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Part 2 of "Switch"
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After classes were finished Claire did her best to avoid her friends. She was full of too much nervous energy to deal with another discussion of ‘who’s hot and who’s not’. She didn’t trust herself to be diplomatic about her hate for those kinds of things.

Walking up the driveway Claire saw not only her uncle’s crappy Camaro but her father’s car as well. That complicated matters. It was hard to talk about impersonation when the impersonated was in the same house. Although it figured as much, she could go for days without seeing her father and wishing too, now the one time she didn’t he was home. Chewing her lip Claire unlocked the front door and kicked off her shoes. “Dad?”

“In the kitchen!”

Claire dropped her bag on a chair in the living room as she passed and headed into the kitchen.

“Ow! Damn it Castiel knock it off.”

She found her father rubbing at a red spot on his forehead. “What’s going on?”

Jimmy glared at his brother. “Nothing. How was class?”

“Fine, nothing all that interesting happened.”

“Hmm, that’s good.” Jimmy had already turned back to putting the groceries away.

It was about time one of them did the shopping like they said they were going to. Claire had been about ready to heist money out her mother’s purse (her lousy six hour a week job didn’t cover much) and do it herself.

Her father grunted when something connected with his side.

Turning to her uncle Claire couldn’t help asking, “What’s with the pennies?” She could now see a bunch littering the floor.

Castiel shrugged and threw another one.

“God damn it Castiel!” Jimmy moved out of throwing distance.

“Claire can you please finish putting the groceries away? I need to head back to the office.”

“Dad I…”

“Don’t you think it might be nice to take the night off Jimmy? You spend too much time at the office.”

“Don’t call me Jimmy. Pot and kettle bro, you spend just as much time there as I do.”

“Yes, but I don’t…” Castiel cut himself off and left the room. The argument brewing was best saved for when Claire wasn’t home.

Jimmy just watched Castiel go. He knew something was bothering his brother but he figured Castiel would either figure it out or tell him when he wanted to. He just wished Castiel would stop resorting to torturing him when he was bothered by something he did but some things never changed.

“Claire.”

“Yeah, yeah I got it.” Claire began pulling things out of the nearest bag.

“Thank you, I’ll see you later all right? I love you.” Jimmy was out of the kitchen and the house before Claire could do anything more than huff incredulously.

She responded to empty air, “Sure you do.” The crackers were shoved into the cupboard with more force than strictly necessary. When everything was just about put away Claire heard footsteps behind her. “What was with the pennies, really?”

“Bad habit. I tend to throw small things at Jimmy when he pisses me off.”

Claire tapped her foot, “Oh I see how it is. I can’t yell at people in class but you can throw things at my father because it’s a bad habit? Bit hypocritical don’t you think?”

“No, neither is right. I’ve been attempting to break this habit most of my life.”

“Not doing so well.”

“So it would seem. How was class today?”

Claire accepted the topic change. “It was okay. There was another argument but I tried the stuff from last night and calmed myself down. I didn’t get involved in the debate or blow up at anyone.”

“I’m glad to hear that Claire. However, I’m sensing a but in there.”

“Mr. Winchester wants my father to call him tonight. He said that the number was on the letter.”

“I see.”

“I don’t think he trusts us much. The students I mean. Probably wants to make sure he’s not going to be stood up or something with excuses made by the student.”

“Or possible have someone else pretend to be the requested parent?”

Claire snorted. “That too. Don’t think he’d expect this level of commitment to a switch.”

Castiel pulled the letter out of his trench coat pocket and grabbed the phone. “I really should not be doing this.”

Not wanting to give response to a statement she knew was true Claire jumped up to sit on the counter and said instead, “Take of your coat uncle Cas, stay awhile.”

Castiel frowned as he dialed Dean Winchester’s number. He did not understand the reference.

****
Dean pulled into his driveway wondering if he had enough light left in the day to do some work on his car. It had started making some odd noises on the way home. He wanted to open her up and find the problem. If it was a simple enough problem or a part he already had Dean could fix it tonight.

The Impala had been a project of his father’s and Dean did his best to keep the car in perfect condition. It was his baby. Dean himself had quite a prowess for machinery. After his accident had stopped him from returning to work Dean returned to school. He was often asked why he hadn’t gone to trade school for mechanics or into engineering. He’d explained each time but he still didn’t think anyone understood his reasoning. Dean didn’t want mechanics to become his work, it was what he used to get away from work when it became too much.

Hauling his few belongings inside Dean decided to eat and get to work on the car. If the daylight failed him he could always use the garage. He just preferred to do his work completely outside when he could. It was more relaxing to him that way.

Since he couldn’t be bothered to cook that night Dean pulled at T.V. dinner out of the freezer and shoved it into the microwave. Smirking Dean imagined what Sammy would say about his choice of dinner. His brother was always on his case to eat healthier.

Dean stared warily at the phone when it started ringing. Slowly he picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hey Dean.”

Naturally. “What’s up Sam?”

“Does something have to be up for me to call my brother?”

“No, but something usually is, so spill.”

For a moment all he could hear was Sam breathing on the other end of the line. Just as he was about to snap out an order to speak Sam cleared his throat.

“I’m going to have to cancel the plans we had. I’m not going to be able to make it down the weekend after next.”

“Damn it Sam! Why the hell not? Bobby’s expecting you to be there; you already skipped out on the last two.”

Bobby Singer was family in all but blood. He’d been their father’s best friend, running two businesses with the ma. With the passing of their parents Bobby had filled in as surrogate father.

“I know and I know it’s short notice but a case just came up. They want me to be apart of it. I can’t miss it.”

“There’s always a case Sam. How the hell do you even know they’ll need you next weekend? This one hasn’t even started yet.”

“Dean this case is huge we need to prepare a lot of information a head of time. The court sessions don’t even start for a couple of more weeks.”

“Hmm and if it’s that huge of a case they’ll have a lot of people. I don’t really thing they’ll miss you for a couple of days. Besides Bobby and I both have access to the tiny little invention called the Internet.”

Sam sighed for the third time. Dean just didn’t get it. “I can’t Dean. This could be the break I’ve been looking for.”

Dean ran a hand across his face and held back a snort. Sam used the ‘big break’ excuse every time he wanted to break a family obligation. Every case he got was a reason to drop everything and focus only on it.

“Whatever man. Call Bobby yourself, I’m not making excuses for you again.”

“I’ll call him as soon as I’m off the phone with you. I really am sorry Dean.”

“I swear we saw more of you when you were halfway across the continent never mind one state over.”

Sam was silent for several moments before Dean heard the tell tale click and rapid beeping of the dial tone. Hanging up the phone Dean sighed. He’d expected Sam to hand up on him but it still hurt. When Sam moved away to school it seemed as if he started cutting them out of his life; it’d gotten worse after graduation. Perhaps the family didn’t meet Sam’s expectation of the American dream. Frankly Dean didn’t give a damn anymore.

He’d call Bobby later to make sure Sam remembered to call and to make sure Bobby knew he’d still be there. Pulling his dinner out of the microwave Dean dug in. He was halfway through when the phone rang again.

Not recognizing the number and having a broken answering machine Dean had no choice but to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hello Dean Winchester please.”

“Speaking.”

“Mr. Winchester this is Jim Novak. My daughter Claire informed me you wished to speak to me prior to tomorrow’s meeting.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Is tomorrow at three not an adequate time?”

“No, it’s fine. I just prefer to hear from the person I’m meeting at least once beforehand.”

“Understandable. Was there anything else?”

“No, Claire can probably show you the classroom if you can’t find it. The school is a little confusing right now. Second floor room 205.”

“Very well, I will speak to you then.” Dean blinked at the phone in surprise when he heard the dial tone; interesting man Jim Novak.

Pushing the cold T.V. dinner further away from himself Dean thought he might as well get started on the car. The engine should have cooled enough by now.

****
Claire chewed on her lip as he uncle spoke to her teacher. She’d been moderately surprised when he made an attempt to smooth out his voice. She hadn’t thought he would try to sound more like her father; her teacher had never met the man. Claire suddenly couldn’t remember if she’d told Castiel that fact.

When Castiel hung up Claire spoke, “I did tell you he hasn’t met dad right?”

“Yes you did.”

“Then why are you trying to sound like him? You don’t have to; he’s never spoken to him.”

“It’s just easier.”

“Okay.” Claire let it go. “What about tomorrow?”

“It’s fine. You are supposed to show me to room 205 at 3 pm.”

“I can totally do that.” Claire jumped off the counter, nervous energy giving her the urge to move about. “I’m going to go for a walk. You need anything?”

“I do not require anything no. However, I shall be making dinner in a couple of hours.”

“Okay, I’ll be back before then so I can help.”

****
As the final class of the day trudged out of the room Dean stifled a yawn. He’d spent the evening fixing the Impala (a loose hose) and giving the car a tune up (to relax from Sam’s call).

After showering Dean had attempted to focus on the marking that was piling up. It’s taken him a large portion of the remaining portion of the night but he’d gotten everything he was supposed to hand back today graded.

He needed coffee. Looking at the clock he figured fifteen minutes was plenty of time to collect one from the staff room and make it back on time for the meeting with Mr. Novak.

Locking his classroom Dean headed towards the stairs closet to the staff room. If he was lucky he would manage to avoid any co-workers that wanted to talk to him.

When it had become known to the staff that Dean was a fairly accomplished mechanic he’d found himself swamped with teachers asking him to take a look at their cars. Dean didn’t mind too much, he could usually get things done for them cheaper than a garage and he enjoyed the work. It was, however, becoming increasingly irritating not being able to go from point A to point B without being stopped along the way.

Luck was on his side today. Dean made it to the staff room un-accosted and the teachers inside to his knowledge didn’t even own cars. Making a beeline for the coffee machine Dean was pleased to see there was enough left to fill his mug. With his mug full Dean replaced the used coffee filter with a fresh one and scooped out enough grounds to make a medium strength pot. Coffee was a teacher’s lifeline; you never left the pot empty.

Besides the last person to leave it empty had ended up glued to both his chair and board brush in the same day. Teachers could be so cruel. Heading out of the room Dean took a sip of the coffee. It tasted like motor oil. Whoever made it last needed lessons in proper coffee preparation.

Along the second floor hallway Dean took another chug from the mug and ended up walking smack dab into someone else. He choked on the mouthful and the rest of the contents in the mug ended up coating whoever he collided with and himself.

“Shit!” On reflex Dean dropped the mug and to focus on the liquid soaking into his shirt. Pulling the fabric away from his skin Dean tried to avoid the scalding liquid. Dean heard a similar exclamation coming from the other person. Looking at who’d he’d walked into for the first time Dean was met with the brightest blue eye’s he’d ever seen. His heart stuttered and his breath caught in his chest. He told himself not to act like a teenaged girl.

The rest of the mystery man wasn’t bad on the eyes either. Dean cringed at the coffee marring the trench coat the man was pulling off. “Sorry, wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“I believe that much was obvious,” the man snapped in a rough tone.

Dean grunted. Rude much?

“But I was also not paying attention. I apologize.”

“Uh…” Stooping down Dean grabbed his mug off the floor, still in one piece. Thank God for plastic.

Facing the man again Dean saw the lost look. “You looking for someone?”

“Yes, room 205. I have a meeting with Mr. Winchester.”

Dear God this was Jimmy Novak. Dean was so screwed. “You’d be Claire’s father then?”

The man stuttered for a moment, “Y-yes James Novak.” He held out a hand.

Dean shook it. “Dean Winchester. Wasn’t Claire going to show you around?”

“Claire required the use of a restroom. I believed I could find the room on my own. I did not expect the room numbers to be so…” Castiel paused, searching for the right word. “Eccentric.”

Dean laughed, “Never heard it put that way before. I like it. The school’s been in the middle of reorganizing the classrooms to go along with the new section for most of the year. As a result some rooms have more then one number, some have none and some numbers have more than one room.”

“I see that is very bothersome.” Castiel wrinkled his nose in distaste. Dean’s subconscious pointed out that it was very cute. Dean told it to shut it.

“Yeah, but you know how it goes. No one listens to the lowly teacher.”

“Indeed. Now, I believe you wished to speak about Claire?”

Dean nodded in agreement. “I wanted to discuss her behaviour in class. Has she made you aware of what has been going on?”

“Recently, yes.”

Dean unlocked the classroom and grabbed a couple of seats from the front row, placing them in front of his desk. Taking his own seat he said, “Have a seat, Mr. Novak.”

“Jimmy, please.”

“Dean, then. We can get started as soon as Claire gets here. I like to include the student in these discussions.”

“An adequate idea. I believe teenagers are more responsive when given a chance to speak for themselves and allowed to be part of a conversation directly related to them.”

“Those were my thoughts.”

Castiel said nothing, clearing his throat. It was difficult to imitate the higher tonal quality of his brother’s voice for an extended period of time.

“I’d offer you a drink but I’m afraid we might wear it again.”

“That’s fine. I think I’ve had enough coffee for one day. Tell more about the class, I’m afraid Claire was rather stingy with those details.”

“Not all that much to tell. The class is about myths and legends throughout the eras. I try to include at least one myth or legend from as many cultures as I can. I discuss the well known ones and the more obscure. We often spend time comparing myths from different cultures. For example almost every culture has a myth about vampires. It’s the finer details that change; the main idea is generally the same. A fear of death and the unknown.”

Castiel watched Dean talk about the class. The man obviously had a great passion for the work. He spoke about it easily and the content look on his face he did warmed him to Castiel. He had to tell himself Claire would not appreciate him hitting on her teacher while pretending to be her father. Nor did he have any indication Dean would appreciate it either.

Dean suddenly stopped talking and his cheeks flushed as he realized the lecture he’d gone off on. Castiel really had to tell himself he couldn’t hit on the man while pretending to be his brother.

“Sorry, I tend to go off on tangents when I get taking about the class. I’ve put a lot of work into making it something the students can find enjoyable and educational.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I find it interesting as well and your level of enthusiasm for the topic shows through a great deal. I find it makes for a good teacher.”

Before Dean was able to reply there was a knock from the doorway. Turning both men found Claire standing just inside the door.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes, please have a seat Claire.” Claire took the empty chair beside Castiel.

“What happened to you guys?”

“I’m afraid I failed to watch where I was going and collided with Mr. Winchester. Unfortunately he was holding a cup of coffee.”

“Oh, that sucks.”

“I wasn’t paying attention either. Now, do you know why I wanted to speak to you and your father Claire?”

“My behaviour in class.”

“Yes, after repeated discussion Claire is among a group of her classmates that insist on disrupting the class. I’d like to discuss why it keeps happening and what will be effective in stopping your part in the disruption.”

Claire didn’t respond right away so Castiel prompted her. “Claire, why don’t you talk about what you discussed with me Wednesday night?”

Claire was unsure but she spoke, “I have a hard time concentrating when the others get into things. When they turn things into a debate it’s hard not to jump, especially when they’re arguing with incorrect information. It makes me angry when they don’t listen and I can’t let it go till they do.”

Dean nodded, “I can understand that. I’ve already taken measures to keep the class on track but I don’t want to ban discussion completely, it encourages learning. Claire, I believe you would have a lot to add to the debates – which I’m going to start from now on – if you could learn to discuss things calmly.”

“I’m sorry about my behaviour. I’ve started to learn some things that I think will help. They did yesterday and today anyway.”

“I did notice that. It’s only vaguely familiar, mediation was it?”

Castiel answered, “Yes, a few relaxation techniques that I have found to be successful in my own life. I thought they might benefit Claire as well. We’ve agreed to try them before other methods.”

“Well, I’ve seen a quick improvement in her behaviour so they appear to be working. Claire what do you think?”

Claire was silent for several minutes while she pondered the question. “I think they are helping, especially with it only being the second day. I mean I still get too caught up in the debates but they make it easier for me to calm down. I’d like to keep using them and learning more. I feel the more I know the more it’ll help.”

Dean blinked. Claire reminded him a lot of Sam. She was very honest in her answers and open to help. He’d been expecting a grudgingly accepted answer that the meditation helped and a reply that she would do it only to stay out of trouble. A willingness to admit wrong actions and to learn and improve pleased him. “I see. I’m glad you feel that way. If you can continue to show improvement I think we can work this out easily enough. I’d like my students to be open to learning and you can’t do that when you’re angry. If you need to leave the room to calm down, please ask. Just remember to come back.”

Claire let out a huff of breath, “You’re the second person to tell me that. I’m not going to skip class. Why does everyone thing I am?”

“You’re a teenager.” Dean kept his face blank.

“Touché.”

Castiel wondered why he was here. He hadn’t said anything. He guessed it was so the parents were kept updated or if the student wasn’t willing to co-operate.

“Because of the previous incidents you will have a weeks worth of detentions.”

“That’s fair.” Claire had been expecting suspension. She’d gladly take the detentions.

Dean looked to Castiel clearly expecting him to add something to the conversation. “That’s satisfactory.”

Claire left to go to the car as soon as they could finish without her. She wanted to be as far away as she could incase he changed his mind and suspended her.

“Is there anything else?”

“No, thank you for coming.”

“Please let me know about Claire’s progress.”

“Sure, no problem. We can meet up again later.” Dean cringed that did not sound professional.

“Perhaps without the coffee this time.”

Dean snorted, “I’ll make an effort to keep it in the mug I promise.”

“I’ll hold you too that.” Both men smiled easily at each other. Eventually the silence became awkward and Castiel left.

When he was gone Dean smacked his head of his desk. The meeting was done and Claire was improving. That was good but he was pretty sure he’d spent most of the time before and after ogling her father. He wasn’t entirely sure he got away with it unnoticed either. He really hated how easily he became attracted to people. Parents were off limits, especially straight and married ones.

Walking out of the school Castiel was having a similar argument with himself. He’d only met the man an hour ago. There was no reason to feel like he should spill everything and jump the man. It didn’t matter that Dean was ridiculously hot there was no chance. Teachers were off limits, especially when they thought you were someone else. It tended to pit a damper on potential relationships.

****
Arriving in the parking lot Dean found Claire and Jimmy Novak staring perplexed at the engine compartment of an old Camaro. Dean tried to tell himself to walk away. Let them figure it out themselves or call car care. However, instead of walking towards the Impala Dean found himself on his way towards the Novaks.

When he was in hearing distance Dean called out, “Car trouble?”

He held in a laugh when Jimmy hit his head off the hood.

Rubbing his head Castiel turned toward the voice and watched Dean comes towards them. “Yes it won’t start. I’ve tried to see what the problem is but frankly I know nothing about cars.”

That much was obvious. “Why don’t you try to start it and I’ll take a look?”

Castiel looked wary so he continued, “Relax I know what I’m doing. I’m the unofficial mechanic of the school. Talk to any of the teachers.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t appear to be convinced but he turned the ignition. Dean leaned over the hood and watched.

After a second failed start he called out, “Okay stop.” From what he could see everything looked fine but he had a hunch.

“Do you have a ratchet?”

Claire dug around the trunk of the car and came back holding a small set. “This is all I could find.” It would do for what he needed.

Disconnecting a spark plug and using the ratchet to pull it out Dean cringed at the gunk on it. “This is the problem. You need new spark plugs. Hard to start the car when the gas can’t catch. I can probably get you started but you need to get these replaced.”

Dean thought about going back to the Impala for a rag when he saw the large coffee stain on his shirt. He used the bottom to clean the plugs one at a time.

“You’ll ruin your shirt.”

“It’s a white shirt. It was pretty much ruined the moment I dumped my coffee.” He replaced the last spark plug.

“That should do it, give it another try.”

The engine caught on the second try.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, just remember to get them replaced.”

“I shall, we should be on our way. Thank you again.”

“Bye. See you next week Claire.”

Claire climbed into the passenger side as Dean shut the hood.
Goodbye Mr. Winchester.”

Dean waited till the Camaro was out of sight before heading to the Impala. Pulling a rag out of the trunk Dean cleaned as much of the engine grease off his hands as he could. Tossing the rag and his shirt into the trunk Dean climbed into the driver’s seat. He wasn’t going to get grease on his baby’s seats.

On the way home Dean thought about the rest of the papers he had to grade and stifled a yawn. It was going to be a long night.

****
Shaking his head Dean called himself a moron. He did this every week, he really should know better by now. It was not wise to go grocery shopping on a Sunday. Not unless you were a people person and not claustrophobic. Dean wasn’t fond of tight spaces and he was certainly not a people person.

Trying not to glare at the screaming children and their parents Dean shoved things into his cart at random. Anything that looked like it would make a decent meal was fair game, especially if it would get him out of the store faster.

Perhaps it was time to shop on a weekday. He was so intent on getting in and out of the store Dean failed to notice the customer stooped down in front of him.

Castiel was frowning at the ingredients on a sauce bottle when the cart rammed into him. Grunting he fell the rest of the way over, sliding over his basket as he did.

“Shit, are you okay?”

At the familiar voice Castiel looked up from the ground. Claire’s teacher stared back at him.

“Mr. Winchester, I do believe we need to stop meeting like this.”

Dean froze as he reached down to help the man up. The first thing he noticed when he was paying attention was a glaringly familiar trench coat. The second was a pair of bright blue eyes.

Pulling the man to his feet Dean rubbed the back of his own neck, “Yeah, well glad to see the coffee came out.”

Brushing himself off Castiel remarked, “I excel at removing unwanted stains.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. That sounded a lot dirtier than it should.

Flashing a smile he said, “I bet you do.” He’d already dumped coffee on the man and run him down with a cart, why not add harassment to the list.

Castiel looked puzzled for all of ten seconds. Then he coloured. “Oh, oh God. I didn’t mean anything like that.”

“You started it.” Dean hadn’t bantered with anyone this easily in ages.

Castiel bent down to retrieve his fallen items. Dean caught the wince as he did so.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a few bruised ribs I think.”

“I didn’t hit you that hard.” Dean ‘s hackles raised.

The look he got from Castiel screamed ‘you moron.’ “From the basket. It caught me in the ribs when I feel. They’re harder than they look.”

“So…” Dean was cut off when a woman and her screaming child pulled up beside them.

“If you’re going to chat do it somewhere else. You’re blocking the aisle.”

Dean raised an eyebrow again. They sure were getting a work out lately. He looked at the woman incredulously as she tapped her overly long nails on the cart and tutted. He noticed she did nothing to calm her screaming child. He really was in retail hell.

Castiel clear his throat. “I believe the words you are looking for are ‘excuse me’. Also your daughter needs to go to the washroom. I suggest you do something to satisfy her.”

He then nodded to Dean and left the aisle. Dean couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he rolled his cart away from the now sputtering woman. Clearly no one had talked back to her before.

Dean found Castiel standing by the alcove that led to the employee’s area.

“Hello Dean.”

“Jimmy man nice going. Did you see her sputtering?” Dean snickered. He was pleased to hear Castiel laugh as well. He quite liked his laugh.

“How’d you know the kid had to go to the bathroom though?”

“Claire used to scream like that when she had to go.”

“Ah.” Dean shuffled uncomfortably at the reminder that he was talking to a student’s father.

Dean opened his mouth intending to excuse himself. “What are you doing later?” Dean blinked rapidly and cursed himself out. Apparently his subconscious was running the show again.

Castiel looked surprised but not entirely displeased with the question. While not unpleased Castiel was having a minor panic attack. He liked Dean certainly but he could not agree to meet up with him under the guise of Jimmy.

“Nothing.” His subconscious was running the show as well.

“How about drinks?”

Castiel’s response was very dry. “As long as it’s not coffee.”

Dean snorted. “How about beer? I know a good bar.”

“Seven?”

“Great see you then.”

After an awkward silence Dean started to walk away. “I should get going before this stuff goes bad.”

He wasn’t far away when he heard Castiel call out. “Dean!”

“Yeah?”

Castiel was smirking. Maybe Dean didn’t like that smile so much after all.

“If I’m going to meet you at the bar you’re going to have to tell me its name.”

Dean felt the head on his cheeks. “Right sorry. It’s Harvelle’s. Do you need directions?”

“Nope, see you later Dean.”

Dean was left standing in the aisle wondering when he became a teenaged girl. In the end he shrugged and kept shopping. At least he was a teenaged girl with a date.

****
By the time six o’clock hit Dean no longer felt so pleased with himself. He paced the floor of the closed bar tugging on his hair as he went.

Ellen, owner and main bartender of Harvelle’s watched him from behind the bar. Putting away the final mug she let out an exasperate sigh.

“Dean not that I’m not happy to see you but is there a reason you showed up an hour early for a date?”

“I’m not early and it’s not a date Ellen. I came to see you.”

“Don’t give me that shit Dean. I’ve known you too long for it to work. If you’d come to see me you wouldn’t be pacing and you certainly wouldn’t be wearing your best clothes.”

Flopping onto a bar stool Dean tried to smooth out his hair. “Sorry Ellen. It is good to see you I’m just…”

“Nervous as shit, gee I couldn’t tell.”

Ellen was another part of his extended family. If Bobby had become a surrogate father, Ellen definitely fit the roll of surrogate mother. Dean couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been there if they needed her. Only thing Dean would like more was if she could be less brutally honest than she was.

“It’s fine Dean really.”

Dean’s head banged off the bar, “What am I even doing Ellen? He’s the father of one of my students. I’m pretty sure there are rules against this sort of thing.”

“Since when have you ever followed the rules? Even when we begged hmmm.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Ellen placed a shot glass in front of him, “Just take it a step at a time.”

With a weak smile Dean down the shot. Maybe it would help calm his nerves. “Thanks.”

“You’re just getting the one, mind you. Don’t need you drunk before your date gets here.”

Grumbling a weak “It’s not a date” Dean got up. Ellen watched as he started pacing again. She didn’t need a hole in her floor damn it. Stalking into the back Ellen turned holding a broom. Placing herself in Dean’s path she thrust it out.

“What?”

“If you can pace you can clean. Start sweeping.”

Dean looked at the broom dubiously he hated sweeping. Then again Ellen didn’t look like she was going to take ‘no’ for an answer. Taking the broom Dean moved to a corner and started sweeping the already clean floor. He hated busy work.

****
Castiel paced his living room tugging on his hair. Why had he agreed to this? This was going end in tears and heartache - he just knew it. After returning to his apartment panic had set in.

He didn’t want to have the date – if that’s really what it was under false pretenses. However, if Castiel told Dean who he was both Claire and he would be in a world of trouble. If he didn’t it would come out eventually and they would be in a world of trouble. It was a no win situation.

Maybe he should cancel the date. Castiel stopped pacing and looked over to the couch. “What do you think?”

Michael stretched and rolled over without ever opening his eyes. Lucifer clawed a couch cushion before jumping off the furniture. He strolled out of the room with nothing but a pitiful meow towards Castiel.

“Thanks for the help,” Castiel said dryly.

Burying his fingers in Michael’s fur Castiel looked over to the clock. There was no going back now; he’d have to leave in a few minutes to arrive at Harvelle’s on time.

Besides he wasn’t sure he had any number for Dean other than the landline. Surely the man had left by now.




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felineferal

December 2011

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