"All of these people are very attractive." Cas commented. "And tall."
It was true. Dean was starting to feel like an ugly little pygmy and he was not used to that.
"Anyone in particular catch your eye?" He asked Cas, too casually.
"No." Cas admitted. Dean was unreservedly relieved by the simple answer. Cas' eyes softened at Dean's slump of relief. "Dean, I don't even know these people. I know you. I'm deeply attached to you. These people are candles. You are a supernova. You ass."
Dean grinned at that. "I'm an ass, huh?"
"Yes. And a supernova at the same time; that's your appeal." Cas smiled deep into Dean's eyes. He felt Dean's fingers slide under the sleeve of his sweater to stroke his wrist repeatedly, with a smooth, slow rhythm.
"Deeply attached, huh?"
"Would you like me to put it another way?"
"No. 'Deeply attached' is good …What are you smiling at?"
"Nothing," Cas lied. It was a good kind of lie.

"Winchester!" Dean jerked away from Cas with a start. Gabriel jumped into his field of vision. Dean huffed in irritation.

"I brought you a surprise." Gabriel pointed behind Dean. Dean and Cas turned in unison, to see a beaming Bobby. Bobby stepped close and gave Dean a back-slapping hug. "How you been, boy?" He patted Dean's stomach as he stepped back. "Your angel's been looking after you. I reckon you've put on a few pounds." Dean scowled "I have not! Anyway we eat practically the same. If I've put on pounds, so has he." Bobby chuckled. "I'm yankin' your chain, Dean." Dean snorted in annoyance and turned to Gabriel. "Was that your idea, chuckles?" Gabriel smirked. "Maybe I'm rubbing off on him?" Castiel tried to distract them from arguing. "Is Balthazar here too?" Gabriel shook his head. "He has work to do. His boss is a real hard-case. So is mine actually. It's our busiest time of year - Everyone wants a miracle. Almost makes me like the heathens. Call me when you're ready to leave, old man." He arched a brow, snapped is his fingers and was gone. Dean shook his head in disbelief. "What a douche."

"Agreed. Where's your brother? We haven't had a chance to catch up yet." Bobby's eyes scanned the room at head height. "Never mind. I see him." Bobby slapped Dean's back and headed towards a knot of people in the kitchen area.

Dean and Cas found themselves on the couch alone, a calm island in a sea of people. Dean fell back against the couch. "This is not how I pictured the ideal Christmas." Cas leaned back beside him. "How did you picture it?" Cas' brows knit together in concern.

"I don't know… more like in the movies, you know? Everyone enjoying the rare moment of peace, appreciating each other's company, everything being all meaningful… and moving. I thought it'd be like old times. Me and Sam would teach you how to decorate the tree, Winchester-style. We'd get drunk and watch Christmas movies. Make memories."
"We decorated the tree."
"It was…- Well, true, we've always had an ugly tree."
"You got drunk."
Dean smiled reminiscently. "Yeah. But you didn't join us."
"I am happy to join you, but don't make me drink eggnog." Dean's smile shrank. "You don't like eggnog?"
"No. But I liked visiting Sam, making decorations and choosing gifts. I liked helping strangers and I like mistletoe." Cas put his hand on Dean's knee and rubbed back and forth with his thumb. "I like having all of us under one roof without an emergency of some kind." Dean smiled shyly and leaned in towards Castiel, who leaned to meet him halfway.

"Dean!" Sam rushed forward, coming to a skidding halt in front of them. Dean scrunched his eyes shut and sighed heavily. "What?"
"We have a 'situation."

Dean's eyes snapped open. Sam also had Cas' full attention.
"A 'situation' ?"
Sam gestured towards the front door, where Bobby squatted, soothing an upset little girl.

-oOo-

Dean wasn't sure what had happened, but the kid's brown eyes were anime-huge, and shiny with tears threatening to spill. Bobby was trying to comfort her, patting her brown-haired head. "It's okay, sweetheart. You came to the right place."
She looked relieved to see Sam and stepped towards him. "You said if anything bad ever happened, we could come to you." Her large eyes were pleading.
Sam nodded, "Yeah, I did. Where's your mom, Sophie?"
"The scary man in the picture has her."
"The scary man? In the picture?" Sam prompted. She nodded vigorously. "The clown man."

Only Dean knew Sam well enough to notice the abrupt stillness at the mention of clowns. Sam turned to give Dean a beseeching look. Dean turned and raised a questioning eyebrow on Cas, who nodded.
"We'll take care of it, Sammy." Some sense of brotherly protectiveness had cause Dean to use the old nickname. Sam nodded his agreement and didn't comment on it.
Sam patted the girl's shoulder. "Its okay Soph. That's my brother and he's …" Sam looked at Dean, knowing how dangerous it was to make false promises. "He's gonna get your mom back."
Cas clamped a hand on Dean's shoulder. "We should get our supplies."
Dean locked eyes with Sam. "Keep everyone here and distracted. We don't need a crowd of sight-seers getting in the way." Sam nodded. Bobby came back with a drink for Sophie. "Here you go, kid. Have a seat and let the professionals do their job. You came to the right place."
"You said that already," Sophie pointed out.
"Well, you're a clever one, ain't you?" Bobby grimaced good-naturedly.
Dean squatted down to Sophie's level. "Where was the clown? And your mom?"
Sophie bit her lip. "In our apartment. In my room… I told her I didn't want the creepy crying clown picture in my room!" Sam's face contorted in distaste and sympathy. He squeezed her shoulder.
"Don't worry, Soph. We'll get rid of the picture - I'll make sure of that."

-oOo-

Back in the guest room, Cas tucked his semiautomatic into the front of his jeans. They were on a job so Dean didn't take time to tease Cas about its small size, its slim girlish lines and lightweight polymer body. Cas never cared what Dean said about it. He had found he was more accurate with a lightweight pistol, and that might one day save Dean's life, so he ignored Dean's opinion. Cas put the EMF meter in one pocket and a small torch in another, while Dean hefted the shotgun and filled his pockets with rock salt rounds. "What do you think? Rakshasa? Spirit?"

Cas shook his head. "I don't know. Best be prepared for anything." He pocketed matches, a waterpistol of holy water, and a folding silver knife. "Dean…" Cas held out a small gift box with a blue bow tied around it. Dean frowned. "Is now the right time? Its a small job …You know we'll be fine, right?"

Cas pressed his lips together, frustrated. "Just take it, Dean. It could be useful."

Dean hesitated, but took the box, first putting the shotgun into the duffle bag. "Can I open it?"

"Yes. It will be hard to use if you don't." Cas' mouth turned up at the edges. Dean pulled the blue ribbon off and tossed it aside onto the bed, doing the same with the lid. Inside was a folded knife. Dean carefully took it out of its blue velvet lined box and opened the blade. The light ran over the water-like moiré patterns of damascene steel.

"It is hundreds of layers of tissue-thin, hand-forged iron and steel. It's very strong and very flexible." Cas explained.
"I know what it is, Cas." Dean interrupted shortly. "It's… how did you get this? Hardly anyone makes these any more." He stroked the matt black ceramic handle.
"Sam helped me find it on the internet. He kept it for me."
Dean carefully stroked the sides of the blade. It felt like satin. He closed it with a 'snick'. He looked at it in his hand for a moment before pocketing it. "Come 'ere." Cas stepped closer, a little uncertain if Dean liked the gift or not. Dean tugged him into a strong embrace. "It's a work of art. I love it." he murmured into Cas' hair, still tightly squeezing the air out of him. Cas hugged him back. "I'm glad. It contains iron, so will be good against incorporeal beings, like ghosts. And its sharpness should be enough against anything corporeal."
Dean stepped back and patted Cas on the chest. "That's my Cas. Always thinking."