Never a Last Stand - Part Three: Brunch
Episode Number: 09x00 of Season 9 Fan Fiction (S9FF) [Interim Episode]
Title: Never a Last Stand
Subtitle: Brunch
Author dracox-serdriel
Word Count: 1,160
Episode Spoilers: Written after 8x19 "Taxi Driver"
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete. Feedback appreciated.
Dean moved around the kitchen, frying bacon and broiling burgers. He'd been living at the Men of Letters Lair for almost a year, and he felt like a master in the kitchen.
The questions that bubbled up in his head distracted him. More than once he burned perfectly good bacon. Castiel watched him with his usual blue, childlike eyes.
"I gotta ask," Dean started casually. "I thought the Angel Mind Control thing was broken by the tablet."
"It did sever the last ties," Cas admitted. "But I rejected her orders before that."
"Okay, but how?"
"Naomi doesn't understand..." Cas tried to find the right words. "She's an angel, and like most angels - "
"She's a bitch."
"She doesn't understand emotion. She thought she could condition me into killing you - "
"Condition you? Like a simulator?"
"About a thousand times," Cas said simply.
"You killed me a thousand times?" Dean shot at him, burning another batch of bacon.
"Only technically," Cas said, trying to dismiss the idea. "Not the real you, obviously."
Dean dished out burgers and bacon on two separate plates. "Come get your brunch."
They sat at the table, an actual dining room table, to eat. Cas remarked several times on the crispiness of the bacon, "It reminds me of apples."
"Apples, obviously," said Dean, his mouth full.
Finally realizing what was amiss, Castiel asked, "Where's Sam?"
"Garth caught a case yesterday, and Sam wanted in, I think they're in Idaho or something."
The angel found the burgers palatable, and soon his stomach stopped growling.
"Okay, so if it wasn't the tablet, and if you'd done it a thousand times before, how did you break free?" Dean asked.
Cas literally squirmed in his seat. "Naomi underestimated our connection," Cas said evasively.
"Our connection?"
"Yes."
"Cas, com'on, you can tell me."
"Naomi doesn't know love like I do."
The silence that followed this statement was both profound and uncomfortable, and it lasted until after brunch, when Sam called to check in with Dean.
"Angel-boy is awake," Castiel heard Dean say into the phone.
He dropped his voice, apparently forgetting that angels hear people's silent prayers, to say, "Why would we? Sounds like you guys got it covered. We'll stay here."
Dean started pacing again, "No, he's fine, we just - we're taking the day off, okay? Seriously, we wiped all demons off the face of the earth three days ago, how are we all not on vacation?"
The conversation ended with Dean saying "Stow it, Sammy!" and hanging up.
"Does Sam require our assistance?" Castiel asked.
"No, Garth'n'Sam can handle it," Dean said. He put his phone down and started for Cas.
"You have another case?"
"No, we're taking the day off."
"What does that entail?"
Dean had been very particular about the notion of personal space. Castiel didn't quiet understand it, but he managed to create a mathematical function that interpreted environmental variables, such as ceiling height and other room dimensions, to gauge the approximate distance he should have between himself and another person.
For whatever reason, however, the notion no longer seemed to apply. The room they were standing in was incredibly spacious and empty except for the two of them, yet Dean came close enough to Castiel that he could feel his breath.
"I am going to make one thing absolutely clear," Dean said, keeping his voice low. "We're men."
"Actually, you're a man and I'm a - "
"I mean, we're guys, okay? We don't sit around and talk about our feelings or anything like that."
"On several occasions, we've - " Castiel stopped short as Dean's eyebrows raised. Generally, this expression meant something like, "Really, Cas? Really?"
"Right, we're guys," Cas said in agreement.
Dean's expression changed. Completely. His eyes clouded over, searching for something, and his bravado dropped away. Castiel tilted his head to -
Suddenly pulled Castiel towards him, one hand around the back of his neck the other around his lower back. It literally zapped the thoughts straight out the angel's head when Dean's lips pressed against his.
Cas was married once, when he had amnesia and, believing himself to be human, took on the identity Emmanuel. He remembered kissing his then-wife, sliding his lips over her top lip, or gently tugging at her bottom lip with his. He also remembered tongue and teeth being involved sometimes, but he could never recall a kiss like this one. It started soft and quiet, not to mention suddenly, then continued, first with lips, then teeth, then tongue. At some point, Castiel's right hand slid up Dean's chest while his left hand ended up in Dean's hair.
Dean had tried to think of a thousand ways to talk to Cas, but nothing he thought of made any sense. And sure as hell, no amount of it would've given him the spine-tingling sensations he was currently having.
Instead of being new, or exciting, or even tentative, it felt like this kiss had happened a hundred times before, although both Dean and Castiel would've remembered it had that been the case.
Several new sensations occurred while all this was happening, as if Castiel's insides were rearranging themselves. Nerves all over his body pricked up, while his stomach and liver felt odd.
Dean moved one of his hands slowly up Castiel's neck, cupping his chin, then moving on to his cheek. The touch made Cas's heart skip a beat, which then sent out a radiating pulse that exploded all the light bulbs nearby. The event surprised them both and jolted them apart.
"Uh, Cas, what the hell was that?"
"I'm uncertain," the angel said quietly. Then he added, "I think it was you."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"How do you figure?" Dean asked, his eyes still adjusting to the dark.
"I don't usually explode things, unless that is my intent."
"Then what caused - "
"I think the expression is, my heart fluttered," he offered helpfully.
"So that's going to happen every time?" Dean asked.
Luckily the first jolt took out all the lights; otherwise Castiel would've exploded the remainder at the idea, no, the promise, of another kiss.
"Dean, I - "
"Me, too," Dean cut him off, "remember what I said?"
"We're men?"
"That's right. We don't talk about our feelings."
"Of course."
"Let's just, keep the explosions to a minimum," Dean said.
Cas swallowed hard. He wasn't sure he could promise not to explode anything -
Again Dean cut off his brain with a kiss, pushing Castiel's back against a wall. This wouldn't've have been a problem, except the wall in question was actually an unlatched door that swung in and caused both of them to fall awkwardly.
"That was not me," Cas asserted immediately.
Dean laughed. "I know, Cas."
"Why are you laughing?" the angel asked.
He stroked Cas's face and whispered, "I'm happy, that's why."
"Dean, I - "
But again, his thoughts stopped short at Dean's touch, which continued undeterred for two blissful minutes until -
Dean's emergency ringer buzzed on his phone.
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Title: Never a Last Stand
Subtitle: Brunch
Author dracox-serdriel
Word Count: 1,160
Episode Spoilers: Written after 8x19 "Taxi Driver"
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete. Feedback appreciated.
Dean moved around the kitchen, frying bacon and broiling burgers. He'd been living at the Men of Letters Lair for almost a year, and he felt like a master in the kitchen.
The questions that bubbled up in his head distracted him. More than once he burned perfectly good bacon. Castiel watched him with his usual blue, childlike eyes.
"I gotta ask," Dean started casually. "I thought the Angel Mind Control thing was broken by the tablet."
"It did sever the last ties," Cas admitted. "But I rejected her orders before that."
"Okay, but how?"
"Naomi doesn't understand..." Cas tried to find the right words. "She's an angel, and like most angels - "
"She's a bitch."
"She doesn't understand emotion. She thought she could condition me into killing you - "
"Condition you? Like a simulator?"
"About a thousand times," Cas said simply.
"You killed me a thousand times?" Dean shot at him, burning another batch of bacon.
"Only technically," Cas said, trying to dismiss the idea. "Not the real you, obviously."
Dean dished out burgers and bacon on two separate plates. "Come get your brunch."
They sat at the table, an actual dining room table, to eat. Cas remarked several times on the crispiness of the bacon, "It reminds me of apples."
"Apples, obviously," said Dean, his mouth full.
Finally realizing what was amiss, Castiel asked, "Where's Sam?"
"Garth caught a case yesterday, and Sam wanted in, I think they're in Idaho or something."
The angel found the burgers palatable, and soon his stomach stopped growling.
"Okay, so if it wasn't the tablet, and if you'd done it a thousand times before, how did you break free?" Dean asked.
Cas literally squirmed in his seat. "Naomi underestimated our connection," Cas said evasively.
"Our connection?"
"Yes."
"Cas, com'on, you can tell me."
"Naomi doesn't know love like I do."
The silence that followed this statement was both profound and uncomfortable, and it lasted until after brunch, when Sam called to check in with Dean.
"Angel-boy is awake," Castiel heard Dean say into the phone.
He dropped his voice, apparently forgetting that angels hear people's silent prayers, to say, "Why would we? Sounds like you guys got it covered. We'll stay here."
Dean started pacing again, "No, he's fine, we just - we're taking the day off, okay? Seriously, we wiped all demons off the face of the earth three days ago, how are we all not on vacation?"
The conversation ended with Dean saying "Stow it, Sammy!" and hanging up.
"Does Sam require our assistance?" Castiel asked.
"No, Garth'n'Sam can handle it," Dean said. He put his phone down and started for Cas.
"You have another case?"
"No, we're taking the day off."
"What does that entail?"
Dean had been very particular about the notion of personal space. Castiel didn't quiet understand it, but he managed to create a mathematical function that interpreted environmental variables, such as ceiling height and other room dimensions, to gauge the approximate distance he should have between himself and another person.
For whatever reason, however, the notion no longer seemed to apply. The room they were standing in was incredibly spacious and empty except for the two of them, yet Dean came close enough to Castiel that he could feel his breath.
"I am going to make one thing absolutely clear," Dean said, keeping his voice low. "We're men."
"Actually, you're a man and I'm a - "
"I mean, we're guys, okay? We don't sit around and talk about our feelings or anything like that."
"On several occasions, we've - " Castiel stopped short as Dean's eyebrows raised. Generally, this expression meant something like, "Really, Cas? Really?"
"Right, we're guys," Cas said in agreement.
Dean's expression changed. Completely. His eyes clouded over, searching for something, and his bravado dropped away. Castiel tilted his head to -
Suddenly pulled Castiel towards him, one hand around the back of his neck the other around his lower back. It literally zapped the thoughts straight out the angel's head when Dean's lips pressed against his.
Cas was married once, when he had amnesia and, believing himself to be human, took on the identity Emmanuel. He remembered kissing his then-wife, sliding his lips over her top lip, or gently tugging at her bottom lip with his. He also remembered tongue and teeth being involved sometimes, but he could never recall a kiss like this one. It started soft and quiet, not to mention suddenly, then continued, first with lips, then teeth, then tongue. At some point, Castiel's right hand slid up Dean's chest while his left hand ended up in Dean's hair.
Dean had tried to think of a thousand ways to talk to Cas, but nothing he thought of made any sense. And sure as hell, no amount of it would've given him the spine-tingling sensations he was currently having.
Instead of being new, or exciting, or even tentative, it felt like this kiss had happened a hundred times before, although both Dean and Castiel would've remembered it had that been the case.
Several new sensations occurred while all this was happening, as if Castiel's insides were rearranging themselves. Nerves all over his body pricked up, while his stomach and liver felt odd.
Dean moved one of his hands slowly up Castiel's neck, cupping his chin, then moving on to his cheek. The touch made Cas's heart skip a beat, which then sent out a radiating pulse that exploded all the light bulbs nearby. The event surprised them both and jolted them apart.
"Uh, Cas, what the hell was that?"
"I'm uncertain," the angel said quietly. Then he added, "I think it was you."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"How do you figure?" Dean asked, his eyes still adjusting to the dark.
"I don't usually explode things, unless that is my intent."
"Then what caused - "
"I think the expression is, my heart fluttered," he offered helpfully.
"So that's going to happen every time?" Dean asked.
Luckily the first jolt took out all the lights; otherwise Castiel would've exploded the remainder at the idea, no, the promise, of another kiss.
"Dean, I - "
"Me, too," Dean cut him off, "remember what I said?"
"We're men?"
"That's right. We don't talk about our feelings."
"Of course."
"Let's just, keep the explosions to a minimum," Dean said.
Cas swallowed hard. He wasn't sure he could promise not to explode anything -
Again Dean cut off his brain with a kiss, pushing Castiel's back against a wall. This wouldn't've have been a problem, except the wall in question was actually an unlatched door that swung in and caused both of them to fall awkwardly.
"That was not me," Cas asserted immediately.
Dean laughed. "I know, Cas."
"Why are you laughing?" the angel asked.
He stroked Cas's face and whispered, "I'm happy, that's why."
"Dean, I - "
But again, his thoughts stopped short at Dean's touch, which continued undeterred for two blissful minutes until -
Dean's emergency ringer buzzed on his phone.
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