Chapter 1
Chapter Text
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Dean had stopped for coffee and donuts on his way from his day job to his side gig, and he regretted it the second he pulled into the lot outside the hangar. Maybe if heâd been ten minutes earlier, he wouldnât have had to park at the farthest end of the lot, almost into the neighboring hangarâs allotted parking. Those creepy bastards had had unauthorized vehicles towed in the past, and he didnât put it past them calling and giving him sh*t about it, at the very least. At least their front desk secretary recognized his car and would give him a heads up if one of the bigwigs gave her the order to have it removed. He gave Hannah a little grimace and a friendly wave, juggled the box of donuts and tray of coffee cups as he pointed to his car and set out for the front office at the Civil Air Patrol.
Since he wasnât aware of any full-scale mobilization-worthy natural disaster befalling the region in the last few hours, a full house meant it was either a testing day for the kids or an orientation day for a new crop of future pilots. Either way, it meant his afternoon was about to get a lot busier. Not with actual work, at least. No, heâd be expected to make small talk with parents, answer questions he usually didnât have good answers for, and generally be available to herd cats and keep any overenthusiastic parents from f*cking with his planes.
It was hot even for early September and heâd pulled off his uniform jacket when heâd left work. By all accounts he should be wearing it now, especially if heâd be expected to make at least a decent impression on the new recruits. But he could always run back out and grab it after he set down all the confections heâd brought along. It would give him an excuse to make sure the neighbors werenât trying anything funny with his car. The blue t-shirt he had on was still technically part of his uniform. Mostly.
Dean really loved this job, though. Even if it wasnât really a job, per se, since they didnât pay him anything for it. And he wouldnât have a career at all if it hadnât been for the gruff but encouraging support of his Uncle Bobby pushing him half his life to join the Air Force, to the eternal disappointment of his father whoâd always pushed for him to join the Marines. So Dean struck a compromise, and joined the Navy instead.
While Dean had less than zero desire to actually get in an airplane, his dadâs friend Bobby gave him an in to learn everything heâd need to know for a career in avionics. If other people insisted on flying planes, then they damn well needed people back on the ground who knew how to keep them from falling out of the sky. And after nineteen years, Dean was all but in charge of a vast number and variety of aircraft. At least that experience had finally gotten him to a point where he could have his pick of command.
Hilariously, Bobby had encouraged him to join the Civil Air Patrol as a teen because he thought learning everything that made planes tick might help Dean get over his fear of flying. Funny thing was, learning how to keep them aloft also taught him in minute detail just how many things could possibly go wrong, too. The three months he spent in flight school were great, until they actually made him fly a plane. So while that plan backfired, at least Dean had found a place for himself in the world that he could live with.
When heâd earned a promotion the previous year and his choice of a handful of postings, Dean chose to stay in Norfolk, just across the river from where Bobby was stationed at Langley and only an hour from where Sam had settled down as a professor of anthropology at William and Mary. In his spare time heâd also been single-handedly keeping the Civil Air Patrolâs small fleet skyworthy. It was the least he could do for Bobby. The fact that the majority of their pilots in training were kids about the same age he was when heâd first found his own calling didnât hurt, either. It was a great life, by all accounts.
Except when some idiot stole his reserved parking spot.
âOf course itâs some rich asshole, probably signing up their idiot kid to learn to fly on our nickel,â Dean grumbled as he passed by the shiny new Range Rover parked in his spot. âToo bad they canât even read.â
He glared at the little sign posted on the wall in front of the space that read RESERVED FOR CHIEF OF AVIONICS, and grumbled about why they even had the sign in the first place as he pushed open the door to the front office.
So, orientation day it was. Half a dozen teenagers stood around Bobby as he laid out the Civil Air Patrolâs history and mission. Dean only caught the end of the speech, but he knew it well. Heâd been hearing it since he was a kid, after all. He knew Bobby always started with his own history with the organization, the career that had grown from it, and finished up with a list of expectations for new cadets. That was typically where it became obvious if any of the new crop might be happier working in the hangar with Dean than up in the air, but so far this group at least seemed eager to earn their wings.
Dean sighed and strolled over to the front desk where a young woman in a sage green Navy flight uniform leaned against it watching the proceedings. He grabbed his coffee from the tray and offered her a cup as well. She raised an eyebrow at him, and leaned in to whisper at him so as not to distract from Bobbyâs speech.
âYou didnât put anything weird in these, did you?â
âIf a PSL is considered weird now, then yes, yes I did,â Dean replied.
She snorted and accepted the offering with a grin. âI always knew you were a basic bitch underneath all the flannel and denim.â
Dean grumbled back, âItâs fall. Nothing basic about being seasonally appropriate.â After a momentâs consideration and a glance down at his blue camo uniform, he grinned. âAnd I ainât got an inch of flannel or denim on anyway. Figured you probably werenât able to get through a drive through in your bird, at any rate.â
âThatâs actually thoughtful of you, Dean.â
âWhy do you always say that like youâre surprised?â Dean asked, but it wasnât really a question. He and Claire had been talking to each other like that for a decade now. What had started as a reluctant and rebellious teenager joining the Civil Air Patrol to spite her parentsâ expectation for her to join their family business had quickly developed into a friendship that had helped her blossom into the competent young woman she was today. Sheâd laughed her ass off when Dean had explained why a sailor was working for the CAP, but it had also guided her own career down a similar path. And the absolute f*ck you attitude that had set them on their chosen career paths and then brought them both back to Bobby had definitely served them both well in the Navy.
It had served Claire doubly well, when her estranged uncle had been convinced to write her a letter of recommendation to the Naval Academy, and the rest was history.
âIâm assuming the third cup is for the boss man,â Claire said, with a nod to it as Dean set the final cup on the desk and tossed the paper tray in the trash.
âYeah, forgot it was orientation day.â
The woman rolled her eyes as Bobby turned the entire groupâs attention to them.
âAnd that over there is Lieutenant Commander Claire Novak, one of our flight instructors,â Bobby said as Claire put her coffee down and stood at attention. âAnd beside her is Chief Petty Officer Dean Winchester, though you couldnât tell from looking at him.â
âSorry, Colonel. I came straight from the day job and havenât had a chance to buff and polish yet,â he said, giving Bobby a formal salute and then leaning back against the desk to resume enjoying his coffee.
Bobby turned back to the group after shooting him a withering look. âHe maintains all our equipment, and is the guy you want if youâve got any questions or concerns about it. Does anyone have any questions for any of us?â
One of the kids asked Bobby something about how long it would be before theyâd be allowed to fly, while one of the parents casually drifted over to where Dean and Claire were waiting. Dean could guess just by looking at the guyâs expensively tailored suit and matching pocket square that he was probably the owner of the Range Rover currently occupying his parking spot. Before Dean could even put his coffee down, he noticed a second manâ this one more of a henchman-looking dudeâ closely following Mr. Corporate.
âDean Winchester,â the man said, holding out a hand for Dean to shake. Dean just stood at attention, and assumed the guy had never served in any branch of the military. He glanced at Claire when no return of that handshake seemed forthcoming, and finally dropped it to his side. His smarmy grin never faded, though. â And Claire Novak. So what are a couple of Navy officers doing at an Air Force adjacent organization? A little interagency cooperation?â
âWeâre just a couple volunteers who owe as much to Bobby Singer as we do to the Navy,â Dean replied, letting the officer comment slide. He was just an enlisted dude, even if he had close to two decades of service under his belt. âSo, which oneâs yours?â Dean asked, pointing to the teens.
The man glanced over at them, still getting their questions answered by Bobby, with a slightly unsettled look before turning back to Dean and pasting the winning smile back on his face. âNone of them, Iâm afraid. My company just opened a new branch here at the airport, and we wanted to meet the neighbors. Of course we fully support our armed services, and feel like we can form a lucrative partnership with your organization.â
Dean snorted, but relaxed a little. He didnât need to put on a show for the suit. Especially when it was looking more and more likely this was the asshat whoâd stolen his parking space anyway. âYou got the wrong idea here, pal. This is an all volunteer service. We arenât in this for the money.â
The manâs eyes twinkled, and his grin turned predatory. âIâm fully aware, Chief Petty Officer Winchester. But we would like to offer any financial and other support that we can in the development and training of tomorrowâs aviation specialists. My company is expanding, and looking to the future is a core value at Richard Roman Enterprises.â
He said this last bit like it was supposed to be a surprising revelation to Dean and Claire. Of course they knew who Richard Roman was. It was impossible to be even tangentially involved with the aerospace industry in any capacity and not be aware of him. Heâd been pursuing contracts with the DoD for years, and was pushing the technological boundaries of military and civilian aircraft. By all personal accounts, if the U.S. Government hadnât partnered with him, he couldâve easily outfitted his own military branch himself. Within two minutes of meeting the guy, Dean had already realized that those rumors were probably true. He just exuded an aura of oily smarm that Dean had taken an instant dislike to, in an entirely self-preservational way.
Dean pasted on a smile of his own and nodded thoughtfully. He wasnât about to let on that heâd ever even heard of the guy, or made assumptions about who he was or why he might be interested in training up a private military incentivized to work for him when they completed their training. That was just way too shady for him to touch with a ten foot pole. He glanced at Claire, who awaited his reply with a raised eyebrow. She was technically the ranking officer between them, and if Roman knew anything at all he wouldâve been addressing her instead of him. Then again, maybe they were all just playing a game of trading minor insults. Dean didnât have the energy to participate in that game, though. He picked up his coffee, took a long drag of it, and then leaned back on the desk.
âWell, youâll have to talk with the Colonel about that, Mr. Roman,â Dean replied. âAs they say, we just work here.â
Romanâs grin drooped just a little, but he persisted, handing Dean and Claire each a business card. âIt's Dick. Please." He stood there grinning at Dean until he accepted his card, and then glanced back at Bobby. "Then I should probably come back when heâs not quite so busy,â he said, proving he understood military ranks just fine with a tilt of his head toward the crowd around Bobby. The grin reappeared in time to slip into his sleazy sales pitch persona that had probably earned him most of his big time deals. It just skeeved Dean out, but he played professional. What else was twenty years in the military good for if not maintaining a straight face through the most tedious bullsh*t?
âOur new division here is more focused on the civilian and commercial market, but we wanted to extend our friendship and resources to your program. If thereâs anything we can do to support you, or any resources we can offer you think might be beneficial to your recruits, we are absolutely open to a corporate partnership that could potentially be mutually rewarding.â
âAny sort of corporate sponsorship,â Claire said, finally exerting her seniority, âwould have to be cleared through legal channels, but we have your card, which Iâll pass along to Colonel Singer if youâre not interested in waiting. Orientation usually only lasts an hour or twoâŠâ she added, waving Romanâs business card between them and then deliberately setting it on top of Deanâs still-untouched box of donuts.
It was obvious by his reaction that Dick Roman had fully expected Dean and Claire to pull Bobby away to talk with him on the spot. He stared in disbelief for just a moment, and then put his winning smile back in place like this was of course entirely understandable.
âOf course. Iâll be back in my office just down the road at Roman Enterprises bright and early tomorrow morning when Colonel Singer is free to schedule a meeting.â
Heâd said it like he fully expected Bobby to be on the edge of his seat excited about making that call. Meanwhile, Dean was picturing Bobby tearing his business card in half and tossing it in the trash. Then again, no matter how slimy the guy was, he was richer than god and had resources and tech the Civil Air Patrol could only dream of. How much more effective could search and rescue missions be if they were outfitted with Romanâs latest generation LiDAR equipment? Or hell, even if the dude wanted to make a large financial contribution. That was a reality of running a nonprofit organization. You couldnât really afford to ignore a potential donor. Even if they were a dick.
Roman nodded at his henchman, who started toward the door. Roman himself held back, leaning in confidentially to Dean and Claire.
âYou two should hang on to those cards yourselves anyway. My R&D team is looking for a few knowledgeable consultants to call on when theyâve got exciting new gadgets to test. It really could be to your advantage to bear that in mind for the future.â
He gave them a final winning smile that looked just short of predatory, and walked swiftly to where his lackey was already holding the door for him. The silent lackey just gave them both a long look like he was daring them to do something that he could hold against them personally, and then let the door swing shut.
âWell that was weird,â Dean said, knocking the business card off his box of donuts and pulling out a chocolate one with rainbow sprinkles on it. He took one bite of the donut and then checked his watch. Dean bobbed his head back and forth through half a dozen ticks of the second hand and then pushed off the desk, heading toward the door. âHeâs probably gone by now. Iâm gonna go move my car.â
Claire didnât even have time to respond before he was out the door. Sheâd been too busy perusing the remaining donuts. Dean had been right, however. Roman was already gone. Sort of. Dean was just in time to watch him and his driver get out of the car at the building next door as he finished his donut and licked the frosting from his fingers.
âHuh, he wasnât joking about making the rounds and meeting the neighbors,â Dean muttered to himself as he got in his car.
Before he could back out, though, he saw Hannah hand Roman a stack of messages as he casually strolled through the lobby into the back offices like he owned the place. He considered just how strange that was, knowing the jerk whoâd run the place for years wouldâve had anyone just casually strolling into his offices like that ejected from the building, billionaire or not. It wasnât any of Deanâs business, so he finished moving his car, grabbed his jacket, and finally gave himself the buff and polish heâd promised Bobby and made his way back inside. It was still gonna be a long evening.
It was well over an hour later, after heâd given a tour of the hangar, a general overview of the Cessna-182 planes the CAP used, and then segued into a tour of the Sea Ranger helicopter Claire had flown in for that purpose, that heâd been able to hand over the rest of the program to her. He left the still-eager crowd of kids in her capable hands and trudged back to the office to see if Bobby had left him any of his own donuts.
He found Bobby sitting at the front desk eating a jelly donut and flipping Dick Romanâs business card over and over between his fingers, thoughtfully frowning at the wall.
âThat guy leaves quite an impression,â Bobby said, finally turning to Dean when he grabbed the last donut for himself. âEven when I was trying not to pay him any mind.â
Dean snorted and dragged a chair over from their small waiting area to sit across the desk from Bobby. He kicked his feet up on the desk with a groan and nodded in agreement.
âDick Roman,â Dean said around a bite. âCEO of Roman Enterprises, and slipperier than a hagfish.â
âI heard stories over the years,â Bobby replied, shaking his head and setting the card on the desk before leaning his elbows on it. âHe could talk his way into or out of anything. And unfortunately he makes some top of the line equipment, too. So what did he want with us?â
Dean shrugged, dropping his feet back to the floor. âSaid he opened a new branch of his company here and was extending a hand of friendship, or whatever. Community outreach, get to know the neighbors, who even knows what a dude like that keeps up his fancy Armani sleeves?â
Bobby snorted at that.
âSaid he was looking for some sort of partnership with us. Mutually beneficial was the term he used. No idea what he thinks he can get out of it, other than good PR.â
âProbably got some charity quota heâs gotta fulfill for the accounting department, and we lucked out by proximity. You know,â Bobby said, leaning in and dropping his voice a little. âRufus gave me a heads up on the guy skulkinâ around lately. Heâs got it on good authority that Wellman Air next door is just a subsidiary of one Romanâs side businesses anyway. Apparently heâs really looking to spread his wings all over this town.â
Dean snorted. âYeah, go figure. How many military bases we got in a twenty mile radius of here? This whole town is one big, ripe nest of government eggs for him to fry up for himself.â
âThatâs the thing, though, isnât it?â Bobby replied, looking extremely discontented with that line of thinking. âHeâs already got more government contracts than any ten other companies right now. Heâs got more money than any thousand people could spend in a lifetime, and runs in all the world power broker circles already. So why does he give even half a crap about us? Or bother with a penny-ante charter company based out of a second-tier airport?â
Dean sat back and let that mull around for a second. âHe went in Wellman after he left here, so that part of it I buy. I figured he was giving them the same welcoming himself to the neighborhood spiel he gave us, but he walked right in to Edgarâs office like he owned the place. If anyone else tried that, theyâd most likely to end up with their ass on a platter, so he probably does own the place.â
Dean let this new scenario play out in his mind, of cranky-ass Edgar ready to bite the head off anyone who dared stroll into his office uninvited only to get smacked down by his actual boss. His face went on a voyage through a series of little grins and frowns as he imagined how that would go. By the end, he wasnât even sure which of the two he was rooting for. Roman really hadnât impressed him much, and he had a long and antagonistic history with Edgar. Maybe theyâd both just devour each other and spare everyone else having to clean up the mess. Dean finally shook himself and got back to the point, and Bobby was still sitting there not paying him a whit of attention, deep in thought.
Dean sighed.
âSo whatâs a guy with a fleet of jets at the ready and connections to every branch of the military need a rinky dink charter company for? Thatâs what I wanna know.â
âTax write off, hobby, under the radar escape hatch if his business goes sideways or he pisses off the wrong politician? Who even knows what motivates the obscenely wealthy to do anything?â Bobby replied, and then sighed as he tossed the card to the desk and stood up. âBut I guarantee if HQ gets word that I turned down a meeting with a potential donor that big, theyâd have my ass. I guess Iâll call him in the morning and see what he wants.â
Dean stood up as well, and stretched as the new cadets filtered back into the office. He leaned in as Bobby walked by to give his little closing address to them.
âJust take everything he offers with a huge sack of salt.â
Bobby snorted. âYeah, weâll need that to clean up the oil slick he leaves in his wake.â
He grinned at Dean, patted him on the shoulder and made his way over to the kids. Dean finally headed out into the hangar to see if any of the planes needed his attention, but he was beginning to think the night was turning into a wash. It was only a part-time gig after all. It was just a run of the mill Thursday, and heâd already handled most of his inspection duties while introducing the kids to the planes. The only out of place thing he found on his final walkthrough was one wayward helicopter pilot, sitting at his workbench typing intently on her phone.
âYouâre still here,â Dean said as he signed off on his inspection forms and hung the clipboard from the peg above the desk. âWhen the cadets came back inside without you, I figured youâd taken off for home like some sort of grand finale at a fireworks show.â
Claire shrugged, but didnât stop her typing. âI took them up for a short ride and brought them back. They didnât need to see that from the ground to figure out how it worked.â
Dean frowned at her back. Heâd been all ready to call it a night and head home, and he didnât want to pry, but this was still really uncharacteristic for Claire and he was concerned. His long-repressed parental gene reared its ugly head, clicking itself on before he even had a chance to consider ignoring it.
âEverything okay with you?â
Claireâs shoulders tensed up, like she was debating just throwing all her shields up, and just like Dean himself usually did, had to fight against that instinct even after years of friendship with him. She sighed, slowly turning around on the shop stool and waggling her phone in his direction.
âYeah, I think so. I just got some messages I wanted to reply to before I took off again. Figured Iâd get more privacy out here than in there with Bobby.â She gave Dean a pointed look, but then shook her head and smiled at him. âYou know my cool uncle? The one who got me into Annapolis?â
âDonât sell yourself short, kiddo. You got yourself into Annapolis. Your uncle just put in a good word.â
Claire snorted. âYeah, a good word from a past valedictorian is practically a golden ticket, though.â
Dean shook his head. âAnd heâs supposed to be your cool uncle?â
Claire rolled her eyes at him, and Dean quit his teasing. From what he knew of the guy, he really did sound pretty cool. For one, he was the only member of Claireâs family who supported her chosen career path.
âCas, right?â
Claire nodded. âHeâs been stationed at Pax River my entire adult life, but apparently, surprise, guess where heâs just been transferred to?â
Dean put a finger to each temple and squeezed his eyes closed. âDonât tell me, itâs coming to meâŠ. just give it a secondâŠâ He opened one eye and looked at her, waiting for her to spit it out, just in time to see her hand reach out and smack his hands away from his face. It did have the intended effect of getting her to smile, at least, so for Dean it was already a win.
âYouâre an idiot,â she said, then paused to send one last message before pocketing her phone.
âSo is he moving to Norfolk just to step on your toes personally, or is that just a fun little side benefit for him?â Dean asked, actually genuinely curious about the guy heâd heard so much about over the years. If he was moving to the base, it was almost a guarantee that Dean would finally meet the mysterious test pilot instructor. It was in his own self-interest to be prepared for that eventuality.
Claire rolled her eyes, as predicted, and started heading toward the door out to the field where her ride was waiting for her. âHe got promoted, and decided he was down for something a little more laid back than training test pilots. Theyâre putting him in charge of flight operations at Chambers.â
Dean nodded, understanding. âYeah, I heard Rufus is finally retiring.â
âI still canât get over the fact youâve never been dressed down for calling Admiral Turner by his first name, even when youâre on duty.â
Dean squirmed a little at that. âYeah, well, Iâve known the guy since I was a kid, same as Bobby. And I never call him Rufus when anyone who doesnât know that is around.â A grin spread across his face. âJust you wait, youâll have the same trouble with Captain Uncle Cas, too.â
Claire made a face at that. âThat just sounds wrong, yeah.â
âSo when do I get to meet him?â
âFirst thing in the morning,â Claire said, checking her phone again, but there were no more messages so she finally stood up to leave. âHeâs flying down now, and if I donât hurry back to base, heâs gonna beat me there.â
Dean made a patronizing noise of concern. âBetter hurry then. I gotta take the long way home and hope thereâs no traffic.â
She was almost to the door, and then turned back to him. âOh, and just so you know, your brother was on the local news tonight. I caught the tail end of it right before I headed over here. Forgot to mention it when Dick showed up.â
âThey didnât arrest him for something did they? Is being a nerd a criminal offense now?â
âNah, something about some archaeological dig somewhere in the middle east. Apparently some of the artifacts theyâre uncovering are getting shipped to his department. Cool sh*t, sounds like. But maybe you wanna call him and make fun of him for being a super nerd again.â
âYeah, yeah, Iâll get on it eventually. We were supposed to meet for dinner tomorrow night anyway. Thanks for the fresh material to use against him.â
Claire gave him a friendly wave, and then headed out. Dean packed it in, too. Everything was as ship shape as it ever was, and there really was nothing else for him to do. Barring some sort of emergency, he wouldnât even need to come back until Tuesday at the earliest. That was probably for the best. Claire was glad her uncle was coming to town, but the news made Deanâs skin prickle. It was always tough breaking in a new boss. But probably especially one whoâd spent his career dealing with top in their class pilots and pushing them to their limits.
He shut off the lights and made his way out to his car for the long ride home.
Chapter 2
Chapter Text
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Dean arrived at work bright and early the next morning, expecting to have a little time to get ready before Captain Novak was due to make a general inspection with Rufus in advance of handing over the reins to him. Unfortunately for Dean, he was a little too late for that. He walked into his office to find Rufus sitting in his chair, having a cup of his coffee. That in itself wasnât surprising, but the fact he was sharing a cup while having a chat with the illustrious and storied Captain Novak was. Dean was so entirely caught off guard he almost forgot to salute as Rufus got to his feet.
âChief Winchester, we werenât expecting you in for another half hour or so,â Rufus said as Captain Novak stood up and turned around to be introduced and saluted. Dean was grateful to Rufus for babbling on for a bit before getting to business, because the second Dean saw the manâs face he lost the power of speech. âCaptain Novak wanted to know where to get the best cup of coffee on base, so of course I led him straight to your office. Captain Novak, this is Chief Petty Officer Dean Winchester, mechanic extraordinaire and keeper of primo coffee beans.â
Dean managed another salute, which Novak returned.
âItâs a pleasure to meet you, Chief Winchester,â Cas said, looking just as knocked off balance as he shook himself off as Dean felt. âI understand weâll be working closely together.â
Since Dean was standing there rather dumbly nodding back at him, Rufus broke the tension by clearing his throat and sitting back down at Deanâs desk.
âCaptain Novak will be shadowing me for the next few days, and then taking over full time by the end of next week,â Rufus said. âThough Iâm sure you donât need me teaching you the ropes on how an airfield runs.â
Novak let out a little huff of a laugh at that. âHopefully not. Though it is a new working environment, and the transition can be difficult for everyone involved. Itâs well known youâre a beloved leader to your crew, and filling those shoes is never easy. Though the excellent coffee doesnât hurt,â he added, taking his seat and toasting Dean with his cup.
Dean just stood there looking at Novakâs shoes before finally shaking himself off and noticing the apologetic smile on his new bossâs face falter just a little. Novak glanced at Rufus before looking back at Dean.
âI hope we havenât overstepped, invading your space like thisâŠâ
âNo, sir. My door is always open for anyone who needs it,â Dean finally managed, starting to feel like a human being and not a walking x-ray scan. Novak was still staring at him, though, and he knew he must be making a terrible impression. He pulled himself together and stood up a little straighter. âEven if they just need a decent cup of joe.â
âWell, Winchester, since youâre here, would you mind going through morning inspection with the Captain?â Rufus asked, after it was clear that Dean and Cas would otherwise just continue to stare at each other if left to their own devices.
Dean was doubly grateful that heâd already stopped for breakfast on his way in and hadnât brought it with him to eat at his desk. He dropped his gear bag beside his desk and grabbed the inspection roster off the shelf beside the door.
âReady when you are, Captain. One fifty cent tour, coming right up.â
Rufus grinned at him, and Dean smirked back at him.
âChief Winchester is the very model of efficiency, Captain.â
Dean even managed another salute as they stood up, and Rufus laughed at him for it and patted him on the shoulder as he headed for the door.
âYou got this, right Dean?â Rufus said, turning back in the doorway. âCaptain Novak knows Iâve got a teleconference with Bobby in about fifteen minutes, and I figured I could leave him in your capable hands for an hour or so.â
âSince when has calling Bobby evolved into teleconferencing?â
Rufus grumbled out a sigh. âSince Dick Romanâs riding both our asses⊠Iâm sure heâll fill you in on all the gory details. But we want to make sure all our mutual basesâ literallyâ are covered.â
âYeah,â Dean said. âThat guy crashed our cadet orientation meeting last night. Heâs slipperier than a barrel of vaseline.â
Rufus nodded approvingly at that assessment. âThen youâre already more up to speed on the situation than I am. Other than knowing that heâs been trying to recruit me to come work for him as soon as I blow this popsicle stand.â
Dean sucked in a breath through his teeth. âYeah, that doesnât sound like a relaxing retirement.â
Rufus laughed and turned around to head back to his own office. âNo it really does not. Iâll be back as soon as I can.â
âYes, sir,â Dean replied and watched him walk down the hall for a moment before remembering there was still someone in his office. A superior officer who just watched him and Rufus chatting like old pals instead of officer and subordinate. Once again, Dean was caught just standing and staring dumbly at Captain Novak as he finished his coffee and tossed the cup in the trash.
âThank you for the coffee, Chief Winchester. It was excellent. I suppose we should be getting on with that inspection now?â
Once again, Dean was taken aback by his new bossâs casual address. And by the fact that he was now standing right in front of him, looking right into his eyes. And Novak had eyes that would make a summer sky jealous. At least Novak seemed to recognize his discomfort, and almost immediately smiled and relaxed a bit.
âYou should know that Rufus was my first training officer, and Iâm very much looking forward to stepping into a role where I can adopt his⊠letâs call it a refreshing approach to leadership. Training test pilots required a level of rigor and intense professionalism that Iâm rather relieved to finally leave behind. And I hope youâll bear with me until it again feels natural to address those under my command as if theyâre people and not just their rank.â
âYeah, well, sure. Probably for the best to keep test pilot trainees on their toes, but around here we do important work, but weâre also family. Rufus keeps us on our toes when we need it, but he also trusts us to do our jobs,â Dean said.
And then for no reason at all, he started talking to Novak like a long-trusted confidant, and not as the new boss he met not ten minutes earlier. It was almost unsettling to Dean how quickly heâd assessed this man as safe and just begun yammering at him. To his credit, Novak listened intently, nodding along seriously at all the right moments. It affirmed Deanâs gut reactions about him.
âIâve known Rufus since I was a kid,â Dean started. âSince my dad had me calling him Uncle Rufus. Iâm only here today because of him and Bobby Singer, whoâs currently stationed up at Langley. The two of them ganged up on me to join the Civil Air Patrol thinking it would help me get over my fear of flying.â Dean snorted out a laugh at that and shook his head. âDumb bastards didnât realize that learning the intricate details of how many ways a plane could f*ck up might make me twice as paranoid about it. But it did make me want to learn everything I could to keep anyone nuts enough to want to leave the ground as safe as they possibly could be.â
Dean waved the clipboard in his hand with all the safety checklists for that morningâs inspections for Novak to see.
âNo offense, sir.â
Novak gave him an understanding smile. âNone taken. Iâve been regularly informed throughout my career that I might be just a little nuts.â
Dean snorted, pulling up short, and shaking his head at his boss. He was beginning to realize that he could probably stand there all day trading quips with Novak, but they had a full day of work to tackle, and it wasnât gonna go any quicker having to explain everything to Novak on top of actually getting the work done.
âRufus trusts me without question, because he knows I would never let anything stand in front of doing the job right, not even if weâre just shooting the sh*t about our family.â
Novak nodded seriously, as if he somehow recognized the level of trust that Dean had extended to him by sharing that with him. Like he wanted to make sure Dean understood that he got it, and intended to work with him and not just play boss to him.
âI agree that care for our fellow sailors is our first priority,â Novak replied. âEvery pilot we send out is entrusting their lives to us, and we owe them the highest regard for that.â
He considered what Dean had said for another moment, and then relaxed into the same posture Dean had taken with him.
âYou know, you and Rufus are a big part of the reason I was relieved when my niece was stationed here. And the entire reason I asked for this command myself.â
âClaire Novak, right?â Dean asked. âYeah, sheâs a great kid. Met her back when she just started at the CAP, and was kinda hoping sheâd decide to take the ground crew route for purely selfish reasons.â
Novak actually laughed at that, and then shook his head fondly. âI tried to convince her that was just as noble a calling as being a flight instructor, but unfortunately that lesson never stuck with her. She has always wanted to fly.â
âAnd sheâs one of the few pilots Iâd let take me up in the air,â Dean replied, turning toward the door and hoping Novak would just follow him out to the hangar. âBut maybe donât tell her I said that, or Iâll never hear the end of it until I actually do, and that just ainât gonna happen.â
Novak just shook his head, stunned. âYou mean all these years working with aircraft, sending countless pilots up, youâve never been up in the air yourself? Never got over that fear of flying?â
Dean stopped in the hallway just outside his door and turned back. âUh, look, I got a â67 Impala I really donât get to drive enough as it is. Where the hell do I need to get that fast anyway? Last flight I took was in Afghanistan, and I really donât need to relive that experience. Iâll stick to big boats and big cars, thanks.â After a moment he tacked on, âNo offense, Captain.â
âNone taken,â Novak replied, and Dean nodded and led him out into the hangar.
Dean opened the door for him and waved Novak through, watching his reaction to the space that Dean considered his own. Itâs where he spent the vast majority of his time, after all, and did some of his most important work. He was mildly relieved when the Captain apparently found it up to snuff. The manâs shoulders relaxed as he looked around, contented like he was pleased with everything he saw. He ran a hand over the Sea Dragon Dean had started working on the day before like he was concerned for a sick child in his care, and nothing couldâve endeared Dean to him more in that moment. At least until Novak expressed what was probably just idle curiosity, even if Dean had no idea what to do with it.
âI suppose weâre lucky, then, that you didnât take your obvious skill and care for your work and apply it to marine mechanics, or a motor pool somewhere.â Novak made a fist with the hand heâd been touching the helicopter with and turned back to Dean with an apologetic smile.
Dean was left blinking at him, as if those options had never even occurred to him. âYeah, well, I guess I just know and care about enough pilots it seemed the thing to do, you know? Car breaks down, you can get out and tow it. Boat breaks down, you can just float there until itâs fixed. But this baby breaks down?â Dean said, pointing at the Sea Dragon, an absolute beast of a helicopter, and then shooting a smirk back at Novak. âWell letâs just say your options are pretty much reduced to burial at sea and cleaning up the debris field. And itâs my job to keep that from happening at all.â
Dean didnât wait to see Novakâs response to that and just started down his morning inspection checklist. If a pilot couldnât reckon with a thought like that after more than twenty years of flying then there was nothing more Dean could say anyway. He headed down to the far end of the hangar and the F18 that had been brought in the night before that was next on his service list after he finished with the Sea Dragon. Eventually Novak caught up with him as he was reading off the list of required maintenance and planning out the rest of his day.
Dean had almost forgotten he was supposed to be playing host to his new boss, too. At least until Novak cleared his throat and sent Dean practically jumping out of his boots.
âDude, weâre gonna have to get you a bell or something,â Dean said, awkwardly trying to cover up his even more awkward startle response. Novak was just staring at him like he was the most fascinating piece of equipment in the building, and Dean had absolutely no idea what to do with that feeling, so as usual he just shoved it down to be examined in the event of a catastrophic engine failure over open water.
âYes, well,â Novak replied, looking just as out of sorts as Dean felt. âConsidering that I donât currently have an official command at the moment, and I mostly feel like Iâm simply underfoot for you until Rufus is finished with his meeting, perhaps I could be useful to you somehow?â
Dean blinked at him a few times, and a series of increasingly inappropriate thoughts on just how Captain Novak could make himself useful to him in that moment played out inside his mind. He shook himself off and mentally stomped on that line of thinking before it could actually get him into trouble. This is your new boss, dumbass, not goddamn fantasy fodder. Keep it together, Winchester.
âI mean,â Novak said, looking far more casual than any boss Dean had ever had, including Rufus. âIf thereâs anything I can do to be of assistance more directly, rather than just being a burden for you to entertain for the next hour or two?â
âUhhh,â was all Dean could manage to reply as he tore his eyes from Captain Novakâs and headed over to set his clipboard down on top of his tool cart.
Novak followed him, though, trying to explain himself better and not having much more luck with words than Dean had.
âI just meant that just because Iâm a pilot, Iâm not totally useless in the hangar. Iâd be happy to play mechanicâs assistant.â After a momentâs pause as Dean pointedly opened a few drawers in the tool chest idly looking for the right wrench that had already been conveniently set on top of the cart the night before. âWhatever you need, handing you tools, even. So you donât feel like this is an inspection or my presence here isnât any more intrusive than it has to be.â
Dean finally looked back up at the man, who looked entirely out of sorts, like he firmly believed that he was invading Deanâs space or somehow interfering in his work. It was honestly refreshing, if not a little bit baffling in a superior officer.
âHuh. Gotta say, youâre my first commanding officer in nearly two decades in the Navy to ever admit he was trying to step on my toes.â
Novak looked horrified at that, and held up both hands. âNo! Actually, Iâm doing my bestâ and apparently failingâ to do the opposite! You know far better than I ever will how to do your own job. I think youâll find, once I am actually your boss, that I put my entire faith in the people who report to me. And I can only hope that they would do the same for me.â
Dean studied the man for a moment, and knew he was telling the truth. It boded very well indeed for their future working relationship. Because once again, Dean had to remind himself that however desperate he might be to strike up any other sort of relationship with Captain Novak, the man was still technically his boss, and could still have him booted for insubordination, or worse. Yeah, it was definitely best to get all those weird feelings bottled up and stowed in the deep freeze before they got out of hand.
Without breaking eye contact, Dean handed him a wrench and the new oil filter for the helicopter.
âJust hand me these when I ask for them, I guess.â Dean picked up the big socket wrench and spun it in his hand like a party noisemaker and raised an eyebrow at Novak. âUnless you wanna give it a go yourself?â
Novak laughed at that, a low and dark sound that went right to the core of Deanâs being. He repressed a shudder and turned sharply on his heel just in case his face was doing something inappropriate. Yeah, his new boss might be as chill and easygoing as Rufus ever was, but that in no way meant that it was gonna make Deanâs life any easier.
âI believe Iâll leave the actual work in your capable hands, Chief Winchester.â
Dean sighed and set to work. It was gonna be a long, trying day.
Chapter 3
Chapter Text
âïž
It was mercifully less than an hour before Rufus returned to retrieve him. Dean had been a gracious and welcoming host, and Cas felt heâd already burdened the man enough. He was also unfortunately captivating and charming, and almost impossibly attractive, none of which were qualities that a superior officer should be concerned with in his subordinates.
As he watched Dean work, mesmerized by his skill and ability to carry on an amusing conversation without letting it interfere with the job he was doing, Cas occasionally found himself just staring dumbly at him. He also had no idea if the friendly glances that Dean was casting at him revealed the fact Dean had caught him staring, or if the familiar warmth he projected was just a general personality trait of Deanâs. Chief Winchester, Cas repeatedly had to mentally correct himself just to remind himself that Dean was his subordinate, his employee, and not a social acquaintance.
It wasnât an easy task.
âCastiel, there you are,â Rufus said, strolling into the hangar like it was his domain, which it still technically was for a few more days. He pointed at the wrench that Cas had all but forgotten he was still holding. âHas Dean already put you to work? You gotta be careful, or heâll sweet talk you into spending half the afternoon in here.â
âNot like anyone ever complained about having to endure my sparkling charm,â Dean replied without even pulling his head out of the engine compartment he was working in. He emerged a moment later and saluted Rufus with a greasy hand, leaving an oddly adorable black smudge on his forehead. âCastiel?â Dean added, looking a little confused as he glanced between Cas and Rufus.
âThatâs my name,â Cas replied. âI think Rufus is the only person on the planet who actually uses it.â
Dean snorted. âClaire only ever calls you Uncle Cas. So apologies in advance if I ever do the same.â
âWash your hands before you salute next time, Winchester,â Rufus said, tossing him a shop rag to wipe his face as he walked past Dean with a sigh. âAnd do not refer to Captain Novak as Uncle Cas. At least not anywhere I can hear you.â
âSo did Bobby ever figure out what Dick Roman wanted from him?â Dean asked as he wiped the grease from his forehead and hands.
Rufus turned back to him with a little eye roll in Casâs direction along the way. âHe apparently already filled in your brother on everything before he called me. And since the two of you have Winchester family bonding hour tonight, thatâll give you something to talk about over dinner, right?â
All of this was news to Cas. Dean had talked practically nonstop for the last hour and mentioned his brother a couple of times, but not in the context of military matters. The fact that Bobby had shared information about military business with him before even meeting with Rufus about it was certainly interesting. Cas supposed he was about to get filled in on everything shortly, at any rate.
Dean just laughed. âYeah, like I can ever get the sasquatch to shut up as it is. Remind me to thank Bobby for giving him even more to hold over me when he already has his little research project making the six oâclock news.â
Cas just stood there feeling mildly confused while Rufus laughed and Dean grumbled his way back to work. Rufus didnât make him wait long, though.
âCome on, Cas. Let me show you to your office and Iâll get you up to speed on how the rest of this place runs day to day. I think weâve bothered Dean enough for now.â
âItâs never a bother, sir,â Dean replied, though Cas was weirdly convinced that Dean was looking at him instead of at Rufus.
âThatâs good to know,â Cas said. âAnd thank you for the coffee this morning.â
Dean smirked at that. âMy coffee maker is always open for business, Captain.â
âHe really means that, Castiel. Heâs not just saying it to be polite. Still not sure he knows the meaning of the word polite,â Rufus said, turning back toward the door. âI suppose we should get down to business. I swear you will get used to Winchester eventually.â
Cas just nodded sort of dumbly at Chief Winchester as he waved one hand absently back in their direction and then dove back into his work. When the hangar door shut behind them and Cas finally caught back up to Rufus, heâd had just enough time to recover from whatever strange spell Dean had cast over him. He truly hoped Rufus was right, that it was even possible to get used to Dean Winchester at all.
âSo what I gather from my morning experiences is that your unit doesnât stand on formality and protocol.â
Rufus stopped dead in his tracks and turned on his heel so fast that Cas almost bumped into him. âI know you arenât familiar with our routines around here yet, Captain, but this unitâs safety record is above reproach. My team is second to none, and every last one of them cares about nothing more than every pilot who takes off from this base returning in the same condition they left in. I trust every member of this team with my life, and so does every pilot who flies in or out of here, every single day. That is not something we take lightly. Iâd rather never be saluted or yes sirâed for the rest of my career than force Dean to drop what heâs doing and perform some pointless ritual. Maybe that wouldnât fly in most of the Navy, but in my hangar, the job comes first. Always.â
âYes, sir,â Cas replied reflexively, but then gave Rufus an apologetic smile. âHabit, sorry.â
Rufus grinned at him and then broke into laughter, slapping Cas on the shoulder and pushing him toward his new office. âDonât worry, thereâs still a time and place for it. Donât lose the hang of sucking up to whoever needs sucking up to. Which reminds me. You should be aware of whatâs going down with Roman Enterprises. Apologies in advance, because youâre not gonna like it one bit.â
đ„ïž
After work, Dean swung by his place and got cleaned up before heading out toward Williamsburg for his dinner with Sam. As tempted as he was to stop by Bobbyâs to get the update on whatever Dick Roman was so bothered to talk to him about, he knew from Rufusâs tone that he was supposed to get this particular bit of info from Sam. For some reason he had yet to understand. He probably wouldâve spent more time trying to figure it out for himself if he hadnât been so completely distracted thinking about his new boss.
It wasnât Claireâs fault that she never bothered to mention her uncle would be one of the most attractive people Dean had ever laid eyes on. Or that he was quietly hilarious and genuinely one of the nicest people Dean had met in ages. Or most importantly, that as his commanding officer heâd be entirely off limits socially, outside of whatever interactions heâd allow at work. It was both exhilarating and depressing, and Dean couldnât stop playing what if scenarios in his imagination, if they had met under any other circ*mstances.
He sighed and cranked up the radio as he pulled into town and headed for the restaurant where Sam had wanted to meet. At least they had a satisfactory selection of pie on the menu for him to console himself with. Luckily, by the time heâd fought through traffic and found a parking spot, Sam had already gotten them a table.
âSorry Iâm late, I guess tourist season is in full swing here, huh?â Dean said, waving a finger around the crowded dining room.
Sam gave a little shrug and glanced up from the menu. âItâs always tourist season here, Dean. And youâre not late. I just figured it would be easier to get through dinner and get back to my place.â He gave a shifty glance around the room and then leaned across the table toward Dean and dropped his voice. âI gotta tell you what Bobby told me this afternoon, and I donât think it needs an audience.â
âAw, sh*t,â Dean said, squirming in his seat a little and picking up his own menu. âKnew I shoulda swung by Bobbyâs on the way here.â
Sam shook his head and gave a little laugh. âIâm sure youâll survive another hour of not knowing.â
Dean grumbled, but accepted his fate. He had other things to talk about anyway. âSpeaking of not knowing things, you gotta tell me what you were doing on the local news last night. I had to hear about that one from Claire. Between all the drama last night and trying to make a good impression on my new boss today, I havenât had a chance to go digging for it.â
Sam opened his mouth to answer when the waitress came over to take their order. By the time she left them, Sam was already trying to redirect.
âNew boss, Claireâs uncle, right? The flight instructor dude who got her into Annapolis?â
âYeah,â Dean started, but he was absolutely not prepared to discuss anything about Captain Castiel Novak with his brother yet. He had a lot of increasingly complicated feelings about the guy that were only compounded by an hour worth of quality fantasizing about him over the drive to Williamsburg. He took a sip of his beer and adjusted himself in the seat and was more than a little grateful that Sam had them seated in a booth. He cleared his throat and redirected again. âDonât try to change the subject. So what did you do that was local news worthy? I assume it wasnât criminal since youâre still out walking around.â
Sam blushed and looked down at the table as he nervously arranged his silverware. âIt was the national news, actually. I did the round at the morning shows today. Guess it was a slow news day?â he added with an awkward laugh.
Dean, however, practically beamed at him. Not just because Sam had finally succeeded in shoving the mental image of inquisitive blue eyes and strong, capable hands to the back of his mind.
âSo you finally got to the bottom of human history? Find the missing link?â
Sam rolled his eyes at the long-running and not at all funny bit that Dean had been using since Sam first announced his intent to study anthropology instead of joining the military like pretty much everyone else in the family. Dean was inordinately proud of him for that, for standing up to their father in ways he himself had never even dared to. Sure, Dean chose the Navy over his fatherâs beloved Marines, but it still fell under the broad umbrella of acceptable Winchester family career paths. Sam had just up and chosen to do his own thing from the start, and then soared right to the top of his field.
Sam just ignored Dean, and as usual was encouraged to stop trying to minimize his achievements. He just laid it all out plain for Dean, without all the wishy-washy self-deprecation he had a tendency to wallow in if Dean let him.
âRemember when I went to Iraq last year to consult with an archaeologist excavating at Ur?â
Dean nodded, not willing to derail with a joke about Sam still not being able to remember the name of the place heâd visited now that heâd gotten his brother talking.
âWell, my input apparently helped uncover the location of a buried library containing thousands of stone tablets and other artifacts. Itâs a pretty exciting discovery, possibly some of the earliest samples of written language ever discovered. Some of them are so obscure that weâre not even sure theyâre possible to decipher, but theyâve called on me to help.â
âOf course they did,â Dean replied, entirely unsurprised. Sam was really getting into it now, and couldnât contain his excitement if he tried.
âOne of my grad students, Kevin Tran, is escorting the largest display of archaic Sumerian tablets, and a wealth of other discoveries back to my lab. Weâre going to scan them all with the new equipment the university was given this year to create perfect 3D models to study, and then the entire exhibit is going on a thirteen city tour of the US, and then on to Europe, while a suitable museum can be built in Baghdad for their permanent home. Itâs, uhâŠâ Sam finally tapered off, rubbing the back of his neck with a return of the bashful smile. âItâs a pretty big deal.â
Dean just nodded with a satisfied grin. âSo maybe you did find some sort of missing link. The beginning of written language is a pretty big deal. I mean, what would album liner notes be without it?â
Their food arrived shortly after that, while their conversation stayed largely on the details of Samâs new project. Dean had to reluctantly admit it was all pretty fascinating stuff. Until Sam started dodging questions about what exactly he was scanning everything with, and looking around uneasily at the neighboring tables. Dean could take a hint. When Dean had finished his pie and theyâd paid the bill, he followed Sam back to his house to settle in for the real meat of their discussion.
He really wanted to know what Sam himself was holding back about his big achievement in international diplomacy and his high tech archaeology machine. So there was more than one big mystery for Dean to get to the bottom of now that they werenât sitting in a crowded restaurant. Since Dean was off for the weekend and figured heâd just be crashing at Samâs that night and not driving all the way back to base, he accepted Samâs offer of another beer and made himself comfortable on the sofa.
âSo, what werenât you telling me back there?â Dean asked before Sam could even sit down in his favorite chair.
Sam grimaced at him as he kicked his shoes off and finally sat. He took a long sip of his drink, and then shook his head.
âThereâs a hell of a lot going on with Dick Roman in my life all of a sudden,â Sam started off with, earning a look of surprise from Dean.
âI figured youâd start with your chicken scratch rocks, but whatever floats your boatââ
Sam cut him off, leaning forward in his chair. âIâm talking about my chicken scratch rocks, actually.â He rubbed a hand over his forehead and down his face. âI guess I need to start from the beginning here.â
âJust so you know, I have never been on the edge of my seat waiting for you to tell me about Dick before.â
Sam rolled his eyes and otherwise pretended Dean hadnât said anything, and got right into his story.
âI met with Dick Roman about a month ago, actually. All very hush-hush, the university insisted on my cooperation with him, and on my silence about it all. His company is developing new scanning tech and he wanted my department to experiment with the prototype.â
Deanâs eyebrows went up. âNot sure whether to be proud of you for that, or worried for you after I met the guy last night.â
âYeah,â Sam agreed. âHeâs like a slug in human form.â
Dean nodded agreement. âBut with sharp teeth. Maybe claws. The guy is just f*cking wrong somehow.â
âIâm glad itâs not just me,â Sam said, finally slumping back in his chair and taking another drink before going on. âSo my boss insists I have to work with him, because it could be extremely lucrative for the department over the long term, and might lead to breakthroughs in how we study the development of language. Roman had also been in touch with the crew on the ground in Iraq, and it was through him that we landed the exchange program deal thatâs bringing that whole cache of antiquities to the states in the first place. When I talked to my contact there to thank him for the opportunity to examine everything in my lab, he gave me the impression that he also hadnât really had a choice in the matter. Apparently his entire digâs funding had come through a grant made by Dick Roman, too.â
âIs there anything that guy isnât trying to leave his fingerprints all over?â
Sam shrugged. âApparently not. Roman had been insisting on flying the artifacts here in his private jet, but thatâs where the American consulate in Iraq put his foot down. Everythingâs being brought in on a Navy cargo vessel instead.â Sam snorted and laughed with a considering look of admiration. âApparently that was the one thing Khalil, my colleague on site, was able to leverage against Roman. He gave a tour of the dig site to the culture minister in Baghdad, and short of creating an international incident, Roman had to back off and cede transport to more official channels.â
âHuh,â Dean said. âSurprised he hasnât come poking around Norfolk yet, then. I assume thatâs where the delivery will happen. And he seems to have his nose in all over the air force already.â
âOh, heâs tried,â Sam said. âHe heard Rufus was retiring and offered up a personal list of recommendations for his replacement. Far as I know, the Secretary of the Navy politely just appointed the best qualified candidate anyway. But Roman, heâs apparently been trying to hire Rufus as a consultant.â
âYeah, he mentioned something about that today, but he didnât seem to think it was that serious an offer,â Dean said, feeling strangely disappointed in that fact his brother got that bit of news before he did.
âHey, I only heard about it from Bobby this morning. Apparently Rufus laughed in Romanâs face and told him he was retiring, which meant not working anymore.â
âYeah, that sounds like Rufus.â
âBut when Roman poked his head in at the Civil Air Patrol to generously offer his support to Bobby last night, turns out what he really wanted was to try and recruit Bobby himself,â Sam said, baffled. âSo why is he suddenly desperate to have every high ranking military member in my personal orbit on his payroll?â
âWait, you think this is all about you?â Dean asked, raising a critical eyebrow at his brother. âThe dudeâs been practically building his entire business around the military for decades. You could probably find a dozen people at Norfolk and Langley heâs tried to recruit. Probably more.â
âHeâs also been buying up every aviation company in the area he can get his hands on, and every shipyard too. Itâs like heâs setting up a shadow navy for his own purposes.â Sam cringed a little at that. âOr maybe Iâve just been reading too much sci fi lately. Whatever.â
Dean sat back and considered all that for a minute, and finished his beer.
âOkay, then, but none of it explains why heâs suddenly interested in secretly funding a bunch of archaeological studies in Iraq.â
Sam actually shrugged. âI just assumed he was using all of that as cover to smuggle something out of the country. High profile international delivery of incredibly valuable archaeological treasures? If heâd brought it in on his own plane, itâs not like customs was gonna pull the whole thing apart looking for contraband, you know?â
âSure, but itâs all coming courtesy of the U.S. Navy now, and he lost his access.â
Sam waved a hand as Dean arrived at the end of the equation. âItâs the only thing that makes any sense, which is completely infuriating. Because it also doesnât make any sense.â
âThatâs starting to sound like a concise summary of Dick Roman overall,â Dean added, getting up to grab himself another beer.
Dean handed a bottle to Sam on his way back to his spot on the sofa, and this time he stretched out and made himself comfortable. They drank in companionable silence for a moment, before Sam came back with more curious information.
âYou know he also tried to hire Claireâs uncle right before he took the promotion to Rufusâs old job. Bobby shared that with me, too.â
âHuh, guess Novak was shy of his twenty for the full pension.â
Sam snorted. âHeâs been in longer than you have, Dean.â
âGuess he just lives to serve, then.â
Dean mostly just wanted to turn the topic of conversation from his new boss. The last thing he needed was for Sam to start poking around that before Dean even managed to shove all his weird conflicting feelings for the guy down into the lead lined lockbox where he kept most of his inconvenient feelings, so he turned the subject back on Roman.
âDid Bobby say what he wanted with the Civil Air Patrol, or was it just cover for his recruitment effort on Bobby himself?â
âOh, no, he offered a bunch of cutting edge equipment to Bobby, apparently no strings attached. Bobby said he might need your help tomorrow to sort through the delivery Roman told him to be expecting.â
Dean snorted at that and pushed himself until he was sitting up far enough to take another swig of his drink.
âGuess Iâm not really getting a day off tomorrow, then. Probably should go easy on these.â He finished the drink and set the empty bottle on the side table behind him and settled back down on the sofa.
âNot that I donât appreciate him supporting the CAP, but it kinda makes you wonder. He apparently bought out Edgar next door, too. And Iâd be shocked if he didnât have his own fleet of planes at his disposal for whatever purposes he wanted to use them. Why bother sending all this equipment to us in some show of good will or whatever? What does he actually expect to gain from this? Because trust me, that guy doesnât sneeze if he doesnât think he can make bank on it.â
âThat was Bobbyâs assessment of him, too,â Sam replied, and then after another moment. âAnd mine, too. Why give me the prototype of his latest scanning tech, go through so much trouble to ensure it led to a specific trove of artifacts coming into my possession in a few weeks, and then try so hard to micromanage the entire delivery operation? Itâs just⊠it feels shady, somehow.â
âEither heâs incapable of coming across like an actual human being whoâs desperate to do a little philanthropy, or he wants something from that dig with a passion, and knows he canât just buy it outright.â
Samâs mouth dropped open and he shuddered at the thought. âTheyâre national treasures of the Iraqi people, and all of humanity. No one person should just get to own them.â
âYeah, well, thereâs no telling the obscenely wealthy that they canât have something they want,â Dean countered. âAnd if he wants something bad enough to go to all this trouble, I donât know if thereâs anything we can do about it.â
Sam frowned. âYou think heâs gonna try to sabotage the delivery? Or interfere just enough to snatch something out of it for himself?â
Dean just shrugged. It didnât make any sense at all to him. Then again, to him it was just a pile of old rocks. To people like Sam who understood their significance and could spend a career learning all their secrets, it was a mission for the betterment of humanity. And Dean could at least appreciate that.
âI canât really see him out there hiring pirates to hijack a naval vessel, so youâre probably safe on that front.â
Sam just rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink. He didnât have to get up and drag himself in to work tomorrow, even if work was just helping Bobby sort electronic equipment.
âHeâs trying to plan some sort of press conference for when it all arrives at my lab. I think heâs expecting a grand tour, like it was some sort of influencerâs unboxing video.â
Dean made a disgusted noise at that. âGotta keep his face in the public eye, doing good deeds or whatever. Just make sure youâve got extra security on hand that day. You got one of your dig buddies coming to supervise everything?â
âKhalilâs traveling with the crates, along with my grad student, Kevin, and some admin type from the university. Theyâll never be unsupervised. It was all part of the deal. Theyâll also be here with me for the scanning, and then accompany the entire collection on tour. Along with a secret service escort, courtesy of the president. But that detail isnât public, obviously. Itâs gonna be a stressful few weeks dealing with all of that. You know my entire department had to pass a security clearance background check for it?â
Once again, Deanâs eyebrows went up. âThat is some pretty intense security for a bunch of old rocks.â
âWell, I guess you get the cultural and historical significance of this find, now.â
âRight,â Dean said, leaning back on the sofa as the events of his very long day started catching up with him. âSuper important and special rocks.â Before Sam could cut in with a correction, Dean corrected himself as he let his eyes slip shut. âI know, origins of written language, new information about one of the first great human civilizations, treasures of our shared history and possibly entirely unique in existence. I ainât kidding, super important and special rocks. You impress the hell outta me, Sam. Of all the old rock readers in the world, they picked you to read these rocks.â
Sam just sat there quietly finishing his drink while Dean started to drift off. Just when Dean thought he was just going to silently haul himself off to bed, Sam spoke again.
âYouâll have to tell me about your new boss in the morning. Donât think Iâm letting you off the hook on that one just because weâve got bigger problems to deal with first.â
And with that, Sam got up, turned out the light, and left Dean to tuck himself in on the couch.
Chapter 4
Chapter Text
đ„ïž
Mercifully, Dean got up before Sam did. Heâd somehow gotten out of having to tell Sam all about Captain Novak, and he was happy to keep that streak going for at least another day. If his dreams had been any indication, he had a lot of crap to deal with adjusting to Novakâs presence in his life before heâd be able to repress hard enough to be objective about his new boss. At least they had a bigger mystery to focus on for a little while.
Dean left a note that he was headed out to the CAP, in case Sam was interested in coming out to shoot the sh*t with Bobby. Maybe the three of them together could figure out the enigma that was Dick Roman.
Since heâd spent the night at Samâs, Dean wasnât in uniform. It wasnât a big deal to Bobby, and everyone else at the CAP was used to seeing him in jeans and flannel on weekends. It certainly didnât affect the work he did, mostly alone in the hangar anyway. Only today, it was apparently a big deal.
Dean pulled into the lot at the CAP office and wasnât surprised to see a handful of cars there on a Saturday morning. A lot of their volunteer pilots were in and out all weekend, especially with a new group of recruits all wanting to get a little air time in. At least Dean didnât have to put on a show for any of them, and most of them were probably already gone out the air side of the building anyway.
On his way to the hangar, Dean knocked on Bobbyâs door, and opened it when he heard the shouted yeah from inside. He was taken aback to find Bobby already entertaining a very grumpy looking Rufus as well as a disconcertingly concerned looking Captain Novak.
âOh, hey, sorry to interrupt,â Dean said, looking between the men. âJust wanted you to know I was here.â
He started to back out of the room when Bobby waved him inside.
âDean, just in time. Shut the door and take a seat.â
He did as he was told, but for just a minute he was concerned.
âUh, am I in some sort of trouble here?â
âWe all might be,â Bobby replied with a grimace. âOr not us, specifically, but us in general.â
Dean frowned, sitting uneasily, now even more confused. âOkay, that sounds ominous.â
âYou talked to Sam?â Bobby asked.
âYeah, I just came from his place.â
Bobby nodded, taking a deep breath and sitting back in his chair. âRoman wants you to sign a confidentiality agreement before youâre allowed to install any of his new equipment in our planes.â
Deanâs eyes went wide. âYou mean heâs not satisfied with my navy security clearance? Is he trying to give us double super top secret prototype sh*t or something?â After a momentâs consideration, Dean shook his head and let all the confusion he was experiencing show plainly on his face. âHe does know that civilians have access to all our equipment, too, right? That if he wants us to use some top secret proprietary tech, itâs gonna get used by all our volunteers, including the high school kids. Does he expect them to just pretend they didnât see it? Is everyone who walks through the door gonna have to sign the same contract?â
Bobby shook his head, then shrugged. âI donât know if heâs thought it through that far, or if he expected us to turn down his generous gift rather than sign on the dotted line, but unfortunately weâre gonna have to decline it. Weâre only loosely connected to the military, and we canât be held liable for what the general public might learn about his equipment.â
âSo then why did he even make the offer if he knew we wouldnât accept it?â
It was Novak who answered, finally looking directly at Dean. At least his new boss seemed to look pleased with him for figuring out their problem so quickly.
âHeâs been trying to recruit all three of us for some time now. And that offer might technically have been extended to you if you were to sign that confidentiality agreement. I believe he was just trying to maintain lines of communication with all of us, since each of us have already repeatedly declined the fantastic employment opportunities heâs been trying to lure us in with.â
âI might be retiring from the navy,â Rufus tossed in grumpily, âbut Iâm staying on with the CAP. Someoneâs gotta keep your ass in line over here,â he added, waving a finger up and down Deanâs casual Saturday attire.
âDonât judge my flannel,â Dean replied, pulling his shirt closer across his chest. He then looked over to note what Novak was wearing. Jeans and a blue button-down that really brought out his eyes. Dean scolded himself mentally, but muddled through to his point. âAt least not when the captainâs in civvies too.â
âYeah, well, Cas wasnât expecting to get dragged in here like this today,â Bobby replied for him. âYou donât got an excuse.â
Dean frowned at that, and then caught Novak smiling at him and he knew he wasnât in any real trouble. When the other man realized Dean was just staring at him, he awkwardly shifted in his seat, cleared his throat, and looked nothing like the competent commanding officer Dean had met the day before. He looked like a guy lost in an Ikea. That thought did absolutely nothing for tempering Deanâs feelings about the man, either.
Novak shook his head and waved one hand in a futile attempt to erase the awkwardness, and Dean finally was able to tear his gaze away.
âSo before Dean arrived, you were saying you believe that whatever Roman wants all of us on board his team for has something to do with Samâs archaeological pursuits?â Novak asked. âBut why? And how?â
Bobby shrugged. âYour guess is as good as ours, Cas. But Samâs pretty sure heâs interested in something from that dig. He jumped over some pretty fancy red tape to have it all delivered right to his doorstep, and heâs sure doing a hell of a job trying to convince the four of us to sign on to Team Roman with iron clad confidentiality contracts. I forwarded one to Sam for his legal department to comb through, at any rate.â
Dean snorted at that, and then looked around at the others when they all stared at him.
âWell, have any of you talked to the sailors actually bringing the loot in?â
When they all just continued staring at him, Dean stood up and started pacing.
âI mean, if heâs been talking to you three, and now heâs trying a sneaky back door end around to loop me into his weird plans, donât you think he might have tried to make a similar arrangement with the guys on the actual ship with the actual stuff you think he wants?â
They all just sat silently for a moment, before Rufus grumbled, âAh, sh*t.â
âWell, Iâm air force,â Bobby replied. âAir force ainât got boats. Thatâs your department.â
Rufus laughed. âI got a eighteen foot bass fishing boat.â
Novak added, shifting uncomfortably again, âI donât care for boats.â
Dean stopped his pacing and just stared, open mouthed at his new boss. âYou been in the navy for two decades, and you donât care for boats?â
Novak shrugged awkwardly. âI get seasick. Thatâs why I fly planes instead.â
Dean couldnât help the delighted grin that spread across his face. âThatâs the best thing Iâve heard all week.â
âYeah, well, this one joined the navy because he didnât like to fly,â Rufus said, hooking a thumb in Deanâs direction. âSo donât let him give you any sh*t about boats until you get him up in a plane first.â
âYes, he mentioned that to me yesterday,â Novak replied.
Bobby and Rufus exchanged a surprised glance at one another, and then Bobby leveled a critical look at Dean, holding firm while he spoke.
âDean just up and told you about that?â
Novak nodded, clearly baffled by their surprise. âYes, while we were working in the hangarâŠâ
He looked over at Dean, narrowing his eyes as if trying to read his mind for clues about what was happening. Dean almost didnât notice as he was too busy squirming under Bobbyâs direct glare.
âHuh,â Bobby finally said, when no additional information from Dean was evidently forthcoming. He still didnât take his eyes off him, though. âHow long did it take for you to say that out loud to anyone on base, Dean? And here you are blabbing all your innermost fears to your new C.O. on day one?â
Bobby finally turned back to Novak, and Dean felt relieved, like a pressure front had rolled past him. Dean still wasnât delighted by Bobby peeling all his layers back and poking them in front of the guy heâd met yesterday and was still having a raging case of inappropriate thoughts about, even if Dean had already inflicted most of the damage on himself by telling Novak in the first place.
âIf Dean hereâs opening up like a secondhand paperback for you, either he took a nasty blow to the head, or he actually likes you. You should take that as a win, Cas.â
Before Novak could even turn his surprised look back on him, Dean grunted and slumped back down in his chair. âWell, itâs a good thing to like your new boss,â he grumbled out, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.
Novak still smiled at him. âClaire told me Iâd enjoy working here, and aside from this Roman Enterprises situation, Iâd have to agree with her so far.â
âYeah, well, we got to get ears to the ground on Roman,â Bobby said.
âAnd at sea,â Rufus added. âIâll look into that as soon as I get back to base. If I know anyone aboard ship with that gear, Iâll have them take a look around and make sure everythingâs secure. Other than that, I donât know if thereâs much else we can do until it reaches Norfolk, other than keeping Roman at armâs length.â
âWell that wonât be a problem for me,â Dean replied. âOutside of running into him here last night, Iâm not sure he even knows I exist. Or cares, for that matter.â
âProbably not,â Bobby agreed. âBut he knows your brother, so thereâs no telling what kind of dirt heâs been digging through on you.â
Dean just shook his head and stood up. âImagine that. Two decades working on classified military equipment, and I finally get drawn into some weird espionage sh*t because of Samâs nerd rocks instead. Go figure.â
âTheyâre pretty important nerd rocks, Dean,â Bobby scolded gently.
Dean waved a dismissive hand. Of course he knew that. âSo if Iâm not getting put to work today, Iâm gonna hit up Guidryâs for breakfast on my way home. Anyone else hungry?â
âI was on my way to run some errands, but I havenât eaten yet today,â Novak said, and then considered it for a moment. âIâm not entirely sure where all the good diners are in town yet, either, and that seems like important information to have.â
Since Dean couldnât agree more with that sentiment, he took it as a moral responsibility to share his knowledge with his Captain.
âWell, if you like pie, Elizabeth makes the best pecan in the state.â
âPie?â Cas asked, his head tilting inquisitively as he stood up. âFor breakfast?â
âFor any time,â Dean replied, slightly offended on behalf of pies everywhere.
Novak just nodded, as if that had been an acceptable answer. âLead the way, then.â He turned back briefly to Bobby and Rufus. âAre you joining us?â
Bobby just smiled and shook his head, sitting back in his chair. âNah, I got a training session in an hour. Next time.â
Rufus stood up, as well. âI gotta get back to the office and see whoâs ferrying back Samâs magic rocks.â He pointed a finger at Dean, whoâd frozen in the doorway realizing heâd effectively just invited his boss out for breakfast, alone, and short of looking like an idiot there probably wasnât a way to politely get out of it now. âIâll give you a call as soon as I know whatâs what, in case itâs one of your people.â
Dean just nodded grimly and turned back toward the door. âYou cominâ, Captain?â
âYou can call me Cas when weâre not acting in an official capacity,â he replied, following after him.
He almost ran into Dean in the hallway outside the door when Dean froze in his tracks and turned back to him.
âYou sure about that?â
Cas just shrugged. âYou call Bobby and Rufus by their first names, and it doesnât seem to be an issue.â
âWell, yeah, âcause Iâve known them since I was old enough to know anyone, and not old enough to know any better.â
Cas considered that for a second, and then shrugged again. âI donât mind, either way.â
Dean sized him up for a minute, and then finally nodded. âOkay, then. Cas it is. But if weâre on a first name basis, you can call me Dean.â
He finally turned and led the way out to the parking lot, with Cas on his heels.
âIn case you havenât noticed, I already do.â
While he walked, Dean thought back over all their interactions, and realized that it was true, and heâd never even noticed it. Maybe it wasnât just him that was having trouble with that line between them. If nothing else, it would make breakfast a hell of a lot more interesting.
âSo where is Guidryâs from here?â Cas asked as he walked toward a big old pickup truck in the parking lot. âIâm not as familiar as Iâd like to be with the area.â
Dean stood there staring from the driverâs side of his Impala for a second, taking in the sight of Cas with his truck.
âThatâs yours?â
Cas glanced at the truck, and then back at Dean, ready to be defensive over his ride. âYes?â
âHuh, I guess I kinda took you for more of a sports car guy. Or maybe some weird futuristic sh*t full of batteries or solar cells or something.â
Cas made a sour face at that. âI get my fill of speed and weird futuristic sh*t at work. But I understand what you mean. A lot of people who are drawn to test pilot training are of a certain personality type.â
âBut not you,â Dean muttered, feeling strangely relieved about that. Louder, he added, âIt ainât far to Guidryâs. Just down by the waterfront. You can follow me.â
He slapped the roof of his car as Cas nodded his approval of that plan, and then climbed inside.
âïž
Cas probably shouldâve realized that Dean Winchester wasnât going to be just another person under his command when Rufus led him down to Deanâs office, let himself inside and made himself at home. Or at the very least when Dean walked in on them and, even caught off guard like he had been, adapted to the situation with ease. And now seeing Rufus and Bobby both bring him easily into their confidence, treating him not just as a subordinate or even just as a friend, but as an equal whose thoughts they valued. Not only that, but seeing Bobbyâs surprise that Dean had revealed something about himself, something so apparently deeply personal to him on their first meeting, confirmed that Dean was someone he was going to be grateful to have come into his life.
That was, if Cas could figure out what to do about the entirely inappropriate feelings he was rapidly developing for the man.
Now that he was following Dean through Saturday morning traffic to have breakfast with him, maybe it would give him a chance to develop those feelings into a firm friendship. If he could just shove them all under that umbrella instead of letting them congeal into anything else, then maybe in time they could develop the sort of relationship that Bobby and Rufus had cultivated with him over the years. Or at least, thatâs what heâd keep trying to tell himself.
Dean turned back and waved at him at a stoplight, and then made a left turn when the light turned green. It took Cas a few more seconds to find a gap in traffic big enough to turn through, but Dean had slowed down to let him catch up. It was a ridiculous thing to find endearing, and yet Cas couldnât stop himself.
He sighed, watching Dean signal and then turn into a narrow road leading right down to the riverâs edge, ending at a building that resembled a fishing shack more than a diner. The parking lot was crowded though, and Casâs grumbling stomach was intrigued and gratefulâ whatever mental hoops heâd climbed through to get thereâ that heâd allowed himself to accept Deanâs offer. After all, he really did need to venture out around town more, and finding a decent diner off base had been a top priority.
Cas found a spot and parked, giving himself a moment to mentally prepare for facing Dean alone again. Now that heâd extended an offer of friendshipâ or at least invited Dean to use his nameâ he wasnât sure if that would make this easier or only that much more awkward. The only way to find out was to get out of his truck and go inside.
He met up with Dean just outside the door, and Dean waved him through first. The delicious aroma that hit him as soon as he was inside left him temporarily incapable of speech, but luckily Dean was right behind him to say what he couldnât yet. Dean took a deep breath and grinned at him.
âItâs great, right? Just wait, it tastes even better.â
Dean glanced around, finding a woman behind the counter and getting her attention with a wave. She looked pleased to see him, and pointed out an empty table across the room. Dean gave her a thumbs up, and led Cas over to it. Before he could even sit, Dean was handing him one of the menus jammed between the salt and pepper shakers.
âThe specials change all the time,â Dean said, before Cas could even begin reading it. âItâs usually just what Elizabeth felt like making for herself this morning, but honestly everythingâs fantastic so you canât really go wrong.â
At the sound of her name, the woman herself appeared with a pot of coffee in one hand.
âHey, Dean. I take it you want coffee,â she said, turning over the cup in front of him and filling it without waiting for a reply. âI wasnât sure about your friend here. What can I get you, sugar?â
Cas turned his cup over for her. âCoffee would be wonderful, thank you.â
Almost as if Dean was using it as an excuse to test out his name, Dean smiled up at the woman and introduced him.
âElizabeth, this is Cas. Heâs new in town, and I told him you got the best pie in the state. You got pecan today, right?â
âWell, itâs nice to meet you, Cas, and I hope Dean didnât talk us up too much. He can get real enthusiastic about his pie.â She thought about that for a second and then added, âFood in general, really. Boy donât like to go hungry. So, are yâall just here for pie, or are you saving that for dessert?â
Cas was still blinking and marveling at the sound of his name in Deanâs voice, but he shook himself off long enough to answer. âI think Iâll have the Sunrise Special,â Cas said, setting aside his menu. âAnd Iâll see about the pie when Iâm finished.â
âFair enough,â Elizabeth told him, turning her smile on Dean.
âPancakes and a side of sausage,â Dean said, picking up his coffee cup and toasting her with it.
âIâll have that out in a jiffy for you.â She turned to walk back to the kitchen and then stopped. âI talked to Benny this morning, and he said if you stopped in, I should tell you heâs planning on going out fishing this afternoon if youâre interested in joining him.â
âThat sounds like a plan, thanks Elizabeth.â Dean grinned at her, and she finally headed back to put in their order.
Cas sat there feeling slightly wrong-footed, as if heâd intruded on some private meeting between Dean and Elizabeth. He wasnât sure if the strange swooping feeling constituted a low-key jealousy, but there was clearly something more to their relationship than just Dean being a regular customer. After a few moments of silence, watching Dean sip his coffee and look around the room like he was expecting to see someone else he knew, Cas broke the silence between them.
âIt sounds like youâve known Elizabeth for a long time.â
âYeah, sheâs a buddy of mineâs sister. We went through basic training together. Soon as she was out of high school, she moved up here to be near him, and started working here. She bought the place a few years back when the original owner retired.â
âAnd Benny?â Cas prompted, nodding along to Deanâs quick explanation.
Dean grinned at the mention of his friend, and suddenly he didnât know who to be jealous of anymore. He mentally scolded himself for the ridiculous feeling and waited for Dean to reply.
âHer brother. Heâs a technical and salvage diver, but on his days off we still canât get him to stay on dry land. Though around here, knowing a guy who knows all the inlets and channels where the fish like to hide out makes for some great fishing, if youâre into that kind of thing.â Dean leaned an elbow on the table, and then jerked it back off like it had shocked him. âUnless you really donât like boats. Then, uh⊠I guess if youâre still into fishing, thereâs plenty of piers up river and out on the ocean side.â
Cas appreciated the fact that Dean had even bothered to remember that detail, even if it hadnât been entirely truthful. Not that the truth was much less uncomfortable to admit to, but he was beginning to think that the truth was the very least he owed Dean.
âItâs not boats, so much as itâs deep water I donât enjoy. Iâve had several near misses landing on aircraft carriers, and thereâs nothing more distressing than having mechanical issues in a plane while hundreds of miles from the nearest safe landing site. Not to mention most of the naval ships I have been aboard have been⊠letâs call it slow, and confining.â
Dean just nodded knowingly back at him and leaned back on the table again, like he was imparting secret knowledge. âI get why you drive the truck now, too.â
Cas had never really connected those two concepts in his mind, but now that Dean had done it for him, it made perfect sense. He had no idea how to express that to Dean in a way that didnât sound slightly insane inside his own head, though. Luckily Dean kept talking and he didnât have to worry about it.
âI get all the space I need out in the hangar. Even with my head stuck up in an engine.â Dean gave him a commiserating smile, and Cas knew what he meant from watching him work the day before. âWhen Iâm not working on aircraft, I still prefer my Baby. A long drive is the same thing for me that flying is for you, I guess. That feeling like the world is yours and you can go anywhere on the open road. Or in the open sky. But I still prefer solid ground.â
âFair enough,â Cas replied, raising his hands in surrender. âI wonât ask you to fly if you donât ask me to sail.â
âDeal,â Dean replied, grinning at him like theyâd come to an important understanding.
Cas honestly didnât care why Dean was smiling at him, as long as he could continue to bear witness to it. It was one of the most pleasing and warming things heâd seen in a very long time, and he had to remind himself yet again that he was absolutely not supposed to be thinking such thoughts about a man under his command.
Unlike their conversation in the hangar the previous day, or even their commiseration session in Bobbyâs office that morning, they talked easily over breakfast, with the camaraderie of old friends whoâd just found each other again. Like Dean had already shared confidences about himself that he usually kept close to the chest, Cas found that Deanâs presence had a similar effect on him.
He found himself telling Dean why heâd joined the navy, as an act of rebellion from his staunchly air force family. Even if heâd still become a highly decorated pilot in his own right, it was his small way of distinguishing himself from the rest of his family. When Claire had wanted to follow in his footsteps, heâd done everything he could to make her path easier than his own had been.
âWell I certainly appreciate it. Glad the kid stuck around here,â Dean said, finishing up the pie heâd ordered after breakfast.
âI havenât mentioned it, because I have no intention of actually taking the job, but several of my family members are encouraging me to accept Romanâs offer. Family members that I havenât spoken to in years, in fact. I believe Roman may have asked them to contact me on his behalf. Theyâre intrigued by the financial and political potential of having a family member in such a position.â
Dean grunted. âSo one of them can go work for that slimebag if theyâre so in love with the idea. I donât even wanna be in the same room with the guy, let alone on his payroll.â
âHmm, yeah, thereâs that,â Cas said. âBut my family has a penchant for turning military service into a business opportunity at every possible turn. It may look like Iâm a black sheep for joining the navy, but truly Iâve made myself a pariah for still serving instead of having moved to the private sector or politics instead.â
âUgh, sorry about that,â Dean replied. âClosest my family got to political sh*t was Sam. He was all ready to study law until he took an anthropology elective freshman year. Changed his whole outlook on life.â
âAnd he clearly excels in his field,â Cas replied, finishing the last bite of the pecan pie that Dean had talked him into ordering.
Dean practically beamed at him. âYeah, that kid doesnât do anything halfway. If heâd gone into law, heâd probably be a senator by now. Or the president.â
Theyâd already paid their bill, but Cas wasnât in any hurry to leave. Dean had proven to be the most enjoyable company heâd shared in years, and it was likely the next time they saw one another it would be on base. Yes, it was a more friendly environment than he was accustomed to working in, but it was still a far cry from the casual atmosphere theyâd cultivated in the diner. Dean had already finished before Cas did, and yet he also didnât seem to be in a rush to leave. Once again, they just found themselves sitting in contented silence, just staring across the table at one another. Until Cas began to wonder if he may have missed some signal, or if somehow Dean was waiting to be dismissed by him.
âI hope Iâm not keeping you from anything,â Cas said after another minute or two.
âWhat?â Dean asked, sitting more at attention as if he was shaking himself out of some daydream. âNah, itâs Saturday. I donât have anything planned, other than probably laundry and maybe hitting the exchange on my way home.â
Cas frowned at him. âWere you supposed to go fishing with your friend Benny?â Even if it pained him to think about Dean spending the afternoon with someone else, probably not even thinking about their breakfast together again, Cas didnât want to be the cause of Dean disappointing someone else. âI wouldnât want to keep you from that.â
Dean frowned and glanced at his watch, and then sighed. âHeâs probably already taken off by now anyway,â he said, as a slightly sad and apologetic look crossed his face. âUnless this is just your polite way of excusing yourself now. I guess I can take a hint.â
Dean stood up with a groan and stretched his back, and Cas got the distinct impression that heâd said the wrong thing. He also had no idea what else he could say to fix it, and instead just stood up, feeling a little shaky as Dean gave him a sad smile.
âI enjoyed our breakfast, Dean. Thank you again for allowing me to tag along with you.â
Dean looked a little more genuinely pleased at that, but that didnât really stop Cas from feeling like heâd somehow ruined a perfectly nice morning.
âGlad to be of service, then,â Dean replied, leading the way to the door and giving Elizabeth a little wave as they left. âI got a list of at least a dozen spots around town any newcomer should know about. Next time I run into you off base, we can hit up the next one.â
âThat sounds like a plan. Though I never wouldâve even run into you today at all if Rufus hadnât asked me to meet with Bobby.â
Dean headed toward his car, but then stopped. âYeah, well, now you know Bobby, so if you plan on volunteering over at the CAP, weâre bound to run into each other there again.â
Cas nodded, hoping he looked eager and not desperate. âOh, definitely. I submitted an official application this morning before you arrived. So contingent on my acceptance, I should be there on a regular basis.â
Dean snorted out a laugh, but that huge smile that Cas knew was just for him had returned.
âDude, consider yourself accepted. Claireâs been talking you up for years, and if Bobbyâs already calling you by your first name, I donât think heâs gotta do a deep dive on your resume to decide if youâre qualified.â
âI suppose I may be overqualified. Itâs been a few years since Iâve taken one up, but I do believe I remember how to handle a Cessna.â
They once again found themselves just standing and smiling at one another. It wasnât awkward this time, at least. Eventually, a car pulled into the lot looking for a parking spot, and that seemed to shake Dean out of their current trance.
âUh, yeah, I guess we should go and free up Elizabethâs lot here for hungry customers,â he said, and then pointed a finger at Cas. âYou got your errands to run still, too. Whatever Bobby interrupted this morning.â
Cas shrugged. âGrocery shopping, and then probably sitting in my empty house waiting for my belongings to arrive from Pax River. They shoved me on a cargo transport without my cargo.â
Dean laughed at that. âYeah, leave it to an airline to lose your luggage.â
âItâs worse when said luggage is all my earthly possessions, aside from my truck and the few things Iâd stuffed in it. At least they let me take that as carry on baggage.â
Dean nodded knowingly. âYeah, thatâs the one benefit of flying military class. They donât charge extra for an oversized carry on.â
âIt was my one condition for accepting the transfer here.â
âYou must really like that truck,â Dean said, sounding almost fond about it. âI know how you feel. I wouldnât go anywhere I couldnât bring my baby here,â he added, patting the roof of his car, and then sighed. âWell, if you need anything, including help moving furniture or whatever when it arrives, you know where to find me.â
Cas nodded, genuinely appreciative of the offer.
âThank you, Dean. I mean that. This is the first time Iâve moved in more than two decades, and Iâm finding it a little unsettling.â
âWell, then Iâm gonna make it my job to make sure you feel settled here,â Dean said.
Cas wasnât sure it wasnât just a trick of the light, but it almost looked like Dean actually blushed when he said that.
âOkay, then, I guess Iâll head out,â Dean finally said. âYou good getting back to base on your own?â
âI might wander around town a bit, and if any of the very large signs pointing the way to Norfolk Naval Base arenât specific enough to navigate by, I am familiar with several other navigation techniques that may prove useful.â
âYou got GPS in the truck?â Dean asked, grinning at him like a loon.
âOn my phone, even,â Cas replied.
Dean sighed. âWell, then I guess Iâll see you bright and early Monday morning, unless you need anything elseâŠâ
âNo, Dean. Not right now. Thank you again, for everything.â
Dean smiled at him, fiddling with his keys. âYou have a good weekend then, Cas.â
With that, he got in his car and drove off. Cas stood there watching his car disappear into traffic before climbing into his truck and heading for home. He only remembered as he drove through base security that it hardly counted as a home yet.
Chapter 5
Chapter Text
đ„ïž
Dean pulled out of the lot at Guidryâs and had three whole blocks to attempt to process anything that had happened in the last few hours. He was apparently on a friendly first-name basis with his CO only a day after meeting him. And all that happened before heâd even come to grips with his earth shattering first meeting with the man the day before. He was just beginning to feel relieved that he had the rest of the weekend to give himself a little perspective on the whole situation, if not figure out how to completely bury the steadily growing feelings he was developing on top of the shock and awe attraction he felt to the man at first sight.
Unfortunately he didnât have time to deal with any of that before his phone rang. Luckily he was stopped at a red light, or he mightâve steered into oncoming traffic jumping out of his skin when Born on the Bayou blared from his pocket. He allowed himself a couple deep breaths to calm down before answering.
âHey, Benny, whatâs up?â
âElizabeth just called, said you left her diner, but you mightâve been a little distracted by your company.â Bennyâs voice held a little note of mirth in it, and Dean groaned, remembering yet again that heâd been invited to go out fishing that afternoon. âYou still up for a little fishing, or do you have other big plans later this evening?â
Dean rolled his eyes, but only because Benny wasnât there to see him doing it. âI had breakfast with my new CO, Benny.â
Benny was quiet for a moment, like he was deciding whether or not to tease Dean about it anyway, and blessedly settled for neutral to start with. âThatâs Claireâs illustrious uncle, right?â
âSure is,â Dean replied. âCas is a good dude, everything Claire ever talked him up as. He was up at Bobbyâs this morning, and I offered to show him the best breakfast spot in a fifty mile radius. It was an offer he couldnât refuse.â
âHmm,â Benny replied, and Dean could picture him looking down his nose at him and stroking his beard knowingly. âElizabeth said the two of you looked mighty friendly. Like⊠mighty friendly.â
âWe were friendly,â Dean replied gruffly, almost defensively. âYou want me to treat my new CO like sh*t on day two?â
âThatâs not what I meant, Dean, and you know it.â
âYeah, well, heâs my CO, so friendlyâs all thatâs gonna come of it, okay? Just, drop it already.â
Benny clearly heard the frustration in Deanâs voice and took pity on him.
âWell, I didnât call to torment you, anyway. If youâre up for it, I was about to take off and wondered if you were fit for company for the rest of the afternoon.â
Dean let out a defeated little laugh as the light turned green and he headed up the interstate on ramp. It was easy enough to deflect back to the first part of that offer and completely ignore the second. He was pretty sure he wasnât fit company for anyone.
âWhere were you thinking of heading?â
âWell, brother, thatâs a good question. I was thinking up river by Hog Island, but if youâre looking for a little more excitement we could head up the Chesapeake or out around Cape Henry offshore. I hadnât decided yet. Figured Iâd give you a vote if you wanted to come with.â
Dean snorted. âYeah, you just wanna be out on the water and you want me to pick a direction for you to go.â
âSomethinâ like that,â Benny replied. âBut no pressure. If you had other plans, Iâll probably just meander around the bay for a few hours and see if anything bites. Itâs too nice a day to sit on dry land.â
âYeah, well, you got me there,â Dean said, getting his last glimpse of the bright blue sky and glorious midday sunshine glittering off the river before disappearing into the tunnel beneath it. âJust drove into the Hampton tunnel, and the view is definitely better from above the water.â
âSo are you headed over to the docks, or should I take off without you?â
Dean sighed, gripping the steering wheel tighter and focusing only on the road directly in front of him. âMuch as Iâd love to just forget the last couple days and head out to sea instead, I gotta feeling I should really stick close to home today.â
âHuh,â Benny replied. âThat was one of your more cryptic answers in a good long while. This have anything to do with why you took your CO out to breakfast, because just from the tone of your voice, this sounds like something more than that. Everything okay with your brother?â
âWhat?â Dean asked as he emerged from the tunnel into the now blinding glare of sunlight. âYeah, Samâs fine.â
Dean was about to brag about his brotherâs latest achievement, before he remembered how it connected back to everything else that had been troubling him over the last two days. Instead of regaling Benny with a tale of Samâs diplomatic and scholarly feats, he just sighed, rubbing his temple as he felt a headache coming on. At least he was turning off the highway and almost back to base.
âItâs a really long story, though.â
âAnd Iâm guessing itâs not one you want to tell at sea,â Benny said, understanding completely. âSo if you wanna talk about it on shore, Iâll go out and snag us a rockfish big enough to feed a family of four or one Dean Winchester, and Iâll bring it over tonight and weâll fry it up and you can tell me all about it.â
Dean felt the relief flood through him. Much as a day on Bennyâs boat could cure almost any ill, his current situation was more of the brooding in his cave variety. Just hashing it all out over a couple beers and a huge meal felt like the best approach.
âYeah man, that sounds perfect. Iâm headed to the Exchange right now. Iâll get what I need to start a pot of gumbo and some rice. You just give a yell when youâre on the way.â
âSounds like a plan.â Dean heard the engine of Bennyâs boat start up. âI should be back in a few hours.â
âThanks, Benny,â Dean replied as he turned into the Exchange parking lot and hung up.
He parked, shut off the engine, and then sat there for a minute. Dean closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest, making a low, pained noise, mentally adding aspirin to his shopping list. It was bad enough he was gonna have to make sense enough of the whole situation with Sam and Dick Roman just to convey the depths of f*ckery he was still trying to figure out. Benny was certainly gonna want to know everything about Captain Novak, too. And if Dean could help it, there was no way he was gonna accidentally slip and refer to him as Cas, even if Cas had insisted on it all morning.
He groaned and trudged into the store. It was gonna be a long night. Again.
A few hours later, Benny finally called, letting him know he was ten minutes out and making sure Dean was ready for him. In the intervening hours, Dean had set a pot of gumbo simmering, tidied up the place a bit, and done about half his laundry. Staying busy hadnât kept his mind from wandering back to Cas and everything heâd learned about the man that morning.
Heâd had an eventful career in the Navy, which Dean had already heard about in broad strokes from Claire over the years, but his personal life was another story. Mostly, he didnât really seem to have much of one, and it had made Deanâs heart hurt to hear him dismiss it so casually as no big deal. Cas had never really had occasion to worry about it, and after hearing a few tales about his social climbing, power hungry family, Dean really couldnât blame the guy for keeping his distance from all that.
When he hung up with Benny, Dean realized he was still wearing the same clothes heâd slept in at Samâs the night before, tossed them in the laundry pile yet to be washed and jumped in the shower. Five minutes later, he was back in the kitchen getting the rice started. Benny let himself in a few minutes after that and set his cooler down on the kitchen table. Dean handed him a beer and a filet knife, and without a word he set to work preparing the fish.
âThatâs a good looking catch you got there,â Dean said, leaning back against the counter and watching his friend work.
âI thought so,â Benny replied, grinning at him and then going back to his work. âSo you wanna tell me whatâs got that look on your face, or wait until you get a couple more of those in you first?â he asked, pointing to Deanâs drink.
Dean stood back, giving Benny space at the stove to check everything heâd already made and start frying up the fish. Once Benny gave his stamp of approval to Deanâs gumbo, Dean grabbed another beer and slumped down in a chair. Benny gave him a considering look and then turned back to the stove.
âSo this is a sittinâ down conversation. I gotta say, the curiosity has been eating at me.â
Dean let out a joyless little laugh. âYeah, well, this whole bizarre situation has been eating at me since Thursday.â
âDo tell,â Benny replied.
Dean took a deep breath and dove in. It wasnât the sort of story he could tell in a straight line, so he meandered around a bit. Of course he started with Samâs exciting news, because it was the easiest and most straightforward bit to convey. Benny beamed his approval at it all.
âWell, good for him.â
Dean snorted as he and Benny fixed their plates and finally sat down to eat. He waited until Benny had tasted his gumbo and given him his seal of approval before he moved on to the trickier bits of the story.
âYeah, but right there is where all the trouble with Dick starts.â
Benny nearly choked on his gumbo, and had to cough and clear his throat before he could speak.
âBrother, as an unqualified statement, that is a hell of a thing to say out loud.â
Dean shrugged, feeling ever so slightly better, and waded in to the Dick Roman portion of the eveningâs entertainment. By the time theyâd finished eating and Dean was getting the leftovers sorted and put away, heâd pretty much exhausted everything to the best of his understanding.
âSo you think Dick Roman is up to something dirty with Samâs archaeology work, thatâs somehow related to his sudden desire to get pretty much every military man Samâs acquainted with on his payroll,â Benny concluded, summing it up as tidily as possible.
Dean shoved the last of the leftovers in the fridge and got out two more beers. He handed one to Benny with a nod toward the sofa. Benny followed, asking the inevitable next question that Dean had been psyching himself up for all evening.
âSo how does Captain Novak tie in to all of this? I mean, I assume you didnât just detour to Guidryâs with him for a pleasant diversionâŠâ
Dean was glad he hadnât sat down yet, because he froze like a deer in headlights at that, but was able to get himself moving again before Benny had noticed. At least he had a relevant segue that might stave off his actual issues for a little longer. Corporate intrigue and secret government shenanigans were usually good for at least a few minutesâ worth of diversion.
âYeah, I told you Rufus has been fending off Dickâs advances for a while, and yesterday when he and Bobby were having a little phone conference about it all I got to babysit Novak for a few hours.â
âIs that what theyâre calling it nowadays?â Benny asked, giving him a cheeky glance before taking a swig of beer.
Dean wasnât sure if heâd revealed too much of his other thoughts about Cas in the tone of his voice, or his body language, or if maybe Benny was just messing with him, but he pressed on regardless.
âApparently after Rufus got the download from Bobby about everything Roman had been up to, he mentioned it to Novak, who was like hey, that guyâs been trying to get me on his payroll too. So he got looped into this whole mess just in case itâs all part of some bigger plan. At the very least, Rufus wanted him to be aware of it all since heâs taking over next week.â
Benny shook his head, and Dean took the reprieve from Bennyâs teasing about his disaster of a personal life.
âNow that is a messed up situation to walk into on day one of your new command. Howâs he taking it?â
Dean gave a considering bob of his head. âPretty well, all things considered. They guy seems chill, like nothing ruffles his feathers.â
âWell, that is a quality prized in test pilots. Seems only natural.â After a momentâs pause to let that sink in a bit, Benny turned back to Dean. âThat still donât explain how you ended up taking the man to breakfast, you do realize that.â
âDid you not listen to anything else I said over the last hour?â Dean sputtered out. âI spent the night up at Samâs, showed up at the CAP expecting to do a full dayâs work, only to walk in on their little secret conference. Got invited in, told there was nothing for me to do after all, because we all agreed Iâd be an idiot signing a confidentiality agreement with Dick. So when the meeting broke up I asked who wanted to get breakfast. Cas accepted before Bobby and Rufus declined, so what was I supposed to do? Tell my new boss he was uninvited? So we went and had pancakes and pie, okay?â
At the end of his breathless rant, Benny stared at him for a moment or two, and then blinked.
âCas, eh? First name basis with the new CO on day two? Thatâs gotta be some kinda record, even for you, Dean.â
Dean made a wounded sound of frustration and slapped his own thigh just a little too hard. At least Benny wasnât also calling him out on the sheer volume of emotions heâd just dumped out over the guy. If poking at him for using the manâs name was the worst Benny could muster, then Dean would take it, gratefully. Of course he was never that lucky.
âAnd why do you keep referring to the president of Richard Roman Enterprises as Dick, while weâre on the subjectâŠâ
âDude, thatâs his name. Thatâs what he apparently prefers to be called, and honestly itâs the name he deserves. Dudeâs a f*cking eel in a designer suit.â
Benny held up a hand in surrender. âOkay, I get it. He does seem to be up to something, even if I canât imagine what that might be. Even if itâs just more access to the local bases since he seems to be shifting a lot of his business to the area. Might just be trying to make nice with the locals expecting it to be good PR or whatever with the folks who make big purchase decisions.â
âYeah, but that doesnât explain his supposedly generous offer to the CAP, or what the hell heâs doing financing major archaeology expeditions in Iraq. Or why heâs suddenly spending all his free time hanging out at a little charter company at a small airport with like half a dozen commercial flights a day. Itâs not like Newport News is a major aviation hub, so why put his business there? Why not Atlanta or Dallas or Chicago, or even Charlotte? Why here? Why now?â
âAnd why, in the middle of all that, is he throwing himself in the path of everyone Winchester-adjacent with handfuls of contracts and confidentiality clauses? I see your point.â Benny took a long drink and then sighed and stared right at Dean. âEven if that still doesnât explain the whole Cas thing.â
Dean shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose for a second. He really wasnât getting out of any of it, even if it was his own damn fault for slipping up and calling him Cas in the first place. Dean polished off his beer and pushed himself up off the sofa, wiggling the empty bottle in Bennyâs direction.
âYou want another while Iâm up?â
Benny examined his still half-full bottle and shook his head. âLong as youâre not just trying to avoid answering the question, I think Iâm good for now. Unless the answer is gonna drive me to drinking, that is.â
Dean rolled his eyes and headed for the kitchen. When he returned with two more bottles, Benny raised an eyebrow at him before accepting the offered bottle.
âThat bad, is it?â
âIâd switch to whiskey, but itâs already getting kinda late. Plus youâre probably gonna want that sooner or later. Just saves me the trip.â
Benny took the offered bottle and set it on the table beside him while he finished his current drink.
âAll right, brother. Lay it on me then.â
Dean took a fortifying swallow and then rubbed one hand over his eyes.
âIâve never been more glad that Andrea was deployed than I am right now,â Dean muttered under his breath, âOr youâd probably be spilling all this to her before I even figured out what the hell it all means. Just⊠when you talk to her next, leave my sh*t out of it.â
âDean, I havenât talked to her for a week. Donât you think we got more pressing things to discuss than your sordid affairs?â
âDonât⊠say it that way,â Dean protested. âMy affairs arenât sordid, and I donât have any sort of affair at all with Cas. Heâs my commanding officer, for f*ckâs sake.â
âBut you do call him Cas,â Benny replied, pointing a finger and grinning at him.
Dean slumped back into the pillows, pouting like a grounded teenager. But Benny really wasnât wrong, and it was petulant and silly for Dean to keep protesting it. He had to unburden it all to someone, and even if Dean had whined about Benny spilling his secrets to his wife, she was currently on a hospital ship on the other side of the Atlantic. Itâs not like she had anyone to tell, either.
âFine, you really wanna know? Because I sure as hell canât figure it out.â
âTwo heads are better than one, brother,â Benny said.
âAgain, Benny, please just⊠donât say it that way.â
Benny tapped the lip of his bottle to his temple. âYou know what I mean. This ainât just a display case for my rugged good looks, you know.â
Dean groaned. âWhy did I ever tell you I was bisexual?â
âBecause I figured it out the third day after we met?â Benny replied, sounding confused before getting back to the point. âYou know youâll feel better if you talk it out.â
Dean sighed, glaring at Benny for another minute before finally getting down to the tangled mess of his own feelings.
âWell for starters, heâs just a weird, dorky little guy,â Dean said, trying to come up with descriptors other than the hottest dude Iâve ever seen.
âThatâs pretty much your type, all the way,â Benny said.
Dean chucked the nearest cushion at Bennyâs head, and he laughed as he gently tossed it back to Dean.
âIâm just trying to keep it light, Dean. Thereâs no need for violence.â
âSorry, man,â Dean said with a sigh. âItâs just, thereâs not a lot of people I have that reaction to when I first meet them, you know? And then ten seconds after I lose the power of speech over the guy just from the way he looked at me, Rufus tells me who he is and I just know I gotta crush all that bullsh*t down hard and be a professional. That sucked bad enough.â
Dean paused to take a drink, and Benny took the opportunity to help him clarify. At least, thatâs how Benny wouldâve put it back when theyâd first met. Lucky him, Andrea had been working through her psych rotation at the time, and was practicing all her therapy-speak on Benny. If Dean was truly exhibiting the clarity that Benny had helped him find over the years, he knew he wouldâve been grateful for it. But he was still in the murky depths of this conundrum that he just knew didnât have a satisfying answer for him.
âSounds like you know exactly what the problem is, then. So whatâs got you in this state?â
Dean ran his free hand through his hair and sighed. âBecause I could deal with just a hot guy. I was doing fine with it at first. But itâs like heâs got x-ray vision. When he looks at you, itâs like heâs seeing right through you. And even worse, heâs just⊠f*cking nice. Like a really decent human being. Kinda like a sad, lost puppy who needs a friend.â He paused to take another drink, and sighed again, looking right at Benny. âItâs just a lot to take from one person whoâs entirely off limits.â
Benny nodded, finally understanding the depths of Deanâs dilemma. âBecause heâs your commanding officer, and you couldnât do anything about it even if you wanted to.â
Dean just held his hands out helplessly. That was exactly his problem.
âHow is this my luck? What god did I piss off in a former life to deserve this, huh?â
Benny snorted out a laugh at that. âNo idea, Dean, but I feel for you anyway.â
They continued talking for a few more hours, and Benny had been right. Despite not actually having progressed his understanding of any of his issues, he did feel better having mentally sorted through it all with a trusted friend. Plus, as long as Andrea was at sea, it made Dean feel good to keep Benny company as much as he could. By the time Benny bid him a good night and headed home, they both were in a pretty good mood.
Dean spent most of Sunday just being lazy, eating leftovers and watching whatever happened to be on tv. He was doing his best to follow Bennyâs advice to try and just put all of it out of his mind instead of obsessing over it all weekend. It had been a largely successful endeavor, aside from the continual breakthrough thoughts about his beguiling blue eyed boss, but Dean considered that to be exposure therapy and perfectly acceptable. Heâs not sure Benny wouldâve agreed, but there wasnât really much he could do about it.
At least, heâd been mostly coasting along like that, finding himself repeatedly obsessing about Cas only to have to crush the impulse to play what-if with it. And then Bobby called early Sunday evening. When his phone rang, Dean had assumed it was Sam just calling to chat, but was equally unsurprised to hear from Bobby. Talking to him would at least hopefully give him a break from constantly having to force himself to stop thinking about Cas.
âRufus found out whose ship is bringing over Samâs cargo,â Bobby said without preamble, sounding too delighted about it to bother with the usual pleasantries. âCouldnât ask for a better captain than that paranoid old coot,â he added with a chuckle.
âWho, Frank Devereaux?â Dean asked, feeling weirdly relieved if he was right.
âYup. Heâs the last guy whoâd ever sign up to be on Dick Romanâs payroll, and now that Rufus gave him the heads up to expect the unexpected, heâs on double high alert for shenanigans.â
âWow,â Dean said, sounding impressed. âConsidering Frankâs baseline state is high alert.â
Bobby snorted. âYeah, heâs sending Rufus hourly briefings with their coordinates, weather conditions, and updates about any weird behavior in his crew. If nothing else, weâll know the second anything out of the ordinary happens, but so far it looks like business as usual. They havenât even left the Mediterranean yet, so itâll be a while before they can chug across the Atlantic and become our concern.â
âWell, I hope his crew doesnât consider mutiny before that.â
âNah,â Bobby said. âMost of them adore the guy. They know heâd throw down for every last one of them, heâs got all their backs, and just expects the same from them in return.â
Dean just made a noise of approval. Frank was not an easy person to get to know, but once he had your measure, he was a loyal, decent, if deeply weird guy. But Bobby was also right. There was no one better suited for helping them dodge whatever scheme Dick Roman was cooking up.
âYou know Bradburyâs serving as his communications officer now, right?â
âWhat, Charlie left Rota? I thought she loved Spain.â
Bobby sighed, grumbling under his breath. âI figured you of all people would know that, since you talk to her all the time. But yeah, she was doing three months with Frank, and then coming back here. Though with Samâs delivery, it looks like sheâll be here a lot sooner than that.â
Dean was silent for a moment, wondering why one of his best friends wouldnât have told him she was coming back stateside and he had to find out in an offhand comment from Bobby. âI talked to her a couple days ago, and she didnât say sh*t about it to me.â
âWell I only learned it from Rufus five minutes ago, and he only learned it from Frank. He was kinda sore you didnât tell him yourself, but it looks like thereâs a good reason for that.â
âYeah,â Dean said, rolling his eyes as he cracked open a beer. âIf Rufus was sore, imagine how I feel?â
âDean, donât you dare call up Charlie just to bite her head off. First off, itâs like two in the morning where she is. And second, if she didnât tell you, sheâs got a real good reason. Either itâs national security, or last minute.â
Dean snorted. âLast minute what⊠two weeks ago? At least? Yeah⊠that ship has sailed.â
âAnd itâs still sailing,â Bobby reminded him. âWith Samâs ancient treasures and a couple of innocent bystander archaeologists aboard. So go easy on her. Sheâs got an important mission.â
âYeah, well,â Dean relented, sighing and rubbing his eyes. âShe couldâve told me. But if anyone tries anything shady on that ship, between Charlie and Frank theyâre in for a world of hurt. So I guess thereâs that.â
Bobby laughed, and if Dean didnât know him so well, heâd think it sounded menacing. âThere is that.â
After they hung up, Dean stood leaning against the kitchen counter staring at his phone for a minute. Bobby told him not to call Charlie and harass her, but he didnât say anything about not texting her. So Dean did.
<<Hey Red. Just found out from Bobby, who heard from Rufus, that youâre on Frankâs boat now. Did the whole picking up your entire life thing just slip your mind?
Much to Deanâs surprise, Charlie actually messaged him back almost immediately.
>>WHAT?! DAMMIT. Frank was supposed to keep that secret!
<<You do know that Frank hates secrets.
>>IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SURPRISE, DEAN. SURPRISE I GUESS.
Dean stared down at his phone, grinning. Charlie rearranged her entire life, pulled up all her roots, and jumped on a ship to show up in Norfolk just to surprise him. Well, he couldnât really be mad about that. It was just such a weirdly Charlie thing to do.
<<Well the only thing Frank hates more than secrets is surprises.
>>I am finding that out the hard way.
<<I donât know if thereâs an easy way with Frank.
They chatted back and forth for an hour or so, but at least they were finally caught up on the situation on both sides of the Atlantic. Charlie loved Spain, but sheâd always known it wouldnât be a permanent move. When Frank requested her specifically, she jumped at the chance to spend a few months at sea, knowing eventually heâd be landing back in Norfolk. Dean nearly spit out his beer when he read that, but finally just called her instead of yelling in his kitchen to himself.
âMONTHS, Charlie? When did you leave Spain?â
âUh⊠June?â She replied meekly.
âCharlie, itâs September now. You were just gonna let me think you were still in Spain all that time?â
âI mean, technically, I already did that. But if I told you, then it wouldnât be a surprise when I knocked on your door bearing gifts next week.â
âWait, gifts?â
âKnew that would get you,â Charlie said, and Dean could hear the grin in her voice. âYes, gifts. Iâve got like four years worth of souvenirs Iâve been collecting for you. Though maybe I should save them for Christmas, I mean, you waited this long for them, whatâs another few months? It would save me having to shop for you againââ
âFine, okay,â Dean said, finally cutting her off. Her point was made, though. âYeah, youâre the only gift I need, okay? Just get home safe. And sorry your surprise got ruined right before you could spring it.â
âAw, thanks Dean. Though I think I need to kick Frankâs ass, at least a little for this one.â
Dean snorted. âSure, but wait until you make port so I can help. And so he doesnât chuck your presents overboard just out of spite.â
âHe wouldnât do that,â Charlie said, then paused to consider that for a moment. âWould he really do that?â
Dean shrugged, taking his drink back to the sofa. âI heard he jettisoned some dudeâs laptop in the Black Sea once. Never got a straight answer as to why, but I wouldnât risk pissing him off aboard his own ship.â
âFine. It can wait. But heâs gonna feel like a real jerk when I hand him a present heâs gonna love and then toss it overboard in port.â After another second, she groaned. âNo, I canât do it. He can have the stupid candy I bought for him in Basra.â
âYouâre a gem, Charlie.â
âYeah, yeah, I know. I also donât have an ETA on Norfolk yet. Weâre apparently making good time, but our location and heading is classified, so all you get is a vague soonish.â
âI get it. Just keep an eye out for anything weird or suspicious, I guess. And keep Frank in the loop on it all. Heâs truly your partner in paranoia.â
âSo Iâve learned,â Charlie replied. âHeâs doing daily meetings with the entire crew. Everyoneâs on high alert. And unless someoneâs throwing messages in bottles overboard, all communications on or off have to go through me. So if someone is planning some elaborate heist on the high seas, Iâll hear about it.â
âThanks, Charlie. Samâll be relieved his crates full of old rocks are in such good hands.â After a momentâs consideration, Dean tacked on, âAnd his grad student, too.â
Charlie snorted. âKevin? Yeah, heâs a smart cookie. Iâve been trying to lure him to join my D&D campaign. He sits in and watches us play, but he brings his laptop and spends the whole session working on his thesis instead of actually participating. But at least heâs being semi social and not locking himself in his quarters. Thatâs the fastest way to turn yourself a little strange at sea.â
âYeah, been there, done that,â Dean replied, unable to keep the smile off his face. âWorst case scenario, sit him up on deck for at least an hour a day of sunlight and fresh air.â
âHeh, will do,â Charlie replied, and then yawned.âTake care, Dean, and see you real soon.â
âCanât wait. Night, Charles.â
After he hung up, Dean realized heâd been so overwhelmed by their entire conversation, he hadnât even thought about Cas for over an hour. Probably because he was very careful not to bring him up to Charlie in the first place. It only hit him as he got up to toss his empty bottle and get ready for bed. Charlie would be back soon enough, and he hoped by then he wouldâve gotten his infatuation with Cas out of his system.
Until that happened, there wasnât anything else he could do but suffer through the redoubling of his mindâs efforts to torment him about it in his dreams all night long. And it was a very long night. Though the chances heâd be stuck spending the entire day with Cas were really slim to none, and that thought buoyed him when he finally let himself get out of bed after tossing and turning most of the night. There really wasnât anything else he could do about it, other than hoping for the best. Maybe in the cold light of day when they were both busy with their respective work, heâd find a way to just be normal about the man.
Yeah, that was about as likely as Dick Roman offering him a million dollars a year to retire.
âïž
Cas eventually found his way back to base after watching Dean drive away from the diner. He meandered around town for a while, letting himself get lost a few times just to learn his way around. He parked in front of his empty little house and dragged the few bags of groceries heâd bought inside, wondering if he should call Claire and see if she was busy for dinner. He didnât really have a way to cook any of the things heâd bought, other than the microwave dinners, since his pots and pans were all still in transit, but it would be nice not to just sit alone with his feelings for the rest of the weekend.
As he was putting his things away, trying to decide which cupboard to store his new jar of peanut butter in, his phone rang. For one slightly insane moment he hoped it might be Dean, until he remembered he hadnât even given the man his number. Though he couldâve gotten it from Claire, he assumed as he searched the kitchen for where heâd put the phone down. By the time he found it behind the box of corn flakes heâd shoved to the corner of the counter, he answered it without even looking to see who was calling, and nearly dropped the phone when it wasnât Deanâs voice he was greeted with.
âCastiel, I hope youâre settling in,â Rufus said. âThought you should know, your earthly possessions should be arriving Tuesday, and the crate should be in your driveway by 1400 hours. I arranged for them to bring the keys to your office, or my office⊠our office for the next week. So if you need a day off to get unpacked, or any manpower to help you move furniture or whatever, let me know and Iâll arrange it for you.â
âThank you, Rufus,â Cas replied. âI donât have much, but help would be greatly appreciated. Itâll be nice not to have to sleep on the floor.â
Rufus snorted. âYou know you could sleep on my couch. Pretty sure Winchesterâs got a pull out bed for when his brother visits, too. I donât think heâd mind a temporary house guest. Hell, the sofa in the office ainât bad, either. At least let me loan you an air mattress. Sleeping on the floor is not a requirement.â
Cas laughed, only a little nervously at the prospect of calling Dean and asking to camp out in his home for a few days, but mostly at Rufusâs apparent horror at his sleeping situation.
âI do have an air mattress, which is also serving as my sofa and dining room table for now. Claire has also asked if I needed a place to stay until my possessions arrive. If I get truly desperate, Iâll just check in to the nearest motel for a night. I think I can survive until Tuesday.â
Rufus made a noncommittal noise. âIf youâre sureâŠâ
âYes, thank you, Iâm sure.â
While he put everything away and picked out a frozen lasagna to microwave for dinner, Rufus caught him up on the rest of the afternoonâs developments. It was a quantity of information overwhelming enough to help him forget the momentary horror of actually asking Dean to spend a few nights on his sofa. That could prove to be too awkward for his career to survive.
It was going to be difficult enough having to work with Dean every day, and unfortunately the rest of the weekend didnât make it any easier for him to work through his shockingly overwhelming feelings.
Chapter 6
Chapter Text
đ„ïž
With their Dick Roman issues temporarily tabled and Frank and his classified delivery estimate still out in the vaguely unforeseeable future, Dean was able to enjoy a relatively easy Monday at work. Yeah, Cas was there and they had to interact several timesâ including Cas meekly knocking on his office door at 0700 sharp to ask for a cup of coffeeâ but they kept it both professional and cordial, by Deanâs estimation. Maybe he just wasnât awake enough for anything else. Tuesday morning was another story.
Cas showed up at his office again, looking even more bedraggled and exhausted than he had the previous morning. When his boss struggled with the stack of paper cups beside his coffee pot, Dean got up and dug a big travel mug out of the cupboard and dumped half the pot of coffee in it for Cas.
âIâll put on a fresh pot if thatâs not enough,â Dean told him, handing the mug to Cas. âJust wash it and bring it back when youâre done. Gotta keep it handy for emergencies just like this,â he said with a sympathetic grin.
Cas just sighed, closing his eyes as he took a long sip. âI swear Iâm not usually this useless in the morning. It hasnât been easy settling in here when the only furniture in my house was designed for camping.â
Dean stared at him for a second, blinking in horror. âWait, you mean you donât even have a decent bed to sleep in?â
Cas shrugged. âNor a chair to sit on, or a table to eat at. But everything is supposed to arrive today.â
âWell, okay, then. Soon as I can get through with inspections today, weâre gonna get you set up right,â Dean said before his brain could override his impulse to be helpful. âI can probably snare Benny into helping, too. Get all your stuff outta whatever shipping container they probably parked on your front lawn so you can at least get a decent nightâs sleep tonight. I know itâs not really my place, but uh⊠youâre looking a little rough.â
Cas laughed, a miserable little sound. âYou shouldnât have to do that, Dean. Youâve already done a lot for me. And Benny, your fishing buddy? He doesnât even know me at all. I couldnât ask that of him.â
Dean made a dismissive sound and waved a hand as he turned back to his desk. Cas didnât have to know how much Benny was already aware of him. And Benny certainly wouldnât say anything to Cas about it, either. But if he wasnât busy with something else, he wouldnât be opposed to giving them a hand.
âIf heâs not on duty today, he wonât mind. His wifeâs still deployed, so he gets a little lonely and weird if I donât find new and interesting ways to keep him distracted.â
Cas just stood there drinking his coffee for a moment while thinking over Deanâs offer. Eventually he sighed, as if defeated.
âI guess I donât really have the luxury of declining your assistance. I was able to pack up some of my things, but the rest was all cleared out of my former house after I left. I doubt Iâd be able to move some of my furniture alone.â
âDude, thereâs no way you can move a whole-ass bed by yourself. Just take the help. Consider it a housewarming gift, or a thanks for not being a jerk of a boss gift, or whatever.â
Cas laughed at that, looking relaxed for the first time in days. âWell, thank you, Dean. I guess you can come find me when youâre free, and weâll see how many of my earthly possessions have been damaged in transit.â
Dean choked out a laugh at that. âYeah, I guess Iâm pretty lucky. I was stationed here right out of basic training and moved in with two duffel bags and a couple boxes. It all fit in my car. I didnât even own a bed yet. Iâve never had to move actual stuff before. Iâm really not looking forward to retirement. Might just leave everything behind and start over instead of trying to pack it all up.â
âI honestly considered it when I was told I was being transferred here. It just seemed like less hassle to let them move everything for me than having to go shopping for furniture while trying to deal with everything else.â
Dean just nodded at that. He might joke, but he loved his bed and wouldnât willingly part with it. The longer he stood there staring at Cas, the more he realized there were a lot of things in his life he wouldnât willingly part with. He loved his work, his friends, and he was just comfortable with the life heâd built for himself. And now Cas was in it, and maybe they really could just be friends too, even if the thought of that hurt his heart just a little bit.
He sighed, slumping down in his chair and picking up his own forgotten coffee. âOkay, then. I got a few reports to fill out here, and an osprey that needs a full inspection. Then Iâm all yours for the rest of the day.â
Dean cringed as soon as the words had left his mouth, but forced what he hoped didnât look like a pained smile.
Cas sighed. âThank you, Dean. Rufus assured me the delivery would be there shortly after midday, so take your time. Thereâs no rush.â
âYeah, as long as we get all your stuff indoors by sundown, you can worry about everything else after a decent nightâs sleep.â
âIâm genuinely looking forward to it,â Cas said, turning to leave with this coffee.
Dean let himself stare at his doorway for a few minutes after Cas left, then finally shook himself off and got to work. The rest of the day went far too quickly, and he hadnât even bothered to stop for a break yet when Cas wandered into the hangar to find him finishing up and signing off on the ospreyâs inspection report.
âRufus just handed me a key to the shipping container on my front lawn and told me to vacate the premises until I had suitably reassembled my life,â Cas said, making finger quotes.
Dean looked up from his work, blinked at Cas a few times, and then glanced up at the clock on the wall.
âDamn, is it already after three? I havenât even eaten lunch yet.â
He caught Cas frowning at him as he dropped everything on his workbench and pulled on his jacket.
âWell, Iâm going to head home. If youâre still willing to help, you can meet me there when youâre ready. Or else I can order pizza. I do believe thatâs the traditional payment for moving assistance, at any rate.â
âThat it is,â Dean agreed. âAnd itâs fine with me. I just need your address, or I guess I could follow you if youâre going right home from here.â
âI, uh⊠actually walked in this morning,â Cas said, looking contrite. âItâs not far, and I couldnât sleep for obvious reasons, and I guess I wasnât really thinking. I was hoping maybe you wouldnât mind driving me back.â
Dean stared at him for a second and then laughed. âYou walked all the way here? Dude, at least get yourself a scooter or something if you donât want to drive around base.â
Cas grumbled out, âThat has been entered on my to do list.â
âThen letâs get this show on the road. I can already smell Tonyâs pepperoni.â
Cas wasnât wrong. It was only a two minute drive to his little bungalow, only a few blocks from Deanâs place. But walking around base when he didnât have to seemed like an unnecessary hassle to Dean anyway. Dean pulled up on the street behind Casâs truck, since the shipping container took up his entire small driveway. Dean looked at it warily, and then shut off the engine and turned to Cas.
âPlease donât tell me that entire thing is full.â
Even Cas was giving it a look of horrified surprise, and shook his head slowly as he turned toward Dean.
âI donât think thatâs possible, unless itâs completely stuffed with packing peanuts or those little air pillows they fill shipping boxes with. I definitely do not own that much stuff.â
âHuh,â Dean said, staring at the full-size shipping container. âMaybe they were out of small boxes.â
âLetâs hope thatâs the case,â Cas muttered under his breath as he opened the door and got out of the car.
Dean stood beside him as Cas unlocked the big doors at the back of the container, making a comment that Cas was probably lucky they loaded it in the driveway with the doors pointed at the house.
âBuddy of mine transferred here from San Diego a few years back, and they dropped his with the doors facing the street. Had to carry everything he owned around the whole container to get it in the house.â
âSmall favors, I guess,â Cas said as he wrestled the big doors open and they swung back, revealing the container was barely half full.
âWell, this is a better situation than Iâd been imagining,â Dean said, strolling down half the length of the container and working a couple of dividing bars free and setting them aside. âYou got an order of preference, or just start at the front and work our way to the back?â
âThat does seem most practical,â Cas said, picking up the top box and noticing it was labeled âKITCHENâ in black marker. He turned it around to show Dean. âAnd rather conveniently self-explanatory.â
Dean grabbed another box marked KITCHEN and tested the weight of it. âProbably dishes and stuff, huh?â
Cas grinned at him, set his box down, and pulled out his phone, handing it to Dean. âUh, speaking of dishes, you probably know the local pizza places better than I do, if youâd like to place the order.â
Dean set his box down and pulled out his own phone. âYeah, and I got Tonyâs on speed dial.â
By the time theyâd made it through the kitchen stuff and moved on to the boxes labeled BOOKS, their pizza had arrived. Seeing as how they hadnât quite reached the furniture, they sat out on the front steps of the house enjoying the late summer afternoon while they ate. As they were finishing up, Deanâs phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket while trying not to fumble his last slice of pizza and only just managed to answer it before it went to voicemail.
âBobby, whatâs up?â
Bobby sighed on the other end of the line, and Dean could picture him in his office rubbing his temple just from the tone of that sigh. âI take it youâre not coming in to the CAP tonight?â
Dean checked his watch, remembered it was Tuesday, and grimaced at Cas.
âUh, I guess not. Was there something urgent that needed doing?â
âNo, not tonight, but in the next day or two, if your social calendar ainât too full. We got an official request for an escort patrol, the details of which Iâm not at liberty to divulge over the phone, is all. I just assumed Iâd see you in person. Hell, even your brother made a trip down for this news,â he added, which told Dean pretty much all he needed to know about the nature of the escort theyâd been asked to provide.
âHey, Dean,â Sam said, sounding like he was halfway across the room from the phone.
âYeah, Sam says hey,â Bobby repeated, in case Dean had missed it.
âHey to you too, Sam,â Dean said, now giving a very confused looking Cas an almost equally bewildered frown. âSounds like Iâm missing a major family event.â
Bobby sighed again. âJust be sure you stop in tomorrow, at least. I guess I should make a courtesy call to Rufus and Cas, too. They might wanna hear about it, and itâll be easier just to have to say it all once.â
âI donât know about Rufus, but Cas is sitting right here,â Dean said, and then to Cas added, âYou think you can swing by the Civil Air Patrol tomorrow afternoon? Bobbyâs got something to share.â
âThat shouldnât be a problem,â Cas said.
âThat shouldnât be a problem,â Dean repeated for Bobby.
âDoes your new boss have you working this late?â Bobby asked Dean.
âIn a manner of speaking,â Dean replied, and then sighed. âIâm helping him move in and you caught us during the obligatory pizza break.â
Bobby was silent for a moment, and then in a much quieter voice said, âYou sure you should be getting so friendly with your C.O.?â
Dean made a scoffing noise, but gave Cas an awkward glance before shuffling his plate off his lap and standing up. He walked out toward the street, holding up a finger toward Cas letting him know heâd be right back and making like he was going to grab something out of his car. It was the only way he could think of to get out of accidentally saying something regrettable where Cas could hear him. Once heâd reached the street, he turned back to see Cas collecting their plates and taking them into the house, and breathed a sigh of relief.
âBobby, you know Iâd help Rufus move without him having to ask, too, right?â
âUh huh,â Bobby replied. âSo I take it the two of you had a nice time at breakfast the other day, too?â
Dean let out a frustrated grumble and tugged at his hair as he paced back and forth along the length of his car. He knew he wasnât fooling Bobby, but he at least had to try to get past his own damn wayward feelings.
âThe guyâs been here for all of what⊠five days? He knows a grand total of four people in town and Iâm the only one who showed up to help him. So, yeah, itâs probably a good idea to be a decent human being to my C.O.â
âHmm,â Bobby replied completely unhelpfully. âJust⊠donât do anything stupid, Dean.â
âAnd that, as always, is excellent advice,â Dean replied grumpily. But after a moment of letting himself feel completely grumpy about it, he took a deep breath and blew it out. He stopped his frenetic pacing and leaned against the back of his car, his forehead in his hand. âIâm doing my damnedest, Bobby. I really am.â
On the other end of the line, Bobby softened and sighed. âI know you are. At least try to hold out on any career ending idiocy until the end of the week. We got too much sh*t going down as it is.â
Dean laughed at that, feeling invigorated after yet another bout of self-flagellation. âYeah, hopefully.â
âAll right then, Iâm gonna go see where Sam wandered off to, and Iâll see you tomorrow. And Dean?â
âYeah?â
âLift with your legs,â Bobby said, and then hung up.
Dean stood there for a second, then stared at his phone for another. He finally snorted, shoved it in his pocket and headed in to find Cas. They had a lot of work to do.
Claire showed up just a few minutes later, just in time to handle all the throw pillows while Dean and Cas struggled to get the sofa through the front door. While Claire watched on, directing and critiquing their interior decorating.
âMaybe you should put it over under the window so you can put the tv up against the other wall?â
âMaybe you should be grateful itâs all the way indoors,â Dean replied, standing up and rubbing his aching back.
âIâm grateful that the living room is directly inside the front door, and not down a hall and around another corner or two,â Cas added, flopping down on the sofa with a groan.
âUp and at âem, buddy,â Dean said, slapping Casâs shoulder as he headed back toward the door. âWe still gotta wrangle the mattress through the front door.â
Cas heaved himself up with a groan. âCan we just throw it on the floor in front of the sofa? I can sleep here tonight.â
Claire snorted at that. âUncle Cas, I respect your lack of interior design skills, but weâre not gonna let that happen.â
She patted Cas on the back more gently as they got back to work. It took some doing, and Benny showing up an hour later to help with the rest of the furniture, but eventually they got Casâs place into some semblance of order. Claire eventually convinced them all to rearrange the living room to her liking, mostly because it was also the only way all of Casâs bookshelves would fit in the space without having to completely block the front window with them.
âThe feng shui of this place isnât bad,â Claire said, standing back and admiring her work as she shelved books.
âIt does feel cozy enough,â Benny added in agreement. âMight need a houseplant or two, but itâs livable.â
Cas came out from the kitchen with drinks for all of them, and handed them out before dropping back onto the sofa and rubbing his own beer bottle across his forehead a few times.
âI canât thank all of you enough,â he said, looking to each of them in turn. âEspecially you, Benny. Claire is family, Deanâs just sucking up to his new boss,â he said while rolling his eyes at Dean. âBut youâve never even met me before today. Dean asked for your help, and here you are. Youâre an excellent friend.â
Benny squirmed a bit at being called out. âWell, shucks. Dean said you were a quality guy, and Elizabeth confirmed it for me. And Claireâs been talking you up for years. Thatâs all I needed to know.â
âYeah, that and Andrea wonât be back home for what, another week? You like keeping busy.â
âIt was certainly better than sitting home alone,â Benny confirmed, raising his bottle in a toast. âIâll drink to that.â
Claire leaned in toward Cas, with a nod at Benny. âWe all take turns keeping him occupied while his wifeâs off saving lives.â
Cas squinted at that. âAll Iâve managed to learn about you is that youâve known Dean for years, and youâre fishing buddies.â
Benny grinned at Cas, and then at Dean, and then settled back in his chair. âLong story short, I train salvage divers, so I donât venture far from home anymore. Andreaâs afloat as often as sheâs home. Sheâs a surgeon on the Solace, and currently en route home.â
âYeah, and he gets worse when he knows sheâs getting close,â Dean added. âThe anticipation is a bitch.â
âSheâs been gone six months, Dean,â Benny replied in a huff. âI got a right to miss my wife.â
Claire grinned at him. âIâd miss my wife, too.â
âYeah, but your girlfriend works on base. You donât gotta miss her much.â
âI miss her right now,â Claire said, getting to her feet. âI told her Iâd be home before nine.â
âFirst off, Iâm surprised you didnât bring her with,â Dean said. âAnd b, you just wanted an excuse to get home to watch your weird demon hunter show, didnât you?â
Claire picked up her jacket and walked toward the door. Before she could open it, she turned back to Dean.
âCas hasnât even met Kaia yet. Forced manual labor didnât seem like a great way for their first introduction to go. And my weird demon hunter show? Since you always seem to have an opinion about what those boys have gotten themselves into on the latest episode, I donât think you have a lot of room to stand there and judge, Dean.â
Cas got to his feet to see Claire out. âI am looking forward to meeting Kaia. Once I get everything unpacked,â he gestured around at the stacks of boxes cluttering every available flat surface, âIâd like to have you over for dinner.â
âWeâd love that, Uncle Cas,â Claire replied, smiling fondly at him. âI can come back tomorrow and help you get things sorted some more, if youâd like.â
Dean actually answered, âDonât forget we gotta head up to the CAP tomorrow afternoon, Cas.â He only felt weird about his interruption when he realized Benny was giving him a funny look. âOr, uh, I guess I could tell Bobby you had a family thing, if youâd rather hang back here. Heâd understand.â
Cas sighed. âDeanâs right. I did make a promise already.â
Claire took all this in stride. âThursday, then, if you still need help. Just give me a call when you know whatâs what.â She gave him a quick hug and then let herself out.
âI should probably get going too,â Benny said, getting slowly to his feet. âI gotta take six divers out for deepwater maneuvers, and we leave at oh four hundred.â
âCanât have you dragging ass in front of the kids,â Dean replied, and Benny ignored him completely.
âIf you all got your schedule fixed up for tomorrow, I think Iâll offer to cook for my sister.â
Before Dean could even open his mouth, Benny rounded on him like he knew what Dean was going to say from long experience. âAnd Iâll bring you back a slice of pecan pie.â
Dean just sighed. âThanks, Benny.â
When he was gone, Dean sat there finishing off his beer and looking around at everything theyâd accomplished, and everything still left to do. He shoved down the impetuous urge to offer to help Cas unpack. It still felt wrong to leave him there alone in a sea of boxes, but it also was definitely not even in the neighborhood of appropriate to just insert himself into Casâs life that deep. He kept reminding himself that while he was undeniably on friendly terms with Cas, they werenât really friends. At least, not yet. And if his feelings for the guy happened to spill out, he could land himself in a much larger pickle than just damaging a potential friendship.
He sighed, and then pushed himself to his feet, setting his empty bottle down beside Claireâs and Bennyâs.
âI guess I should be heading out, too,â he said, as Cas just stood there staring at him again.
âOh, yes, right,â Cas stammered out. âI suppose it is getting late. Thank you again, Dean. I sincerely appreciate everything youâve done for me.â
Dean smiled at him and hoped it didnât look as crazed as he felt on the inside. âAny time, Cas. If you need anything at all, you know where to find me.â
âI suppose Iâll see you in the morning, then.â
Dean had a moment of panic trying to parse what he meant, and then realized he was talking about work and not some breakfast date. Because they werenât dating, even if theyâd already shared more morning coffee than the last dozen people heâd actually dated. âRight, coffee. See you then.â
He gave Cas an awkward wave and then practically bolted out of the house before remembering heâd left his uniform jacket draped over a stack of boxes in the kitchen. Dean physically ran into Cas turning back so quickly and had to catch him by the shoulder to keep him from stumbling backward over the stack of boxes that Claire had emptied already. That unfortunately left them all but pressed up against each other, staring at each other in shock as they caught their breath.
âUh, sorry about that,â Dean muttered as soon as his higher brain functions kicked back online. A nervous laugh escaped in the wake of it.
âNo, no, itâs fine. You didnât know I was behind you.â Cas squinted at him, like he was trying to figure out exactly how theyâd wound up like this, standing breathless face to face.
Neither one of them moved.
For just one insane sliver of a second, Dean thought he was about to lean in the last two inches and plant a kiss on Cas. Or maybe Cas was about to plant a kiss on him. Either way, it was a terrible, wonderful, absolutely horrible idea, and also as good as dumping a bucket of ice water over Deanâs head.
âI forgot my jacket,â he said lamely, releasing Casâs shoulder to gesture vaguely toward the kitchen.
âCanât have you out of uniform,â Cas replied, equally vaguely, and then shook himself off enough to get his feet moving.
Dean just stood there watching him go, and was still standing there when Cas returned with his jacket. He couldnât be sure, but it had felt like an excruciatingly long time to just stand there. It was definitely more than past time to leave.
âHere you are,â Cas said, holding out his coat at armâs length and doing his finest impersonation of a smile.
Dean blinked at it for a second, and then reached out and took it. He looked back up at Cas, wringing the stiff fabric between his hands.
âHeh, thanks. I guess Iâll just go now,â he said, as if trying to convince himself of that fact and kick himself into actually doing it.
Dean turned on his heel and headed back toward the still open door. As he made his way across the front lawn, he couldâve sworn he heard Cas sigh just before the door clicked shut behind him. He stopped before walking around his car and looked back at the house for a minute, then sighed himself and shook his head, muttering see you tomorrow under his breath as he climbed behind the wheel and headed for home.
âïž
Cas paced around his house, half-heartedly poking through boxes while mostly feeling shaky and detached. He was supposed to be settling in, but heâd never felt more unsettled, including the time the single engine in his old Cessna stuttered to a halt twenty miles offshore. At least he knew what to do in the air. When it came to Dean Winchester, he was apparently far more than twenty miles out of his element.
Had Dean actually been about to kiss him? Worse yet, had he actually been about to kiss Dean? He had to be mistaken, right? They definitely got along well, which Cas also acknowledged as the understatement of the decade. If only his most persistent thought about Dean hadnât been if only I wasnât his commanding officerâŠ
Cas found himself standing in the kitchen staring at the pile of boxes heâd retrieved Deanâs jacket from, resisting the urge to see if he could still pick up Deanâs scent from the cardboard. It was definitely embarrassingly uncalled for that heâd actually paused in the kitchen for a moment to hold the jacket up to his face and take a few deep breaths before taking it back to Dean. He'd picked up the grease and metal scent of the hangar where Dean had been working all day, the old sun-warmed leather scent of Deanâs car, and the spicy, woody smell that was Dean himself.
I am his commanding officer, dammit.
Cas switched off the light and headed toward his bedroom. At least his bed was assembled already, even if he hadnât unpacked any of the other boxes enough to locate sheets and pillows and blankets. Theyâd been helpfully labeled, but it almost seemed like more trouble than it was worth to actually unpack it all that late at night. He only bothered to dig out his pillows and a blanket that he wrapped around himself like a cozy burrito before flopping down on the mattress. It was a definite step up from his temporary air mattress, at least. Heâd be able to toss and turn in relative comfort while attempting to banish his obsessive thoughts about Dean.
Heâd nearly drifted off when he sat bolt upright upon remembering that heâd promised to go with Dean the following afternoon to meet with Bobby. He wasnât sure he could cope with the half hour drive each way, alone with Dean. And he wasnât sure he had a reasonable objection to give Dean for refusing to drive together.
Cas slumped back down into his pillows, hoping heâd at least be able to get a decent nightâs sleep before having to deal with any of it. Despite the exhaustion of a very long day topped off with the intense six hour workout of moving everything he owned, it didnât really seem to be in the cards.
Chapter 7
Chapter Text
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Cas was already in his office making a cup of coffee when Dean got there the next morning. He hesitated in the doorway for a second before taking a deep breath and facing his fate. Unfortunately he was gonna need coffee to cope with it. Heâd slept terribly, and from the looks of him, Cas hadnât done much better.
âMorning,â Dean muttered as he moved up beside Cas and reached for the coffee pot.
There were a lot of things he could say, but none of them sounded even remotely appropriate. Even the most innocuous, like sleep well? or did you get settled in all right last night? felt uncomfortably personal. He just couldnât disconnect any of them from the awkwardly bewildering and inappropriately arousing last few minutes before heâd fled Casâs house. Luckily Cas spared him having to come up with a topic of conversation.
âGood morning, Dean. I was wondering if you had any aspirin. I havenât been able to find mine yet.â
Dean just grunted around the sip of coffee and then swallowed. âFigured youâd have a first aid kit handy, but yeah, hang on.â
He rummaged around in his desk drawer and came up with a bottle. He tossed it to Cas, who gratefully swallowed a couple before setting the bottle back on Deanâs desk.
âI believe I overexerted myself last night,â he said with a pained smile.
âYeah, same. But at least now you can take it easy with the rest of the unpacking,â Dean replied. âAll the hard sh*tâs done.â
âNo, all the large sh*tâs done. The hard sh*t is figuring out how to arrange everything in my new cupboards, versus just leaving everything in boxes until I need something and then desperately trying to find it.â
Dean snorted. âYeah, I get that. Iâve been here almost nineteen years and I still got a couple boxes shoved in the back of my closet with ancient crap in âem. I should just take it all to Sam and have him excavate it like one of his archaeology digs at this point.â
Cas actually laughed at that, and Dean just stood there and watched him. It was like the rest of the world just stopped completely for a few seconds, and the only thing happening was Casâs quiet laughter. He cleared his throat and shook himself off, forcing himself to strangle the warm feeling in his chest before it had a chance to spread. Dean still had to get some work done before they had to leave for the CAP. Which reminded him, he needed to hammer out those plans with Cas, too. Heâd been dreading it all night.
It was one thing to drive for a couple of minutes from the hangar to his house. It was something entirely different to be stuck in the same car for half an hour each way, with no means of escape and nothing to do but share each otherâs company. But it would be rude to just go without him, especially without even talking to Cas about it. There was also every chance Cas would let him off the hook.
âSo I was thinking of leaving around 4:30 for Bobbyâs.â
Cas narrowed his eyes for a second, and then nodded slowly when he figured out what Dean was talking about. âThat sounds reasonable.â
âYeah, figured Iâd ask if you wanted to ride with me. I might have to stay for an hour or two if Bobby needs me for anything. Might stop at a burger joint I like up that way afterward.â
Dean once again forced himself to stop talking. He wasnât supposed to be making it more enticing for Cas to want to join him. He definitely wasnât supposed to be turning the entire drive into some sort of weird date, or not-date. Definitely not a date. Just two friends getting burgers. Because itâs completely okay and normal to be friends with your commanding officer. Thereâs nothing inherently inappropriate about having dinner together. Heâd had dinner with Rufus more times than he could count, after all.
Only after standing there having a panic attack about all of that did Cas finally respond. If Dean hadnât been too busy with his own conflicted thoughts, he mightâve noticed that Cas seemed just as nervous. But by the time he spoke, heâd also pulled himself together, just a little.
âThat also sounds reasonable. Thereâs no reason to take two cars if we donât have to, and I do enjoy a good burger.â
âOkay then,â Dean said, dropping into his desk chair like his knees had given out on him. âI guess Iâll see you around 4:30. Iâll probably be in the hangar finishing up.â
âIâll meet you there,â Cas replied, still standing there like he wasnât sure if he was supposed to leave. He sprang into action a moment later, topping off his coffee mug and then giving Dean an awkward little toast with it as he hurried for the door.
Dean completely deflated the moment he was gone. It was like his brain could function properly again while not distracted by Casâs presence. It didnât really do much to stop the cavalcade of untoward thoughts and feelings, but at least the threat of saying something completely stupid out loud to him had been temporarily averted.
Dean shook his head at himself, then gathered up the dayâs work orders and his coffee and set off to get it all done.
He spent most of the day anxiously watching the clock. After lunch, he threw himself into his work to avoid obsessing over Cas, but while waiting for the oil to drain out of an engine or sorting the parts he needed for his next task, Dean still repeatedly caught himself drifting back toward those dangerous thoughts. As the time drew nearer and heâd finished up for the day, he spent the last ten minutes scrubbing his hands clean and psyching himself up for the long drive in the mirror above the sink.
âJust put on some tunes, chill, and then by the time you get to 50âs Burgers youâll have whatever Bobby wants to see us about in person to talk about anyway,â he muttered at his reflection while leaning on the sink.
When that didnât work to calm his nerves, he leaned forward, hands braced on the counter, stretching out his back and shoulders, groaning as his spine cracked. Of course, thatâs the moment Cas chose to walk in.
âIâm not interrupting anything,â he asked, hesitating in the doorway.
Dean finished his stretch, pushing backward with one foot, and then the other. Somehow it felt less weird to make it look like some sort of organized exercise routine to Cas than to awkwardly attempt to come up with another explanation. He finished by stretching out his shoulders, clasping his hands behind his back and then swinging his arms around. It didnât do much for the tension, but it did give him another minute to pull himself together.
âNah, Iâm ready to go. Just didnât want to sit and drive for half an hour without moving around a little first.â
Cas frowned at him as Dean walked past him toward the door. âDonât you move around all day long?â
Dean turned back and snorted from the doorway. âDifferent kind of moving, Cas.â
Cas thought about it for a second, and then nodded. âLike stretching after a five mile run.â
Dean banged one hand against the door frame and then pointed at Cas. âExactly like that. Though good luck trying to catch me running. Come on, letâs get going.â
Cas followed him out to the car and climbed into the passenger seat. Dean popped in a Zeppelin tape and let it play quietly enough so Cas wouldnât think he was trying to avoid talking to him, but loud enough to fill up the silence just in case. They were already headed toward the highway before Cas spoke again.
âSo were you implying that youâre too fast a runner for anyone to catch?â
âWhat?â Dean asked, glancing briefly at Cas before merging into traffic.
âYou said good luck trying to catch me running. Was that some sort of challenge?â
Dean snorted, and gave Cas a longer glance, grinning this time.
âI hold my own in a foot race, but if you actually see me running, you should probably run too, because it means the buildingâs on fire or something is about to explode,â Dean clarified.
Cas sat there with that information for a few moments, and when Dean glanced at him again he looked like he was struggling to process that information. Eventually he got there.
âSo you donât enjoy running.â
âDoes anyone?â
Cas shrugged. âI do. Itâs relaxing.â
Dean shook his head, merging into the next lane over and speeding up. âMy knees said running wasnât relaxing anymore about ten years back, and I listened to them.â
âCondolences on your knees, then,â Cas replied, and when Dean looked back at him again, he was stifling a laugh.
Dean just shook his head, shoving down the urge to grin at Cas. âMan, you got one weird-ass sense of humor.â
âItâs been said, yes.â
âYeah, I just said it,â Dean replied, finally losing the battle against grinning. And it was so worth it watching Cas bust out a full-on belly laugh.
The rest of the ride was both better and worse. Better because the tension heâd been holding in finally dissipated. There was nothing awkward about their conversation. They just allowed themselves to have fun in the little private bubble of Deanâs car. He always knew she was a little bit magical like that. But it was also worse, because they both let that careful construct of commanding officer and subordinate completely dissolve. Dean may have been grateful not to revisit the dangerous situation heâd found himself in the previous night, but he could clearly see how easy it would be to just drift over that line theyâd found themselves perched on in that frozen moment if he were to let his guard down completely. He just really liked Cas far too much.
Before they knew it, theyâd arrived at the CAP, still laughing at the last round of silly comments theyâd made. Dean had been once again teasing Cas about his dislike of boats, and the irony of a Navy Captain avoiding sailing at all cost, while Cas got in a few good-natured comments about Deanâs adamant refusal to board any of the aircraft he worked on all day long.
âWell at least we can both appreciate a good car,â Dean said, patting a hand on Babyâs roof as they climbed out.
He grinned at Cas across the roof and was unfortunately pulled away from fully enjoying Casâs return smile by a commotion across the parking lot outside Wellman Air next door. It looked like Edgar was about to slug some guy, and the only thing keeping them both from going for the world heavyweight title right there on the spot was the receptionist Hannah leaving for the day. The guy Dean didnât recognize stared Edgar down for a moment before turning on his heel and then storming off toward his car. Edgar watched him go with a disgruntled sort of satisfaction, and then turned to notice both Dean and Cas staring back at him. Dean gave him a little wave of acknowledgement, and then he and Cas exchanged a glance and they both made a beeline for the door. There was a silent, mutual agreement that whatever had gone down next door was none of their damn business.
Dean stood outside the door for just another moment to make sure Hannah had made it to her car unscathed, and she gave him a grateful little nod as she backed out of her spot. She looked out for him often enough, it was the least he could do to return the favor. He returned her nod, and then followed Cas inside.
âYou boys see a ghost?â Bobby asked as they hurried through the door.
âNah, just Edgar having a screaming match with some asshole in a mid-level suit in the parking lot,â Dean said. âIf the dude decides to commit attempted vehicular homicide, I donât need to be a witness to that.â
Bobby grunted, then turned toward his office. âGood, because we got enough problems as it is without adopting the neighborsâ.â He turned back for a moment and nodded at Cas. âGood to see you again, Captain.â
The title threw both Dean and Cas for a second, after Bobby had been using his actual name the other day. Dean took it as the warning Bobby intended it to be when Bobby gave him a pointed look before heading into his office.
âShut the door behind you and take a seat,â Bobby said, bypassing all other pleasantries. âYou both got security clearances for this, but nobody else in the building does.â
âThereâs someone else in the building?â Dean asked, stopping to shut and lock the door behind him.
âFront doorâs unlocked, so yeah, we got a few kids working through the Cessna course in one of the classrooms.â Bobby thought about it for just a second and then made a face at Dean. âJust sit your ass down already so we can get this over with before that ship pulls into port.â
Dean had just dropped into a chair and slumped back, and then sat bolt upright at that.
âWait, the ship with Samâs junk on it? Itâs almost to port?â
Bobby sighed and sat heavily back in his own chair. âNot due until Friday, but theyâre getting close enough Rufus and I have been doing regular patrols to keep an eye on the area around them. Strictly off the books.â
âI take it thereâs been nothing untoward?â Cas asked, casting a concerned glance at Dean.
âNot that we could see, and thatâs the problem.â
âSo, what, you think Dickâs got a stealth submarine or something waiting to attack?â
âI wish,â Bobby replied. âGot a couple weird messages from Frank yesterday, and one a lot less weird, but still weird enough to be worrisome, from Charlie this morning.â
âStart with Frank, then,â Dean replied. âItâs always good to start at wackadoo and then get actual facts later.â
âFrankâs not wackadoo,â Bobby replied, reconsidering. âAt least not in this case. One thing we got in common is a healthy sense of paranoia, even if Frank doesnât always get it right the first time around.â
âThatâs an understatement,â Dean replied, then explained for Cas. âDudeâs absolutely convinced the March of Dimes is a front for some huge government conspiracy.â
âWill you just shut up and let me get through this?â
Dean clamped his mouth shut and gave Cas a conspiratorial glance, like they were naughty school children sent to the principal for misbehaving. Only Cas still looked bewildered. Dean figured heâd understand once he met Frank, and had to let it go for now.
âA couple sailors seemed off on Sunday night. Frank thought maybe theyâd somehow gotten contraband aboard and theyâd missed it in the sweeps theyâd been doing of the whole ship.â
âContraband?â Cas asked. âLike alcohol?â
Bobby shrugged. âOr drugs, Frank didnât seem to know. He just knew they werenât acting like themselves. Listless, mostly. One of his men went so agro they locked him in his quarters until he calmed down.â
âAnd they never found anything?â Dean asked. âSeems kinda improbable, considering Frankâs standard paranoia level for that sort of sh*t.â
Bobby shook his head. âEveryone was fine by sunup, passed their piss tests and everything.â
âAnd knowing Frank, he went to DEFCON 1 about it.â
âEveryone on that ship now has a partner keeping track of everything they do, on and off duty. Failure to report in gets an automatic review.â
âYeah, sounds like Frank.â
Bobby snorted. âHe was convinced that something oozed its way out of the ocean and possessed his crew for a few hours, and then slunk back into the water before they could catch it. Gave âem all blood type tests to confirm their identity, in case his crew had been swapped out with replicants. He went on about the Bermuda triangle for a while before I got him back to talking sense.â
Dean let out a quiet laugh. âIâm sure Charlie has a more measured view of what happened?â
âShe thinks it was some kinda food poisoning,â Bobby replied. âShe didnât mention that to Frank out of concern heâd lock the shipâs cook in the brig until they made port, and she was sure the crew would mutiny if they cut off food service for three entire days.â
âAnd thatâs it?â Dean asked. âI mean, that could happen on any boat. It has happened on a lot of boats. Couple bad cans of beans and everyoneâs gone paranoid about it? What gives?â
âCharlieâs worried it was just a test run,â Bobby replied. âOr maybe a failed attempt.â
âAttempt at what?â Dean and Cas said in unison, and then glanced at one another before turning grimly back to Bobby, who sighed heavily.
âThey had another round of odd behavior out of a different group of sailors last night. Same deal, though. Just shirking their duties and acting stoned. Hit âem all while theyâd been on duty for a couple hours, so itâs not like they couldâve sneaked off to get high, and it was an hour before dinner so none of them had eaten recently. If itâs food poisoning, itâs nothing Iâve ever heard of before.â
âI assume Charlieâs made spreadsheets about it though,â Dean replied with a smirk. âFigured out where they were, who they were with, what they ate and touched.â
âYeah, and none of itâs giving her any answers. They didnât eat together, hadnât interacted with the same people, in some cases were on different decks. Itâs like someone is deliberately infecting them with something, and Charlie canât figure out how.â
âNo way Frankâs got a mole on his ship. He woulda figured that out in five minutes flat.â-
âWould he, though?â Cas replied. âI mean, Dick Roman has been extending his reach far wider than any of us had known about before the last few days. It seems everyone suddenly has a story about how they were approached for recruitment into Roman Enterprises. Perhaps one of Frankâs crew thought it was an offer too good to refuse.â
Dean snorted and sat up, thinking he was about to explain how Frank wouldâve seen right through that, but he stopped himself and turned to Bobby.
âWho exactly is on that ship? The crew, yeah. But thereâs civilians on board too, right? Some archaeologist, and Samâs nerdy little sidekick, at least?â
âSeveral,â Bobby replied. âThereâs Kevin Tran, the grad student who works for Sam, and their Iraqi colleague Samâs been working with on this for like a decade now. Plus they got someone from the university overseeing it all. Some busybody type who mostly keeps everyone else from messing with the cargo, according to Charlie.â
âAnd none of them have been hit with the munchies yet?â Dean asked.
âUntil today, it was only enlisted sailors who went down. Charlieâs been surviving off her hoard of candy she picked up in Istanbul a couple weeks back, and that much sugar is not doing her any favors, even if she thinks sheâs protecting herself from whateverâs going on.â
Dean shook his head imagining Charlie working through a constant sugar rush and feeling a little glad he wasnât there to witness it. Or deal with her like that. He leaned back in his chair to really think about it. âSounds like someone onboard is running psyops on them. Are they sure theyâre not in some f*cked up simulation experiment?â
âCharlie hasnât written it off as a possibility.â
âFrank I expect it from, but Charlie?â
âCharlie sent a message about an hour ago that they had another outbreak. Half the crew is down with it now, with several repeat performances. One of Samâs colleagues went down with it, too. The universityâs representative and general busybody. Sheâs making a minor stink about it, too. And another sailor went batsh*t and got in a shouting match with a porthole. Threatened to punch it so hard its mother would feel it.â
âImagine giving birth to a porthole,â Dean replied, shuddering, which earned him a couple of rightfully judgmental glares from Cas and Bobby. âRight, not the point,â he added, clearing his throat. âMaybe one of Samâs funky rocks is cursed?â
âThe entire crew and cargo should be quarantined,â Cas said, not exactly dismissing Deanâs latest suggestion, but redirecting it into something they could actually work with. âJust in case whatever is happening on board is contagious.â
Bobby grunted. âRight now, thatâs the plan. The Solace is en route to rendezvous with them offshore to evaluate the situation. But since the cargo is already an international news story on its own, even if the vessel and route are classified, itâs not like we can just keep a whole-ass military cargo ship quarantined off Norfolk very long before someone starts asking questions.â
âSo theyâre gonna need to work quick,â Dean replied. âAnd until then, thereâs not really much we can do, is there.â
Bobby nodded. âSamâs pretty shaken up. The university rep on board is the button pusher who makes the money go for his department, and if this minor international incident turns into a major political debacle, the fallout ainât gonna be pretty.â
âDude, itâs not like Samâs a sick mastermind behind some biological terrorism thing here,â Dean argued. âItâs just his name on the shipping labels. Thatâs like my mailman blaming me for giving him the clap just because he happened to have my mail in his truck.â
Once again, Bobby and Cas both stared at Dean, and he squirmed in his seat.
âI ainât got the clap, okay? And neither does my mail. And far as I know, my mailmanâs fine too. Thatâs why the metaphor works,â he grumbled.
âOkay, then,â Bobby replied, dismissing all of that like he was trying to unhear it too. âYou two now have all the information I do. I was gonna take a pass out over the S. S. Disaster Zone and see what I can see if either of you would care to join me, but aside from that thereâs really not much more I can tell you for now. And nothing I told you leaves these four walls. I technically wasnât even supposed to tell you anything. Figured you deserved to know.â
âThanks, Bobby,â Dean said. âSam shouldnât have to stress over all this on his own.â
âYeah, heâs relieved to know you know about it all. But you still probably shouldnât talk to him about it over an unsecured line.â
Dean nodded. âGot it. Weâll just use code. And Iâm definitely taking a pass on a three hour tour of a potential hot zone, so if Cas wants to play lookout for you at five thousand feet, Iâm gonna head on over to 50âs Burgers to pass the time until you get back or meet your untimely demise.â
âAnother rousing show of confidence from my chief of avionics,â Bobby muttered. Louder, he said, âDidnât expect anything else from you, Dean.â
âIf Deanâs going for dinner, then I think Iâll join him,â Cas said, slowly standing up. âI donât like to fly on an empty stomach, and I havenât eaten all day.â
âYeah, we canât let you starve, Cas,â Bobby said. âIâm just waiting for Claire to get back to report in, and then Iâm heading out. You all go and enjoy the food,â he added, glaring at Dean as he got to his feet, as if to remind him not to enjoy it too much.
Dean froze halfway to his feet, took a deep breath, and then stood and turned to find Cas waiting patiently, if not a little confused by that exchange.
âIâd bring you something back, but itâll probably just congeal waiting for you. Nobody likes cold french fries.â
Dean grinned at Bobby, and then gave him a terse nod to say message received. Received, but he wasnât sure how much longer he could keep having less fun than heâd like to be having with Cas. It wasnât entirely in his control, and that thought in itself was enough to hold him in check, at least for now.
Chapter 8
Chapter Text
đ„ïž
âOkay, get it outta your system now,â Dean said once he and Cas were back in the car.
Cas just looked at him, still a bit bewildered, and Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes.
âItâs not like we can sit in public chatting about any of that,â he said, pointing back at the hangar door as if Cas couldâve forgotten the last half hour of their lives already. âSo if you got urgent commentary, you got about ten minutes to let it out.â
Cas sat silent for a moment, and then added, âWe could always talk about it after we eat, as well. It honestly might take that long for it all to assimilate and make any sense.â
Dean snorted and started the engine. âSoon as you meet Frank, it might start making a little more sense.â
âDoes he often encounter such unusual problems?â Cas asked as Dean backed out.
Dean paused before shifting into drive and just gave Cas an amused look before proceeding. âIf he didnât, heâd invent them for himself. Heâs a pretty creative guy.â
Cas was quiet again for a few minutes while Dean drove. Eventually, heâd evidently processed enough to come up with something that nobody else seemed to have hit on yet.
âWhat if the entire episode is a diversion?â
Dean had become complacent driving in silence, and for just a second he had no idea what Cas was even talking about. âEpisodeâ unfortunately triggered the part of his brain that was secretly obsessed with Dr. Sexy MD, and yeah, he was sure the latest episode had been a diversion to put the brakes on a relationship that was getting too hot and heavy too fast, but he was equally sure that was not what Cas was trying to discuss with him. He just frowned at Cas and grunted. Cas shifted in his seat and elaborated for him.
âWhat if the suspected food poisoning incidents are doing exactly what theyâre supposed to do. If Dick Roman really is trying to meddle with something, what if the only way he could do that was to detain the ship in quarantine offshore until a medical team could clear them to come into port?â
Dean considered that. âYou think he wants the delivery delayed for some reason? Wasnât this supposed to be some sort of big deal for him? Why would he want to put on the brakes now?â
âPublicly, yes, itâs a big deal for him,â Cas replied. âA grand altruistic gesture he can capitalize on. But what is he trying to gain from this personally?â
Dean thought back to his first chat with Sam about it all. They both thought Romanâs sudden interest in archaeology and his high profile dealings to not only bring that entire shipment of goods right to his backyard, but right into the lab of someone heâd just made that extremely generous and highly public donation to. At the same time, he seemed to be attempting to recruit anyone in the Air Force or Navy that had even the loosest connection to Sam or Dean himself. It was an awful lot of suspicious timing. Dean didnât get to say any of that before Cas spoke again.
âHe makes his fortune from the military, from acts of war, and yet his public face is always using that money and power for what appear to be altruistic acts. Yet if you look closely enough, he always seems to have his own reasons for the money he spends. Like the offer he made to Bobby. It seemed so generous on the surface, but in making that grand gesture, he intended to buy Bobbyâs silence, and yours as well.â
Dean nodded as he turned into the restaurantâs lot and found a spot to park. He turned off the engine and then turned to Cas. They definitely needed to finish this conversation before getting out of the car and walking out in public.
âWeâre thinking about this backwards,â Dean said. âWe assumed he was trying to win us over, to recruit all of us, but thatâs just a distraction, too. He wants something in one of those crates, and he wants to get his hands on it before Sam can.â
Cas nodded slowly. âThat is a possibility that seems dangerous to overlook, yes.â
Dean took a deep breath. âProbably too late to run back and give Bobby the heads up on it since heâs probably out over the ocean already, and thereâs not really anything Sam can do about it, so weâre gonna have to take it to Rufus.â
Cas glanced forlornly over his shoulder at the restaurant. The smell of burgers and fries had permeated the car, and Deanâs stomach growled at him to do something about that. He smirked at Cas and then opened his door.
âWhich weâll do as soon as weâre done eating. Nobody should have to deal with this sh*t on an empty stomach.â
âIâm sure itâll keep for an hour or two,â Cas agreed, getting out of the car.
It probably wouldnât have been an issue for them to keep talking about Dick Roman since it was seven oâclock on a Wednesday night and the restaurant was deserted. They sat alone at an outdoor table and enjoyed the crisp evening air and a couple of fantastic bacon cheeseburgers. Instead of Dick, they talked about a hundred other little things that had nothing to do with anything other than resuming their now familiar dance around their feelings.
Dean talked more about his childhood with Sam, and Cas answered with stories of his life growing up in his power and status obsessed family where Dick Roman wouldâve fit in better than he ever did. They diverged into the topic of what they each did for fun, and Dean was shocked to discover that Cas also had a mildly unhealthy obsession with Dr. Sexy MD. Dean laughed his ass off when Cas admitted it, and Cas was momentarily offended.
âHuman drama is endlessly fascinating,â he argued while Dean cackled. âEspecially the contrived intensity they manage to exceed in each successive season.â
Dean wiped his eyes and shook his head. âDude, Iâm not laughing at you. Just, in the car when you said something about the episode being a diversion, all I could think about was Dr. Meganopolis faking the cancer test results to try to win back Dr. Sexy from the nurse of the week. It all felt like a diversion to keep their relationship on the back burner while they push this dumb face transplant arc. Took me a second to remember you werenât talking about Dr. Sexy.â
Cas just blinked at him and then laughed. âWell, maybe that is what I was talking about.â
Dean sat there finishing off his fries and just enjoying listening to Cas vent about the latest run of episodes. It only added to his problems, though. As enjoyable as it was, it was just more evidence to throw on the growing mountain of proof that he was falling way too hard and far too fast for Cas. As much as he wanted to just let that happen, to just let himself have that, he realized he was finally beginning to settle into the acceptance that this was all he was allowed to have with Cas. This friendship would just have to be enough for him.
The weirdest thing was that despite their undeniable chemistry, Dean was already growing to value their blossoming friendship too much to want to put that at risk in pursuit of anything more. It wasnât easy to resign himself to that, but Deanâs imagination was more than enough to sustain him, especially now with this renewed sense of hope that maybe eventually heâd be able to get over his longing for something more with Cas.
None of that stopped Dean from longing for it, though. Quite the contrary. The more he learned about Cas, the more he wished things could be different between them, but also the more he valued the fact he was able to know Cas at all. And it was both wonderful and the worst thing in the world.
When they were finished eating, Dean pulled out his phone and called Rufus as they walked back to the car.
âWhat do you want?â Rufus asked when he answered, and Dean caught the surprised look on Casâs face and did his best to hide his grin.
âYou at home?â Dean replied.
âNo, Iâm in Monte Carlo playing baccarat. Of course Iâm at home.â
âCas and I will be there in twenty,â Dean said, and hung up as he climbed behind the wheel.
Cas was still standing outside the car staring down at Dean. Dean leaned over until he could see Casâs stunned face.
âYou getting in, or would you rather walk?â
Dean started the engine as Cas sat and shut his door, giving Dean a funny look he only noticed when he turned to back out.
âWhat?â Dean asked absently as he focused on driving.
âYou just issued an order to your commanding officer like it was nothing.â
âYou gonna write me up for insubordination?â Dean asked, teasing Cas, but there was a thread of tension there like maybe he finally did cross a line that Cas couldnât abide. âBecause Rufus ainât gonna do it.â
Cas just slowly shook his head, and when they pulled up at a red light Dean finally realized that Cas was doing everything in his power not to start laughing out loud. Dean rolled his eyes and sighed.
âI told you Iâve known Rufus since I was a kid. Trust me, he prefers the no bullsh*t approach.â
âI believe thatâs evident now, yes,â Cas replied.
They pulled in to Rufusâs driveway just over twenty minutes later, and Rufus was on his porch waiting for them.
âYouâre late,â he said, and went into the house leaving the door open for them. âSo whatâs so urgent it couldnât wait for tomorrow?â
He sat down at his kitchen table and waited for Dean and Cas to sit across from him.
âAnd is this gonna require whiskey to swallow?â
âProbably not,â Dean replied. âWe just came from the CAP.â
Rufus nodded. âBobby filled you in on all the bullsh*t then. You sure this wouldnât go better with whiskey?â
âMaybe by the time weâre done,â Dean said. âWe were wondering what Dick Romanâs involvement in⊠like⊠everything lately is really about.â
âHeâs taken an interest in all of our lives lately, and we all assumed he was trying to recruit us specifically for some reason, but what if all of that is a distraction?â Cas asked. âWhat if he really wants access to the cargo on that ship before Sam can take delivery of it?â
Rufus nodded. âYeah, we wondered if maybe heâd managed to get some sort of contraband packed into those crates. Smuggle something in under the guise of it being just another innocuous old rock from an archaeological dig. But the crew that packed the crates swears up and down thereâs nothing unaccounted for in any of them. And they had eyes on them from both the Iraqi culture minister and someone from the State Department. They didnât want any misunderstandings about what was leaving the country on an American military vessel.â
âNo, maybe heâs not smuggling anything. What if he just wants something in one of those crates for himself?â
Rufus stared at Dean for a second. âAre you accusing Dick Roman of international antiquities theft?â
âWell he ainât technically stolen anything yet,â Dean replied, and then laid out all the details he and Cas had put together, from the fact heâd financed the entire expedition, to the scanning equipment heâd generously donated to Samâs department, to pressing all of them with either outright offers of recruitment to work for him or otherwise attempting to secure their silence through other legal means. It was a rather compelling pile of evidence.
âSo you think heâs trying to cover all his bases?â Rufus asked. âAnd when none of us took the bait to join Team Dick, heâs somehow resorting to poisoning the crew by telepathy or something?â
Dean slumped back in his chair while Cas answered.
âWe havenât exactly figured out that part yet.â
âYeah, and telling Frank he might have a Dick Roman sleeper agent on his ship ainât gonna help anyone.â
Rufus nodded solemnly. âYeah, thatâs definitely for the best. But one way or another, we need to find out if anyone on that ship is on Romanâs payroll.â
âYeah, creating a mild panic aboard ship, just enough to get it quarantined, keep it out at sea for a few days, is all theyâd need to do,â Dean said. âThey might not even know what Dick has planned.â
âIf weâre not prepared to interrogate Frankâs crew,â Cas said after the three of them had sat there grumbling about it for a few minutes, âthen what about the crew of the hospital ship scheduled to rendezvous with them? If Dick really is behind all of this, itâs possible that someone onboard is prepared to steal whatever it is Dick wants.â
âYeah, who better to do that unnoticed than someone going aboard with a bunch of bulky medical gear supposedly scanning for contamination or germs or whatever they do,â Dean replied. âI mean, they must at least carry those little doctor bags they could cram a rock or two into.â
Rufus gave him a level look. âYou been watching too much Doctor Sexy again, havenât you, boy. That sh*t will rot your brain, son.â
Dean was afraid to glance at Cas for fear heâd break out laughing, and pushed on. âMaybe, but if Roman couldnât get one of his lackeys past Frank, and couldnât get someone here on base to do his dirty work either, then maybe this was his plan C.â
âHe still wouldâve technically had to get at least one lackey past Frank,â Cas replied. âSomeone on that ship is drugging the crew with something.â
âOr someone with a connection to Dick that everyoneâs been overlooking,â Dean replied, pulling out his phone and calling Sam.
âHey, Dean, howâs it going?â Sam asked.
âDonât say anything you canât over an open line,â Dean replied. âBut whatâs the name of the bean counter traveling with your cargo?â
âWhat? Uh, why?â
âJust the name, Sam.â
âGloria Jane.â
âThanks, Sam. I gotta go, but Iâll talk to you soon.â
âSure thing. Just make it less weird next time,â Sam replied.
Dean snorted. âHereâs hoping.â
âHow do we find out if Gloria Jane is somehow on Dickâs payroll?â Dean asked. âI mean, at minimum, sheâs the one who accepted his generous donation and is holding all the purse strings on Samâs department. At the least, she might be getting a nice fat kickback from all of that.â
âNot to mention what the publicity around it all could do for her career,â Cas added. âShe stands to gain a lot from the success of the whole project regardless of whether Dick is writing checks to her.â
âOr setting up a nice Swiss bank account for her,â Dean grumbled out. âProbably wouldnât take much for her to spike a few drinks under the guise of delaying delivery for a few days to hype it up even more in the media, or for the logistics of making sure everythingâs in place to transfer it all securely back to the university,â Dean added.
Cas gave him an approving nod, like he was impressed that Dean had come up with such a tidy solution.
âShe may not have any idea what Dick is actually planning,â Cas added.
âYou two do know that we donât have any idea if heâs planning anything at all either. For all we know, weâre just concocting wild and unfounded conspiracy theories about the man,â Rufus said. standing up. âI think I need that drink now.â
He poured himself a shot of whiskey and didnât even offer any to Dean or Cas. Neither of them complained. Drinking didnât seem like it would make it any easier to come to terms with the fact that there might not actually be anything weird going on at all.
âEither the two of you got yourselves wound up tighter than Frank, or youâre closing in on stopping a major international incident. And honestly, Iâm not sure which is worse.â
Dean and Cas looked at each other in mild panic. Had they really invented this entire scheme just because Dick Roman is that big of a douchebag? Dean momentarily wondered if it was some sort of psychological break from the double whammy of meeting Dick and Cas both within twelve hours of each other. Maybe his little mind couldnât handle that sort of overload and generated this entire conspiracy to keep him distracted. No, he waved one hand to cancel out that line of thinking.
âSomething ainât adding up with that guy, Rufus,â Dean insisted. âHe wants access to whateverâs in those boxes bad enough that heâs already spent a few mil to bring it all stateside. If it was really an international goodwill gesture, he couldâve just donated all that lab equipment to the team in Iraq instead of moving the whole haul into his backyard.â
âHe wouldnât get to be the smiling face of all this groundbreaking discovery if he did that,â Cas argued.
âDonât play devilâs advocate with me,â Dean replied. âI thought you were on my side here.â
âI thought you were on my side,â Cas replied. âSince it was my idea in the first place.â
Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath before replying. âYeah, youâre right, sorry.â
Cas didnât let him wallow in that too long, at least.
âBut if weâre attempting to accuse a well known and powerfully connected private citizen of this sort of crime, then it seems prudent to be sure that an actual crime is being committed, and not just imagined.â
Dean shrugged. He couldnât really argue with that.
âBut regardless,â Rufus said, interrupting their latest round of just staring at one another, âit would be stupid not to at least quietly do a little background check on the folks who will be boarding Frankâs ship tomorrow.â
âTomorrow?â Dean asked. âI thought it wasnât due here until Friday?â
âYou are familiar with how boats work, right? They move around the ocean and do their business way out there. The Solace is set to rendezvous with Frank tomorrow evening.â
âHuh, well first off, Benny will be happy to know his wifeâs that close to home,â Dean said. âAnd B, that donât leave us a lot of time.â
âMaybe we shouldnât have stopped for burgers,â Cas muttered.
âYou stop it with that crazy talk,â Dean muttered back, and Cas grinned at him. Dean turned back to Rufus. âYou got someone who can do a quick and dirty background check on that crew?â
âYup,â Rufus replied, picking up his phone and sending a series of texts. After a few minutes, he set his phone down, folded his hands on the table, and then looked back and forth between them as if he was waiting for them to share additional information. âWe done here?â
Dean and Cas exchanged a nervous glance. There really wasnât anything else they could do.
âI donât suppose youâll give us a heads up if your top secret source uncovers a vast conspiracy of Roman moles on the Solace,â Dean muttered, and Rufus just raised an eyebrow at him and took another sip of his drink. âYeah, thatâs what I thought.â
âAll this is interfering with my easy retirement,â Rufus said after another moment. âI will tell you that Iâve been ordered to remain in my post until further notice, so someone up the chain is taking this seriously.â
âI suppose thatâs as much as we could ask for,â Cas replied, knowing that if all of this had happened just a few days later it wouldâve fallen squarely in his lap instead of landing on Rufus. Somehow, he couldnât regret being one rung removed from the official chain of command yet. âI donât envy the position this has put you in, but Iâm grateful for your help now.â
Rufus sighed and set his glass on the table. âOff the record, Iâm positive the two of you are on to something here. Iâve been side-eyeing Roman for a while now, and if this is the thing that finally takes him down, the Navy will be better off for it.â
âFeels a little like getting Al Capone for tax evasion, but after meeting the guy, Iâll take it,â Dean replied. âI kinda had the urge to mop the floor when he left.â
Rufus snorted and grinned at Dean approvingly.
âSo thatâs where we are, then,â Cas said, and then sighed as he got to his feet.
Dean patted one hand on the table and then stood as well. âGuess I should get you back to your truck, eh? Itâs getting kinda late.â
Cas glanced at the clock hanging above Rufusâs back door and frowned. âIt has been a very long day, yes.â
âI trust you can see yourselves out?â Rufus said, picking up his phone again. âI got a couple more calls to make to follow up on this mess.â
âYeah, sure,â Dean replied, reaching into his pocket for his keys. âSee you tomorrow. And thanks for hearing us out and not just writing the whole thing off.â
âYou just gave me an excuse to do what Iâd been wanting to for months. Actionable intelligence, even if the intelligence part of it is up for debate,â Rufus replied. âNow get out of my house.â
Dean stood up straight and gave Rufus a proper salute before turning on his heel and heading to the front door. Cas followed behind a moment later, and as soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Dean made him an incredibly impulsive offer.
âIf you want, I can just drop you at home, and then pick you up again tomorrow morning before work if youâd rather not bother picking up your truck tonight.â
Cas watched him for a moment as they walked down the sidewalk to Deanâs car, and then nodded. âThat works for me, if itâs not too much of an inconvenience for you.â
Dean grinned at him. âNot a bit.â
And thatâs where Dean went from incredibly impulsive and tipped over the line into flat-out idiotic territory. In his defense, he wasnât entirely sure what came over him. Maybe it was just the calm smile Cas was giving him across the roof of his car, or the consequence of too much intensive speculationâ or borderline conspiracyâ that pushed him into recklessness. Maybe he just wasnât done trying to mentally hash it all out, either. He opened the door, but before he could slide behind the wheel, he stopped and his mouth started working before his brain could fully engage.
âIf you want, we could swing by my place on the way. Itâs only a couple blocks from here, and I could offer you the drink that Rufus didnât. Plus I got half a pie in the fridge if youâre a late night snack kinda guy.â
When Cas just stared at him, unblinking, Dean felt his cheeks going warm and mentally beat himself over the head as he quickly climbed in the car and shut the door. Unfortunately Cas was also climbing inside, and that temporary escape from complete humiliation wasnât destined to last. They just sat there, both staring straight ahead, even though Dean still hadnât started the engine.
Dean was finally about to break the suddenly uncomfortable silence when Cas turned to him looking resolved.
âAll of that sounds pleasant, and would be most welcome.â
Dean heaved a relieved sigh that almost immediately rebounded into panic territory when it fully registered what Cas had actually agreed to. It wasnât like he could back out now, so he girded himself and started the engine.
âOne shot of whiskey, and one slice of pecan pie coming right up,â he muttered, shooting Cas a nervous glance before resolutely heading for home.
Chapter 9
Chapter Text
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There really wasnât anything else for them to discuss. Theyâd had the last four hours to squeeze every bit of theorizing out of their systems, and even if they did suddenly stumble over new information, Dean recognized that he was just too tired to dive back into all of it anyway.
An unmercifully short time later, he pulled up in front of his home and shut off the engine. The tension inside the car was thick enough to cut with a chainsaw, and he glanced over to see Cas looking equally at a loss and at least as nervous as he felt. Weirdly, it sort of helped. At least Dean wasnât alone in the feeling.
âThis is my place,â Dean said dumbly, pointing at the little townhouse heâd lived in for the vast majority of his adult life.
âI assumed so,â Cas replied, nodding absently and staring at the front door instead of looking at Dean.
Dean was mildly relieved by that. Like it was a short reprieve from having to actually look at Cas again. Or worse, for Cas to look at him again. He took the opportunity to get out of the car while he could, leaving Cas to follow behind him a moment later.
He flipped on lights as he trudged through to the kitchen, and called out to Cas to make himself comfortable on the couch. Dean returned a moment later with the whole pie pan, a couple forks, a bottle of whiskey and two glasses with ice. He set it all out on the coffee table, and then sat heavily down beside Cas with a nervous grin.
âI can get plates if you want, but honestly I feel like this is the exact right amount of effort to put in to this after the day we had.â
Cas snorted and picked up a fork. âThis is fine with me.â He took a bite and groaned at the taste, and then noticed the pie was baked in a proper ceramic plate. When he was done swallowing, he looked up at Dean pouring them drinks. âDid you make this? Because itâs just as good as Elizabethâs was.â
âYeah, because I gave her my grandmotherâs recipe,â Dean replied with a smirk as he handed Cas a glass. âI stress bake.â
âDid you make this last night?â Cas asked, taking another bite and then looking directly at Dean, like he knew the answer. âIâm surprised you had the energy for it.â
Deanâs heart pounded as he froze with a bit of pie halfway to his face. âUh, yeah⊠yeah I did. I guess I stress eat, too. Breakfast of champions, right?â
âYou ate half a pie on your own,â Cas absently said, cutting another bite out with his fork. âIâm concerned for your nutritional intake.â
Dean was left staring at the bit of pie on his fork feeling entirely too exposed. As far as he knew there wasnât an easy way to go back in time five seconds and just be normal about serving the pie and keep his mouth shut. He definitely couldnât go back to before he impulsively asked Cas over. Or worse still, all the way back to last week before heâd ever met Cas and could just abstractly think of him as Claireâs weird uncle heâd likely never meet. The realization that things were balanced on the precipice of already being slightly awkward but tolerably normal between them and precariously close to falling face first into the land of no take backsies. His heart was pounding for no reason at all, and he was pretty sure he should find some reason to get up off the sofa as soon as possible without looking as spooked and panicky as he felt.
Dean slowly looked over to Cas, who looked suspiciously relaxed sipping his whiskey. Cas watched him carefully, and Dean could see it in his eyes. There was a strange and timid hope behind the calm exterior it was clear was taking all his effort to maintain. Dean dropped his fork into the pan, pie uneaten, and it was like the trap was sprung.
Cas was on him faster than he could blink. The tension that had been all that was holding Dean together since theyâd sat down shattered in a rush of hands and lips and tongues in a desperate dash to outrun their impossible circ*mstance. As if they could go fast enough that maybe reality wouldnât be able to catch up with them just this once. When they finally broke apart for air, they both just stared at each other gasping, half mortified and still thrumming with need. Dean swallowed hard and caught his breath, trying not to break out in hysterical laughter.
Heâd dashed home the night before after coming a hairâs breadth from kissing Cas on the mouth with enough awkward tension electrifying his nervous system that heâd stayed up for hours baking and then eating pie. If an almost-kiss had done that to him, then what would happen next?
âSo this is arguably worse than last night, right?â Dean asked as Cas stared wide-eyed at him and bit his lip. Neither of them let the other go, though. Nobody tried to bolt, so Dean figured he also wasnât about to earn his discharge papers.
âEither worse or better, I canât really tell yet,â Cas replied.
Dean nodded, his nose almost bumping Casâs. He wanted nothing more than to dive back in, to stretch Cas out beneath him and climb on top and press him down into the cushions so he couldnât leave and forget everything else. But that wouldnât really be fair to either of them. At the very least, they had to understand what they were actually doing here.
âYou know we really, really shouldnât be doing this, right?â Dean asked, as if he really, really wanted Cas to contradict him.
âDean,â Cas grumbled out, and Dean could feel his name vibrate across his skin. âYou should stop talking before I realize youâre absolutely right.â
Dean just nodded again. If Cas wanted to do this and then somehow pretend they werenât doing this, he could probably live with that. At least, he hoped he could.
âWell if this is all we get, thenâŠâ he said, and then pulled Cas back in for another kiss.
The next few minutes were a bewildering jumble of passion, bliss, and the desperate hint of lingering regret Dean knew at the back of his mind wouldnât hit with full force until they stopped. So he decided they just wouldnât stop. As long as they kept going, then reality couldnât crash back in on them.
When Cas started pulling at the buttons on Deanâs jacket, because yes they were both implausibly still in full uniform, Dean pulled him to his feet. They only broke apart long enough to stand up without toppling over, but suddenly had much better access to all those buttons.
âDo you have a larger flat surface than this sofa?â Cas asked breathlessly as he pushed Deanâs jacket over his shoulders.
âThe floor?â Dean asked as he reluctantly let his hands fall away from Cas long enough to shake his jacket to the floor.
âMaybe something more comfortable than the floor?â
The little light clicked on in Deanâs head and he shook himself off, grabbed Casâs hand, and dragged him upstairs to his bedroom. They only stumbled a little bit racing up the stairs, and Cas even managed to shuck off his own jacket along the way. Dean dropped to the bed and began unlacing his boots, while Cas merely bent over where he stood and did the same. Something broke in Deanâs brain again watching Cas so frantically peel himself out of his uniform like it was burning him and he needed it gone.
When heâd tossed his boots aside, Dean stood up and crowded right up in Casâs space and pulled him toward the bed. âYou wanted soft and horizontal. What else do you want?â
âDonât make me think about anything, Dean, just do something.â
Dean knew he was right. He always wanted to please his lovers, find out what they liked and give it to them. But right now, if either of them thought too hard about this, theyâd come to their senses and stop altogether. If this was gonna be limited to one night only, Dean was gonna throw his entire mind and body into it like he never had before. He had to totally make it count, if it was gonna have to sustain him for years to come. He reached for Casâs belt, pulled him in close, and planted a searing kiss on him as he ground his hips against him.
Cas reached around and grabbed his ass, grinding them together again, and Dean groaned into his mouth before pulling back to get Casâs belt undone.
âThis isnât how I usually do things,â Dean said. âI make a whole deal out of this part. Getting you naked, exploring your body. Learning what makes you scream.â
âI will scream if you stop,â Cas said.
Dean couldnât help but laugh at that as Casâs hands slid around to his belt buckle. He definitely couldnât complain about that.
âI just didnât want you to think this was the standard Dean Winchester experience.â
âNot thinking, remember?â
Dean nodded, and kissed him again as he got Casâs pants unzipped and pushed them down over his hips. They made quick, silent work of removing the rest of each otherâs clothes, and then stood there staring at one another again for a long minute, catching their breath.
âThe only thing Iâm thinking about right now is what Iâd like you to do to me,â Cas said.
âWhatâs that?â Dean asked, pulling him to the side of the bed and pushing him down.
âThis is a good start,â Cas replied as Dean crawled up over him.
He started with another kiss, letting himself drop down on top of all that warm, naked skin. If Cas didnât want to think, Dean knew just how to make that happen. He gave one teasing roll of his hips, sliding their erections together just enough to leave Cas groaning and panting and chasing his mouth as Dean slid down. He trailed kisses from Casâs jaw all the way down to his hip. Heâd been so distracted before, and trying so hard not to really think about what they were doing before, it was only when Casâs erection bumped his shoulder that Dean really stopped long enough to get a good look at what he was working with. He had to close his eyes for a moment before psyching himself up to do what he wanted to do next.
Dean opened his eyes and glanced up at Cas to see him watching impatiently. His hair was even more disheveled than usual from Deanâs own hands, and his lips were parted, pink and spit slick from kissing, chest heaving with hastily gulped breaths. Dean winked at him, and then licked a line from the base of his co*ck to the tip that had Cas shuddering and moaning beneath him. Before he could process his enjoyment of the entire situation through, Dean grabbed his co*ck in one hand and swallowed him down.
Cas bucked beneath him, but Dean pressed his hip back down to the mattress and set himself to the task of making Cas forget what words even were. Now that he had Cas right where heâd wanted him since they first met, Dean wasnât about to give up his one and only chance to give Cas the night of a lifetime. If they never got to do this again, he was determined to create a greatest hits highlight reel for both of them.
Cas reached down and grabbed a handful of his hair, and Dean moaned around him as he swallowed Cas down all the way. He took the chance to reach down and run a finger across Casâs rim, and Casâs reaction had him immediately regretting that he hadnât reached for the lube earlier. Cas moaned and parted his legs even further in invitation, and then gasped when Dean pulled off and crawled over him, frantically reaching for the nightstand drawer. As soon as he had what he wanted, Dean waved the bottle of lube for Cas to see, and then leaned in for a passionate kiss. When he pulled back, Cas groaned, pulling at his shoulder like he didnât want to let Dean go quite yet. Dean had other plans for him, though, and sat back on his heels and opened up the lube.
âYes, Dean, yes,â Cas said, and Dean took him at his word.
Heâd been planning on teasing Cas open slowly, but this wasnât about taking their time. Heâd be gentle, but they werenât gonna think too hard about any of this. He squeezed out a generous helping of lube and then wrapped his hand around his own neglected co*ck, already dripping and eager to be of use at long last.
Cas glanced up at Deanâs face, and then nodded once before letting his eyes drop to Deanâs hands. Dean allowed himself a few slow strokes with his hand while he took in Cas spread out beneath him. When Cas raised his hips in anticipation, Dean leaned in, lined himself up, and slowly pushed his way inside. Cas gasped, and Dean used his lube soaked hand to stroke Casâs co*ck as he watched Casâs reactions to everything he did.
It was so tight, he knew this was the one bit he really needed to take his time with, no matter how hard Cas was prodding him to get on with it already. Cas wrapped his legs around Dean, digging his heels into his ass to pull him in faster, and Dean finally caved, sinking all the way inside with a groan as he bit down on his lower lip. He had to close his eyes again for a second against the sound of Casâs desperate little gasps, but as soon as Casâs grip on him loosened, he opened his eyes and looked down into Casâs eager face.
âMove, Dean. Please just move.â
Dean was more than happy to oblige. He pulled out slowly, almost all the way, and Cas whimpered, like he was afraid Dean was about to leave him there hanging forever. Dean grinned at him, and then plowed back into him as Cas arched up off the bed with a wail. He hadnât been expecting quite that strong a reaction to his dick filling Cas so completely, but heâd clearly done something right, so he did it again. And again. Cas had thrown himself completely over to the experience, allowing himself to fully embody the ecstasy of every touch, every thrust. The sight of it, the feel of Cas around him as he clenched down around him with the pleasure of it drove Dean completely out of his own mind, too.
He pulled Casâs leg up over his shoulder, bending him in half both to keep hitting Casâs prostate with every thrust, but also so he could lean down far enough to grab the back of Casâs head, get a handful of his hair, and hold him right where he wanted him. Heâd intended to give him a fiery kiss, to shove his tongue down Casâs throat as he shoved his co*ck up Casâs ass, but the frantic and wild look in Casâs eyes stopped him, mesmerized him. Suddenly it was far more important to look into his eyes as Dean brought him to the height of pleasure. He reached down blindly and found Casâs co*ck, still blessedly slippery from the lube, and matched the pace of his own thrusts as Casâs fingertips dug into his shoulders.
Dean was close. He knew he couldnât maintain that pace forever, no matter how long heâd wanted to drag it out for. He could feel the org*sm building, and was desperate to make Cas come first. His hips stuttered, and so did his hand, and that was apparently all the prodding Cas needed.
âCome for me,â Dean told him, and Cas did, seconds before Dean spilled inside him. He moaned out his pleasure as he milked Cas through the last of his org*sm, and then collapsed in the mess between their stomachs, his nose resting in the crook of Casâs neck.
A few minutes later, when they both caught their breaths, Dean realized that Cas was idly dragging his fingertips up and down his spine. He let out a contented hum, and then planted a few gentle kisses along Casâs neck and collarbone.
âThank you,â Dean said, and then felt a little dumb about it. âUh, I mean, I hope that was okay.â
Cas made a pleased noise and then nodded, turning his head to kiss Deanâs forehead. He nuzzled against Deanâs hair for a moment and then sighed, raising his free hand up to tug through his own hair.
âI suspect that none of what just happened was truly okay.â He rolled over to face Dean, sliding right up to look into his eyes. âBut I wouldnât give a second of it back.â
Dean blinked, and then forced himself to maintain that eye contact. âYeah,â he cleared his throat to cover how much effort it was taking to strangle his emotions. âYeah, same. So I guess weâre gonna have to pretend it never happened then.â
This time, Cas blinked. âNot until morning, at least. I think maybe thereâs still time for a shower that we can also pretend never happened.â
Dean let out a tense breath and then planted another kiss on Cas, since he was right there and they were still inside their window of things that absolutely would not count.
âYeah, come on, I can arrange that for you.â
Dean led Cas into the bathroom and had fully intended to let him shower alone, but Cas dragged him in and pushed him under the spray. They cleaned up quickly, not to wash away the evidence of what they had done, but to seal it into their skin with gentle touches and all the exploration Dean had skipped over in their rush to outrun their better judgment. It made the entire evening a thousand times better and several orders of magnitude worse.
They worshiped and anointed one another in silence, committing each other to memory while knowing it was something they were entirely forbidden from having. When they were done and dry again, Dean led Cas back to bed. Cas hesitated for a moment, and Dean held a hand out for him.
âLook, this all ends when we walk back into work in the morning. If you really want, I can take you home now. But itâs already late, and you could just stay.â
Cas took a deep breath, and then nodded slowly as he climbed in beside Dean. He tried to make himself comfortable as Dean turned out the light, but it was no use. As soon as it was dark, they both found their way back into each otherâs arms, settling into a comfortable embrace. After a few moments, before they could drift off, Dean spoke quietly.
âThis is gonna sound pathetic, but this has probably been the best date Iâve ever been on, and it wasnât even a date.â
Cas laughed against his shoulder. âI think this is where I am supposed to reply, same.â
âSorry your love life has been as disappointing as mine, then,â Dean replied. âUnless youâre just humoring me.â
âNo, Dean. I just never had the occasion to engage in a busy social life.â
Dean sighed. âYeah, sorry if thatâs still true, then.â
âMostly I was running from my familyâs social circles and the sorts of people they expected me to court. It was easier to forgo a love life entirely than to try to explain to them that I didnât want a relationship just to further my political or corporate ambitions. Even after I made it clear that the Navy was my career and not just a stepping stone to something else, Iâd already settled into the routine of not really having anyone in my life.â
Dean reflexively squeezed him tight. âYeah, that sucks. Sorry.â
After another quiet moment, Cas asked, âThat explains me, but why havenât you settled down into a comfortable domestic life? You didnât have an overly ambitious family pushing you into arranged relationships of convenience, and yet here you are.â
Dean snorted. âWell for the first half of my life, I was raising Sam since my dad couldnât be bothered to stick around long enough to do it. By the time I got him through college and out on his own, I guess I was also used to just being on my own. Enjoying a little bit of freedom, not having to worry about anyone else for a while.â
âAnd now?â Cas asked, tensing in his arms like he needed to gird himself against whatever Dean would answer to that.
âNow Iâm just grateful to be right here for tonight,â was all he could honestly reply. That would have to be good enough for now, inside their little bubble of time that was destined to pop forever as soon as the sun rose.
Chapter 10
Chapter Text
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Cas woke up the next morning still entwined with Dean. He didnât even want to move enough to check on the time. As far as he knew, Dean hadnât set an alarm and they were both already late for work. He decided he didnât even care. They were still inside the window theyâd carved out for themselves, even if it was rapidly closing. Thereâd be time enough to think about that later, but right then Cas was determined to enjoy every second he had left in Deanâs bed.
He clung to Dean and reveled in the warmth of his body. At some point, heâd absently begun rubbing little patterns into Deanâs back, and he froze when Dean made a pleased humming noise. Cas still hadnât dared to open his eyes, in case that was what shattered the dream and he woke up back in his own bed, alone. But clearly it was all real, and now Dean was awake because he couldnât just lie there and hold still. As soon as he tensed up, Dean pulled him in closer.
âYou donât have to stop,â Dean said. âFeels nice.â
Without even thinking, Cas resumed his exploration of Deanâs back, finally allowing himself to open his eyes. He was greeted with the sight of Dean watching him, a sleepy soft smile lighting up his face.
âSorry if I woke you,â Cas said.
Dean shrugged. âIâve been up for like twenty minutes. Youâre in the clear.â
âWhat?â Cas said, trying to sit up and looking around until he saw the clock.
âDonât worry, itâs still early,â Dean replied, still loosely holding on to Cas so he could get away if thatâs what he truly wanted, âI wasnât gonna let you sleep in too long.â
Cas flopped back down on the pillow and let Dean hold him. âYou didnât have to just lie here with me if you were awake.â
Dean shrugged again. âI was just enjoying it while I can. I figure once we get up, itâs over, right?â
âI suppose so,â Cas said, lying there now afraid to move.
Theyâd both been impulsive last night, even though they knew nothing could come of it. It had been the best date heâd probably ever been on. Perhaps that was because it was forbidden, or maybe he really liked Dean that much. It was impossible to tell now, and Cas worried for a moment that theyâd officially screwed any chance they might ever have had at an actual relationship, should circ*mstances change for them someday. He sighed, knowing it was a foolâs hope to imagine it in the first place, and began the slow, painful process of packing it all away.
After a few more minutes just quietly lying there together, Dean sighed, kissed his shoulder, and then rolled away to get out of bed. He bent over and began sorting through their scattered clothes, laying Casâs out on the bed and pulling his own back on.
âI can get you a clean t-shirt, some socks, even some boxers if you want, but youâre on your own with the rest of your uniform,â Dean said, watching him as he still lay sprawled out in his bed.
âThat would be appreciated, Dean. Iâd rather not have to have you swing by my house just for that.â
He reluctantly left the warmth of the blankets and began getting dressed. Dean rifled through a couple drawers and pulled out clean things for both of them. They both watched each other as they dressed, and even though the fiery heat that had driven them last night had been banked back, it definitely hadnât been extinguished.
âYou got any requests for breakfast?â Dean asked. âI was thinking french toast. Maybe a side of bacon.â
âYou donât have to go to that sort of trouble, Dean.â
âNo trouble. Even if you werenât here, Iâd be making it for myself.â
Cas blinked up at him while he finished tying his boots. âYou make yourself that sort of breakfast every morning?â
âI donât sleep much, and I like to cook. Plus itâs the most important meal of the day, right?â
âI suppose so,â Cas replied, and then followed Dean out of the bedroom, glancing around and patting down his pockets to make sure he hadnât left anything important behind. He took one last look back at the bed, still rumpled and unmade, sighed, and then followed Dean down.
Heâd already started the coffee maker and was busy pulling things from the fridge when Cas sat down at the table. Everything was comfortable still, but he couldnât imagine it would stay like that for long. They couldnât drag it out forever, and the minute they walked out the front door it would be back to business. For the first time, Cas wasnât really sure if he could manage that.
They fell right back into the pleasant companionship theyâd shared before their unscheduled fling, so maybe they at least wouldnât be painfully awkward around each other. Dean at least seemed comfortable enough with everything that had happened. Either that, or he was the undisputed grand international champion of repression, which Cas also wasnât prepared to discount as a possibility.
They lingered over breakfast, then lingered some more over tidying up again, finishing up their coffee, and then just standing there in the kitchen staring at each other as the clock ticked its way toward their inevitable deadline. Cas felt like Cinderella as he stood there, ignoring the passage of time with everything he had. He had no idea how long it had been when Dean sighed, pushed off the counter heâd been leaning against, and strode resolutely over to him. Without a word, Dean threw his arms around Cas and kissed him, pouring himself into it. It tasted of gratitude, desperation, and loss, and Cas drank it all down.
When Dean finally pulled away, he gave a sad smile and muttered, âOne for the road,â and let his hand slide from Casâs shoulder to his elbow before pulling himself together and heading for the front door.
Cas stood dumbstruck for a full minute watching Dean walk away, wondering if heâd made the worst mistake of his life. It wasnât like he really had a choice, though, so he followed Dean outside and let the dream heâd just lived through shatter behind him.
đ„ïž
Dean did his best to carry on as if nothing earth shattering had happened to him in the last twenty-four hours. He wasnât doing all that bad of a job of it, either. Heâd seen Cas a few times, and Cas seemed to be holding up well, too. In any normal situation, that wouldâve been encouraging, but for Dean, it was just another reminder that maybe the imaginary life he couldâve had, the one heâd been constructing inside his own mind since heâd met Cas, really was just an impossible dream. Dean Winchester just didnât get to have nice things, and thatâs just how life was.
It shouldnât have felt so awful to remind himself of that fact. It was a sentiment that had gotten him through a lot of truly horrible sh*t over the years, but it was no longer a comfort. Dean wondered if it hurt so much now to think that maybe Cas wasnât feeling as bereft and adrift as he was, only because heâd stupidly and irresponsibly allowed himself to actually care about him. But the world marched on, and Dean had a lot of work to keep him distracted.
It was an hour after heâd come back from lunch and he was elbow deep in an engine when his phone rang. He figured it would go to voice mail, and he could check his messages as soon as he was finished. It started ringing again almost immediately, and Dean sighed and walked over to where heâd laid his jacket down while wiping the grease off his hands as best he could before retrieving his phone just as it stopped ringing again. He didnât even have a chance to check whoâd called twice already before it rang again, and he answered it without even bothering to see who was calling.
âYou better not be about to tell me my carâs warranty is about to expire,â he said.
âDude, do I sound like a lousy scammer?â Charlie asked on the other end of the line.
âWhy are you blowing up my phone, Charles? You know Iâm on duty, right?â
âI figured youâd answer eventually, and itâs not like Iâve got anything else to do for the time being anyway.â
âWhat, youâre that bored and thought youâd revert to your preteen years?â
âShut up and listen, okay? And if I hang up suddenly, donât call me, Iâll call you when Iâm clear.â
That got Deanâs attention. Heâd been so up inside his own head over Cas, he'd completely forgotten about the even weirder situation Charlie was currently living through.
âYou sure you should be talking to me like this?â Dean asked, looking around the hangar and making sure he wasnât being overheard, either. Just in case, he slowly began making his way back to his office where he could shut the door, at least, and hope nobody popped in for a mug of coffee or a chat.
âFrank said you were in the loop. I know, not officially, but I honestly donât know who else I can trust.â
âIs Frank rubbing off on you, or are you having a real situation?â Dean asked as he headed down the blessedly empty hall to his office.
Charlie sighed. âItâs a real situation, unfortunately. And something I was probably not supposed to notice. If Frank hadnât been making me do a visual inventory six times a day, I never wouldâve realized there was a problem.â
Dean shut his office door, and then locked it for good measure. While he was there, he poured himself some coffee and then slumped down in his chair. He figured he would need it to get through this conversation.
âOkay, whatâs up?â
Charlie took a deep breath and then launched into an explanation.
âWeâve been anchored since last night, and the crew from the Solace boarded at sunup. We were all evaluated, had blood drawn, peed in cups, the whole nine. And their security team took environmental samples from around the entire ship, just in case. They packed up and left about an hour ago, and Frank ordered me to do another full inventory.â
âDonât tell me, something important came up short.â
âThatâs the thing. According to the official manifest, everything is present and accounted for. Only thereâs now one item missing from the official manifest that was there last night. And its corresponding crate that I saw with my own eyes last night is also gone.â
âSo, what, you think someone aboard the Solace stole it?â
âNo way. I watched them all pack up their gear and carry it back aboard. No way they couldâve hidden a three foot long wooden crate in there.â
âYeah,â Dean said, leaning back and rubbing his forehead. He refused to let himself develop a headache over this yet. âThatâs not something someone couldâve slipped in a pocket.â
âNo,â Charlie agreed, and then blew out a breath. âBut it is something someone couldâve pitched overboard while we were all being detained in quarters awaiting our physical exams. Anyone from their security team couldâve had access and couldâve just tossed it in the ocean. I asked Frank how deep it is where weâre still anchored, and he said only about 40 or 50 meters.â
Dean was about to ask if Frank had been made aware of the discrepancy on the manifest, when Charlie answered his question for him.
âDonât worry, he has no clue why I was suddenly interested in how much water was directly underneath us. Iâm paranoid, not a moron. But see, the crate going missing is one thing. Nobody ever wouldâve known it was gone since it was wiped from the official records like it had never existed.â
âBut you know it existed,â Dean replied. âAnd you donât know if you can trust whoever it was onboard drugging the crew if they knew you knew it was gone now.â
âYeah, exactly. All of that.â
âOkay, so what do you want me to do with this information, Charlie?â
âWeâre about to weigh anchor, since weâve apparently been cleared to sail for Norfolk.â
âThat was fast,â Dean said. âIâm betting all evidence that the crew had been drugged or poisoned or whatever is also conveniently gone from the ship.â
âMost likely, yeah, but if they thought I had evidence of their crimes, I wouldnât trust them not to just throw me overboard, too.â
âYeah, better safe than soaked.â
âDude, weâre like a hundred miles out from port still. I would be a lot worse than soaked.â
âOkay, again, what do you want me to do about any of this?â
Charlie took a deep breath, and Dean could tell she was pacing in her quarters like a caged animal.
âLike I was saying, weâre weighing anchor as soon as we get the official call with the all clear. Iâm texting you our current coordinates.â
âYou want me to pass them along to Rufus? Get a crew out there to search and see if they can find that crate?â
âNo, I already talked to Rufus. He wants to try to avoid an international incident. And sending out an official mission would be something he couldnât keep hush hush. He said your friend Benny has a boat equipped for that sort of operation.â
âI donât know,â Dean said, still wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with any of this. âWe only ever go fishing in it.â
âDude is a trained salvage diver, and you think he just goes fishing in his spare time?â Charlie asked, like Dean wasnât being very bright about it all.
âI donâtââ he started, and then Charlie cut him off.
âListen, I donât have much time, but Rufus wanted me to convey to you the seriousness of this situation, and let you know you have forty-eight hours leave to fix it, however you can manage to get it done. Because even after we make port tomorrow morning, weâre still in quarantine for twenty four hours. We have until then to make sure that everything from that shipment makes it to Samâs lab, and the less said about any of the details about how it all gets there, the better.â
âO⊠kay?â Dean said eventually, and Charlie sighed with relief.
âGood. Rufus has been officially un-retired by the Navy, by the way. Heâs been ordered to retain his command until further notice. And he told me to tell you that Captain Novak is also being given forty-eight hours of leave and instructions that I donât even have access to. So you probably need to talk to him like right now.â
âLike⊠right now immediately? Can I finish my coffee first, or should I put it in a travel mug?â
âDude, tick tock. International incident aversion time.â
âOkay, gotcha,â Dean said, and then drained his mug as Charlie hung up on him. âYou stay safe, Charlie,â he muttered to the phone anyway before shoving it back in his pocket and heading out double time to find Cas. This was certainly not going to cause any sort of awkward tension to develop between them. Surely.
Dean swung back by the hangar to grab his jacket before heading out in search of Cas, and stopped in his tracks when he found the man in question standing beside his workbench.
âI just got word,â Dean said as his phone dinged. He assumed it was the coordinates from Charlie. âSo whatâs the plan?â
âWe should discuss this elsewhere,â Cas replied, and then swiftly walked toward the door.
âWhoa, waitâŠâ Dean started as he tried to catch up to Cas.
Cas turned on his heel and Dean nearly ran into him yet again. Cas just held up a finger to his lips to silence Dean, and then turned and walked out to the parking lot with Dean in his wake.
âWould you prefer to take my truck or your car,â Cas finally asked as they exited the hangar. He sounded terse, tense even.
âDoes it matter?â Dean asked, following as Cas mechanically headed to his truck. âI donât even know where weâre going.â
âNot far,â Cas replied as they climbed in and he cranked the engine. He turned to back out and said nothing else until they were out on the road. His first reaction that showed he was operating on any level other than mission critical was a huge sigh as his shoulders slumped.
âYou okay there, Cas?â Dean asked.
âNot in the least,â Cas replied. âIn the last fifteen minutes Iâve been unceremoniously un-promoted, forcibly given two days leave, and told I would be spending all of that time on a boat. When I protested that this mission could benefit from air support, if for no other reason than speed and efficiency, I was told that could threaten national security. So no, Iâm not at all okay.â
Cas rolled his eyes toward Dean and then snapped them back to the road in front of them.
âBenny is meeting us at the dock with his boat. I have to say, Iâm grateful you talked me into a change of underwear, considering weâre likely to be wearing these clothes for the foreseeable future.â
âI thought we werenât gonna talk about that,â Dean replied, too bewildered to comment on any of the rest of what Cas had said.
At least Cas found that amusing, and snorted as he turned into the parking lot by the docks. Benny pulled in a moment later, looking prepared for a mission but also not entirely pleased with it. He was carrying two large grocery bags, though, which didnât bode well for a quick, three hour tour. They got out of the truck and Dean had been about to greet Benny, but he got right to the point.
âWe can chat on the water. Just get on the boat so we can get gone.â
Dean jumped aboard after Benny and they both went about preparing to leave from long practiced habit. Cas just stood on the dock staring at both of them, until Benny turned to Dean and pointed up at Cas.
âWhy donât you give him something to do. Take his mind off this. I got a couple coolers in the back of my truck that need to come with, and a great big box. Just go grab all that, and Iâll get everything else ready to go.â
Dean glanced up at the look of dread on Casâs face, and then gave Benny a terse nod before jumping back to the dock. He dropped a bracing hand on Casâs shoulder and then led him back to Bennyâs truck. They each grabbed a cooler, and exchanged a glance after taking in the other large crate.
âWeâll come back for it,â Dean assured him, and Cas looked slightly relieved at the additional reprieve on land that second trip represented.
They dropped off the coolers on the edge of the dock for Benny to load aboard, and then headed back for the massive crate.
âHoly sh*t, whatâs in this thing?â Dean asked no one in particular.
âSomething heavy,â Cas replied helpfully as they carried it gently to the dock just in case it was a torpedo. It was roughly torpedo-shaped, and Dean wouldnât put it past Benny to just have one lying around in case of emergency.
âCareful with that,â Benny said, coming out of the cabin to help lower the heavy crate to the deck. âThatâs sensitive equipment.â
âSensitive like kablooie sensitive?â Dean asked, and Benny just grinned at him.
âYou better hope not, brother. Now make yourself useful and take care of the mooring lines. Weâre going as soon as you cut us free.â
With that, Benny headed back to the bridge. Cas still stood up on the dock like he was still hoping to be told to stay on shore. No such luck, though. Dean held out a hand to him, and Cas ignored it to reluctantly jump down on deck. Dean then set to work untying the mooring lines tethering them to dry land.
âWeâre floating free,â Dean called out to Benny, and the engines kicked to life and they slowly motored out of the harbor.
Dean stood on the deck winding the mooring lines and stowing them away, as Cas dropped down onto one of the cushioned bench seats lining the edge of the deck, looking a little green.
âThis is a pretty big boat. I swear itâs seaworthy, and better equipped than any other charter fishing luxury yacht out there,â Dean told him. âAnd if you really need it, Benny keeps some dramamine in the galley. Plus heâs usually got ginger ale and pepto, if youâre still feeling sick.â
âIâm sure Iâll be fine,â Cas replied blankly. âEventually. This just isnât how I would ever choose to spend a long weekend of leave.â
âDean, get your ass over here,â Benny finally called out as they headed out toward the open water of the lower Chesapeake.
Dean gave Cas a concerned look. âYou need anything, or will you be okay for a few?â
âIâm sure Iâll be fine,â Cas replied again robotically, staring off toward the horizon like that would cure him.
Dean gave his shoulder another fortifying pat and then headed up to the bridge.
âYes sir,â Dean said, reporting for duty. âNow you gonna tell me what the f*ck weâre doing? I got a confusing call from Charlie, and now Iâm here with you and my C.O. whoâs a white knuckling landlubber.â
âYou got coordinates for me, Iâm told,â Benny replied, tapping the GPS unit beside the wheel.
Dean shook his head, pulled out his phone, and entered the numbers Charlie had sent him so Benny could point their boat in the right direction. Once the computer processed their target and set a course, Benny groaned.
âWhat, did I do something wrong?â Dean asked, looking down at the heading the GPS had given them.
âNah, itâs just gonna be a long day,â Benny replied. âYou should grab your buddy a drink and keep him focused on the horizon. Hopefully we can get him to grow a pair of sea legs before long.â
âOkay,â Dean replied, still not entirely sure what they were supposed to be doing, other than the vague avoiding an international incident.
Benny sighed as he motored out toward open water. He glanced back at Cas, now stretched out on the deck with his eyes closed and his face turned up to the sun, sucking down deep gulps of the salt air battering his face. For just a second Dean thought he looked good like that, like some supermodel posing in a wind storm. He shook himself off, forcing himself not to worry about Cas for the moment when Benny started talking.
âI suspect weâre far enough out now that nobody else is listening in, but letâs just say that someone with a far higher pay grade than I got is highly concerned that Dick Roman does not have the best interests of the U.S. Government at heart.â
Dean snorted. âYa think?â
Benny ignored him and kept going. âPretty sure Cas got the official download from Rufus even before I did, but since youâre here too, you should know what the plan is.â
âWould this be the kind of thing that goes faster if I tell you what I already know?â
Benny ceded to him with a wave of his hand as they steered out into the open waters of the Atlantic. Dean laid out the choppy details Charlie had given him as best he could, while Benny nodded along.
âHuh, I didnât even know the half of that, but thatâs some messed up sh*t right there,â he agreed. âAll I knew was the details of what we still gotta do.â
âI take it weâre going out to retrieve the mystery box that might or might not exist from the bottom of the ocean,â Dean replied.
âYou saying you donât trust Charlieâs word?â
âNo, no, I absolutely believe there was a crate and then there wasnât,â Dean replied. âI just donât know that it got tossed overboard. And if it did, whoâs to say Roman Enterprises didnât already have a crew on standby to move in and scoop it up as soon as Frank pulled up stakes on that spot.â
âThat is always a possibility,â Benny agreed. âBut between the naval radar station in Norfolk and constant civil air patrol flights over the area, thereâs no evidence of any other vessel in a twenty mile radius of that spot. So unless heâs got a private submarineââ
Dean butted in with, âI wouldnât put it past him,â and Benny gave him a raised eyebrow.
âWith the ability to retrieve cargo that large, it seems unlikely that he can beat us out there now,â Benny added. âAnd the mysterious yet highly ranked issuer of this little mission to us seems to believe that Roman would wait until any possible controversy about a missing crate blew over before sending anyone out to fetch it.â
Dean nodded slowly, watching Fort Story disappear behind them as they slowly rounded the point and headed south along the coast.
âMakes sense. He can plead that he has no idea what anyone is talking about a missing crate. Theyâre all present and accounted for, and any heat would fall on either the crew of Frankâs ship or the people accompanying the cargo. As long as he doesnât have whatever it is in his possession, Dick would be in the clear.â
Benny grinned at him again. âYou sure are fond of calling him Dick.â
Dean grunted. âDude looks you right in the eye with a smirk and insists on you calling him Dick? I take him at his word.â
âFair,â Benny replied.
âSo, what, the Navyâs sending us out like a bunch of mercenaries to find the box and deliver it to Sam and pretend it never went missing in the first place? Before the Iraqi government can realize their pockets got picked?â
âNah,â Benny said, and then corrected himself. âWell, yeah, that, but even more important is the room full of people with fancy titles and final say in who the entire military buys their gear from waiting for enough reason to ditch Roman Enterprises for good.â
Deanâs eyes went wide, and Benny smirked at him before explaining.
âFrom what Rufus said, when he reported what weâd been seeing from Roman lately to his superiors, they told him it had been an increasing pattern over the last few years. Like he really was building his own private network of people in positions of power who owed their loyalty to him.â
âAnd Uncle Sam ainât the type to share,â Dean replied, finally beginning to understand the magnitude of the problem theyâd accidentally stumbled across.
âNeither, apparently, is Samâs employer.â
âWhat, Roman was trying to buy off a whole university, too? For what?â
Benny shrugged. âPrestige, maybe? Resources? Who knows what goes through the minds of billionaires.â
âNothing worth thinking too hard about,â Cas said from the doorway to the bridge, surprising both Dean and Benny.
He still looked a little green around the gills, but he was upright under his own power, and looked more lively than he had since theyâd left the dock.
âHey, you feeling any better?â Dean asked, and Cas nodded, and then swallowed hard like he regretted the sudden movement.
âSort of, but Iâll be fine eventually.â
Dean reached down into the cooler at the back of the bridge and pulled out a can of soda, offering it to Cas, who accepted it gratefully.
âAnd weâre just plausible deniability for the Navy,â Dean said after it was clear that Cas was gonna keep the soda down.
âFor the entire U.S. Government,â Benny replied. âWeâre just a few guys out doing a little deep sea fishing.â He rolled his eyes between Dean and Cas. âThe two of you are up for a little fishing while Iâm indisposed down on the sea floor, right?â
âFishing I can handle,â Cas replied, swiping the ice cold can across his forehead and letting out a relieved sounding belch. He took a few more deep breaths, and then finally began looking a little more like himself.
âGood,â Benny replied, looking them both over. âYou should probably at least ditch the uniforms, then. Weâre supposed to be on a pleasure cruise here.â
âYouâll forgive me, but I didnât have a chance to pack a change of clothes,â Cas replied.
âJust take off your jacket, Cas,â Dean suggested, already removing his own and stowing it in a cupboard. âBut unless Bennyâs got a secret closet we can raid, thatâs about the best we can do.â
âI got a couple windbreakers in the first hatch on the left downstairs, neither of which is navy issue.â
âIâll take it,â Dean replied, pushing past Cas and bounding down the stairs into the lower cabin area.
He found the cupboard quickly, and sorted through the variety of foul weather gear inside. Short of cosplaying as the Gortonâs fisherman in full yellow rain gear, his options were limited to a couple windbreakers, a single pair of black nylon track pants, and a green plaid flannel that Dean was pretty sure was actually his. Which meant heâd probably accidentally abandoned it on the boat at some point in the past. That sealed the deal for him. He quickly stripped out of his uniform pants and carefully folded them up, pulling his phone out of his pocket and sliding it into one of the zippered pockets of the track pants. He pulled on the flannel shirt, grabbed one of the windbreakers, and dashed back up the stairs to the bridge. Casâs eyes went wide when they fell on Dean.
âUh, yeah, apparently I left this shirt on the boat a while back,â Dean said, plucking at the collar. âAnd Benny, I borrowed these pants just so weâre not so matchy-matchy.â
Benny snorted. âYeah, someone else left those behind. No idea who at this point. But youâre welcome to whatever.â
Dean stuck out the hand holding the folded up windbreaker in a deep royal blue. âAt least thisâll match the pants,â Dean replied. âFigured it was better than a yellow rain slicker.â
âThank you, Dean,â Cas replied, taking the lightweight jacket and pulling it on.
Dean couldnât help noticing how the deep blue jacket brought out the blue in Casâs eyes. For an idiotic minute, he considered how lucky it was that Cas chose to join the Navy, since he looked so incredible in blue. He banished the thought from his brain, and the three of them went over their plans in detail. According to the GPS, they were halfway to their destination by the time they were all in agreement.
âSo, whatâs for dinner?â Dean asked, rubbing his hands together when theyâd plotted out their course of action.
âDepends on what you can throw together with what I got in the galley,â Benny replied.
A few hours later, after Dean and Cas had taken care of companionably assembling dinner and then cleaning up afterward, Benny finally throttled down the engines and announced theyâd arrived at their destination. He came down from the bridge and used the last of their daylight to unlatch the huge crate theyâd loaded onboard while Dean and Cas watched on with interest.
âSo itâs not a torpedo?â he asked on seeing the little yellow submersible and all the tracking equipment to go with it.
âSorry to disappoint,â Benny replied, hefting out the submersible and setting it gently on the deck.
He quickly set up all the computer tracking equipment and made sure everything was functioning properly. This was the one side of Bennyâs job that Dean had never really had a chance to see in action. The sailing, diving, and general knowledge of the ocean, sure. But this technical stuff was his area of special expertise that Dean supposed had qualified him for this mission in the first place. For the first time since theyâd come aboard, Dean felt sort of superfluous. He could only imagine how Cas felt, as the ranking officer on a mission that had him entirely out of his depth.
Benny input the coordinates for a complete scan of the sea floor over a mile radius, confirmed the submersible had processed the instructions properly, and then turned to Dean. The two of them lifted the sub and then set it in the water off the back dive platform of the boat. It sank beneath the waves and then disappeared, off on its mission to scan the entire sea floor around them.
âSo what now?â Cas asked as Benny began monitoring the data the remote vehicle was sending back.
âNow we look for a box-shaped thing just sitting in the sand down there,â Benny replied, pointing at the computer screen displaying a bunch of orange-hued wavy lines that made less than zero sense to Dean and Cas.
âGood thing you know what youâre looking at, because that means nothing to me,â Dean said, watching with interest as the screen displayed more and more indecipherable patterns.
âThat resembles the wallpaper that used to hang in my uncleâs rumpus room when I was a child,â Cas muttered. When he noticed Dean and Benny just staring at him, he shrugged. âMy uncle had terrible taste in decor.â
âHe had a rumpus room,â Dean replied, as if that had already explained everything.
The three of them sat transfixed, until Benny finally exclaimed that heâd spotted something, and pressed a few keys to capture a close up and log the exact coordinates where the object lay.
âOnly a few feet off Charlieâs coordinates,â Benny replied, impressed. âYour girl did good.â
When he zoomed in on the image that had caught his attention, even Dean and Cas could see what Benny was talking about. Amid all the random wavy lines stood a roughly rectangular anomaly.
âOkay, so how do we bring it up? Your little yellow submarine ainât got a grappling hook that I could tell, and I might be a decent fisherman but Iâm more likely to snag an old boot out here than get a line on that.â
Benny pressed a button to bring the submersible back to the surface, and then stood up and looked at Dean.
âIâll go get it in the morning, unless one of you is up for a little night diving.â
Dean and Cas looked at each other for a second.
âIâm guessing youâre not dive certified,â Dean asked him, and Cas shook his head. âAnd Benny knows Iâm not.â
Benny shook his head at Dean and then headed to the side of the boat with a long pole, waiting to fish the ROV out of the water when it appeared.
âI been trying to get you in the water for what, near twenty years now? I figure youâre a lost cause at this point.â
âGetting in the water is for when your boatâs sinking,â Dean said, and Benny laughed.
âSo what are we supposed to do until sunrise?â Cas asked as Dean and Benny hauled the sub back on deck and got it nestled back in its crate.
âSleep?â Benny suggested, then waved a hand at the crystal clear night sky above them. âStargaze? Whatever strikes your fancy.â
âIt ainât so bad,â Dean said, hauling one of the long cushions down from the bench seats lining one side of the deck and dropping it at his feet. âAt least itâs not raining.â
Cas frowned at Dean.
âOnly got one proper bunk in the cabin, but if the two of you donât mind getting cozy, the galley table folds up and the benches slide together into a passable sleeping surface.â
Dean nodded, explaining to Cas. âItâs the boat version of a pull out couch, and about as comfortable.â
âI didnât say it was the Ritz,â Benny retorted. âBut it is sheltered from the wind, and it can get cold way out here overnight.â
Dean looked at Cas, and Cas stared back at him. Benny gave up on getting an answer from either of them and just took his computer back to the bridge to prepare for the morningâs dive. When they were as alone as it was possible to be on the boat, Dean cautiously spoke just loud enough for Cas to hear.
âItâs your call, really. If you donât mind sharing the bed, Iâm okay with that. I mean, it wasnât supposed to happen, but it ainât like weâre spoiled for choice, here.â
Cas nodded slowly, looking weirdly relieved from what Dean could see of his face in the growing darkness.
âI would prefer not to sleep on deck, yes. I⊠I donât mind sharing it with you,â he said, almost too quietly for Dean to hear.
Dean nodded far too quickly, his heart racing at the thought of going back to how theyâd woken up that morning already. He thought it would be relegated to an eternal replay loop in his mind, and now he had to face it again before heâd even had a chance to fully process last night. The universe was either a cruel bitch, or it had an entirely inappropriate sense of humor. Dean wasnât exactly sure which.
âSure, fine⊠uh, good,â he said, and then sprang into action, nearly tripping over the cushion heâd dropped to the ground. He laughed nervously as he hastily slid it back onto the bench where it belonged, and gave Cas an apologetic smile before dashing down into the cabin. âI know thereâs a couple pillows and some blankets around here somewhere.â
Dean shouldâve known that no matter what his imagination had been tormenting him with while he and Cas assembled their bed for the night, the reality of it would be so, so much worse. The sleeping surface was honestly fine. It wasnât much smaller than Deanâs bed back at his house, even if the stiff cushions were no match for his memory foam.
Benny came down while the two of them stood there staring at their makeshift bed like it was some sort of death trap. He stopped on the stairs and cleared his throat before continuing down and sliding between them on his way to the stateroom.
âYou two gonna be okay out here?â he asked, sounding sincerely unsure of that.
âYeah, thanks Benny,â Dean replied absently, pasting on a smile for him.
Benny just nodded. âOkay then. I got an alarm set for zero four thirty to prep. Thatâs when Iâll be up and about, just for your general information.â
He gave Dean a grin, and then added, âGood luck,â before disappearing into his room and shutting the door.
Dean laughed nervously and glanced at Cas.
âAfter you, I guess,â he said, waving a hand at their bunk.
Theyâd dug out a couple of pillows and a single slightly too small blanket, and Dean was already regretting ever having been born, let alone having found himself in this circ*mstance. Cas slowly sat down on the edge of the bunk and began unlacing his boots. Dean joined him a moment later and did the same. When they were done, they sat there staring at one another yet again, until Cas finally spoke, so quietly that Dean found himself leaning in closer just to hear him.
âWe can be adults about this,â Cas said, almost as if he was trying to convince himself of that. âItâs not like anything can happen here anyway.â
Dean nodded, and swallowed the lump of regret that had been growing as heâd forced himself to remember that detail, and to forget everything theyâd been doing twenty-four hours earlier. Cas took that nod as agreement, though, and crawled to the far side of the bunk and slid under the blanket. He did his best to fluff up his pillow, and rolled up on his side to leave Dean as much room as was possible. Dean slowly swung his legs up and shimmied under his edge of the blanket, doing his best to get comfortable fully clothed and crammed in beside a fully clothed Cas.
They lay there in the semi-dark, with only the soft glow of a nightlight in the galley to light their way should they need to get up quickly during the night. It was almost a physical ache to just reach out and pull Cas in close again, and yet they lay there less than a foot apart and entirely unable to even touch. Theyâd both agreed to that, right? One and done, got it out of their systems and moving on. Only Deanâs system had had a taste of Cas, and resolutely refused to let it go.
Dean guessed theyâd probably been laying there in silence for twenty minutes or so, when Cas finally whispered his name. He turned his head to find Cas watching him carefully. After another minute or two, Cas whispered again.
âCome here.â
Dean hesitated for a second, and then asked, âYou sure?â
Cas just nodded, lifting the blanket so Dean could roll closer. They shuffled around for a moment. It wasnât as easy to slide together fully clothed and under the scratchy wool blanket, but eventually they managed a rough approximation of the position theyâd awakened in that morning. Cas sighed, and Dean felt the tension drain from Casâs shoulders as he finally began to relax into sleep. When he was pretty sure Cas had drifted off, he planted a long, soft kiss on his forehead, and then let himself drift off too.
When Dean woke up again, it was still dark. He instantly knew he was on Bennyâs boat, just from the way the whole thing was rocking and swaying with the waves. The smell wasnât quite right, though, and thatâs what threw him enough to get his eyes open. His face was smooshed right up against Casâs shoulder, and Dean took a long, slow breath to savor the scent heâd resigned himself to never smell again. He wanted to lie there as long as he could, but he couldnât ignore what woke him up much longer. Lying on the hard bench cushion all night was absolutely wrecking his shoulder, and if he didnât move soon, heâd regret it for the rest of the day.
Not to mention, he had no idea what time it was and there was no way in hell he was risking Benny finding them all cuddled up together. Much as it might pain him in every way other than his aching shoulder, Dean carefully extricated himself from Casâs embrace and slipped out from under the blanket. The boat pitched a little harder than he was expecting the second heâd gotten to his feet, and he had to brace himself on the bulkhead to keep from landing back on top of Cas.
He stood there, hunched and hovering a foot over Casâs head, breathing deeply while he got his balance back. And even then, he didnât move. He just watched Cas for another few minutes, wishing more than anything that everything could be different. Of course, thatâs when Cas opened his eyes and blinked sleepily up at him.
For a split second, a fond smile touched his lips before Cas had awakened enough to remember that wasnât the appropriate reaction to finding Dean perched above him. Casâs smile turned into a frown as he remembered where they were and he tried to get his bearings.
Cas slowly propped himself up on one elbow, looking around for a clock. âIs it time to get up already?â he asked Dean.
âNo idea,â Dean muttered softly. âMy shoulder was screaming at me and woke me up.â
Casâs brow pinched up as he regarded Dean, still balanced precariously above him.
âIs that why youâre stretching like that? Are you in pain?â
The genuine concern in Casâs voice hurt more than standing up had, and Dean finally pushed himself to standing. Of course he had to brush it all off.
âA wave broadsided us and almost knocked me off my feet. Figured it was better than using you to break my fall.â
âI wouldâve caught you,â Cas muttered, scooting to the edge of their makeshift bunk.
Dean snorted. âYou were asleep, dumbass. It wouldnât have been a fun way to wake up.â
âIt already wasnât a fun way to wake up,â Cas said, so softly that Dean wasnât even sure heâd heard it properly.
He didnât have time or headspace to devote to parsing that out right then, so he distracted himself with practicalities. Dean fished out his phone while Cas stretched and yawned, and then bent down to put his boots back on.
âBennyâs alarm goes off in six minutes,â Dean told Cas, heading to the galley to get the coffee maker started.
âBenny turned his alarm off when he woke up five minutes ago,â Benny said, emerging from his cabin. He glanced around at Dean, flipped the main cabin light on, and then nodded his approval at the impending coffee.
Dean put on his boots and he and Cas reassembled their bunk into a dining area while Benny made up a quick breakfast of eggs, toast, and ham. They ate in silence while Benny began detailing what he needed from them. By the time they had breakfast cleared away, they were all clear on their respective jobs.
The sun rose as Benny finished readying all his gear. Dean and Cas were readying their own gear of a very different kind. They had a cooler full of beer that was more of a prop in case anyone approached them and questioned what they were doing in the area. Their other cooler was full of bait, and Dean readied a couple of massive fishing rods and set them into a bracket on deck. Benny interrupted his work tying a huge hook to one of the lines to hand him a discreet little radio earpiece.
âDo not take that off until Iâm topside again,â Benny warned him. âItâs got a direct connection to the radio in my helmet. If you lose my signal, you got a problem. I got no backup on this dive.â
âRegretting not bringing someone else certified yet?â Dean asked.
Benny shook his head. âJust telling you the worst case scenario.â
âOkay, then, with that cheerful bit of knowledge in the bank, letâs get this show on the road,â Dean replied.
Theyâd drifted some during the night, intentionally floating out of their target dive zone. Benny motored slowly back over it while Dean tracked the exact coordinates of the sunken crate and Cas threw a shot line attached to a small buoy by a long rope. Benny once again shut down the engines and quickly finished pulling on his helmet and fins. He and Dean tested out their radio communications, and after confirming that everything was working, Benny gave them a thumbs up, grabbed the grappling hook and a net attached to the deck winch, and let himself fall off the back of the boat.
âThis wonât take long,â Benny said over the radio as he swam quickly back to their shot line buoy and then disappeared beneath the waves.
âGood luck,â Dean said, and then turned to stare at Cas. âSo letâs get some fishing on,â he said, handing Cas one of the rods and bending to select some bait from the cooler.
After a few minutes with no updates from Benny, Cas asked how long it would take for him to even reach the bottom. Dean shrugged.
âProbably shouldâve asked him that,â Dean said.
Benny came over the radio. âSunâs up enough now that I can see the bottom. Gettinâ close, but visibility ainât the best.â
Dean absently reeled in his fishing line a bit, and Cas did the same a moment later.
âShame we havenât even had a nibble on the lines yet,â Dean said to him, since he couldnât say any of the things he truly wanted to and it was better than sitting in agonized silence. âWoulda been nice to fry up some tuna steaks for lunch.â
âWorst case scenario, we can park under the bridge for a while on the way back to base and see if we can catch ourselves a couple of rockfish.â
Dean had almost forgotten that Benny was also listening in on everything they were saying, and he jumped when Benny had spoken. Cas looked at him funny, but Dean just replied to Benny.
âIf it was up to you, weâd never eat anything other than rockfish,â Dean taunted.
âTheyâre good eatinâ,â Benny replied, then added, âI hit bottom, and youâll never guess whatâs just sitting here three feet from the end of this perfectly dropped shot line.â
Dean made a face of approval at Cas, and then explained. âYou dropped that line almost on top of the crate. Benny found it.â
Casâs look of surprise was almost enough to distract Dean, but they snapped into action as soon as Benny interrupted their staring again.
âI need about five minutes to set up the net and make sure itâs all secured,â Benny said through the radio. Be ready for my signal to reel it in.â
Dean snapped into action, securing his fishing rod and clearing the deck enough to bring up their cargo. The coolers got shoved to the side, and per their plan, Cas continued fishing like nothing was happening around him. It was only a few moments later when Benny gave the signal theyâd been waiting for.
âOkay, hit the winch. weâre ready to go. Slow and steady, now.â
Dean turned on the motor and slowly began reeling in the line. He could tell when it snapped taut and knew it was pulling up something extremely heavy.
âItâs all good, keep going,â Benny said from below. âYou drifted a bit, but itâs going up now.â
âAt least we know we caught one thing today,â Dean said to Cas, who gave him a withering look before turning back to his own fishing reel, which also chose that moment to snap taut.
âDean, I think I caught something,â he said.
âYou hooked something, for sure,â Dean agreed, watching Cas struggle against what mustâve been a powerful fish. âYou think you can reel it in?â
Cas backed up the deck to get a bit more leverage on it, fighting for his life against whatever was on his line. If all that wasnât excitement enough, Dean heard a noise off in the distance that he would recognize anywhere. It was a plane, but it wasnât just any plane. It was the Cessna that Bobby favored, that heâd been maintaining for a decade now. If it wasnât Bobby himself, then it was someone Bobby sent to check on them.
Dean turned, giving a wave as the small plane cruised overhead. He went back to monitoring his winch while the plane tipped a wing at them and continued on south.
âIâm taking a decompression break,â Benny said in his ear, almost making Dean jump again. âCargoâs still on the way up to you, but Iâm following the shot line up to the buoy. You think you can get that box up on deck on your own?â
âWeâll do our best,â Dean said. You got a guess on what it weighs?â
âMore than I was expecting, but less than the worst case scenario I imagined.â
âWell thatâs helpful,â Dean muttered, and went back to alternately watching Cas in his epic struggle against a fish and the slow, steady progress of the line reeling back up around the winch.
What felt like an eternity later, the net and then the crate slowly came into view. Dean slowed the winch down, and then shut it down completely as soon as the top of the net broke the surface. He was about to ask Cas for a hand hauling it aboard, but he finally got his first good look at Cas in a few minutes. Sweat had broken out across his brow, and he looked like he was barely holding on.
âYou doing all right there, Cas?â Dean asked.
âI refuse to let him go, Dean,â Cas gasped out, winning another few feet of line from the fish. âRefuse.â
âOkay, then,â Dean said, figuring they had time to deal with the crate at their leisure now.
He kept one eye on Cas while he picked up his abandoned rod and fully reeled in his own line, only to discover that his bait was long gone anyway. He stowed his rod, and then turned all his focus to Cas.
âThis is the big one, Dean. I can feel it.â
âI can see that,â Dean replied. âSlow and steady, you got him. Just hang on.â
He leaned out over the back of the boat to see if Cas was close to landing the thing, and almost caught a faceful of mahi mahi as the massive fish broke the surface and practically came flying up on deck. Cas stumbled backward and landed on his ass six feet away now that the tension on his line had gone completely slack. Meanwhile, three feet of supremely pissed off fish flung itself around the deck until Dean tackled it and wrangled it into the livewell. When he finally looked back at Cas, he still looked entirely stunned, clutching the fishing rod like his muscles still refused to unclench.
They both lay on the deck, catching their breath, and staring at each other again. When Dean was able to speak again, he grinned at Cas.
âWell, thatâs even better than tuna. Nice work with that.â
Cas struggled to his feet, set the fishing rod back in the bracket on deck and shook out his arms, letting the feeling fully return to his hands.
âI believe we both caught something,â he said, walking to the stern and looking down at the catch they still needed to pull out of the water. âDo you think we should wait for Benny before trying to get it aboard?â
Dean walked up beside him, finally getting a chance to properly size up their haul. It wasnât too terribly large, even if being completely waterlogged likely added a bit to its weight. If Charlieâs theory was right, then someone had been able to carry it out of their cargo hold and toss it overboard without being caught in the act. It couldnât be too hard to scoop it out of the drink and drag it up on deck.
âI think we at least gotta give it a shot,â Dean said, bending down to give the top of the net a tug. âYou wanna grab on to the other side?â
Cas crouched down and got a firm hold of the netting, and Dean counted down from three. When he hit one, they both heaved, and the crate came up a hell of a lot easier than Casâs fish had. They were still hauling it out when Benny spoke through the radio again.
âIâm coming up now,â he warned. âYou get that box up yet?â
âWorking on it,â Dean gasped out as they wrestled the soggy netting up on deck.
Water poured out of the crate as he and Cas began disentangling it from the netting and then dragged it back toward the cabin. When it was safely onboard, Dean quickly folded up the net and stowed it away.
âSo what do we do with this?â he asked, finally getting a good look at the crate that Cas was already studying.
âYou can still see the label on it with its manifest number, origin, and destination,â Cas said, running his fingers over it.
âSo itâs definitely supposed to be going to Sam,â Dean said, crouching down to see for himself. âWhich means it definitely came off that boat.â
Cas nodded solemnly. âWhich means there was definitely someone aboard one or both of those ships who committed a serious crime. Destruction of property and the theft of antiquities to start with.â
âThe things some people are willing to do for a paycheck,â Dean said, standing back up and sighing. âBut that also means whoever dumped it will be coming back to find it sooner or later. We should probably get it below deck.â
Cas sighed and grabbed the rope handle on one side of the crate, glancing up at Dean.
âLift with your knees, now.â
Dean groaned as they hefted it up and carefully brought it down the steps into the cabin. There wasnât a lot of space to stow something that large, so it ended up on the galley table.
âHopefully we wonât have to spend another night out here,â Dean said. âCause we just lost our bed to a box of rocks.â
Cas snorted, and Dean headed back out on deck to look out for Benny. He surfaced at the buoy a few minutes later and swam the few hundred yards back to the boat. Dean helped him back up on deck, and shared all the good news with him as Benny peeled out of his dive gear.
âCrate secured, gear stowed, and thereâs a three foot mahi in the livewell.â
Benny gave Dean an impressed look. âYou caught us lunch?â
âCas did,â Dean replied, hooking his thumb at the man in question. âWhile I was dealing with the winch.â
In the distance Dean heard the same Cessna engine approaching again, probably on its way back to the CAP. Dean waved again, the plane tipped a wing again, circling around them once before heading back north again. If the pilot had known what they were looking for, then hopefully they realized that theyâd accomplished their mission.
âSo does this mean we can head home now?â Dean asked as Benny got to his feet and headed toward the cabin.
âNot yet, unfortunately,â Cas replied. âWeâre to remove the target to a secure location and await further orders.â
âA secure location? What, on land somewhere?â
Cas just looked at him with a frustrated frown. âAs far as we can get from this location.â
Dean let that process through, and then nodded. âNow the multiple grocery bags Benny brought aboard make sense. So our forty-eight hour leave?â
âCan be extended at the whim of the United States Navy should the situation require it,â Cas confirmed.
Dean sighed, picking at his damp and slightly fish-scented shirt. âNow I really wish Iâd swung by the house for a change of clothes or two.â
Benny emerged from the cabin wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and rubbing his hair dry with a small towel. âWell before we can do anything else, we need to retrieve that buoy. You two prepared to haul one last thing outta the ocean today?â
He didnât even wait for a response before heading to the bridge, cranking the engine, and motoring over to the buoy. Dean reached over and grabbed it, and he and Cas got it reeled in and stowed away while Benny took them vaguely back in the direction of home.
Chapter 11
Chapter Text
đ„ïž
âSo how long you think theyâre gonna keep us out here?â Dean asked late that night as the three of them lounged on deck, finally getting to enjoy the beer theyâd brought along as a decoy.
Theyâd also enjoyed Casâs fish, pan seared with roasted potatoes and a tangy garlic sauce that Benny had whipped up for the occasion. As long as they were stuck at sea, at least they were eating well. Dean had teased Cas that it was just one more point in favor of boats over airplanes.
âCanât catch your dinner from an Osprey and then kick back with a cold one to watch the sun set.â
Cas reluctantly conceded the point, but it was obvious that heâd at least become comfortable aboard the boat, if still not entirely thrilled with it. Dean tried not to let himself believe that part of the reason may have been the way theyâd slept the previous night. At least not with the potential for another similar night looming directly on the horizon.
Benny had dropped anchor about twenty miles off Virginia Beach, and Cas had reported their success to Rufus. Their only orders were to stay exactly where they were to await further orders.
âWell, Frank made port, but they wonât unload the cargo until tomorrow because of the quarantine,â Cas reminded him. âRufus said the big public welcoming ceremony event was called off in light of the quarantine, as well.â
Dean snorted. âSo Dick supposedly did all this to sweep in and claim credit for the cameras, and now there wonât even be cameras at all. So if he was behind this whole bizarre scheme, he shot himself in the damn foot.â
âIf he was ever after publicity in the first place,â Cas said.
âThat guy loves publicity,â Dean said. âEats it for breakfast. I canât imagine heâd toss the chance to make international headlines like this.â
âI suppose it depends on the value he might place on whatever is in that crate,â Cas replied.
Dean took a long sip of his drink, and Benny added, âSure wish we knew what was in there. You think whatever government official who authorized all this knows?â
Dean shrugged. âMaybe? The guys on Frankâs ship who packed the crates probably do. And Sam definitely will.â
âSo what exactly are we waiting for?â Benny asked. âI mean, is there some advantage to their investigation in keeping us at sea versus actually bringing the evidence back to them?â
Cas sighed, leaning back and taking a healthy gulp of his drink before leaning forward and looking each of them in the eye in turn.
âThis is classified information, which you did not hear from me. But tomorrow morning, the crew and their cargo will be processed off the ship. A representative from the university will be there, along with NCIS agents who are prepared to detain the suspected accomplice aboard the Port Huron. Theyâve apparently discerned the identity of the sailor aboard the Solace who they believe colluded to jettison the crate we retrieved. Heâs a member of the security team, and heâs also being taken into custody for questioning. Depending on the results of those interviews, theyâre preparing an arrest warrant for Dick Roman.â
âHoowee,â Benny replied. âWho knew NCIS could work even faster than the Postal Service cops?â
Dean ignored that, despite appreciating the additional humiliation if they could convince the mail cops to drag Dick in in shackles. Was there anything more embarrassing than being arrested by the mailman? He was sure heâd get to laugh about it eventually, but right then, he had slightly more relevant questions.
âSo what does this mean for Dick, really? Heâs one of the biggest military contractors in the country, and thatâs just counting his businesses I know about. I mean, who knew he owned Wellman? The charter company next door to the CAP,â he added for Bennyâs benefit, âuntil this week even? What else has he got his sticky fingers all over?â
Cas shrugged. âThat is above my pay grade, but I assume there will be government seizures of his assets. This wasnât just a crime against the U.S. Navy. This is potentially United Nations treaty violating crime. And the Iraqi ministry of antiquities will surely have things to say on the matter, if theyâre ever even told about it.â
âHuh, right. Avoiding international incidents is probably a priority,â Dean replied. âI guess at the very least heâs about to lose every military contract he ever had.â
âI believe itâs safe to say heâll never work in a defense-related industry again,â Cas confirmed. And then he hesitated a second before laying out the rest of what he knew. âIâve been requested to go to Washington to assist the investigation.â
âWhat?â Dean asked, not fully understanding. âWhy just you? I mean thereâs three of us out here?â
âBecause technically all of this happened under my command. I assume Iâm either being given the credit for it, or potentially the blame if theyâre unable to actually convict him of anything.â
âDude, what? They canât lay it all on you if they canât make a case against him. You did your part. More than your part. You hadnât even technically taken the command yet.â
Cas sighed, staring out into the darkness over the waves. âMaybe not, but we only stumbled across a very small fringe of a much larger case theyâve been assembling against him for months now. Apparently this isnât the only near catastrophe heâs been linked to, but it is the one they have a singular piece of physical evidence from.â
âSamâs box of rocks,â Dean replied quietly.
Cas nodded, giving him a sad smile. âThis is why I was so reluctant to come aboard yesterday, and why I sincerely hoped we wouldnât find anything.â
âBut we did,â Benny said, and Cas grumbled.
âTheyâre hoping we have enough evidence to serve search warrants on his home and all his known businesses to uncover a large collection of stolen antiquities that have disappeared from regions where the U.S. Military has been active. They expect it to lead to a large number of people within the armed services who are also on Romanâs payroll. Itâs⊠a scandal in the making, the likes of which we havenât seen before.â
Dean tried to grasp the potential scope of such an operation, and failed. The only thing that was hitting him fully was the fact that Cas was leaving. Heâd only known him a week, but what a week it had been. The three of them sat there silently finishing their drinks, and then Benny excused himself to head to bed. Dean and Cas stayed out a few minutes longer.
âYou got any idea how long youâll be gone?â Dean finally asked.
Cas shrugged. âI was told it was an open-ended assignment.â
Dean nodded slowly, picking at the label on his empty bottle. They still werenât talking about what happened between them. If Cas was leaving, Dean thought that was probably for the best, even if it felt a little like getting stabbed in the heart. Maybe Cas just took pity on him, or maybe he was feeling just as much regret as Dean was, but he offered him just a shred of hope.
âI wasnât ordered to move again, at least, so I assume Iâll be back eventually.â
Dean took that as the tiny bit of comfort it was and gave Cas a sad smile. âThatâs something, at least.â
What went unsaid between them was that it still wouldnât change anything between them. Even if Cas was back by the end of the week, heâd still be Deanâs commanding officer, and any potential for a relationship beyond that would be off the table. It really was a no win situation no matter how they sliced it. He could blame Dick Roman for that if he wanted, but even if Dick had never even existed heâd still be in the same boat.
Dean had lost all hope for anything beyond friendship with Cas even before this, but that was when he knew Cas would at least be around to be friends with at all. Now he wasnât sure at all that Cas would really ever come back.
Worrying too hard about it right then was more than Dean could bear, so he sighed and stood up.
âGuess we should figure out where to stow that box, if we got any hope of sleeping on anything that even resembles a bed tonight.â
Cas reluctantly followed him down into the cabin to spend one last night holding on to Dean while they both adamantly refused to comment on it at all.
The next morning, a few hours after sunrise, they finally got the call theyâd been waiting for. Theyâd been ordered to sail north to Langley Air Force Base, where theyâd be met by Bobby, Sam, and a contingent from NCIS to escort the crate back to Samâs lab. At least one thing was ending up right where it belonged.
Benny motored up to the dock, and Dean jumped out to tie off the mooring lines as Sam and Bobby walked up to greet them.
âDude, you look like you need a shower and a shave,â Sam said.
âYeah, well Iâve been trapped on that tub for the last two days, and I didnât exactly get a chance to pack for a weekend getaway in advance,â Dean replied, rubbing his scruffy cheek as Cas and Benny carefully lifted Samâs crate up on to the dock.
âDonât disparage my boat, Dean,â Benny retorted, before looking up at Sam. âGot you a little present.â
Sam dropped to his knees and checked the label on the crate, shaking his head. âI canât believe anyone thought they could get away with this. Do you know whatâs in here?â
âWe were kinda hoping you did,â Benny replied.
Sam laughed. âYeah, well, itâs a stone tablet encased in clay. From everything weâve been able to tell so far, it contains some sort of ancient record of a creation myth. It might be the earliest known record of human writing ever found, and someone just tossed it into the ocean.â
âYour very own Rosetta Stone to decipher,â Dean replied, and Sam just stared at him. Dean squirmed, and tacked on, âWhat, I read. And you used to keep a lot of really interesting books lying around when you were a kid.â
âWhatever, Dean, but youâre right,â Sam replied, looking more relieved than Dean had seen him in ages.
Behind him, Cas climbed up on the dock, too, and Sam peered around him with an anticipatory look. He held out a hand for Cas to shake.
âYou must be Captain Novak,â Sam said. âIâm Deanâs brother.â
Cas just stared at Samâs hand for a moment, clearly struggling to get his land legs back after so long at sea. Eventually he recovered enough to take Samâs hand.
âYes, I gathered. Itâs nice to finally meet you, Sam.â
âYou too,â Sam replied, as Cas wandered off toward the cluster of NCIS agents waiting further down the dock.
Dean watched him go with a growing sense of dread. Theyâd reached the end of their mission, and he wasnât sure how much longer he had with Cas before heâd be gone from his life again. It felt stupid to stand around shooting the sh*t with Bobby and Sam when he could be spending every last moment with Cas. Even if he and Cas werenât really talking about anything.
Cas returned a few minutes later looking supremely disgruntled. He pulled Dean aside and spoke quickly and quietly as he reached into his pocket.
âIâm apparently being escorted to Washington now,â he said, handing his keys to Dean. âI was hoping Iâd at least be allowed to shower and change first, but sometimes the wheels of bureaucracy turn fast enough to crush you in the gears. Would you mind taking my truck back to my house for me? I know itâs an inconvenience, but Iâd sincerely appreciate not just abandoning it at the Norfolk pier.â
Dean nodded and accepted the keys, feeling like Cas had just kicked him in the chest. He had to clear his throat before he could speak. âYeah, I can do that for you.â
Cas gave him a fond smile, reached out and laid a hand on Deanâs shoulder with a look in his eyes that Dean took as a sort of promise that heâd be back, even if neither of them knew when that might be. They couldnât really say anything else, so Cas took a deep breath and one sharp step back before giving Dean a formal salute. Dean found himself returning it on instinct, despite feeling like he was about to start sobbing and hauling Cas bodily back into Bennyâs boat. Maybe they could escape out into international waters and begin a life of piracy. As soon as the thought had come to him, Cas turned on his heel and marched off to meet up with his official escort.
âHeâll be back, son,â Bobby muttered to him with a reassuring nod before heading off behind Sam and his security detail transporting their crate.
All of a sudden, Dean and Benny were left there alone, with nothing to do but head home with even less than theyâd set out with. All Dean had left of Cas was the keys in his hand, clutched tight enough to hurt.
âYou good to go?â Benny asked after a few minutes.
Dean sighed and jammed Casâs keys into his pocket before jumping back down onto the boat. âNot at all. He didnât even get to enjoy the rest of his fish,â Dean muttered while Benny freed the mooring lines from the dock and left Dean to his moping.
It was getting late by the time they made it back to Norfolk. Benny quietly began unloading all his gear while Dean still sat on deck staring at nothing. He was startled when Benny finally dropped into the seat beside him and handed him a cold beer.
âI assume you donât wanna talk about it,â Benny assured him. âBut let me just say I know how you feel, brother.â
It was only in that moment, after mindlessly chugging down half the beer in his hand, that Dean remembered that Bennyâs wife was at home waiting for him for the first time in more than a month.
âDude, you should be with Andrea instead of sitting here with me.â
âShe knows Iâm on the way. I just donât like leaving you here like this.â
Dean snorted. âI ainât good company right now.â
âAgreed,â Benny replied cheerfully. âBut youâve been good company to me through a lot of long stretches where I was probably terrible company.â
Dean shook his head and drained the rest of his drink. âYeah, Iâll be fine tomorrow,â Dean replied. âItâs just been a long few days.â
âYou sure youâre gonna be all right?â Benny asked, plucking the empty bottle from Deanâs hand and standing up.
Dean just nodded, but then shrugged. âIt is what it is, man. Thatâs just life.â
Benny started climbing up onto the dock, but then turned back. âJust so you know, I put a cooler with the rest of the fish and potatoes in the front seat of his truck. You should go home, have some food, and get yourself to bed.â
âYeah, yeah, thanks mom,â Dean replied, getting to his feet and stretching out the kinks in his back. âIâll get on it. You say hi to Andrea for me. Tell her thanks for letting me borrow you for a bit.â
Benny snorted, and then waved as he headed back to his truck. There was nothing left to do but for Dean to do his best to follow Bennyâs advice. He drove Casâs truck home. Dean didnât have the brainpower to figure out the logistics of dropping it at Casâs house.
He nearly broke down and cried over the fish and then again in the shower. When he climbed into bed a short while later, he realized it was the first time heâd lain in his own bed since Cas had woken up with him there a few days ago. He could still smell him on his pillow. Dean hugged it tight and lay there in the dark.
Of course heâd already known that whatever had been going on between them wasnât sustainable. They would never be allowed to continue their relationship if they both wanted to keep their jobs. Dean had already gone through at least half the stages of grief over it. But now alone in the dark, not having a clue when he might ever see Cas again at all, it was like a hard reset on that entire grieving process. Instead of at least knowing he had a friend in Cas, he had nothing at all.
Sunday, Dean finished off Casâs fish and completely failed to avoid thinking too much about him. He ignored his phone, he ignored his chores, and couldnât tell you how he spent most of the day if he tried. All he knew was that he had to pull himself together enough to function, which heâd mostly accomplished by the time he crawled back into bed Sunday night.
The next morning at work, he felt the empty place that heâd grown accustomed to Cas filling for the first few minutes of the day. He missed Casâs grumpy presence at his coffee machine, missed him popping into the hangar to see how he was doing, missed just knowing he was in the building at all.
On his lunch break, Dean dropped Casâs truck in the driveway at his house and hiked back to the hangar. He held on to his keys, though. He wasnât sure if Cas had another key to his house anywhere, and didnât want to lock the poor guy out. Cas would surely figure out where to find his keys when he got back. It was at least something tangible Dean could hold on to to prove that Cas had really been in his life, even for such a short time. He clutched the keys in his pocket all the way back to work.
Rufus stopped by to discuss their off the books mission, but even he didnât have any further information on what was going on with Cas, or with Dick Roman
When he swung by the CAP after work, Bobby had a similar lack of new information to share with him. He was also kind enough not to mention that Dean had ignored his calls all weekend. At least Bobby was good for commiserating with about it all, even if Dean wasnât really able to articulate anything he was feeling about any of it. Bobby seemed to understand anyway, and poured him a drink and let him ramble on for a while and not really saying a thing at all. He didnât even give Dean a probably well deserved I told you so about it.
âWas that you flying laps over us the other day?â Dean asked eventually. âI thought I recognized your engine noise.â
Bobby laughed, but nodded. âNever met anyone so against flying who knew planes so completely inside out as you, Dean. But it looked like Cas was fighting a battle royale with something out there. Did he win?â
Dean laughed, thinking about their tag team fish wrestling. âYeah, probably a 25 pound mahi. It was good eating.â
Bobby nodded his approval. âYou know, when he gets back, youâre probably gonna owe him at least a tourist flight after putting him through all that.â
Dean almost choked on his drink, and then set the empty glass down on Bobbyâs desk. âDude, talk about the fastest way to get me over missing the guy.â
He shook his head and then got up while Bobby laughed.
âIâm gonna go see how much air time you put on that poor old beast out in the hangar over the last few days.â
Bobby nodded. âYeah, itâs been a long week.â
âAnd itâs only Monday,â Dean replied with a sigh as he left.
He was almost done with his check of Bobbyâs plane when Claire rolled into the hangar in another of the CAPâs planes. She climbed out and wandered over to the desk to complete her post-flight report, waving at Dean as she went. He went over to join her.
âYou have a nice flight?â he asked her, and she shrugged.
âWeâve been flying regular routes over the drop site hoping to catch someone out there looking for that crate,â Claire told him. âNothing yet, but thereâs a chance whoever was gonna retrieve it got spooked.â
âOr theyâre waiting until they think the coast is clear,â Dean said. âBennyâs gonna take his dive team out that way tomorrow, too. Close enough to keep an eye out, but not close enough that it looks fishy.â
âLike you and Uncle Cas?â she replied, smirking at him before going back to her paperwork. âYeah, he told me about the huge fish,â she said, infusing those last two words with all the sarcasm usually reserved only for the fishiest of fish stories.
âDude, that fish fed three of us for two and a half days. It was damn impressive, actually.â
âYou got a picture?â Claire replied, and Dean frowned.
He did actually take a picture when they hauled the fish back out to prepare it for dinner. Benny had jokingly suggested they capture the moment for posterity, and Dean had snapped a quick photo with Cas holding his catch. He hadnât even looked at it when heâd taken the picture, mostly doing it to humor Benny. Now he pulled out his phone and found it, and he almost didnât want to show it to Claire. But if anyone on the planet could appreciate the fond, proud smile Cas had given him in that moment as much as Dean could, it would be Claire. He handed her the phone, and she took it, giving him an impressed nod at the size of the fish before taking in the rest of the picture. When she handed it back, she had a warm, knowing smile.
âHe told me he left for DC,â Claire said softly. âHe sounded really unhappy about it, if that makes it any better.â
Dean sighed. âNothing is really gonna make it better for a while.â
Claire reached out and held his arm until Dean looked up at her. âYou wanna come over for dinner tonight? Kaia and I are making chili, and we thought maybe we could throw on a movie.â
Dean shook his head. âMaybe another night. But thanks.â
Claire nodded at him. âIâll let you know when I hear from him again. I know he canât really say much about what heâs doing, but I also know heâd really rather be here. I canât remember actually seeing him as happy as heâs been since he got here.â
Dean gave her a weak smile, and then headed out. Across the parking lot, he saw Hannah leaving for the day. It was late for her to have still been in the office, and she had a huge file box in her arms she was struggling with. He was once again grateful that he didnât work for the kind of monster that would send her home with that much work. He almost ran over to help her, but she had the box stashed in her trunk before he could get his feet moving. Dean gave her a little wave, and she nodded back grimly before getting in her car and driving off.
Dean sighed, and did the same. Heâd thought about stopping off for a burger, but he couldnât even bring himself to do that again yet. Instead, he drove on autopilot, pulling up in front of his house before he could convince himself to do anything else. He spent most of the week on autopilot.
Friday after work, he went up to visit Sam. It was an excellent decision for so many reasons. First off, Sam was over the moon about what their preliminary tests were beginning to reveal about the artifacts theyâd already begun to study. The crate that Dean had helped recover was still in lockdown, keeping it secret from the woman suspected of drugging Frankâs crew and being on Romanâs payroll. But the university was onboard with Sam, and was fully cooperating with the investigation into Gloria Jane. In service to that, theyâd assigned a lawyer to serve as the liaison between Samâs department and the government investigation.
âSheâs amazing, Dean,â Sam told him over pizza and beer in his living room. âHer nameâs Eileen Leahy, and sheâs brilliant and honestly hilarious. She walked in knowing her sh*t about the archaeology, but also arguing rings around even the government lawyers. Iâve never met anyone like her, Dean.â
âSo have you proposed to her yet? Offered to have her babies?â
âUgh, Dean,â Sam replied, as Dean smirked at him.
âMaybe you should at least ask her out,â Dean suggested once heâd gotten the obligatory big brother teasing out of the way.
Sam deflated, but nodded. âYeah, Iâm working up to it. We got a meeting scheduled for Monday, and I was gonna invite her to lunch afterward to test the waters. But I think sheâll say yes.â
Despite his own romantic hard luck, Dean was happy for his brother. At least one of them deserved to be happy.
âWell, I canât wait to meet her. She sounds like a keeper.â
Sam laughed. âI mean, Iâve only known her a few days, but⊠yeah, honestly. I think she might be.â
Dean returned home, giving himself the weekend to pull himself together. He still hadnât heard from Cas, which wasnât entirely surprising. He couldnât even imagine what theyâd say to each other. Hallmark definitely didnât make cards for this situation. Unsurprisingly, the weekend wasnât near enough time to get over it.
Monday at work, Rufus stopped by his office for a cup of coffee and shut the door, helping himself to a seat and staring Dean down across his desk.
âJust thought youâd like to know that harbor patrol picked up a fishing boat registered to one of Dickâs shell companies circling around that dive site with an ROV last week. They had the drop coordinates programmed into their GPS, and the entire crew was detained. Not surprisingly, they all flipped on one of Romanâs proxy CEOâs. That Edgar guy who runs Wellman Air. And yesterday, I heard he flipped on Roman. So parkingâs about to get easier at the CAP now that the Navy seized Wellman.â
Dean heaved a sigh of relief. So everything was out in the open now. That was good news for Sam. He could finally open that last crate, especially if the woman responsible for the mass poisoning of the crew of a US Naval vessel had been apprehended. He still refused to let that give him any sort of hope that it could mean Cas would be coming home any time soon. And Rufus was in a perfect position to sympathize with him on that front.
âSo they still got you unretired for a while anyway?â Dean asked.
Rufus nodded, and then sighed. âI was supposed to be sitting on a beach in the Bahamas drinking mai tais out of a coconut this week, and instead Iâm here in this cave drinking your coffee out of a novelty mug.â
âSorry for your loss,â Dean replied.
âYeah, yeah, well they canât keep me here forever,â Rufus said. âEven if it seems like theyâre gonna try.â
Dean dragged himself through yet another week barely going through the motions of daily life. It felt wrong trying to just go back to how things were before heâd met Cas, but thanks to two decades in the Navy it was a routine he could practically do in his sleep. Days stretched into weeks, and he eventually did take everyone else up on their offers to go to dinner or see a movie, or even once to go out fishing with Benny as long as they went up the river instead of out into open water. Dean didnât think he could handle catching another mahi mahi just yet, and Benny was nice enough not to tease him about it.
Charlie was back, at least, and once she got settled in she sat Dean down and forced the whole story out of him. It went a lot easier with the bottle of Spanish wine and the assortment of candies from across the Mediterranean she plied him with. She sympathized, but there was still nothing either of them could do to really make it any better. At least Dean didnât feel so completely alone with his loss anymore.
Claire and Kaia watched a few movies with him, and he even brought himself to let Bobby take him to 50âs Burgers after about a month. Possibly best of all, Sam and Eileen had become a hot item, and Dean had to entirely agree with Samâs original assessment of her when they finally met. The woman was so far out of Samâs league he told his brother to make sure he never, ever screwed that up, because he would never meet anyone else like her again.
Everyone else, though, had moved on with their lives, and most of them probably assumed that Dean had, too. Rufus still hadnât been given official permission to retire again, but that was honestly par for the course for the Navy. Paperwork always took more time than anything else.
The only thing Dean had changed in his usual pre-Cas routine was a daily drive past Casâs house. Just to keep an eye on the place for him, Dean had told himself at first. He still had Casâs keys in his pocket, and eventually he started dropping by at least every few days to start up Casâs truck. He even drove it around a few times, especially once the weather started to turn colder. He didnât want Cas to come home to a stalled engine and four flat tires. It was just the neighborly thing to do, Dean convinced himself. He wasnât just trying to comfort himself by lingering in Casâs space. He rationalized that he also had Casâs house keys, and he hadnât gone in and slept in Casâs bed or rifled through his closets or anything. Not that the thought hadnât occurred to him in some of his lower moments, but he managed to squash the impulse before actually following through on it.
When Cas left him so suddenly, Dean had felt like heâd been stuck, frozen in place and unable to move. And after six weeks, Dean still hadnât begun to feel like heâd been unfrozen yet. He was beginning to wonder if he ever would, or even if he wanted to. Because if he started moving again, heâd have to feel the loss of Cas, and everything they couldâve had in a better universe than the one where they lived.
Chapter 12
Chapter Text
đ„ïž
It was the last Saturday in October, almost two months since he first met Cas. The truck was a little low on oil, and Dean had decided to just go ahead and give it a full oil change. He had everything spread out on Casâs driveway, the pan beneath the truck filling with drained oil as he checked everything else under the hood. Heâd slid underneath to replace the drain cap, and nearly hit his head on the bumper when he slid back out and realized he was no longer alone.
âHello, Dean,â Cas said, standing over him looking mildly bewildered.
Two months of unprocessed feelings broke out in an instant melee in Deanâs chest at the sound of his voice and the sight of his face. Heâd been starting to wonder if heâd exaggerated how attractive Cas was in his own memories, but no. Standing there, blinking at him, Dean realized his memory version of Cas in no way did the man justice, and he was smacked in the face with it all over again. Suddenly, two months felt like far too short a time to have come up with anything at all to say in this situation. He was relieved that Cas had at least one thing to say.
âWhat are you doing?â
Dean scrambled to his feet, wiping his greasy hands on a rag and grabbing the bottle of oil heâd been about to pour into the engine.
âOil change,â Dean replied. âFigured itâs been sitting here too long.â
Cas nodded slowly, and Dean snapped back into action, filling the oil, making sure everything else was ship shape and squared away, and then letting the hood slam shut.
âI appreciate it, Dean,â Cas said when Dean eventually remembered to hand the man his keys.
Dean stood there for a second, holding them in his hand one last time. Theyâd been a talisman that had gotten him through the last few months, and it was hard to part with them, even though Cas was standing right there again. Until he was sure that Cas hadnât come back just to pack up his life and leave again, Dean didnât really want to let go of the one tangible thing that Cas had left in his care.
Even though Dean was just standing there, clearly clutching Casâs keys, Cas wasnât making any move to claim them. He stood there looking just as frozen, just as completely unprepared for this moment as Dean felt. Eventually, Dean convinced his hand to unclench enough to dangle the keychain out for Cas, and Cas smiled as he reached for his keys.
âSo did you manage to take down Dick?â Dean asked, and Cas grinned at him.
âThereâs going to be a formal press conference tomorrow detailing his arrest and the seizure of all of his assets. I was invited to stay for that, but after two months fully immersed in it, I have even less interest in the political circus of DC than I did before.â
Dean laughed at that, partly because he knew how much Cas hated political gamesmanship, and partly just out of pure relief that he truly had been unaffected by his time at the center of a political power struggle. âYeah, but was it worth it?â
Cas tilted his head, a gesture that Dean had almost forgotten he did, and it sent a warm zing through him to see it again now.
âWhat do you mean?â
âTaking down Dick. Was it worth everything you went through to make it happen?â
Cas fiddled with his keys, absently flipping his way through them in his hand, much the way Dean had been doing with them for the last two months. He experienced a bizarre pang of nostalgia watching Casâs hands, and startled when Cas finally spoke again.
âMost of the time, it didnât feel like it would be. There was an ongoing uncertainty that the case weâd built against Roman wouldnât be enough, that it would fall apart, or be torn to shreds by his lawyers. He has a lot of allies, or at least a lot of people in positions of power heâd secured in his bottomless pockets.â
Dean snorted, folding his arms and leaning back against the front of Casâs truck. He wasnât sure where this was going, but considering how carefully Cas was picking his words, Dean wanted to brace himself, or at least not allow himself to hope that Cas was really back to stay.
âDickâs had years to bribe and wheedle his way into all sorts of dark corners,â Dean replied.
âThereâs a team of investigators who will likely spend years scouring them all out,â Cas said. âA team I was asked to join, for what itâs worth.â
Dean tensed, waiting for the blow to come. âWhat, a transfer to DC?â
âAnd a promotion.â Cas added, and then laughed. âThey just gave me a promotion six months ago, but someone wanted to make an offer too good for me to refuse.â He smirked at Dean, and then shook his head. âI suspect someone in my family was behind that push. Honestly, sometimes I think some of them are even worse than Dick Roman. And none of them would appreciate what I might do with that sort of commission.â
âWait, what? So you didnât take the job?â
Cas smiled at him. âDean, did you not hear anything Iâve told you about my family? I have no interest in pursuing the political ambitions they keep pushing on me. Half the time I was gone, I wondered if theyâd somehow arranged the whole thing, setting up Dick Roman for a fall just to pull me back into the family business and force me into the limelight. Thatâs the kind of politics theyâre involved with, and I donât want any part of it.â
Dean shook his head, finally beginning to relax just a little bit. âSo youâd rather stick around here supervising a big drafty hangar than rubbing elbows with the back room power brokers?â
Cas sighed, once again looking down at the keys in his hand, and pretty pointedly not looking at Dean.
âThereâs still a few technical details to work out, but I had a lot of time to think about what I want while I was gone.â
âAnd⊠you donât want to stick around in a big drafty hangarâŠâ Dean said, trying to get out ahead of the feeling of his heart breaking. So he was shocked when Cas burst out laughing.
âQuite the opposite, actually,â Cas said, eventually, finally looking back up at Dean with a grin.
âOkayâŠâ Dean replied, bewildered, and hoping Cas was about to let him in on the joke.
Cas took a few steps closer, and sighed.
âDean, Iâve been in the Navy more than two decades. In all that time, Iâve lived on base, never really spent much money on myself, and thatâs on top of the trust my father set up for me when I was born, which was supposed to fund my ascension to power and prestige. Iâm not sure what anyone in my family would think of what Iâve chosen to do with it, but I honestly couldnât care less. Itâs not their money to spend.â
Dean raised an eyebrow at him, and Cas looked like he was trying to work out how to say the next words. He wasnât about to interrupt, and Dean truly had no idea what to say anyway.
âI spent the last couple of months compiling a survey of Roman Enterprises shell companies and subsidiaries, and over and over again I kept coming back to one in particular. Wellman Air.â
Dean blinked. âWellman? The little charter company next door to the CAP?â
âYou know Hannah there, right? At the front desk?â
âYeah,â Dean replied. âShe saved me from getting my car towed by her asshole boss on more than one occasion. Come to think of it, I havenât seen her in a while. I was kinda getting worried Edgar fired her.â
âWell you probably didnât know that her asshole boss was mostly useless, and Hannah all but kept the company running single handedly,â Cas replied as Deanâs eyebrow raised in surprise. âWhen the warrant was served on Wellman during the investigation, she handed over everything and then closely assisted us with uncovering a far-reaching web of corruption within Roman Enterprises.â
âHuh,â Dean replied. Suddenly her late night departure with a big file box made perfect sense. She wasnât fired, she was blowing the whistle. âAnd to think I assumed she just sat at the front desk to save my ass twice a week. I probably should send a fruit basket to Wellman Air for her.â
Cas nodded, then took a deep breath. âItâs not Wellman Air, anymore. Or at least it wonât be once all the proper paperwork goes through. Some of Romanâs assets are being liquidated, and Wellman was considered superfluous to the governmentâs needs. I was given an incredibly fair price for it, and after a lot of sleepless nights wondering if I was doing the right thing, I realized that the benefits far outweighed the risks. Hannah has agreed to stay on as Chief Operating Officer, which will make this a lot easier. As soon as I get final approval, and wait for my official retirement paperwork to go through, Iâll be giving up one drafty hangar for another.â
âYouâre retiring too?â Dean asked, then shook his head. âPoor Rufus is never gonna be allowed to leave here, is he?â
Cas laughed at that. âNo, Iâve been told a replacement has already been chosen, and will take over for me by the end of the year. Rufus will be retiring officially by the end of next week.â
âSo at least we get to have you around for a little while,â Dean said, feeling a little shaky about it, but that just meant he could keep kicking those feelings down the road for a little while longer.
Cas looked down at his feet, jingling his keys in his hand, and after a moment he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and looked right in Deanâs eyes.
âI was hoping⊠I mean, this is a lot to ask, but I think I have to⊠when I formally take over at Wellman, I will need a qualified avionics chief. And I know you love your job here, and it would be asking you a lot to give it up, but I trust you and your mechanical skills, and would like to offer you the job.â
Deanâs heart climbed right up into his throat. He wasnât sure what was worse, having Cas as his commanding officer in the Navy or as his boss out in the civilian world. Either way, the same rules might apply to any hope that Cas might want something resembling a real relationship. For all Dean knew, he was just one fun night for Cas, but a much better mechanic for the long haul. It was weirdly flattering and insulting at the same time. But this might be his only real chance to even find out, so he had to at least give it a shot. He psyched himself up, took a step closer to Cas and set the greasy rag heâd been twisting through his fingers down on the truckâs hood.
âWhen you said you were putting in for retirement and still staying local, I thought maybe Iâd actually be able to see you. You know, like, socially,â Dean said, the words completely inadequate to the task.
Cas frowned at him, but he looked genuinely surprised, if not a little bit hopeful, too. âWould you like that? I mean, to pick up where weâŠâ his frown deepened. âI donât even know how to finish that sentence.â
Dean laughed. âYeah. I was thinking maybe we could start at the beginning again. Once youâre officially not my CO anymore, I mean.â
Cas took a breath, looking relieved, and nodded. âI think Iâd like that very much, Dean. Once Iâm no longer your CO, of course.â
Dean nodded. âGood. And for the record, Iâd love to come work for you, too, but not if it meant we couldnât have any sort of relationship outside of that, you know? I think Iâd rather have you than any job. Even if youâve been an amazing boss.â
âI donât believe that would be an issue, Dean. If Iâm the boss, I would get to make the rules.â
âAre you sure? I mean, you might be the boss, but would Hannah approve?â
âWhen I was away, I had a lot of time to think. I did talk with Hannah about you, and yes she approves,â Cas said, and then sighed. âMuch of the time, I realized Iâd rather be here. Not because of the work, but because of you.â
Dean licked his lips, processing all of that through. Heâd been in the navy more than half his life, most of that right on that very base. Heâd never really thought about leaving. He'd always intended to stay on until he got too old to manage the work. For the first time, he was actually seriously considering leaving. If it meant being able to have everything heâd always wanted with Cas, then leaping into the unknown might be worth it. At least heâd have Cas by his side to jump with him.
âYou know, Iâm not quite to my 20 years yetâŠâ Dean said, and Cas blinked and looked concerned.
âI couldnât ask you to give up your retirement benefits, then, but you should know the job is still yours, whenever youâre ready to take it.â He paused for a moment, and then turned serious. âHow long will I have to wait?â
Dean shrugged, and then grinned at him. âUntil January 24. I got my GED and enlisted on my 18th birthday. Never thought Iâd be putting in retirement papers exactly twenty years later.â
Cas blinked at him. âBut thatâs less than three months from now. I likely wonât even get the new company up and running by then.â
Dean nodded. âYeah, and youâre gonna be busy. If youâre retiring, youâre gonna have to move again, too. You got a place picked out yet?â
Cas looked horror struck at the idea. âI⊠honestly hadnât even thought of that. I still havenât finished unpacking here yet.â
âWell, then you can save yourself some time and just move those boxes again.â
âThatâs not a comforting thought, Dean.â
âI didnât say it was,â Dean replied. âI mean, Iâm kinda in the same boat here.â
Cas grumbled and frowned. âDonât bring boats into this.â
âAw, come on, you gotta admit that fishing trip was kinda fun,â Dean replied.
Cas shrugged. âI did catch a pretty amazing fish.â
Dean couldnât wipe the smile off his face if he tried, even if he still had months to wait until they were both finally free. When heâd gotten up that morning, he wasnât sure if heâd ever see Cas again, and suddenly they had their whole lives to look forward to, together. He took a careful step closer to Cas, right up in his personal space. They were standing right out on the driveway, and anyone could see them, after all.
âSo, what are we supposed to do for the next few months, Captain Novak?â
Cas tensed up, and his eyes went wide, before he glanced nervously up and down the street.
âI believe we should discuss that somewhere more private, Chief Winchester.â
He grabbed Deanâs wrist and dragged him up toward the front door of his house. While he fumbled with his keys, he glanced back at his truck, and then at Dean.
âIâm not pulling you away from something, am I?â
âNothing that canât wait,â Dean replied.
Cas just nodded and got the door unlocked. As soon as it was open, he dragged Dean inside and then pushed him up against the door with one hand.
âSo are we finally gonna talk about that night?â Dean asked when Cas just stood there studying him.
âLetâs just be grateful that we can talk about it if we wanted to, but right now Iâd rather defer it to later. We have until Monday morning to talk about it, but I think weâve waited long enough for this,â Cas said, and then leaned in and kissed Dean, long and slow.
The kiss was everything their one night of desperate passion hadnât been. Dean grabbed on to him like he knew he didnât have to let go again and gave himself over to it completely. They explored each other slowly, running hands over each otherâs bodies and taking all the time they wanted.
Eventually Cas broke away for air, and without a word led Dean to his bedroom. He began slowly peeling off Deanâs clothes, running his hands and mouth over every inch of newly revealed skin as he went. Dean stood there and let him, groaning when Cas lingered on a particularly sensitive bit of skin. When Cas got down to his hip, Dean pulled him up and began the same procedure on Cas. They took it in turns to finish undressing each other, and Dean was about to lay Cas out on the bed when he froze.
âOh, no,â Cas said, and Deanâs first impulse was to apologize, flee the house, and maybe run away to Nepal. That was probably far enough to bury his humiliation. Luckily he wouldnât need to be quite so melodramatic. âLube. I never unpacked it,â he clarified, waving a hand at half a dozen boxes labeled Bedroom dresser drawers. âItâs in there somewhere.â
âWell thatâs some poor planning there, Cas,â Dean replied. âWe can save it for later and do something else for now,â he added, grabbing his co*ck and running his hand down the shaft. âThereâs lots of things we can do without it.â
Cas watched him, and then shuddered. âI fully intended to lay you out on the mattress and take you apart piece by piece. I was going to open you up with my tongue and then slide inside and make love to you almost painfully slowly, for as long as I possibly can.â
Dean groaned, and a pang of pure need shot through him. âWell if you keep talking like that, itâs not gonna last very long at all.â
Cas nodded. âThough I suspect the search for the lube would have a chilling effect on the mood,â he grumbled out.
Dean spent just another moment imagining it, and then waved a hand. âWe got all weekend. Hell, we got forever if we want. Right now I just want you. I think we waited long enough.â
Cas sighed, only looking slightly disappointed. âI can still take my time with you.â
âI really hope so,â Dean replied, and pulled Cas down on the bed.
Late that evening, when theyâd fully exhausted themselves after finally having bothered to excavate the lube, they lay in bed once again contentedly tangled together and finally talking about everything.
âIâm glad we at least got some use out of this bed, after everything we went through to get it here,â Cas said, and Dean laughed.
âYeah, not looking forward to reversing that whole procedure so soon. So really, have you thought about where youâre gonna move to?â
Cas shrugged, leaning up on one elbow to better look down at Dean. âI still donât really know the area that well, but I assume it would be practical to live closer to Wellman, since Iâll be going there every day.â
âDude, you gotta stop calling it Wellman. What are you gonna call it, anyway? Novak Air?â
âAbsolutely not,â Cas said. âI donât want anyone thinking itâs somehow affiliated with my family.â
âOkay, then, what were you thinking?â
Cas frowned. âI hadnât really thought that far.â
âYou could just call it Cas Air.â
Casâs frown deepened. âIâll figure it out, Iâm sure. Whatever itâs called, Iâll probably start looking for a house nearby next week.â
âOoh, find someplace near Elizabethâs restaurant,â Dean suggested.
âI know you havenât had as long to think about it, but what are you planning to do, Dean?â
âI havenât got a clue, man. I guess Iâll tag along with you when you go house hunting.â
Cas looked at him funny for a second. âWould you want to live with me?â
Dean thought back over what heâd said, and how it had sounded out loud. When heâd said it, he only meant heâd look for a place of his own while Cas was looking around, too. He hadnât meant to imply that he would live with him, but the idea definitely didnât sound terrible.
âAre you asking me to live with you, Cas?â he asked, feeling like he needed to sit up for this discussion all of a sudden, and sliding up to lean back against the headboard. âBecause it feels kinda suddenâŠâ
Cas considered that for a minute, and then sat up beside him. Dean wasnât sure what to do. It felt awkward not to drape his arm over Casâs shoulders, but he wanted to give Cas space to figure this out for himself. It was too important to push.
âMaybe it wouldâve felt sudden two months ago,â he started, and then turned his head to look at Dean. âBut all I could think about when I was gone was coming home to you. I didnât even know if you would want me, but I had to at least try. And now that Iâm here, that weâre here,â he added, waving a hand between them, âI donât want to lose this again. Maybe itâs sudden, but it also feels right. So yes, I suppose I am asking you to live with me. If thatâs something you want, too.â
Dean nodded slowly. âWhat if we end up hating it?â
Cas laughed, and then smiled fondly at him. âDo you really think that will be the case?â
âI donât know, dude. Maybe you got terrible habits I just canât live with. I mean, you run, for fun. What if thatâs just the tip of the iceberg?â
âDean,â Cas scolded.
Dean frowned at him, but then turned serious. He took a deep breath and figured he really didnât have anything to lose.
âYou know watching you walk away back on that dock was one of the worst things Iâve lived through. I didnât know if you were ever coming back, and all I had to prove the entire thing hadnât been some sort of hallucination was a set of keys and half a fish. When I thought about what would happen if you did come back, I figured best case scenario youâd be my boss and maybe friendly enough to get a beer or a burger with now and then. I assumed weâd never talk about what happened again, that youâd just gotten it out of your system and had moved on already.â
Cas made a pained noise and shifted right up against him. âIâm sorry I couldnât say anything else to you back then. Iâve regretted it for the last two months, but I wasnât permitted to contact you while the investigation was still ongoing.â
Dean finally did relent and wrap an arm around Cas, pulling him in tight.
âI figured. I get it, but it still sucked,â Dean replied. âPoint is, I donât ever wanna lose this again, either. I didnât know it back then, but now Iâm pretty sure Iâm in love with you.â He laughed. âEveryone who watched me go through all the stages of grief would probably agree.â
âDean, I love you, too.â
They once again sat there staring at each other, letting the warm and fuzzy feeling of knowing for certain that they felt the same way about each other fill them completely. They had so much more to talk about, but at least they were certain that they had the rest of their lives to figure it all out.
Chapter 13
Chapter Text
Four Months Later
Theyâd taken the month of February to settle into their new home, and now it was the morning of the official grand opening of Free Will Air. Cas had finally settled on the name after a long conversation with Dean shortly before his discharge paperwork had come through. They were both shedding that last bit of the past expectations of their respective families and choosing their own destiny for themselves. It was both liberating and just a little bit terrifying. But not nearly as terrifying for Dean as Casâs last flight as a Navy Captain had been.
On his last official day as his commanding officer, Dean had walked into Casâs office, stood at attention, and asked Cas which plane heâd like to take Dean up in. Cas had stopped looking over the paperwork heâd been reading and stared up at Dean like heâd been possessed. When he recovered from the shock of that question, Cas pushed his chair back and stood up so he could look Dean in the eye.
âAre you seriously asking me to fly you in an airplane?â
âYes, sir,â Dean replied tersely, which was about the only way he could force those words out of his mouth. It might have been his stupid idea, but that didnât mean he wasnât dying on the inside about it.
After having carried on their clandestine relationship for several months at that point, Cas knew Dean inside and out. As a result, he stepped around his desk so he could stand close enough to Dean to see how much he was trembling.
âYou donât have to prove anything to me, Dean,â Cas replied gently. âI know you trust me completely, and I know you trust your aircraft. Sometimes that isnât enough.â
Dean relaxed, knowing he didnât have to put on a show for Cas. He took a deep breath, and tried his best to smile. âI know, Cas. But I want to. I really do. How many times have I dragged you out on the water now? Itâs only fair, and this is the last shot I got at flying in anything other than civilian aircraft. So, how about it? You got time for a joyride before you hang up your wings?â Dean asked, reaching out and flicking the eagle pinned to his uniform shirt.
Cas considered that for a moment, and then raised an eyebrow at Dean. âOkay, then, if youâre sure?â
Dean nodded. âYeah, Iâm sure.â
âSo what are we flying?â Cas asked, leading the way out of his office and down the hall toward the hangar.
âI, uh. I hadnât really thought that through,â Dean said, once heâd gotten his feet unstuck from the floor and jogged to catch up with Cas. âI figured youâre the expert. What do you want to fly, seeing as it might be your last flight in one of these beasts, too.â
Cas stopped in the hallway outside the hangar door and blinked back at Dean with a stunned expression on his face.
âYou just realized that, too, huh?â Dean asked, unable to stop the genuine grin on his face.
âIâd like to fly a Super Hornet one last time, then, I think,â Cas replied.
âNostalgic for the good old days or something?â Dean asked, and Cas shook his head.
âNot particularly, but the F-35 only has one seat, so if youâre coming with, youâll need a seat, as well.â
By the time they landed a few hours later, even Dean was slightly in awe of the experience, despite his knees having turned to jelly when Cas hit the afterburner out over open water.
âSo you agree that flying can be exhilarating,â Cas said as Dean wobbled back to his hangar.
âThatâs one word for it,â Dean replied. âThough I will argue forever that human bodies are not designed to break the sound barrier.â
Cas just laughed at him, and gave him a look of quiet pride. âBut you did it anyway. And now I will never make you do it again.â
Dean stopped on the tarmac just short of the door to the hangar and looked into Casâs eyes. âIâd do it again for you, Cas.â
Cas grinned at him, and they went back to work.
And now they were about to go back to work together again, even if their uniforms were a little different now. Cas and Hannah had redesigned the company logo and chosen a design of bright blue on a deep green background. Which meant for the first time in his life, Dean was wearing something other than navy blue or khaki to work. Cas had insisted that the emerald green work shirt looked great on him, but Dean still had his doubts. When Cas had stood back and smiled fondly at him when heâd modeled his new look that morning, before pulling him in for a joyous kiss, Dean had finally been convinced.
âYou picked this shirt out just because it brought out my eyes?â Dean asked, plucking at the fabric, and Cas had shrugged.
âCan you blame me?â
âIâm gonna miss seeing you in blue, though.â
âTechnically I can wear whatever I want,â Cas replied. âAnd so can you. We wonât be having formal uniform inspections. You can wear hot pink overalls, for all I care.â
Dean gave him a look like he was actually considering it for a second, and Cas looked slightly panicked that he might actually do it. Dean grinned at him.
âI think Iâll still take the green, thanks.â
Half an hour later, Dean grabbed their coffee and practically had to drag Cas out the door. He was still fussing over the box of things he needed to bring in to the office.
âCome on, Cas. Itâs not like we canât come back if you forget something. And if we donât leave now, we wonât be able to stop at Elizabethâs for breakfast. You do want a slice of pecan pie to celebrate, right?â
Cas sighed as Dean took the box from his hands and loaded it in the trunk of the Impala.
âYes, Dean, I do,â he replied.
They stood in their driveway, just smiling at one another. It still felt new and thrilling to be able to be so casual about their relationship in public, and not have to sneak around. Cas reached out and laid a hand on Deanâs shoulder, and Dean still felt that surge of warmth and comfort from the touch.
âThank you for being here with me, Dean.â
âThereâs nowhere else Iâd rather be. You ready to head off into the wild blue yonder?â
Cas frowned at him. âThatâs an Air Force thing.â
Dean laughed and pulled him into a quick kiss without thinking twice about it.
âYeah, but Anchors Aweigh doesnât really fit with the whole airplane business, does it?â
Cas shrugged and conceded the point. âWe need a better song, I suppose.â
Dean considered that for a second as they walked around and got in the car. He reached into the back seat and rummaged around until he found the tape heâd been looking for. He popped it into the tape deck and started the car with a grin at Cas as the new soundtrack to their lives played them off into their future.