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Just A Kiss

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A Rush Of Blood To The Head : Series One

Episode Four:  Just A Kiss *

Part One:  Somebody Help Me **

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Since Gabriel had woken up Castiel from his coma, Cas has refused to go to Heaven. Shortly after the Angel had regained consciousness, he went to go speak with Dean, but the two got into an argument. But now, Cas was back in both Sam and Dean's good graces. After that, Dean had been able to tell that something was wrong; that Cas did not really want to go back to Heaven. So, the hunter ended up asking Cas if he wanted to hang around for a while, and the Angel accepted. Cas was glad he was going to be spending more time with the Dean and his brother Sam - but mostly Dean. Don't get the Angel wrong, he did care for Sam, but not in the same way - or as much as - he did Dean.

 

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Sam was sitting on his bed with his feet out in front of him and his computer in his lap. Once again the younger Winchester was tasked with finding them a case.

Dean and Cas were sitting on the couch, watching TV. Since the two had made up after their big blowout, Sam had noticed that the Angel and his brother were growing closer, though you would have to look exceptionally hard to see it. The thing that really stuck out to Sam was that over the past week, the two had been sitting increasingly closer; although Cas had moved more so than Dean. The younger Winchester doubted that his brother even realized that anything had changed.

At present, Dean and Cas were debating the authenticity of Dr. Sexy MD. The hunter rolled his eyes at Cas's statement about Doctor Sexy not being a qualified medical doctor, then turned his attention to his younger brother. "Sam," Dean said, breaking away from the argument, "did you find us a case or are you watching porn again?"

Dean could feel the heat off his brother's 'bitch face' from there. "I found us some possible cases. One is in Tuscaloosa, Alabama: three men committed suicide by jumping off the roofs at their places of employment. The second is in Texarkana, Texas: a family claims they've been driven out of their home by a poltergeist. The third is in Enid, Oklahoma where apparently five men got into a bar fight and then they all disappeared."

"Tuscaloosa? Hey, doesn't Rosie live in Tuscaloosa?" Dean asked, leering at Sam. Their last encounter with the female hunter had left Dean with the impression that she was holding a torch for Sam, and vice versa.

"Rosanna Carlyle? Yeah, actually, I think she does. Want me to call her, see if she knows anything?"

Dean smirked at him, "Do you want us to give you some privacy?" Sam rolled his eyes. Dean smirked, "Come on, Cas, we need more beer anyway."

Sam watched as Cas followed Dean out of the hotel room and shook his head. He detached his cell from the charger, found Rosie's number in his contact list and dialed.

"Holy shit!" Sam pulled the phone away from his ear as her ring back tone threatened to burst his ear drum.

"Hallo!" A cheerful and slightly tipsy woman carolled over the sound of a throbbing beat.

"Rosanna Carlyle?" Sam said, raising his voice against the noise.

"Who's calling?" The woman asked, half shouting.

"This is Sam, Sam Winchester."

"Sammy!" The woman said, "Hold on, 'kay." The noise level decreased appreciatively, "Alrighty then, hi Sammy. Yes, this is Rosie, you don't have to call me by my full name everytime we talk." Right, Sam thought as he remembered the dirty looks Rosie gave him every time he called her Rosanna, "What's going on?"

"Well, I was just checking online for a new case when I noticed the three suicides in your town. You know, the ones where some guy jumped off the roof of the place he worked?"

"I know, weird, right? I'm trying to figure it out, hence the noise."

Uh, what? "What does the noise have to do with the case?"

"All of the guys ended up at this club a couple nights before they died. One of them was married, his wife was trying to file for divorce and had him followed here in fact. The other two talked about this club to their co-workers. The dead guys' colleagues were happy to chat with a news reporter if I put their names in the paper."

Sam sighed, "Rosie, you should be careful. You don't know why they killed themselves."

"I'm fine, Sammy, honest. You read something online? I bet it's my by-line, I've been working this for a while now. Whatever gets these guys does it on Tuesday nights and they're dead by Thursday mornings."

"Do you think you need help, though? Dean and I could be there in a less than day." Probably a lot less if Dean's in a mood, Sam thought to himself.

"That'd be great, Sammy. I just got wind of this big story in Wisconsin. Remember that big to-do about the collective bargaining rights? I've got a source that can get me in with someone close to that Williams guy. He's got some deep pocket friends who would hate to find themselves with a whistle blower."

"That sounds fun," Sam said dryly, "We'll be there ASAP to see what we can do about your suicides."

"Thanks, my boss wasn't too happy about me digging around anyways. 'People don't want tragedies Carlyle, they want scandals, big scandals!'" Rosie laughed as she finished mocking her boss, "I'll leave my notes at the paper, just tell them you're from a magazine called The Pyramid and your name is Chet. And I'll leave a key under my welcome mat."

 

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"I mean," Dean said as he pulled into the liquor store parking lot. "I just don't get it. Why are there so many creatures out there that can turn humans into flying monkeys?"

Cas, while looking out the windshield, squinted his eyes and shook his head, "I'm not aware of any creature that can turn humans into flying monkeys."

Dean sighed. "Not literally, Cas. I meant mind control."

Still squinting, Cas looked at Dean, then tilted his head, "I don't understand the connection between flying monkey and mind control, Dean."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply, "Just forget it, Cas." Dean killed the engine.

When they entered the liquor store, Dean and Cas split up. Dean grabbed two six-packs and found Cas in the whiskey aisle.

"Cas, what, uh, what's with that," Dean asked, indicating the four different brands of whiskey in the angel's arms.

"Remember that time I, 'got smashed'?" The angel asked.

Hesitant and curious, Dean answered "Yeah?"

Cas looked down at his collection, "Well, these were the brands of alcohol that I found most appealing."

Dean saw that one of the bottles was Jack Daniels and smiled, "An Angel after my own heart." Dean slammed his eyes shut, what the fuck, Winchester? Dean shook his head and went to pay for the alcohol.

 

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Dean and Cas returned to the motel. When Dean turned off the car, the angel's cellphone rang. Cas answered it and after about a minute of speaking in a language Dean didn't understand, he hung up.

Cas frowned, "That was Gabriel. He needs me to do something."

Dean wouldn't admit it out loud, but he didn't want the angel to go. But he was curious about Cas's expression. "What's with the long face? I mean, why so glum?" Dean thought the angel would be happy to be doing something for the good of Heaven, or mankind, or whatever his brother needed.

Cas sighed, "I was looking forward to the Jack Daniels."

Dean smiled and laughed, "Well, you can take it with you."

The angel looked at the hunter with annoyance, "Dean, I have to do what Gabriel tells me and I can't take the liquor with me while I do it."

"A joke, Cas. That was a joke." Dean took a deep breath and added, "Don't get yourself killed, ok? Again, I mean."

Cas gave a small nod, "I will do my best, Dean."

With a flutter, the angel was gone. Dean sighed and laid his head back against the headrest briefly before getting out the car.

 

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Sam frowned at Dean as he walked in the door, "Where's Cas? And what's with all the whiskey?"

Dean's mouth twitched slightly before replying, "Cas picked them out before Gabriel called him and told him to do who knows what." He set Cas's whiskey on the table and the beer beside it. "Anything on your case?"

"Well, Rosie thinks it's definitely something suspicious, but she can't investigate it," Sam replied. "Her boss wants her to go to Wisconsin for a story. Since she had the original write up on our case, she said she'd leave her notes at the Gazette for us to get."

Dean popped open a beer and took a swig, "What about the case in Edna?"

"You mean, Enid? Sam asked, "I called Hank. He said he'd take care of it."

"So we're going to Tuscaloosa then." Dean cocked his head and grinned, "Too bad your Rosie's going out of town."

Sam dropped a fist onto the table. "She's not mine, Dean," he snapped.

"Doesn't mean she couldn't be," Dean replied playfully as he plopped onto his bed and began flipping through the channels.

Sam huffed and closed his laptop, then retreated to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

 

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Chapter Text

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A Rush of Blood To The Head : Series One

Episode One: Just A Kiss

Part Two: Guns and Rosies

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The drive to Tuscaloosa was the same as any other long drive Sam and Dean had made, with the exception that Dean had managed to keep Sam away from the gas station burritos. Sam might be a health nut, but gas station burritos are his weak spot. Dean might have called him toxic after eating them, but Sam was really a hazard of WMD proportions.

"So," Sam said as they crossed the Mississippi-Arkansas state line, "what do you think is making these guys jump?"

"Some kind of," Dean shrugged. "Yeah, I, I got nothin'."

"Rosie mentioned a club," Sam reminded him, "maybe that really is a lead."

"Right, you, uh," Dean fidgeted in his seat, "didn't let me finish. We've got nothin' but that."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Maybe it's the music," Sam offered after a moment, "I know there are times when your music drives me crazy."

Dean scoffed. "Yeah. Crazy. But not crazy enough to jump off a building."

True, Sam thought to himself. "Maybe the music is cursed," Sam mused, "I mean, there are tons of stories about music carrying subliminal messages, what if they were true?"

"Yeah, but who could be behind it? Or who even had the," Dean waved his hand in the air, "whatever, to pull it off?"

"I don't know, banshees maybe? There are a lot of creatures that use sound as part of their hunt. A witch could probably do it, with the right tools."

"Or maybe it's a computer nerd who encoded it in the track or whatever. I bet Frank could have pulled that off. Not that it was him."

Sam gave his brother a funny look when he said 'encoded,' but Dean had his eyes on the road so he didn't notice. "Could be a siren," Sam said finally, then winced.

"Sirens work differently, remember," Dean replied shortly. "Idiot," Dean mumbled under his breath.

Sam clenched his jaw, and chose to ignore that and instead turned to look out the window. "We should ask Rosie what she thinks when we get there."

Dean smirked.

Sam furrowed his brow, "What?"

"Sammy can't wait to see his wittle girlfriend."

Sam huffed, "Seriously Dean, she's not my girlfriend! And what's with the baby voice?"

Dean's grin widened, "Because you're a big whiny baby."

"No I'm not," Sam protested. "Besides, I thought Cas was the baby?"

Dean's jaw clenched, his grip on the wheel tightened and he sped up. He pointed an accusing finger at his brother. "First of all, Cas is only a baby when he doesn't have powers." Dean held up a second finger. "Second of all, I'm the only one that can call him a baby." He mumbled in addition, "a baby in a trenchcoat."

Sam hid his smile behind a fist and turned once again towards the window.

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Sam knew that Rosie had moved from her family home after her mother and sister had died, unable to face the memories the three of them had shared there. Rosie now lived in a converted factory on the edge of downtown Tuscaloosa. She had moved there a year ago, shortly after the three worked a case together. They had not seen her new place yet.

Rosie had sent them directions when they reached Tuscaloosa, leaving Dean to grumble about the traffic on the roads Rosie told them to use. "Are you sure she didn't give us the long way?" He asked Sam.

"How would I know?" Sam replied reasonably, "I've never been to her place."

"I swear, she picked the longest route on purpose," Dean grumbled.

Sam let him be, focusing more on preparing to see the pretty, auburn hunter again.

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As soon as they laid eyes on Rosie's condominium, Sam lit up and eagerly got out of the car. He could not wait to see her again, and thought absently about getting laid this time. He could honestly admit that Rosie was one of the few women he'd met since Jess that had interested him like that. He regretted that he had not had more opportunities to spend with with the woman, but that was their life. The last person he had feelings for had been Madison, and she turned out to be a werewolf. A werewolf he himself put down. He knew that what he had been done was out of mercy, but he still did not like to think about it. Ruby, for all that happened between them, who he would have admitted to loving back then, no longer counted for him. It was kind of hard to think fondly of the demon bitch that had turned him into a blood-junkie, tricked him into killing Lilith, which released Lucifer and thus starting the Apocalypse.

Sam put those thoughts out of his mind as Rosie came flying out of the front door of the building with a grin and threw her arms around him. "Hi Sammy! I haven't seen you in forever!" She stepped back and stared at him for a long moment, then tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, "You need a haircut."

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, "We've been a little busy, Rosie."

"I know, it's like someone set off a bell around here. If I'm not chasing stories for the boss, I'm trying to keep a Leviathan from biting my head off." She turned, "Hi Dean, still short, I see."

"Yeah, well, I'm still taller than you," Dean retorted lamely before accepting her enthusiastic hug.

"Yeah, well," Rosie hooked her arm through Sam's, "I'd rather be with the tallest guy in the room. They're easy to find."

Sam blushed. Dean smirked.

"Besides," Rosie continued as she started to pull Sam to the door, "You are way too old for me, Dean."

Dean's face screamed, What the fuck? "You're two months younger than me!"

Rosie stopped and turned to look at Dean. "Exactly," she winked.

Rosie's condo proved to be a spacious top floor, with two bedrooms and floor to ceiling windows in the living room that gave an excellent view of the city and a glimpse of the river beyond.

Dean's eyes widened as he went to the full-length windows. "Whoa." He half turned around to face Rosie, "Nice view!"

Rosie smiled and gave him a short nod in thanks. "You boys got here sooner than I expected, I haven't dropped my notes at the office yet. I've got about two hours before I gotta leave, I'll show you what I've got." She turned away, and put on her hunter voice. "I've been to the club, checked out a few other things, but from what I can find out, the club is the only real link between the three men." She picked up a folder and handed it over, "They had different careers, different lifestyles, one of them was even engaged. So I went to the club to check out the territory, see what the hype was all about. Wrote a nice blurb for the society section too. But I'm not going to publish it until you two figure out what's what."

"Just wondering," Dean said as he looked up from the folder, "what makes you think this is something supernatural?"

"First of all," Rosie said, "Jack used to say there was no such thing as coincidence." Her eyes narrowed a little at the mention of her mentor. "Three guys committing suicide in the exact same manner like that, so close together just seemed odd. Bossman sent me around to look into the whole thing, because it was weird, and I've always liked those assignments. Second, all of them had good lives, were moving up in the world, they had no obvious reason to kill themselves. Third, they all died on a Thursday, all within the noon hour. The final nail in the 'this is something supernatural' coffin was something the coroner found." She reached in the folder and pulled out three pictures.

They were different people, Sam could tell, but all of them had a brand-like marking of a heart with a crown, a very small but distinctive marking.

"What is that?" Dean asked, looking closely at one of the pictures.

"I don't know," Rosie replied. "But it's not in the same place. For victim one, Rushman, it was on his neck, left side. For victim two, Gamble, it was on his left arm. For victim three, Parker, it was on his left hip." A timer in the kitchen went off and Rosie turned away, "Dammit," she said, "I have to finish packing. You two are welcome to stay here while I'm gone. I trust you won't burn the place down."

"You don't have to-" Dean began.

"I insist," Rosie replied as she turned off the timer. "You're doing me the favor, remember? Sam can have my bed, you can have the guest room."

Dean snorted and looked to the floor to keep from laughing at his brother's bitch face.

"Now, my weapons cache is on top of the ac vents," Rosie informed them, "if you need something, don't be afraid to go up there and get it. Just try not to pull it all down in the process." She breezed past the pair and into her bedroom. "Oh, and Sammy," Rosie stuck her head back through the door, "I may be letting you stay in my room, but if you use any of my beauty products, or leave the seat up, I will know, and I will kill you."

Again Dean snorted.

"Bite your tongue, Dean Winchester. Real girls love metrosexuals," Rosie added before vanishing back into her room.

Dean looked like he was about to burst out laughing, and that it was physically hurting him not to do so.

Sam elbowed him in the side then pointed a finger in Dean's face. "Don't. Say. Anything," he muttered before snatching the folder out of Dean's hand and opening it. "Do you have transcripts from your interviews?" He called to Rosie.

"Recorded them," Rosie called back, "It's in the CD player."

"Right," Sam replied, "thanks." He looked up from the folder and glanced around the room. "Uh, Rosie? Where's the CD player?"

Dean and Sam could hear her sigh from the bedroom, "Did you look for it? It's not like it's invisible," she said, stalking out of her bedroom with a red, lacy bra in her hand. "Nope, it's right there," she pointed towards the window, where a bookshelf and a chair created a cozy reading corner.

Now that Sam looked, he could actually see the CD player on one of bookshelves, "Right," he said looking slightly like a wounded puppy, "sorry."

Rosie smiled sweetly, "Don't worry, I know that the air's thinner up where you are than down here, sweetie. But, just fyi, you get two more stupid questions before I beat you to death with a wet paper napkin." Then, bra thrown over her shoulder, she stalked back into her room.

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Dean was listening to the CD when Rosie came out of the bedroom with a huge, rolling suitcase in some sort of Hawaiian print. "Any other questions?" She asked.

"Do you have wifi?" Sam asked as he looked up from the file.

"Of course," Rosie said, "I couldn't live without it! Password is Destiel, D-E-S-T-I-E-L, all caps."

"What kind of language is that?" Dean asked.

Rosie smirked, "It's an internet thing. There are these books, and it's this relationship that the fandom is all over. I mean, I never understood the other ship, not that it wasn't hot... gross, but hot, but I was a fan of Destiel from the first book they showed up together in." She headed for the door.

"What books are those?" Sam asked.

"It's this little cult series," Rosie replied, opening the door, "it's called Supernatural. Funny how you boys share the first names of the main characters." She smiled then pulled the door shut firmly as Dean and Sam stared at each other.

Destiel? Sam and Dean thought at the same time.

Dean was confused, "We've never met anyone named Destiel."

Dean shrugged and Sam thought as he wrote the password down. Then he laughed, because, of course, it was so obvious.

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Chapter Text

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A Rush Of Blood To The Head : Series One

Episode Four: Just A Kiss

Part Three: Cinderella*

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The coroner's office and crime lab were in the building to the right of the police station. Sam and Dean had just pulled into a parking spot across the street. Dean cut the engine and the two watched a tall, gangly man walk into the building sipping a cup of coffee.

"So who are we going to be today?" Sam asked his brother.

Dean leaned over and opened the glove box to show all of their fake IDs, "Sasquatch's choice."

Sam gave Dean a mild bitchface, then leaned forward and sifted through them, "How about not FBI?" He suggested, "We do that all the time."

"We have the CDC," Dean offered.

"That wouldn't exactly make sense. Here," Sam picked out two press passes from the bottom of the compartment, "reporters. We'll use Rosie's name in vain." He handed Dean one of the passes, "We can be from one of those new age rags that Rosie sends stuff to, wanting to know more about those marks. Like, if they were occult-ish or something." He pulled a small spiral notebook and a pen from the glovebox to take with him.

Dean shook his head. "Whatever man." The elder Winchester took the keys out of the ignition before the brothers got out of the car and crossed the street. Once they were inside, Dean and Sam introduced themselves to the pretty brunette with thick black-rimmed glasses.

Dean leaned on the counter of the desk and turned on his charm when the girl looked up from the solitaire game she was playing. "Hello miss?"

"Hannah, Hannah Callahan. What can I do for you?" Hannah was beaming at Dean, his charm obviously working.

"Well I'm Keith Townshend and this is Pete Moon. We're from Crystal Temple Magazine. We were wondering if we could speak to the coroner. Our friend Rosie Carlyle told us that we might have a lead on a good story here."

"Rosie! I love that girl! Dr. Gallagher just got back from lunch." Hannah pointed to the set of doors to Sam and Dean's right. "Go through those doors and Dr. G will either be in his office, which is the first door on the right, or in the autopsy room, second door on the left."

Dean winked at her as he pulled away from the counter. "Thanks Hannah."

Hannah giggled and blushed as Dean and Sam took off to find the coroner, who was indeed in his office.

Sam knocked on the door, and at the muffled, "Come in!" the Winchesters entered the man's office. The two recognized the man as the one they saw enter the building when they were parked across the street. "Can I help you gentlemen?" The man asked.

Dean smiled, "Doctor Gallagher," he said offering his hand, "I'm Keith Townshend, and this is my partner Pete Moon with Crystal Temple. We're friends of Rosie Carlyle."

"Ah," Gallagher nodded and shook Dean's hand and then Sam's. "Rosie did mention two buddies of hers would be dropping by. Please, sit."

Dean and Sam sat down in the two chairs in front of the desk, "Rosie told us you had some unusual deaths lately," Sam said hurriedly as Dr. Gallagher sat down himself. "We were hoping you could tell us a little bit more about them. Our boss wants to run a story about mysterious and unusual deaths. We're not looking for personal information, just, what made them unusual enough for Rosie to throw us the lead."

"Well," Gallagher said clasping his hands together on the desk, "I know that Rosie was very interested in some unusual markings on three suicide victims. But they were pretty clear cut suicides."

"You get a lot of suicides around here?" Dean asked.

"No," Gallagher said slowly, "but I wouldn't call their deaths mysterious or unusual, they just jumped off buildings."

"Rosie told us it's been one jumper a week for three weeks," Sam said, taking out the spiral, "all with the same brand and all on a Thursday. That's a little unusual."

"Yeah, so, about that mark," Dean interrupted, "do you know what caused it?"

"Well, they seemed to be a brand of some sort," Gallagher replied, "I wasn't sure until I could look closely."

"Rosie said the mark was a heart and a crown with hands?" Sam asked, looking at his spiral.

"It was hands holding a heart with a crown on it," Gallagher corrected him, opening a file on his desk, turning it around and pushing it towards them, "here, have a look."

Sam leaned over, as did Dean, to see the same pictures they had seen at Rosie's place. The crowned heart was just as obvious as it had been before.

"Hunh," Dean said.

"Were there any other unusual deaths around here?" Sam asked, "Any old mysteries? Our boss wouldn't mind if we dig up old history."

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After hearing a few old tales the coroner had remembered, the Winchester's returned to Rosie's condo.

"I'm thinkin' pizza," Dean announced after inspecting the refrigerator.

"I was hoping for something a little more healthy," Sam replied, opening one of the cabinets.

"If we're going to check out that club," Dean said, studying the take out menus on the fridge door, "you won't have time to cook. Besides, wouldn't Rosie get mad if you burned the place down?"

Sam huffed, "I'm a better cook than you think Dean" and closed the cabinet door. "And I'm not so sure we should go to the club tonight."

"Why not?" Dean asked, reading the take out menu for someplace called The Pizza Palace.

"Because we still don't know what we're up against," Sam replied as he leaned against the counter. "We could be targeted just by walking in there."

"Or we might end up finding what we're looking for." Dean picked up the phone, "I think the risk is worth it."

"You realize that we're talking about a place that three men went to before jumping off buildings. And we have no idea who or what is responsible," Sam said with his this-is-fucked-up bitchface.

Dean shrugged. "We'll just have to watch each other's backs then."

"That's it, 'we'll just have to watch each other's back?'" Sam said and threw up his hands, "You're incredible."

Dean brow furrowed, "What's with you? Why are you so against this?

Sam shrugged, "I just don't want to have to explain to Rosie why a pair of panties that weren't hers were in the guest bedroom."

Dean thought about what the hell his brother was talking about, then it remembered, "One time dude! That happened one time!"

"Yeah. In my bed. I just got under the sheets after taking a shower and found that girl's panties in my bed. Among other things." Sam shivered.

Dean smirked evilly.

Sam threw his hands up, "Fine, we'll go. But we need to keep safe, Dean."

Dean's face went blank, "Fine, grab some condoms from my bag."

Sam's regular bitchface appeared before practically yelling, "That's not what I meant, Dean."

The older Winchester rolled his eyes, "I know, I know. Don't worry, we'll be fine," Dean told him.

"Do you want me to list the number of times we weren't fine after you said that?" Sam asked, "It's like asking 'what's the worst that could happen?'."

"What do you want me to say, that I won't drink or hit on any hotties?" Dean demanded.

"I already know that I can't keep you from drinking or flirting,"Sam replied dryly. "Let's stick with you won't drink too much, and you'll try to focus on the job"

"Deal," Dean said, "I won't drink too much and I'll try not to get my flirt on."

Sam closed his eyes and sighed, "Thank you." He straightened and walked over to the fridge. "Oh, sushi!" He reached for the menu.

"Sam," Dean's tone was heavy with warning, "if you think I'm going to eat raw fish you really don't know me at all." Dean dialed the number for The Pizza Palace.

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The club was called The Rodeo, and was located on the river. There was a large parking lot that was already over half full when Dean and Sam arrived. "Wow," Dean commented.

"Let's go," Sam said, "remember, be careful Dean."

Dean slammed his door in response and headed for the club. Sam sighed and followed, closing his door firmly.

There was a line of sorts outside the club, but not so long a line that Sam felt that they'd be waiting for hours. In fact, it was moving fairly quickly, with the occasional pause. Sam amused himself by reading the rules that had been posted by the door, "Hey Dean, check this. 'The Rodeo is a place for all people, leave your prejudice at the door'."

"Ok," Dean said slowly, "so, gay club?"

"Not on your life," said a girl standing in front of them, "I've been to the one in Mobile. The Rodeo is a non-discriminatory club, anyone's welcome to come and dance but if you can't handle that, you'll be asked to leave. They've got clubs all over the East and West Coasts, they're just now starting to spread inward."

"Really," Dean said, attention caught by the girl, "a friend recommended the place, what kind of music do they play?"

"Depends on which one you got to," the girl told them, "this one has this band, Twisted Temple, that plays every night, as of three weeks ago." Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, "They play more rock and pop music, but the last one I went to the band was more country."

"That's cool. Oh, I'm Dean," the elder Winchester informed her then pointed his thumb at his brother, "this is Sam."

"I'm Laura," the girl replied. "Welcome to the Rodeo."

Sam blinked as he realized that their conversation had carried them to the door. They paid their covers and headed in.

The Rodeo looked typical for a club, large dance floor, scattered tables, bar, but the stage was what caught Sam's attention. Especially the singer. She was a seemingly fragile girl with a powerful voice that became clear as they moved further into the club.

"You were looking for a knight, you were dreaming of a prince
But in the end, you've learned to look beyond
He won't be charming, he'll be no one's prince
He may never be a knight, but he'll love you."

"What kind of music is that?" Dean asked abruptly.

Sam elbowed him, "Go get a beer and don't worry about it," he told his brother, "I'm going to look around a bit."

"Be careful," Dean called after his brother.

"Your momma told you
He would find you
So keep on dreaming
Cinderella
Keep on dreaming Cinderella"

Sam headed towards the stage, wanting a closer look at the singer. He was skirting the dance floor as the song ended.

There was a sudden, horrible sound over the speakers and then a crash.

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Chapter Text

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A Rush Of Blood To The Head : Series One

Episode Four: Just A Kiss

Part Four: See Me, Feel Me*

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Sam made his way to the stage to find the bass player seizing on the ground. "Call 911," he yelled at the lead singer. She nodded and immediately pulled out her white cell phone from her back pocket and started dialing.

Dean had put down his beer bottle when he heard the crash and went running towards the stage. He got there just as Sam stuck a credit card in the guy's mouth. The younger Winchester looked up at his brother with a shocked expression. Fifteen seconds later the bass player stopped seizing. Sam checked for a pulse, but there was none. He glanced at his brother, sighed and shook his head. Dean nodded towards the door and the brothers took off.

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The next day the Winchesters went back to the morgue.

"Oh, hello again Mr. Townshend, Mr. Moon. What can I do for you?"

"We were wondering about the bass player that died at The Rodeo last night," Sam said.

"Ethan Chase, age 24." The coroner shook his head, "The poor boy. He died of asphyxiation due to seizure. This case doesn't seem to have anything to do with the ones you came to seem me about yesterday," he said, puzzled. Then Dr. Gallagher paused and looked deep in thought for a moment, and perked up all of the sudden. "Now, wait a second. That ring! I would have never thought of it if you two boys hadn't come back!"

Dean cleared his throat, "Ring? What ring?"

The tall, gangly coroner got even more excited, "Chase was wearing this ring, I'm pretty sure it matches the brand marks on the suicides you two asked me about yesterday. It's in the evidence locker down the hall, along with the rest of the things found on the kid. It's out the door and to the right. Just tell Officer Marks that you're friends of Rosie's, and he'll sneak you kids in for a peak."

Sam nodded, "Thank you Dr. Gallagher."

"No problemo!" The coroner said cheerfully.

The brothers exited the autopsy room and went to the evidence locker.

"Officer Marks?" Sam asked the young red-haired man.

"Yup, that's me. And who are you?" Officer Marks asked, looking between them.

"I'm Keith Townshend and this is Pete Moon," Dean leaned in, "we're, uh, friends of Rosie's."

The young officer's eyes widened briefly, then he his cheeks turned a light pink. "What case you need to look at?" He whispered.

Sam moved in and whispered back, "We wanted to see Ethan Chase's personal effects. Could you, maybe, help us out?"

Officer Marks checked to make sure nobody was coming, then winked, "Sure thing. I'll buzz you in." He pressed a button then a buzzing sound went off and the gate to the evidence locker clicked open.

Dean and Sam looked around to double check no one was coming, then went through the gate. Officer Marks led the pair through the stacks of boxes to the one that held Ethan Chase's belongings. He picked up the box from the shelf, then carried it to the table at the end of the row.

Officer Marks gestured towards the box, "There you go, guys. Make sure you put everything back where you found it."

Dean gave a nod, "Will do Officer." When the officer was gone, Dean and Sam began sifting through Chase's personal belongings. "Ha ha! Found the ring!" Dean looked like he was a five year old who just found the prize at the bottom of a cereal box.

Sam gave Dean his are-you-fucking-kidding-me? look, "Good for you Dean."

Because Dean was Dean, he just had to open the little plastic evidence bag and dump ring into his palm. When the ring hit Dean's skin, his eyes went wide. Dean dropped the little evidence bag and said, "Oooo, shiny." He suddenly had the uncontrollable urg to put it on, and before Sam could tell Dean to stop, that's exactly what he did.

"Dean! What the hell? That could be the thing that is killing these people, and you just put it on? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Dean looked up at his gigantic brother with puppy-dog eyes and said, bashfully, "It was just so shiny."

Sam wanted to hit him. Correction, Sam clenched his fist like he was going to hit him. But he didn't. Instead he continued searching through the box while Dean kept looking at the ring. Sam found nothing and told his brother it was time to go, which snapped him out of his fixation. Sam put everything back in the box and told Dean to put the ring back.

Dean tried to take the ring off, but "It won't come off!".

"Well, put your hand in your pocket or something and let's go."

"Oh, yeah, like that won't look suspicious," the elder Winchester hissed.

Sam huffed, "Fine. Just pray Marks doesn't see it."

They left the evidence locker quickly, but purposely. They'd been at this long enough to know that running or seeming to otherwise be in a hurry would only attract more attention. "Did you find everything all right?" Marks asked.

"Yes," Dean muttered as he slowed his step.

"Thanks for letting us look," Sam said. Then frowned, because Marks barely looked at him, the officer only watched as Dean moved away. "We just got a call from our editor," Sam added, "I hate to leave in such a hurry, but he wants us to get him something as soon as possible."

"Right," Marks replied absently.

Dean turned down the corridor and Marks looked at Sam, "Would you tell Dr. Gallagher we said thank you, please?"

"Sure thing," Marks glanced down the hall again, then looked back down at his desk.

Sam gave him a curious look then hurried after Dean. They left the building, went back to the car, and drove back to Rosie's.

"Something was up with Marks when we left the evidence locker," Sam said when they entered the condo.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked as he plopped down on Rosie's couch, still trying to get the ring off.

"He couldn't take his eyes off you," Sam replied, "it was like I was invisible." He wandered into the kitchen, "You should try hot water, I'll see if there's any grease."

"How do you know so much about getting stuck rings off fingers?" Dean asked, "You don't wear rings."

"I'm the one who lived with his girlfriend for over a year," Sam replied, "Jess used to have this ring she loved, but always couldn't get it off. I was," he stopped, "I was going to have is resized for her that Christmas." It amazed him sometimes how he could not think of Jess, just live his life, and then wham, he would be blindsided by the ache of loss. It wasn't as strong as it had been, but it was still there. "Hey, maybe we should call Cas. He might be able to mojo it off."

"Might as well give it a shot. Dear Castiel, Angel of Thursday, get your feathery butt down here and get this damn ring off my finger!"

"My butt isn't feathery Dean." Cas appeared on the opposite side of the coffee table in front of the couch.

Dean jumped slightly as the angel suddenly appeared at the edge of his vision, then glanced up to find the angel looking at him in a more intense stare than usual. Dean narrowed his eyes, "Cas?"

Cas swallowed, "Dean I," he paused and swallowed again, "Dean I, I..."

Dean sighed heavily, "Spit it out Cas, you're kind of freaking me out a bit."

Cas swallowed yet again, then the look on his face became reminiscent of the one the angel had years ago in the den of iniquity. "Dean, I ... have a sudden and very powerful urge to ... kiss you."

Dean wasn't sure he had heard Cas right, "Come again?"

"I want to kiss you." Cas shook his head and looked to the floor, "I'm sorry, I don't know what's come over me. I don't even know why I would want to do such a thing." He met Dean's eyes again, this time his expression needy and hopeful, "But, may I?"

A sudden clatter broke through their concentration, and Sam, who had dropped the can of beans in the sink on accident, flushed, "Sorry, sorry. Uh, don't mind me," Sam said, starting to head for the door, "I'll just, uh, get some fresh air." Sam's hand was a foot from the door handle when yelled at him.

"SAM!" Dean shouted, "Don't you dare! Cas, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"I, I don't know," Cas said staring at Dean, but he looked just as puzzled as the hunter felt.

A thought dawned on Sam from where he hovered by the door, "The ring! It must be the ring!"

Cas squinted his eyes but never took them off Dean. "Ring? What ring?" Dean, looking agitated, held out his hand, and Cas tore his eyes away from Dean's lips, "Oh, uh oh. So that's where that went."

"'Uh oh'?" Dean got up off the couch, "What do you mean by 'uh oh'? And what do you mean 'So that's where that went'?"

Cas returned his gaze to Dean's lips, "All I know is that type of ring is called a claddagh. And that specific ring was created by some of the cupids." He licked his lips again. "I can't remember why. But I believe it carries a curse."

"Of course it does," Dean muttered. "Can you get it off," he asked, not hiding his agrivation.

"I can try." Cas took Dean's hand. He had intended to try to take the ring off, but ended up caressing and staring at Dean's hand in wonder instead.

Dean shifted his feet, uncomfortable with the contact, "Uh, Cas? Could you, I don't know, take the damn thing off now? !"

"Hm?" Cas looked up, "Oh, right, yes." Cas tried to pull the ring off, but was unable to.

"Uh, Cas, what's the holdup?" Dean asked.

"It appears I can't remove the ring, Dean." Cas licked his lips slightly and went back to caressing Dean's hand again.

The whole even-the-angel-of-the-lord-can't-remove-the-damn-r ing thing freaked Dean out. With a great deal of effort, the hunter removed his hand from the angel's clutches.

Sam cleared his throat, "Cas, I think you should go and find out what you can about the ring."

Cas stared at Dean as if he hadn't heard Sam speak at all. Dean nodded, "He's right," he said gruffly. "Go see what you can find out, ok? I want to get this off now."

Cas was hesitant.

"Dean," Sam said, "get out of his line of sight, I want to see something."

Dean backed up quickly, almost tripping over his feet as he walked around the furniture As Dean was leaving, Cas made a weak grabbing motion towards the hunter. Dean, however, was able to make it safely to the guestroom and shut the door. Cas exhaled suddenly.

"Cas," Sam said, and the angel finally looked his way. "Please go, see what you can find out about this ring."

Cas looked ashamed. With a rustle of feathers, the angel was gone.

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Chapter Text

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A Rush Of Blood To The Head : Series One

Episode Four: Just A Kiss

Part Five: Beer For My Horses*

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"Sam," Dean growled as he paced around the loft holding a beer, "tell me you have something."

"Just that claddagh rings are from Ireland and are meant to be tokens of friendship, love, or marriage," Sam replied, gesturing to the laptop. "I haven't found anything about a cursed ring legend though, at least not amongst the Irish. I'm not sure where else to look, I mean, it's kind of hard to track down the Cupids on the internet."

"Great," Dean snapped, "and in the meantime, I'm going to be eye candy for every he, she, he-she, she-he, or it in the city until we can get this thing off me." He pointed at the ring.

"What I don't understand is why I don't seem to be affected," Sam replied. "I mean, there was the guy at the evidence lockup, the pizza girl, and even Cas. I seem to be the only one who isn't gaga over you."

Dean scoffed, "Just be glad you aren't, man. Or we'd be making some Supernatural fans very happy."

Sam shook his head, but lifted his beer to Dean in an indication of agreement; he had to give Dean that one. Then he paused as he was about to take a drink, "Wait, what? Dean!"

"What?" Dean asked.

"You really have no brain to mouth filter, you know that, right?" Sam put his beer down.

"What did I say?" Dean asked, honestly not knowing what he did wrong.

"Do you really want me to spell it out?"

Dean shrugged, "Well I am asking."

Sam rolled his eyes, "You implied that if I were affected by the ring, you wouldn't be running from me, you'd be, an active participant."

Dean's eyes widened, "NO! That's not what I meant. I just meant the you wanting me part, not the me wanting it part." Dean thought about what he just said and gagged. "Oh dear God. Let's never, ever mention this conversation to anyone. Ever. Can, can we just forget this ever happened?"

Sam shivered, and that was enough of an answer for Dean. "Awesome," he said sarcastically before taking another swig of his beer.

"Look," Sam said, "I'm going to go call Rosie. She might know of a place around town where I can do some more research."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "And you have to leave to talk to her?" he asked accusingly.

"I just want some space," Sam replied, closing his laptop, "besides, if I'm not here, then she won't be able to laugh at you on speakerphone."

"You wouldn't," Dean said, stepping back.

"It would be a just revenge for the comments you'd be shouting while I was trying to talk to Rosie." Sam informed him then finished his beer. He tucked his laptop into his bag and headed out the door. "Remember, if you need anything call me. I don't think we can trust you to go outside."

"You've been saying that for years," Dean retorted as Sam shut the door.

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Sam sighed as he headed down the stairs, because only Dean would end up with a cursed ring. He fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed Rosie's number.

"Rosie the Riveter, we work hard to screw you lose."

Sam was confused. "I'm sorry?"

"Who is this?" Rosie asked.

"Sam," he informed her.

"Sammy! I'm so sorry, I thought you were my boss. He's been on my ass about this assignment. How are things going on your end?"

"They could be worse," Sam conceded as he reached the Impala.

"But they could be better," Rosie agreed. "No luck then?"

"We may have found what made those brand marks," Sam told her as he got into the car.

"Yeah?" Rosie asked. "Hold on."

Sam could hear Rosie talking to someone in the background, it sounded like she was getting take away from somewhere. "Anyway, so what's making the mark?"

"Have you ever heard of a claddagh?" Sam asked.

"You mean a claddagh?" Rosie asked giving the word a slight twist, "A friendship and love ring, seriously? Damn, I knew the design looked familiar. It has to be cursed somehow."

"Yeah, well," Sam cleared his throat, "Dean put it on. After that, it being cursed was kind of obvious." His words picked speed to keep her from interrupting, "It seems to make people be attracted to him, but not me. I mean, I'm not attracted to him. And it's weird, they stare at him and won't notice me until Dean's out of sight. Like no one exists except him."

"Is he there?" Rosie asked, "because I have a few choice words to give to the dumbass. Putting on a ring that you know nothing about," she added under her breath.

"No, he's not here" Sam informed her. "I was hoping you would know a place nearby I could go and look up more on the claddagh."

"Firstly, your pronunciation is horrible," Rosie told him, "and secondly, I know someone who can help you."

"You do?" Sam questioned.

"I know a guy who knows someone, but first I have make a phone call, get you the passcode, that sort of thing. I need to call you back, ok?"

Sam nodded into the phone, then winced at the idiocy of that. "Sure, Rosie, thanks. I appreciate the help."

"Not a problem Sammy. This is what we do, right?"

Sam's response was cut off by the beep of Rosie hanging up. He looked down at his phone and smiled. Rosie had a thing about goodbyes, 'Long goodbyes give the enemy time to aim' or some such nonsense.

Sam's phone rang, glancing down at the display reading A Princess. He smiled and answered the call, "Yeah Dean, what do you want?"

"If you're done having phone sex in the car," Dean said, "we're out of beer."

"And?" Sam asked, drawing the word out. He looked up to see Dean standing at the window of Rosie's living room, looking down at him.

"You need to go buy some. Rosie's out." Dean told him bluntly, waving an empty bottle of beer.

"Why do I need to buy beer?" Sam retorted, "You should drink water, it's good for you."

"You're buying beer because I can't, remember? You said 'anything I needed'," Dean said in a teasing tone.

Sam got into the car and shoved the key into the ignition. "Fine," he sighed, putting his best put upon tone to work. "Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean retorted. "And make sure it's real beer, none of that light crap."

Sam hung up and could practically hear Dean call him a bitch another time when he looked up at his brother again.

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The nearest alcohol source proved to be a gas station three blocks from the loft. Sam grabbed three six packs, a coke and some chips as he walked around the store. The station attendant, one of those blue collar men that littered the South and probably spent his weekends hunting whatever was in season, rang him up without really looking at him. Sam was pulling out his credit card when the phone rang.

Sam handed the card over and answered the phone, "Dean, I'm just about to leave." Sam heard another voice in the background.

"Better hurry, Sammy" Dean swallowed audibly, "Cas is back."

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Dean hung up the phone, and in a blink of an eye, Cas had moved from four feet away to two inches in front of Dean's face.

Dean's right foot moved back a step. "Uh, Cas, mind moving back a few, yards?"

Cas swallowed. He looked terrified. "Dean, I believe my, urges, are even greater than they were previously," the angel said, starting to slide his hand up Dean's arm to where the handprint was. His hand print.

Dean freaked out, and backed up holding his hands up in front of his chest. "Whoa, there angel-boy. Take it easy." Dean continued backing up, and ran into none other than Cas who had angel-zapped behind him. Cas immediately reached around Dean and pinned the hunter's arms to his chest. "Jesus, Cas!" Dean exclaimed. Cas planted kisses on and nuzzled Dean's neck. When Cas moaned softly, it snapped Dean out of his shock. The hunter began the futile effort of trying to squirm out of the angel's hold.

Cas spun Dean around and held the human's face between his hands. He licked his lips, "Dean, I want you." Dean held up his hand to cover his mouth just in time for Cas to kiss it instead of his lips.

The door slammed open and Sam shouted, "Cas!"

Dean felt Cas's lips leave his hand as they both looked over and took in the sigle drawn in blood on the door, just as Sam slammed his bloody hand against it.

Cas vanished and Dean removed his hand from his mouth. "Sam! What the hell, dude?"

"First thing I could think of," Sam replied with a half-shrug and panting. "I thought it would buy us some time."

"You- you banished Cas," Dean said, stunned.

What the hell? "Uh, yeah, Dean, I banished Cas. What was I supposed to do, let him kiss you?"

Dean thought about that for a moment, then looked a little bashful, "Oh. Right. Yeah, good idea." He shook his head to get the images out of his mind, "So," he reached for a subject change, "did you get me any beer?"

"It's in the car," Sam said forcefully, like Dean was being a retard for completely ignoring what just happened, then winced a little, "back at the gas station."

"You left the beer?" Dean roared. After what just happened, Dean really needed his beer.

"I was in a hurry," Sam snapped back. "I'll go get the car, just give me a second."

"You left beer, in the car, in a parking lot? A gas station parking lot?" Dean yelled, "Do you know what kind of kids hang around those kind of places?"

Sam tried playing all innocent, "Uh, yes?"

Dean hissed through clenched teeth, "Go. Get. Beer. NOW!"

Sam ran out the door like a terrified puppy.

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Chapter Text

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A Rush Of The Blood To The Head : Series One

Episode Four: Just A Kiss

Part Six: Lips of an Angel*

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The next day, Dean was idly flipping through channels when Sam came out of the bedroom, "Ok," he said, "talked to Rosie again. She's given me the information to meet the guy who might know something. I'm going to go check that out. You have beer, you have chips, and you have pizza. You should be fine until I get back."

"Whatever," Dean replied sulkily. He was still mad about the fight they'd had over him going with Sam.

"I was told to take a cab, so I'm leaving the car here. Don't turn your phone off, I'll call you if I need you." He turned and headed out the door.

The cab was waiting when he left the building and Sam smiled, "Hi, I need to go to 32 Maple Avenue, please."

"No problem, Chuck," the man replied.

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise, but leaned back and buckled his seatbelt. It was always different in a cab versus riding with someone he knew, there was a touch of privilege in the ride, but also a kind of loneliness. Sam shook his head a little as the cab stopped, "We're here," the cabby said, "that'll be twenty-two fifty." Sam pulled the cash out and handed over enough for a nice tip as well. That done, he slid out and crossed the sidewalk to a store called 'J-Row Books'.

Sam let himself in and looked around. The store was filled with books, but there were some occult items mixed in, adding a touch of the unusual to displays and decorations.

"Can I help you?" The woman at the counter asked, bringing Sam out of his thoughts.

"My name is Sam Winchester," Sam said as he walked forward, "I was sent by Rosie. She said that I could get some help here."

"I am Susan," the woman replied with a smile, "Solana and I will be happy to do anything we can to help you."

Sam took a deep breath, "I'm looking for information about Cupids, and a cursed claddagh ring."

"I'll show you what we have," Susan replied, stepping away from the counter.

The brunette woman moved in a casually graceful manner that Sam noticed more for the economy of the movement than for its subtle beauty. "What kind of Cupids?"

There are different kinds of Cupids? Sam wondered. "Uh, the Judeo-Christian-Cherub-third-class-naked-adult-mal e kind," Sam said, absently brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Right," Susan smiled, "I think I have what you need." She headed into the stacks and returned with a book. "Here," she said as she held the book towards him.

Their fingers brushed and an odd, almost pained look, drifted over face for a moment.

Sam took the book, "Are you ok?"

"Fine," Susan told him, "you said you were also looking into cursed claddagh rings?"

"Uh, yes ma'am," Sam replied.

"I have something for that as well," Susan said. "If you go through that curtain, you'll find a reading room."

Sam looked at the curtain then back to her. He nodded and told her, "Thank you."

The reading room was a rather cozy area, with comfortable chairs around a table and a couch. Sitting on the couch was a brunette woman reading a book, "Hi," she said when Sam paused in the door, "don't mind me. I'm just waiting for my next appointment."

"Right," Sam said, and sat down at the table and dived into the book.

He was more than halfway through the long Cupid entry when Susan came into the back, "I found it," she said. Sam jumped to his feet, startled by her arrival. "I'm sorry. It took some time to find it. Solana, your client is here. Shall I send him up?"

The other woman sighed, "Sure." She sat her book down on the end table and vanished through a door.

"Solana reads tarot," Susan told him. "Mostly for tourists."

"Oh," Sam replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

"She protects me," Susan continued, "people look at her to be the psychic."

"But she's not?" Sam guessed.

"No," Susan shook her head. "I only give advice to those who need it most. You are one of them, Sam Winchester."

Sam jaw hung open.

She walked over towards Sam, "Hear these words, and know their message," Susan continued, her words taking on a sepulchral tone that sent shivers down Sam's spine. "The Love will be pulled to where the Soulless end. The Lonely One will find love again. Whole once more you will cross paths with the Wise Bones and those that love them."

"Ok," Sam said slowly, "I'll try my best to remember that."

"Whatever," Susan sighed. "Now, I think what you're looking for is The Claddagh Curse," Susan said, as if she had never spoken so oddly. "It's in this book, which isn't for sale, no matter the price," she gave him a pointed look.

Sam accepted the book, "Uh, thanks. I promise I'll return it before I leave."

"I know you will," Susan grinned.

Sam grabbed a seat at the nearest table and opened the book. He began to read, skimming pages. After a few minutes, the Winchester finally found the section he was looking for. As what he read sank in, Sam wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or to cry. Instead, he closed the book and shook his head.

No way is Dean going to believe this one.

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Dean could not believe how bored he was. Rosie had one television an it was in her bedroom. Her living room looked like a cross between a lounge and a dining room, with the reading nook in the corner. He'd already checked over the bookshelf, finding it to contain the complete Supernatural series, along with some other random scifi and fantasy books.

With nothing else to do, he got out his leather journal, almost identical to his dad's, and began to update it with a few of the things they'd run across since the last time he'd been forced to stay in one place. That would have been when Sam broke his ankle a few months prior, the clumsy Sasquatch.

"Dean."

Dean jumped at the sound of the broken, strained, hoarse voice that no matter what, the hunter would always recognize. As fear warred in his heart, Dean stood up, "Cas?"

The angel stood behind him, about four paces back. It was, Dean thought, one of the few times Cas had respected the concept of personal space. Though that concept was violated pretty quickly as the angel zapped in front of Dean.

"Dean," Cas swallowed, "I came to see if you had successfully removed the ring. But, I can tell you haven't because I, now that I'm near you again, I just," Cas tried to find the right words. He shook his head, his eyes were pleading and pained, "I need to know what your lips feel like; how your skin tastes; what it's like to hold you in my arms." The angel inched his way closer to Dean, leaning in to kiss him, "I need to know what it's like to be inside of you; to have you inside of me."

This time Dean heard his little voice loud and clear. It said one word: Hot.

Dean tried to shove Cas away, but was unable to. Instead the angel slammed Dean into the wall, pinning the hunter there by his biceps, forcing Dean's arms to just hang at his sides. Then Cas snatched the hunter's top lip in his.

After a moment, Dean shut his eyes and touched his bottom lip to Cas's, kissing him back.

But then there was a clink as the ring hit the floor. Cas suddenly pulled away, their lips making a little pop as they separated. The angel looked more terrified than Dean had ever seen him. And with a flutter, Castiel was gone.

Dean stood there for a few moments, confused and in shock at his own actions more than the Angel's. Eyes wide, Dean wiped his lips before his eyese landed on the ring. He bent down to pick it up. Staring down at it in his hand, dumbfounded, went back to the reading chair and sat down heavily. Just then, Sam came barging through the door.

"Dean, I found out how to get the ring off, but," Sam's eyes fell on Dean, then the ring in his hand.

"Hunh?" Dean looked up at Sam. "What were you saying?"

Sam shook his head, "Uh, I found out how to get the ring off."

Dean nervously asked him, "And?"

Sam cocked his head, "Well, it's off. Doesn't really matter now, does it?"

"Humor me Sammy," Dean barked.

"Well, apparently, the ring will come off when you kiss your true love."

Dean swallowed. What? he asked himself, his voice tiny in his own head. "Well, uh, this thing just fell off." Dean smiled nervously, "Guess it realized I don't have a true love and decided to not waste its time on me." He laughed weakly and glanced from the ring back to his brother.

"Think we should call Cas to," Sam got cut off.

"Gabriel, Gabriel, wherefore art thy angelic ass?"

There was a flutter, "You rang, meathead?" Gabriel said snarkily.

Dean tossed him the ring. "Destroy this." Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Please," Dean added.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, "Fine," he pointed at Dean, "but only because of the show you and my brother have been putting on." Gabriel winked and was gone.

Dean slowly met Sam's eyes, hoping that his younger brother was not going to ask. Of course, Sam smirked at him a little and did so: "Show?"

"Uh, as in all of the chasing of me Cas has been doing, probably." Dean looked away from and then back to his still smirking brother, "Just, shut up bitch."

"Make me, jerk," Sam retorted. "Don't worry, I won't tell Rosie what almost happened on her guest bed. Though, she'd probably would have wanted all the gory details." Sam shivered.

"What?" Dean asked.

Sam looked away and tried to contain his smile.

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/-/-/

As they headed out, Dean said, "So, what was with the ring anyway?"

"It was made by a cupid," Sam replied, "for an old Irish family. Their daughter was refusing to marry because she wanted her 'one true love'. The ring was meant to force her to choose or die."

"Die?" Dean repeated.

"When the ring was made, it was pretty much a mother by sixteen or never a mother at all in a lot of places." Sam replied, "That's how the world worked back then. The Cupid, however, made the ring do more. It was meant to find a person's 'one true love' or soulmate. It made the wearer irresistible, but conversely, if the wearer kissed someone who wasn't their soulmate, the ring would drive that person insane, and/or to suicide."

"Nice," Dean commented sarcastically.

"Exactly," Sam replied, equally sarcastic. "I don't know how Ethan Chase got the ring, but I bet if we were to go looking, he'll have a string of lunatics and suicides behind him since he put it on. Each wearer had a different time frame for when they themselves were killed, usually based on the nearness of their soul mate. You're lucky it just 'fell off' when it did."

"It fell off," Dean assured, "I didn't do anything."

"Right," Sam scoffed, "I believe you."

"I'm telling the truth." Dean insisted.

"I believe you. You didn't do anything." Sam muttered under his breath, "You just let Cas do all the work."

Dean growled and snapped on the radio. The window rattling lyrics of You Give Love A Bad Name made it impossible for either of them to say anything.

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