Alibi

by Good Question

Destiel Crime AU : Dean Winchester is an FBI agent working for the Gang Unit in Oklahoma City. An explosion rocks the FBI headquarters and soon after the rubble clears Dean meets Castiel Novak, from the NCAVC unit. Neither of them thought that a national emergency would bring to light the deeper secrets behind both of their families. And what are the C.O.L.T. files?

22. Ghost Stories

Chapter 22: Ghost Stories

Dean healed, slowly but surely, and he was the grumpiest little fucker until he did finally pass his health exam for active duty.

He'd had to add another skin graft which he'd been upset about. Sam had stared at him oddly when he'd complained and Dean hadn't been able to exactly admit why it upset him. It meant that the area along his shoulder would be numb. He wanted to be able to feel Cas' lips brushing down along it. It wasn't fair. Later, the night of the surgery, Castiel had pulled him into a closet and kissed his lips, neck, and nibbled on his ear as he sulked. Not everything in life was fair but they'd try hard to make up for it.

It had taken him awhile to get himself to the gun range too. Not for lack of trying, of course. One of the most irritating developments from having lived with Castiel was the relationship between Sam and Cas. While they didn't spend much time together and the conversation was generally polite; they had a way of teaming up against him. Of course it was mainly on things like his well being and when he did stupid shit, but that didn't mean he liked it any better. At the very least on some quiet evenings he could tease Cas to the edge and keep him there as punishment for it. Sam he just glared at.

Re-qualifying for active field duty hadn't been that difficult. He'd been forbidden from jumping any fences but he was good. His marksmanship test had gone well, too. The only problem he was still having was the way that the skin stretched and sometimes made it hard to move, though the doctors said he was recovering extremely well; which probably had a lot to do with the double physical therapy. While he didn't stay wrapped around Cas every night, the nights he did were very stimulating. Castiel still wouldn't let them graduate very far in their sexual adventures, too worried for Dean's injuries, but there was plenty of moaning, panting, and stretching. Cas was always gentle with his fingers and Dean counted the entire session as physical therapy. Of course, he couldn't tell Sam he'd already had his "session". It was a little aggravating and humiliating having to do his rehab exercises under Sam's supervision. At least it amused Cas, for which Dean also retaliated in their quiet moments together.

His healing steadily progressed along with the restoration work on the apartment. Insurance had paid for most of it and the FBI chipped in a little. Why, he didn't know. It wasn't a compensation he was expecting them to make. Still, it meant that it was about time to move out of Cas' apartment. Not all of the apartment was done but Dean wanted to do some of the fix-ups himself. He figured it would help him view the place as a home again. They didn't talk about it, him and Cas. Sam mentioned it every so often, but the only thing that they did was hold each other tighter the few nights they braved spending together. Some nights they didn't even get around to sex.

Sam and him also ended up having the same return date. While Sam would stay in Virginia at Quantico, the team would be back to flying out to whatever case they were needed on. It was likely that the repairs would be completed before they got back. Sam volunteered to run their stuff back and forth while they were gone. Neither man argued, worried that it would throw suspicion on them about their relationship. The rapidly fading amount of time they had together stayed at the back of Dean's mind and was the biggest reason for the knot in his stomach on the day they were to return to work. Of course, he covered it with anger and arguing.

"I can drive my own damn car."

"Dean," Cas sighed, impatient. "We are all going to the same office, at the same time, taking two cars is impractical."

"Yeah, so you hop in mine and we go."

"You back hasn't fully healed. You still have trouble extending your arm."

"If it's good enough for the feds it's good enough for me."

"Would you just let me drive?"

"I really don't think that's a good idea," Sam chimed in, leaning against the edge of the Impala. "But I was thinking of borrowing Castiel's car anyway."

"What, when?" Dean asked side-eying his brother.

Sam looked away for a moment to sigh and roll his eyes. "Dean, all of our crap is not going to fit into the Impala. We talked about it briefly. Castiel would leave the car with me and the keys, he's got his house ones attached to it too. I'd come pick you guys up whenever you come back."

Dean couldn't help but feel a little bit betrayed. Cas hadn't mentioned anything about this to him. He tried to cling to the anger even as his inner voice told him that it was kinda his own fault. Every time Castiel had tried to bring it up Dean had simply latched his lips around some exposed piece of Cas' skin. "Fine, whatever, fuck. Let's just go." He hunched his shoulders and stormed over to Cas' car. Luckily the door was open as he slid into the passenger seat. It would've been a little embarrassing to violently grab at the handle only to have it not open for him. Humility was generally an effective cold bucket of water on anger. He fumed to himself silently, arms crossed, ignoring the way Cas and Sam were probably sharing concerned looks.

It didn't take long before Castiel had slid into the driver's seat and Sam into the back. The drive was tense but Dean didn't feel like alleviating any of it. Usually there was at least some music playing. Castiel had tried but the glare he'd shot at him at the stretched out arm stopped the motion. They pulled into the basement garage of the Quantico base and Dean nearly threw himself out of the car in the hurry to get out.

"Here," he heard Castiel say behind him. There was a soft jingle of keys as they passed ownership.

Dean huddled in his jacket at the cold breeze sweeping through the garage. He flipped his collar up and shivered a little in place. "Well, you guys coming or not?" he barked out as he waited by the elevator, holding the door open with his hand. He ignored them as they filed into the tiny space.

"I believe you're going to have to sign in on the offices on the first floor," Castiel mumbled quietly. Dean knew of course that it was because of his attitude, trying not to spark anything, but the quiet whisper irritated the hell out of him.

The doors pinged pretty quickly after. The ride for the first floor wasn't very long. Sam coughed into his fist and cleared his throat. Dean almost let him walk off but couldn't help but take one look at his brother. He felt his resolve crumble at Sam's expression. It looked defeated and scared, like a puppy kicked out into the rain. "Don't get into too much trouble," Dean ground out. He tried his best to sound short and snippy but even he couldn't keep it up at Sam's smile.

"I'll see you guys later."

The doors closed and Dean tensed.

"Dean-"

"Cas." Dean cut him off before he could start. He didn't want to talk about it.

"I'd kiss you but there are camera's in the elevator."

Dean looked up at that and glanced at the little round port in the corner of the elevator. "You can't kiss every problem away, Cas."

Castiel sighed and inched a little closer. Dean watched him out of the corner of his eye as he let his arm swing a little loose so that he could briefly lace his fingers in Dean's. "The driving thing isn't what's really bothering you."

Of course it wasn't. He was petty but not that petty. He'd hated what the implication had meant. Yeah he hated leaving Baby sitting around in a parking lot but he would've preferred the move out to take longer.

"You can always come back?" Castiel's voice was a quiet whisper.

Dean sighed and leaned back against the elevator wall, watching the numbers climb higher. "Cas, shut up." Then the guilt set in. He felt Castiel withdraw his body away from him, obviously miffed. Dean groaned. Did they really have to do this emotional shit right now? Instead of apologizing, and knowing he never would, Dean briefly reached out. He kept his eyes trained on the floor numbers and grasped Castiel's hand firmly in his own. Their palms were warm against each other but Dean let his hand go almost as quickly as he'd grabbed it. No PDA allowed.

At the very least Cas was smiling a little by the time they stepped out onto their floor.

"Look what the cat dragged in!"

Dean grabbed all of his emotional bullshit and shoved them into a box, nailing it shut. He felt a smirk blossom onto his mouth and he winked at Pamela. "Miss me?"

"Could hardly get any sleep with you gone," Pamela teased back, walking over to wrap him up in a hug.

"You don't look too much worse for wear."

Dean turned to Ellen and shrugged his shoulders. "Doctors know what they're doing I guess. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"Not particularly. We were looking forward to meeting this brother of yours."

"Meeting him?" Dean frowned, confused.

"I am the only agent who ever had direct contact with him during-," Castiel paused and shuffled his feet a little. It was an awkward topic to bring up.

"Oh, right," Dean nodded. "He's got his own thing to do. I'm sure you'll see him around more than you'd want to." Dean laughed, "Kid doesn't exactly have a 'take a break' switch on him. Ends up under everyone's feet."

"Takes after his brother, then. Can't get anything done with you around," Pamela smirked, leaning against her desk.

"Hey! What happened to missing seeing my fine ass around here?"

Pamela laughed and gathered a few of her papers as she saw Bobby approaching. "You're plenty handsome, Winchester, but that doesn't mean you're not more trouble than you're worth."

"You love me," Dean bit back as they were waved over to the debriefing room. He hadn't even had the chance to sit down before a stack of files was dropped in front of him. They weren't going to be putting any training wheels on him taking so long to heal up.

"What do we have?" Castiel asked. Dean thought it was odd that he didn't have prior knowledge but when he actually thought about it he'd kept the other man busy this morning. He hid his smirk behind his hand as he tried not to let their morning shower session replay in his mind.

"We're going to L.A." Bobby thumbed the remote control until a grainy face popped up.

"Just one?" Dean asked, leaning his cheek against his palm.

"At the moment," Bobby rubbed his forefinger and his thumb at his temple. "There are sources that say they 'fear that another person will end up dead' if we don't arrive soon."

Castiel frowned, "That doesn't make sense. We have other units that specialize in threats."

"Well... no real threats have been made."

"Excuse me?" Even Ellen sounded perplexed.

"So there's no... well, there is a crime but, no serial?" Pamela asked.

"It's not like we're serial exclusive," Bobby said flipping open the file and pulling out a page. "But the people involved? Considered high profile enough for folks to be worried. Honestly I think top brass wanted good press after last week's fiasco."

Dean nodded but still felt suspicious. He'd briefly heard from Cas that there'd been a high profile case that the FBI unit on point had royally screwed to all hell. 20 civilian lives lost and the perp had died in the chase. They'd suspected he had a partner but now there was no way to question him. He knew that the FBI was involved in a certain level of politics, they had to be, he just hated doing charity cases like this. "Don't we have a branch specifically assigned for this type of shit?" Dean asked reading through the victim's information. Seemed like a pretty cut and dry incident. He scrolled down to the extra information on the location. They'd be investigating a set, fun enough, but he couldn't help but laugh. "Haunted? Really? Look I know it's October and Halloween's right around the corner but ghosts aren't real."

"Don't you give me lip," Bobby groused. "It should be a pretty easy case then."

"We do what we must," Castiel agreed. "The bureaucracy and media image of the FBI has never been an enjoyable part of our work but everything in life has it's bane."

"How poetic," Dean grumbled as they gathered their go-bags.

At least it'd be Hollywood.

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

Sam's hands shook a little and he wiped the sweat from his palms on his pants. It wasn't his first time on this floor, he'd had to do a little bouncing around, but it was the first time it really counted. Once he signed the last piece of paper he would officially be employed by the legal sector of the FBI. For the most part his re-qualification process had been painless. He'd also had Castiel to shadow him for some of the process. One of the reasons he was comfortable with taking Cas' car is that they'd been carpooling together to get to the office in the mornings. It wasn't like he needed someone to watch over him, and it wasn't like he and Castiel were particularly close, but Sam was sure that he was getting more looks than he had been with the older man around.

Maybe it was because he was paranoid or because he'd actually passed all of his qualifications but the halls seemed quieter than usual. Sam set his jaw and took in a deep breath. He wasn't going to let himself be bullied or belittled into backing down. Despite his personal guilt he'd been cleared in the eyes of the law. He had just as much of a right to be in the building as everyone else did. So what if he'd been involved in a few sketchy situations? Sketchy situations that involved a high grade criminal organization, sure, but he'd been cleared. He was good.

"Excuse me?" Sam cleared his throat as he approached the front desk. The woman gave him a slow look that he had a hard time interpreting. He'd been here before and she hadn't seemed quite so dismissive.

"Final qualifications?" she asked as she leaned back in her chair.

"Yes ma'am. I'm told I need to -"

"Down the hall, last door on the right."

"Ah-thank you," Sam muttered adding a "ma'am."

His feet felt heavy as he moved past the stares and down the hall. He let out a sigh of relief as he turned the corner to the hall. Mostly everything down the stretch were personal or assistant offices and these people preferred their privacy. There weren't going to be many gawkers with the blinds closed. Sam concentrated on moving one foot in front of the other, refusing to check to see if there were people peeking through. It nearly caused him to collide into a small, blonde woman.

"Oh god! I'm so sorry," Sam said kneeling down almost instantly to pick up her scattered papers. His fingers felt clammy as he tried to organize them without crumpling them worse. "I wasn't looking where I was-" Her hand reached over and gently took the papers from his hands. He looked up at her eyes and felt his insides go squicky. Her look was intense, searching, and far too analyzing for his likings. She smiled and tucked all of her papers back into her arms. With a brief nod of her head she moved past him and down the hall. "The hell?" Sam mumbled but didn't dwell too long on it. He didn't need another headache.

He felt himself start to perspire as he found the office he was supposed to go in. He raised his hand and knocked confidently on the door. He waited until he heard a 'come in' before opening the door.

Maybe if Sam hadn't been so nervous he would've noticed that most of the papers the woman had been carrying had been blank.

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

Castiel drummed his fingers on the edge of the seat as he stared out of the plane window. There was quiet chatter among the team, very casual conversation, as they headed towards L.A. He turned to take a sip of water and paused. Dean's head was buried in the case files.

"Dean?" Dean's head snapped up and there was a goofy sort of smile on his face. "What is it?"

Dean blushed as the conversation hushed around him and the rest of the team turned to look at him. "Nothing."

"Come on, share with the class. Don't tell me you're shy all of a sudden," Pamela said leaning closer to Dean and trying to take a peek at the page he was looking at.

"Seriously, it's nothing."

"I figured you for a better liar." Bobby huffed and settled to where he was leaning against the wall.

"What's got you grinning like a school girl?" Pam reached over and nudged at his shoulder.

"Like fuckin' pariah's," Dean grumbled but sighed, relenting. "The uh," Dean coughed shuffled around with the papers. Castiel leaned forward. It wasn't a nervous behavior he was used to seeing on Dean. "The set? That we're going to, it's uh. Hell Hazers II: The Reckoning."

"What? You a fan of the first or something? Sounds like some C list horror flick," Ellen shuffled through her own files to try and find the page Dean was on.

"No-no. God no. I could care less about that. Don't even know what the hell that is. It's uh...Tara Benchley."

"Who?"

"Tara Benchley," Dean's grin lit up a little as he set his papers down. "She's uh-man she's great. Super amazing actress. and Ghost Ship. Really talented and man her horror flicks are-" Dean whistled.

"What about her?" Castiel asked a small smile forming at the edges of his mouth. Dean had a way of becoming rather charmingly adorable when he spoke of things he was passionate about. They'd never really discussed movies, always having something else to do, but it didn't surprise him that he was a horror fan.

"She's the lead in Hell Hazers." Dean bit his lips and wrung his hands a little.

Ellen laughed and slapped her knee light with an open palm. "I believe Dean Winchester has a little crush."

"Shut up! She's a talented actress and it's just cool that- well."

"This is gonna be great. Can't wait to see the great Agent Winchester star struck and tongue tied," Pamela teased as she moved back.

Castiel lifted his hand to cover up the full smile that he'd finally developed. Dean's cheeks had pinkened a little in his fluster. Dean looked at him as he caught the movement of his arm and the man frowned. "Come on Cas. Not you too." Castiel shook his head and turned his face back towards the window.

Dean spent the rest of the flight defending himself and his passions. Castiel was just happy that it distracted him from the fact that he was in the air. They still hadn't managed to convince him to take any anxiety medication for the flight. It wasn't like they could force him or recommend him to a FBI therapist to prescribe medication. As long as he could still do his job and it endangered no one he was solid. Dean always managed to calm himself down when he walked off of the plane.

It was endearing to see Dean's excitement practically vibrating off of him. He almost felt like reminding him that they were here on official business and that there was a threat that they were to investigate. Still, Castiel couldn't bring himself to. Dean's eyes danced across the the scenery as they drove to the set, leg bouncing a little to try and work off some of the energy. He did finally remind him as they pulled up to the set and Dean nearly tripped as he shimmied out of their van. "Remember that you're wearing your FBI badge. We're here on a case."

Dean made a disgruntled noise and turned around. "I know. I can do my job, ya know."

"You sure about that?" Pamela slapped him on the back and rubbed at his shoulder briefly.

There were a few executives that came out to meet them. After a few hand shakes they were admitted to the set and Castiel had to fight to keep his expression neutral. As the rest of the team fanned out to investigate the set Dean's head was swiveling from side to side, taking it all in. He waved away the PA that had been assigned to them and walked up to him. "Everything you imagined it to be?"

Dean, to his credit, didn't jump or react and simply turned around. "Gotta admit, this is pretty cool."

"It's definelty not our usual," Castiel admitted as they started strolling around the set. It was actually very impressive. The amount of work that had to have gone in to building the set and how many people were involved.

Dean sighed and shrugged his hands into his pockets. "Maybe after we get done with this case we can take a stroll around?"

"Maybe, but for now-"

"We have a case, yeah I know. This isn't my first rodeo." Dean looked around for a moment before starting to walk. Castiel trailed after him.

For the most part none of the people they spoke to even knew who the man who'd been hanging from the rafters was. Vague mentions here and there and no specific details. They'd re-grouped momentarily and wondered if there was even a case to be on.

"We should probably go take a visit to the coroner's office," Bobby said over a cup of coffee a PA had provided.

"That's the thing though," Ellen took a sip of her own, "I can't get in touch with a single damn person who has the body we're looking for."

"What? No body?" Dean rubbed his temples. "I mean don't get me wrong, happy to be here, but how the hell did we get called in with no body."

"I'll give base a call, let you know what I find," Bobby groused out as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Castiel let out a small huff and shook his head. Dean nudged him and he looked up. " Yes?"

"Come on, I know this seems like a goose chase but at least we get to hang out with the stars right?"

"You have an amazing sense of perspective."

"You know I do." Dean opened his mouth to continue but his phone went off in his pocket. Castiel stared raised his eyebrow. "Probably Sam." Dean drew his phone out and his shoulders went rigid before relaxing.

"Something wrong?"

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, "No , just ah. Ben. Ben texted me."

Castiel nodded slowly. He wasn't sure how to proceed. He knew Dean cared about him as more than a co-worker, a friend. Or at least he hoped so with some of the moments they'd shared. He wasn't naïve enough to think that intercourse meant that they had something. No one had asked anything and it wasn't like they'd even gone out to dinner. He'd met Lisa, though never Ben, and knew how important they were to him. He knew from the files he'd read on Dean before ever becoming attached that Dean had some rights over the child. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah yeah," Dean gave a dry laugh. He looked around for a moment, "I miss the kid."

"I can imagine," Castiel said, keeping his tone mild. While he hadn't let himself think about it too long, Dean had left a family behind. Of course, he'd argued to himself, he hadn't forced Dean to transfer, only given the suggestion of an opening, but he'd never mentioned how the separation had affected his previous family structure.

"He scored the winning goal in the last game," Dean said as he typed out a response.

"You must be very proud."

"He's a good kid."

"I'm sure he is."

They waited in silence for a moment and Dean tucked his phone back in his pocket. Suddenly he froze.

"Dean?"

"Oh my god."

"Excuse me?"

Dean grabbed his arm and Cas stumbled for a moment. He regained his balance and tried to find what had made him so excited.

"Look," Dean whispered pointing.

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

He let himself be dragged by the arm as Dean marched his way back to the set.

Castiel quickly regained his balance and weaved with Dean through the throng of set people. He nearly ran into the other agents back as he froze. "There," Dean whispered, sounding a little out of breath. His eyes followed the small lift of Dean's hand until it settled on a woman in a chair.

"She is?"

"Tara Benchley."

Cas kept his amusement in check as Dean rubbed his hands together before marching over. He stayed a little further behind as he mumbled his way through an introduction. Castiel watched as Dean rubbed the back of his neck. He gave her a charming smile, which she returned. They spoke in easy tones, though Castiel couldn't hear what they were saying, laughing. He felt his stomach sour. What had been adorable at first, star struck worship, now made Cas feel a little queasy. He watched as they came closer together, shaking hands, Dean clasping hers with both of his palms. He knew Dean was a big fan. They slid closer together, her in her seat and Dean towering over. She pulled out a large binder and flipped through it slowly, pointing at pictures and smiling up at him. He patted her gently on the shoulder and pointed at some of the pictures himself.

Castiel knew his attitude probably flitted through a little bit on his face. He schooled his expression into lockdown as Dean sauntered over, cheeks and eyes glowing.

A voice by his side surprised him.

"If you're done flirting, Winchester."

Dean flashed a smile and a wink at Pamela. "Shut up."

She grinned in response, "She everything you hoped she would be?"

His eyes grew dreamy for a moment, "She's great." Castiel tensed a little, clenching his fists and forcing himself to relax. Dean sighed a bit but help up a Polaroid, "Not flirting, working."

"That our vic?" Pamela asked reaching out to grab it. She held it in her hand and stared at it. It wasn't much like the descriptions, or the really poor quality photo they'd received.

"She has a hobby of taking pictures with all the crew."

"Right, and?"

"Well," Dean shrugged, "we didn't even get much about our vic profile on the files. I mean hell the biggest reason we're here is that damn threat. She says he was just a guy that came in for a day or two. Anyway but... this guy," Dean took the picture back. "I think I know him from somewhere."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, come on," Dean flapped the image in the air.

Cas paused as he tried to push his jealousy away. It was unbecoming. Still, he wasn't sure if he could be as civil as he needed to be. "I believe I will remain here for now. Take Bobby with you. I'd like to talk to the head executives. Call me when you find something."

He only spared the pair a brief look before disappearing among the staff.

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

Pamela ended up staying behind too as Ellen flagged her down with a confused frown.

"What's wrong now?" Dean asked as they waved them off.

"Do I look like I know?" Bobby grouched as they climbed into the van. "Now what's this brilliant idea of yours?"

"I detect some sarcasm in that," Dean grumbled but dug into his pocket to produce a map.

"What is that?"

Dean coughed and his eyes bounced around the van. He was sure there would've been legal ways to attain the information but he hadn't been able to help himself. "It's a map to the stars houses?"

"Excuse me?" Bobby took a moment to shoot him a skeptical glare as they entered traffic.

"Yeah," Dean flipped through it, "got it off some guy on set for a few bucks. But listen- that doesn't matter. Turn left in two lights."

"There some method to this madness?" Bobby asked as Dean directed him through the maze of busy L.A. Streets.

"You'll see when we get there."

Dean almost felt smug as when they knocked on the door a very alive and healthy, former janitor to the set opened the door.

"Gerard St. James?"

"Yes?"

"You're alive and well I see," Bobby spoke.

"Of course?"

"You were Desert Soldier Number Four in Metalstorm: The Destruction of Jared-Syn?

"I was."

"I knew I recognized you. I am a huge fan. I mean, your turn as a tractor crash victim in Critters 3?

"Critters 3!"

"Wow. Yeah."

"Well, please, come in."

They spoke for a few minutes, ironing out the facts. The guy hadn't the even asked to see badges or anything, just thought they were fans. Dean didn't correct him. He figured it'd be a more open discussion if 'FBI' wasn't flashed around.

"A fake death?"

Dean shrugged as they climbed back into the van. There wasn't much they could do about that.

"Do these god damn suits not understand how much money and time goes into calling us out here? For 'motivation' for the actors?" Bobby shook his head as he sent off a text message to the rest of the team. "The legal consequences alone for false alarms."

"Trust me, I agree, but there's not much we can do. Not like we can arrest the guy for playing a character? I mean other than hauling our asses out here for no reason there's nothing shady going on."

Bobby grunted and conceded the point as they made their way back to set. With no case they would pack up and head out straight from the studio. They hadn't even had time to get settled in or book hotel rooms so the 'clean up' was minimal. Dean counted his blessings. Had the case come up any other time he probably would've been as pissed as anybody else. But no. A false alarm meant that they could go home. It was still early enough to where they could push to fly out that evening. Which meant that he could go home with Cas. Sam probably hadn't even had the chance to move any of the stuff yet with how busy of a first day it was bound to be for the kid.

He slid out of the car even before Bobby was done parking and marched his way through the set. He hoped that his face wasn't too filled with glee. If anything he could pass it off as just being excited that no one was dead. Dean spotted Castiel at the edge of the set where they were starting to film a scene. Everyone's eyes were focused on Tara and he had to admit she was stunning. He watched the beginning of the performance for a moment before sneaking forward. Dean's fingertips were inches away from gently caressing Cas' elbow when something loud crashed through the ceiling of the set.

Debris sprinkled to the ground as they watched a body swing side to side gently.

It wasn't long before people started screaming.

The autopsy report said that he'd been killed the night before and kept cool. The body hadn't been frozen and certainly hadn't been kept long anywhere to get burns from the cold but it had been preserved to a certain extent. Meticulous behavior like that didn't happen by accident. It seemed that the threat had been very real. They'd been given access to the set for a few hours before being brushed off. It seemed that the executives at the studios had enough swaying power to kick them off the set and continue production after evidence had been collected. If the FBI had been able to have it their way they would've shut everything down.

The guy that had 'hung himself' (everyone on the set was starting to tell stories) was Brad Renning. A man sent by the studio to supervise the production. No one seemed to particularly miss him. The movie went on as planned much to their chagrin. Of course, Dean didn't exactly have much of a chance to vent about how wrong it felt. The first night they'd spent actually setting up base camp. Castiel had gone to bed before Dean had had the chance to corner him. In the morning there hadn't been an answer when he knocked on Cas' door and it wasn't until they were back on set during interrogation that he even saw him again.

They kept it strictly business, which he could understand, but he couldn't help but feel cheated. First he thought that they'd be able to ditch town and get home early, and now they were too busy to even get a god damn cup of coffee. One silver lining was that he got to watch Tara perform. He'd managed to wedge himself towards the back, having called Sam to make sure that he knew they weren't coming home. He almost tucked his phone away as what appeared to be a PA glared at him. The man simply walked past, muttering something curses about the production under his breath.

"So? How's it going?"

"It is going really good, man. Tara's really stepped up her performance. I think it's probably from all the sense memory stuff she's drawing on."

"Sense memory?"

"Yeah."

"Dean, you're on a case if you haven't forgotten. Threats? A man packed up and kept in storage before the big drop?"

"Whatever, man. This is a once in a lifetime experience. Anyway," Dean cleared his throat a little as they called cut to a scene. "How are you holdin' up?"

"Me? I'm fine."

"Right," Dean watched as someone flagged him over. "Listen, I gotta go. No crazy parties."

"Dean." Sam sounded exasperated.

"Do as your told." Dean snapped his phone shut and walked over to Ellen, raising his eyebrows in questions.

"So?"

"We're about done for today. Re-group at the station and then get a little shut eye."

"Really? Nothing?" Dean asked even as he let himself be relieved. Early day in meant that maybe this time he could finally get around to catching Cas.

"Forensics did as a big of a sweep as they could but there's nothing here."

"It's a ghost!"

Dean and Ellen rolled their eyes as the eavesdropping PA's walked past. "They're really running with that?"

"It's good for the press," Ellen sighed as they walked out of studio. "Or the movie I guess."

"Friggin' vultures," Dean grumbled as they spotted the rest of their team packing up for the day. He held in his grin when he saw Castiel loading their van.

"Even your lovely, leading, lady?" Ellen teased with a smirk.

"Oh shut up." Dean blushed a little. He hadn't been kidding when he'd said he was a huge fan.

Ellen laughed a little and shook her head. Her laughter doubled when he gave a little wave to the woman in question as she left her trailer. She approached and they talked briefly. By the time they were done, Castiel and Bobby had already left in the first van, leaving the rest of them to follow. He told himself he wasn't miffed.

By morning the entire set had been shut down. Another man was dead. Torn apart was more of the accurate description, shredded to pieces. "Oh god," Dean muttered to himself as they walked along the set. There were pieces of flesh dangling from the propeller blades of the fan. Jay Wiley was now nothing more than decorative red on the set.

"How could this happen?" Castiel snapped beside him at one of the security guards.

"I- we had the place locked down," the man stuttered, eyes wide. Dean tried to keep himself from snickering a little. He knew from experience how terrifying Cas could be. He didn't envy the other man at all.

"Not well enough."

"So?" Dean asked getting closer to him.

Castiel sighed and fidgeted between crossing his arms and letting them rest at his sides. "Two murders, on our watch? This is going to be a PR nightmare."

"At least you're not the one that has to run it?" Dean offered as they walked away from the set. They'd seen everything they needed to see and let forensics do their job.

"If only," Cas muttered as he waved off another officer attempting to approach him. They stopped at the small table Ellen and Bobby were gathered around. "Theories?"

"The escalation in violence is insane. Whoever this guy is, he's seriously pissed," Ellen spoke.

"We're assuming it's a man because?"

"Well, the amount of strength it would take to haul up Brad's body and then to shove Jay through the propeller fans doesn't match a smaller woman. We took a look around at all the crew and workers and honestly I don't see any of these women being that heavy hitters. It's not even about personal body strength but they just don't have the body mass to pull it off."

"Fair enough," Castiel conceded as he pulled out a chair. Dean sat down next to him.

"Now, all of the dead guys have been higher ups. The executive and now the director, so we're figuring it's either a power play or a grunt that's really pissed."

"From what I can tell everyone's pretty happy on set," Dean mumbled as he reached over for a platter of food that had been set out. Bobby gave him a reprimanding look as he stuffed the sandwich into his mouth. "What?" The older man shook his head and Dean swallowed. "Been walking around and talking to people and honestly they seem like one happy family."

"That doesn't necessarily mean that everyone's actually happy. God knows I smile and grit my teeth when extended family comes to call," Ellen sighed into her coffee.

"That's true I guess," Dean mumbled around the meat, a small bit sticking out of his mouth. From childhood the extended family had never had much to do with them. Even after John's death, when their mother would've needed them the most, no one had come. He wasn't familiar with the experience. "Oh-," he lifted his head a little, remembering something. "I think actually-hold on," he flagged down an officer, "Get me a list of every PA working here with their picture."

"There something you wanna share with the class?" Bobby sipped at his drink.

"I don't know the guy's name, only heard him muttering once. But the guy's the only person I've seen on set who doesn't have the whole 'happy family' vibe."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, some short kid in glasses."

"The list will take some time to compile," Castiel mumbled but he looked pleased with the step forward. "I want to set up interviews with the staff. Figure out interpersonal problems, especially those pertaining to the higher ups. Anyone with decision making power can currently be considered a potential victim. Let's not let the death toll get up to three."

Knowing they were dismissed, they split up, Dean trailing after Cas. He told himself he'd paired up with him just because Cas lacked a certain social grace. He was a hell of an interrogator but casual conversation wasn't his forte. Things were going rather well too until they ran into Tara again. Dean offered his condolences and asked what she was doing here. The site had been shut down. Apparently someone had called her to consult on her role. She looked upset and like she wanted nothing to do with the situation. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder and told her to go home.

"If any of the higher ups bitch, tell 'em an agent told you to leave. There's not much else you can do but follow the orders of an official, right?" Dean grinned at her, pleased when she finally started smiling a little.

"Yes, thank you, Agent Winchester."

"Dean is fine."

"Thank you, Dean."

He watched her leave the set, the sun starting to set a little in the background. "Poor girl," he said as he turned around to find Cas glowering at him. He raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"No."

Dean sighed and tugged on Castiel's elbow, pulling him to the side and out of the way. He didn't stop yanking until they were hidden in the stairwell of the set. "What the hell?"

"Excuse me?" Cas ripped his elbow out of his grip and dusted off the fabric of his jacket where it had crumpled.

"Your attitude."

"My attitude?"

"Repeating things back to me in questions isn't helping, Cas. And it sure as hell isn't cute. Last time you were like this you-" Dean paused for a moment as the gears in his brain started working. He felt slots fall into place. A small grin started to tentatively form at the edge of his lips as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger over the bridge of his nose. He looked up to find Castiel blushing a little. If he hadn't spent so many nights trying to get any reaction out of the man, he probably wouldn't have even noticed. "Are you- are you jealous, Cas?"

"Nonsense," Cas huffed and squared his shoulders. He straightened out his posture and glared up at him. It was a little cute when he tried to make up for the height difference between them. "This case is simply irritating."

"Irritating," Dean repeated back in as mocking of a tone that he could muster. "Right. Nothing to do with Tara Benchley?"

"No."

Dean tried to keep from laughing. It would only infuriate Cas more. He relaxed his stance and took a few steps forward. He trailed his hands over both of Cas' arms, rubbing with his thumbs along the muscle a little to try and get him to ease up on the tension. He didn't stop moving closer until he'd lined their bodies up, breathing the same air. "Cas," he said his name like a command. Castiel's eyes only flickered to him briefly before going back to staring at the blank white walls. Dean sighed and moved his hands to Cas' hips, holding him close and drawing him in. "It's actually kinda cute," Dean muttered against his lips.

Those were the magic words to get Cas moving. Dean found himself slammed against the stairwell wall. His lips buzzed as Cas claimed them, nipping at the lower lip with his teeth, tongue sliding along the plump skin. Dean groaned a little as Cas left his mouth to latch onto his neck, licking a strip from the crevice of his jaw and ear down to what he could reach of Dean's collarbone. He nibbled at the bone, suckling and kissing every time he bit too hard and Dean hissed. Dean laughed as Cas ground against him. "Gotta say, Cas. Possessive looks good on you."

"Shut up, Dean," Cas growled into his chest before coming back up to reclaim his lips.

They probably would've continued in this fashion if they hadn't started to hear an argument. Castiel pulled back first and Dean tried to follow. He knew his own state had to be pretty disheveled but Cas' flushed cheeks and slick lips were impossible to look away from. Dean tried again but Cas held up his hand. He put one finger over his lips, gave Dean a meaningful look, and then pointed to the door that led to the set.

"What?" Dean whispered and Cas shushed him. Dean inched forward towards the door and his eyes went a little wide. There had to be some super hearing involved on Cas' part because until he'd pressed his ear against the door he hadn't been able to make out any type of conversation at all. Just noise.

"You know, the history, the lore in my draft was completely accurate. We could've gotten it right for the first time ever in this whorehouse of a town. But you tore it to shreds. You replaced it with cleavage and fart jokes."

"Who gives a rat's ass about "real"? We're talking about ghosts here, Walter. There's no such thing."

"Walter?" Castiel mouthed at him and Dean shrugged.

As gently as they could, they eased the door open. The set was only illuminated by a few overhead lights. The voices were a little clearer now, or at least they were until the sound of an industrial size fan covered them. Dean and Cas slid their guns out of their holsters and aimed them towards the ground, fingers off of the triggers and along the barrel. They crept around through the scenery, splitting up and going two ways.

Walter, the guy that Dean had been thinking of, was pointing a gun towards another one of the suits. Martin or Marvin or something like that. He was slowly inching forward, backing him towards the fan.

"Oh, God, no! Please, no! "

"You ruined it, Martin! Everything I worked for!"

"Oh, God! Walter!"

"Now you're gonna find out what being a ghost is really like."

"Walter, please!"

"Walter! FBI. Put the gun down." Castiel stepped out from behind the haunted house building, gun trained on the man trembling in anger.

"You don't understand," Walter's voice cracked a little.

"Sure we do, but come on," Dean stepped out and angled himself behind the man.

"Just... wait, look. You put your heart and soul into something, years of hard work. It's years, and then they take it! And they crap all over it! And then they want you to smile and say, "Thank you".

"Nobody else has to die, Walter," Dean warned, inching closer. It would've been an easy shot to take him out but the guy's hand was still on the trigger. One muscle spasm and the executive would be dead.

"Look, I have nothing against you guys. Just go. But he has to say," Walter focused his gaze back on the man crouching on the floor now. The fan blades spun behind him, pulling air in.

"You know we can't let you do that."

"Then I'm sorry," Walter turned, gun raised towards Dean.

Before he could register what had happened, Walter was on the ground, clutching at a bullet hole in his stomach. Dean looked up, shocked. Castiel lowered his gun, eyes gleaming like steel as he stepped forward. "Call a medic."

"Right, yeah," Dean mumbled as he crouched down to confiscate Walter's gun.

That had been a little too close for comfort.

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

Castiel lounged in his patio seat, watching the lights flickers in the distance of the city. They'd made it back in time for Dean and Sam to spend one more night at his home. They'd shared a simple meal, Sam constantly running to the door for the few trick-or-treater's that passed by. Dean had been unusually quiet too, stuffing his mouth with what candy Sam had bought as preparation for this.

He'd nearly forgotten about Halloween.

"Everything okay?"

Castiel jumped a little at the voice and turned his head, "Dean." The man shrugged and pulled one of the chairs closer. He reached out a warm palm and stroked his fingers across the top of Cas' hand. "But what about-" he turned his head behind him and glanced to try and catch sight of Dean's brother. He knew this type of physical touch was out of bounds. They hadn't had much time together since their incident.

"Passed out asleep," Dean grinned and raised Cas' hand to his lips, giving it a soft kiss. "Apparently the guys at the office are running him ragged. Really pushing him. Says he might be able to start assisting in court soon, so that's something."

"Good," Castiel mumbled, relaxing into his chair a little. He let Dean rub soothingly at his hand. "He's a very capable man. I would not be surprised if they started letting him build the cases as well."

"That's my Sammy." Dean's face glowed with pride. The moment lasted for only a bit before Dean coughed. "So uh- Tara Benchley gave me her e-mail." Castiel tensed. "According to her, I'm a very handsome and reliable man." Cas tried to pull his hand away but Dean kept his grip firm on it.

"Oh?" His voice was sharper than he'd wanted it to be.

"Yeah. Would've given me a personal tour."

Castiel turned to Dean, upset. What was the point of this.

Dean's expression softened. He looked out towards the cityscape and then back at Castiel. There was a small rosy tint to his cheeks that had nothing to do with the beer they'd consumed that night. Dean had insisted on a scary movie marathon, especially of the classics, and that apparently involved intoxication.

"I told her I was happily taken."

Cas felt something inside him flutter, it beat against his chest and his stomach looking for a release.

"Oh?"

"You're really articulate tonight, Cas." His smile was lopsided and shy.

"Stop talking, Dean," Castiel mumbled. He reached over and carded his fingers through the short spikes of hair at the nape of Dean's neck. He slid his palm down a little to cup the back of his neck better before pulling the other man in. They kissed slowly, keeping their lips in a chaste soft press against each other.

"Happily taken?" Castiel asked, nervous. The nature of their relationship was not something they had ever approached.

"I'm not picking out curtains or anything but," Dean shrugged and let Cas' hand drop. "I don't cheat, Cas. Whatever this-" he waved his hand between them, "-is. You don't have to worry." Castiel stared at Dean in apprehensive wonder.

He hadn't wanted to ask.

He could've stayed staring the rest of the night if Dean hadn't laid back in the chair, hand over his stomach and groaned.

"Everything all right?"

"I think those KitKats are about to make a daring escape attempt."

Castiel chuckled and Dean raised his middle finger. "I told you not to over-eat Dean."

"Bite me."

A/N: Hasn't been beta'd by K yet, and that's my fault. I'm not gonna get into all of my personal bull shit but I'm sorry it's been so long. Again, updates can always be found at my goodquestionharlie tumblr. Happy Halloween guys. Beta'd By K November 7th.