http://bondsprofoundly.livejournal.com/ (
bondsprofoundly.livejournal.com) wrote in
inonebasket2011-11-19 06:00 pm
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This was not how Castiel had wanted to reunite with Dean Winchester. In fact, now that he was at that point, Cas wasn't sure he'd wanted to reunite with Dean Winchester at all. Guilt sank heavy and uncomfortable in his stomach and he was still getting used to the intensity of feeling.
He'd thought things were confusing as an angel. Twenty times worse with a human ticker pumping away in his chest.
Still, there wasn't exactly an option of running when the only exit was prowled by the Leviathan just beyond the door, held at bay only by the wards Cas had carved into the wood and accented with blood from the gash clotting on his forearm. He checked the shells in his shotgun (useless), the bowie knife against his thigh (also useless) and finally, finally looked over at Dean, not sure what he was going to see.
He'd thought things were confusing as an angel. Twenty times worse with a human ticker pumping away in his chest.
Still, there wasn't exactly an option of running when the only exit was prowled by the Leviathan just beyond the door, held at bay only by the wards Cas had carved into the wood and accented with blood from the gash clotting on his forearm. He checked the shells in his shotgun (useless), the bowie knife against his thigh (also useless) and finally, finally looked over at Dean, not sure what he was going to see.
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Cas glances at the stain on the floor, hefts his duffel and takes the keys from the table. "I'll return these to the desk." And they missed checkout time. Cas had to very quietly insist that a maid get the fuck out of the room when she tried to clean up.
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Cas throws his bag into the trunk, closes it, slides quickly into the front seat and turns to Dean. "We should go."
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"They know we're here, don't they."
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Pause.
"Also, I refused to pay for a second night's stay. The sun hasn't even set."
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Do tears of laughter count as crying?
"Right. Right, okay." There, he's very nearly composed. Dean coughs, getting himself back under control and starts the car. Wow. Just. Wow. He's still half smiling when he merges onto the highway.
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Because that is a damn good town to swindle some money in and Dean's funds are starting to get a bit low.
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"Okay. Important question. Do you know how to play poker?"
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Dean's lost his third hand in five minutes when he decides enough is enough.
"Here's the deal. We're running out of money. Poker and pool are as good a way to rake in the cash as any. So you run a few hands of poker while I shoot pool. We do this at a couple places, and we'll be set for a while." A couple weeks at least and god, Dean wishes he could still use his stolen credit cards.
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It's a hit-or-miss strategy, and Castiel manages to hit big. When Dean comes to check up on him, Castiel has managed to rack in over ten thousand dollars in chips.
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On the downside, it means people are starting to look at them a little funny, so Dean leans over Castiel's shoulder, patting his back. "C'mon, genius, let's get out of here before you clean out the house."
This isn't just contributing financially. This is a downpayment on a freaking house.
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Cas glances up at Dean, feeling pretty proud of himself, but obediently scoops his chips into a bag provided by the house and hands them over to Dean. "This should cover my expenses for the past two weeks."
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Dean's 'good place' turns out to be a strip joint set a little bit away from the bustle of the rest of the city. This doesn't, however, make it any less loud, seeing as the DJ has the bass turned up high enough to rattle bones. But Dean seems to like it, flirting openly with the topless waitress who seems torn between flirting back and slapping him.
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"Dean," Cas shouts over the music, "I fail to understand the purpose of this entertainment." See, he gets the brothel, he gets it; that one is about the carnal act of copulation and the euphoria-inducing hormonal bursts that come along with the stimuli. Here, though, the only stimulus is visual, yet the viewers are still paying the dancers.
Is it art? Cas never gets art.
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Dean's idea of fun is terrible. Really terrible. But hey, he's paying for the drinks and lots of them, intent on enjoying the hell out of getting sloshed.
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