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1911 Morfter lane sat nestled in a lush, tree filled neighborhood nearly as old as the country itself. The windows contained their original water-floated glass panes and the brickwork, though worn, still held up to the test of time. Over time, many of the houses in this neighborhood had been demolished and replaced with more modern homes but the ivy-covered, two story colonial had held its ground.
Dean *almost* felt bad that he was contributing to shattering the idyllic evening quiet of the tree filled neighborhood with the growl of his Impala. To be fair, he wasn’t the only culprit. As he pulled up to the house, he surveyed the hustle and bustle of the tv crew, unloading equipment from the two vans parked directly in front of the driveway. Old homes are good for two types of entertainment: renovation shows and ghost hunting shows. How Dean got pulled into the latter, he’ll never know.
Dean gave a short wave as he passed by, heading for the next available spot on the curb. He had to go a decent way down the street seeing as Garth, Charlie, and Cas were already parked, their cars sitting empty in front of some mid-century rambler. He wasn’t late per se, he just didn’t have quite the same level of enthusiasm for all this like the other three did. The fact that Cas had been called in for this episode likely tipped the other off that this was going to be an interesting one as well. When the psychic got involved, everyone knew they meant business.
Having found a break in the line big enough for his Baby, Dean shut the car off and mentally prepared himself for another long night of filming. His only comfort was the company he’d be sharing when they get back to the hotel around 5 in the morning, if they’re lucky.
His mind was pulled from the less than pure thoughts by the tinny rock music of his ringtone. The caller ID showed “Chuck” and Dean wondered what the hell had happened that the producer for the show would be calling.
Dean answered the call, a small pit forming in his stomach. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Hey Dean, got a sec?” Chuck sounded nervous. Then again, he always sounded nervous…
“I was about to head in, but yeah, what’s up?” Dean replied, turning to glance toward the house behind him. The crew was still unloading stuff so it couldn’t be that bad, right?
“I just wanted to let you know that the studio has decided to bring Castiel on full time,” Chuck said in a rush.
“…What?”
“Look I know you two don’t always see eye to eye but the market research came back and the episodes with Cas in them are the highest rated overall.”
“Yeah, I wonder why,” Dean scoffed.
“People love drama, you know that.”
“Yeah and hunting for these fake as fuck ghosts isn’t drama enough?”
“Come on Dean, you know I wouldn’t lead you astray…”
“Sure, whatever. So what, you want me to break the news to everyone else?”
“They um… They already know,” Chuck said, his voice trailing off in a squeak.
“Excuse me?” Dean was gonna kill Cas.
“Look, you’re all on a tight schedule, we’ll talk later.” It sounded like Chuck had pulled the phone away from his face.
“Oh, you bet we will,” Dean promised.
Jamming his finger on the button to end the call, Dean sighed and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He knew that his dynamic with Cas was popular but he hadn’t anticipated this. He should have seen it coming though. He’d seen the fan groups online. The posts breaking down their arguments and body language. The so called ‘eye-fucking’. Looking back, it was only a matter of time before the studio caught wind of it too and decided to capitalize on the following.
Regardless, there was no use hiding out in the car all night. Dean grabbed his jacket off the seat next to him and stepped out of the car. A short jog up to the house and he was as ready as he’d ever be. He pushed open the door and followed the sounds of excited conversation to the kitchen weaving through heavy duty cases containing their equipment and cameras. He paused just outside the kitchen door.
“You should have been there for the asylum! That place was crawling with activity!” Garth said excitedly. Then again, he was excited about everything.
“It’s going to be so nice having a fourth person, we can split up in pairs!” Charlie said.
“I’m sure we know who they’ll want me to pair up with,” Cas said. Dean couldn’t see his face but he was sure there was some hint of a grimace there. Dean stepped into the doorway and knocked on the frame.
“Hey, uh. Cas, can I talk to you for a sec?”
The three of them spun to the doorway, various shades of guilt on their faces. Except for Cas. He could see that sparkle in Cas’ eyes from a mile away.
“Sure,” Cas said, his voice even and neutral.
Dean led Cas to the back of the house, away from the others and the controlled chaos of setup. They found a small sitting room, a cozy little room filled with antique furniture with handmade doilies on every surface. Dean crossed the room, pulling a hand through his hair as Cas closed the door behind them. The annoyed look dropped from his face the second he turned and saw the grin on Cas’.
“Holy fuck, Cas, congratulations,” Dean muttered, rushing back to Cas and pulling him into a hug.
“I can’t believe it, I didn’t find out until this morning,” Cas said, wrapping his arms around Dean and nestling his face into Dean’s neck. The butterflies that swooped in his stomach hadn’t gotten old and he suspected they never would.
“You coulda told me, you asshole,” Dean said, affection brightening the insult.
“Yeah, I thought it might be funnier this way. Was it?”
“Well I had an awkward conversation with a very squirrelly Chuck about how ‘drama sells’ so you tell me?” Dean snarked.
“Definitely funnier.” Dean could feel Cas’ grin against his neck and he couldn’t even pretend that he was mad.
“The others are probably going to figure it out sooner or later, you know…”
“Yeah probably. Kinda hard to hide that we don’t actually hate each other if we’re working every case together.”
“Wanna have a little fun before we clue everyone in?”
“What do you have in mind?” Cas asked, pulling back just enough to meet Dean’s eyes.
“Drama sells, right? Let’s be a little extra dramatic,” Dean suggested.
“Sounds fun to me,” Cas said, a mischievous glint in his eye. God, Dean was absolutely fucked.
…
“If there is a presence here, please make yourself known,” Castiel intoned.
“Temperature is stable at 69 degrees,” Charlie called out.
“Nice,” Dean chimed in. Cas cracked an eye open and glared at him. “What? They can cut that out.” Dean turned back to the camera person in the corner of the room. “Hi editor, sorry in advance.” Dean turned back and Cas was throwing the full force of his annoyance at him but he could see the smile just underneath.
Closing his eyes once more, Cas raised his palms up and tilted his head back. He took a deep breath in and released it slowly.
“Spirit, I invite you to use me as a vessel. You may borrow my voice to speak and my eyes to see,” Cas said, speaking clearly and carefully.
Dean felt a little bad about this next part. While Dean was a skeptic when it came to the whole ghost thing (that was his role on the team after all) he’d had some experiences with Cas’ so-called psychic abilities that he couldn’t explain. It was more than just doing research and asking leading questions. Dean really did buy into Cas’ abilities, but for this to work, Dean would have to cross some lines. They had laid down ground rules back in the sitting room and the two of them really were going to take their tension to a new level tonight. The studio wanted to capitalize on drama, they’d give them drama.
“So stupid…” Dean muttered under his breath.
“Excuse me?” Cas asked, his eyes snapping open, his hands still elevated at his sides.
“Nothing,” Dean hastily replied.
“That’s what I thought,” Cas huffed.
“It’s just that you look like an idiot.” Dean was pretty sure the whole crew stopped breathing. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Charlie’s jaw drop. Dean made a mental note to take everyone out for a nice dinner after this.
“Oh here we go,” Cas said, rolling his eyes. “You know what, I want to know what your problem is! I get that you don’t believe in this stuff but news flash, you’re on a show about it! Get used to it!”
“Look, ghosts are one thing, but this psychic jumbo jumbo? Nah.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Nope. Like what’s next? Aliens are real?” He looked around the room and settled on a large Monstera in the corner. Channeling his most over the top gasp he painted and said, “what the… Does that plant have teeth?”
Cas’ glare broke spectacularly as he choked out a laugh. Dean couldn’t help his own warm smile at the sight. Cas was so stunningly beautiful when he smiled.
“Whaaaaaat is going on,” Garth asked from behind Dean.
“I’m sorry,” Cas laughed, his words coming in fits and starts as he struggles to catch his breath. “I couldn’t hold it in. Plants with teeth!” He collapsed into another laughing fit. Dean chuckled and turned to the crew.
“Yeah, so uh. Cas and I have been dating for a few months now,” Dean admitted.
“Ha! You owe me fifty bucks!” Charlie yelled at Garth.