Dec 04, Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, In the Evening Title: In the Evening Fandom: Supernatural Pairing/Characters: Dean/Castiel Rating/Warnings: All ages Disclaimer:here Prompt:this picture Summary: Even in the snow and after a hunt, the puppy needs to be walked. A/N: Title is once again from a Led Zeppelin song.
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Castiel didn't really understand Dean's reluctance to join him in taking the puppy out for its evening walk. Granted, it was a bit chilly, but the snowflakes were aestheticaly pleasing as they caught the old-fashioned street lamps in this quaint New England town. He feared it was more to do with not truly wanting their new pet or the responsibilities that went with it.
“You need a name,” he informed the animal as it paused to sniff yet another tree, whuffing in frustration as the protective wire around it nipped at his nose. “Perhaps something like 'Butch' or 'Killer' will encourage your hunting instincts.”
The puppy twirled in pursuit of his tail, quickly becoming tangled in the leash and falling over in a mess of thrashing limbs, whimpering pitifully.
“Doesn't really look like a 'Killer' to me.” Dean's laugh came from from just behind Castiel.
“I did say he would need to grow into it.” Castiel squatted down and soothed the puppy as he unwound the leash. “I thought you wanted to clean the weapons.”
“They're clean.” Dean shrugged. “You've been out here awhile. Can't have you getting lost when you can't even use your mojo.”
Castiel sneaked a sideways look, catching a glimpse of worry under the gruff words. He frowned. Dean had enough to worry about. Though their case had been dealt with, there were still plenty of other dangers.
“I am sorry. I must have lost track of the time. I had not realized that it is necessary for dogs to examine every object along their path in quite such detail.”
“Well, that's how they track things.” Dean squatted down this time, arm resting across a knee and looking at the little ball of fur that was trying once again to fit its nose through wire mesh to get at the tree. “Is that what you are? A tracker?”
The puppy gave a little yip.
“I believe that was an affirmative. Shall we call you that then? Tracker?”
Yip.
“I think your little buddy just picked himself a name.” Dean stood and clapped Castiel on the shoulder. “So, we done here? Coming back to the motel?”
“I'm not sure Tracker is tired enough yet. It would be preferable if he were to go to sleep as soon as we return.”
“You got that right,” Dean muttered. More brightly, he said, “So, where to next, then?”
The leash pulled tight as Tracker moved his investigation to the next tree.
“It appears this could take awhile,” Castiel said.
Dean just sighed, though Castiel was certain he saw a hint of a smile. They might win him over yet.