the beautiful packaging. He gasped when he finally got it open. "Waffle iron?" he asked dumbstruck. "You got me a waffle iron?"

"Well… you do like waffles. A lot. And I thought I'd make them for you…" his words trailed away, and Dean couldn't help but felt he was leaving a lot to be said. Didn't matter though, he could hear everything Cas wanted to say, even before he thought about it. He nodded. "You can make waffles for anytime you want. At least it'll take the taste of your regular cooking away" and got a very girly slap on his chest. "Shut up, my cooking's awesome. My boyfriend says so."

"Well… he wouldn't know awesome if it bit him in the ass," Dean replied and got a light punch, followed, "No one insults my Major." Dean grinned widely and kissed him. "You really love me, don't you?" The reply sounded something between "I love you" and "Oh fuck you" and he couldn't care less.

When they finally pulled away, he made no move to reach for his gift. As much as he wanted Cas, he was also looking forward to a respite from the cattle fodder he had been eating for the past week, and if he proposed right now, they would never get around to eating. Okay, so he was being selfish… but there was pie. And pie comes before everything else. No arguments. "Can I have my burger now?" he asked instead.

He could almost see the disappointment in Cas' face, "What? I thought dinner reservations would be enough. Were you expecting something else?" he asked, his voice teasing. That was for ruining his plans and waking him to Rebecca Black in the morning. Yes, he'd been so bored that he had actually googled the lyrics trying to figure out who to the send hate-mail to, before he realized that would mean acknowledging he'd actually listened to the song.

"Uh… no," Cas replied softly, reaching for the dinner bag. Okay, now Dean was feeling a little like an ass, but he knew he was going to more than make up for it later. Cas handed one burger to Dean, took the other for himself, reclaiming his earlier position in Dean's lap.

When Dean finished his burger and reached for the pie, Cas slapped his hand away. Dean now knew it was an indication that he was to be patient, and waited for Cas to finish up. Cas reached into the brown bag once again and retrieved a single candle, a lighter and a dinner knife. Then he took the pie-box into his lap and opened it.

Inside was the saddest looking pie Dean had ever seen, with "Happy Anniversary, Major" scribbled on it in Cas' neat little handwriting. He looked at Cas questioningly. "I've been learning to bake," Cas replied, almost shy. "It's a simple apple pie, nothing special. I thought I'd surprise you."

He looked so adorable that Dean couldn't help but his pull him forward and kiss him on the temple. "I'm so proud of you," he stated emphatically. Because nothing says, "Be mine forever" like losing your baking virginity for the man you love.

Dean waited until Cas had stuck the candle in the pie. They blew it out together – he hadn't made a candle wish since he was 8 – and he took hold of Cas' hand to make the first cut. Their own little version of the ceremony. Cas cut out a piece and fed it to Dean, smearing a little on his nose. The filling was lumpy and sticky and sweet – a crime – and the pastry was undercooked – a blasphemy – but for Dean it still was the tastiest pie he had ever eaten. He said so, proudly shouting it into the night and probably scaring away the little animals.

When Cas took his first bite, he was a bit more critical (and realistic) of his horrible baking skills, but Dean defended his boyfriend with such vigour that Cas laughed and apologized to Dean's boyfriend and acknowledged his awesomeness, and Dean shone with pride. They had to use their hands to eat, because Cas had forgotten the forks, leaving their fingers sticky.

"This is what you get for not planning ahead," Dean scolded, pulling out the wet-wipes that he'd started carrying since that accident with Dee when they had visited him. They had come in handy quite a few times afterwards, so he always made it a point to keep a few around. Cas laughed and called him "pathetic" and he retorted with "ass". Cas snuggled into his side and they made out some more.

They were somewhere on their 6th kiss when Dean suddenly pulled back, and reached into his jacket for the newspaper wrapped box. "I forgot," he said thrusting the box towards Cas. "I got something for you too."

Cas looked at him once, then tore away newspaper with a gusto, only to find a plain brown cardboard box. He opened the box in anticipation, only to find himself face to face with a slightly smaller cover box for a new cell phone. Cas flicked a look of annoyance towards him, that pointedly screamed "I don't want a fucking mobile phone", but Dean just grinned and told him to keep moving. Then came a black box, with no markings and Cas was finally on the edge. Just like Dean wanted. He opened the box with trembling fingers, half expecting another smaller box inside and found a pendent.

A beautiful angel wing pendent. A light blue stone, with dark blackish markings, that horribly resembled his eyes, rested in a silver bed. Wide silver wings magnificently arose on either side of the stone. The wings were beautiful, intrinsically carved to resemble an angel wings. Not the fluffy, mushy white wings that came with a gown and a halo. No… these were a warrior's wings. Arched, poised, ready for battle… ready to fight for what they believed in… ready to lay down their life for the one they loved, without a second thought. It was so beautiful, yet so unlike him… but the words on the note placed below it, "My Angel, I hope this makes up for all the time you spent searching for me", more than made the decision for him.

He picked up the pendent to wear it around his neck, gently cradling it in his fingers, feeling its weight in his palm almost turning to tell Dean how beautiful it was, when he saw them and gaped. Two plain, silver rings, lying side by side in their soft cotton bed, slyly looked up at him. The note was attached to the bed, as if it was a part of it, not added as an afterthought to the pendent. He looked at Dean who was looking back at him, like he meant the world to him. "Dean…?" he said, barely able to keep his voice together.

Dean smiled and picked up the smaller of the rings. "James Castiel Novak, my angel, will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?" he asked quietly.

Cas stared at him… and stared… and stared, unable to speak… unable to even form a coherent thought… eyes brimming with tears that he had no idea had appeared. He just stared at Dean and the rings… and Dean… and rings.

Then Dean spoke up, "You want me to get down on one knee? Coz, I can do that. But it'll hurt like a fuck," and suddenly Cas was jolted back to earth.

"Why do you always have to ruin the moment with your crappy jokes?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Well… my therapist says that's how I deal with stressful situations." Dean bit his lower lip. "Say something, man. I'm dyin' over here," he did his best Pacino impression.

Cas laughed and extended his hand till the ring was firmly established in its rightful place. He picked up the other ring and took hold of Dean's hand, pulling it towards him. "Yes… yes, I will, Dean Martin Winchester."

And suddenly Dean pulled his hand back. "Jo tell you that?" he asked horrified. "Coz I'm gonna kill the little brat, when we get home."

"You'll do no such thing, Martin," Cas asserted, pulling his hand back and slipping the ring on his finger. "Especially, not tonight when I'm looking forward to the session with my fiancé."

Dean smiled and pulled him closer. "Well, I guess everyone deserves a second chance, right?" and Cas rewarded him with another kiss. "Oh… and before I forget, I talked to Jo earlier and she's yours."

Cas stupidly looked at him. "Jo?" but Dean only smiled. "No, asshat, the Impala."

Cas stared at him again, then grinned and pulled his fiancé in a slow long kiss. Dean sighed against his mouth, then leaned forward and pulled him back into his side and rested his head in the crook of his neck and closed his eyes.

The evening may not gone the way he had planned, but it still was perfect.