They’ve found themselves in tight spots before, but this is something new, even for the Winchesters.
Cas had dragged Dean inside a conveniently unlocked door as they beat a retreat from some seriously pissed off demons to find themselves faced with a man in a blue pinstripe suit and a long brown overcoat.
He looks at them down his long nose, unsurprised, before nodding his head at Castiel, “Nice coat,” and turning back to his console.
Let’s play a game.
Type the following words into your tags box, then post the first automatic tag that comes up.
you, also, what, when, why, how, look, because, never
Every day, this guy comes into the store, and every day, Dean helps him tape up mysterious boxes of books and figurines and strange little talismans and other weird shit. Every day, they chat a little and he smiles just the tiniest bit as he thanks Dean and hands over his credit card to pay.
Castiel Novak, says the card, and Dean’s memorized the name (and, more embarrassingly, the security code, since he’s typed it every day for three weeks).
Jo thinks it’s hilarious, because Castiel hangs back looking at tape and bubble wrap as the line moves, obviously timing his place in line to match up with Dean’s station, and Dean’s put off his lunch more than once to wait for the man to show up.
But it’s not until Castiel doesn’t show one day that Dean reaches the sudden conclusion that he’s got a terrible girly crush on the dude, and he’s grumping his way through the end of his shift when the door flies open and there’s Castiel, no box in hand, panting and dripping from the sudden rainstorm. “I have a delivery for you, this time,” he says, and strides forward, mashing his face to Dean’s, and Dean doesn’t even care that Jo’s applauding, or that the other customers are staring.
"You’re the most talented peripheral vascular surgeon I’ve ever worked with," Dean declared, ignoring the stares the hallway denizens shot their way as he did so. "The thrombin dosage wasn’t your fault, and you need to get over it."
"I wish it were as simple as believing what you want me to," Cas replied sadly as the background music swelled obnoxiously, "But even you can’t fix everything, Dean."
"Holy shit," Dean says, elbowing Sam. "I think that’s…"
"Hello," Jack Harkness cuts Dean off, pushing Mal Reynolds aside as he holds his hand out to Dean.
Dean looks around Jack and smiles at Mal. “How’s it goin’?”
Mal smirks at Jack. “I win. You owe me twenty bucks.”
OMG THE BEST HAHA
After six weeks working at Mr. McCoy’s Camp Stargazer Jim’s wondered a couple times just what made his co-counsellor decide that an overnight camp for 8-12 year olds was the right summer job, because Spock isn’t exactly what you’d call “good with kids”.
The kids know it, too, and they take every chance they get to test his preternatural calm and push what few buttons they find.
Today, Spock is covered in bright green paint, glitter across his cheekbones and what looks like sharpie hearts scrawled over his bare chest. He catches Jim’s eye and cocks a brow, and Jim feels himself starting to grin. “Need some help there, Spock?” he asks, and his co-counsellor just glares, stalking past him towards the cabin.
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