Title: He Knows When You've Been Nice Part 2
Title: He Knows When You've Been Nice Part 2
Author: JCRGIRL
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Wincest, AU, BabyFic (Non-MPreg)
Word Count: ~ 3400
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Just playing in Kripke's sandbox.
Summary: Sam, Dean and Joey eat lunch out three days before Christmas, Dean catches the eye of the waitress
Author Notes: Joey Verse, set six months after the end of that fic. Title from Santa Claus is Coming to Town by John Frederick Coots. This is a two part story with the 1st part told from 3rd party POV and the second part told by the boys. Un-betaed.
A/N 2: Some of you may be aware that I am fascinated with 3rd party POV, but this is my first fic written with a 3rd party and then the boys. I hope it came out okay.
Dean opened the glass doors to the front of the restaurant only to be accosted by the blaring of some modern pop version of a classic Christmas song. Dean really hated places like this, brash and loud and obscenely over-priced, but it was close to the mall and Dean had a few more gifts to pick up. Sam and Joey were in town picking up a few last minute things of their own and Dean had just finished a shift at the fire station so they decided to meet up for lunch.
“Welcome to - “ The girl choked slightly on her tongue and stared at him wide eyed. He raised his eyebrows as she gathered herself. “Table for one?”
“Three and we’ll need a high chair.” He smiled warmly, feeling sorry for the obviously flustered girl. The restaurant was nearly full and she was probably a little overwhelmed.
“Sure.” She bent behind the Hostess podium and stood back up with two adult menus and a child’s complete with crayons. Beaming so bright Dean swore he could see her wisdom teeth, she flourished her arm toward the main dining area. “Right this way.”
Led to a booth, Dean slipped onto the bench seat facing the door and nodded to the girl when she set down the menus. “Kim will be your server. She’ll be right with you.” Stumbling backward into a passing busboy, the girl blushed and took off in the direction of the kitchen. The busboy shrugged his shoulders at Dean and moved to a table that needed to be cleared. Chuckling softly, Dean moved the paper kid’s menu and the crayons away from the end of the table where Joey would sit and opened his menu.
He was still in the middle of debating whether he wanted a steak or just a hamburger when a sour looking blonde girl came up to the table. He noticed her check her watch and groan before a plastic smile clicked into place.
“Can I get you something to drink while you look over the menu?” She moved to look up at him, but was distracted by a crash from the kitchen.
“Yeah. Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll have an iced tea.” Dean smiled hoping to pull the girl from her gloomy mood.
Her shoulders tightened and her head snapped to him, mouth open to probably tell him off for the sexist name, but she stood there staring at him. Seeing as this was the second time in ten minutes someone had gaped at him like a fish, Dean rolled his eyes downward to check his appearance. He’d showered after his shift and changed into jeans and a gray sweater so he should be presentable. His sweater was unstained, his fly was up and he could smell the traces of his deodorant.
Okay maybe the Hostess wasn’t the only one under too much stress this Christmas season.
Looking at her nametag, he asked, “You okay, Kim?”
She snapped out of her stupor, a large smile breaking across her previously dour face. “Yeah. Of course Angel. Iced tea.” She wrote his drink choice on her pad. “See anything you want to eat?” Her smile turned predatory and she leaned over, boxing him in the booth.
“Not yet. I’m meeting someone so I’ll wait and we’ll order at the same time.”
Something odd flashed across her face, before she schooled her features and promised to return with his drink. Dean sat there for a moment and wondered what exactly had just happened when the Hostess, who’d been arching her back apparently trying to stretch her tense muscles, rushed by his table toward the kitchen.
Still waffling between a steak and a burger, the waitress reappeared with his tea, accidentally brushing his arm with her breasts when she set it down. He gave her a slight apologetic smile for being in the way, but she’d already hurried back to the kitchen.
Dean closed his menu, finally deciding on steak. It had been over a month since he or Sam had been able to cook on the grill outside and a good, juicy steak sounded really good. Looking up, he saw Sam and Joey standing just inside the entrance and waved them over. Approaching, Joey caught sight of him and began to wiggle wildly in Sam’s arms, impatient to get to Dean.
“Hey, Dean.”
“Heya, Sammy.”
Sam leaned over and angled Joey away from him and into Dean’s awaiting arms. Dean cuddled the little boy close, breathing in the smell of baby laundry detergent and baby shampoo.
Pulling himself out of his olfactory induced haze, he smiled fondly at the child’s father. Sam looked good today. The dark circles from days of sleep deprivation in preparation of finals were fading away and the dark blue of his university hoodie made his winter paled skin seem tanner.
“I asked the Hostess for a highchair, but she must have gotten distracted.”
“Not a problem, Dean. I’ll just go find one. I’m sure there are a stack of them somewhere.” Sam slid the diaper bag on the empty benchseat across from Dean and took off on a highchair hunt.
Dean started to peel away the layers of bundling that Sam coated Joey in this morning. The temperatures had been hovering in the teens for the last two weeks and Sam was petrified that Joey would catch cold.
“Did you and Daddy have fun today? Where’d you go little man, I swear I won’t tell the big guy you spilled? Did you go out and buy DeeDee a present?” Dean talked to Joey soothingly as more and more layers were heaped on the pile next to him. Adding a down jacket to the top and finally revealing the fire engine track suit Joey was wearing underneath, Dean tickled his tummy. “God, Joey, Sammy turned you into an Eskimo baby.”
Joey laughed - and if that wasn’t the best sound in the world, it should be in the top five and Dean wanted a stern re-vote on the other contenders - and patted Dean on his face in apparent glee. Dean sat Joey’s diapered bottom on the table top, little soft sole shoed feet resting on his thighs and large hands bracing his sides. He saw Sam returning with the highchair and a mischievious smile curls his lips. “Joey, you want Deedee to order you some mashed potatoes? Huh? Do mashed potatoes sound good? I bet you’d rather have those than that nasty jarred stuff Sammy brought.” Sam swore that he’d never get the kid to eat normal baby food as long as Dean fed him adult food. Dean had staunchly maintained that if Sam really liked jarred baby food so much he should eat it.
Sam rolled his eyes, setting the highchair at the end of the booth. “I’ll never be able to get him to eat baby food.” He pulled out a black and white checkered highchair liner from the diaper bag and fit it to the frame of the wooden seat. Dean lifted Joey up and Sam caught his pumping legs and guided them through the holes.
Flopping down in the seat with an exhausted sigh, Sam opened his menu to see what this fine establishment has to offer. If they’d gone to a dinner anywhere in the contiguous United States - hell, who knows, maybe all 50 - Sam could’ve ordered without ever seeing a menu, but this chain restaurant thing that Dean’s had going since Joey came in their lives still threw him off. Not that these cookie cutter places don’t offer the same fare from one place to the next, he just hasn’t had a chance to memorize the menu like 17 years of practice afforded him with the diners.
Pulling the diaper bag into his lap, he extracted a jar of pureed green beans, a bottle of juice and a bib without tearing his eyes from the vinyl coated menu in front of him. A slam from the cash register pulled his focus away and he shot a confused face to Dean.
“Our waitress is Little Mary Sunshine. “ Dean picked up the bib and fastened it under Joey’s chin around where his neck should be and popped open the jar of food, waiting for Sam to produce the small rubber coated spoon they use to feed Joey from the depths of the plaid menace. Joey’s eyes went wide at the sound of the vacuum seal popping on the jar and he started humming and bouncing in his seat with anticipation.
“You ready to order or should I give you a few more minutes?” The waitress was so close to Dean that her hip actually bumped his shoulder. Dean started to say something, but Joey was staring at her with the utmost concentration. Dean looked over at Sam to see if he noticed and stifled the laugh when he saw that Sam was poring over the menu with that same look, hand still moving blindly in the bag searching for a spoon.
Remembering the waitress was already harried, he decided to goad his oblivious brother into action. Pissed off help is how people get their food spat in. “Sammy? Pretty lady’s kinda’ busy. You know what you want?” He kicked Sam’s shin lightly under the table, satisfied when his brother jerked at the contact. Sam’s questing hand stilled and he looked up at Dean, blinking owlishly. “Waitress? Order?” Dean raised his eyebrows and waited.
“Oh, sorry.” Sam’s face was red with embarrassment, but he recovered quickly. “I’ll have the Southwest Chicken and an iced tea.” He closed his menu and turned his entire attention to finding the spoon in the bottom of the bag before Joey patience wore out.
Dean flashed the waitress his best ‘I’m sorry’ smile and ordered his steak and Joey’s mashed potatoes, winking at the waitress at Sam’s obligatory amused sigh. She smiled back, happy to be in on the joke.
Sam finally found the Holy Grail or Holy Spoon rather and handed it over to Dean, excusing himself to the restroom.
Dean shoveled spoonfuls of ground up vegetables into Joey’s mouth, but not fast enough to satisfy the little boy. Slapping little palms on the table in frustration, Joey rocked back and forth in his seat excitedly waiting the next bite.
“You doing an impersonation of Lars Ulrich for me,” Dean teased, amused at Joey’s enthusiasm for food. He liked to think he got something from Dean.
The waitress brought Sam’s glass of tea and stepped between Dean and Joey to refill Dean’s half empty glass. Dean bit down on a grumble at her blocking Joey from his sight and quickly moved the jar of food out of the way to keep it from staining her work shirt. The girl was practically lying on the table in front of him. He’d have been glad to move the glass closer for her.
“Cute kid.” She smiled at Joey, but the little boy just stared at her with obvious speculation. The waitress went still and Dean followed her gaze to Joey whose eyes are now several shades lighter than his normal hazel.
Oh shit!
“Joey, bite.” Joey turned the eyes that Dean loves so much to him and Dean watched as they darkened to their natural shade. The waitress was still standing there and Dean threw back in his memory what the last thing she said was. Cute. Joey was cute. “Yeah, he takes after Sammy.”
And apparently his mother more than we thought.
It was blatantly clear to anyone with functioning eyes that Joey favored Sam. Chestnut hair, hazel eyes and honeyed skin, but it took a more practiced eye to see Casey there too, the almond shape of his eyes and the smooth curve of his lips. They had truly hoped those were the only legacies that Casey passed to her son. Joey obediently opened his mouth, but as soon as the green beans were safely inside he went back to staring intently at the waitress. The gaze was disturbing in its intensity, too focused for a child so small.
“So Sammy’s his father?” The question was innocent, but fire flooded down Dean’s back at hearing her call Sam by Dean’s nickname.
“Sam.” Dean corrected at the same moment Sam echoed him from behind her. Sam folded his long body back into the booth and reached over for the almost empty jar of baby food. “He's the only one who gets to call me that.” The fire tempered and diffused at Sam’s words, forming a generalized warmth in his chest.
“Sorry. I was just telling D- your friend that your little man is cute.” She ran an acrylic nailed hand over Joey’s head, ruffling his soft patch of hair at the crown, and Dean felt Sam mimic his tension from across the table. They never allowed anyone to touch their son. Sam worried about germs, Dean worried about people, them both worried about Joey’s potential powers. “I love kids,” she added, eyes fixed on Dean.
Joey’s rosebud mouth tipped down into a seldom seen frown and he slapped his hands down on the table, blowing raspberries at the girl. “Uh, sorry about that,” Sam stammered, trying to cover his shock at their little boy’s behavior. “He’s just learned to do that.”
“No worries. He’s adorable.” Another raspberry cut into the air and the waitress’ expression curdled into disgust. “Your food should be right out.” She turned on her heel and moved away quickly.
“What the hell was that?” Sam leaned over concerned.
“I think he was trying to say she was lying. His eyes changed colors like Casey’s used to when she was reading someone. I guess he’s starting to come into his…talents.”
“Oh Christ.” Sam rubbed a hand over his face. “I hoped we’d have a few more years before they started manifesting. I think Casey’s showed up when she was about three. At least the raspberry thing is harmless and can be explained as typical baby behavior.”
“I guess,” Dean agreed. “Look, Joey you gotta’ keep it on the down low, okay?”
“Yeah, that’s going to help.” Sam rolled his eyes. Deciding to change the subject, he asked about Dean’s shift and his schedule for the following week. Conversation flowed easily after that, interwoven around showering attention on the youngest family member and interruptions by their waitress to check on them. Their waitress was pretty good, if not a little odd. The food came out quickly despite the full restaurant and Dean’s glass no sooner got ¼ the way empty then she was there to refill it. She was clumsy, dropping her pen twice next to her table with both boys offering to bend over and pick it up for her, and Dean wondered several times if she had an eye condition or new contacts because some of her looks seemed off. After she touched Joey, Dean made sure to angle his arms around the boy so that she touched him instead. So all in all, good food, good service, great company.
“A package came from Bobby today. There was something in it for you.” Sam set his fork on his plate and dug out a small envelope from the diaper bag. Handing it over the table, sight glinted off a silver band on Sam’s right hand. Dean quirked an eyebrow, but Sam merely smirked and nodded his head at the envelope. In the upper left hand corner were the gold initials CAB.
So it was actually from Casey.
Tearing open the end, a silver band that matched Sam’s slid out into his palm. The outside surface of the ring was engraved with a repeated pattern of the same symbol. Studying it carefully, Dean’s mind was unable to determine what the symbol meant. He looked over at Sam questioningly.
“Remember Casey’s necklace? The one with the runes for her family engraved on it. She had a rune designed for our family. It’s a compilation of love, courage, bravery, honor and brotherhood, kinda like my bracelet. The note said that she thought we might be able to put rings to better use than necklaces. She sent an anklet for Joey to wear now and a necklace for when he’s older. “ Dean’s face was an unreadable mask and Sam backtracked. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want. I’m going to wear mine for Joey if for nothing else. It’s part of his heritage to wear family runes and I want to respect it.”
“No, no, no. Sam, that’s not it. It just surprised me, that’s all. I think they’re a great idea. Two birds with one stone. We can honor Joey’s heritage and show our, uh, commitment to each other.”
Dean looked away uncomfortably, but Sam steadied a gaze at him full of love and forever and maybe some filthy promises for later that night. Dean flushed a little and escaped to the bathroom before Sam could make any embarrassing public declarations.
“Your Deedee is a funny man, you know that Joey?” Sam pulled out a baby wipe and started the daunting task of wiping Joey’s face. “But, he loves us very much. Never doubt that.”
“You guys save room for dessert?” A bright voice came from the vicinity of Dean’s side of the table. In his peripheral Sam could see her gathering Dean’s silverware and finished plate.
“Nah, just the check when you get a chance.” Sam didn’t look up, concentrating on removing mashed potatoes from chubby cheeks. Contrary to what Dean would have everyone believe, Sam did possess some common sense and he knew that she’d done everything in her power short of straddling his brother’s lap to get noticed.
“So, um, Dean…”
Here we go.
Sam faced her to see if she was really willing to push. He was shocked to see Joey shift as well.
“Does he have a girlfriend…”
“Girlfriend?” The word slipped out before Sam had a chance to reel it back in. Oh crap you’re not serious. She didn’t know. “No, no girlfriend. I’m sure if he wants one, all he would have to do is pass around a copy of that calendar the kitchen staff has been drooling over.” Sam indicated the opening where he’d seen people appear periodically to whisper and point at their table, each and every one carrying a copy of that calendar. Sam didn’t mention the ogling to Dean because Dean was already mad enough at Sam over the calendar, having convinced him to pose for it.
Sam watched as a flicker of hope sputtered to life in the girl’s eyes. “Maybe someone should do something about it. I mean, it’s a shame for him to spend Christmas alone.”
“Maybe,” Sam answered, secure in knowing that Dean would never spend another day, nevermind, another Christmas alone.
“Maybe what?” Dean beamed at Sam over the waitress’ shoulders before sliding back into his seat.
“She asked if we were ready for the check. I wasn’t sure if you wanted dessert.” Years of practice had the words falling from his mouth smoothly. Joey’s chastised raspberry had him apologizing and asking forgiveness with a stroke down the baby’s soft cheek.
“Check, definitely. I still need to stop by a few stores before heading home.” Dean smirked and winked at the girl and Sam almost pitied her. Such attention was sometimes hard to bear.
“Sure. Give me just a second.”
Sam bet himself whether the ‘i’ in her name would be a dotted with a circle or a heart. Heart he thought and when she brought the check she didn’t disappoint. When Dean saw the name and number he chuckled and slipped the paper in his jacket pocket. Sam kept his face impassive, letting Dean play this out on his own terms. Sam tried to hide his giddy smile over seeing the silver ring shining on Dean’s finger.
Sam stood and adjusted the strap to the diaper bag over his shoulder and waited for Dean to stand. Turning toward the door, Dean cupped his elbow and stopped him.
“We’ll meet you at the door. “ Sam nodded and they separated: Sam to the exit and Dean to the kitchen.
Dean was able to catch the eye of their waitress and jerking his head, let her know that he wanted to see her by the bathroom. Joey watched his Deedee with a wary look. When the girl entered the small hallway that led to the bathrooms, Dean stepped up to her.
“Look, Sweetheart,” Dean decided to begin before she could get the wrong idea. He pulled the receipt with her name and number on it from his jacket pocket. “I wanted to give this back to you.” He held out the slip of paper for her to take.
The look on her face clearly told Dean that no one had ever returned her phone number. As soon as her sluggish fingers took the paper, Joey grabbed hold of Dean’s hand and pulled it to rest over the boy’s rapidly beating heart. Dean felt little fingers tug at his new ring as if showing her that Dean was taken. Dean bit his lip to fight his smile.
Yeah, Dean may not be as brilliant as his little brother, but he was light years from stupid. Subtlety was not this girl’s strong suit and she’d been throwing herself at him unabashedly for the last hour. Feeling another slight pull on the metal band, he wondered if she was so obvious that Joey noticed.
“I appreciate it and all and you’ve been working it pretty hard, but I think there has been a little misunderstanding. See, I go home to that,” he pointed his Sammy by the door, “and this” he waved the hand clasped in Joey’s fist. “You can’t compare.”
The girl’s face turned vicious. “Sam jealous? Worried about a little competition?”
Dean almost choked on his laugh. Wow. Didn’t see that coming.
“Sam? Jealous? Not hardly. You’re only jealous when you’re not sure something is truly yours. Trust me there are no questions that Sam and I belong to each other.” The words had a bit more fire to them than Dean really intended.
The bitch apparently couldn’t take a hint. She slipped the number back into his jacket pocket, whispering in his ear. “Nobody is that committed anymore. Keep this for when he screws up or when you want to.”
Knowing when to call something a lost cause, Dean spun on his heel and shook his head in disbelief. He pulled the paper from his pocket again and wadded it up, throwing it in the garbage can as he and Sam pushed into the cold December air.
“Hey, Sammy? We really left Florida for this.” Dean formed an ‘o’ with his mouth and exhaled a stream of hot air that turned misty white in the frigid temperature. “You know that last year we were in shorts, drinking beer on the beach Christmas afternoon.”
“Kids need to see the changing of the seasons, Dean,” Sam reasoned laughingly, handing Dean the keys to start the car while he buckled Joey in his seat. “Florida has two season: January and summer.”
“Too true, but it was nice.” Dean twisted the key in the ignition, proud when his newest mechanical baby started right up. The Jeep would never hold the same place as the Impala, but she got Sam and Joey where they needed to go safely and Dean thought she deserved some respect for it.
“Yeah it was, but so will a white Christmas.” He pressed his extended index finger to his lips, indicating to Dean that Joey was drifting off, so they both shut the door softly when they exited the car.
Walking to the back of the car, Sam saw their waitress watching them from the front windows of the restaurant. Guessing that Dean’s words hadn’t been enough, Sam decided to drive the idea home. Grabbing Dean by the waistband, he yanked him closer, slanting his mouth over Dean’s plush lips. He cupped Dean’s neck and felt the other man’s hands fist in the material of his jacket. They tilted on instinct, deepening the kiss in a way they knew and loved. Finally breaking away, Sam turned toward the building and smirked when the window was empty.
“You know, Sam. I never thought of you as an exhibitionist, but I gotta tell you this whole possessive parking lot kissing claiming thing is pretty hot.”
“Shut up,” Sam whispered against his lips, tugging him in for another kiss.
Author: JCRGIRL
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Wincest, AU, BabyFic (Non-MPreg)
Word Count: ~ 3400
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Just playing in Kripke's sandbox.
Summary: Sam, Dean and Joey eat lunch out three days before Christmas, Dean catches the eye of the waitress
Author Notes: Joey Verse, set six months after the end of that fic. Title from Santa Claus is Coming to Town by John Frederick Coots. This is a two part story with the 1st part told from 3rd party POV and the second part told by the boys. Un-betaed.
A/N 2: Some of you may be aware that I am fascinated with 3rd party POV, but this is my first fic written with a 3rd party and then the boys. I hope it came out okay.
Dean opened the glass doors to the front of the restaurant only to be accosted by the blaring of some modern pop version of a classic Christmas song. Dean really hated places like this, brash and loud and obscenely over-priced, but it was close to the mall and Dean had a few more gifts to pick up. Sam and Joey were in town picking up a few last minute things of their own and Dean had just finished a shift at the fire station so they decided to meet up for lunch.
“Welcome to - “ The girl choked slightly on her tongue and stared at him wide eyed. He raised his eyebrows as she gathered herself. “Table for one?”
“Three and we’ll need a high chair.” He smiled warmly, feeling sorry for the obviously flustered girl. The restaurant was nearly full and she was probably a little overwhelmed.
“Sure.” She bent behind the Hostess podium and stood back up with two adult menus and a child’s complete with crayons. Beaming so bright Dean swore he could see her wisdom teeth, she flourished her arm toward the main dining area. “Right this way.”
Led to a booth, Dean slipped onto the bench seat facing the door and nodded to the girl when she set down the menus. “Kim will be your server. She’ll be right with you.” Stumbling backward into a passing busboy, the girl blushed and took off in the direction of the kitchen. The busboy shrugged his shoulders at Dean and moved to a table that needed to be cleared. Chuckling softly, Dean moved the paper kid’s menu and the crayons away from the end of the table where Joey would sit and opened his menu.
He was still in the middle of debating whether he wanted a steak or just a hamburger when a sour looking blonde girl came up to the table. He noticed her check her watch and groan before a plastic smile clicked into place.
“Can I get you something to drink while you look over the menu?” She moved to look up at him, but was distracted by a crash from the kitchen.
“Yeah. Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll have an iced tea.” Dean smiled hoping to pull the girl from her gloomy mood.
Her shoulders tightened and her head snapped to him, mouth open to probably tell him off for the sexist name, but she stood there staring at him. Seeing as this was the second time in ten minutes someone had gaped at him like a fish, Dean rolled his eyes downward to check his appearance. He’d showered after his shift and changed into jeans and a gray sweater so he should be presentable. His sweater was unstained, his fly was up and he could smell the traces of his deodorant.
Okay maybe the Hostess wasn’t the only one under too much stress this Christmas season.
Looking at her nametag, he asked, “You okay, Kim?”
She snapped out of her stupor, a large smile breaking across her previously dour face. “Yeah. Of course Angel. Iced tea.” She wrote his drink choice on her pad. “See anything you want to eat?” Her smile turned predatory and she leaned over, boxing him in the booth.
“Not yet. I’m meeting someone so I’ll wait and we’ll order at the same time.”
Something odd flashed across her face, before she schooled her features and promised to return with his drink. Dean sat there for a moment and wondered what exactly had just happened when the Hostess, who’d been arching her back apparently trying to stretch her tense muscles, rushed by his table toward the kitchen.
Still waffling between a steak and a burger, the waitress reappeared with his tea, accidentally brushing his arm with her breasts when she set it down. He gave her a slight apologetic smile for being in the way, but she’d already hurried back to the kitchen.
Dean closed his menu, finally deciding on steak. It had been over a month since he or Sam had been able to cook on the grill outside and a good, juicy steak sounded really good. Looking up, he saw Sam and Joey standing just inside the entrance and waved them over. Approaching, Joey caught sight of him and began to wiggle wildly in Sam’s arms, impatient to get to Dean.
“Hey, Dean.”
“Heya, Sammy.”
Sam leaned over and angled Joey away from him and into Dean’s awaiting arms. Dean cuddled the little boy close, breathing in the smell of baby laundry detergent and baby shampoo.
Pulling himself out of his olfactory induced haze, he smiled fondly at the child’s father. Sam looked good today. The dark circles from days of sleep deprivation in preparation of finals were fading away and the dark blue of his university hoodie made his winter paled skin seem tanner.
“I asked the Hostess for a highchair, but she must have gotten distracted.”
“Not a problem, Dean. I’ll just go find one. I’m sure there are a stack of them somewhere.” Sam slid the diaper bag on the empty benchseat across from Dean and took off on a highchair hunt.
Dean started to peel away the layers of bundling that Sam coated Joey in this morning. The temperatures had been hovering in the teens for the last two weeks and Sam was petrified that Joey would catch cold.
“Did you and Daddy have fun today? Where’d you go little man, I swear I won’t tell the big guy you spilled? Did you go out and buy DeeDee a present?” Dean talked to Joey soothingly as more and more layers were heaped on the pile next to him. Adding a down jacket to the top and finally revealing the fire engine track suit Joey was wearing underneath, Dean tickled his tummy. “God, Joey, Sammy turned you into an Eskimo baby.”
Joey laughed - and if that wasn’t the best sound in the world, it should be in the top five and Dean wanted a stern re-vote on the other contenders - and patted Dean on his face in apparent glee. Dean sat Joey’s diapered bottom on the table top, little soft sole shoed feet resting on his thighs and large hands bracing his sides. He saw Sam returning with the highchair and a mischievious smile curls his lips. “Joey, you want Deedee to order you some mashed potatoes? Huh? Do mashed potatoes sound good? I bet you’d rather have those than that nasty jarred stuff Sammy brought.” Sam swore that he’d never get the kid to eat normal baby food as long as Dean fed him adult food. Dean had staunchly maintained that if Sam really liked jarred baby food so much he should eat it.
Sam rolled his eyes, setting the highchair at the end of the booth. “I’ll never be able to get him to eat baby food.” He pulled out a black and white checkered highchair liner from the diaper bag and fit it to the frame of the wooden seat. Dean lifted Joey up and Sam caught his pumping legs and guided them through the holes.
Flopping down in the seat with an exhausted sigh, Sam opened his menu to see what this fine establishment has to offer. If they’d gone to a dinner anywhere in the contiguous United States - hell, who knows, maybe all 50 - Sam could’ve ordered without ever seeing a menu, but this chain restaurant thing that Dean’s had going since Joey came in their lives still threw him off. Not that these cookie cutter places don’t offer the same fare from one place to the next, he just hasn’t had a chance to memorize the menu like 17 years of practice afforded him with the diners.
Pulling the diaper bag into his lap, he extracted a jar of pureed green beans, a bottle of juice and a bib without tearing his eyes from the vinyl coated menu in front of him. A slam from the cash register pulled his focus away and he shot a confused face to Dean.
“Our waitress is Little Mary Sunshine. “ Dean picked up the bib and fastened it under Joey’s chin around where his neck should be and popped open the jar of food, waiting for Sam to produce the small rubber coated spoon they use to feed Joey from the depths of the plaid menace. Joey’s eyes went wide at the sound of the vacuum seal popping on the jar and he started humming and bouncing in his seat with anticipation.
“You ready to order or should I give you a few more minutes?” The waitress was so close to Dean that her hip actually bumped his shoulder. Dean started to say something, but Joey was staring at her with the utmost concentration. Dean looked over at Sam to see if he noticed and stifled the laugh when he saw that Sam was poring over the menu with that same look, hand still moving blindly in the bag searching for a spoon.
Remembering the waitress was already harried, he decided to goad his oblivious brother into action. Pissed off help is how people get their food spat in. “Sammy? Pretty lady’s kinda’ busy. You know what you want?” He kicked Sam’s shin lightly under the table, satisfied when his brother jerked at the contact. Sam’s questing hand stilled and he looked up at Dean, blinking owlishly. “Waitress? Order?” Dean raised his eyebrows and waited.
“Oh, sorry.” Sam’s face was red with embarrassment, but he recovered quickly. “I’ll have the Southwest Chicken and an iced tea.” He closed his menu and turned his entire attention to finding the spoon in the bottom of the bag before Joey patience wore out.
Dean flashed the waitress his best ‘I’m sorry’ smile and ordered his steak and Joey’s mashed potatoes, winking at the waitress at Sam’s obligatory amused sigh. She smiled back, happy to be in on the joke.
Sam finally found the Holy Grail or Holy Spoon rather and handed it over to Dean, excusing himself to the restroom.
Dean shoveled spoonfuls of ground up vegetables into Joey’s mouth, but not fast enough to satisfy the little boy. Slapping little palms on the table in frustration, Joey rocked back and forth in his seat excitedly waiting the next bite.
“You doing an impersonation of Lars Ulrich for me,” Dean teased, amused at Joey’s enthusiasm for food. He liked to think he got something from Dean.
The waitress brought Sam’s glass of tea and stepped between Dean and Joey to refill Dean’s half empty glass. Dean bit down on a grumble at her blocking Joey from his sight and quickly moved the jar of food out of the way to keep it from staining her work shirt. The girl was practically lying on the table in front of him. He’d have been glad to move the glass closer for her.
“Cute kid.” She smiled at Joey, but the little boy just stared at her with obvious speculation. The waitress went still and Dean followed her gaze to Joey whose eyes are now several shades lighter than his normal hazel.
Oh shit!
“Joey, bite.” Joey turned the eyes that Dean loves so much to him and Dean watched as they darkened to their natural shade. The waitress was still standing there and Dean threw back in his memory what the last thing she said was. Cute. Joey was cute. “Yeah, he takes after Sammy.”
And apparently his mother more than we thought.
It was blatantly clear to anyone with functioning eyes that Joey favored Sam. Chestnut hair, hazel eyes and honeyed skin, but it took a more practiced eye to see Casey there too, the almond shape of his eyes and the smooth curve of his lips. They had truly hoped those were the only legacies that Casey passed to her son. Joey obediently opened his mouth, but as soon as the green beans were safely inside he went back to staring intently at the waitress. The gaze was disturbing in its intensity, too focused for a child so small.
“So Sammy’s his father?” The question was innocent, but fire flooded down Dean’s back at hearing her call Sam by Dean’s nickname.
“Sam.” Dean corrected at the same moment Sam echoed him from behind her. Sam folded his long body back into the booth and reached over for the almost empty jar of baby food. “He's the only one who gets to call me that.” The fire tempered and diffused at Sam’s words, forming a generalized warmth in his chest.
“Sorry. I was just telling D- your friend that your little man is cute.” She ran an acrylic nailed hand over Joey’s head, ruffling his soft patch of hair at the crown, and Dean felt Sam mimic his tension from across the table. They never allowed anyone to touch their son. Sam worried about germs, Dean worried about people, them both worried about Joey’s potential powers. “I love kids,” she added, eyes fixed on Dean.
Joey’s rosebud mouth tipped down into a seldom seen frown and he slapped his hands down on the table, blowing raspberries at the girl. “Uh, sorry about that,” Sam stammered, trying to cover his shock at their little boy’s behavior. “He’s just learned to do that.”
“No worries. He’s adorable.” Another raspberry cut into the air and the waitress’ expression curdled into disgust. “Your food should be right out.” She turned on her heel and moved away quickly.
“What the hell was that?” Sam leaned over concerned.
“I think he was trying to say she was lying. His eyes changed colors like Casey’s used to when she was reading someone. I guess he’s starting to come into his…talents.”
“Oh Christ.” Sam rubbed a hand over his face. “I hoped we’d have a few more years before they started manifesting. I think Casey’s showed up when she was about three. At least the raspberry thing is harmless and can be explained as typical baby behavior.”
“I guess,” Dean agreed. “Look, Joey you gotta’ keep it on the down low, okay?”
“Yeah, that’s going to help.” Sam rolled his eyes. Deciding to change the subject, he asked about Dean’s shift and his schedule for the following week. Conversation flowed easily after that, interwoven around showering attention on the youngest family member and interruptions by their waitress to check on them. Their waitress was pretty good, if not a little odd. The food came out quickly despite the full restaurant and Dean’s glass no sooner got ¼ the way empty then she was there to refill it. She was clumsy, dropping her pen twice next to her table with both boys offering to bend over and pick it up for her, and Dean wondered several times if she had an eye condition or new contacts because some of her looks seemed off. After she touched Joey, Dean made sure to angle his arms around the boy so that she touched him instead. So all in all, good food, good service, great company.
“A package came from Bobby today. There was something in it for you.” Sam set his fork on his plate and dug out a small envelope from the diaper bag. Handing it over the table, sight glinted off a silver band on Sam’s right hand. Dean quirked an eyebrow, but Sam merely smirked and nodded his head at the envelope. In the upper left hand corner were the gold initials CAB.
So it was actually from Casey.
Tearing open the end, a silver band that matched Sam’s slid out into his palm. The outside surface of the ring was engraved with a repeated pattern of the same symbol. Studying it carefully, Dean’s mind was unable to determine what the symbol meant. He looked over at Sam questioningly.
“Remember Casey’s necklace? The one with the runes for her family engraved on it. She had a rune designed for our family. It’s a compilation of love, courage, bravery, honor and brotherhood, kinda like my bracelet. The note said that she thought we might be able to put rings to better use than necklaces. She sent an anklet for Joey to wear now and a necklace for when he’s older. “ Dean’s face was an unreadable mask and Sam backtracked. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want. I’m going to wear mine for Joey if for nothing else. It’s part of his heritage to wear family runes and I want to respect it.”
“No, no, no. Sam, that’s not it. It just surprised me, that’s all. I think they’re a great idea. Two birds with one stone. We can honor Joey’s heritage and show our, uh, commitment to each other.”
Dean looked away uncomfortably, but Sam steadied a gaze at him full of love and forever and maybe some filthy promises for later that night. Dean flushed a little and escaped to the bathroom before Sam could make any embarrassing public declarations.
“Your Deedee is a funny man, you know that Joey?” Sam pulled out a baby wipe and started the daunting task of wiping Joey’s face. “But, he loves us very much. Never doubt that.”
“You guys save room for dessert?” A bright voice came from the vicinity of Dean’s side of the table. In his peripheral Sam could see her gathering Dean’s silverware and finished plate.
“Nah, just the check when you get a chance.” Sam didn’t look up, concentrating on removing mashed potatoes from chubby cheeks. Contrary to what Dean would have everyone believe, Sam did possess some common sense and he knew that she’d done everything in her power short of straddling his brother’s lap to get noticed.
“So, um, Dean…”
Here we go.
Sam faced her to see if she was really willing to push. He was shocked to see Joey shift as well.
“Does he have a girlfriend…”
“Girlfriend?” The word slipped out before Sam had a chance to reel it back in. Oh crap you’re not serious. She didn’t know. “No, no girlfriend. I’m sure if he wants one, all he would have to do is pass around a copy of that calendar the kitchen staff has been drooling over.” Sam indicated the opening where he’d seen people appear periodically to whisper and point at their table, each and every one carrying a copy of that calendar. Sam didn’t mention the ogling to Dean because Dean was already mad enough at Sam over the calendar, having convinced him to pose for it.
Sam watched as a flicker of hope sputtered to life in the girl’s eyes. “Maybe someone should do something about it. I mean, it’s a shame for him to spend Christmas alone.”
“Maybe,” Sam answered, secure in knowing that Dean would never spend another day, nevermind, another Christmas alone.
“Maybe what?” Dean beamed at Sam over the waitress’ shoulders before sliding back into his seat.
“She asked if we were ready for the check. I wasn’t sure if you wanted dessert.” Years of practice had the words falling from his mouth smoothly. Joey’s chastised raspberry had him apologizing and asking forgiveness with a stroke down the baby’s soft cheek.
“Check, definitely. I still need to stop by a few stores before heading home.” Dean smirked and winked at the girl and Sam almost pitied her. Such attention was sometimes hard to bear.
“Sure. Give me just a second.”
Sam bet himself whether the ‘i’ in her name would be a dotted with a circle or a heart. Heart he thought and when she brought the check she didn’t disappoint. When Dean saw the name and number he chuckled and slipped the paper in his jacket pocket. Sam kept his face impassive, letting Dean play this out on his own terms. Sam tried to hide his giddy smile over seeing the silver ring shining on Dean’s finger.
Sam stood and adjusted the strap to the diaper bag over his shoulder and waited for Dean to stand. Turning toward the door, Dean cupped his elbow and stopped him.
“We’ll meet you at the door. “ Sam nodded and they separated: Sam to the exit and Dean to the kitchen.
Dean was able to catch the eye of their waitress and jerking his head, let her know that he wanted to see her by the bathroom. Joey watched his Deedee with a wary look. When the girl entered the small hallway that led to the bathrooms, Dean stepped up to her.
“Look, Sweetheart,” Dean decided to begin before she could get the wrong idea. He pulled the receipt with her name and number on it from his jacket pocket. “I wanted to give this back to you.” He held out the slip of paper for her to take.
The look on her face clearly told Dean that no one had ever returned her phone number. As soon as her sluggish fingers took the paper, Joey grabbed hold of Dean’s hand and pulled it to rest over the boy’s rapidly beating heart. Dean felt little fingers tug at his new ring as if showing her that Dean was taken. Dean bit his lip to fight his smile.
Yeah, Dean may not be as brilliant as his little brother, but he was light years from stupid. Subtlety was not this girl’s strong suit and she’d been throwing herself at him unabashedly for the last hour. Feeling another slight pull on the metal band, he wondered if she was so obvious that Joey noticed.
“I appreciate it and all and you’ve been working it pretty hard, but I think there has been a little misunderstanding. See, I go home to that,” he pointed his Sammy by the door, “and this” he waved the hand clasped in Joey’s fist. “You can’t compare.”
The girl’s face turned vicious. “Sam jealous? Worried about a little competition?”
Dean almost choked on his laugh. Wow. Didn’t see that coming.
“Sam? Jealous? Not hardly. You’re only jealous when you’re not sure something is truly yours. Trust me there are no questions that Sam and I belong to each other.” The words had a bit more fire to them than Dean really intended.
The bitch apparently couldn’t take a hint. She slipped the number back into his jacket pocket, whispering in his ear. “Nobody is that committed anymore. Keep this for when he screws up or when you want to.”
Knowing when to call something a lost cause, Dean spun on his heel and shook his head in disbelief. He pulled the paper from his pocket again and wadded it up, throwing it in the garbage can as he and Sam pushed into the cold December air.
“Hey, Sammy? We really left Florida for this.” Dean formed an ‘o’ with his mouth and exhaled a stream of hot air that turned misty white in the frigid temperature. “You know that last year we were in shorts, drinking beer on the beach Christmas afternoon.”
“Kids need to see the changing of the seasons, Dean,” Sam reasoned laughingly, handing Dean the keys to start the car while he buckled Joey in his seat. “Florida has two season: January and summer.”
“Too true, but it was nice.” Dean twisted the key in the ignition, proud when his newest mechanical baby started right up. The Jeep would never hold the same place as the Impala, but she got Sam and Joey where they needed to go safely and Dean thought she deserved some respect for it.
“Yeah it was, but so will a white Christmas.” He pressed his extended index finger to his lips, indicating to Dean that Joey was drifting off, so they both shut the door softly when they exited the car.
Walking to the back of the car, Sam saw their waitress watching them from the front windows of the restaurant. Guessing that Dean’s words hadn’t been enough, Sam decided to drive the idea home. Grabbing Dean by the waistband, he yanked him closer, slanting his mouth over Dean’s plush lips. He cupped Dean’s neck and felt the other man’s hands fist in the material of his jacket. They tilted on instinct, deepening the kiss in a way they knew and loved. Finally breaking away, Sam turned toward the building and smirked when the window was empty.
“You know, Sam. I never thought of you as an exhibitionist, but I gotta tell you this whole possessive parking lot kissing claiming thing is pretty hot.”
“Shut up,” Sam whispered against his lips, tugging him in for another kiss.