InsaneJournal

Who: Dean + Cas Winchester, Penelope Garcia
What: Continuation from here
When: 8/20
Where: Casa de Winchester
Rating: Medium. Dean has some hallucinatory things, Cas gets an NSFW gift, Pen and Dean are Pen and Dean. Y’know the usual.
Status: Complete




The doorbell was ringing. It'd buzzed twice now, and Cas was still a little pile of tensed up muscles directly on top of Dean. Oh, was it mentioned this was post coitus, and the two men were naked, messed and still remembering how to properly breathe? That was a thing.

Cas turned intense, overly wide eyes toward Dean, and then he blinked. Twice. The doorbell rang again.

And then, because he had possibly spent entirely too much time around his husband lately, the dark haired angel removed himself from Dean, standing up with a smile, and then promptly raced up the stairs, leaving Dean to get the door.

Angels were kind of dicks.

Dean got up, pulled on his boxers and went to the door, paused, wiped his stomach off and then answered it. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, smiling charmingly at Garcia. What? It was Pen. If he could flirt with anyone at the door in his underwear, it was her. He looked over her shoulder at Mrs. Miller peeping through her window, cocked his head and smirked. There was a wink too, but he didn’t want to know if the old bat could see it or not.

“See you came hot and fresh.”

Garcia laughed, turning her head to see who Dean was looking at. “Oh my god, pervy elderly! She probably thinks we’re going to have a weird fourgy or something later.” She giggled, play punching Dean in the shoulder. “But come on, I’ll help you hold your chopsticks, I hear yours is ample.” Oh, penis jokes.

“Man, I hope so,” Dean said, stepping aside so she could come in. “You’ll uh, have to give Cas a minute. And excuse the mess.” A very, very atypical mess for any place that Castiel lived. Dean wandered into the kitchen to collect their hastily discarded clothes. Pausing, he figured his jeans were still clean enough and put those back on.

“Hey hot ass! Pen brought dinner!” he shouted up the stairs. He had no idea how long Cas was going to stay freaking mortified, but he hoped it wasn’t too long. He tossed the rest of the clothes that were scattered, and his duffel towards the basement. Clothes were gonna end up there anyway. He looked at Cas’ briefcase and just decided it was going on the coffee table for now.

She shrugged. “Hey, as long as I don’t sit in any evidence. This skirt’s dry clean only.” She smiled and made her way to the kitchen after slipping out of her heels. She figured that Castiel would enjoy the food on plates as opposed to straight from the carton.

“Nah, we took care of that already.” Dean said, throwing down a table cloth just so he didn’t absolutely destroy Cas’ sensibilities. “But watch the table and maybe stick to the armchair.”

Castiel had been upstairs, both ignoring being called a hot-ass and fretting over the mess (oh, god, the mess) that they'd left the place in. It was actually sort of horrifying in the way where he'd had to press himself to a wall and remember how to breathe for a minute. After a minute of that, he'd convinced himself that Dean would deal with it (possibly not perfectly, but at least a little accordingly).

It'd be fine. Penelope was a very nice woman, and Dean said terrible things all the time, so certainly she could deal.

A rinse in the shower later, and Castiel was remaking his entrance, trying to overcompensate from embarrassment with a proper pair of slacks and a button up shirt. He was adjusting a tie as he made it to the bottom of the stairs, but his hair was still too wet and he'd forgotten socks.

Words? Did he need those? He had none, sorry.

Garcia beamed when she saw Castiel, waving. “Hi, sweetheart. I didn’t know what you liked as far as Chinese goes, so I kind of just got a lot.” She was also banking on Dean eating like some sort of food powered robotic squirrel or something; he seemed like he was one of those assholes who could eat as much as he wanted and never care.

Handing Castiel a plate, she showed him the way she’d set out the boxes of food so they could each have a bit of whatever they wanted.

“Gorgeous, you should’ve brought out the sweatpants, because you are not making it easy to keep those clothes on you,” Dean said while he walked past him, smacking his husband’s ass loudly. What? He’d just had a lot of sex. He was allowed to be completely obvious.

“Save me some dumplings.” That, of course, was said around a mouthful of dumpling while he wandered upstairs to go grab a shower of his own and proper clothes. Cas would kill him otherwise.

Cas wouldn't kill him. He would just look at him very sternly. Which was what he did exactly the entire time it took for Dean to make it up the stairs. Frowning at his husband's back proved to be about as useful as frowning directly in his face though (not at all), and so he turned back to Garcia with a little sigh.

"I'm very sorry. About the mess. And Dean." Hey, someone had to be both wry and humble at the same time. "But thank you for the food." He was still holding his empty plate like he might need an invitation in his own home to eat, though.

Garcia laughed even as she put some food onto Castiel’s plate. “It’d serve him right if we ate all the dumplings, even though I got him his own box of them.” She winked at Castiel. “And it’s okay, he’s kind of like a male lion. After they mate, they tend to go rub up against everything their area. Their way of saying mine, mine, mine. He’s just sort of ... well, making sure everyone in here knows it.” She shrugged. “Unnecessary, but adorable.”

"Adorable," Castiel repeated, as if it were a completely foreign word, and only repetition might make it part of his normal vocabulary. It didn't seem to fit though, and he wrinkled his nose a little. "Yes." A pause, as he looked down at his plate, and then took a seat. It was more perching than relaxing. "Well."

She just went to pour him a drink, debating for a few moments before grabbing him some water from a pitcher and some for herself. “He’s got a good heart. The trappings may be ... less tidy than yours, but at the end of the day, you two are connected and you love each other. That’s all I see, you know.” Garcia couldn’t comment on having a messy place. Last she checked she still had D&D miniatures on her kitchen table, drying from their new paint jobs.

"He is righteous," Castiel agreed -- whether or not Dean was a good man wasn't something he would ever argue: he was. That's all there was to it. Cas liked to think he knew that better than most.

Considering, he rolled his shoulders into a shrug and then broke a apart a pair of disposable chopsticks. "We could… misplace the dumplings. That would be deserved."

That made Garcia cackle. She hopped up, moving to stash them in a bowl which she put in the microwave, covered with a cloth. Then she set the empty container back on the counter. “Think that’ll fool him?” After some debate, she went to get them each one, smiling at Castiel broadly.

“How do you like being married? I’m glad you two found each other, you know. Seeing people really in love, who really fit, it just makes me happy.”

When he'd been much younger, someone had told Castiel that he looked very strange when he smiled -- he hadn't been in the habit of it then, but became much less inclined to indulge after that. Still, sometimes he couldn't help it, and now was certainly one of those times.

"It might work," he murmured, making sure to scoot his last dumpling to a very visible point on his plate. "I-- do like it," he said, gazing intently at Garcia. "I had never considered it an option before meeting Dean. But I find it suits the both of us very well, thank you."

She reached out to squeeze his hand a little. “I’m glad you both have a family now, too.” In each other, they could have what they’d likely only marginally had before. Garcia took a bite from her dumpling, leaving it haphazardly on top of her fried rice.

Dean trotted down stairs with unapologetically wet hair (again for the subtle bonus of bothering Cas while he dripped everywhere,) and a t-shirt that was altogether too tight. The jeans were perfect, though.

“We had family before,” Dean pointed out, kissing Cas before he went to go grab a plate. “Not our fault they were kind of crap.”

Automatically, Cas leaned into the kiss. It wasn't even something he could help these days; it was sort of like plants that faced and grew toward the direction of the sun.

"Yes," Castiel agreed, only mildly annoyed at Dean dripping all over everything. "This is better, though."

Garcia just smiled angelically at Dean. “I was going to pour you some water too, but I figured you’d want a beer.”

“Cas gets the beer. I’ll take the water.” And for a second he looked almost like he was thinking about being difficult. “Cas gets all the beer. The goal is to get the boy drunk since I’m not.” At all. Ever again. Man, that was depressing.

He looked over at the spread of food and added darkly. “The hell did you assholes do with my dumplings.” It was more demand than question.

Cas actually squirmed in his seat, and whether it was because he wasn't comfortable with the idea of getting drunk, or because he was just that poor of a liar and he was keeping himself from looking at the microwave, remained to be seen.

On the other hand, the blonde hacker was quite good at fibbing. “Want the rest of mine?” She held it up expertly with her chopsticks for a moment before shrugging and popping it into her mouth. Standing up, she went to get her own beer. “You’re okay with me drinking, Dean?”

“Yeah, go ahead. Ended up paying a visit to Cas’ little brother’s boyfriend at the bar not long ago. Being drunk around isn’t an issue.” He glared at Castiel. “Having my dumplings missing, however, is. Steamy deliciousness, angel. Where is it?” There was a shift in tone in Dean’s voice, one that very much marked that he expected to be listened to and if Cas was good and prompt about replying, he’d be rewarded for it later. If not, well…

That. That was unfair. Castiel's expression said exactly that for an instant before he narrowed his eyes and slumped his shoulders. "Microwave, Dean."

He realized rather quickly that Dean had no problem with that shift in -- whatever-- around Pen, and went straight to pink. Beer was a good idea. He stood to get one.

Garcia knew that tone too, and she sat up a tiny bit straighter. She wasn’t as into the BDSM scene as some, but she’d been to a fetish ball or three. But she was very, very good at sassing, and so she leaned back and grinned. “I was hoping to get you worked up for at least two or three more minutes. Sir.” She couldn’t help it.

“Thank you, gorgeous,” Dean said, kissing Castiel’s hair as he went to retrieve the dumplings.

“No one gets called sir in this house, Penelope.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “Sir’s for the service and shitty dads.” He finished filling his plate and flopped down heavily and happily into his chair. “So how’s it going?” He grinned brightly at her. “Cas didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

"You invited her last week, Dean. I only saw fit to mention a reminder." The brunet angel was very pointedly working at the fastening on his beer, as if it took a great amount of concentration to twist the lid off. It wouldn't do him any good to look up though, because he'd most likely only find a new and more interesting shade of pink to turn.

Garcia hummed as she put the beer between her thighs and used one of her rings to pop the cap off with. “As long as you don’t make him call you daddy. Dated a guy in college who did that, and it just was awkward. Then again, a little humiliation in the sack is good for the soul.” She winked at Dean, leaning back. “There’s soup dumplings too, if you want those. They’re amazing.”

“Again, shitty dads,” Dean pointed out. He looked over at the shades of pink Cas was turning and decided that he could probably do with adding a few more. “You got any pointers for my pretty boy over here?”

Yes, Castiel, these were exactly the conversations he and Pen had constantly. Sometimes a little embarrassment at the dinner table would be good for the cock later.

Just you wait, Dean. Some day, Castiel was going to be able to teleport the fuck out of awkward situations. Literally.

Finally, when his beer was opened and he couldn't pretend to be interested in it anymore, Cas slipped back down into his seat, sipping his beer with two hands and considering his food which he clearly wasn't in the mind to eat. Pink? No. That was red. Still, he tried. "I just call him Dean." If he was going to be the point of the conversation, he might as well be a part of it, too.

“That’s more intimate.” Garcia grinned, leaning back. “And I’m sorry for embarrassing you, Castiel. But it’s kind of cute. You look good in red.” She hopped up to get them all soup dumplings out of the package she hadn’t opened. Handing them off, along with straws, she smiled. “Did you see my car, Dean? Figured you’d want to check her out under the hood.”

Dean didn’t want soup really, but he let it sit on the table by him regardless. He wasn’t sorry and had no intention of apologizing when he didn’t mean it. Cas would know after all. He’d just make it up to him later. “After dinner, yeah.” He winked at her. “Worked up quite the appetite.” He looked over at Cas. “Eat. You’re gonna need your strength.”

Still entirely too red, Cas downed half of his beer in one go and then set it down on the table to reclaim his chopsticks. Being an intense sort who concentrated wholly on anything he did, it was probably no surprise to anyone that he tackled his plate of food, eating it like it had personally offended him.

Smiling fondly, Garcia started in on her soup dumpling, delicate and polite. She ate her food slowly and carefully, savoring it and closing her eyes when she was happy. “Mmph,” she sighed. “Oh, Dean? Thanks, by the way. Bast is making me dinner on Friday.” Her eyes lit up, and she grinned at Castiel. “When he’s not putting you over his knee, he’s playing matchmaker for me. Dean’s a saint.”


“I don’t need to put him over my knee,” Dean said before Cas could choke, using a fork and spoon like the American he was thank you very much. “And good, that asshole better friggen put out.”

Dean was righteous and good, but he most certainly wasn't a saint. Cas cleared his throat, chanced looking up from his plate and offered something that was probably meant to be a smile, but completely missed the mark.

He was not thinking about spankings. And he was not thinking about how freely the two of them spoke on them when it involved himself.

"Is this the man who seemed offended at the idea of Dean wining and dining you?"

She nodded. “It is. Sebastian was jealous at first, but he didn’t know you two are married. I reminded him that I was there, that you two are more married than anyone I’ve ever seen.” She couldn’t help but sigh a little. “And he’s going to put out, but he’s not an asshole. We agreed to wait for three dates, thanks.”

“Hey now, it was an endearing asshole,” Dean said, shrugging. “Besides, he’s a guy. No guy in the world hasn’t been an asshole at least once in his life. Myself included.”

Dean kept eating. Eating was amazing.

Castiel liked to think that he was a rather pleasant person and lacked that whole being an asshole thing, but even he was sure that he'd done it once or a dozen times. He shrugged, vaguely amused at the turn of conversation, and more than a little pleased that it had gone away from his bedroom (kitchen, living room, car, bathroom) activities.

He pushed the rest of his food away and then went back to his beer. "I'm very happy for you," he told Garcia, with a totally solemn expression.

“Oh, thank you, Castiel.” She smiled, squeezing his hand. “So, I brought you presents. A little birdie told me - okay, it was Dean, and he’s neither little nor a birdie, he’s more a sex panther - that you have a birthday.” She hopped up to grab her huge purse, pulling out a couple of boxes.

“Hey, 60% of the time, it works every time.” Dean finished clearing his plate and went up for seconds, stopped and then realized that his seconds were really included in his firsts and maybe he should just wait for the typical hungry twenty minutes later anyway that came from Chinese food.

It made the most sense. If he ate more now, he’d still be hungry at about the same time and then, there’d be leftovers. Also they were out of dumplings and he really couldn’t be bothered to be interested in much else.

Were they quoting something? Castiel seemed concerned about the percentage ratio that didn't actually add up or make sense, but remained quiet, just in case his lack of understanding made him look silly.

"Oh," he said, and sat up a little straighter, watching Garcia rummage through her purse. It was so terribly nice of her to buy him a gift, he certainly hadn't expected or even hoped for it. "Thank you," he said, minding his manners before the fact. "And yes. I'm thirty seven today."

“I will punch you in the ovary,” Garcia giggled. She had two brightly wrapped boxes, and she handed the first one, the heavier one over. “Now, this one was heavily influenced by Dean.” It was a lovely glass toy, pretty and feminine, yet bound to make the angel blush. “I figured you two would have fun with it.”

That sentence was a cause for concern, wasn't it? Castiel looked vaguely worried for a moment, but then shoved that emotion to the side in order to carefully undo the bright wrapping paper (no tearing, just careful pulling of tape). When he opened the box up to find the little glass item inside, he gave a great pause.

A pause that continued on into silence. Deep silence, that somehow filled the room completely. The poor angel had found an entirely new shade of red, and his mouth was thinned into a very, very straight line.

Garcia smiled at Dean and then handed Castiel his other package. “This one’s just from me.” In it were pin replicas of the various Pokémon trainer badges, and three or four small plush toys. There was also one large one of Ohsawatt, large enough for cuddling.

Cas was entirely too happy to set the glass toy aside to open up the new package. It had become ridiculously heavy in his hands and he felt awkward even looking at it.

That he even knew what it was for sort of shocked him.

He wasn't one for toys or collectors items, but he had been on a very large, very OCD prompted collection of pokemon lately, and so he was pleased over these. The Oshawott stared at him with large friendly eyes, and the angel had to fight back the urge to actually hug it, if only because he was embarrassed enough already.

"Thank you," he said, and was well aware that his tone was thready and close to strangled.

“I still sleep with a huge Gengar,” Garcia beamed. “Want to trade later? I have my 3DS in my purse.” She was close to Dean, but found Castiel a little further away from her, and she wanted to hug him. She’d be a good friend to him, even if he was unaware of it.

She actually fucking got it. They sure as hell weren’t going to use it if only because Dean was really uncomfortable with the idea of glass in Cas’ (or anyone’s) ass, but she did it and the otter thing.

And it was sweet, that gesture of friendship. “Probably better to trade with her than me,” Dean said, kicking back and smiling fondly at the both of them. “I seem to have this habit of killing ghost types with extreme prejudice instead of catching them.” Dean was pretty sure it was a subconscious thing.

What definitely wasn’t was wanting to see Cas hug the damn otter.

Hey, those things were perfectly safe, or else they wouldn't continue to make or sell them, right?

Cas nodded, juggling with the plush in order to pick up his beer. Yeah, he was really close to just cuddling the thing. Not quite, but a few more beers might result in that kind of behavior. "I would like that. There are game specific ones that I have been unable to get."

One beer finished off, he settled the empty bottle on the table, and glanced up at the both of them. Okay, it was still awkward.

Dean looked at Cas, watching him watch the box and then just said “Oh hug the damn otter,” as he got up to get a soda. Water was boring. Coke would be better.

“Or the ones that only evolve when you trade them,” Garcia groused. “I hate those.” She’d trade them right back to Cas to make sure he got the evolution. “I know glass isn’t a traditional material, but it’s that same glass they use to make Pyrex. I have other stuff in the same material, and it’s basically impossible to break, but you can clean it way easier. I just chunk mine in the dishwasher.” Plus, it was beautiful.

Oh, were they talking about that again? Cas had been positive that his skin tone had been evening back out to it's normal not-quite bronze. But there it went again. So he did hug the otter -- subtly, but still. He settled his chin on top of it and rather petulantly said nothing, even as he made a vague grabby gesture at Dean. Dean could get him another drink.

Dean did indeed grab Cas another beer, and did him the solid of opening it for him while he was hugging his otter. It was adorable, and Dean couldn’t stop himself from leaning against the counter and snapping a picture of it.

“I love how you two are all serious about this whole pokémon thing and I’m totally content just killing all the things with my Articuno.”

“Dean, I literally have to catch them all. You could even say that I’ve got to.” Garcia grinned, reaching out to ruffle Cas’ hair. “Maybe someday your Oshawatt can hang out with my Gengar.” She liked hanging out with Dean and all, but she wanted to get to know Cass one on one sometime.

He was used to having his photo taken by now, and so did not bat an eyelash at it -- only nodded his thanks to Dean for the beer and then shrugged.

"It is rather imperative," Cas said, smiling almost boyishly at the hair ruffling and nodding at Garcia's suggestion. It would be nice, he thought, to have more people he could call friends. There weren't many currently. "I don't like battling so much as ordering my boxes and collection." Really, it was kind of perfect for him as far as his sense of order went.

“Oh, gosh, me too! I try to order the boxes by type, then I order the ones inside that by level, and within the level, alphabetically.” Garcia didn’t look it, what with her crazy hair and dress, but she was ridiculously anal retentive when it came to organization and her workspace. She’d been known to smack people upside the head at work who moved anything at her desk.

Which was a little more brash than something Cas might do, but he did manage looking offended and occasionally freaking out pretty well, which had to count for something. "Yes," he said, nodding again. "exactly that. I started out numerically, but it didn't seem as satisfying."

This was your fault, Dean.

Dean stared at the pair of them and nodded. “Right. I’m gonna go look at the car now.” And he pushed off the counter to go do just that.

Garcia giggled, then stood up. “Want to see what I got when I woke up?” She reached out for Castiel’s hand, grinning and following Dean. “In my dreams, it was my dad’s.” She knew that both of the boys would probably be offended or scared by the tangerine orange color.

Castiel stood, taking his beer but leaving the stuffed toy. He regarded Garcia's hand for a beat too long before taking it with his own and allowing himself to be dragged out to look at the car. The angel didn't have an appreciation for vehicles the way Dean did, but he was curious anyway.

Dean gave the car the once over from the outside, skimming his fingers over the paint job while he put his mechanic eyes on. Figuratively, of course. She looked fine from there, but he wouldn’t know anything until he got under the hood, and wouldn’t know everything unless he was behind the wheel. He had no desire to take Esther out for a spin, not when he had Baby in the garage.

Squeezing Castiel’s hand, Garcia beamed. “Isn’t she gorgeous? I don’t know, I feel more at home having her, which is the weirdest thing ever since I’m from here, I am home.” She shrugged, sometimes hating that the dreams affected her, making her feel somehow other, somehow not at home.

“No, I get it,” Dean said, circling back around to the front of the car. He really, really got it. Between having his angel and having his wheels, things felt really, really damn right. Not that he loved his pony any less, but Baby was...she was different. “You wanna pop the hood for me?”

“Of course.” She hopped into the car, pulling the lever that released the hood. She also put the top down while she was there, just because she could.

Cas just tilted his head curiously at the car and then took to his beer like it was going out of style. The car -- it was very loud, wasn't it? Not like his little Oldsmobile Alero, which had a very normal color.

But, of course, it seemed to suit Pen -er, Garcia- very well.

Dean didn’t care about the top, shit he didn’t even really care for convertibles at all. You just got bugs in your hair and they really, really didn’t offer decent protection. Dean lifted the hood, and from that moment on was lost completely to both the birthday boy and his pseudo-sister. He’d be back when he was done looking. He almost wanted to send Cas to the garage to get his tools, but speaking was way further down on the list of things that weren’t this engine.

“Oh sweetheart, you are lovely,” he murmured to the car.

Garcia smiled at Dean, looking incredibly fond. Dean saved that tone for two things, she was sure: engines and Castiel in private. She was enjoying watching him, and she looked over at Castiel. “Dean, you want to take us for a drive?”

Cas looked at Dean, and then back at Garcia. He gave a dutiful little sigh and a shrug and sipped at his beer before offering it to his not quite sister in law. "He's not listening," he said, and if he weren't so solemn about it, it might have come across as wry. "He'll come back when he's ready. Until then, I suppose I could give you a tour of the house."

That made Garcia laugh. “That’d be nice. Or we can trade pokeymans.” She said it silly on purpose, crossing her eyes to make him laugh. She took a sip of the beer as well, proud and flattered that he was offering her a chance to cross-contaminate his beer with her germs.

Don't remind him of that. Germs were kind of weird, but he was still trying to get over his embarrassment and so was catering more than he might usually. "That's a better idea," he agreed, because seriously, he had to catch them all and it wasn't even a joke. He'd spent more than a few nights awake longer than he ought to be with that bright little screen in front of his face.

He led the way back into the house, leaving Dean to-- whatever it was that Dean did (how should he know? he set cars on fire) and went to retrieve his DS. “I am unsure of how to get the third starter. It seems impossible.”

Garcia held up two DS handhelds and grinned. “You have an awesome friend who’ll trade you one. Which one are you missing?” She fished out the friend cord and beamed.

"Well, both beside Oshawott," Cas said, wryly. "I figured you could trade one and then I'd give it back, just for the entry." Not as thorough as he might have liked, but what could you do?

She shook her head. “I can trade you one, then start a new game. Kind of cheaty, but at least you’ll have them both, right? You’ll have low level ones, but better than none.”

"That is perfectly acceptable, thank you." He flipped his game open and didn't feel silly at all for enjoying this, or the fact that he planned on just going through from the beginning to re-level things.

"Thank you. For coming over."

“Of course, Castiel. It’s your birthday, why wouldn’t I come over? You’re my friend.” She hooked up both of their consoles, smiling at him. “I’m glad you like your stuffed animal. I seriously sleep with a Gengar about yay big.” She held her hands up from her head to her belly. Granted, she didn’t sleep with someone at night.

"I'm not sure how well Dean would like that," Castiel said, but seemed amused enough at the idea of attempting it just to see what his husband might say.

"Just -- you know. I know you're Dean's friend first." He wasn't even saying it to be contrary or weird. He was just blunt like that. He rolled his shoulders into a shrug and watched the intro set up for the trading.

“I’m like Dean’s sister. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have room in my heart for more friends, Cas.” She smiled, scooting closer to him and leaning her head on his shoulder.

The angel smiled at that, a tiny quirk of the lips, and flushed a little, a pleasant pink instead of that full blown red from earlier. "Well. It's nice," he said, and then turned his eyes down to his gameboy in order to delight over a new entry in his pokedex.

“It is nice.” Garcia liked having as many friends as possible. It made sense in the context of her dreams; her parents were dead, and her step-brothers lived far away. “But okay, so that trade’s complete?” She turned her other gameboy off and started a new game with the remaining starter Pokémon.

Cas only nodded, leaning over a little to watch her, their shoulders bumping together. The beginning seemed to take a while, so he just quietly sipped at his beer until she was ready. It was clear he didn't drink enough, if ever, since even with only one and a half he was already a little more friendly than he generally was.

“How are your dreams going,” she smiled. “Dean told a little bit. He was helping me talk about his if only because we were talking about dying in our dreams.”

"I do not know I could call them good, per say. But I don't think they're as bad as Dean's, in some sense." He considered it, and found himself at a loss of descriptive words. "I know more now. It's different. Every language. Things that happened before. Well. Anything, really."

Garcia’s eyebrows went up. “I know a lot more about hacking than I did before. Before I was great. Now I’m unstoppable.” She grinned wickedly.

Cas knew nothing about computers other than excel spreadsheets and quicken. He only shook his head as if to say so. "Seems a more useful talent, in some regard. I do not think remembering the mountains being formed is… helpful."

“No, but I bet it’s beautiful.” She squeezed his hand. “And you said you know languages. Think of everything you could do with that.”

“So,” Dean said, coming back inside. “Esther’s in good shape.” He grabbed his coke and flopped down comfortably in the armchair. “Whatever dream mechanic you’ve got knew what they were doing.”

Cas was only nodding thoughtfully about Garcia’s advice, although he was sure when it came down to it he wouldn’t do much with it. He was sort of a man who thrived on schedule and repetition. He’d been at his place of employ for over a decade now. He couldn’t imagine changing it.

“I have new starters,” he said to Dean, as if he might possibly care.

She smiled at Dean, pleased to hear that her own baby was in good shape. “I’m pretty sure I had a family friend who was a mechanic, so she took my babygirl and took care of her. Just ... it was my dad’s, in the dreams.” She grinned at Castiel.

“I picked mine out, in the dreams. It was weird time travel crap. Weird. Never go back in time. The moment when you realize your mom was hot...that’s the one you realize you’re going to hell again.”

He looked over at Cas, so pleased with his pokewhatevers. “Yeah? Got ‘em all now?” He didn’t think it was likely. Not by a long shot.

Castiel thought it prudent to not speak of his parentage in his dreams. Considering. You know. That whole God thing.

He only gave Dean a wry sort of expression that clearly said he did not approve of being patronized about how impossible it was to catch all the pokemon. He was going to do it. Just not all in one day.

“I don’t travel through time or do anything supernatural. I’m fabulous and I help catch bad guys, but in a very sequential, normal way.” She smiled down at her own Pokédex. “106. Closer now!”

Cas was only at 78, but he was also aware there were more than five hundred pokemon at this point. Just not in this game. He was sure that he had a very long hobby in front of him. Which was probably good, because sometimes Dean watched spanish soap operas, and he apparently didn’t like it when Cas translated.

He finished his beer and went to get another.

Dean nodded, watching Cas move. “You gotten to that point, babe?” he called out. “The one where you jack my ass back to the 70s?” It was a good dream...sort of. He got his car and it was the one time in any world he’d seen his dad be anything but a total cockjob.
Speaking of his dad.

”This the sort of sad sack shit you do? Hang around with queen of the goddamn nerds and talk about fucking buttplug care?” There was a broad hand at his throat. Dean knew it wasn’t real of course, none of it was, not the voice or the touch or anything. It didn’t stop his head from tipping back a little instinctively, from his chest tensing up or any of that. “When are you going to do the damn world a favor and put yourself out of your misery?”

He was better at hiding this normally, but actually talking about it with Cas had broken something somehow, some sort of mental seal that just let him pretend it wasn’t happening. This was awful.

Garcia blinked when she saw Dean go a bit more rigid. “Dean? Sweetheart?” She looked to Castiel, biting her lower lip. The angel should know what to do, right?

Cas returned from the kitchen, beer in hand and thoughtful expression on his face. "No, I have not dreamt--" he paused looking from Garcia to Dean and then got a very pointedly apologetic and concerned look on his face.

They'd talked about this, and Cas had said he'd help the best he could. Biting Dean in the privacy of their own home with no one else around had been easy. It'd also worked. This was a little more -- well. Sensitive. He set his beer down on the coffee table, and then turned to Dean. And then, like some kind of asshole, he slapped his husband across the face with an open palm and noise that was probably as shocking as the action.

Dean’s head whipped to the side, and for half a breath he didn’t realize that he could actually breathe again. Cas definitely packed more in him than met the eye, like a damn...mousey transformer. He stretched his jaw, shook his face and looked up at Cas. “Thanks,” he said, still trying to shake that off.

She’d assumed that Castiel knew what to do, but hadn’t been anticipating the slap. It made her squeak a little, and she bit her lower lip hard to keep from making any other noises. Instead of worrying and freaking out, she looked down at her hands.

Cas cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortable about the situation, but really just not apologetic at all. He wasn't going to be sorry for being helpful. "You're welcome, Dean," he said very pointedly, and then retrieved his drink before plunking himself down directly next to the other man. Nearly on top of him. "Did it work?"

Had to be nearly on top of him. The chair was big and all, but it wasn’t that big. “Yeah,” Dean said and looked sheepishly at Garcia. “Sorry. It’s uh...a thing.” Yeah, real helpful there, Dean.
“Oh, you don’t have to explain, I figured as much.” Garcia laughed. “I knew it wasn’t my fault, then I looked around to make sure nobody had snuck in or something.” She snuggled under her sweater, smiling at them both. “Thank you for telling me.”

Cas gave Garcia a look that was completely lacking in subtlety. We talked about this on the internet, that look said. And then I did more research on my own and dealt with it.

Really, Cas wasn't given enough credit sometimes when it came to the sheer amount of will he had piled up in his mousey little package. He put up with a lot, but it was very clear it was only because he wanted to.

"Well, then," he said, slightly drunk and cuddling unnecessarily close to Dean, because public displays of affection didn't count when you were drunk. "We have Sharknado on DVR. Is anyone interested?"

“I’m for it,” Dean said, stretching his arm over Cas. “But can we jam onto the couch instead?”

She’d only acted innocent because she’d promised each of them she wouldn’t tell. If pressed, she’d simply play dumb.

“Sharknado? Oh my god, I love you boys. Seriously. I’d try to sleep with you both if you weren’t family.” Grinning, she hopped up. “You tell me where it is, I don’t want to disrupt the snuggle pile.”

Castiel made a very vague gesture to the remote, even as he stood up because if Dean wanted a cuddle pile on the couch, he’d get a cuddle pile on the couch.

Maybe he should bring Oshawott with.