A/N: Ahhh, Bobby. What will he make of all this? ;D Just so you know, if you review this story, Castiel will appear in your room. Naked. Is that weird? Maybe. I'd review.

Perhaps understandably, it had been a stretch for Bobby to come to terms with the new Dean. Having the eldest Winchester brother in his lap and placing a loving kiss on his cheek had appeared to be too much for the old hunter, who had remained mostly silent and open-mouthed, staring at Dean's grinning face while Sam wheeled them both inside.

Once they were in the kitchen, and safely out of sight of anyone nearby, Sam felt (slightly) more in control. He hauled a giggling Dean up out of Bobby's lap by his arm and plonked him down at the table, crossed to the overhead cupboard, got out three tumblers and slammed them down in front of the men.

"Okay. Whiskey." Sam said, mostly to himself, choosing to ignore the way Dean was staring at Bobby, his face held in his hands, a dopey smile stretched across his lips.

Sam turned and went to the sink, opening one of the cupboards underneath where he knew Bobby stored the spirits. Well, some of the spirits. He pulled out a bottle of Bourbon and straightened up, kicking the door closed and unscrewing the cap in one fluid motion before striding back to the table and pouring each of them a drink.

He sat down. "Okay. Here's the deal."

He proceeded to explain what had happened with the Cupid to Bobby, who sat and stared at Sam, dumbfounded, occasionally taking gulps of his drink. Surprisingly, he didn't freak out when Dean sneaked his hand across the table and grabbed hold of Bobby's, squeezing tightly and smiling. Sam tried hard not to react when Dean threaded his other hand into his hair (what was it about the hair all of a sudden?) and began tousling playfully, but he couldn't help stuttering a little.

"So… what the hell do we do?" Sam finished eloquently, leaning back in his chair and taking a gulp of whiskey, batting Dean's hands away from his thigh.

Bobby honestly looked like this was his idea of hell. Sam couldn't help but sympathise – Bobby was an old-fashioned guy, he knew about hunting and killing ghosts and monsters and demons, not curing weird love spells and dealing with dopey, lovesick almost-sons.

"I know!" Dean cried suddenly, making them both jump. Sam felt panic start to prickle at his skin. "We should all go for a family picnic! I'll drive my baby girl and I'll… I'll bake a cake! Yeah! I'll make you both sandwiches too! I'll even do a nice healthy one for you Sammy, cause I love you so much."

Before either of the non-cursed hunters could react, Dean had leapt up from his chair, managing to spill his drink over the table in the process, and bounded over to Sam. With Dean coming up from behind him, Sam was unprepared (again) and helpless as Dean's strong arms curled around his neck and he leaned forwards to plant a kiss on Sam's cheek.

"Eeeeugh!" Sam cried, unable to help his little brotherly instincts from surfacing – this was Dean for Christ's sake! They only ever embraced in near death situations, and sometimes not even then. "Dean! Get off!"

Sam struggled in his grip and Dean laughed delightedly, planting several more kisses on Sam's cheek before releasing him. From the end of the table, Bobby watched in disbelief, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Idgits."

So Dean was baking. Sam couldn't help stealing glances at Dean's back as he bustled around the kitchen, the apron knotted tightly around his middle. He shook himself out of it and reminded himself that Dean was under a weird spell. Things would be back to normal soon.

"Things will go back to normal. Won't they?" Sam couldn't help sounding desperate as he voiced his concerns to Bobby. They still sat at the kitchen table, a variety of old lore books open in front of them, and a significantly less-full Bourbon bottle nearby. So far they had found nothing – there was barely anything about fallen angels in the books, let alone fallen Cupids.

Bobby puffed some air out of his cheeks and leaned back in his chair, glancing over at Dean, who was whistling away as he merrily whisked a bowl of batter.

"I sure as hell hope so. Can't have one of my best hunters suddenly discover his secret desire to become a baker." Bobby grimaced as Dean turned round and gave him a cheeky wink before directing his attention back to the cake. "I tell you what I wanna know though," said Bobby a bit more quietly, leaning forwards towards Sam so that Dean wouldn't hear, "just who the hell is he in love with?!"

Sam looked startled – they were not the words he was expecting to come out of Bobby's mouth. He hadn't forgotten the Cupid's weird revelation about Dean, but honestly, it wasn't exactly at the forefront of his mind – he was a little preoccupied with trying to reverse this goddamn spell or whatever.

Sam wrinkled his nose as if he didn't particularly want to think about it. "I dunno." He breathed after a moment. He stared at Dean, who was lovingly placing the cake tin into Bobby's oven now, waving at it through the glass. Seeing his brother like this was weird – he'd never really seen Dean be romantic before, except for the rare loving gaze at Cassie or Lisa, but now it seemed his brother had a whole side to him more than capable of the gooey stuff. "I can't even remember him being with anyone recently… at least noone that I know about. We've been full-time hunting for a while now with Cas…"

Bobby shook his head and suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Other than Castiel, has there been anyone that's… you know… that's stayed around?" Sam sighed and ran through some images of the past few months in his mind. All memories were just of him, Dean and Cas. How could he have fallen in love in that time? And even if they worked out who it was, would that help cure Dean?

"Hey, um guys?" Dean asked, sounding small and almost confused for the first time since this had begun. "Is…is someone missing?"

Sam looked at Bobby, who raised his eyebrows.

"Who, Dean?" Sam questioned, leaning towards his brother with concern. Standing there forlorn and lost in his little apron, it was quite easy to feel sorry for him.

"I…I'm not sure…" Dean sounded truly troubled, and Sam noticed his lower lip begin to tremble. Uh-oh.

"Uh, Dean? Why don't you come and join me and Bobby at the table?"

He brightened almost at once, tearing off his apron and scooting his chair over towards Bobby, who looked wary.

"Gosh, Bobby. You have the most beautiful, blue eyes." Dean said, positioning his face far too close to Bobby's for comfort. Bobby was having none of it. He pushed Dean back with a hard shove, and the younger man fell back easily against his chair.

"Get off me ya idgit."

"Blue eyes…" Dean's brow was furrowed. "Really blue eyes. Sammy!" Dean's head snapped up, and Sam had to fight off a smile at the suddenly crazed expression in Dean's eyes.

"Yes Dean?" Sam said, his voice laced with amusement.

"Who has blue eyes?"

"Um… Bobby." Sam replied, glancing at the man himself, who was massaging his temples methodically.

Dean leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes tightly, as if trying to remember something. Sighing, Sam turned back to Bobby.

"I don't know Bobby, I feel like we need some help with this." Sam murmured, inclining his head towards Dean.

"Well, yeah I agree, but who the hell knows anything about fallen Cupids for God's sakes?" Bobby answered, flicking through a few pages of the books in front of him as if hoping they might suddenly give him the perfect solution.

"Well, we could always call Cas. He helped us with the last Cup-"

"CAS!" Dean was up out of his seat before Sam could register what was happening, and he only stared, unable to speak as Dean flitted about the room excitedly, flapping his hands and grinning madly.

"Um…"

"YES, Sammy. We should definitely call Castiel, what a perfect, WONDERFUL idea!" Dean almost yelled, striding towards Sam and shaking him by his broad shoulders.

"Okay, Dean! Calm down!" Sam said, looking mildly scared considering Dean's sudden proximity. "I'll call him." Sam shot Bobby a glance, only to find him looking at Dean with a raised eyebrow.

Dean clapped his hands excitedly. "Awesome. Awesome! I'll go get everything ready." Sam just nodded – anything to make Dean take a few much needed steps backwards. "Wait…" Dean hesitated, stopping on his way to the living area to turn back to Sam and Bobby once more. "Do I look okay?" He asked them, sounding genuinely concerned.

"You look gorgeous. Now get outta here ya idgit." Dean beamed and looked bashfully at Bobby before turning and actually skipping out of the room. "Hmm." Bobby said, presumably to himself.

"Right. Cas. Okay. Not that he ever listens unless it's Dean praying but I'll give it a shot." Sam said, and clasped his hands together in front of him on the table. "Err, hello. I'm Sam. Not very good at the whole praying thing so-OW!"

Bobby placed the large book he had just hit Sam with back on the table. "He don't need your life story ya idgit. Just get on with it."

"That hurt." Sam rubbed his head and frowned, but eventually clasped his hands and closed his eyes once more. "I pray to the angel Castiel. We need your help, Cas. Like, real bad. Could you spare a minute? We just need to run some stuff past you." He cracked open an eyelid and looked around. Nothing. Bobby shrugged and motioned for him to continue. "Err, Cas? You know I wouldn't ask unless it was really important. I know your busy doing… um, angel stuff." He opened his eyes again. Not even a flutter.

Sam growled and screwed his eyes shut again. "Okay, look I know you don't usually grace us with your presence unless your golden boy calls you himself, but Dean's a little preoccupied right now, having been cursed by a damn Cupid so-"

"Hello Sam."