Work Text:
There's a little girl standing there crying, and if she had blond ringlets on her head and mary janes on her feet Dean would think it's the most obvious trap ever, but she doesn't. She has sneakers and glasses and her hair is tied back in a ponytail that's falling down, and her face is all blotchy the way Sam's gets when he's had too much to drink and is one shot away from proposing to a guy in a leather vest with an "I ♥ my Harley" tattoo. So probably not a trap, Dean figures, because most of the demons he's ever met have been as vain as cheerleaders, and the bad fashion sense is one thing but the blotchy face? probably not.
And also because Castiel hasn't made a move to smite her or anything.
When Uriel's not around, Dean's figured out, Castiel can be pretty decent company; even if he is really fucking weird, with all the intense staring and complete lack of personal space boundaries. They were going to have to have the "bubble" talk at some point, because someone had forgotten to explain the this-is-my-bubble, this-is-your-bubble concept in angel elementary. All that aside, it was fun to watch him try stuff. Coffee had been hilarious, and Dean was tempted to bring a camera with him on this excursion, because Mama Maria made some of the best rhubarb pie Dean had ever tasted, and Dean had tasted a lot of pie.
So there's the girl, sitting there crying and blotchy, and Dean's not all that great with crying women at the best of times, so dealing with a crying girl whose head probably doesn't reach his armpit isn't on the top of his to-do list. Castiel, though, apparently has other ideas, or maybe Sam's disappointed looks every time he and his "brothers" do something (that Sam considers) un-angelic have finally gotten to him or something, because he stops and crouches down next to the girl, and Dean reflexively checks for cops 'cause the last thing they need is for Castiel to get hauled off to the county lockup because some small-town badge with an itchy trigger finger is suspicious of strange men in trenchcoats.
He misses the part where Castiel asks her what's wrong, but he doesn't miss the answer:
"M- my kitten!" The girl sniffles, though she's looking at Castiel with such hope in her eyes it makes Dean feel pretty crappy for not really wanting to stop. "His- his name is Buster and I just got him and I was holding him and he got away and he ran up the tree..."
Dean and Castiel look up at the same time, chins lifting in tandem. Sure enough, on the first branch, sitting pretty-as-you-please is a small grey and white kitten (this had to be a joke, right? because stuff this cliche does not happen in real life, and Dean fully expects the camera crew to jump out of the bushes at any moment).
So then Castiel climbs the tree, which isn't humanly possible but he's not human so Dean supposes little things like the complete lack of hand or foot holds on the trunk don't bother him the way they would bother people who had to obey gravity. And that's when the whole thing goes to hell (except not, and Dean needs to stop using that expression, because it brings up too many things he'd rather not think about, but he's so used to it that it pops out anyway).
Castiel manages to climb down, kitten in hand (that's when Dean knows for sure that he's cheating with the whole gravity thing), and pauses at the base of the tree where the little girl is waiting with a look of rapture on her face; like Castiel is Christmas and her birthday and maybe the 4th of July or something else with fireworks in it, all rolled up into one accountant-shaped package. But Castiel pauses, holding onto the little ball of fur and claws and probably deep-seated kitten rage (Dean is never, ever going to talk about his previous kitten experience), and Dean sees that the tiny cat is rubbing its head against Castiel's hand.
The angel tilts his head at a remarkably cat-like angle and peers down at the kitten, slowly raising his other hand to rub two fingers behind its little triangular ears. The kitten's pink tongue sweeps over the pad of Castiel's thumb, and the angel's mouth drops open a little, the way it does when he's actually surprised by something, and his big blue eyes open even wider. Enchanted, Dean thinks, would be just the right word, if he were inclined to use words that were that girly. But that's the look, right there, and when Castiel looks up at him, all bright-eyed wonderment, Dean feels something in his chest go thump and shit, because Dean knows what that thump is, and it's probably the worst idea he ever had but now that he's had it he can't un-have it again.
Dean says, "Now let's go get that pie!" once the kitten has been handed over, and Castiel agrees, still smiling and open, and when their hands brush together Dean spreads his fingers just wide enough to catch Castiel's more slender ones between them, and the smile gets just a little wider when Castiel looks down at their connected-but-not-entwined hands, and he doesn't pull away.
Oh.
Dean asks Mama Maria for her special ginger ice cream on the pie. He wants to see the expression Castiel makes when Dean sucks the flavor off his tongue later.