Big Bang Fic: The Leap Home, Part 2
The Leap Home. Part 2.
Noel hopes that these two take their sweet ass time choosing whatever it is they’re going to buy, because the view from where he’s standing is the best he’s had all day.
He’s especially pleased when the taller one leans over one of the cases to take a closer view of the jewelry, and Noel gets a better view of his ass. The one downside to running an antiques store is the lack of young, hot visitors - most of Noel’s patrons do tend to be fifty or over - so he intends on making the most of these two.
Their body language mirrors each other, the way couples do when they’ve been together a long time. There’s something about them that doesn’t quite say ‘couple’ although Noel can't put his finger on it.
He’s far too busy thinking of the other places he wishes he could be putting his finger. If he’s given the opportunity. He preens himself a little when they turn and start to walk toward him. They’re both younger than him, though the older one not by much. They really are quite divine, all manly and rugged. They must work out quite seriously. They’re the type to go running or do push-ups elbow deep in mud too, not the type to work out in a well-lit gym.
Noel allows the image of them both rolling around in mud to stay in his brain a moment or two longer, then puts on his most businesslike smile. Or the most businesslike his smile ever gets anyway.
“Hello. Out for an afternoon of antiquing? Seen anything you like?” Noel allows an extra purr on the end of his sentence. The taller guy’s eyes widen as if he’s only slowly realizing what Noel’s hinting at. The other guy gives a short laugh.
“We’re looking for something specific, actually.”
“Oh yes?”
“Yeah, a ring? Ruby, Victorian, probably been sold by the family of a dead relative?”
“Oh, I’ve got that. Been sold and re-sold several times. Bad luck for whoever buys it, it seems, good luck for me!” Noel laughs and reaches for his key, unlocking the glass cabinet next to the register. “This one?”
Noel rests the tray of ruby rings on the table and points toward the one with the largest stone.
The tall guy pulls a picture out of his pocket and lies it on the desk next to the ring. It’s clearly the same one. “That’s it, right Dean?”
“Yeah,” Dean says. “How much is it?”
“Six hundred dollars.”
“How much?” Dean gives a low whistle, then picks up the ring and firmly pushes it back into place.
“We can’t pay that much.” They then seem to go into a long conversation that consists entirely of nods and shakes of the head and squinty eyes. They both give a final firm nod. “Thanks for your time,” the taller one says.
Very weird, Noel thinks, as they walk toward the door and have a frantic conversation next to it. He catches, “come back later,” and then, “could just appeal to his better instincts,” and “how much did’ya win last night?” He wonders which of these routes they are going to go down.
He starts to hope it’s paying him money, then gets distracted by thoughts of where else they might go down. He’s in a very pleasant daydream when they walk back up to him.
“Four hundred, cash, we’ll forget about the chip on the side of it.” Dean follows this with the kind of smile that would have most people taking their clothes off before the words were out.
Noel would argue, but then the taller one gives an anxious, taut smile. Noel needs that money for rent. Noel can’t give discounts to every hot guy who asks for it.
Noel can tell that these two really need this ring, for whatever reason. It’s in the identical concerned stare they’re both giving him. It’s in the exhausted set of their shoulders.
Noel never could say no to a worthy cause. “Okay.”
The panic starts when they walk toward the door. It’s money, sure, but is it enough? Macreadie will be around later and Noel has to have a thousand to give him, or it’s his kneecaps for his trouble. Worse still - his face.
He wishes he could spend four hundred on a ring like that handsome pair, and a tight ball of worry constricts his entire body, and he wonders where all the oxygen in the room went, where all the oxygen in the world went. Everything goes whiter than he’s ever seen, and he’s not seeing it, he is it. Noel can’t describe it, and doesn’t have time to think about it, because then everything’s dark, and he’s flicking his eyes open and staring straight up into the tall guy’s crotch.
This is kind of how Noel imagined waking up in heaven to be, only everyone would be naked.
“What the hell happened Dean?”
“I’m fucking well over here, that’s what happened,” a voice answers him. “I’ve switched again. This time with- what’s your name, dude?”
Noel sits up, and when he stares down at a pair of too-baggy, ripped jeans with a very suspicious stain on the hem - and not a fun one - he realizes they’re talking to him. “Noel, I’m Noel.”
*
They insist that he close up shop but Noel tells them nobody will be coming in anyway. They trip over each other, finishing each other’s sentences as they explain how his soul is in Dean’s body and Dean’s soul is in his body, and how he doesn’t need to worry. 'Cause sure, waking up in some else’s body is nothing to worry about.
The tall hot guy with the sad eyes is apparently called Sam and he takes pains to repeat - several times - that the last time it barely lasted a day before Dean was back to normal. Noel wonders who he’s trying to convince.
Noel barely listens to any of it. It figures that this is how his day would go. “Did you do it with drugs?” He interrupts some babbling about Dean’s soul not wanting to stay put. “Is that how?”
“Dude, we did not drug you.” Noel watches as Dean pulls uncomfortably at his suit. “Do you have to wear this?”
“Goes with the antique shop front. People take me more seriously. Clothes sell it.” Noel itches to reach out and stop Dean from wrinkling the edges. “If you didn’t drug me how did it happen?”
“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you,” Sam’s voice raises a couple of pitches. “It’s some kind of supernatural spell.”
“Sam here might have another fine spell suggestion to fix it that involves us dancing around naked.” Dean crumples the lapel completely in his hand.
“It seemed a good idea at the time.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me now.” Noel jokingly reaches for the bottom of the shirt he’s wearing - an ugly one, in Noel’s opinion, but this guy doesn’t have to worry about what he wears. He’s the kind of guy who’d wear a sack and pull it off.
Dean laughs. “I bet.”
“You assumed I was gay ‘cause I run an antiques store?” It comes out in a more biting tone than Noel would usually use. He blames being in this body. It’s itchy, he wants to shed it and crawl as far away from it as he can.
“I assumed you were ‘cause you were checking us both out the minute we walked in,” Dean says. “I don’t blame you, just look at this fine-”
“Dean, can we focus please?” Sam taps his bag firmly. “There might be some other spell to try. Rather than just sitting it out. I’ll get my computer.” Sam sounds anxious, and it’s a tone that sits comfortably on him, like it’s his default setting.
“This is stressing you both out.” Noel can’t help but want to fix it for them, then he kicks himself. He can’t allow any feeling bad for the crazy people that put him into the wrong body.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Dean says, but he gives a grin too. “We want to fix it.”
“You guys deal with this kind of thing a lot don’t you?” That’s mind-boggling in itself, that this is their ordinary. “I can tell. You’re not as freaked as you should be.”
“Neither are you,” Dean says. “We’ve seen all kinds of crap. You? This must be rocking your world view.”
“I’ve other things to worry about,” Noel says, absently.
“Yeah?” Sam comes over. “Dean, we can’t forget the ring ritual.”
“What’s up with the ring?” Noel’s distracted by the bell on the door going. A single man walks in, broad-shouldered, well dressed, taut arms. “What is this, hot guy day?” Noel murmurs. “Can I help you?”
The guy checks him up and down and man, that’s a reception Noel wouldn’t mind getting more often. He has to give Dean props, he’s very toned in all the right places. “Sure you can. I need a side table. And maybe a phone number.”
“My day couldn’t get any weirder.” Dean’s voice loudly interrupts Noel’s flirting.
Noel sells the guy the side table. Taking him home in some other guy’s body is a bit too kinky. Noel’s not as kinky as his chat-up lines make out. It’s another hundred bucks in the fund.
“You’re relieved,” Sam says.
“Yeah. I kind of need to pay back someone some money.” Noel may as well be honest with them. “Every little bit counts, right?”
“Right.” Sam folds his legs awkwardly onto the stool behind the counter. “You got wi-fi in here?”
“Of course. Got to entertain myself during the day.” Noel stiffens, because one of Macreadie’s men is hanging around outside, staring in, checking out who Noel’s got as company. “You’re gonna have to pretend to be me.”
“Sure.” Dean pulls at the suit again, but Noel’s too stressed to stop him. “What do I do?”
“Agree to whatever he says,” Noel replies.
*
Noel should have been able to guess, from the scars he can see on the body he’s wearing, and the firm set of the shoulders Dean’s giving the body he’s wearing, that Dean didn’t do well with agreeing with people.
Macreadie’s man - Todd or Tom or Thug or something, Noel forgets - walks in and asks for a, “Word. Outside.”
“You can have more than one. Inside.” Dean shrugs. “Anything you say you can say in front of my people.”
“We need the latest money. Today.” Thug juts his chin out. “I don’t want to have to get nasty.”
“Neither do I.” Dean manages to put an undercurrent into the words than Noel could never manage. Noel is actually a little bit scared of himself.
“Hand over the money and there won’t be any trouble.”
“There’s about half, in the cash register, I think. Right, Noel?” Noel interjects. He goes toward the cash register but Sam’s large hand slams onto it, stopping him from opening it.
“I don’t think there’ll be any trouble.” Sam seems every inch his height, and very imposing, rather than hot. They both seem scary. It’s strange how the switch happens; they arm up against a threat, animals changing color or raising their hackles, moving into defensive postures.
“Cause trouble when your friends are here, I’ll come back when they aren’t.” Thug actually punches one hand into another, and even though Noel’s sure he copies these moves off bad movies, it doesn’t make them any the less frightening.
“How much does h--do I owe?” Dean asks. “Enough for me to win in a poker game?”
Thug looks nonplussed. Actually, Noel would be surprised if Thug knows the word nonplussed, but the expression’s close enough. “You know Macreadie runs a game at the Lily on a Saturday. You didn’t want to get into debt that way, you said.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I’ll be there tonight. What’s the buy in?”
“Five hundred,” Thug says. “I’ll tell him to expect you.”
Noel wants to shout at them both as soon as Thug’s gone but Dean turns Noel’s face into a beautiful smile that leaves the words hanging on the edge of his tongue. Noel’s gonna copy that smile next time he’s out. Or maybe he won’t be able to, maybe that’s Dean’s soul he sees shining out of his own face. “No need to thank me.” Noel doesn’t have the heart to say anything.
“How much do you owe those guys?” Sam’s voice is back to being low and concerned. The transition back to being friend happened so immediately, Noel didn’t notice it. He resolves never to get on their bad side.
“I borrowed ten grand. To buy stock for the business. The bank wouldn’t loan me any more and my friend…” Noel swallows. “I wish I hadn’t listened to him and borrowed anything. I’ve paid back four. It’s a thou a week and this week…” Noel points wildly around the room. “Business has been slow. I’m finding it hard, keeping the accounts. I just want to buy and sell things, not-” He runs his hand over the beautiful table he picked up in New York. This isn’t anything to do with them. Just because he’s wearing one of their bodies doesn’t mean he’s entitled to trouble them with the woes he carries around in his.
“I can win you that money, easy,” Dean says. “With a five hundred dollar stake and those kind of idiots?”
“It’s twelve times the stake, Dean,” Sam says, busying himself on google.
“I can do math Sam. Find the spell for the goddamn ring so we can get one problem out of the way.”
“What’s up with the ring?” Noel asks.
“It’s cursed.” Dean picks it up and stares at it closely.
Noel backs away from it pretty quickly. “That’s why it kept coming back to me? You have to do a spell to stop it being cursed?”
“Yes, and yes,” Sam says. “I found it earlier. It’s an easy job. For us anyway.” Noel doesn’t want to wonder what a big job for them would be.
“Then we can get onto trying to switch us back.” Dean grins.
“Then we can talk about your clothes.” Noel’s rewarded with a smile from both of them. Their so serious expressions break into softer ones. They’d be fun to hang out with, in a non-supernatural emergency situation. “I mean, Sam, how many layers do you have on? Five? Are you storing nuts under there for winter? And the hoodie, I don’t know what you’re thinking, I really don’t. And as for you Dean, I’m not going to ask what the stain at the bottom of this is, but-”
“It’s demon spew,” Dean says. “Can’t get it out.”
Noel wishes he’d never asked.
*
Noel didn’t think he and Sam would be allowed to watch, but Sam towers over the thug trying to stop them and he nods them toward the back. There are no seats, and Noel fails to stand still as the game gets under way. He hopes Dean is as good as he says he is.
Dean starts the game with a wink at Noel and a nod at Sam that clearly conveys some message Sam understands because Sam unfolds his arms and hooks his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans. He grins at Noel. “Just watch him work. He’s done this a million times.” Sam’s voice is low and reassuring, and the very tone of it soothes Noel’s nerves.
Dean then loses two hands and most of his money, and Noel’s nerves go right back on edge again. He trusts that Dean’s plan involves a big finish. Noel’s hands are sweaty and he starts to hiccup. He doesn’t want to owe even more money.
“It’s okay,” Sam whispers, “Dean knows what he’s doing.”
“Why do you have that quaver in your voice then?” Noel snaps. He crosses his arms and glares when a thug casts him a dirty look. To his surprise the thug backs off, stepping toward the table and away from where Sam and Noel are standing. Noel supposes it’s this body - he must seem threatening, with its bulging muscles and scars.
“I don’t,” Sam says.
Noel stares at him. Sam’s got the same tense set to his shoulders. The same worried undertone is there, underscoring everything Sam does. Maybe he's nervous about more than the game.
“Man, it’s weird that I can tell it’s not Dean in there.” Sam folds his hands into the edges of his coat. “You look at me differently.”
“I guess that’s what they mean by a person's soul,” Noel says.
“I guess.” Sam swallows.
Noel gets the distinct impression Sam wants to share something, but is too nervous to say it. He gives his best sympathetic gaze, and throws in a light touch on Sam’s arm for good measure. “You guess something else too?”
“Only that…Dean’s not himself. Since he…he’s not been the same.” It falls out of Sam in a rush, as if he needs to say it, and this strange ear in a familiar body is the perfect excuse. “And I don’t know if that’s the soul stuff or something he’s not telling me.”
“Where’s he been? Why’s he different?”
“He went away. And I know he had a hard time there.” Sam’s voice cracks on hard time. It’s obviously a massive understatement. What the fuck are these two into? “And he won’t talk about it. He pretends everything’s fine but he eats like a normal person and he has one or two drinks, then wants to sleep, and he flirts with people but his heart’s not in it - he’s not himself.”
“Man, the normal Dean sounds like my kind of guy.” Noel’s rewarded with a smile from Sam. Sam wears smiles well. Noel wishes he could see them more.
“I don’t think it’s the soul thing.”
“You think it’s some kind of stress he’s not telling you about?” Noel nods. “But dude, not being in the right body, that’s pretty disconnecting. I just gave that guy a look I never would as myself. I don’t know how to be. Or who to be.”
“Maybe.” The smile vanishes, indicating the subject is over. “But I’m sure Dean can still win a poker game. He’s been playing since-” Sam wrinkles up his face into an expression Noel can only describe as adorably cute. “As long as I can remember.”
“Let’s hope so,” Noel murmurs.
Dean pulls funny expressions as he plays, twisting Noel’s face into serious faces, then huge grins, then pretend pouts. Noel isn’t sure if Dean usually makes these faces, or if he’s having trouble with his usual poker face.
Dean wins five and a half grand, and at the end of the match he walks straight up to Macreadie. “This makes us even,” Dean says in a low voice, pushing it toward him. Noel watches him fumble in his pocket and hand over some of his own cash.
“It’s four hundred short,” Macreadie says. “Then there’s the interest.”
“There’s no interest. And the four hundred will come whenever I have it. In the meantime, you will leave me alone.” Dean’s making Noel’s voice sharp and brittle, each syllable slicing further through the tension in the room. Noel would take that threat seriously.
Macreadie’s grin should come with its own warning sign. “We’ll see.”
*
“You were amazing,” Noel tells Dean as soon as they’re out the door.
“I usually am,” Dean says.
“You were great, Dean,” Sam says in a soft voice. Noel watches Dean soften under Sam’s praise, then tense up as he tries not to show it. The two of them walk along, even with Dean in the wrong body, as if connected by invisible bonds, making them turn corners together, or stop and wait for the other with no question.
They peek at each other with worried eyes when they know the other isn’t paying attention, and Noel isn’t sure what that’s about.
“I’ll hunt for a spell again,” Sam says when they reach Noel’s house. “There must be a way to fix it. Bobby’s getting on it too.”
“Bobby?”
“A friend who knows lots of shit,” Dean says. They wait at the door while Noel unlocks it.
“There’s a spare room at the back if you don’t want to pay for a motel.” Noel waves toward it, although there’s no question about which room he means. “I have a small room upstairs but there’s a couch and bit of space in there.”
Sam and Dean exchange glances. “May as well stay near my body,” Dean says. “Make sure he doesn’t take it to Yemen.” He nudges Noel in the ribs.
Sam settles next to his laptop and starts another search. He’s obviously not going to sleep tonight, or ever again, until he fixes it. Sam seems to take responsibility for it on his shoulders.
Dean opens a beer and settles in opposite Sam. Noel starts his nightly ritual of putting cloths over the delicate items, of gazing at his favorite ones and remembering buying them. Tonight, it gives little solace. Noel’s distracted by thoughts of how strange it’s gonna be washing someone else’s body in the morning.
There’s a rattle at the door and Macreadie and his chief thug - Paul, Noel’s certain this one is called - are standing there. Macreadie’s face twists into an evil smile. He’s unconcerned that for all intents and purposes, he’s outnumbered.
Sam and Dean are standing in front of Noel before he can move toward the door. “We’ll deal with this,” Sam says grimly.
“They’ll…they’ll hurt you,” Noel says. “They mean business.”
“So do we.” The words drop from Dean, stones tumbling to the ground.
Noel bites his lip and stops himself telling Dean to watch out for his face. He figures this is not the right moment.
Macreadie smashes the door in. “Think you’re so smart do you Noel? Coming and taking my money and paying me back with it. I’m here to remind you that interest is interest.”
“We’re here to tell you to leave Noel alone,” Sam says.
“Don’t come here again.” Dean steps forward and everything goes into slow motion. Noel watches Paul make a move on Dean, and Dean form a fist and smash it into Paul’s nose. Sam deflects Macreadie’s blow with ease.
Then it gets a bit ugly, and Paul gives Dean a punch to the head that’s got to leave Dean seeing stars. Dean misses a punch to Paul’s face, connecting only loosely with his ear, and cursing loudly. Sam has to cover him, and that means Macreadie starts to gain ground.
Noel isn’t sure what to do. But he’s sure he shouldn’t stand there doing nothing, when he has a strong body that he’s in, and two strangers defending him. So he wades in. He knees Paul in the groin and elbows Macreadie in the face. It’s hard, controlling someone’s body, he overshoots everything by a little bit, and hits harder or softer than he intended.
Noel does manage to hold Paul down so Dean can twist his arms behind his back, then he helps Sam subdue Macreadie. Soon they’re both roughly tied to Noel’s precious chairs, brought back from Detroit.
Noel fumbles among the rings and draws out two or three he knows are worth more than two hundred each. “These make up the difference,” he says. It kills him to give them to someone who doesn’t appreciate them, to give away items he knows he should keep for profit. But he wants Macreadie out of his life. He’s been too lax, thinking he’d find the money, thinking it wouldn’t turn nasty.
If Dean can use Noel’s body, and put up a pretty impressive fight, Noel can use Dean’s to get rid of these men. “I think you should leave Noel alone and not come back. Here’s the rest of your money - more than enough. The only interest you’ll be getting is on those bruises. You hear?”
Noel can see Sam’s surprise out of the corner of his eye.
Dean clears his throat and adds a, “Get out!” It comes out as a growl but Noel supposes those are the words Dean means.
Macreadie takes the rings, and Noel unties them both. He doesn’t believe that they won’t come back. He doesn’t believe that he threatened them, help fight them. Somehow, Sam and Dean made that possible.
Noel sleeps easily that night for the first time in weeks. When he wakes Sam is sitting at the computer in the same position he left him in. Dean is leaning over the counter blearily sipping at a coffee. There are a few books and pieces of paper between them, all placed neatly in what can only be a specific order. “Did either of you sleep?”
“Some.” Dean takes another gulp of coffee.
“No.” Sam rubs his temple then returns to scrolling down a page of symbols that Noel has never seen before.
Noel peers closer at the papers in front of Sam and realizes they’re his accounts books. Or rather, the books he bought to do them. Which up until this morning, had been empty, but now have figures written in. “What’s this?”
“I sorted your receipts,” Sam says. “I needed a break.”
“I was filling this in.” Dean jabs at the far column of the book. “I’m not sure what’s supposed to go in it but…”
“We made a start.”
“Thanks.” Noel reads the row of hastily written in figures. “I just…”
“What?” Sam pushes his computer away. “There are a couple of spells we can try but…”
“Nothing we think will work,” Dean finishes. “You just what?”
“I don’t know if I can do this. The business side,” Noel waves his hand. “I suck at it.”
“That’s why you hire these people called accountants, and pay them a lot of money to do your books for you.” Sam pushes a piece of paper with some phone numbers on it toward Noel. A list of accountants.
“Soon as we swap back,” Dean says. “We’ve now been swapped longer than me and Bobby, right Sam?”
“Yeah. Does this mean it’s getting worse? What the…hell is causing this?”
“That’s your area,” Noel picks up the book and studies the figures closely. He’s in debt, of course, but nothing he can’t get out of. Thanks to these two, he’s rid of Macreadie, and he actually has accounts books. It’s possible for him to run this business. Maybe he won’t be a complete failure. It’s a long time since he’s thought that, since he’s believed that possible, and the accompanying rush of relief is so strong, it’s a physical pain in his chest. Then everything starts to glow at the edges, and there’s the whiteness again, the glorious bright light that hugs Noel tight within it.
Then he’s back in his own body, and back to admiring Sam and Dean’s again.
“We’re fixed. How did you do that, Sammy?” Dean pats his own chest.
“I don’t… I didn’t.” Sam scratches his head. His head whips from one to the other of them.
“I was relieved,” Noel says. “I felt like I could cope, and that’s what made me go back. I mean… I think.”
“You mean, you did this?” Dean frowns. He rubs his hands down his body and Noel watches them with pleasure. “I don’t get it.”
“No. It has to do with Dean.” Sam closes his laptop. “It’s Dean’s soul that caused it. Although Bobby said the same thing, didn’t he?”
Dean jerks his head up and down. “Yes. Definitely.”
“Maybe I had to put it right. I’m just telling you what I felt.” Noel holds his palms up into the air. “I think you helped me, and then I leapt back.”
“Leapt back? So this is a Quantum Leap situation now?” Dean frowns. “Man I always thought I’d be the Al in that scenario, he was much cooler.”
“Another hot Sam in that show,” Noel says. “Sounds good to me.”
“I’m not convinced. I don’t see-” Sam loses the rest of his sentence, somewhere.
Dean thumps his arm. “So much for naked spells.”
“Try it next time and see,” Noel suggests. “And in the meantime, you two lighten up. You look like you’ve been to your own funerals.”
They both give a strange laugh that Noel doesn’t understand.
***
Part 3 - Ethan
Noel hopes that these two take their sweet ass time choosing whatever it is they’re going to buy, because the view from where he’s standing is the best he’s had all day.
He’s especially pleased when the taller one leans over one of the cases to take a closer view of the jewelry, and Noel gets a better view of his ass. The one downside to running an antiques store is the lack of young, hot visitors - most of Noel’s patrons do tend to be fifty or over - so he intends on making the most of these two.
Their body language mirrors each other, the way couples do when they’ve been together a long time. There’s something about them that doesn’t quite say ‘couple’ although Noel can't put his finger on it.
He’s far too busy thinking of the other places he wishes he could be putting his finger. If he’s given the opportunity. He preens himself a little when they turn and start to walk toward him. They’re both younger than him, though the older one not by much. They really are quite divine, all manly and rugged. They must work out quite seriously. They’re the type to go running or do push-ups elbow deep in mud too, not the type to work out in a well-lit gym.
Noel allows the image of them both rolling around in mud to stay in his brain a moment or two longer, then puts on his most businesslike smile. Or the most businesslike his smile ever gets anyway.
“Hello. Out for an afternoon of antiquing? Seen anything you like?” Noel allows an extra purr on the end of his sentence. The taller guy’s eyes widen as if he’s only slowly realizing what Noel’s hinting at. The other guy gives a short laugh.
“We’re looking for something specific, actually.”
“Oh yes?”
“Yeah, a ring? Ruby, Victorian, probably been sold by the family of a dead relative?”
“Oh, I’ve got that. Been sold and re-sold several times. Bad luck for whoever buys it, it seems, good luck for me!” Noel laughs and reaches for his key, unlocking the glass cabinet next to the register. “This one?”
Noel rests the tray of ruby rings on the table and points toward the one with the largest stone.
The tall guy pulls a picture out of his pocket and lies it on the desk next to the ring. It’s clearly the same one. “That’s it, right Dean?”
“Yeah,” Dean says. “How much is it?”
“Six hundred dollars.”
“How much?” Dean gives a low whistle, then picks up the ring and firmly pushes it back into place.
“We can’t pay that much.” They then seem to go into a long conversation that consists entirely of nods and shakes of the head and squinty eyes. They both give a final firm nod. “Thanks for your time,” the taller one says.
Very weird, Noel thinks, as they walk toward the door and have a frantic conversation next to it. He catches, “come back later,” and then, “could just appeal to his better instincts,” and “how much did’ya win last night?” He wonders which of these routes they are going to go down.
He starts to hope it’s paying him money, then gets distracted by thoughts of where else they might go down. He’s in a very pleasant daydream when they walk back up to him.
“Four hundred, cash, we’ll forget about the chip on the side of it.” Dean follows this with the kind of smile that would have most people taking their clothes off before the words were out.
Noel would argue, but then the taller one gives an anxious, taut smile. Noel needs that money for rent. Noel can’t give discounts to every hot guy who asks for it.
Noel can tell that these two really need this ring, for whatever reason. It’s in the identical concerned stare they’re both giving him. It’s in the exhausted set of their shoulders.
Noel never could say no to a worthy cause. “Okay.”
The panic starts when they walk toward the door. It’s money, sure, but is it enough? Macreadie will be around later and Noel has to have a thousand to give him, or it’s his kneecaps for his trouble. Worse still - his face.
He wishes he could spend four hundred on a ring like that handsome pair, and a tight ball of worry constricts his entire body, and he wonders where all the oxygen in the room went, where all the oxygen in the world went. Everything goes whiter than he’s ever seen, and he’s not seeing it, he is it. Noel can’t describe it, and doesn’t have time to think about it, because then everything’s dark, and he’s flicking his eyes open and staring straight up into the tall guy’s crotch.
This is kind of how Noel imagined waking up in heaven to be, only everyone would be naked.
“What the hell happened Dean?”
“I’m fucking well over here, that’s what happened,” a voice answers him. “I’ve switched again. This time with- what’s your name, dude?”
Noel sits up, and when he stares down at a pair of too-baggy, ripped jeans with a very suspicious stain on the hem - and not a fun one - he realizes they’re talking to him. “Noel, I’m Noel.”
*
They insist that he close up shop but Noel tells them nobody will be coming in anyway. They trip over each other, finishing each other’s sentences as they explain how his soul is in Dean’s body and Dean’s soul is in his body, and how he doesn’t need to worry. 'Cause sure, waking up in some else’s body is nothing to worry about.
The tall hot guy with the sad eyes is apparently called Sam and he takes pains to repeat - several times - that the last time it barely lasted a day before Dean was back to normal. Noel wonders who he’s trying to convince.
Noel barely listens to any of it. It figures that this is how his day would go. “Did you do it with drugs?” He interrupts some babbling about Dean’s soul not wanting to stay put. “Is that how?”
“Dude, we did not drug you.” Noel watches as Dean pulls uncomfortably at his suit. “Do you have to wear this?”
“Goes with the antique shop front. People take me more seriously. Clothes sell it.” Noel itches to reach out and stop Dean from wrinkling the edges. “If you didn’t drug me how did it happen?”
“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you,” Sam’s voice raises a couple of pitches. “It’s some kind of supernatural spell.”
“Sam here might have another fine spell suggestion to fix it that involves us dancing around naked.” Dean crumples the lapel completely in his hand.
“It seemed a good idea at the time.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me now.” Noel jokingly reaches for the bottom of the shirt he’s wearing - an ugly one, in Noel’s opinion, but this guy doesn’t have to worry about what he wears. He’s the kind of guy who’d wear a sack and pull it off.
Dean laughs. “I bet.”
“You assumed I was gay ‘cause I run an antiques store?” It comes out in a more biting tone than Noel would usually use. He blames being in this body. It’s itchy, he wants to shed it and crawl as far away from it as he can.
“I assumed you were ‘cause you were checking us both out the minute we walked in,” Dean says. “I don’t blame you, just look at this fine-”
“Dean, can we focus please?” Sam taps his bag firmly. “There might be some other spell to try. Rather than just sitting it out. I’ll get my computer.” Sam sounds anxious, and it’s a tone that sits comfortably on him, like it’s his default setting.
“This is stressing you both out.” Noel can’t help but want to fix it for them, then he kicks himself. He can’t allow any feeling bad for the crazy people that put him into the wrong body.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Dean says, but he gives a grin too. “We want to fix it.”
“You guys deal with this kind of thing a lot don’t you?” That’s mind-boggling in itself, that this is their ordinary. “I can tell. You’re not as freaked as you should be.”
“Neither are you,” Dean says. “We’ve seen all kinds of crap. You? This must be rocking your world view.”
“I’ve other things to worry about,” Noel says, absently.
“Yeah?” Sam comes over. “Dean, we can’t forget the ring ritual.”
“What’s up with the ring?” Noel’s distracted by the bell on the door going. A single man walks in, broad-shouldered, well dressed, taut arms. “What is this, hot guy day?” Noel murmurs. “Can I help you?”
The guy checks him up and down and man, that’s a reception Noel wouldn’t mind getting more often. He has to give Dean props, he’s very toned in all the right places. “Sure you can. I need a side table. And maybe a phone number.”
“My day couldn’t get any weirder.” Dean’s voice loudly interrupts Noel’s flirting.
Noel sells the guy the side table. Taking him home in some other guy’s body is a bit too kinky. Noel’s not as kinky as his chat-up lines make out. It’s another hundred bucks in the fund.
“You’re relieved,” Sam says.
“Yeah. I kind of need to pay back someone some money.” Noel may as well be honest with them. “Every little bit counts, right?”
“Right.” Sam folds his legs awkwardly onto the stool behind the counter. “You got wi-fi in here?”
“Of course. Got to entertain myself during the day.” Noel stiffens, because one of Macreadie’s men is hanging around outside, staring in, checking out who Noel’s got as company. “You’re gonna have to pretend to be me.”
“Sure.” Dean pulls at the suit again, but Noel’s too stressed to stop him. “What do I do?”
“Agree to whatever he says,” Noel replies.
*
Noel should have been able to guess, from the scars he can see on the body he’s wearing, and the firm set of the shoulders Dean’s giving the body he’s wearing, that Dean didn’t do well with agreeing with people.
Macreadie’s man - Todd or Tom or Thug or something, Noel forgets - walks in and asks for a, “Word. Outside.”
“You can have more than one. Inside.” Dean shrugs. “Anything you say you can say in front of my people.”
“We need the latest money. Today.” Thug juts his chin out. “I don’t want to have to get nasty.”
“Neither do I.” Dean manages to put an undercurrent into the words than Noel could never manage. Noel is actually a little bit scared of himself.
“Hand over the money and there won’t be any trouble.”
“There’s about half, in the cash register, I think. Right, Noel?” Noel interjects. He goes toward the cash register but Sam’s large hand slams onto it, stopping him from opening it.
“I don’t think there’ll be any trouble.” Sam seems every inch his height, and very imposing, rather than hot. They both seem scary. It’s strange how the switch happens; they arm up against a threat, animals changing color or raising their hackles, moving into defensive postures.
“Cause trouble when your friends are here, I’ll come back when they aren’t.” Thug actually punches one hand into another, and even though Noel’s sure he copies these moves off bad movies, it doesn’t make them any the less frightening.
“How much does h--do I owe?” Dean asks. “Enough for me to win in a poker game?”
Thug looks nonplussed. Actually, Noel would be surprised if Thug knows the word nonplussed, but the expression’s close enough. “You know Macreadie runs a game at the Lily on a Saturday. You didn’t want to get into debt that way, you said.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I’ll be there tonight. What’s the buy in?”
“Five hundred,” Thug says. “I’ll tell him to expect you.”
Noel wants to shout at them both as soon as Thug’s gone but Dean turns Noel’s face into a beautiful smile that leaves the words hanging on the edge of his tongue. Noel’s gonna copy that smile next time he’s out. Or maybe he won’t be able to, maybe that’s Dean’s soul he sees shining out of his own face. “No need to thank me.” Noel doesn’t have the heart to say anything.
“How much do you owe those guys?” Sam’s voice is back to being low and concerned. The transition back to being friend happened so immediately, Noel didn’t notice it. He resolves never to get on their bad side.
“I borrowed ten grand. To buy stock for the business. The bank wouldn’t loan me any more and my friend…” Noel swallows. “I wish I hadn’t listened to him and borrowed anything. I’ve paid back four. It’s a thou a week and this week…” Noel points wildly around the room. “Business has been slow. I’m finding it hard, keeping the accounts. I just want to buy and sell things, not-” He runs his hand over the beautiful table he picked up in New York. This isn’t anything to do with them. Just because he’s wearing one of their bodies doesn’t mean he’s entitled to trouble them with the woes he carries around in his.
“I can win you that money, easy,” Dean says. “With a five hundred dollar stake and those kind of idiots?”
“It’s twelve times the stake, Dean,” Sam says, busying himself on google.
“I can do math Sam. Find the spell for the goddamn ring so we can get one problem out of the way.”
“What’s up with the ring?” Noel asks.
“It’s cursed.” Dean picks it up and stares at it closely.
Noel backs away from it pretty quickly. “That’s why it kept coming back to me? You have to do a spell to stop it being cursed?”
“Yes, and yes,” Sam says. “I found it earlier. It’s an easy job. For us anyway.” Noel doesn’t want to wonder what a big job for them would be.
“Then we can get onto trying to switch us back.” Dean grins.
“Then we can talk about your clothes.” Noel’s rewarded with a smile from both of them. Their so serious expressions break into softer ones. They’d be fun to hang out with, in a non-supernatural emergency situation. “I mean, Sam, how many layers do you have on? Five? Are you storing nuts under there for winter? And the hoodie, I don’t know what you’re thinking, I really don’t. And as for you Dean, I’m not going to ask what the stain at the bottom of this is, but-”
“It’s demon spew,” Dean says. “Can’t get it out.”
Noel wishes he’d never asked.
*
Noel didn’t think he and Sam would be allowed to watch, but Sam towers over the thug trying to stop them and he nods them toward the back. There are no seats, and Noel fails to stand still as the game gets under way. He hopes Dean is as good as he says he is.
Dean starts the game with a wink at Noel and a nod at Sam that clearly conveys some message Sam understands because Sam unfolds his arms and hooks his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans. He grins at Noel. “Just watch him work. He’s done this a million times.” Sam’s voice is low and reassuring, and the very tone of it soothes Noel’s nerves.
Dean then loses two hands and most of his money, and Noel’s nerves go right back on edge again. He trusts that Dean’s plan involves a big finish. Noel’s hands are sweaty and he starts to hiccup. He doesn’t want to owe even more money.
“It’s okay,” Sam whispers, “Dean knows what he’s doing.”
“Why do you have that quaver in your voice then?” Noel snaps. He crosses his arms and glares when a thug casts him a dirty look. To his surprise the thug backs off, stepping toward the table and away from where Sam and Noel are standing. Noel supposes it’s this body - he must seem threatening, with its bulging muscles and scars.
“I don’t,” Sam says.
Noel stares at him. Sam’s got the same tense set to his shoulders. The same worried undertone is there, underscoring everything Sam does. Maybe he's nervous about more than the game.
“Man, it’s weird that I can tell it’s not Dean in there.” Sam folds his hands into the edges of his coat. “You look at me differently.”
“I guess that’s what they mean by a person's soul,” Noel says.
“I guess.” Sam swallows.
Noel gets the distinct impression Sam wants to share something, but is too nervous to say it. He gives his best sympathetic gaze, and throws in a light touch on Sam’s arm for good measure. “You guess something else too?”
“Only that…Dean’s not himself. Since he…he’s not been the same.” It falls out of Sam in a rush, as if he needs to say it, and this strange ear in a familiar body is the perfect excuse. “And I don’t know if that’s the soul stuff or something he’s not telling me.”
“Where’s he been? Why’s he different?”
“He went away. And I know he had a hard time there.” Sam’s voice cracks on hard time. It’s obviously a massive understatement. What the fuck are these two into? “And he won’t talk about it. He pretends everything’s fine but he eats like a normal person and he has one or two drinks, then wants to sleep, and he flirts with people but his heart’s not in it - he’s not himself.”
“Man, the normal Dean sounds like my kind of guy.” Noel’s rewarded with a smile from Sam. Sam wears smiles well. Noel wishes he could see them more.
“I don’t think it’s the soul thing.”
“You think it’s some kind of stress he’s not telling you about?” Noel nods. “But dude, not being in the right body, that’s pretty disconnecting. I just gave that guy a look I never would as myself. I don’t know how to be. Or who to be.”
“Maybe.” The smile vanishes, indicating the subject is over. “But I’m sure Dean can still win a poker game. He’s been playing since-” Sam wrinkles up his face into an expression Noel can only describe as adorably cute. “As long as I can remember.”
“Let’s hope so,” Noel murmurs.
Dean pulls funny expressions as he plays, twisting Noel’s face into serious faces, then huge grins, then pretend pouts. Noel isn’t sure if Dean usually makes these faces, or if he’s having trouble with his usual poker face.
Dean wins five and a half grand, and at the end of the match he walks straight up to Macreadie. “This makes us even,” Dean says in a low voice, pushing it toward him. Noel watches him fumble in his pocket and hand over some of his own cash.
“It’s four hundred short,” Macreadie says. “Then there’s the interest.”
“There’s no interest. And the four hundred will come whenever I have it. In the meantime, you will leave me alone.” Dean’s making Noel’s voice sharp and brittle, each syllable slicing further through the tension in the room. Noel would take that threat seriously.
Macreadie’s grin should come with its own warning sign. “We’ll see.”
*
“You were amazing,” Noel tells Dean as soon as they’re out the door.
“I usually am,” Dean says.
“You were great, Dean,” Sam says in a soft voice. Noel watches Dean soften under Sam’s praise, then tense up as he tries not to show it. The two of them walk along, even with Dean in the wrong body, as if connected by invisible bonds, making them turn corners together, or stop and wait for the other with no question.
They peek at each other with worried eyes when they know the other isn’t paying attention, and Noel isn’t sure what that’s about.
“I’ll hunt for a spell again,” Sam says when they reach Noel’s house. “There must be a way to fix it. Bobby’s getting on it too.”
“Bobby?”
“A friend who knows lots of shit,” Dean says. They wait at the door while Noel unlocks it.
“There’s a spare room at the back if you don’t want to pay for a motel.” Noel waves toward it, although there’s no question about which room he means. “I have a small room upstairs but there’s a couch and bit of space in there.”
Sam and Dean exchange glances. “May as well stay near my body,” Dean says. “Make sure he doesn’t take it to Yemen.” He nudges Noel in the ribs.
Sam settles next to his laptop and starts another search. He’s obviously not going to sleep tonight, or ever again, until he fixes it. Sam seems to take responsibility for it on his shoulders.
Dean opens a beer and settles in opposite Sam. Noel starts his nightly ritual of putting cloths over the delicate items, of gazing at his favorite ones and remembering buying them. Tonight, it gives little solace. Noel’s distracted by thoughts of how strange it’s gonna be washing someone else’s body in the morning.
There’s a rattle at the door and Macreadie and his chief thug - Paul, Noel’s certain this one is called - are standing there. Macreadie’s face twists into an evil smile. He’s unconcerned that for all intents and purposes, he’s outnumbered.
Sam and Dean are standing in front of Noel before he can move toward the door. “We’ll deal with this,” Sam says grimly.
“They’ll…they’ll hurt you,” Noel says. “They mean business.”
“So do we.” The words drop from Dean, stones tumbling to the ground.
Noel bites his lip and stops himself telling Dean to watch out for his face. He figures this is not the right moment.
Macreadie smashes the door in. “Think you’re so smart do you Noel? Coming and taking my money and paying me back with it. I’m here to remind you that interest is interest.”
“We’re here to tell you to leave Noel alone,” Sam says.
“Don’t come here again.” Dean steps forward and everything goes into slow motion. Noel watches Paul make a move on Dean, and Dean form a fist and smash it into Paul’s nose. Sam deflects Macreadie’s blow with ease.
Then it gets a bit ugly, and Paul gives Dean a punch to the head that’s got to leave Dean seeing stars. Dean misses a punch to Paul’s face, connecting only loosely with his ear, and cursing loudly. Sam has to cover him, and that means Macreadie starts to gain ground.
Noel isn’t sure what to do. But he’s sure he shouldn’t stand there doing nothing, when he has a strong body that he’s in, and two strangers defending him. So he wades in. He knees Paul in the groin and elbows Macreadie in the face. It’s hard, controlling someone’s body, he overshoots everything by a little bit, and hits harder or softer than he intended.
Noel does manage to hold Paul down so Dean can twist his arms behind his back, then he helps Sam subdue Macreadie. Soon they’re both roughly tied to Noel’s precious chairs, brought back from Detroit.
Noel fumbles among the rings and draws out two or three he knows are worth more than two hundred each. “These make up the difference,” he says. It kills him to give them to someone who doesn’t appreciate them, to give away items he knows he should keep for profit. But he wants Macreadie out of his life. He’s been too lax, thinking he’d find the money, thinking it wouldn’t turn nasty.
If Dean can use Noel’s body, and put up a pretty impressive fight, Noel can use Dean’s to get rid of these men. “I think you should leave Noel alone and not come back. Here’s the rest of your money - more than enough. The only interest you’ll be getting is on those bruises. You hear?”
Noel can see Sam’s surprise out of the corner of his eye.
Dean clears his throat and adds a, “Get out!” It comes out as a growl but Noel supposes those are the words Dean means.
Macreadie takes the rings, and Noel unties them both. He doesn’t believe that they won’t come back. He doesn’t believe that he threatened them, help fight them. Somehow, Sam and Dean made that possible.
Noel sleeps easily that night for the first time in weeks. When he wakes Sam is sitting at the computer in the same position he left him in. Dean is leaning over the counter blearily sipping at a coffee. There are a few books and pieces of paper between them, all placed neatly in what can only be a specific order. “Did either of you sleep?”
“Some.” Dean takes another gulp of coffee.
“No.” Sam rubs his temple then returns to scrolling down a page of symbols that Noel has never seen before.
Noel peers closer at the papers in front of Sam and realizes they’re his accounts books. Or rather, the books he bought to do them. Which up until this morning, had been empty, but now have figures written in. “What’s this?”
“I sorted your receipts,” Sam says. “I needed a break.”
“I was filling this in.” Dean jabs at the far column of the book. “I’m not sure what’s supposed to go in it but…”
“We made a start.”
“Thanks.” Noel reads the row of hastily written in figures. “I just…”
“What?” Sam pushes his computer away. “There are a couple of spells we can try but…”
“Nothing we think will work,” Dean finishes. “You just what?”
“I don’t know if I can do this. The business side,” Noel waves his hand. “I suck at it.”
“That’s why you hire these people called accountants, and pay them a lot of money to do your books for you.” Sam pushes a piece of paper with some phone numbers on it toward Noel. A list of accountants.
“Soon as we swap back,” Dean says. “We’ve now been swapped longer than me and Bobby, right Sam?”
“Yeah. Does this mean it’s getting worse? What the…hell is causing this?”
“That’s your area,” Noel picks up the book and studies the figures closely. He’s in debt, of course, but nothing he can’t get out of. Thanks to these two, he’s rid of Macreadie, and he actually has accounts books. It’s possible for him to run this business. Maybe he won’t be a complete failure. It’s a long time since he’s thought that, since he’s believed that possible, and the accompanying rush of relief is so strong, it’s a physical pain in his chest. Then everything starts to glow at the edges, and there’s the whiteness again, the glorious bright light that hugs Noel tight within it.
Then he’s back in his own body, and back to admiring Sam and Dean’s again.
“We’re fixed. How did you do that, Sammy?” Dean pats his own chest.
“I don’t… I didn’t.” Sam scratches his head. His head whips from one to the other of them.
“I was relieved,” Noel says. “I felt like I could cope, and that’s what made me go back. I mean… I think.”
“You mean, you did this?” Dean frowns. He rubs his hands down his body and Noel watches them with pleasure. “I don’t get it.”
“No. It has to do with Dean.” Sam closes his laptop. “It’s Dean’s soul that caused it. Although Bobby said the same thing, didn’t he?”
Dean jerks his head up and down. “Yes. Definitely.”
“Maybe I had to put it right. I’m just telling you what I felt.” Noel holds his palms up into the air. “I think you helped me, and then I leapt back.”
“Leapt back? So this is a Quantum Leap situation now?” Dean frowns. “Man I always thought I’d be the Al in that scenario, he was much cooler.”
“Another hot Sam in that show,” Noel says. “Sounds good to me.”
“I’m not convinced. I don’t see-” Sam loses the rest of his sentence, somewhere.
Dean thumps his arm. “So much for naked spells.”
“Try it next time and see,” Noel suggests. “And in the meantime, you two lighten up. You look like you’ve been to your own funerals.”
They both give a strange laugh that Noel doesn’t understand.
***
Part 3 - Ethan