Home in Motion: A Supernatural Dean/Cas Fanfic Ch. 8
Title: Home in Motion
Story Summary: Castiel swore he was done with spur of the moment decisions that permanently changed dean Winchester's life. A year after the angel's most disastrous, his newest may present the largest challenge of dean's life: Fatherhood.
Pairing: Dean/Cas eventually.
Chapter: 8 Lunch Date
Chapter Summary: Cas and Dean grab lunch while Sam nad Bobby investigate
Warnings: Spoilers through the end of season 6 and potential spoilers for events in 7, though for the sake of the story's flow, season 7 didn't happen the way it did in the show. (I just may need to borrow beasties.) Though this story involves fatherhood, this is not an mpreg fic.
Previous Chapters
Chapter 8
Lunch Date
"Find me a man who's interesting enough to have dinner with and I'll be happy."
Lauren Bacall, American actress.
Castiel found himself staring at his suit and coat spread across the motel bed as Johnny played on the floor with one of his toys. Emma had very politely pointed out that while there was no dress code--whatever that meant--at this restaurant, he might look out of place in Dean's clothing. That left him with his familiar suit, but he got the impression she wasn't expecting him to dress in a suit and tie. That didn't seem to be lunch attire, if there was such a thing, even if Dean would be arriving still wearing his FBI get-up.
Once again, he would have to appear in public without his comfortable layers, and once again, he wasn't going to like it.
#
"We are still on the lookout for Mrs. Butler's dog," the animal control officer said. "When we got a Pomeranian in about a week and a half ago, we thought we finally had the right dog, but they weren't the same animal."
"And you know this how?" Bobby asked. He saw Sam wandering through the shelter, checking out each of the dogs discreetly with silver to see if any react.
"We had one of our on-call veterinarians check her out. Mrs. Butler's dog had a microchip, and we couldn't find one, neither could the vet's office. They compared records, too. Said they couldn't have been the same dog."
"Let me guess. The vet was Sophia Roth?" Bobby said. He really didn't want to be suspicious of the woman. She had seemed to genuinely regret how she had handled the situation with the other skinwalker. Unfortunately, two in a row sounded warning bells in Bobby's head.
On the bright side, he would get to see Louise again. Bobby wasn't quite sure how things were going with Jody back in Sioux Falls, and a little flirting certainly didn't hurt his ego. He could do with a little friendly banter from a woman who wasn't, for once, spending the biggest portion of her time ogling one of the brothers.
"It was, actually." the man said. "You've met Sophia?"
"We were just talking to her about the unfortunate death of Mr. Masters."
"Can't believe she'd make a mistake like that," the animal control officer said. "I've known Sophia for seven years and she's never been anything but the best thing to happen to this town's animals. We talked about it, and I told her that if she ever felt pressured by someone like Ms. Walker again to step out of the room and give me a call for moral support if nothing else."
"It's a good thing she has a friend like you," Bobby said. Though there was a fairly obvious dynamic between the animal control officer and the good animal doctor of unrequited and completely one-sided love. He supposed he could understand why. She hadn't been so hard on the eyes. Now that he thought about it, the woman reminded him of Catherine Zeta Jones, and that woman was beautiful. The only reason Bobby was going to willingly sit through a musical was going to be her in fishnets.
And his mind was wandering.
"If you could get me the name of the Pomeranian's owner, I'd appreciate it. We just need to be thorough. You understand."
The guy behind the counter nodded and printed off the information on the dog. As the printer was whirring back to life, Sam came back into the office. "All clean," he said quietly. Well that was good news. They had a pack of who knows how many dogs, but at least the dozen or so in cages where they couldn't do any harm were all clean.
Even his own mind couldn't comprehend the level of his sarcasm in those thoughts.
"I'm going to make a trip back to the vet's. Apparently, she checked out the Pom, too. I need you to talk to this Emma Wennerstrand." Bobby handed the other hunter the freshly printed paper.
"Are you going to try to set up a date with Louise?" Sam asked with a smirk.
"I am going to act like a professional concerning this case, idjit." Bobby said. "If Louise happens to want to have dinner tonight, well good for me."
"Just don't bring her back to our room," Sam muttered as he walked out of the front door.
#
Dean put on his most purposely charming grin as he entered the tiny jewelry shop on Main Street. So far, his investigations into other related incidents or unusual deaths hadn't turned up much. This pack seemed to have better leadership than most, and Dean could only imagine that the two skinwalkers who had rebelled against their owners had hell to pay to some superior or another. Since it looked like Emma was not only a local but owned a shop not far from the dog park, if there was anyone in this town who might know something, he guessed it would be her.
And if she didn't know, she could direct him where to go, perhaps over a private dinner or coffee at her place. Dean might have been getting a little ahead of himself, but who was he to pass up the chance to get with a very, very hot woman?
The bells tinkled as he entered into the shop, and he saw Emma was already waiting with her purse. She looked professional, and perhaps a little older than Dean had originally guessed while she had been wearing the T-shirt at Wal-Mart. With her blond hair more expertly curled and tousled, a deep blue linen shirt and black dress pants, the woman looked to be about 25 or so, but still gorgeous. Her eyes were so dark that a person would have to search for the pupils, yet the blond hair did seem to be natural, along with everything else.
"Hi, Dean," she said with a smile as she readjusted the strap on her purse.
That was when Dean realized they were alone in the shop. While normally, this was a good turn of events, it meant that he didn't know where Johnny or Cas were, and that was bad. He'd been a father to Johnny for all of 48 hours and already he could feel that crazy Winchester protective instinct kicking in.
"Are Johnny and Cas in the back?" he asked, hoping there was a back to this store.
Emma shook her head. "There isn't much back there but sharp objects and tools to make the jewelry. Not a good spot for Johnny. Cas headed back to the hotel so that he could change into something a little less casual for lunch. The restaurant isn't fancy..."
"But customers don't usually show up in a T-shirt and track pants." Dean chuckled. He had left his suit coat in the Impala and was still trying to decide what to do about the tie. He hated the thing. "He'll be wearing the same thing you saw him in last night. Cas doesn't quite get dressing appropriately for a situation. He's sort of a one-note wonder when it comes to clothes. Including that trench coat."
And yet, when the bells signaled someone's entrance, Cas managed to prove him wrong. Though he'd changed Johnny out of the car shirt and into a tan polo shirt, what was startling was that there was no tie, no suit coat, no trench coat on the angel. He was back in his white shirt and black pants, but the top two buttons of the white shirt were undone and the sleeves were casually rolled up to his forearms.
Twice today already he had seen Cas looking startlingly different, merely because of a change in clothes. He had looked small and far more defenseless than Dean knew him to actually be while he'd worn Dean's too-big clothes. Now, as he carried Dean's son with a backpack slung over his shoulder, he looked like an average Joe.
It didn't surprise Dean to think that the angel's usual clothing was something of a security blanket for him. Dean had his own, and the ones that remained he wore even when he pretended to be an FBI agent. The ring and even the Tibetan skull bracelet were never off his body. Before he'd thrown it away, he'd never taken that amulet off, either, not until Cas asked him. He didn't miss it as much as he once did, but he wasn't relinquishing his other security blankets any time soon, so he could sympathize with the angel.
Still, it was strange to see the dusting of dark hair on arms that peaked out from the white shirt and to actually see Cas's collarbone. Though both had been visible before when he'd been wearing Dean's clothes, the hunter hadn't noticed these things earlier. That may have been attributed to the fact that he was amused that the all powerful angel could be so easily dwarfed by the hunter's belongings. Even then, Cas had still seemed the normal angel, if an indignant one, but now, he had to admit that his friend looked human.
"I hope that this will be appropriate," Cas said as he adjusted Johnny's position in his arms.
"You look fine," Emma assured him. It was the sound of her voice that made the hunter realize he'd been staring. Cas gave him an odd look, and Dean felt a hand on his arm. "Doesn't he, Dean?"
Dean glanced down at Emma and her hand, then back at Cas. "Yeah. Today has been a big change of pace for you, Cas."
That earned the hunter a small quirk of the lips. "Perhaps you would like to take Johnny?" he offered. Johnny didn't seem to care which of them it was that held him, so long as it was one of them. The baby had not yet developed any real preference for one of them over the other. Still, Dean knew he might have to leave Johnny with Cas for the rest of the afternoon, so he thought he should at least spend some time with him while he could.
If he could find any positives about his time with Ben and Lisa through the ache that still lingered, it was that some of the more basic concepts of fatherhood came more easily to Dean than they probably would have otherwise. It was a much steeper learning curve when it came to the baby things, but at least he got the basic idea.
When Johnny quickly snuggled against Dean's chest, he assumed he was doing a few things right. Then again, what Johnny had to compare Dean--and Cas--to didn't sound all that impressive, anyway.
Emma offered a dimpled smile and held the door open for the two men and the baby before locking up her shop. "So," she said, placing a hand on Cas's arm, "Cas and I were talking, and he said he'd never seen the Princess Bride. Please tell me that you've at least seen it, and if you didn't like it, pretend you did."
"Good movie," Dean said. He had others that ranked higher on his list of favorites, but he'd always liked the sword fighting, and come on, it had Andre the Giant. He remembered one of the theaters in Sioux Falls had shown it a couple of years after it came out, and Bobby had taken him and Sam to see it while their dad had been hunting a chupacabra in Oklahoma. Dean loved his dad and looked up to him and would give anything to have him back, but... nearly all of the traditional "dad stuff" had been Bobby's domain.
"She suggested that we 'make a night of it,'" Cas said, and Dean had to admit the idea had promise. Rent a copy of it, sit at Emma's place with some popcorn, some beer... But then there was Johnny to think about. And as much as Dean liked the idea of saying goodnight to his angel after the credits started the roll and having some fun with Emma, it seemed wrong to ask Cas to babysit for him so early on. Even if Cas was the entire reason he found himself in this situation--and that thought made Dean pause for a moment because it made it sound like Cas had somehow managed to knock him up--the hunter wasn't going to bail on the kid so soon after getting him.
"Maybe we could," Dean said, deciding that leaving it vague was best. Noncommittal always worked best when he knew nothing was going to happen with a particular girl. And though Emma was fucking gorgeous, it was totally the wrong time.
The blonde led them over to a small corner restaurant. The wooden and glass door was thick and obviously old. Though it was apparent to Dean once he got inside that standards were not so strict, there had probably been a time when this restaurant, which according to the sign had been there since 1948, had been one of the fanciest in the town. The wait staff was all clad in maroon dress shirts or blouses and black pants or skirts, while the bus boys wore black polos and the host, a young man no more than 20, was stuck with an unusual shade of yellow. He supposed to interior design-y types, the colors all worked, but all Dean could think of was mustard as he looked at the brown-haired man in the hipster glasses.
Thankfully, despite a decidedly artsy hair cut and the black-rimmed specs, the host had none of the annoying demeanor Dean had been anticipating. The very moment he saw Emma, his whole face lit up. He immediately gave her a hug and a quick kiss to the cheek. Dean was trying very hard as he watched them interact not to stereotype the guy, but he was giving the hunter a sort of vibe that he was gay. Sam always hated when Dean would try to pinpoint who was gay or who wasn't in a crowd, and he tried to be open-minded, but he was 99.99 percent sure this guy wasn't straight.
Emma and the young man, who was talking about high school and so was even younger than Dean had initially thought, exchanged a quick conversation before they were interrupted by the clearing of a throat from one of the red shirts. (They might have been maroon or brick or whatever, but as a discreet Star Trek fan, Dean preferred red shirts.) The teen's face turned pink.
"Let me show you to your table," he said as he escorted them over to a corner booth where one of the waiters was already setting up a high chair for Johnny.
"Oh, Trevor, I didn't introduce you. This is Dean with Johnny and Cas."
"Cas?" Trevor asked as he set the menus on the table. "Is that short for something?"
Dean had never thought to cover for the angel's unusual name before, but it made sense. But what cover, or better yet, what alternative name could he give the teenager that wouldn't be an inadvertent insult to Cas?
"Castiel. My... father was particularly fond of Judeo Christian mythology. I was named after the Angel of Thursday." Cas's eyes met Deans, seeking approval for the damned near incredible--for Cas--half-truth he'd told the waiter. The hunter certainly had to offer a nod of the head to let him know he'd done a good job. And then it struck him that he hadn't known that about Cas.
"Why didn't I already know that about your name?" Dean asked as he set Johnny in his high chair. "The Angel of Thursday thing."
"It has never come up in conversation. You have never before asked me about... the origin of my name." Dean didn't know what surprised him more, that there was disappointment in Cas's voice or that he'd noticed it in the first place.
Trey-Trever-whatever his name was told them the specials for the day and got their drink orders before rushing off away from the stern looks from the red shirts.
"So he's one of those types," Emma said, giving Cas a sympathetic smile as she slid into the far side of one of the booths so that the angel could sit beside her. Dean was beginning to feel like a third wheel, or rather a mismatched fourth. Johnny seemed cool with the whole situation as he was buckled into the chair. "I bet you know everything about him."
"Not all," Cas answered. "Dean doesn't like me to pry."
"But you know where his name comes from?"
"His grandmother," Cas said. "She was named Deanna."
Emma made a faint clucking noise as she shook her head at Dean. It was all done good naturedly, but Dean didn't like to have his shortcomings pointed out to him. He'd screwed up a lot when it came to Cas, not thanking him nearly often enough, not just talking to him or calling on him for anything that didn't relate to something Dean needed. But things had gotten better. He should have known he was the Angel of Thursday. Hell, the jokes he could have made alone were reason he should have known that.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm a heel." He placed a bib around Johnny's neck. The fact that these came in Velcro was amazing. He remembered his dad freaking out when he'd had to tie a bib around Sammy's neck and had done it too tight. It wasn't as though he'd done it to the point it constricted the then-toddler's airflow, but it had been enough to make John Winchester see visions of his youngest son turning blue or gasping for air. It had been an overreaction, but it was one of the earliest lessons Dean got in the importance of keeping Sammy safe.
"I do not understand how you are related to the back end of a shoe," Cas said, looking as confused as ever.
"It's a saying, Cas," Dean said as he gave a quick glance to the menu while the angel pulled out a small container of what looked like thin paste.
"I purchased the cereal for Johnny, as the woman at the diner suggested," the angel said. Dean couldn't fight the instinctual curling of his lip at the stuff. He didn't care if Johnny needed to see the action of eating imitated or not, he sure as hell wasn't putting that in his own mouth.
He looked to the baby. "I'm very, very sorry, kid." Johnny just looked at him with those big green eyes. He was so innocent and so trusting.
And they were going to feed him paste.
"Select something off the menu for me," Cas said as he began stirring the white substance with a small purple spoon. "I have no preference."
It was Cas's way of saying, "I have no idea what to pick, nor do I need to eat it, so come up with something that won't make me look like a freak in front of this woman."
This place had some sort of "Best of Italy" lunch special for two. That'd work. And if Dean ate a little more than his share, no problem.
He glanced up to see Johnny giving Cas the most pathetic look. He was eating the odd cereal, but he looked almost betrayed. Dean felt the sudden need to apologize to Johnny for a second time. Instead, he reached a hand up to rub at at the small shoulder. He felt like a coach trying to encourage a player to push through it. And, he supposed, in a way he was.
"I swear the solid stuff gets so much better," he said as he watched the baby eat. "Just wait til you get to try a bacon cheeseburger. And pie. You'll love pie."
#
Bobby knew that neither of the boys thought much of his skills with the ladies. Most of the time, he didn't think much of them, himself. But on occasion, when he just knew that someone was interested and the odds of having to interact with them again was limited, Bobby managed to be downright charming.
"Hello again, Louise."
"Well, Officer Jones--"
"Call me Bobby," he told her.
"Bobby," she repeated. "Not that I'm not very glad to see you, but what brings you back so soon?"
"I needed to see the doctor again," he told her as he leaned against the counter to smile down at the seated woman. "Though coming back isn't without its perks."
The doctor stepped out from the filing area. "Hello again Officer Jones. Is there a problem?" She looked down at Louise. "You gave him all of the files he needed on Bright Eyes, right?" The younger woman tucked her long black hair behind her ear as she readjusted the position of the files in her arms.
"Sure did," Louise replied with a grin up at Bobby.
"Bright Eyes isn't the problem. We actually had a question about Mrs. Butler's dog and a Pomeranian you inspected for the animal shelter." The hunter watched the vet for any tells, anything to indicate she was preparing to tell a lie. She looked momentarily confused and then moved to the computer beside Louise. "I treated Jasmine, Mrs. Butler's Pom. And I remember there being a Pomeranian when the office did our routine checks on the shelter's animals." She began scanning through the computer. "Let's see, I saw a good, old-fashioned mutt, a boutique mutt..." She gave Bobby a smirk. "A schnoodle, they called it." The attractive young woman gave a roll of her eyes before resuming her reading. "Two pit bulls, another mutt. ... Here's your Pomeranian."
"You inspected it?"
"No. Ronald did. He's been part of the practice for the last two years," she said. "He will be in tomorrow, but I have his reports here. He inspected the shelter dog and found it to be about five, no microchip or sign there had been one... Female though. Like Mrs. Butler's, but her dog was slow. We were medicating her with pain killers to help with her joints."
Dr. Roth stood up straight and put a hand on Louise's shoulder. "Could you get those for Officer Jones? I have to see to Mrs. Edward's cat."
"Finally having to put the poor thing down?" Louise asked, and received a nod from the doctor.
"I hope that helps, Officer," the vet said before disappearing to the back once again.
Bobby hoped it did, too.
Story Summary: Castiel swore he was done with spur of the moment decisions that permanently changed dean Winchester's life. A year after the angel's most disastrous, his newest may present the largest challenge of dean's life: Fatherhood.
Pairing: Dean/Cas eventually.
Chapter: 8 Lunch Date
Chapter Summary: Cas and Dean grab lunch while Sam nad Bobby investigate
Warnings: Spoilers through the end of season 6 and potential spoilers for events in 7, though for the sake of the story's flow, season 7 didn't happen the way it did in the show. (I just may need to borrow beasties.) Though this story involves fatherhood, this is not an mpreg fic.
Previous Chapters
Chapter 8
Lunch Date
"Find me a man who's interesting enough to have dinner with and I'll be happy."
Lauren Bacall, American actress.
Castiel found himself staring at his suit and coat spread across the motel bed as Johnny played on the floor with one of his toys. Emma had very politely pointed out that while there was no dress code--whatever that meant--at this restaurant, he might look out of place in Dean's clothing. That left him with his familiar suit, but he got the impression she wasn't expecting him to dress in a suit and tie. That didn't seem to be lunch attire, if there was such a thing, even if Dean would be arriving still wearing his FBI get-up.
Once again, he would have to appear in public without his comfortable layers, and once again, he wasn't going to like it.
#
"We are still on the lookout for Mrs. Butler's dog," the animal control officer said. "When we got a Pomeranian in about a week and a half ago, we thought we finally had the right dog, but they weren't the same animal."
"And you know this how?" Bobby asked. He saw Sam wandering through the shelter, checking out each of the dogs discreetly with silver to see if any react.
"We had one of our on-call veterinarians check her out. Mrs. Butler's dog had a microchip, and we couldn't find one, neither could the vet's office. They compared records, too. Said they couldn't have been the same dog."
"Let me guess. The vet was Sophia Roth?" Bobby said. He really didn't want to be suspicious of the woman. She had seemed to genuinely regret how she had handled the situation with the other skinwalker. Unfortunately, two in a row sounded warning bells in Bobby's head.
On the bright side, he would get to see Louise again. Bobby wasn't quite sure how things were going with Jody back in Sioux Falls, and a little flirting certainly didn't hurt his ego. He could do with a little friendly banter from a woman who wasn't, for once, spending the biggest portion of her time ogling one of the brothers.
"It was, actually." the man said. "You've met Sophia?"
"We were just talking to her about the unfortunate death of Mr. Masters."
"Can't believe she'd make a mistake like that," the animal control officer said. "I've known Sophia for seven years and she's never been anything but the best thing to happen to this town's animals. We talked about it, and I told her that if she ever felt pressured by someone like Ms. Walker again to step out of the room and give me a call for moral support if nothing else."
"It's a good thing she has a friend like you," Bobby said. Though there was a fairly obvious dynamic between the animal control officer and the good animal doctor of unrequited and completely one-sided love. He supposed he could understand why. She hadn't been so hard on the eyes. Now that he thought about it, the woman reminded him of Catherine Zeta Jones, and that woman was beautiful. The only reason Bobby was going to willingly sit through a musical was going to be her in fishnets.
And his mind was wandering.
"If you could get me the name of the Pomeranian's owner, I'd appreciate it. We just need to be thorough. You understand."
The guy behind the counter nodded and printed off the information on the dog. As the printer was whirring back to life, Sam came back into the office. "All clean," he said quietly. Well that was good news. They had a pack of who knows how many dogs, but at least the dozen or so in cages where they couldn't do any harm were all clean.
Even his own mind couldn't comprehend the level of his sarcasm in those thoughts.
"I'm going to make a trip back to the vet's. Apparently, she checked out the Pom, too. I need you to talk to this Emma Wennerstrand." Bobby handed the other hunter the freshly printed paper.
"Are you going to try to set up a date with Louise?" Sam asked with a smirk.
"I am going to act like a professional concerning this case, idjit." Bobby said. "If Louise happens to want to have dinner tonight, well good for me."
"Just don't bring her back to our room," Sam muttered as he walked out of the front door.
#
Dean put on his most purposely charming grin as he entered the tiny jewelry shop on Main Street. So far, his investigations into other related incidents or unusual deaths hadn't turned up much. This pack seemed to have better leadership than most, and Dean could only imagine that the two skinwalkers who had rebelled against their owners had hell to pay to some superior or another. Since it looked like Emma was not only a local but owned a shop not far from the dog park, if there was anyone in this town who might know something, he guessed it would be her.
And if she didn't know, she could direct him where to go, perhaps over a private dinner or coffee at her place. Dean might have been getting a little ahead of himself, but who was he to pass up the chance to get with a very, very hot woman?
The bells tinkled as he entered into the shop, and he saw Emma was already waiting with her purse. She looked professional, and perhaps a little older than Dean had originally guessed while she had been wearing the T-shirt at Wal-Mart. With her blond hair more expertly curled and tousled, a deep blue linen shirt and black dress pants, the woman looked to be about 25 or so, but still gorgeous. Her eyes were so dark that a person would have to search for the pupils, yet the blond hair did seem to be natural, along with everything else.
"Hi, Dean," she said with a smile as she readjusted the strap on her purse.
That was when Dean realized they were alone in the shop. While normally, this was a good turn of events, it meant that he didn't know where Johnny or Cas were, and that was bad. He'd been a father to Johnny for all of 48 hours and already he could feel that crazy Winchester protective instinct kicking in.
"Are Johnny and Cas in the back?" he asked, hoping there was a back to this store.
Emma shook her head. "There isn't much back there but sharp objects and tools to make the jewelry. Not a good spot for Johnny. Cas headed back to the hotel so that he could change into something a little less casual for lunch. The restaurant isn't fancy..."
"But customers don't usually show up in a T-shirt and track pants." Dean chuckled. He had left his suit coat in the Impala and was still trying to decide what to do about the tie. He hated the thing. "He'll be wearing the same thing you saw him in last night. Cas doesn't quite get dressing appropriately for a situation. He's sort of a one-note wonder when it comes to clothes. Including that trench coat."
And yet, when the bells signaled someone's entrance, Cas managed to prove him wrong. Though he'd changed Johnny out of the car shirt and into a tan polo shirt, what was startling was that there was no tie, no suit coat, no trench coat on the angel. He was back in his white shirt and black pants, but the top two buttons of the white shirt were undone and the sleeves were casually rolled up to his forearms.
Twice today already he had seen Cas looking startlingly different, merely because of a change in clothes. He had looked small and far more defenseless than Dean knew him to actually be while he'd worn Dean's too-big clothes. Now, as he carried Dean's son with a backpack slung over his shoulder, he looked like an average Joe.
It didn't surprise Dean to think that the angel's usual clothing was something of a security blanket for him. Dean had his own, and the ones that remained he wore even when he pretended to be an FBI agent. The ring and even the Tibetan skull bracelet were never off his body. Before he'd thrown it away, he'd never taken that amulet off, either, not until Cas asked him. He didn't miss it as much as he once did, but he wasn't relinquishing his other security blankets any time soon, so he could sympathize with the angel.
Still, it was strange to see the dusting of dark hair on arms that peaked out from the white shirt and to actually see Cas's collarbone. Though both had been visible before when he'd been wearing Dean's clothes, the hunter hadn't noticed these things earlier. That may have been attributed to the fact that he was amused that the all powerful angel could be so easily dwarfed by the hunter's belongings. Even then, Cas had still seemed the normal angel, if an indignant one, but now, he had to admit that his friend looked human.
"I hope that this will be appropriate," Cas said as he adjusted Johnny's position in his arms.
"You look fine," Emma assured him. It was the sound of her voice that made the hunter realize he'd been staring. Cas gave him an odd look, and Dean felt a hand on his arm. "Doesn't he, Dean?"
Dean glanced down at Emma and her hand, then back at Cas. "Yeah. Today has been a big change of pace for you, Cas."
That earned the hunter a small quirk of the lips. "Perhaps you would like to take Johnny?" he offered. Johnny didn't seem to care which of them it was that held him, so long as it was one of them. The baby had not yet developed any real preference for one of them over the other. Still, Dean knew he might have to leave Johnny with Cas for the rest of the afternoon, so he thought he should at least spend some time with him while he could.
If he could find any positives about his time with Ben and Lisa through the ache that still lingered, it was that some of the more basic concepts of fatherhood came more easily to Dean than they probably would have otherwise. It was a much steeper learning curve when it came to the baby things, but at least he got the basic idea.
When Johnny quickly snuggled against Dean's chest, he assumed he was doing a few things right. Then again, what Johnny had to compare Dean--and Cas--to didn't sound all that impressive, anyway.
Emma offered a dimpled smile and held the door open for the two men and the baby before locking up her shop. "So," she said, placing a hand on Cas's arm, "Cas and I were talking, and he said he'd never seen the Princess Bride. Please tell me that you've at least seen it, and if you didn't like it, pretend you did."
"Good movie," Dean said. He had others that ranked higher on his list of favorites, but he'd always liked the sword fighting, and come on, it had Andre the Giant. He remembered one of the theaters in Sioux Falls had shown it a couple of years after it came out, and Bobby had taken him and Sam to see it while their dad had been hunting a chupacabra in Oklahoma. Dean loved his dad and looked up to him and would give anything to have him back, but... nearly all of the traditional "dad stuff" had been Bobby's domain.
"She suggested that we 'make a night of it,'" Cas said, and Dean had to admit the idea had promise. Rent a copy of it, sit at Emma's place with some popcorn, some beer... But then there was Johnny to think about. And as much as Dean liked the idea of saying goodnight to his angel after the credits started the roll and having some fun with Emma, it seemed wrong to ask Cas to babysit for him so early on. Even if Cas was the entire reason he found himself in this situation--and that thought made Dean pause for a moment because it made it sound like Cas had somehow managed to knock him up--the hunter wasn't going to bail on the kid so soon after getting him.
"Maybe we could," Dean said, deciding that leaving it vague was best. Noncommittal always worked best when he knew nothing was going to happen with a particular girl. And though Emma was fucking gorgeous, it was totally the wrong time.
The blonde led them over to a small corner restaurant. The wooden and glass door was thick and obviously old. Though it was apparent to Dean once he got inside that standards were not so strict, there had probably been a time when this restaurant, which according to the sign had been there since 1948, had been one of the fanciest in the town. The wait staff was all clad in maroon dress shirts or blouses and black pants or skirts, while the bus boys wore black polos and the host, a young man no more than 20, was stuck with an unusual shade of yellow. He supposed to interior design-y types, the colors all worked, but all Dean could think of was mustard as he looked at the brown-haired man in the hipster glasses.
Thankfully, despite a decidedly artsy hair cut and the black-rimmed specs, the host had none of the annoying demeanor Dean had been anticipating. The very moment he saw Emma, his whole face lit up. He immediately gave her a hug and a quick kiss to the cheek. Dean was trying very hard as he watched them interact not to stereotype the guy, but he was giving the hunter a sort of vibe that he was gay. Sam always hated when Dean would try to pinpoint who was gay or who wasn't in a crowd, and he tried to be open-minded, but he was 99.99 percent sure this guy wasn't straight.
Emma and the young man, who was talking about high school and so was even younger than Dean had initially thought, exchanged a quick conversation before they were interrupted by the clearing of a throat from one of the red shirts. (They might have been maroon or brick or whatever, but as a discreet Star Trek fan, Dean preferred red shirts.) The teen's face turned pink.
"Let me show you to your table," he said as he escorted them over to a corner booth where one of the waiters was already setting up a high chair for Johnny.
"Oh, Trevor, I didn't introduce you. This is Dean with Johnny and Cas."
"Cas?" Trevor asked as he set the menus on the table. "Is that short for something?"
Dean had never thought to cover for the angel's unusual name before, but it made sense. But what cover, or better yet, what alternative name could he give the teenager that wouldn't be an inadvertent insult to Cas?
"Castiel. My... father was particularly fond of Judeo Christian mythology. I was named after the Angel of Thursday." Cas's eyes met Deans, seeking approval for the damned near incredible--for Cas--half-truth he'd told the waiter. The hunter certainly had to offer a nod of the head to let him know he'd done a good job. And then it struck him that he hadn't known that about Cas.
"Why didn't I already know that about your name?" Dean asked as he set Johnny in his high chair. "The Angel of Thursday thing."
"It has never come up in conversation. You have never before asked me about... the origin of my name." Dean didn't know what surprised him more, that there was disappointment in Cas's voice or that he'd noticed it in the first place.
Trey-Trever-whatever his name was told them the specials for the day and got their drink orders before rushing off away from the stern looks from the red shirts.
"So he's one of those types," Emma said, giving Cas a sympathetic smile as she slid into the far side of one of the booths so that the angel could sit beside her. Dean was beginning to feel like a third wheel, or rather a mismatched fourth. Johnny seemed cool with the whole situation as he was buckled into the chair. "I bet you know everything about him."
"Not all," Cas answered. "Dean doesn't like me to pry."
"But you know where his name comes from?"
"His grandmother," Cas said. "She was named Deanna."
Emma made a faint clucking noise as she shook her head at Dean. It was all done good naturedly, but Dean didn't like to have his shortcomings pointed out to him. He'd screwed up a lot when it came to Cas, not thanking him nearly often enough, not just talking to him or calling on him for anything that didn't relate to something Dean needed. But things had gotten better. He should have known he was the Angel of Thursday. Hell, the jokes he could have made alone were reason he should have known that.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm a heel." He placed a bib around Johnny's neck. The fact that these came in Velcro was amazing. He remembered his dad freaking out when he'd had to tie a bib around Sammy's neck and had done it too tight. It wasn't as though he'd done it to the point it constricted the then-toddler's airflow, but it had been enough to make John Winchester see visions of his youngest son turning blue or gasping for air. It had been an overreaction, but it was one of the earliest lessons Dean got in the importance of keeping Sammy safe.
"I do not understand how you are related to the back end of a shoe," Cas said, looking as confused as ever.
"It's a saying, Cas," Dean said as he gave a quick glance to the menu while the angel pulled out a small container of what looked like thin paste.
"I purchased the cereal for Johnny, as the woman at the diner suggested," the angel said. Dean couldn't fight the instinctual curling of his lip at the stuff. He didn't care if Johnny needed to see the action of eating imitated or not, he sure as hell wasn't putting that in his own mouth.
He looked to the baby. "I'm very, very sorry, kid." Johnny just looked at him with those big green eyes. He was so innocent and so trusting.
And they were going to feed him paste.
"Select something off the menu for me," Cas said as he began stirring the white substance with a small purple spoon. "I have no preference."
It was Cas's way of saying, "I have no idea what to pick, nor do I need to eat it, so come up with something that won't make me look like a freak in front of this woman."
This place had some sort of "Best of Italy" lunch special for two. That'd work. And if Dean ate a little more than his share, no problem.
He glanced up to see Johnny giving Cas the most pathetic look. He was eating the odd cereal, but he looked almost betrayed. Dean felt the sudden need to apologize to Johnny for a second time. Instead, he reached a hand up to rub at at the small shoulder. He felt like a coach trying to encourage a player to push through it. And, he supposed, in a way he was.
"I swear the solid stuff gets so much better," he said as he watched the baby eat. "Just wait til you get to try a bacon cheeseburger. And pie. You'll love pie."
#
Bobby knew that neither of the boys thought much of his skills with the ladies. Most of the time, he didn't think much of them, himself. But on occasion, when he just knew that someone was interested and the odds of having to interact with them again was limited, Bobby managed to be downright charming.
"Hello again, Louise."
"Well, Officer Jones--"
"Call me Bobby," he told her.
"Bobby," she repeated. "Not that I'm not very glad to see you, but what brings you back so soon?"
"I needed to see the doctor again," he told her as he leaned against the counter to smile down at the seated woman. "Though coming back isn't without its perks."
The doctor stepped out from the filing area. "Hello again Officer Jones. Is there a problem?" She looked down at Louise. "You gave him all of the files he needed on Bright Eyes, right?" The younger woman tucked her long black hair behind her ear as she readjusted the position of the files in her arms.
"Sure did," Louise replied with a grin up at Bobby.
"Bright Eyes isn't the problem. We actually had a question about Mrs. Butler's dog and a Pomeranian you inspected for the animal shelter." The hunter watched the vet for any tells, anything to indicate she was preparing to tell a lie. She looked momentarily confused and then moved to the computer beside Louise. "I treated Jasmine, Mrs. Butler's Pom. And I remember there being a Pomeranian when the office did our routine checks on the shelter's animals." She began scanning through the computer. "Let's see, I saw a good, old-fashioned mutt, a boutique mutt..." She gave Bobby a smirk. "A schnoodle, they called it." The attractive young woman gave a roll of her eyes before resuming her reading. "Two pit bulls, another mutt. ... Here's your Pomeranian."
"You inspected it?"
"No. Ronald did. He's been part of the practice for the last two years," she said. "He will be in tomorrow, but I have his reports here. He inspected the shelter dog and found it to be about five, no microchip or sign there had been one... Female though. Like Mrs. Butler's, but her dog was slow. We were medicating her with pain killers to help with her joints."
Dr. Roth stood up straight and put a hand on Louise's shoulder. "Could you get those for Officer Jones? I have to see to Mrs. Edward's cat."
"Finally having to put the poor thing down?" Louise asked, and received a nod from the doctor.
"I hope that helps, Officer," the vet said before disappearing to the back once again.
Bobby hoped it did, too.