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If you would ask Dean Winchester, this is definitely not how the thought his day would start. Firstly, he woke up to a stern voice demanding he’d wake up. Secondly, he had to take a couple of seconds to orientate himself, before realizing he was currently being plagued by a hangover of epic proportions. He was about to ask himself what had caused him to drink so much, especially since he had a dreaded sense of something important coming up, but Charlie’s voice interrupted any train of thought:
“Dean Ross Winchester, so help me god, if you don’t wake up right now, you’ll lose all godfather rights!”
Dean groaned: “I’m up, I’m up. What’s the emergency?”
To Charlie’s credit, she only seemed slightly stressed while telling him that she was DEFINITELY going in to labour, but didn’t seem to appreciate him asking her in panic how that was possible – after all, she was only due in two weeks’ time.
“I know, Winchester. Call me a cab, you’re not driving me to the hospital in the state you’re in.”
He couldn’t fault her for that logic; his vision didn’t agree with the sunlight at all. Or with the colour scheme of the calling card that she just handed him. “Your friendly neighbourhood cabdriver to reach your dreams! Gay-and women friendly cabs!”, the slogan read, while depicting a car driving over a rainbow. Dean guessed subtlety wasn’t this company’s forte, but Charlie apparently trusted their cabbies. “Ask for Cabstiel” was hastily scribbled on the back of the card, which was surprisingly blank. With a throbbing headache, Dean didn’t question anything and quickly booked a “Cabstiel” cab through a way too enthusiastic operator.
Fifteen minutes passed by quickly, and the two of them had just about gathered all the necessities and made all important phone calls when their cab arrived. More importantly, that’s when the cabbie arrived. Oh yes, Dean could definitely see this guy reaching his dreams. He of course didn’t realize he said this out loud, until Charlie snorted and apologized on his behalf.
“I’m sorry for my very hungover and very single best friend.”
Dean occupied himself quickly with loading their bags in the trunk while Charlie introduced herself and assured the cabbie that being accompanied to the hospital by a hungover friend was a fate entirely of her own making. Well, obviously she couldn’t help Dorothy being out of the country and Sam being on holiday until tomorrow, but she sure did encourage Dean drinking for the both of them to celebrate. Sam had called to tell them that – after a month of vacation in Canada of all places – he had finally gathered courage to ask Jess to marry him.
“-and actually, I’m two weeks early so…”
“I see. I suppose it’d be best if we left now then, seeing your condition.”
“Great!”, Dean agreed while getting in the cab after guiding Charlie in: “At what time would we arrive there?”
“About half an hour.”, the cabbie replied while starting the car: “My brother also obliges me to ask how you’ve heard of this company.”
“No small talk in the Cabstiel, then?” Dean asked jokingly, while taking out the calling card he had put in his pocket.
“WHAT?!”
Dean swore his heart jumped at the growl that came out of this guy’s mouth, but thankfully the car kept on driving steadily.
“The card?”, Dean asked, only somewhat intimidated, and read him the tagline and scribble.
“I’m… going to murder my brother. I can’t believe he went for that pun. He thinks it’s funny, because my name is Castiel.”
Charlie laughed loudly, and Dean chuckled even though he does feel bad for the guy: “Brothers really are the worst. So I suppose you had nothing to do with rainbow road to dreams, then?"
“No, but suddenly a lot of things make more sense.”
Dean didn’t blush when the guy – Castiel – winked at him. It definitely was a heat stroke from being hung over. Definitely.
“I’m doing fine, by the way, if you want to keep flirting.”, Charlie called out from the back seat.
“We won’t get stuck in traffic, right?”
Dean knows this is a stupid question to ask at 3 PM, but he suddenly felt that stress and sense of urgency washing over him again.
Castiel and Charlie both shot him a smirk.
“What?”, he tried to defend himself: “What if we get stuck in traffic and we have to deliver the baby? I don’t know anything about delivering babies! Do you?”
Castiel opened his mouth to say something, but Dean went on:
“I mean, should one of us of check how far she’s along? Just in case? And could that person possibly be you?”
“Me?!” Castiel asked confused: “I’m sure Charlie prefers you!”
“I’m actually not too sure of that!”
“Well, I’m gay, I thought this would allow me to pass looking at vagina for life!”
“But I’m bisexual, I’m sure that gives me half a pass and I’m using that right now!”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not how bisexuality works.”
“GUYS. Give this lady a break, will you! There’s not going to be any naked anyone in this cab! Well, at least not until I’m getting out and you can sort your attraction to one another among yourselves, but I do hope we reach the hospital first. ETA?”
After a short, stunned silence, Castiel replied that they had another twenty minutes to go. Dean was pretty sure he heard Charlie mumble ‘Great, another twenty minutes of this.’, but spent the rest of the ride keeping her distracted from her contractions, all the while discussing the best ways to get back at Castiel’s brother Gabriel. He was sure to keep any flirting banter out of the conversation. Well, maybe there had been a little of it, going by Charlies eye rolls and knowing smirks.
If you would ask Dean Winchester, this is definitely also not how he’d imagined his day to end: being a godfather at last (he was still fighting for the second name to be “Kirk”), and a ride home that had the promise of reaching his dreams.
....
Which was exactly how Gabriel and Charlie had planned it all along, until little Leia had decided to speed up their matchmaking plans.