"I don't see what's wrong with the gas station," Dean muttered, not for the first time, as Sam towed his brother through the crowds at the mall.
"Sorry, Dean, I'm not letting you get Cas porn and alcohol for his very first Christmas," Sam explained, very patiently he thought.
"Dude, he's like a million years old. It's hardly his first Christmas," Dean griped, grabbing Sam's sleeve to haul him out of the way of a lady holding a dozen bags and paying not a bit of attention to where she was walking.
"His first Christmas with us then," Sam corrected. "You were the one who made a big deal about him spending the holiday with us. If we're going to do it, we're going to do it right."
Dean sighed, "Whatever."
Sam snorted and waved to a cute blonde girl who was helping a desperate looking man with a tacky scarf. "Don't whatever me, Dean. You're the one who wants to make this the best Christmas ever. I know it's all part of your plan to convince Cas to stay forever and move into the Impala with you and start having your angel babies."
Dean's face flushed red, though Sam suspected it was more from embarrassment than anger and muttered, "Bitch" as the clerk made her way to their side.
"May I help you?" she asked with a sincere but weary smile.
"Yes," Sam answered, "my jerk of a brother needs help finding a gift."
"Who is the gift for?" the sales girl asked, turning her attention to Dean.
"Cas," Dean answered - rather unhelpfully, Sam thought.
"And Cas is?" the girl prompted again, polite interest wearing thin in the face of Dean's helpless expression.
What the hell? Sam decided. "Cas is his angel," he answered.
Dean gaped at him in disbelief. "Sam," he hissed.
Sam ignored him, giving the sales girl a smile instead. "You know, dragged him out of hell and helped him find his destiny, that sort of thing."
"Oh," the sales woman said, interest and good humor returning under the explanation. "I see. First Christmas together?" she said knowingly. "That can be difficult. Why don't you tell me about her interests."
"His," Sam corrected, this time glancing at his brother to enjoy the confused murder playing across Dean's expression.
The sales woman turned to Dean again, smiling even wider. "His interests, then."
Dean squirmed under the attention of his two companions. "Um, he likes religious stuff and nature and staring at people..." Dean looked up, warming to the topic, "And warm pie, dusty books, the color green, puzzles, trench coats, classic rock and fairy tales."
Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother. Dean scowled at him, arms crossing defensively across his chest. "Does that help?" he asked the sales girl.
She smiled at him, bemused or overwhelmed, Sam wasn't sure, and led Dean deeper into the store.
Sam watched from the kitchen as Cas looked over his sea of unwrapped presents with a bemused expression. He'd ended up with a large book of fairy tales, a small catcus in a pot, a green scarf, and an I-pod loaded with what Dean considered the essentials of classic rock.
(And don't think Sam hadn't given his brother crap about that. "How come my I-pod is a travesty, but it's okay for Cas to have one?" He'd absolutely not made a bitch face about it, no matter what Dean claimed.
"Cause he flies…" Dean paused, eyeing the sales girl who was watching their exchange with amusement "…for work. He can keep this in his pocket.")
"Thank you, Dean. I was not expecting so much," Cas was saying now. He ran a finger over the warm green scarf he'd opened last.
Dean picked it up and wrapped it around Cas's neck. "It'll keep you warm when you're flapping around in the ether."
"It's the color of your eyes," Cas observed, making Dean blush and Sam roll his eyes.
Dean cleared his throat and fussed unnecessarily with the scarf. "Well, then it'll help you remember your real friends when you're busy with the dicks with wings."
"Dean," Cas said, "I'm sorry. I did not realize we would be exchanging so many gifts." He indicated the protection amulet he'd given Dean ("Until I can return yours," he'd said when Dean had unwrapped it.).
"It's okay, Cas," Dean said quickly, hands still tucking and tugging at Cas's scarf.
Sam resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. "Promise to stay forever and have his angel babies and he'll call it even," Sam suggested helpfully.
Dean and Cas turned to stare at him, and it occurred to Sam that he'd had perhaps a bit too much of Bobby's eggnog. He shrugged. Didn't make it any less true.
Cas turned back to Dean who was still trying to kill Sam with the power of his eyes. "Dean, I promise to, as much as is healthy and feasible, stay with you forever."
Dean stopped glaring at his brother to gape at Cas. "What?"
"If my devotion is truly what you want, it is a gift I will gladly give."
"Cas," Dean began, reluctantly Sam thought, "I don't want you to be with me out of pity or obligation or cause you didn't buy enough gifts or whatever."
"Of course not," Cas agreed, "I would like to be with you because I love you and, in light of Sam's words, I believe being together is what would make us both the happiest. Do you not feel the same?"
In answer Dean lunged forward, wrapping his arms around the angel and crushing their lips together. Sam averted his gaze before he suffered further psychological damage and tried to ignore the quiet sounds and words coming from the other room.
After a few minutes, during which Sam debated the best way to get upstairs without attracting attention to himself, Cas spoke. "Dean. I cannot give you everything you want." Sam's eyes snapped back to the scene before him, suddenly worried for his brother's newfound happiness.
Dean didn't appear concerned at all. He looked over at Sam and then back to Cas. "You already have."
Cas smiled, but still looked mildly worried. "But what Sam said… Dean, angels do not have babies."
Dean stared at the angel in surprise for a few seconds and then threw back his head and laughed. Sam closed his eyes and soaked up the sound of his brother's happiness, reflecting that for once, they'd all gotten exactly what they wanted for Christmas.