Archive of Our Own ^beta

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            Castiel turned on the 5 O’clock news while eating his fast food burger and fries. After the typical greetings by the anchors, they plunged into the news.

            “Our top story tonight,” said the female anchor, “the infamous Plaid Bandit strikes again.” Cas leaned forward in his seat, intent on seeing every image they would share. “At 3:52 this afternoon, the man walked into The First National Bank…” She continued with the story, her voice over a grainy black and white video clip.

            The man was as gorgeous as he remembered; square jaw, strong nose, slight stubble, and eyes wider than any thief had the right to possess. He turned to the camera, giving it a wink before drawing a pistol and moving out of the shot.

            “We now go to Dan, live at the scene.” Cas relaxed back into his seat as the man covered the human interest side of the story. Cas tuned it out, only keeping it on to monitor any unwanted exposure he might get. Not that he’d done anything lately, but you never know, sometimes leads come up.

            Looking back, he couldn’t really pinpoint what made him start robbing in the first place. He’d never been wanting for money. He guessed it was the thrill of it. He started off shoplifting, but it got to the point that it wasn’t enough. He bought a gun on impulse and taught himself how to shoot.

            It was shortly after his first robbery (a convenience store two towns over) that the Plaid Bandit made his first TV appearance. Cas was surprised at his boldness, walking into security-heavy places with no mask. Cas was smitten from the moment he appeared on the morning news. And today he fucking winked. Who does that?

            He went to bed that night, hatching a plan for his next heist.

            Dean watched the news and was unsurprised to see his own face. He really had made a spectacular showing this afternoon.

            It was all his fault; that other thief with the sex hair and dip above his lip and perfect teeth. He had to admit, at least to himself, the damn wink was for him. He was such an idiot sometimes, risking getting caught just to flirt with someone he’d probably never meet, but he didn’t regret it, especially when he saw the clip on the news.

            Honestly, he hated the moniker they’d given him, but it’s not like he could change it. Maybe he’d wear something other than plaid on his next job.

            He was a little disappointed at the coverage the heist got, but to be fair he hadn’t taken much and no one got hurt. That was his least favorite part of doing this. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but sometimes he had to. He still had nightmares about the woman he’d shot in the arm his first heist.

            He shook off the feeling as he cracked open a beer, content to spend the next few days locked in his house. The downside of being so public with his jobs was that he couldn’t afford to make friends and generally avoided going out for a week or so after each robbery. It had worked well so far, but he had thought about going straight, getting a real job.

            He sighed and started flipping through channels. He didn’t find anything interesting, so he left it on an old sitcom rerun while him mind wandered.

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            Cas walked into the gas station wearing his usual suit and trench coat. He’d been called well-dressed on the news after his first heist so he’d stuck with it. Sadly he hadn’t gotten a cool nick name like the Plaid Bandit.

            He looked around, trying to find a camera. He knew it was dumb, but he really wanted to get a message to the other thief. He spotted it and cautiously glanced at it. The store was empty and the clerk had his back turned so Cas turned more boldly toward the camera and lifted one corner of his mouth.

            He pulled the knife from his pocket and leaned over the counter, pulling the man down by his uniform. He placed the tip of the blade against the man’s throat and demanded the money from the cash register.

            The man didn’t put up a fight; he just opened the drawer and pulled out all the bills. He placed them on the counter and Cas grabbed the stack of cash and shoved it all into his pockets before lowering the blade and walking quickly from the store.

            When Cas got home, he counted the money—five hundred and sixty three dollars. Not a bad job and everything had gone smoothly.

            He was pleased to see the news ran the video clip and wondered if the other thief thought the smile might be for him.

            Dean turned on the news the day after his heist. He got a brief mention again, but only in light of the robbery that had occurred earlier that day. “According to the clerk, the man had a knife against his throat as he was forced to empty the register…”

            They played the security camera footage and Dean’s jaw dropped. There was no way this was a coincidence. The day after he winked at the camera, the attractive man smirked at another one.

            This had to be for him—or at least in response to him. The pure power Dean saw in the other thief’s muscles was staggering. He wanted to run his hands over his back and shoulders, and he wanted him to manhandle his body like he did with the clerk.

            Dean was getting unreasonably turned on by the few short minutes of footage and decided to turn off the TV and take care of the aching hardness between his legs.

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            Dean’s next heist was a little less successful. He managed a glance and a small smile at the camera before someone recognized him and he was forced to jump into robber mode. To be fair, it was a little risky doing this so soon after his last job, but he wanted to flirt some more.

            The take wasn’t as lucrative this time either, being a small bank, but he got away with about $7,000 and avoided any run-ins with the police.

            They ran a story very similar to the last time and he felt disappointed that there was no obvious flirtation in his smile. He sighed and took a swig of beer before flopping back onto the couch. He should really get some kind of hobby because sitting in the house for weeks gets really boring.

            When the news ended and his beer was gone, he got out his lap top and started looking up security specs on the large bank across town. He wanted to do a night robbery again, because the take was generally larger, but it also meant research and that had always been more of his brother’s thing.

            It was times like these he really missed Sam, but for obvious reasons he’d cut himself out of Dean’s life. Ran off to Stanford, got married and was now expecting a kid. Every time he found himself of his brother’s Facebook page, he had to remind himself that it wasn’t stalking, it was concern.

            It was fairly easy to find the building specs online, a little harder to find the security information, and fairly difficult to find the exact location of all the cameras. He didn’t want to avoid all of them of course, that would be no fun, but he would like to keep his safe cracking secrets to himself.

            Apparently the Plaid Bandit had struck again. Cas couldn’t say he was surprised; he’d been tracking the robber’s work and the timing was about right.

            The security footage they used on the news was brief and all the man had done was smile, but Cas was instantly affected. He wanted to believe he was responsible for that smile. He wanted to be responsible for more of those smiles.

            He wanted to reciprocate, and his funds were starting to run a bit low (he hadn’t gotten much from the convenience store). He needed a big heist though, since his computer was on the fritz again.

            Which meant night robbery. At a bank. He sighed as the thought occurred to him. He hated breaking in; too much damage. He’d  do a smaller job first, get the layout of the building, figure out where the cameras were. No sense going in blind and he might as well get a few hundred bucks for his efforts.

            He decided his target and went to bed early, oddly tired considering he’d done nothing all day.

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            Dean saw the news a few days later. The handsome thief had struck again, and he was slightly disappointed to hear his target had been the bank he had his sights set on for his big job. He’d have to wait a week or so before they got the money back to make it really worth his time.

            All anger was gone though once they showed the security footage. The guy not only winked at the camera but gave it a little thumbs up as well. It was cute and Dean felt an odd sense of affection well in his chest.

            He decided he could forgive the other man for pushing his own plans back a bit. Really, it gave him a little extra time to prepare and that was never a bad thing.

            He went to bed that night content and a little drunk. He dreamt of messy dark hair and a cocky smile, imagining that they were aimed at him.

            Cas was happy with his take. This, in and of itself, was enough to get a new computer, but just barely. He’d have to go hungry if he spent it all in one place.

            He sighed as he sat down on the couch with a bowl of Ramen and turned on the TV. He was on the news, of course, and even he had to admit the flirtation was obvious. He wondered if the Plaid Bandit was watching, and of he knew it was for him.

            He found himself getting unreasonably sad thinking about the fact that they would likely never meet. He felt like they must have more in common than their chosen method of acquiring money, but he would never know.

            When the news was over and his bowl sat empty on the end table, he began sketching out the schematics of the bank, trying to plan exactly how he would get in and avoid the security cameras. He really should burn his old plans; if anyone got their hand on this sketchbook, he was screwed. He was sentimental about them though.

            His planning was done by nine, and rather than occupy himself with one of his inane hobbies (like the puzzle he had taking over his kitchen table or the half-finished scarf sitting on the recliner) he got into the shower and thought about the bandit without his plaid, without much of anything really, and he decided he had made the right choice.

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            Dean had a plan, and it went beyond just a simple night robbery. He had three sheets of paper stuck between his legs as he broke into the bank a few weeks later. He snuck in, avoiding all the cameras. The vault was a little harder to get into, but once he managed, he filled his backpack with cash and walked back out.

            The last camera he passed, he didn’t even try to stay out of its path. He stood straight, stared at the camera and held up the stack of papers, flipping through them one by one before winking and slipping out the door and going home.

            Cas watched the news and was a little pissed to hear that his target bank had been robbed again, but this time at night. The take was in the ball park of ten thousand dollars and Cas sighed, thinking that should have been his. Hell, he could have taken more.

            His anger subsided when it turned out to be the work of the infamous plaid bandit. He sat a little straighter in his seat as they played the security footage.

            “…he evaded the cameras until after breaking into the vault. He had a message, though we don’t know…” the anchor droned on, but Cas was too busy reading the notes the thief flashed at the camera.

            I know you already hit this joint

            but I couldn’t resist

            sorry, not sorry

            Cas knew it had to be directed at him, and that damn wink had him flustered again. He knew he couldn’t hit the same bank, so he went online and tried to find his next target. He didn’t get very far in his research before his computer froze up again. He slammed it shut and shoved it aside before turning on an old sitcom and finishing up his scarf. He’d have to go in blind; he didn’t like doing that, but he had no choice.

            Cas struck the next week. It was another bank, albeit smaller. There was a slight advantage though, less security measures to bypass.

            He managed to get in, grab the money and get out with no problems. He stood awkwardly in front of the camera for a few seconds before lifting up a single sheet of paper.

$25,000

Beat that, “plaid bandit”

            He laughed a little before slipping out the door and making his way home. Not only was it his largest take, but he felt like he successfully flirted with a man he had never met, and that felt pretty good.

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            Dean almost choked on his beer when he saw the news. The dark-haired thief had a message for him, called him out specifically in fact. He was determined to take the challenge. And that freaking laugh, Dean thought he would love to hear the sound that accompanied the almost full-body shake.

            He needed to up his game. There was no way he was going to let this other man get away with this challenge. He was sitting pretty after the last heist, but god help him, he was a romantic and competitive as fuck. It took a few weeks to plan the next job and about an hour of online shopping to justify it.

            The bank wasn’t as big as the last one, just a small credit union, but he was very sure to go for large bills and he counted out $30,000 and shoved the bills roughly in his backpack. He took the paper from where he set it on the floor and stared at the bold black letters.

You’re hot when you gloat

            Cas missed the news that night, but when he looked it up on his new computer, there was an article about the plaid bandit. The photo that accompanied it was the man smiling at the camera, holding a sign.

            Cas almost dropped his laptop in shock. The damn thief had called him hot. That in and of itself was enough to make his head big. He began to hatch a plan for his next heist and quickly found what he needed online and placed his order. He was going to look ridiculous, but it was the only way to step up the flirting.

            After all, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

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            Cas feels ridiculous as he gets dressed the morning of his next heist. He doesn’t need much, but a few hundred bucks won’t go amiss, so he puts on jeans and a plain black t-shirt, which isn’t exactly out of the norm for him. But then he puts on some dark brown work boots and a plaid flannel over shirt and he can’t help but wonder why anyone would bother with so many layers.

            He walks around the apartment for a while, getting used to the awkward weight on his feet and trying not to sound like an elephant. When he’s satisfied that he’s not going to make an idiot of himself, he grabs his empty backpack and heads out to his target bank.

            It’s not very busy, given that it’s about 10 am; only a few people standing at the teller windows. He takes a moment to locate the security camera and give it a smile and wink before approaching the only open teller. He feels bad for her, she’s probably only in high school. He takes a deep breath as he gets closer to the window and reminds himself it has to be her or he’ll begin to arouse suspicion.

            Cas took his back pack off and set it on the counter before pulling out his knife. “Be a doll and empty your drawer into the bag,” he said in his sweetest voice. Within minutes, he was out the door with the weight of cash on his back and a smile on his face.

            Dean was once again floored by the stranger on the screen. No message this time, but he was dressed like Dean. “Son of a bitch,” he murmured, turning up the volume to hear the story.

            “...With the recent increase in robberies, many banks have added security measures. Some now have armed guards in the lobby and others have invested in bullet-proof glass. Panic buttons…” Dean switched off the TV as he became disinterested in the updates. He knew this would probably make his job harder, but the challenge was half the fun.

            He was much more interested in figuring out his next step in this flirting war of theirs. He couldn’t really pull the same stunt; that would be too easy. He had to take it a step further.

            And that’s how Dean found himself walking into a convenience store wearing nothing but a trench coat.

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            Castiel was loitering outside the gas station when he noticed the plaid bandit exit a black Impala; except he wasn’t wearing plaid.

            He watched through the large window of the store as the strange man pulled a pistol from the jacket of the trench coat he was wearing and received a load of cash in exchange. He watched as the thief turned toward where Cas knew the security camera was and flashed it in a glorious display of full-frontal nudity.

            Cas made a bold decision and ran to the classic car and slid into the passenger seat, thankful the door had been left unlocked. When the other man got into the driver’s side, he stared at him for a long moment. “Drive, I’ll explain later,” Cas said, needed to avoid a run-in with the police.

            Dean sped out of the driveway and, not wanting to take the stranger to his home, drove out to a secluded spot in the woods just outside of town. “You wanna explain why you’re in my car?” he asked, turning off the engine.

            “I saw you in the store, and I just felt like I had to meet you and this was my chance. You have a nice car, by the way.”

            “Thank you,” he said, stroking the dash of his baby, “I’m Dean, by the way.”

            “See, you’re trusting me already,” the other man laughed, “I’m Castiel.”

            “You’re shitting me,” Dean stared at the guy, mouth agape, not sure if he should believe him or not.

            “Honest to god,” and the man pulled out his wallet and thrust his ID in Dean’s direction. Sure enough, the name on it was Castiel Novak. “My mom had a thing for angels,” he explained, taking the wallet back.

            “You’re awfully trusting,” Dean observed.

            “Somehow I don’t think you’ll be turning me in.”

            “That’s true,” Dean admitted, “I’ll be too busy kissing you.”

            “Is that a promise?” Cas leaned closer.

            “Shut up,” Dean said before pulling Cas’s head toward his own and pressing their lips together. It didn’t take him very long to decide that he was very glad that Cas had gotten into his car.