Chapter Text
Dean couldn't believe this shit. It was a hunt, just a basic hunt with some supernatural death and questioning a suspicious family. How the hell did he turn up here?
First off, what did this chick think she was doing? Dean had given her his best smile and flirted as smooth as they come, trying to get some info from the suspicious and, quite frankly, gorgeous woman. She was the victim’s sister, young and rich and with no motive to murder her distant sister, who she hadn't even talked to in years. Not a bitter or angry silence, a mutual separation from the heiress and her family. Her parents owned a large portion of Lake Michigan and made craploads of money off of shrimping company or something named Encante. This lady clearly hadn't fallen far from the wealth tree, her house almost qualifying as a castle. She seemed innocent enough, and albeit the overpriced sunglasses and an obnoxious floppy pink sunhat, she had a warm smile and charming Brazilian accent that just made her seem trustworthy.
But she knew something, Dean could feel it. She had information about the wealthy family, info Dean knew he couldn’t get out of the old stiffs with their butler and fancy ass car collection (which Dean was not at all jealous over at all), and was crucial to the hunt.
So, easy, right? Dean flashes a smile, compliments her eyes, gets the info. Of course, this lady turns out gorgeous AND smart, so it wasn’t that easy.
“I’m too booked for questioning right now, boys,” she had said, surveying the two and a half hunters,”But I’ll be free Friday night if one of you wants to accompany me.”
“Where to?” Dean asked, only mildly annoyed by the lengthening of the case.
“A ball. Well, not really, but one of those formal snooty dances my dad throws. I need a date.”
“Alright, time and place.” Dean had smiled as she took a scrap of paper and wrote something on it.
“Okay then,” she smiled flirtatiously. But then the weird thing happened. The woman’s eyes skirted over Dean and his brightest green eyes and moved their way towards Cas. Cas, and angel-turned-human dork with the trench coat and backward tie.
She smiled big and looked him over, sliding the folded paper into his shirt pocket. Dean felt something flare in his gut he quickly identified as jealousy. But, why? No like seriously why did Dean care that this stranger picked his friend over Dean to go to some stupid dance?
Dean didn’t need to look at Sam to know his jerk little brother was smirking at him.
“You free Friday, tall dark and handsome?” she said quietly to Cas.
The sight might of made Dean laugh, if he didn’t have that unsettled feeling. The former angel was standing perfectly still, blue eyes glancing nervously around the room before sputtering, “I-…I believe so…”
“Good.”
And just like that she was walking off into her house, heels echoing off the tile floor as she disappeared around a corner. Sam clapped a hand on Cas’s back before making his way back to the impala.
Castiel turned to Dean with a questioning look, “What just happened?”
Dean pushed down the ridiculous feeling that bubbled within him, “You got a date, buddy.”
~~
Soon they were all in the bunker, books stacked up around them, researching like madmen. Sam was absorbed in some lore on special werewolves or something, feverishly scanning each page. Dean had just finished another useless book and sat back in his chair, noticing Cas sitting across from him, scowling.
“What’s up, Cas?”
He seemed to think for a moment, “How does one.. Dance. With a partner, I mean.”
Silence.
“Oh shit,” the mumble came from Sam, who apparently had broke his concentration to hear what’s up.
“Oh shit,” the younger Winchester repeated, running his hand over his face and smiling.
“What’s so funny?” Dean asked.
“Well, one of us here is gunna have to teach him, unless you wanna drive him to a dance studio in town,” he was grinning, but Dean didn’t know quite why.
“Then you teach him, if you thinks it’s so funny.”
“Dude, he going with a girl, a short girl. Need I elaborate?”
Dean saw his point, and it was only then that the panic settled in.
“Wait,” he sat up in his chair, “You mean I…”
His gaze transferred from his brother to Cas, who through the whole thing had sat there silently, analyzing the situation.
“Son of a bitch.”