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Rachel looked away from the TV. Football games lost their appeal when her team was down 48-10. It was hard to believe that if they could just get this drive to end up with points, then maybe, by God, they just might have a chance. Besides, it was pre-season anyway. Who cared about preseason scores? Half the people on the field at the moment wouldn’t be on the team next week.
Besides, there was something interesting happening below her window. She only recognized one of the three men there, but that was hardly a surprise. After all, the only reason she recognized her fiancé was that her father had shown her a picture of him. The other two were arriving with him, so were probably friends he had brought to be at his side at the wedding. The ridiculous wedding she’d been given no say in, even in matters that really ought to have been her call, like her dress or her bouquet or how she had her hair styled.
Seeing the groom before the wedding was supposed to be bad luck, which was why Rachel had been allowed to sequester herself in her room with her friends to watch the football game while they did her hair and makeup and made sure she didn’t run away. To say Rachel didn’t care was inaccurate – she cared very much. She wanted nothing more than to have some kind of bad luck interrupt the wedding so she wouldn’t have to marry a complete stranger just because he was the son of one of Daddy’s business associates.
A hint of what the bad luck might be came when the three men outside stopped. Her fiancé was the first, followed quickly by the other two. Castiel didn’t seem to be any more eager to marry Rachel than she was to marry him. The taller of his companions turned around. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but just the way they looked at each other had Rachel growing suspicious that her husband-to-be had good reason not to want to marry her. That suspicion grew when the tall man reached out and very gently straightened Castiel’s tie, letting his hands linger on Castiel’s chest as he smoothed it down. If the two of them weren’t in love, Rachel would burn her English degree.
As she watched, the other one turned around, looking vaguely upward, and Rachel’s breath caught. Even from a floor up, through a window… his eyes were stunning. On the whole, all three of the men below were very attractive, but this one… she wished there were a way to get a signal to them to have him pretend to be Castiel. It would never work, Michael Charlson knew his own son, but it was certainly an entertaining fantasy she could engage in. In her fantasies, at least, she was free to do whatever she wanted, not have to follow her father’s wishes if she didn’t want to end up homeless and renounced by all her friends. Her fantasies had always been her secret haven, her place to let out all the romantic longing her father had taught her from the time she could speak to keep to herself. Her friends saw her as the cold, calculating warrior, the leader who could make tough calls without trouble, the kind of woman who chose a husband on the basis of politics or business rather than love. Without them, she would likely end up burning out. As it was, she could feel herself getting a little crispy around the edges with having to keep it all inside, and marrying Castiel was not going to help.
Her fantasies had just gotten to a very interesting place, Stunning Green Eyes running after her as Rachel fled the wedding into the pouring rain, catching up and planting a kiss on her without needing to waste any time on words, when there was a knock on the door. She sighed as Hannah cracked it open. “It’s time, Rachel. Come meet your beloved husband-to-be.”
“Yes, Daddy.” Rachel quickly checked the score – surprise, surprise, the drive had indeed been an exercise in futility, much like her hopes of escape. She grabbed her flowers and headed out to meet her doom.
At least it was a handsome doom. “Hello. I’m Rachel Adler.”
Castiel reached out, taking her offered hand with both of his. “Castiel Winchester.”
Rachel was not the only one to gasp in shock. Surely Michael’s son would share his surname, and he should be Castiel Charlson? Michael’s confusion was easy to understand. The rage, less so. “Winchester, son? What the f… what on Earth are you playing at here?”
“Nothing, Father.” Castiel turned to his beloved. “Sam?”
Sam pulled a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket of his suit and handed it to Michael. “He’s not playing at anything, Mr. Charlson. As you can see, his name is in fact Winchester now.”
Michael had gone several interesting shades of purple. Rachel considered taking the paper, but decided to demand her own answers. “What’s going on, Castiel? Why the name change?”
“I apologize for the way you’re finding out about this, Rachel. I am truly sorry that my father refused to see the signs or listen to me when I tried to tell him this wedding would be pointless.” Castiel reached out and took Sam’s hand. “Please allow me to introduce Sam Winchester. As of eleven o’clock this morning, my husband.”
“Excuse me, how can he be your husband, I never consented to the marriage,” Michael snapped.
Castiel’s eyeroll was something Rachel decided she needed to learn to emulate as soon as possible. There was no better way to show how done Castiel was with this argument. “I’m twenty-three, Father. I don’t need parental consent to marry. It’s not my fault that you refuse to believe that my homosexuality is a fundamental part of my identity rather than a phase. It’s not my fault that when I said I was returning to Lawrence to be with Sam, you didn’t accept my meaning of the word ‘together’, even when I told you not to bother evicting the tenant occupying what was meant to be my house because I would be living with the Winchesters.” He turned to Rachel. “I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you in advance, but Father only deemed it necessary for me to know of his planned wedding last night.”
And here Rachel had though she had it bad. Daddy didn’t listen to her much either, but if she’d had the courage to tell him about a lover and gotten brushed off this thoroughly, she couldn’t imagine what she’d have done. “No apologies are necessary, Castiel. Congratulations on your marriage, and I wish you and Sam a long and happy life together.”
“Rachel, honey,” Daddy interrupted, patting her back. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out, but we’ll find someone. A shame Michael doesn’t have any other sons, but I’m sure we can…”
“No.” Rachel surprised herself with her own boldness… but then again, Castiel and Sam looked so happy together. Why shouldn’t Rachel try for her own version of that happiness? Her initial move might not work out, but she’d spent the last week trying to come to terms with her situation and failing to completely accept it. She would not let anyone dissuade her, not even herself. “We tried this your way, Daddy. My turn to try things.”
“Rachel, darling…”
“No,” she repeated. Steeling herself, she walked over to Dean, who had retreated to a corner to stuff his face with the hors d’oeuvres once he was sure Michael’s reaction wouldn’t be violent. “Dean, right? I’m guessing you’re Sam’s brother?”
“That’s right,” Dean confirmed through a mouthful of crackers and cheese, head tilting curiously. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m sure your brother and his husband would like to get going on their honeymoon, or at least, their wedding night.” She delicately sidestepped the crumbs that spat out of Dean’s mouth. “If you can wait long enough for me to get out of this gown and into something appropriate, I’d like to go find a bar to watch some football, drink some beer, and get to know you better.”