Work Text:
2039
A warm looking couch in a family room, in a suburban home, a fire crackles in the fireplace. Two teenagers - a 14-year old son and a 16-year old daughter are on the couch.
Sitting in front of them is a man who appears to be in his early fifties. He has startling blue eyes and dark brown hair which has crinkles of gray around the corners, he looks stern and worried at the same time. His frown breaks into a smile as he fixes his eyes on his children.
“Okay. You guys are old enough. I think now is the right time to tell you the story of how I met your father.” He says.
“Heard it,” murmurs the boy. He looks distracted, as if he is planning on sprinting away any second.
“You told us already.” Chimes in the daughter.
“Sure, you’ve heard the short version, but there’s a bigger story, and it’s important for you to hear it.”
“Are we being punished for something?” grumbles the son.
“Is this gonna take a while?” questions the daughter.
“Yes.” Says the father. He has an air of finality in this statement, like he doesn’t want any more discussion on the subject.
“Once upon a time, before I was Dad,” he begins. “I had this whole other life.”
Series of photos of 25 year-old Castiel, handsome and optimistic: Castiel hanging out at a bar, Castiel, Castiel in central park, Castiel in his apartment with Sam, his boyish, extremely tall best friend.
“It was way back in 2015. I was single, I had a full head of hair, my career as an architect was taking off, and I lived in New York City with Sam, my best friend from college. Life was good, until one brisk October night, when Sam screwed the whole thing up.”
2015
Imagine a 20-something bachelor apartment that tonight, has been spruced up a bit. Sam, on bent knee, nervously presents Castiel with a diamond ring.
“Will you marry me?” he asks, his eyes wide and hopeful.
Cas pauses and looks at Sam before breaking into a wide grin.
“Perfect! And then she says yes, you’re engaged, you pop the champagne, drink a toast, have sex on the kitchen floor.” Cas’s face scrunches up and he shakes his head no. “Don’t have sex on our kitchen floor.” He continues.
“Got it. Geez, I’m so nervous. My stomach’s going crazy man.”
“It’s not cancer.”
“Who said anything about cancer?”
“You were about to.”
“It could be cancer! I’ve got all these symptoms, I’ve been peeing like crazy, my mouth is dry, she’s gonna say no!” Sam begins to panic, even more so than he had been for the fast half hour. He grins at Cas suddenly and opens his arms wide. “All right, c’mere, bring it in.” he says.
Cas sighs, steps forward to give him a hug. Sort of. Sam hugs him like a normal person, arms around him. Cas on the other hand stands still without moving his arms or hands. At all.
“Dude. What is this even? Afraid that hugging me will bring out your latent gay feelings?” Sam steps away, smirking with a twinkle in his eye. Cas hugs him then, shaking his head in resignation.
He has always had a problem with unnecessary physical contact. As for the gay thing, Cas is not gay. He is bisexual. Though he leans more towards the gay side on the Kinsey scale. That is irrelevant because he has never had any kind of non-platonic feelings for Sam Winchester. Through no fault of Sam, who is for that matter surprisingly good looking and not Cas’s type at all.
Thankfully. Because Cas has enough on his mind without the added burden of an unrequited crush on his totally straight best friend and room-mate.
“Thanks for helping me plan this out, Cas.” Sam smiles.
“It’s you and Jessica! I’ve been there for all the big moments of you and Jess. The night you met, your first date...other first things.” Cas flinches as the memory of Sam and his would- be-fiance having loud, crazy sex casually strolls into his head.
“I’m sorry. We thought you were asleep.” His best friend protests, running his hands sheepishly through his overly long, overly messy brown hair.
“It’s physics, Sam. If the bottom bunk moves, the top bunk moves too. But that was nine years ago, the nightmares have almost stopped. And you’re getting engaged. Tonight.”
“Yeah. What are you doing tonight?”
What was I doing? Here Sam was taking the biggest step of his life, and me? I’m calling up your uncle Gabriel.
“Hey, so you know how I’ve always had a thing for Lebanese girls? Well, I have a new favorite: Indian girls. Indian girls are the new Lebanese. Trust me. They’re India-licious.” says Gabriel over the phone.
“Listen, Sam’s getting engaged here tonight. You wanna…” begins Cas.
“Meet me at the Roadhouse in fifteen. And bring me some candy!” bellows Gabe before he starts to hang up.
“No, no candy Gabe. Unless you want early onset diabetes. You eat that crap all the time.”
“Crap. What are you talking about? Candy is my religion. Are you insulting my religion? Friendship over! Gummy worms or I’m not coming.”
“Fine, I’ll bring them.” Sighs Cas, willing to do anything to get out of Sam’s hair in time for his proposal.
The Roadhouse
“Where’s the candy? And by the way what are you wearing? I thought gay guys had a fashion sense. I show up looking awesome and you show up in your pajamas? Fine. I’m Superman, you’re Clark Kent.”
“Wait, doesn’t Clark Kent always wear a suit? And doesn’t Superman kinda wear pajamas?” reasons Cas.
“Ooh, check out those two guys over at the bar arguing about Superman. God. That gets me hot!” starts Gabe in an annoying falsetto voice. “Come on, Cas. Pull yourself together. Don’t wanna look weird.”
“You know what’s weird? I just spent all day planning this romantic marriage proposal...and it’s for someone else.”
“Oh, I see. Sam gets engaged, and all of a sudden your ovaries are shrinking. Have you forgotten the first rule I ever taught you?” scoffs Gabe.
“Yeah, yeah don’t even think about getting married till you’re 30. I’m not thinking about it. Just ‘cuz my best friend’s getting married doesn’t mean I have to.”
“I thought I’m your best friend. Cas, say I’m your best friend.” Snarls Gabe.
“You’re my best friend, Gabriel”
“Good. Then as your best friend, I suggest we play a little game I call, Have Ya Met Cas?”
“What? No, we’re not playing “Have Ya Met Cas?”
Too late. Gabriel taps an exotic, sexy girl on the shoulder.
“Hi. Have ya met Cas?”
Gabriel walks away, leaving Cas alone with the girl. Cas smiles, sticks out his hand.”
“Hi, I’m Cas.”
“Kali.”
“That’s a very pretty name.”
“Thanks. It’s Indian.”
Cas smiles to himself.
Too bad for Gabe.
The Apartment
In the apartment, the table’s set, and cooking is underway. Sam’s trying to light many candles with one dwindling match.
“Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow ow!”
The front door opens. Jess - earthy, strong, maternal enters. She has long, flowing blonde hair and sparky blue green eyes.
“I’ve had a long day, my eyes could be playing tricks on me - but it almost looks like you’re cooking.” Questions Jess.
“I am. You’ve been taking care of hyper-active kindergartners all day. So now I’m taking care of you.”
“Oh, you’re the best. It was finger- painting day.” She opens her coat to reveal a nice blouse covered in finger-paint. There is a clear handprint on her chest. “And a five-year old, got to second base with me. God. Need to shower.”
“You go ahead. I’ll propose the. Uh. Prepare the feast.” Stutters Sam as Jess leaves the kitchen.
The Roadhouse
“Here’s how it breaks down: I’m 25 now. I’ll make partner at my architecture firm by 30, so that’s when I’ll start looking. It’ll take two years to meet him or her, that’s 32. We date for a year, and at 33, I propose. Then you need a year to book a room and a decent band. That puts me married at 34. So, yeah, marriage is the furthest thing from my mind right now.” Cas is saying to Kali.
“Really? Because it’s all you’ve talked about for the past ten minutes.” Quips Kali.
“That’s not true. I also mentioned I’m a successful architect. You caught that, right?” says Cas. Kali is a chef at an Indian restaurant downtown and so far, seems amazing. He isn’t blind, and does wanna impress her.
“Yes. But I don’t think you can design your life like it’s some building. What if you meet someone who wants to start a family right away? You haven’t planned when you’re going to have kids, have you?”
“One when I’m 36, one when I’m 39. A girl and a boy.” Answers Cas immediately at which Kali lets out a beautiful laugh.
The Apartment
Sam has already burnt the zucchini bread and spilled the mustard all over, called it quits and handed the pan to Jess.
Jess, frustrated, cooks frantically over the stove, while Sam hovers nearby, not cooking. “This is great, cooking together, as a couple.”
Jess shoots him a look.
“Ooh! Almost forgot!” He opens the fridge, grabs a bottle of champagne.
“Oh, honey, champagne!” Jess seems mollified but begins to frown as Sam holds out the bottle to her.
“No. Nuh-uh. I’m standing here, cooking your romantic dinner for me, no, you’re opening that bottle yourself.”
He gives her his patented puppy dog eyes. Jess is not deterred.
“Sam, you’re too old to be scared to open a champagne bottle.” Scolds Jess.
“I’m not scared.”
“Then open it!”
“Fine. Please open it.”
“Dammit, Sam!”
They continue to argue.
In life, there are two big, gutsy questions a man has to ask. One’s usually sweet and romantic, and the other usually comes half-drunk in some bar. But they’re equally important.
The Apartment
Sam whips out the ring.
“Will you marry me?”
Jess screams. “Yes!!”
She jumps on Sam. They fall to the floor.
The Roadhouse
“You wanna go out sometime?” says Cas to Kali.
“Sorry. Ash’s my boyfriend” she says. Pointing to the man behind the bar.
The Apartment
The room looks empty. Then Sam sits up, shirtless, hair mussed up, grinning like an idiot.
“I promised Cas we wouldn’t do that.” Snickers Sam.
“Champagne?”
“Allow me, Mademoiselle.”
He gets up, and picks up the bottle.
“I don’t know why I was so scared of this. It’s really pretty easy, right?
Jess starts to get up, as Sam fiddles with the bottle. He absentmindedly aims it at Jess. Pop! It hits Jess.
“Owww!”
The Roadhouse
“What are you thinking, hitting on the Ash’s girlfriend?!” sneers Gabe. “The guy will dig up enough dirt on his laptop to exile you from New York for good.”
“I bet Sam and Jess will start having kids soon.” Remarks Cas. Oblivious to Gabe’s scolding.
“Oh God, we’re back on this...”
“I always figured our kids would play together. But now Sam’s pulling ahead. My kids’ll be playing Candyland while Sam junior’s out on the porch sneaking cigarettes.”
“Okay, lesson number - God, what are we up to? 749 or 750. We’ll round up. Lesson 750: Shut up! You’re too young to get married!”
“I’m six days older than Sam.”
“Sam’s from Lawrence. Kansas! 25 year olds in Kansas have grandkids. In New York, there’s a bar on every corner. In New York, you’re too young.”
“You’re right. And there’s one other big difference between me and Sam: he’s found the love of his life. Even if I was ready, it’s like, okay, I’m ready! Where is she? Or even he?”
Cas pretends to look around...but then actually sees something that stops him cold.
And there he was.
The guy – with sandy blonde hair, amazing build and glassy fern green eyes looks back at Cas. He is stupefied, his feet frozen to the ground.
It was like something from an old movie, where the sailor sees someone across the crowded dance floor, and he turns to his buddy and says, “See that guy? I’m gonna marry him someday.”
“Hey Gabe, see that guy?”
“Oh yeah, check out that ass! That is some Grade-A meat. Go say hi.”
Cas begins to panic and hyperventilate.
“I can’t just go say hi. No, here’s the plan: I’ll wait till he goes to the bathroom, then strategically place myself so that…”
Behind Cas, Dean passes by. Gabe taps his shoulder.
“Have ya met Cas?” says Gabe and walks away, leaving Cas alone with Dean.
“Hi, I’m Dean.” Says the guy.
Dean shakes his hand.
“C…Cas.” Stammers Cas.
“So I hear.” Grins Dean.
The Roadhouse
(35 minutes in)
“It is nothing big, the clients are generally assholes. Last week we had this jerk – Fergus Crowley. Total dirt bag, told me I could have his restored Camaro if I slept with him. Could’a kicked his ass but Bobby has his ‘no punching the daylights outta the clients’ rule.”
“Have dinner with me Saturday night.” Broke in Cas abruptly.
“Shit. I can’t, we’re all going to Bermuda for an auto show. It is for a week. We leave Friday.”
“Well, I know it’s a long-shot, but how about tomorrow night?”
“What the hell. You are effing hot, I’m up for it.”
Cas types Dean’s number in his Cell phone, a little red faced from all the flirting.
The Next Night
The Bistro
Dean and Cas sit at the table. On the wall above them is a long, thin, glass bottle filled with silver, shimmery stuff.
So the next night, I took him out to dinner at this cute little bistro, where we sat under this piece of modern art.
“That is a bad-ass looking… whatever it is. I gotta get something like that to hang over my fireplace.”
“Kinda looks like a penis with angel semen.” Snickers Cas.
Kids, a piece of advice. When you go on a first date, you don’t want to say “Angel semen.” Kinda messes up your chances with most guys.
Dean cracks up. Cas laughs too.
But this was no ordinary guy.
The Apartment
Jessica who is now wearing an eye patch, is reading a wedding magazine on the couch while Sam’s on the internet. After a while, she turns to Sam and asks, “What kind of wedding cake would you prefer: Chocolate Layer or Tahitian Vanilla?”
“I have diabetes!” growls Sam, not looking up from the laptop.
“So...something sugar free?”
“Listen to this: Diabetes. Symptoms include: Nausea. Check. Dry mouth. Got it. Increased urination. Like a fire hose.” Sam starts. “Loss of sheen on coat. Less playful, doesn’t want to go on walks.” He stops. Confused.
Jess goes over to the computer and checks out the screen. She lets out an exasperated little puff of breath. “This is a canine medical website.”
“But I have all the symptoms. I never go on walks anymore!” mutters Sam.
“You don’t have doggie diabetes.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Sam, every time we disagree on something, you say “Yeah, you’re right.” You’re in law school. How are you ever gonna win a case if your only argument is “Yeah, you’re right”?” scolds Jess.
“Okay. I do have doggie diabetes.”
“No you don’t.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Dammit, Sam.”
Cas enters, sees Jess’s new eye patch. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting an Arrrr-gument?” he says, smiling wide.
“Oh, that’s clever. ‘Cuz I’m a pirate. But wait, you never make jokes. God, Cas are you okay? Wait. Now I get it, how was your big date? I bet it was good. Wasn’t it?” questions Jess.
“I’ve met the future Mr. Castiel Novak. He’s perfect. Sam, how have I always described my perfect man?”
“He loves cars?”
“He works in this big vintage auto restoration company.”
“That’s an easy one. Dig deeper.”
“He can quote obscure lines from Slaughterhouse Five.
He has green eyes.
He is over six feet. Taller than me.
He isn’t pretentious and drinks beer – even on dates.”
“Wow, Cas, did you, like, go back to the eighties and hire some nerds to build this guy with their computer?” says Sam, surprised.
“Wait. I’m saving the best for last. He loves pie!”
“Oh. The Cake-Pie theory.” Simpers Jess as she leans on Sam’s arm.
Flashback to the Date
Dean and Castiel are sitting at the table going through the desert menu. Cas says something about ordering cake when Dean huffs and tells him that pie is much more awesome.
“People either love cake or they love pie, right? Very few undecideds out there. So I have this theory, inspired by my friends Jess and Sam. Here’s the spooky thing I’ve observed: in every great relationship, there’s a cake lover and a pie lover. It’s like positive and negative ions. Perfect symbiosis.” Explains Cas to Dean, who nods in understanding.
“Ya know, I’ve had an entire chocolate fudge cake just sitting in my fridge forever. House warming present.” Says Dean slyly.
“I could take it off your hands.” Whispers Cas.
“Its all yours.” Smirks Dean. With his green eyes glinting, he looks like the devil himself. Cas catches his breath he didn’t know he had been holding.
The Apartment
“Aw yeahhhh baby! It is so on.” Yells Sam, punching the air. “Wait, it’s only 10:45. What happened?”
“Well, I had the whole thing planned out. Dinner, a walk back to his apartment through the park, you know, to set up the goodnight kiss...”
Flashback to the date
“I gotta get me one of those angel semen bottles.”
Cas laughs. “Seriously? I didn’t peg you for the artistic type.”
“Just wanna freak people out.” Moving closer to Cas.
“I had a really nice time tonight.” Breathes Cas.
“Me, too.” Dean is completely in Cas’s personal space now and he is loving it. He tilts his head forward as Dean’s phone begins to ring.
“Crap. It is from work. I gotta take this. Bobby knows I’m on a date, he wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
“It’s fine. Take it.”
Cas stands nervously as Dean grunts a series of yeses into his cell.
“Crap. Crowley is that the shop with these scary-ass guys. Bobby needs back up. I gotta go.”
Dean lingers for a minute, Cas steps back. “Uh. Okay. Goodnight then.” He turns and runs off.
The Apartment
“Yeah, yeah. I should’ve kissed him. I chickened out. Well, I guess I’ll just...see him when he gets back from Bermuda.” Whispers Cas sadly.
“Bermuda? Yeah, he’s gonna hook up in Bermuda. You’re never gonna see him again.” Says Gabe who has somehow entered the apartment while Cas was telling the story and stationed himself on the couch with a bag of gummy worms.
“Well then, I’m gonna go kiss him goodnight. Right now.”
“Okay, let’s not do anything crazy Cassie boy.”
“I never do anything crazy! I’m always waiting for the moment, planning the moment - maybe this is the moment.” Shouts Cas, standing up. His three friends stare at him.
“So, what do you think?” questions Cas.
“Do it.” all of them yell in unison. “We are coming with you.” Says Jess.
“What??”
“Yeah. We wanna see history in making.”
“I am just bored. And so I am coming.” Laughs Gabe. “So get moving bro!”
“I will. You guys get a cab. But, before we go to his house, there is somewhere I need to stop first.”
The Bistro
The same restaurant bistro from the date. A few straggling diners finish their dessert. Two waiters talk.
“Go! Go! Go! Flowers are so cliché.” Yells Gabriel as Cas pulls off the Angel Semen bottle and runs towards the cab.
Dean’s Apartment
So we pulled up in front of his place with a restaurant’s stolen property.
Cas gets out of the cab. He looks at bit green and flustered.
“Cas, hang on! So should we wait here?” says Sam. “What if you, uh...”
“Please don’t leave us out here all night.” Pleads Jess.
“If it’s going well, I’ll call your cellphone and let it ring once. And you guys can take off.”
“Sam, remember this night. When you’re the best man at our wedding, and you give a speech...you’re gonna tell this story.” Says Cas as he adjusts his hair in the cab window and leaves.
“Why does he get to be the best man?! I’m your best friend!” shouts Gabe at Cas’s back.
He rings the bells and Dean opens up. His hair are all over the place. He is wearing pajamas and a faded Led Zepplin T-shirt. His feet are bare, he looks pleased and confused and looks at Cas questioningly.
“Hi. I was just, uh...” stutters Cas. He hadn’t expected to find the sexy playboyish Dean looking so adorably rumpled. It seemed like a vision straight out of a wet dream. He holds up the stolen angel semen with an awkward grin. Dean looks at it, and looks at him. Without batting an eye he says, “Come on in.”
Cas goes inside.
In The Cab
They watch him go in. Gabe looks at the nametag of the cab driver. It reads “Ajay Singh.”
“Hey, Ajay. Where you from? India?”
“Bangladesh.”
“That’s too bad. Indian girls, Ajay. Indian girls.”
“Okay, I already can’t take this anymore. I’m gonna go see if that bodega has a bathroom, I gotta pee.” Jess says as she starts getting out.
“Shouldn’t I come with you?” asks Sam.
“No.”
“Then stay.” Jess says, as if to a puppy. “Stay.”
The apartment is stylish and neat. Dean hangs Cas’s gift over the fireplace, then steps back next to him to assess it.
“That looks...just terrible.” Snickers Cas.
“Heinous. So, Cas, what brings you to Brooklyn at one in the morning?” asks Dean.
“You know, our night ended so abruptly. And ever since I’ve been kicking myself, because I really wanted to...get that cake from you.”
“Well… Seems unfair not to give it to ya. Did promise. I’ll go get it.”
“This is good, this is good...” mutters Cas as he whips out his phone and starts to dial.
“One drink, then I’m kicking you out.” Says Dean from the kitchen. Cas puts his phone back.
“Although the subway may be closed.”
He whips out the phone again.
“But there’s a car service that runs all night.” Cas places his phone on the table, now completely befuddled. Damn mixed signals.
Dean returns with the cake and two beers, turns on the stereo, and starts swaying back and forth.
“You wanna dance?” he asks.
“One second.” Says Cas as he starts to dial his phone. Dean takes it, tosses it on the couch.
“Um, it can wait.” Mumbles Cas, standing up.
The Cab
“So Sam. You hate pies. Jess loves them...but you can’t stand ‘em.” Questions Gabe.
“Yeah, I’ve never cared for pie.” Gulps Sam.
“That’s interesting. Two weeks ago, at that restaurant, I seem to recall a rhubarb and strawberry pie. And I also seem to recall...you had a slice.” Chortles Gabe, his normally pleasing features contorting into a wicked grin.
“Did I?”
“Cut the crap, Sam! You like pies.”
Sam makes sure Jess’s gone, then takes a deep breath. “I like pie. Me and my brother used to eat them all the time. He was completely crazy about them.” He begins. “But, on our second date, Jess and I went to this bistro, and I ordered a slice of cake and pie for each of us. She takes my pie slice, ‘cuz she loves pie, and she asked if I minded, and I said, “No, I hate pies.” Then based on that, Cas came up with his whole pie theory, so I played along. For nine years.” Reveals Sam.
“Wait. You have a brother. Yeah, but whatever. We haven’t talked in ages. He keeps emailing me everything but we kinda had a falling out. I don’t even know where he lives now. Drop it.”
“Fine. But Sam, I’m gonna give you an early wedding present - don’t get married.”
Dean’s Apartment
Cas and Dean dance. It’s getting pretty intimate.
“You didn’t eat your cake. Open up.” Says Dean moving closer, he takes a piece and feeds it to Cas. “You know, I think I like your theory.” Dean winks at him.
“I think I like your apartment.” Says Cas.
“I think I like your eyes.” Says Dean.
“I think I like your nose.” Says Cas.
“I think I like your hair.” Says Dean.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
“What?!” yells Dean stepping away. He looks horrified.
15 minutes later
Dean and Cas sit side by side on the couch. Cas looks miserable, Dean looks irritated.
“Wow.” Sighs Cas.
“Yeah.”
“I really said that.”
“You really did, man. What the hell?”
“Maybe a little too soon for that.”
“Maybe a wee bit.” Offers Dean.
The Cab
Sam and Gabe continue their conversation.
“Ajay, back me up! He needs to lose this woman!”
“I think they seem nice.”
“Look, you said your stomach’s been hurting, right? Ya know what that is?”
“Canine diabetes?”
“It’s hunger. You’re hungry, Sam. Hungry for experience. Hungry for something new. Hungry...for pie. But you’re too scared to do anything about it.”
“Yeah. You’re right. I’m scared. I’m scared of everything: cancer, champagne corks, Katie Couric. But when I think of spending the rest of my life with Jess - committing, forever, no other women - that doesn’t scare me at all. It’s the best and least-scary thing I can possibly imagine. I’m getting married.”
He looks away to see Jess now standing by the open window, having heard this. She leans in to kiss Sam. He stops her.
“Jess...I like pies.”
“We’ll make it work.”
She kisses him passionately. Sam stops her saying, “There’s something we have to do.”
“Ajay, do not let these two bang in your cab.” Grumbles Gabe.
“I’ll be right back. Stay!” Sam tells Jess.
Dean’s Apartment
Cas and Dean are still sitting on the couch.
“You were about to kiss me!” breathes Cas.
“I know!”
“And I was gonna kiss you back. Probably drag you into your own bedroom. You were gonna get some!”
“Really? ‘Cuz, okay, cards on the table: I just wanted sex. Cheap meaningless sex. I was never even gonna call you afterwards.” Says Dean. Cas begins to hurt, he doesn’t say anything and tries to pretend.
“Now you’re just telling me what I want to hear.” He begins. “I’m sorry. I’m not always like this. It’s just, my best friend got engaged and I went a little crazy. And then I meet you, and you’re so amazing...”
“You’ve only known me one night.” Dean points out.
“So? And believe me, I’ve abandoned all hope, we’re just talking here. But do you really think there’s no such thing as love at first sight?”
“Not in 2015. And definitely not in New York. Cas, I like being single. When I need stable companionship, I’ve got my baby – My Impala. I don’t need a boyfriend.”
“God, why do those words make me wanna be your boyfriend so badly?”
“The universe hates you?” suggests Dean.
In front of Dean’s apartment
Jess waits on the steps. Sam appears, holding a bottle of champagne. “Champagne! From the rolling hills of New Jersey.” He announces.
“Oh, honey, can we afford that?”
“Step aside, little lady, and watch as I pop this...” starts Sam. “Twist-off cap. Hmm. Kinda takes the danger out of it.”
“Wait.” Says Jess as she covers her eyes. “Okay, do it.”
Sam unscrews the cap. Pop. It opens.
“I love you, sweetie.” He pours two glasses.
“I love you too.”
They’re just about to clink glasses when a cop appears. “Good evening. Wanna take that inside?” he offers.
“Oh. We don’t live here. See, we just got engaged…”
“Congratulations. You can’t drink on the sidewalk. Either dispose of the bottle, or go inside.” Demands the officer.
“Okay, Ajay, time to go.” Says Gabe.
The cab pulls off.
“Son of a bitch!” yells Sam. “Damn that Gabriel!”
“Look, we just got engaged. We’re having this toast.” Jess looks at his badge. “Officer Rufus. Although you’re still a hero, and we appreciate everything you’ve done for this city.”
“Did he hit you?” the officer questions.
“Ha!” laughs Jess incredulously.
“Give me the bottle, sir.”
“Give him the bottle, Sam.” Jess breaks in.
“No!”
“You’re saying no to me?” Jess begins. “I can’t believe he’s saying no to me.”
“See? I can be assertive. I’m gonna be a great lawyer.” Beams Sam.
“You’re gonna need one, asshole!” The cop grabs Sam and cuffs him roughly.
Dean’s Apartment
Cas and dean stand at the door, saying good night.
“Well, have a great trip. Oh, and when you tell this story to your friends, could you avoid the word ‘psycho.’ I’d prefer ‘eccentric’.”
“Noted.”
“How do I get to the F train?”
“Two blocks that way, take a right.”
“Dean, I figured something out tonight. I’m sick of being single. I’m not cut out for it. It’s like some suit that doesn’t quite fit me. But if someone - not you, just some hypothetical person - were to bear with me through all this stuff I clearly suck at, I think I’d make a damn good husband. Because that’s the stuff I’d be good at. Stuff like being supportive. And making him laugh. And being a good father. And being a good kisser.”
“Everyone thinks they’re a good kisser.” Laughs Dean.
“Oh, I’ve got references.” Braggs Cas, feeling oddly confident all of a sudden.
“I’m sure you do.”
“Good night, Dean.”
Cas extends his hand. Dean shakes it. They smile at each other. The handshake lingers a beat.
Later at the Roadhouse
“And that was it. I’ll probably never see him again.” Whines Cas. All of them are extremely drunk after multiple rounds of drinks.
“God, I’m starving.” Groans Jess as the waitress brings their pie, she starts devouring the pie. Sam joins in.
“You’re eating pie?” slurs Cas, confused.
“Oh, yeah, your pie theory? Load of crap.” Sam picks up the bottle of champagne Gabe bought for them to make up for leaving them. “All right, let’s do this.”
“To the future.” He says.
But that’s the funny thing about destiny: it happens whether you plan it or not. I mean, I thought I’d never see that guy again. But it turns out I was just too close to the puzzle to see the picture that was forming.
Like I said, it’s a long story.