By noon the next day Dean forgot why he had a headache and why he felt like vomiting. Sam reminded him that after they got home from the bar that he had gone on a drinking binge and practically cleared out their cabinet. He was mostly likely, feeling the aftereffects of the night before. When Dean asked why he had gotten upset, Sam nearly mumbled out the topic of last night's discussion before promptly leaving for the kitchen in assumption that Dean was going to blow a gasket. He did.
Sitting at their small shared dining room table, the older Winchester brother waited while his baby brother made him a nice greasy breakfast and served it to him. Lifting his head from his arms crossed along the table, Dean thanked Sam and picked up his fork. The sausages were practically dripping and his eggs were almost too runny to be considered healthy enough to eat. He scarfed down the food in a matter of minutes - much to Sam's disgust. "Are you going to work today?" The younger asked.
"Of course," Dean said. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Well...I mean, it would make sense if you would need a day off Dean, no one would blame you."
Dean snapped at Sam. "Dammit Sam! I'm not some fragile little kid, I can handle my own shit. What happened, happened, there's no reason crying over spilt milk." He took the last swig of apple juice from his glass and stood. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll be going."
Sam didn't say anything while Dean got ready and snatched his keys off the hook, slamming the door behind him. He cleaned up the dishes, and got ready for school.
Slowly, the engine died out and Dean opened the door to his car. Bobby was already waiting for him, his old baseball cap covering his graying hair and his blue and black overalls covering what Dean could only assume were clothes he had worn a thousand times. He acknowledged Dean's presence with a curt wave, then a jab of a thumb into his shop. "That asshole Dick is in there waiting for you."
Dean nodded, rushing up to the door and opening it before slipping inside. Mr. Roman, one of the most powerful men in America, was standing there with one arm resting on the counter and the other busy sending messages at the light of speed on his phone. The bell attached to the door rang as he entered catching the man's attention. He earned a smile that would make most women buckle at their knees, but make anyone who truly knew Dick to cringe. "Ah, Dean, how're you?"
"Fine as wine Mr. Roman, how about you?"
The man wandered around the lobby, watching as Dean made his way to the back of the front desk. "I'm doing good boy, besides the fact that my car has been here for three days and yet, no call. I don't want to have cause some waves for Singer's Automatics." The rarity of Dick Roman's threats was parallel to the rarity of squirrels in an average American neighborhood, so as his most recent one slipped through his lips it didn't shock Dean much.
Sighing, Dean shook the mouse around on the desk, letting the monitor flicker on and display the preset search page. He typed in Roman's name. It was all for looks though. He knew that the man's expensive BMW was sitting behind three other cars, waiting for a simple oil change. Bobby liked making the man wait, so he put him all the way on the bottom of the list, even if what he needed would only take a couple of hours. "Ah, there you are, right at the bottom. IT'll be at least another two days before we can even get to your car."
Roman lost his smile, and glared at Dean. "Mr. Winchester, I am going to be frank when I say that I am an important man with a busy schedule and I don't have time to waste on you and your stupid boss out there, so get my car done today...and there will be no problems." His voice had steadily risen in volume and his face slowly contorted into a glare of unmeasurable hate.
Dean leaned forward, motioning for Dick to move in as well. "Well you see Mr. Roman," Dean whispered. "Here at Singer's Automatics, we don't like to show favorites, so you're just going to have to wait your turn." And with that, Dick grumbled and stormed out of the office. Laughing, Dean decided that making that bastard pissed off was enough to lift his mood for a good two hours.
The door opened. Or apparently a couple of seconds. He turned to find Cas, his hair a mess and his hands stuffed into his pockets. "Dean." He said, giving the other man a nod.
"Hey Cas, what can I do you for?" He was hoping that the price was cheap, he wasn't going to get paid for another week.
"I just came to ask you a question." Castiel stopped before the desk, resting his elbows on the marble and looking around. Dean ignored his dirty thoughts and went straight into business mode. "What are you doing tonight?"
He thought about it. "Nothing. Why?"
"Well I figured we'd go get some drinks...you like to do that...before all of my time get's consumed by Meg."
Dean bit the inside of his cheek until it bled and smiled. "Yeah, sure. I'll pick you up once I get off work."
"Great." Cas smiled one of his rare smiles and it made Dean's heart swell. "Also, one more thing; would you be so kind as to be my best man?"
A/N: HEY! If you've made it this far, then you're awesome for waiting and if you could do it again for one more week it would be even awesome-er.
I'm keeping this short, so if you like this story and want to feed the writer, write me a nice little review (or a criticizing one, either is fine) ^_^