The Angelic Company 1/2
Title: The Angelic Company
Rating: PG13
Pairings: Castiel/Dean, Gabriel/Sam
Characters: Castiel, Gabriel, Sam, Dean, Crowley, Chuck, Becky, Lucifer, Ruby
Word Count: 11K
Warnings: None
Summary: Sam preferred law over chocolates. Dean liked chocolate (especially chocolate pie) but was more comfortable with cars. But when John takes an impromptu vacation, they must take over the family business or risk losing it to the sleazy ice cream shop owner Lucifer.
A/N:This was written for the spn_reversebang 2011
Check out the amazing art and fanmix by
lonewined that this was inspired by!
John Winchester was the last person anyone would have expected to own a chocolate factory. Rough, tough, and constantly itching for action, he looked more the type to own a garage, or hunter’s lounge, or a bar. Hell, even a gas station was more likely career path.
Which made sense since opening a chocolate company had not been his idea to begin with. It was his wife Mary who had come up with that particular brainchild. She had even chosen the name: The Angelic Company, complete with a little chocolate angel which became the company's official logo. Mary loved chocolate. Milk, dark, semi-sweet, or bitter, it didn’t matter. If it was chocolate, then she absolutely adored it.
The company had started out as a last ditch effort to secure a source of income. John had been home from service in Vietnam for nearly year and had not managed to find a permanent job. Mary had been eight months pregnant, due any week. They were months behind on the mortgage. Their emergency funds were nearly out. Neither had any family they were willing to ask for help. In short, they were desperate.
Then Mary uncovered a few recipes for making chocolate amongst the junk left to her in the Campbell Family attic. And then her uncle turned up with an vacant little shop that he was selling cheap. Armed with a couple of community college business courses and a whole lot of desperation, the two dipped into the last of their funds and set out to make chocolate.
To this day, John has no idea how they actually managed it but slowly, a few people started buying their chocolate. And then more people started buying. And then, even more.
The day his first son, Dean Winchester, was born was also the day Angelic Company got its first big order. If John had to choose, then it was that order that decided that Angelic Company was no longer just a last ditch attempt to stay off the streets. It was a set deal. Four years later, when Sammy was born, Angelic Company was a proper little chocolate factory. Everything was perfect.
Then Mary died.
John dealt with the loss the only way he could. He threw himself into The Angelic Company. It became his obsession. Mary had loved the little factory and for her, he would make sure that the Angelic Company stayed in business for a long, long time.
Before he knew it, his kids were all grown up and the Angelic Company was a household name. Well, in most of the Midwest at least, and some parts of China. But they shipped chocolate all around the world and they had nearly a hundred different flavors. Not to mention that the little factory had expanded into several huge ones, though the main headquarters stayed in Lawrence, Kansas. It was everything Mary had dreamed of but never got to see.
Now however, John was ready to take a break. A nice long vacation, preferably someplace that allowed hunting. He figured he deserved it after devoting so many years to the company. Unfortunately, neither of his sons had much interest in taking over the family business.
Sam had made it clear very early on that he preferred law over chocolate which was unfortunate as the boy had a real head for business. On the other hand, Dean liked chocolate almost as much as Mary had and cared about the company almost as much as John did. A couple of years ago, John had been certain that he’d be able to pass AC onto Dean soon. Then Bobby went and landed himself in a wheelchair. Dean had headed over to South Dakota to help out at the garage until Bobby adjusted and had just ended up staying.
Nonetheless, John Winchester forked over nearly three decades of his life working at that damn factory. It was about time that he took some time off and he was going to get it even if he had to drag his sons back to the family business, kicking and screaming.
~~~
Sam Winchester sighed and glanced at the clock for what had to be at least the tenth time that evening. It was already well past eight and he still had three huge piles of paperwork to get through. Being a PA freaking sucked. The pay was horrible, the hours worse, and the workload was hellish.
This was not how Sam had imagined using his degree. Here he was, a college graduate with a law degree from Stanford, doing grunt work in a tiny local law office in Palo Alto. Not once had Sam thought that he would be sitting in an office at nine on a Friday night, trying not to stab himself with a pencil. It didn’t help that his co-workers were jackasses. They’d ditched him hours ago, claiming they had plans that they couldn’t get out of and thanking him for ‘offering’ to finish up. And Sam, like the softhearted pansy that his brother often accused him of being, hadn’t stopped them.
Sam tossed the pencil he’d been contemplating gouging himself with into a wastebasket. He wanted to quit. Hell, he would quit if he had any other options. It was probably a bit sad that after close to nine months job hunting, this was the best jig he could get. Sam had been working this job for close to three years now and he still hated it. He’d decided long ago that the second he got a better job offer, he was out of here. Sadly, that offer had yet to come.
Sam glanced at the clock again and then back at the stacks and reached a decision. Screw the work. He’d been here since eight in the freaking morning. He was going home. He’d deal with the consequences on Monday. Five minutes later he was out the door and down the street, arriving at the bus stop just in time to catch the late bus. He spent the ride marking up any job possible opportunities on the newspaper that he’d flinched from office.
Maybe what he needed was a break, Sam thought as he unlocked the door to his apartment. Nothing fancy, just a little time off so he could relax, sleep in for once, read that novel he’d been putting off for so long. He stepped inside the dark room, shrugging off his coat and wincing at how stiff the muscles around his shoulders were. Yeah, he really needed a little vac-
There was someone in his apartment.
Sam realized this just as the intruder came into view. Without a second thought, Sam lunged forward, his fist aimed at the burglar’s head. Thankfully, he hadn’t had a chance to turn on the light yet so he had an advantage over the intruder as it was his apartment and he’d pretty much memorized the layout long ago. Unfortunately, the dude still managed to dodge the punch. And he countered with a punch of his own, which Sam didn’t manage to back away from in time. No matter, he lunged forward again, this time using his momentum and his bigger build to send them both stumbling over the back of the couch. Sam aimed a kick at the guy’s family jewels on the way done, but it was dark, and somehow in the struggle, he ended up being pinned to the ground instead.
“Easy tiger.” The burglar drawled.
Sam froze. He knew that voice. “Dean?”
His older brother smirked down at him. “Dude, you suck. That was just way too easy.”
Sam gapped at him. “What the hell, Dean? You scared the crap out of me!”
Dean laughed. “Aww, did I scare the little lawyer?”
Ten seconds later, he was the one being pinned to the ground.
“Okay,” Dean said, more amused than annoyed. “Proved me wrong. You still got it.”
Sam rolled his eyes and got off his brother. “Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but what are you doing here?”
Dean took the offered hand and got up. “Dad’s gone.”
Sam waited for him to continue. When it become clear that he wasn‘t, he frowned. “What do you mean ‘gone’? Gone where?”
Dean shrugged. “No idea. All I know is that he took off somewhere a couple of weeks ago.”
“That can’t be all.” Sam turned on the light and waved at Dean to take a seat. “You could have told me this on the phone. No way you’d fly all the way to California to just tell me this.”
“Didn’t fly dude, took the Impala.”
“You drove all the way to California? From South Dakota?” Was his brother for real?
Dean shrugged, a smug smile on his face.
“How long did that take you? Why didn’t you just fly? Or better yet, call?” Sometimes, it seemed like his brother didn’t have an ounce of common sense in his body.
“Two words, dude. Road. Trip.”
Sam rolled his eyes as he walked over to the fridge to grab a couple of beers, he had a feeling he‘d be needing them. “Right. So what’s the real reason you’re here?”
Dean didn’t say anything for a moment. Sam glanced back over his shoulder to see him poking at the plastic fruit basket that Sam had no idea how he’d come by and had just dumped onto the dining table.
“Dean?” he prompted.
“I got a letter from Dad’s lawyer.” Dean told the apple.
“Why?” He tossed a beer at Dean, frowning. That was unusual. Why was Dad’s lawyer contacting Dean?
“Something about a will.”
Wait a minute, what? “I thought you said he was just on vacation?”
“I don’t know, man.” Dean retorted, exasperated. He finally turned away from the riveting fruit bowl to focus on Sam. “You’re the fancy mancy lawyer. You figure out why the hell dad’s lawyer wants to meet with us.”
Sam’s frown deepened. Dean was worried, that much was pretty obvious.
“Us? Why me too?” Sam knew he was dangerously close to outright whining but he couldn’t help. He was not going to just drop his life just because his dad decided to forgo his responsibilities, never mind the fact that he had already thinking of taking a break.
“The lawyer guy refuses to talk unless we’re both there.” Dean opened the beer and gulped some down. “Just a couple of days, two weeks tops. Think of is as a vacation. As soon as the lawyer tells us whatever the hell is going on with dad, you can come right back here.”
“Dean you’re crazy if you think I’m driving to Kansas with you. Hell, you’re crazy if you think I’m going back at all.”
“Come on Sammy.” Dean said. “It’s just a few days to see what the lawyer guy wants. You don’t have to stay.”
“Dean…” It was tempting, a trip back home might just be what he needed to get out of his current funk. But he was not about to let his dad push him around like he was a kid again.
“Think of it like a vacation. Hell, weren’t you telling me just last month how much you wished you could just take off for a week. Well, here’s your chance!” Dean looked at him expectantly.
Sam sighed heavily and reached a decision. “Right. Let’s go.”
Hopefully he would not end up regretting this.
~~~
By the end of the first day, Sam remembered why driving across country with Dean was never a good idea. His elder brother operated on the rule that “driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake whole” which wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t had the exact same tastes in music as Dad. Dean also stuck dirty spoons in Sam’s mouth when he was sleeping and took pictures and sent them to everyone they knew (aka Bobby who had not bothered to reply but still, it was embarrassing). But, worst of all was that he refused to admit that he was just as worried about the meeting with the lawyer as Sam was. Which meant that he spent the entire trip pretending not to be worried, snapping at Sam whenever he tried to bring it up, and then hitting as many bars as possible whenever they stopped for the night.
Needless to say Sam was ecstatic when they finally reached the Angelic Company.
By that point, both of them are too worked up at whatever the hell the lawyer wanted to bother checking into a motel for a quick shut eye. They headed straight for AC despite the fact that they’d been in the Impala for six hours straight and were both exhausted and probably reeked.
The Angelic Company was exactly how Sam remembered it being four year ago. It was still a large chocolate-brown, three story building. The only thing that marked the building as a chocolate factory was the sign declaring the name of the company, complete with the chocolate angel, just a couple yards from the front door.
“Man this place hasn’t changed a bit.” Dean said, echoing Sam’s thoughts as they got out of the Impala, a smile on his face. “Good old AC.”
“Yeah,” Sam said, with considerably less enthusiasm. “Good old AC.”
He could see Dean turn to frown at him from the corner of his eye, but he ignored him. Dean might have fond memories of this place, but at the moment, all Sam could remember was the burning desire to get out and see the world. Which turned out fucking great. He’d made it as far as California before ending up back here again.
“Come on,” he said, pushing away those thoughts. “Let’s go see Dad’s lawyer.” The “and then get out of here” was unsaid, but clear.
Dean clapped him on the back as he passed him. “Dude, quit it with the PMSing. You‘ll be out of here by sunset, tops. I‘ll even let you take a place back.”
Honestly, Sam hadn’t even been thinking about that. His mind was too busy recalling all the dreams and plans he’d had as a kid and how the only thing he actually managed to accomplish was getting away from the family business, and getting a degree. Sam had nothing against making chocolate, though he really couldn’t stand how the candy tasted. He just wanted to do more with his life than just sell chocolates.
They walked to the front door in silence. The secretary at the front gate was unfamiliar, she’d obviously been hired sometime after he left. She was a pretty, brunette who was apparently struck dumb at the sight of them. It didn’t help that Dean decided to flirt shamelessly with her. The poor girl could only point mutely at what the floor they need to get to. Fortunately, they already knew where their dad’s office was. The secretary stared after them with glazed eyes as they left
“Dean,” Sam said reproachfully as they headed to the elevator,
“What? She was hot.”
“Dad’s gonna kill you if you sleep with one of his employees.” He pointed out.
“Fuck. You‘re right.”
Dean pouted the rest of the way to the top floor, though he denied it when Sam pointed it out to him. They made it to their dad’s office without running into any other employees. However, they opened the door to their dad’s office to find a stranger sitting at their dad’s desk.
“Ah, Winchester’s Junior and Junior.” The stranger said. “Finally here are you? ”
“Who the hell are you?” Dean demanded
“Crowley. Your daddy’s lawyer.” The ‘obviously’ was left unsaid but it’s clearly there. “Now that you’re finally here, we can get the paperwork finished.”
He motioned for them to take a seat.
Paperwork? “Wait a second, I thought this was just about a will?” Sam asked, as he sat down on one of the two empty chairs. Dean took a seat next to him looking a bit pissed.
The lawyer elegantly raised an eyebrow at him. “I needed to ensure that you’d get here as fast as possible. Clearly I was wrong in thinking that the mention of a will would speed things along. It still took you over than seventy two hours to get here. Seems like I underestimated your devotion to your father.”
The lawyer’s tone was pleasant enough which only served to sharpen the mocking edge. Both of the Winchesters bristled.
“You can’t just-”
“What the hell-”
“Yes, yes,” the man interrupted, waving a hand in the air as though to brush of their complaints. “Send your complaints to daddy, I frankly don’t give a damn. My job is just to tell you that your daddy has made you two the new owners of this little building.”
Dean opened his mouth, no doubt to cuss Crowley out, and then stopped, mouth half open.
Sam was in a similar state. “What?” he managed to say.
Crowley sighs. “Let me simplify it for you. Daddy Winchester’s decided to retire and now it’s up to Sammy and Dean to run his little chocolate factory. Bastard didn‘t have the guts to do it himself so he dumped it all on me.”
That successfully shocked Sam out of his stupor. “I don’t want to run AC!“ he shouted horrified, jumping to his feet. “I already have a job. I’m a lawyer. Dad can’t expect me, except us, to just drop everything and run to do his job!”
Crowley shrugged. “Fine, leave it all up to your brother. No skin off my back.”
Sam turned to Dean to demand that he back him up only to pause when he caught sight of his brother’s face. Shit. “Dean you can’t seriously be considering this.”
Dean shrugged. His face was carefully neutral, but Sam knew his brother. It was clear that he was not of the same opinion as Sam.
“It’s not only dad’s company, Sam. It’s mom’s too.”
Shit. That wasn‘t fair. “Look, I want this company to stay in business just as much as you,“ Sam said. “But this isn’t fair. Dad can’t just dump this on us all out the blue and take off like that.”
“You don’t have to stay Sammy.” Dean said avoiding Sam’s eyes. “I can run the company just fine on my own, I’ve been watching Dad do it for years. I know you only took a few days off. And besides, I promised that you wouldn’t have to stay.
Sam sat down again, the fight suddenly drained out of him. Part of Sam was remembered just how much he hated his current job, while another part recalled his eternal desire to defy his father fighting. A bigger part though, was focused on how much he didn’t want to leave Dean alone to clean up this mess on his own. They weren’t kids anymore. Neither of them had to do what Dad said just because he ordered it. But Sam knew from experience that it wasn’t going to stop Dean from doing it anyway. He’d be a horrible brother if he left Dean to deal with this on his own.
“Fine. I’ll do it” Sam didn’t need to look at Dean to know that he was surprised. He glared straight at Crowley, trying to force the smug look on his face off with the power of a glare alone.
Crowley didn’t seem remotely affected by it. He turned to Dean. “I assume you agree as well, pretty boy?”
Dean scowled at the nickname but he gave a sharp nod.
“Great, because the paperwork’s already been filled out.“ He got up, brushing imaginary dust off his clothes. He took advantage of the Winchester’s surprise to head towards the door. “Congrats boys, you are now the proud owners of your very own chocolate factory. The holy accountant will be by shortly to give you the grand tour.”
He paused at the door.
“Oh, and one more thing, Try not to go bankrupt before I get my next paycheck.”
“Hang on just one fucking minute!” Dean shouted, shaking off the shock and jumping up. “You tricked us!”
“Possibly.” Crowley said and then he closed the door.
Dean rounded on Sam. “That can’t be legal!” he demanded. “Right?”
Sam grabbed the file that Crowley had left on the table and opened it to the first page. “Shit.”
“What?” Dean immediately snatched the file away from him.
“This has our signatures on it.”
“Shit.” Dean repeated. “I don’t even remember signing this.”
Sam took the file back and inspected the page closely. “I don’t either. But we must have. This is my signature.”
“And that’s mine.” Dean confirmed. “The old man totally played us, didn’t he?”
Sam doesn’t answer, he’s too busy quickly scanning through the rest of the file. He may have agreed to take over, but that does not mean that he appreciated being played, dammit.
“Fine, Whatever. We agreed to stay anyway.” Dean said, throwing himself into Dad’s chair and closing his eyes. “I’m taking a nap.”
Sam really wanted to take one himself, but they couldn‘t. “We can’t, Dean. Someone’s coming to give us a tour.”
“Well, one of us can go, and the other can take a nap.” Dean reasoned. “It’s not like we didn’t practically grow up here.”
Sam must have been really tried because the plan actually sounded appealing. He placed the folder back on the desk. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
“No way dude. I always lose at that.” Dean pulled something out of his pocket. “We’ll decide with this.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
Dean grinned, turning the quarter over his fingers. “Heads or tails?
“Dean, how about we both just-”
“Heads or tails Sammy. It’s not rocket science.”
“Fine, heads.”
Dean flipped the quarter. It was tails.
Sam’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You cheated.”
He couldn’t prove it but Dean had clearly cheated.
“Whatever, have fun, Sammy.” Dean leaned back in the chair, one arm draped over his eyes. Sam couldn’t see his face from his current angle, but he could practically hear the smug smirk.
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.” Dean shot back.
And that’s when the door opened and in strolled a guy in a trench coat.
No one spoke for a moment. The man had obviously walked into the room just in time to hear Dean’s response judging by the mildly startled look on his face as he stared Dean. Dean seemed oddly stunned, and stared right back at the man. Neither of them spoke, both seemed content with just staring at each other.
Sam coughed once. And then again. Nothing. God this was awkward. He took a step forward, right in front of the man, hand extended.
“Um, hey. Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Sam Winchester.”
The man finally turned away from Dean to stare at the offered hand. For a second, Sam was sure he was about to leave him hanging. Then he hesitatingly placed his hand in Sam’s.
“Sam. It is nice to meet you as well. My name is Castiel Novak.”
Sam smiled . “That’s my brother Dean.” he added since it seemed like Dean wasn’t going to bother introducing himself.
Castiel gave Dean a small nod.
“Hey.” Dean said.
An awkward silence descended upon the room once more.
“So…” Sam said, sending a annoyed look at Dean. “You‘re here to show us around, right?”
Castiel nodded. “Yes. If you’ll follow me.”
“Well, have fun, Sammy.” Dean drawled, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”
Castiel frowned at him. “Aren’t you coming?”
“What?”
“I was under the impression that I was to show both of you around.”
“Yeah, but…” Dean trailed off.
Ha, Sam thought viciously as Dean struggled to find a way to blow Castiel off without looking like a complete jerk.
They were new here and the bosses, a dangerous combination. It would only work in their favor to have their employees like them. Dean knew this. Telling the accountant that he was intending to skip out on the introductory tour so that he could drink beer and watch porn (which no matter what Dean said Sam knew was the plan) would not help with this in the slightest.
Dean turned to Sam for help. Sam smirked in reply. Dean turned back to Castiel’s expectant face. He sighed.
“Aright. Let’s hurry up and get this over with.”
~~~
It became clear quickly that giving tours was not something Castiel usually did. The man was awkward, quiet, and generally very unhelpful at actually introducing them to anything or anyone. And he stared too much. Mostly at Dean, but Sam was subjected to his intense blue eye stare a few times whenever he asked a question. It was disconcerting to face that intense stare even for a minute. Sam had no idea how Dean managed to deal with being subjected to it multiple times. No, that wasn’t technically true. Sam had a sneaking suspicion as to why.
“We’re here.” Castiel said stopping in front of a door. A piece of paper was tapped on it, the word “Prophet” scrawled across it.
“Here?” Dean repeated, eyeing the paper with mistrust. “And where’s here?”
“Chuck Shurley‘s office.” Castiel replied, his tone indicating that this should be obvious.
Dean rolled his eyes.
Sam jumped into the conversation quickly before Dean could say another word. “Who’s Chuck?”
“He’s-”
The door jerked open, interrupting Castiel. A girl, likely fresh out of college, stood there, eyes bright and wide.
“Castiel!” The girl said, excitedly “Finally! Is this them?”
“Becky.” Castiel said solemnly. “Yes, these are John Winchester’s sons, Dean and Sam.”
“Oh my god.” Becky more or less squealed. Her eyes were fixed on Sam. “You’re so..”
She trailed off with a happy sigh.
Sam took a hesitant step back. “Hi?”
He could hear Dean snickering behind him.
“Becky is Chuck’s assistant.” Castiel said, unperturbed by Becky’s behavior. He turned towards Dean as he continued. “They are in charge of all the advertising for The Angelic Company.”
“Hey, that you Castiel?” The door opened wider and a badly shaved, messily dressed man came into view. “You when the new head mojos are getting here?” He froze when he noticed Sam and Dean standing there. “Oh.”
“This is Chuck.” Castiel said unnecessarily.
“Yeah, I figured.” Dean said as Chuck squirmed uncomfortably. “You’re the guy in charge of the advertising?”
He sounded skeptical. Sam could understand. The guy looked more like a failed horror writer than the copywriter of a moderately successful chocolate factory.
Becky perked up. “Show them the-”
“Noo.” Chuck shook his head rapidly, cutting her off. He gave her a warning look.
Becky pouted. “But think of just how much more of the female population we could appeal to if we just-?
“No.”
“What?” Sam asked, glancing at Dean who looked just as lost as he felt.
“You don’t want to know.” Chuck told them. “Trust me you don’t. Just ignore anything she says that you don’t understand, and never ask her for clarification.”
“I concur.” Castiel said.
“I’m standing right here.” Becky said, sounding vaguely hurt.
Sam couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for her. “I’m sure your ideas aren’t that bad.” he said, politely.
Bad move. Becky refocused on him, stepping right into his personal bubble.
“Do you work out? Oh, you totally do, don’t you?“ She started rubbing his chest with a blissful sigh. “Ohh, these abs.”
“Um, Becky?” Sam said hesitantly. “Could you stop touching me?”
“No.”
“Is there some sort of freaky quota that needs to be filed in order to work here?” Dean asked the room in general. “Seriously, first Crowley, then Mister Tall, Dark, and Silent, and now Madame Fangirl? How the hell did Dad decide to hire you people?”
Chuck was too busy glaring jealously at Sam to answer.
Sam shrugged helplessly.
Becky didn’t stop rubbing his chest.
Castiel just stared at Dean with an unreadable expression on his face.
~~~
“Right, so, Castiel Novak?” Dean said, as they left Chuck’s office some time later. After Beckyhad finally stopped molesting Sam, Chuck had run a few new ideas by them and promised to drop by their office tomorrow. “I was meaning to ask you before, what kind of a name is that?”
Sam turned to his brother in surprise. He was pretty sure that Dean had not intentionally meant to come off sounding that douchey, but there was no way Castiel was not going to that the wrong way.
Sure enough, the trench coat-clad man frowned. “It’s my name.”
Dean put up his hands. “Hey, just saying. Didn’t mean to offend. It just that, it sounds like something out of a soap opera, that’s all.”
Unsurprisingly, Castiel did not look at all appeased at these words. He stopped walking. “I am named after Castiel, the Angel of Thursday,” he said icily, looking right at Dean. “And the name Novak is Polish. It originates from Slavic countries, and is a fairly common surname.”
Dean looked torn between amusement and annoyance. “Dude, I was just saying-”
“At least I am not named after an inadequate rifle.”
“Hey!” The amusement slipped off his face as Dean glared right back.
They ended up glaring at each other again for a good minute or so.
Right. That was it. Sam can’t take it anymore.
He had to get away from Dean and Castiel. The sexual tension between them was absolutely stifling. He wasn’t sure if Dean was aware of it or not, but it was bluntly obvious to Sam that he wanted in Cas’s pants. Seriously, he was pretty much pulling Cas’s pigtails, especially with the name comment. No to mention all the staring.
There was a hallway behind him to his right that Castiel had passed by without showing them. He quietly made his way to it, positive that his presence won’t be missed. He really had no desire to stand there awkwardly waiting for the two to realize that they were not alone. As he walked down he hall, he admitted to himself that he felt a little ignored. Don’t get him wrong, he was beyond glad that Dean was finally showing a genuine interest in someone for the first time since Lisa. It’s just that a part of him, the petty, jealous part, was wishing that he had someone to stare at and tease too.
The guilt came almost immediately after the thought. It’s been almost five years since Jessica’s death. He’d finally started to move on, but the problem was, he still felt like he was cheating anytime he went our on a date.. Not that he’s been on any since he got a job at the law firm. But either way, even the thought of going out with someone filled him with a sense of guilt that he just couldn’t shake. It’s stupid, Sam knew, but he couldn’t help it.
A flash of movement caught Sam’s eye as he walked past a glass door. He paused, curious, and peered inside. There was a large group of people inside, all clad in aprons with chocolate colored ‘AC’ printed on them. A few are cooking something on the stoves at the very back of the room. There are a few people in front of a large counter too, doing something with the chocolate. Sam was pretty sure they’re molding it, and was that a wing?
This was where the chocolate angels was made, he realized. Sam hated eating them, always had, but he couldn’t deny having a soft spot for. Seeing a chocolate angel for the first time in years was-
“New here?”
Sam jumped away from the door and spun around. “What?” he yelped, feeling oddly like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Which was ridiculous. He was co-owner of the company now. He could sulk in the corners and stare at his employees making chocolate if he wanted to. It wasn’t creepy at all.
A man in a white lab coat was standing behind him. He raised his eyebrows at him, something close to amusement playing on his face. “Yup, you’re new.”
“I, uh, kinda.” Sam admitted. “Hi. I’m Sam.”
“Gabriel, dude who designs chocolates. You’re one of Crowley’s new assistants then?” Gabriel nodded like some things had suddenly become clear. “Don’t let him catch you down here. He hates it when his minions associate with us.”
“I’m not-”
“Come along then little Charlie,” Gabriel interrupted. “And I’ll show you around my chocolate factory before the King of Hell drags you back. ”
That was actually a very good description of Crowley.
“Wait, I-,” He paused. “Did you just call me Charlie? As in Charlie from ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory‘?”
“Keep up, Charlie!” Gabriel was practically smirking at him. “I haven’t got all day. Neither have you.”
“My name’s Sam.” He corrected half-heartedly. He wasn’t expecting Gabriel to actually listen and sure enough, the man didn’t.
“This, Charlie, is where the magic happens.” He opened the door, and indicated Sam to go in.
Okay, Sam was positive now. Dean was right. There had to be some find of weirdness criteria that needed to be met when Dad fired people because there was seriously wrong with this guy. What kind of sane individual invites the person that had been creeping outside their workspace in for a closer look?
But Sam followed him into the room anyway, too curious not to. It had been years since he’d seen chocolate being made, and he had to admit, he was itching to see how much the process had changed. And Gabriel was kind of interesting. In a odd kind of way.
One of the things that made AC so unique was the fact that everything, from making the chocolates to packing them, was done by hand. Sam had no idea if his dad had stuck to this old fashioned system because it worked so well, or if he stuck to it because of his distrust for machinery. Either way, the current system was what got them ranked in the among the top 50s for the best tasting chocolate in the States.
Most of the workers didn’t look up as Sam walked into the room. The few that did look up, glancing briefly at him, before dismissing him and tossing questions as Gabriel. Gabriel answered them easily, glancing at Sam a couple of times as he did so. Sam took the chance to gaze around the room and breathe in the familiar, oddly comforting smell of chocolate. He was staring at a chocolate angel being made to his left when he noticed something odd about the questions Gabriel was being asked.
"Did they just call you Mister Wonka?" he asked, incredulously.
Gabriel grinned. "Yep. Hey, since I’m Wonka, will you be my Charlie?"
“ ...I'm pretty sure there’s something seriously wrong with that sentence.” Despite this, Sam couldn’t help but smile.
“Aw don’t be such a stick, Charlie.” Gabriel clapped him on the back. “Come along, let’s get you some free samples. I’m guessing that‘s why you were standing out there like Edward outside Bella‘s bedroom window.”
“Will they turn me into a blueberry?” Sam asked wryly, determinedly ignoring the stalker comment. He couldn’t really defend himself against that. “Or will they turn my spit in seven different colors?”
Gabe didn’t answer. Sam turned to see why and saw the man staring at him. No actually, he was staring at something on Sam’s face. Oddly enough, Sam‘s face began to heat up under the stare. Sam opened his mouth to ask what was wrong.
“Hey, Gabriel?” one of the bakers shouted from the other side of the room. “Should it be bubbling like this?”
Gabriel’s honey brown eyes widened. “Uh oh.” He was gone before Sam could say another word.
Okay, that did not sound good. Sam started to follow him, figuring that since he’s the new boss, then he should probably inspect any possible explosions. It had nothing to do with wanting to be near the self proclaimed chocolate man.
And that was when Dean decided to burst into the room, severely pissed off and dragged Sam away.
~~~
“Fuck, what time is it?” Dean moaned, collapsing into John’s chair again the second they reached the office. Sam could already tell that Dean would be commandeering the chair every moment he got and resolved to buy a chair for himself as soon as possible. “Is the day over yet?”
“It’s barely two, Dean,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes. He was still a little miffed about being pulled away from Gabriel without the chance to say good bye. “You can take lunch if you want. Invite Castiel with to come with you so you two can ‘bond’.”
Dean’s reply came in the form of a bird.
“Hey, what happened to the tour.” Sam couldn’t believe he hadn‘t asked before. “Where’d Castiel go anyway?”
“We decided to go ‘our separate ways’.” Dean said, lowering his voice in a bad imitation of Castiel’s. “Since you ditched and Cas was freaking PMSing. Seriously dude, that was not cool.”
Which translated to Castiel deciding he didn’t want to take anymore of Dean’s bull shit and going back to do his job and now Dean was pouting about it. It didn’t escape Sam’s notice that Castiel had now been shortened to Cas. Dean had it bad.
“Sorry,“ Sam said insincerely. “Go take lunch. I’ll go over these papers and see if there’s a way we can force Dad to come back.”
Dean grumbled something but made no move to get up. Sam knew how his brother felt. He was feeling a little overwhelmed himself. And he couldn’t stop thinking about Gabriel. Or the fact that he and Dean were now the sole owners of the family business. Not just Gabriel.
“Well, look on the bright side.” he said, picking up the file Crowley had left.
Dean opened one eye.
“At least the day can’t get any worse.”
And that’s when the office door burst open.
Sam jumped to his feet immediately. Dean tried to follow, but jumping up when your feet are on the table is no easy feat. He recovered quickly, but not before both Sam and the stranger both saw the stumble.
“So, you’re John’s boys.” The stranger said, unimpressed, looking at Dean. “Clearly don’t take after your father much do you?”
Dean flushed an angry red. “Doesn’t anyone ever knock anymore? And who the hell are you?”
“Lucifer, of Morning Star Ice Cream.” The man introduced himself with a smirk. “We’re the ones that introduced the Armageddon to the world.”
“Never heard of you.” Dean said immediately.
“I’m not surprised.” Lucifer replied. “I wouldn’t have expected someone like you have sampled my ice cream.”
“Wait,” Sam interrupted with a frown. He‘d heard that name before. “Morning Star? As in the company that’s been trying to buy Angelic Company for the past four years?”
“Five,” Lucifer corrected. “But then, who’s counting?”
Dean’s eyes narrowed. Sam practically saw him shift into defensive mode. “So you’re the douche who’s been a pain in Dad’s ass. How the hell did you get in here?”
Lucifer shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by the outright hostility being directed at him. “You should fire your secretary. A few small compliments and here and there, she let me waltz right in.”
Unfortunately , Sam had no trouble imagining that. They probably would have to fire her, but this blond douche bag didn’t need to know that. “Here’s a better question, why are you here?”
Lucifer flopped onto the sofa that Sam had vacated. Sam took a few steps back, putting some distance between them. There was just something a bit unsettling about the man.
“You know, when I first heard of your daddy’s little company.” Lucifer purred, leaning back. “The last thing I expected was for it to be a chocolate factory. Though I have to admit, the company here is heavenly.”
He more or less sneered at Sam.
Sam couldn’t see his brother’s face at the moment, but he had no doubt it mirrored his own. What the fucking hell? Was this guy for real?
“If you’re not going to tell us why you’re here,” Dean said shaking off the creepiness before Sam. “Then leave”
“Hold your horses” The ice cream man said. “ I just want to offer a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Sam asked suspiciously.
“We’re not making any deals with some guy name after the freaking devil.” Dean snapped. “Get the hell out.”
Lucifer ignored him and spoke directly to Sam. “I can’t imagine that you’re too happy with this, Sam.” he said. “Having to drop your whole life just because Daddy decided to go vacation in the Bahamas.”
“I’m fine.” Sam said tightly.
“How about I take this company off your hands, hmm?” He continued as though he hadn’t heard Sam‘s denial. “You get to go back to your little old lives and AC gets an owner who actually has the experience to run her.”
“No.” Dean and Sam say immediately as one.
Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “Cute.”
Dean scowled. “You’ve got same balls, coming in here and demanding that we sell you our factory. Get the hell out before I knock your friggn’ balls off.”
Lucifer sighs as though Dean had severely disappointed him “And here I thought that you could get though one conversation like civilized folk without threats.” His eyes narrowed and suddenly the air around him seemed to chill. “Consider my offer carefully boys. I won’t make it again.”
“You can take you offer.” Dean said before Sam could more than open his mouth. “and stuff it where the sun don‘t shine, because we are not selling AC. Ever.”
Not as eloquently put as Sam would have said it, but it got the gist across.
“Leave.” He ordered, pulling out his cell phone. “Or I’m calling the police.”
Lucifer did not seem at all concerned by the threat, but he got off the sofa. “Well, I can see that I’m not wanted here. Call me if you change your minds. You know where to find me.”
“For the last time, We’re not selling AC.” Sam said firmly.
“Oh, you’ll say yes, Sam.” Lucifer said, with an oddly disturbing smile. “You were always going to say yes.”
And on that cryptic and ominous note, he exited the room.
“What the hell does that mean?” Sam asked, bemused. He turned to his brother His brother looked pissed which wasn’t surprising. No, the surprising part was the resolution in his eyes. It had been years since Sam last saw his brother that determined about anything.
“We are going to run this factory just as well Dad did.” Dean declared. “Hell, maybe even better.”
Sam wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or Sam, but he felt the exact same way.
PART 2
Rating: PG13
Pairings: Castiel/Dean, Gabriel/Sam
Characters: Castiel, Gabriel, Sam, Dean, Crowley, Chuck, Becky, Lucifer, Ruby
Word Count: 11K
Warnings: None
Summary: Sam preferred law over chocolates. Dean liked chocolate (especially chocolate pie) but was more comfortable with cars. But when John takes an impromptu vacation, they must take over the family business or risk losing it to the sleazy ice cream shop owner Lucifer.
A/N:This was written for the spn_reversebang 2011
Check out the amazing art and fanmix by
lonewined that this was inspired by!
John Winchester was the last person anyone would have expected to own a chocolate factory. Rough, tough, and constantly itching for action, he looked more the type to own a garage, or hunter’s lounge, or a bar. Hell, even a gas station was more likely career path.
Which made sense since opening a chocolate company had not been his idea to begin with. It was his wife Mary who had come up with that particular brainchild. She had even chosen the name: The Angelic Company, complete with a little chocolate angel which became the company's official logo. Mary loved chocolate. Milk, dark, semi-sweet, or bitter, it didn’t matter. If it was chocolate, then she absolutely adored it.
The company had started out as a last ditch effort to secure a source of income. John had been home from service in Vietnam for nearly year and had not managed to find a permanent job. Mary had been eight months pregnant, due any week. They were months behind on the mortgage. Their emergency funds were nearly out. Neither had any family they were willing to ask for help. In short, they were desperate.
Then Mary uncovered a few recipes for making chocolate amongst the junk left to her in the Campbell Family attic. And then her uncle turned up with an vacant little shop that he was selling cheap. Armed with a couple of community college business courses and a whole lot of desperation, the two dipped into the last of their funds and set out to make chocolate.
To this day, John has no idea how they actually managed it but slowly, a few people started buying their chocolate. And then more people started buying. And then, even more.
The day his first son, Dean Winchester, was born was also the day Angelic Company got its first big order. If John had to choose, then it was that order that decided that Angelic Company was no longer just a last ditch attempt to stay off the streets. It was a set deal. Four years later, when Sammy was born, Angelic Company was a proper little chocolate factory. Everything was perfect.
Then Mary died.
John dealt with the loss the only way he could. He threw himself into The Angelic Company. It became his obsession. Mary had loved the little factory and for her, he would make sure that the Angelic Company stayed in business for a long, long time.
Before he knew it, his kids were all grown up and the Angelic Company was a household name. Well, in most of the Midwest at least, and some parts of China. But they shipped chocolate all around the world and they had nearly a hundred different flavors. Not to mention that the little factory had expanded into several huge ones, though the main headquarters stayed in Lawrence, Kansas. It was everything Mary had dreamed of but never got to see.
Now however, John was ready to take a break. A nice long vacation, preferably someplace that allowed hunting. He figured he deserved it after devoting so many years to the company. Unfortunately, neither of his sons had much interest in taking over the family business.
Sam had made it clear very early on that he preferred law over chocolate which was unfortunate as the boy had a real head for business. On the other hand, Dean liked chocolate almost as much as Mary had and cared about the company almost as much as John did. A couple of years ago, John had been certain that he’d be able to pass AC onto Dean soon. Then Bobby went and landed himself in a wheelchair. Dean had headed over to South Dakota to help out at the garage until Bobby adjusted and had just ended up staying.
Nonetheless, John Winchester forked over nearly three decades of his life working at that damn factory. It was about time that he took some time off and he was going to get it even if he had to drag his sons back to the family business, kicking and screaming.
~~~
Sam Winchester sighed and glanced at the clock for what had to be at least the tenth time that evening. It was already well past eight and he still had three huge piles of paperwork to get through. Being a PA freaking sucked. The pay was horrible, the hours worse, and the workload was hellish.
This was not how Sam had imagined using his degree. Here he was, a college graduate with a law degree from Stanford, doing grunt work in a tiny local law office in Palo Alto. Not once had Sam thought that he would be sitting in an office at nine on a Friday night, trying not to stab himself with a pencil. It didn’t help that his co-workers were jackasses. They’d ditched him hours ago, claiming they had plans that they couldn’t get out of and thanking him for ‘offering’ to finish up. And Sam, like the softhearted pansy that his brother often accused him of being, hadn’t stopped them.
Sam tossed the pencil he’d been contemplating gouging himself with into a wastebasket. He wanted to quit. Hell, he would quit if he had any other options. It was probably a bit sad that after close to nine months job hunting, this was the best jig he could get. Sam had been working this job for close to three years now and he still hated it. He’d decided long ago that the second he got a better job offer, he was out of here. Sadly, that offer had yet to come.
Sam glanced at the clock again and then back at the stacks and reached a decision. Screw the work. He’d been here since eight in the freaking morning. He was going home. He’d deal with the consequences on Monday. Five minutes later he was out the door and down the street, arriving at the bus stop just in time to catch the late bus. He spent the ride marking up any job possible opportunities on the newspaper that he’d flinched from office.
Maybe what he needed was a break, Sam thought as he unlocked the door to his apartment. Nothing fancy, just a little time off so he could relax, sleep in for once, read that novel he’d been putting off for so long. He stepped inside the dark room, shrugging off his coat and wincing at how stiff the muscles around his shoulders were. Yeah, he really needed a little vac-
There was someone in his apartment.
Sam realized this just as the intruder came into view. Without a second thought, Sam lunged forward, his fist aimed at the burglar’s head. Thankfully, he hadn’t had a chance to turn on the light yet so he had an advantage over the intruder as it was his apartment and he’d pretty much memorized the layout long ago. Unfortunately, the dude still managed to dodge the punch. And he countered with a punch of his own, which Sam didn’t manage to back away from in time. No matter, he lunged forward again, this time using his momentum and his bigger build to send them both stumbling over the back of the couch. Sam aimed a kick at the guy’s family jewels on the way done, but it was dark, and somehow in the struggle, he ended up being pinned to the ground instead.
“Easy tiger.” The burglar drawled.
Sam froze. He knew that voice. “Dean?”
His older brother smirked down at him. “Dude, you suck. That was just way too easy.”
Sam gapped at him. “What the hell, Dean? You scared the crap out of me!”
Dean laughed. “Aww, did I scare the little lawyer?”
Ten seconds later, he was the one being pinned to the ground.
“Okay,” Dean said, more amused than annoyed. “Proved me wrong. You still got it.”
Sam rolled his eyes and got off his brother. “Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but what are you doing here?”
Dean took the offered hand and got up. “Dad’s gone.”
Sam waited for him to continue. When it become clear that he wasn‘t, he frowned. “What do you mean ‘gone’? Gone where?”
Dean shrugged. “No idea. All I know is that he took off somewhere a couple of weeks ago.”
“That can’t be all.” Sam turned on the light and waved at Dean to take a seat. “You could have told me this on the phone. No way you’d fly all the way to California to just tell me this.”
“Didn’t fly dude, took the Impala.”
“You drove all the way to California? From South Dakota?” Was his brother for real?
Dean shrugged, a smug smile on his face.
“How long did that take you? Why didn’t you just fly? Or better yet, call?” Sometimes, it seemed like his brother didn’t have an ounce of common sense in his body.
“Two words, dude. Road. Trip.”
Sam rolled his eyes as he walked over to the fridge to grab a couple of beers, he had a feeling he‘d be needing them. “Right. So what’s the real reason you’re here?”
Dean didn’t say anything for a moment. Sam glanced back over his shoulder to see him poking at the plastic fruit basket that Sam had no idea how he’d come by and had just dumped onto the dining table.
“Dean?” he prompted.
“I got a letter from Dad’s lawyer.” Dean told the apple.
“Why?” He tossed a beer at Dean, frowning. That was unusual. Why was Dad’s lawyer contacting Dean?
“Something about a will.”
Wait a minute, what? “I thought you said he was just on vacation?”
“I don’t know, man.” Dean retorted, exasperated. He finally turned away from the riveting fruit bowl to focus on Sam. “You’re the fancy mancy lawyer. You figure out why the hell dad’s lawyer wants to meet with us.”
Sam’s frown deepened. Dean was worried, that much was pretty obvious.
“Us? Why me too?” Sam knew he was dangerously close to outright whining but he couldn’t help. He was not going to just drop his life just because his dad decided to forgo his responsibilities, never mind the fact that he had already thinking of taking a break.
“The lawyer guy refuses to talk unless we’re both there.” Dean opened the beer and gulped some down. “Just a couple of days, two weeks tops. Think of is as a vacation. As soon as the lawyer tells us whatever the hell is going on with dad, you can come right back here.”
“Dean you’re crazy if you think I’m driving to Kansas with you. Hell, you’re crazy if you think I’m going back at all.”
“Come on Sammy.” Dean said. “It’s just a few days to see what the lawyer guy wants. You don’t have to stay.”
“Dean…” It was tempting, a trip back home might just be what he needed to get out of his current funk. But he was not about to let his dad push him around like he was a kid again.
“Think of it like a vacation. Hell, weren’t you telling me just last month how much you wished you could just take off for a week. Well, here’s your chance!” Dean looked at him expectantly.
Sam sighed heavily and reached a decision. “Right. Let’s go.”
Hopefully he would not end up regretting this.
~~~
By the end of the first day, Sam remembered why driving across country with Dean was never a good idea. His elder brother operated on the rule that “driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake whole” which wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t had the exact same tastes in music as Dad. Dean also stuck dirty spoons in Sam’s mouth when he was sleeping and took pictures and sent them to everyone they knew (aka Bobby who had not bothered to reply but still, it was embarrassing). But, worst of all was that he refused to admit that he was just as worried about the meeting with the lawyer as Sam was. Which meant that he spent the entire trip pretending not to be worried, snapping at Sam whenever he tried to bring it up, and then hitting as many bars as possible whenever they stopped for the night.
Needless to say Sam was ecstatic when they finally reached the Angelic Company.
By that point, both of them are too worked up at whatever the hell the lawyer wanted to bother checking into a motel for a quick shut eye. They headed straight for AC despite the fact that they’d been in the Impala for six hours straight and were both exhausted and probably reeked.
The Angelic Company was exactly how Sam remembered it being four year ago. It was still a large chocolate-brown, three story building. The only thing that marked the building as a chocolate factory was the sign declaring the name of the company, complete with the chocolate angel, just a couple yards from the front door.
“Man this place hasn’t changed a bit.” Dean said, echoing Sam’s thoughts as they got out of the Impala, a smile on his face. “Good old AC.”
“Yeah,” Sam said, with considerably less enthusiasm. “Good old AC.”
He could see Dean turn to frown at him from the corner of his eye, but he ignored him. Dean might have fond memories of this place, but at the moment, all Sam could remember was the burning desire to get out and see the world. Which turned out fucking great. He’d made it as far as California before ending up back here again.
“Come on,” he said, pushing away those thoughts. “Let’s go see Dad’s lawyer.” The “and then get out of here” was unsaid, but clear.
Dean clapped him on the back as he passed him. “Dude, quit it with the PMSing. You‘ll be out of here by sunset, tops. I‘ll even let you take a place back.”
Honestly, Sam hadn’t even been thinking about that. His mind was too busy recalling all the dreams and plans he’d had as a kid and how the only thing he actually managed to accomplish was getting away from the family business, and getting a degree. Sam had nothing against making chocolate, though he really couldn’t stand how the candy tasted. He just wanted to do more with his life than just sell chocolates.
They walked to the front door in silence. The secretary at the front gate was unfamiliar, she’d obviously been hired sometime after he left. She was a pretty, brunette who was apparently struck dumb at the sight of them. It didn’t help that Dean decided to flirt shamelessly with her. The poor girl could only point mutely at what the floor they need to get to. Fortunately, they already knew where their dad’s office was. The secretary stared after them with glazed eyes as they left
“Dean,” Sam said reproachfully as they headed to the elevator,
“What? She was hot.”
“Dad’s gonna kill you if you sleep with one of his employees.” He pointed out.
“Fuck. You‘re right.”
Dean pouted the rest of the way to the top floor, though he denied it when Sam pointed it out to him. They made it to their dad’s office without running into any other employees. However, they opened the door to their dad’s office to find a stranger sitting at their dad’s desk.
“Ah, Winchester’s Junior and Junior.” The stranger said. “Finally here are you? ”
“Who the hell are you?” Dean demanded
“Crowley. Your daddy’s lawyer.” The ‘obviously’ was left unsaid but it’s clearly there. “Now that you’re finally here, we can get the paperwork finished.”
He motioned for them to take a seat.
Paperwork? “Wait a second, I thought this was just about a will?” Sam asked, as he sat down on one of the two empty chairs. Dean took a seat next to him looking a bit pissed.
The lawyer elegantly raised an eyebrow at him. “I needed to ensure that you’d get here as fast as possible. Clearly I was wrong in thinking that the mention of a will would speed things along. It still took you over than seventy two hours to get here. Seems like I underestimated your devotion to your father.”
The lawyer’s tone was pleasant enough which only served to sharpen the mocking edge. Both of the Winchesters bristled.
“You can’t just-”
“What the hell-”
“Yes, yes,” the man interrupted, waving a hand in the air as though to brush of their complaints. “Send your complaints to daddy, I frankly don’t give a damn. My job is just to tell you that your daddy has made you two the new owners of this little building.”
Dean opened his mouth, no doubt to cuss Crowley out, and then stopped, mouth half open.
Sam was in a similar state. “What?” he managed to say.
Crowley sighs. “Let me simplify it for you. Daddy Winchester’s decided to retire and now it’s up to Sammy and Dean to run his little chocolate factory. Bastard didn‘t have the guts to do it himself so he dumped it all on me.”
That successfully shocked Sam out of his stupor. “I don’t want to run AC!“ he shouted horrified, jumping to his feet. “I already have a job. I’m a lawyer. Dad can’t expect me, except us, to just drop everything and run to do his job!”
Crowley shrugged. “Fine, leave it all up to your brother. No skin off my back.”
Sam turned to Dean to demand that he back him up only to pause when he caught sight of his brother’s face. Shit. “Dean you can’t seriously be considering this.”
Dean shrugged. His face was carefully neutral, but Sam knew his brother. It was clear that he was not of the same opinion as Sam.
“It’s not only dad’s company, Sam. It’s mom’s too.”
Shit. That wasn‘t fair. “Look, I want this company to stay in business just as much as you,“ Sam said. “But this isn’t fair. Dad can’t just dump this on us all out the blue and take off like that.”
“You don’t have to stay Sammy.” Dean said avoiding Sam’s eyes. “I can run the company just fine on my own, I’ve been watching Dad do it for years. I know you only took a few days off. And besides, I promised that you wouldn’t have to stay.
Sam sat down again, the fight suddenly drained out of him. Part of Sam was remembered just how much he hated his current job, while another part recalled his eternal desire to defy his father fighting. A bigger part though, was focused on how much he didn’t want to leave Dean alone to clean up this mess on his own. They weren’t kids anymore. Neither of them had to do what Dad said just because he ordered it. But Sam knew from experience that it wasn’t going to stop Dean from doing it anyway. He’d be a horrible brother if he left Dean to deal with this on his own.
“Fine. I’ll do it” Sam didn’t need to look at Dean to know that he was surprised. He glared straight at Crowley, trying to force the smug look on his face off with the power of a glare alone.
Crowley didn’t seem remotely affected by it. He turned to Dean. “I assume you agree as well, pretty boy?”
Dean scowled at the nickname but he gave a sharp nod.
“Great, because the paperwork’s already been filled out.“ He got up, brushing imaginary dust off his clothes. He took advantage of the Winchester’s surprise to head towards the door. “Congrats boys, you are now the proud owners of your very own chocolate factory. The holy accountant will be by shortly to give you the grand tour.”
He paused at the door.
“Oh, and one more thing, Try not to go bankrupt before I get my next paycheck.”
“Hang on just one fucking minute!” Dean shouted, shaking off the shock and jumping up. “You tricked us!”
“Possibly.” Crowley said and then he closed the door.
Dean rounded on Sam. “That can’t be legal!” he demanded. “Right?”
Sam grabbed the file that Crowley had left on the table and opened it to the first page. “Shit.”
“What?” Dean immediately snatched the file away from him.
“This has our signatures on it.”
“Shit.” Dean repeated. “I don’t even remember signing this.”
Sam took the file back and inspected the page closely. “I don’t either. But we must have. This is my signature.”
“And that’s mine.” Dean confirmed. “The old man totally played us, didn’t he?”
Sam doesn’t answer, he’s too busy quickly scanning through the rest of the file. He may have agreed to take over, but that does not mean that he appreciated being played, dammit.
“Fine, Whatever. We agreed to stay anyway.” Dean said, throwing himself into Dad’s chair and closing his eyes. “I’m taking a nap.”
Sam really wanted to take one himself, but they couldn‘t. “We can’t, Dean. Someone’s coming to give us a tour.”
“Well, one of us can go, and the other can take a nap.” Dean reasoned. “It’s not like we didn’t practically grow up here.”
Sam must have been really tried because the plan actually sounded appealing. He placed the folder back on the desk. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
“No way dude. I always lose at that.” Dean pulled something out of his pocket. “We’ll decide with this.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
Dean grinned, turning the quarter over his fingers. “Heads or tails?
“Dean, how about we both just-”
“Heads or tails Sammy. It’s not rocket science.”
“Fine, heads.”
Dean flipped the quarter. It was tails.
Sam’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You cheated.”
He couldn’t prove it but Dean had clearly cheated.
“Whatever, have fun, Sammy.” Dean leaned back in the chair, one arm draped over his eyes. Sam couldn’t see his face from his current angle, but he could practically hear the smug smirk.
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.” Dean shot back.
And that’s when the door opened and in strolled a guy in a trench coat.
No one spoke for a moment. The man had obviously walked into the room just in time to hear Dean’s response judging by the mildly startled look on his face as he stared Dean. Dean seemed oddly stunned, and stared right back at the man. Neither of them spoke, both seemed content with just staring at each other.
Sam coughed once. And then again. Nothing. God this was awkward. He took a step forward, right in front of the man, hand extended.
“Um, hey. Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Sam Winchester.”
The man finally turned away from Dean to stare at the offered hand. For a second, Sam was sure he was about to leave him hanging. Then he hesitatingly placed his hand in Sam’s.
“Sam. It is nice to meet you as well. My name is Castiel Novak.”
Sam smiled . “That’s my brother Dean.” he added since it seemed like Dean wasn’t going to bother introducing himself.
Castiel gave Dean a small nod.
“Hey.” Dean said.
An awkward silence descended upon the room once more.
“So…” Sam said, sending a annoyed look at Dean. “You‘re here to show us around, right?”
Castiel nodded. “Yes. If you’ll follow me.”
“Well, have fun, Sammy.” Dean drawled, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”
Castiel frowned at him. “Aren’t you coming?”
“What?”
“I was under the impression that I was to show both of you around.”
“Yeah, but…” Dean trailed off.
Ha, Sam thought viciously as Dean struggled to find a way to blow Castiel off without looking like a complete jerk.
They were new here and the bosses, a dangerous combination. It would only work in their favor to have their employees like them. Dean knew this. Telling the accountant that he was intending to skip out on the introductory tour so that he could drink beer and watch porn (which no matter what Dean said Sam knew was the plan) would not help with this in the slightest.
Dean turned to Sam for help. Sam smirked in reply. Dean turned back to Castiel’s expectant face. He sighed.
“Aright. Let’s hurry up and get this over with.”
~~~
It became clear quickly that giving tours was not something Castiel usually did. The man was awkward, quiet, and generally very unhelpful at actually introducing them to anything or anyone. And he stared too much. Mostly at Dean, but Sam was subjected to his intense blue eye stare a few times whenever he asked a question. It was disconcerting to face that intense stare even for a minute. Sam had no idea how Dean managed to deal with being subjected to it multiple times. No, that wasn’t technically true. Sam had a sneaking suspicion as to why.
“We’re here.” Castiel said stopping in front of a door. A piece of paper was tapped on it, the word “Prophet” scrawled across it.
“Here?” Dean repeated, eyeing the paper with mistrust. “And where’s here?”
“Chuck Shurley‘s office.” Castiel replied, his tone indicating that this should be obvious.
Dean rolled his eyes.
Sam jumped into the conversation quickly before Dean could say another word. “Who’s Chuck?”
“He’s-”
The door jerked open, interrupting Castiel. A girl, likely fresh out of college, stood there, eyes bright and wide.
“Castiel!” The girl said, excitedly “Finally! Is this them?”
“Becky.” Castiel said solemnly. “Yes, these are John Winchester’s sons, Dean and Sam.”
“Oh my god.” Becky more or less squealed. Her eyes were fixed on Sam. “You’re so..”
She trailed off with a happy sigh.
Sam took a hesitant step back. “Hi?”
He could hear Dean snickering behind him.
“Becky is Chuck’s assistant.” Castiel said, unperturbed by Becky’s behavior. He turned towards Dean as he continued. “They are in charge of all the advertising for The Angelic Company.”
“Hey, that you Castiel?” The door opened wider and a badly shaved, messily dressed man came into view. “You when the new head mojos are getting here?” He froze when he noticed Sam and Dean standing there. “Oh.”
“This is Chuck.” Castiel said unnecessarily.
“Yeah, I figured.” Dean said as Chuck squirmed uncomfortably. “You’re the guy in charge of the advertising?”
He sounded skeptical. Sam could understand. The guy looked more like a failed horror writer than the copywriter of a moderately successful chocolate factory.
Becky perked up. “Show them the-”
“Noo.” Chuck shook his head rapidly, cutting her off. He gave her a warning look.
Becky pouted. “But think of just how much more of the female population we could appeal to if we just-?
“No.”
“What?” Sam asked, glancing at Dean who looked just as lost as he felt.
“You don’t want to know.” Chuck told them. “Trust me you don’t. Just ignore anything she says that you don’t understand, and never ask her for clarification.”
“I concur.” Castiel said.
“I’m standing right here.” Becky said, sounding vaguely hurt.
Sam couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for her. “I’m sure your ideas aren’t that bad.” he said, politely.
Bad move. Becky refocused on him, stepping right into his personal bubble.
“Do you work out? Oh, you totally do, don’t you?“ She started rubbing his chest with a blissful sigh. “Ohh, these abs.”
“Um, Becky?” Sam said hesitantly. “Could you stop touching me?”
“No.”
“Is there some sort of freaky quota that needs to be filed in order to work here?” Dean asked the room in general. “Seriously, first Crowley, then Mister Tall, Dark, and Silent, and now Madame Fangirl? How the hell did Dad decide to hire you people?”
Chuck was too busy glaring jealously at Sam to answer.
Sam shrugged helplessly.
Becky didn’t stop rubbing his chest.
Castiel just stared at Dean with an unreadable expression on his face.
~~~
“Right, so, Castiel Novak?” Dean said, as they left Chuck’s office some time later. After Beckyhad finally stopped molesting Sam, Chuck had run a few new ideas by them and promised to drop by their office tomorrow. “I was meaning to ask you before, what kind of a name is that?”
Sam turned to his brother in surprise. He was pretty sure that Dean had not intentionally meant to come off sounding that douchey, but there was no way Castiel was not going to that the wrong way.
Sure enough, the trench coat-clad man frowned. “It’s my name.”
Dean put up his hands. “Hey, just saying. Didn’t mean to offend. It just that, it sounds like something out of a soap opera, that’s all.”
Unsurprisingly, Castiel did not look at all appeased at these words. He stopped walking. “I am named after Castiel, the Angel of Thursday,” he said icily, looking right at Dean. “And the name Novak is Polish. It originates from Slavic countries, and is a fairly common surname.”
Dean looked torn between amusement and annoyance. “Dude, I was just saying-”
“At least I am not named after an inadequate rifle.”
“Hey!” The amusement slipped off his face as Dean glared right back.
They ended up glaring at each other again for a good minute or so.
Right. That was it. Sam can’t take it anymore.
He had to get away from Dean and Castiel. The sexual tension between them was absolutely stifling. He wasn’t sure if Dean was aware of it or not, but it was bluntly obvious to Sam that he wanted in Cas’s pants. Seriously, he was pretty much pulling Cas’s pigtails, especially with the name comment. No to mention all the staring.
There was a hallway behind him to his right that Castiel had passed by without showing them. He quietly made his way to it, positive that his presence won’t be missed. He really had no desire to stand there awkwardly waiting for the two to realize that they were not alone. As he walked down he hall, he admitted to himself that he felt a little ignored. Don’t get him wrong, he was beyond glad that Dean was finally showing a genuine interest in someone for the first time since Lisa. It’s just that a part of him, the petty, jealous part, was wishing that he had someone to stare at and tease too.
The guilt came almost immediately after the thought. It’s been almost five years since Jessica’s death. He’d finally started to move on, but the problem was, he still felt like he was cheating anytime he went our on a date.. Not that he’s been on any since he got a job at the law firm. But either way, even the thought of going out with someone filled him with a sense of guilt that he just couldn’t shake. It’s stupid, Sam knew, but he couldn’t help it.
A flash of movement caught Sam’s eye as he walked past a glass door. He paused, curious, and peered inside. There was a large group of people inside, all clad in aprons with chocolate colored ‘AC’ printed on them. A few are cooking something on the stoves at the very back of the room. There are a few people in front of a large counter too, doing something with the chocolate. Sam was pretty sure they’re molding it, and was that a wing?
This was where the chocolate angels was made, he realized. Sam hated eating them, always had, but he couldn’t deny having a soft spot for. Seeing a chocolate angel for the first time in years was-
“New here?”
Sam jumped away from the door and spun around. “What?” he yelped, feeling oddly like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Which was ridiculous. He was co-owner of the company now. He could sulk in the corners and stare at his employees making chocolate if he wanted to. It wasn’t creepy at all.
A man in a white lab coat was standing behind him. He raised his eyebrows at him, something close to amusement playing on his face. “Yup, you’re new.”
“I, uh, kinda.” Sam admitted. “Hi. I’m Sam.”
“Gabriel, dude who designs chocolates. You’re one of Crowley’s new assistants then?” Gabriel nodded like some things had suddenly become clear. “Don’t let him catch you down here. He hates it when his minions associate with us.”
“I’m not-”
“Come along then little Charlie,” Gabriel interrupted. “And I’ll show you around my chocolate factory before the King of Hell drags you back. ”
That was actually a very good description of Crowley.
“Wait, I-,” He paused. “Did you just call me Charlie? As in Charlie from ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory‘?”
“Keep up, Charlie!” Gabriel was practically smirking at him. “I haven’t got all day. Neither have you.”
“My name’s Sam.” He corrected half-heartedly. He wasn’t expecting Gabriel to actually listen and sure enough, the man didn’t.
“This, Charlie, is where the magic happens.” He opened the door, and indicated Sam to go in.
Okay, Sam was positive now. Dean was right. There had to be some find of weirdness criteria that needed to be met when Dad fired people because there was seriously wrong with this guy. What kind of sane individual invites the person that had been creeping outside their workspace in for a closer look?
But Sam followed him into the room anyway, too curious not to. It had been years since he’d seen chocolate being made, and he had to admit, he was itching to see how much the process had changed. And Gabriel was kind of interesting. In a odd kind of way.
One of the things that made AC so unique was the fact that everything, from making the chocolates to packing them, was done by hand. Sam had no idea if his dad had stuck to this old fashioned system because it worked so well, or if he stuck to it because of his distrust for machinery. Either way, the current system was what got them ranked in the among the top 50s for the best tasting chocolate in the States.
Most of the workers didn’t look up as Sam walked into the room. The few that did look up, glancing briefly at him, before dismissing him and tossing questions as Gabriel. Gabriel answered them easily, glancing at Sam a couple of times as he did so. Sam took the chance to gaze around the room and breathe in the familiar, oddly comforting smell of chocolate. He was staring at a chocolate angel being made to his left when he noticed something odd about the questions Gabriel was being asked.
"Did they just call you Mister Wonka?" he asked, incredulously.
Gabriel grinned. "Yep. Hey, since I’m Wonka, will you be my Charlie?"
“ ...I'm pretty sure there’s something seriously wrong with that sentence.” Despite this, Sam couldn’t help but smile.
“Aw don’t be such a stick, Charlie.” Gabriel clapped him on the back. “Come along, let’s get you some free samples. I’m guessing that‘s why you were standing out there like Edward outside Bella‘s bedroom window.”
“Will they turn me into a blueberry?” Sam asked wryly, determinedly ignoring the stalker comment. He couldn’t really defend himself against that. “Or will they turn my spit in seven different colors?”
Gabe didn’t answer. Sam turned to see why and saw the man staring at him. No actually, he was staring at something on Sam’s face. Oddly enough, Sam‘s face began to heat up under the stare. Sam opened his mouth to ask what was wrong.
“Hey, Gabriel?” one of the bakers shouted from the other side of the room. “Should it be bubbling like this?”
Gabriel’s honey brown eyes widened. “Uh oh.” He was gone before Sam could say another word.
Okay, that did not sound good. Sam started to follow him, figuring that since he’s the new boss, then he should probably inspect any possible explosions. It had nothing to do with wanting to be near the self proclaimed chocolate man.
And that was when Dean decided to burst into the room, severely pissed off and dragged Sam away.
~~~
“Fuck, what time is it?” Dean moaned, collapsing into John’s chair again the second they reached the office. Sam could already tell that Dean would be commandeering the chair every moment he got and resolved to buy a chair for himself as soon as possible. “Is the day over yet?”
“It’s barely two, Dean,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes. He was still a little miffed about being pulled away from Gabriel without the chance to say good bye. “You can take lunch if you want. Invite Castiel with to come with you so you two can ‘bond’.”
Dean’s reply came in the form of a bird.
“Hey, what happened to the tour.” Sam couldn’t believe he hadn‘t asked before. “Where’d Castiel go anyway?”
“We decided to go ‘our separate ways’.” Dean said, lowering his voice in a bad imitation of Castiel’s. “Since you ditched and Cas was freaking PMSing. Seriously dude, that was not cool.”
Which translated to Castiel deciding he didn’t want to take anymore of Dean’s bull shit and going back to do his job and now Dean was pouting about it. It didn’t escape Sam’s notice that Castiel had now been shortened to Cas. Dean had it bad.
“Sorry,“ Sam said insincerely. “Go take lunch. I’ll go over these papers and see if there’s a way we can force Dad to come back.”
Dean grumbled something but made no move to get up. Sam knew how his brother felt. He was feeling a little overwhelmed himself. And he couldn’t stop thinking about Gabriel. Or the fact that he and Dean were now the sole owners of the family business. Not just Gabriel.
“Well, look on the bright side.” he said, picking up the file Crowley had left.
Dean opened one eye.
“At least the day can’t get any worse.”
And that’s when the office door burst open.
Sam jumped to his feet immediately. Dean tried to follow, but jumping up when your feet are on the table is no easy feat. He recovered quickly, but not before both Sam and the stranger both saw the stumble.
“So, you’re John’s boys.” The stranger said, unimpressed, looking at Dean. “Clearly don’t take after your father much do you?”
Dean flushed an angry red. “Doesn’t anyone ever knock anymore? And who the hell are you?”
“Lucifer, of Morning Star Ice Cream.” The man introduced himself with a smirk. “We’re the ones that introduced the Armageddon to the world.”
“Never heard of you.” Dean said immediately.
“I’m not surprised.” Lucifer replied. “I wouldn’t have expected someone like you have sampled my ice cream.”
“Wait,” Sam interrupted with a frown. He‘d heard that name before. “Morning Star? As in the company that’s been trying to buy Angelic Company for the past four years?”
“Five,” Lucifer corrected. “But then, who’s counting?”
Dean’s eyes narrowed. Sam practically saw him shift into defensive mode. “So you’re the douche who’s been a pain in Dad’s ass. How the hell did you get in here?”
Lucifer shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by the outright hostility being directed at him. “You should fire your secretary. A few small compliments and here and there, she let me waltz right in.”
Unfortunately , Sam had no trouble imagining that. They probably would have to fire her, but this blond douche bag didn’t need to know that. “Here’s a better question, why are you here?”
Lucifer flopped onto the sofa that Sam had vacated. Sam took a few steps back, putting some distance between them. There was just something a bit unsettling about the man.
“You know, when I first heard of your daddy’s little company.” Lucifer purred, leaning back. “The last thing I expected was for it to be a chocolate factory. Though I have to admit, the company here is heavenly.”
He more or less sneered at Sam.
Sam couldn’t see his brother’s face at the moment, but he had no doubt it mirrored his own. What the fucking hell? Was this guy for real?
“If you’re not going to tell us why you’re here,” Dean said shaking off the creepiness before Sam. “Then leave”
“Hold your horses” The ice cream man said. “ I just want to offer a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Sam asked suspiciously.
“We’re not making any deals with some guy name after the freaking devil.” Dean snapped. “Get the hell out.”
Lucifer ignored him and spoke directly to Sam. “I can’t imagine that you’re too happy with this, Sam.” he said. “Having to drop your whole life just because Daddy decided to go vacation in the Bahamas.”
“I’m fine.” Sam said tightly.
“How about I take this company off your hands, hmm?” He continued as though he hadn’t heard Sam‘s denial. “You get to go back to your little old lives and AC gets an owner who actually has the experience to run her.”
“No.” Dean and Sam say immediately as one.
Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “Cute.”
Dean scowled. “You’ve got same balls, coming in here and demanding that we sell you our factory. Get the hell out before I knock your friggn’ balls off.”
Lucifer sighs as though Dean had severely disappointed him “And here I thought that you could get though one conversation like civilized folk without threats.” His eyes narrowed and suddenly the air around him seemed to chill. “Consider my offer carefully boys. I won’t make it again.”
“You can take you offer.” Dean said before Sam could more than open his mouth. “and stuff it where the sun don‘t shine, because we are not selling AC. Ever.”
Not as eloquently put as Sam would have said it, but it got the gist across.
“Leave.” He ordered, pulling out his cell phone. “Or I’m calling the police.”
Lucifer did not seem at all concerned by the threat, but he got off the sofa. “Well, I can see that I’m not wanted here. Call me if you change your minds. You know where to find me.”
“For the last time, We’re not selling AC.” Sam said firmly.
“Oh, you’ll say yes, Sam.” Lucifer said, with an oddly disturbing smile. “You were always going to say yes.”
And on that cryptic and ominous note, he exited the room.
“What the hell does that mean?” Sam asked, bemused. He turned to his brother His brother looked pissed which wasn’t surprising. No, the surprising part was the resolution in his eyes. It had been years since Sam last saw his brother that determined about anything.
“We are going to run this factory just as well Dad did.” Dean declared. “Hell, maybe even better.”
Sam wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or Sam, but he felt the exact same way.
PART 2