Title: Nothing and Everything

Chapter 26

~~~~~~~~~~

With Sam and Gwen finally out of the house, and Jack with Ellen for the evening, Jo and Dean set to work with the computer. “Why haven’t they sent our order,” she asked, rechecking the date they’d ordered and other pertinent data. “It should have shipped like two weeks ago.” She couldn’t find anything on their account page that said why their order wasn’t there yet. “They charged our card. They better damn well send the order.”

Dean covered the mouthpiece of the house phone with a hand. “They did send it, but it was returned because it didn’t have the PO Box listed.”

Turning her head, she stared at him, confused. “But…last time they sent it to the house and we don’t need the PO Box to get our regular mail. The PO Box is for business. This is regular mail. We have both. It doesn’t need the freaking PO Box number because regular mail comes to the house.” They’d gotten the PO Box to deal with mail from jobs and other hunters, along with the house phone. After a lively discussion and advice from Bobby and Rufus both, they’d all agreed it was the best system.

“I know, I know.”

This was an annoying snag to their plans. It was a good thing Sam and Gwen weren’t on the ball with the honeymoon plans or Jo and Dean wouldn’t be ready for it when it happened. Their last order had been the saloon girl costume and a few other more risqué items Dean had thought they needed. This order was all risqué items and needed to be here fast in case Sam and Gwen arranged a honeymoon in the next few days for next week. Not probable at the rate they were going, but distinctly possible knowing those two. Jo knew Gwen was fully capable of throwing together a vacation in a day if they got the notion they had to leave right away.

“Who randomly decided to send it to our PO Box instead of the house address?” And why did the company have their work PO Box anyway? “Did you give them our box number or something?”

“I didn’t give it to them,” he told her, looking as puzzled as she was by that. “Personal stuff stays personal.”

“Who did?”

“You don’t think Sam and Gwen ordered something do you? Had it sent there so we wouldn’t know?”

Jo actually considered that a minute. Would Sam and Gwen have something shipped to the PO Box just to keep Jo and Dean from knowing they’d gotten something risqué? “I don’t think they’d bother trying to hide it if they did.” Sam was the one who picked up the box mail though.

“Maybe they…yeah,” he jotted something down on a piece of paper. “Uh-huh…great. They’re gonna overnight it. Should be here tomorrow…what?…hold on a sec.” He covered the mouthpiece again. “Apparently ’Star Whores: A New Grope’ is on backorder. Do we still want it?”

He was serious. Jo scrolled through their order on the screen until she got to it. He’d really ordered it. She slid a glance towards him. “That was totally your purchase, Dean. How badly do you want it?”

He blinked. “Mine. Right.” He returned to the call. “Yeah, send it when it comes in….mm-hmmm…sounds great.” Again, he covered the mouthpiece. “For the trouble and because we’re some of their best customers --”

“You’re one of the best customers,” she corrected. He’d been a customer of that company for years.

“--they’re including a free pair of edible panties. What flavor do we want?”

“You decide.”

Dean leered and winked at her. “You’re such a good woman. Cherry it is.” When he hung up, he leaned back in the chair. “Should be here tomorrow afternoon. I’ll get them out of the house with an errand then. You grab the boxes when they get here and put them in our room.”

She really didn’t think that was necessary. Sam and Gwen wouldn’t say anything about yet another box from that company showing up in the mail, or if they did say anything, it wouldn’t be more than their usual comments. Dean was insistent, however. He thought one or the both of them would figure out the plan if they saw too much. “If you keep them out long enough, I can separate the order, too.”

“How’s phase one coming?”

Jo didn’t comment on his choice of words. “I’ve saved up a few magazines.” Mostly the ones Gwen made the most fun of.

“Excellent. If everything shows up tomorrow, we’ll be ready.” He clapped his hands together once. “What’s say we go for a drive? Cruise the back roads a bit?” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

They hadn’t gone for a drive just to go for a drive in awhile and the idea sounded fun. It was a nice evening, the weather not quite as hot as it could be. “Sure. Why not?”

A short while later, Dean parked the car and turned in the seat, his arm along the back. “So….” They were on one of the loneliest back roads in the area, the car sheltered somewhat from the road by clumps of bushes. He was apparently in a frisky mood if his expression was any indication, both devilry and anticipation in his gaze.

“So?” Jo tucked her hair behind her ear and slid a flirtatious sidelong glance his way.

“So.” Dean shrugged his brows and slid closer.

“So….” She licked her lips and had approximately five seconds before Dean’s mouth was on hers in a kiss of blistering intensity that took way Jo’s ability to think clearly.

One kiss led to two, then three, and more, and Jo was breathless when Dean pulled back a fraction and jerked his head towards the backseat. “What’s say we recline?”

Recline? Oh, he wanted to get in the backseat. “Sure.”

Dean’s enthusiasm should have been infectious. Jo should have forgotten where they were and everything else. She tried to relax in the backseat. Really she did, but she couldn’t. Jo was half afraid that every car that passed was Jodie and getting caught by Sam and Gwen last time was more than enough. She didn’t need the law catching them, too. “Dean….”

“Mmmm….” His hand worked the buckle of her belt and she covered his hand with hers.

“Let’s go home.”

“Home.” He raised up, studying her. “You want to do this,” he twirled a finger in the air, “at home?”

“Yeah. At home.”

He gave her a strange look, like he wasn’t sure where she was going with that suggestion, then his expression smoothed out and he nodded. “Okay. We’ll go home and do this.”

Half an hour later and back in the back seat of the Impala, Jo shifted position, reaching behind her back and removing a pacifier that had apparently been wedged between the seat back and cushion and loosened enough to wedge between her back and the seat. She tossed it onto the floor, making a mental note to take it into the house and sterilize it later. Or just throw it away. Depended on what it looked like and how long it had potentially been stuck between the cushion and seat back.

Dean had taken her suggestion to mean they stay in the car in their driveway and make-out instead of how she’d really meant it: going in the house and doing it in comfort. She’d forgotten just how uncomfortable the backseat of a car could be, not to mention she felt stupid doing this in their own driveway. “Dean, I feel stupid.”

He nuzzled her neck and ran an enthusiastic hand along her side and hip. “You sure don’t look stupid,” he murmured.

“We’re not teenagers anymore,” she protested, though if she told the absolute truth, it was a little exciting making out in the car with him. Uncomfortable physically, but thrilling nonetheless.

“Mmm…” His hand slid beneath her shirt, fingers lifting her bra in a smooth, practiced motion. “We certainly aren’t. The advantages of being an adult….”

“I think we’ve passed the make out in the car phase.”

“Sure.” His breath against her ear made her shiver a little.

“Not to mention we have a perfectly good house we could be doing this in.” She touched his back, grasping his t-shirt in both hands.

“Mmm hmm….”

He kissed her and for a few long seconds, Jo lost her train of thought. “I just feel stupid because…we’re in our own driveway.”

Sighing, he raised up a fraction and looked down at her. “You’re the one got freaked out on the back road and suggested we do this at home.”

“I meant in the house, Dean.”

“I specifically asked you if you wanted to do this at home, indicated around the car, and you said yes.”

“I meant --”

“In the house.” He nodded. “Okay. We’re here now though….”

Dean increased his persuasive attentions and they were both nearly naked when lights turned in the drive and a car approached.

“Crapsticks,” Jo hissed, suddenly sure it was her mother having decided to bring Jack home early for once. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? She tried to disentangle herself from Dean and hit her head on the window in the process. Rubbing at the aching spot, she sat back on the seat and slouched down.

“Who is it,” Dean whispered, sitting up to see out the back window. “Is that Sam and Gwen? What are they doing back so early?”

Jo grabbed his arm and turned it to see his watch. “It’s after ten.”

“Huh. We’ve been back here awhile.”

She went to put her jeans on and realized it would be impossible to do without the occupants of the other car seeing her. “This is your fault,” she hissed.

“You’re the one wanted to come home.” He peered out the back window again. “Duck down, they’re getting out.”

“Please tell me it’s not Sam and Gwen,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut.

“It’s them, but they went in the house.”

“They didn’t see us?” Relief coursed through her like a heady rush.

“Doesn’t look like.”

She opened her eyes, pulled her jeans on, and looked at him. “Why do I let you talk me into doing these things? I’m not sixteen. I’m a grown woman. I have self-control. I used it a lot in the past.”

“Because I am just that good,” he replied with a wink, fastening his own jeans and reaching for his t-shirt. “And we’re married. You can talk me into things, too.”

He had a point. Being married to him opened up a willingness to do things she’d turned down in the past -- like the dressing up thing he continued to want to do. She put on her shirt, slid her feet into the flip-flops she’d had on and opened the car door. “All right, let’s go in.”

She led the way to the house.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam took Gwen’s hands in his, thumb rubbing across the rings on her finger, and wondered what Jo and Dean were up to. They had to be up to something. They’d both been a little too insistent that Sam and Gwen take off for a couple hours. Jo had been downright pushy to get Gwen in her fancy dress and Dean had made restaurant reservations for them.

He thought maybe he and Gwen should try and get in tune with the romantic setting, yet the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “You have any idea what they’re up to this time?”

Gwen shook her head. “Not a clue, though I suspect it’s probably a sex thing.”

“Me too. Another role play with costumes maybe.”

“No, I don’t think so. Jo would want to make sure we were hours away, not just going to be gone a couple hours. She’s a little paranoid someone will walk in. I may have contributed a little to her paranoia in that regard.” That little curl of a grin on her lips indicated she’d likely contributed a lot to that paranoia with her teasing on the subject.

He shrugged. “They could have done it in the privacy of the upstairs.” ‘It’ certainly had a couple different connotations right there.

“True. Hmm….” Her eyes narrowed. “I have no idea.”

They veered from the subject, discussing cases, then moving on into other topics and after a long dinner, they went straight back to the house. Sam was looking forward to stretching out on the couch with her and watching a movie. He turned off the car and reached for the door handle.

Gwen laid her hand on his arm. “Wait a sec.”

“What is it?”

“Look at the car.” She pointed at the Impala, a gesture under the line of the window. The windows were steamy and Sam thought he saw first Jo’s, then Dean’s face, in the back window.

“Are they…. Are they in the car?” Why would they be in the car and not in the house?

“I think so.” She smiled slowly. “They’re in the car.” Her grin turned naughty. “We could totally go do that ourselves.”

“Do you want to find a back road? It has been awhile since we’ve done that….” He shrugged. “I’m game if you are.”

Gwen leaned over, kissed him, and looked at the Impala. “I guess not. A bed’s more comfortable anyway.” She ran a finger along his jaw.

“Let’s go in the house. Don’t even glance at them, okay?”

They walked in the house like they hadn’t noticed the steamy windows on the Impala, made a show of calling out, and when Jo and Dean came through the kitchen door a few minutes later, Sam at least managed not to smirk. Gwen on the other hand… Her smirk was enough for the two of them.

“Oh, there you are.” Gwen’s tone was amused. “We were wondering where you two went.”

“Took a walk,” Dean said, reaching in the fridge. He handed one out to Jo, took one for himself, and stood.

“Was it a good walk,” Sam asked, that smirk he was trying not to loose, slipping free.

“Oh yeah.” Dean slung an arm around Jo’s shoulders while she opened her beer and took a long swig.

They all nodded and Gwen cleared her throat. “Jo?”

“Yeah?”

“Your shirt is both inside out and backwards.”

Jo’s cheeks turned a rather deep shade of red and she blinked, glanced down at herself, and took another long swig from her beer before replying, “It’s a new fashion trend.” She nodded. “Big in Milan.”

She might not even be lying about that. Jo was the one who read the fashion magazines and kept up with trends, buying all the sorts of magazines Gwen liked to mock.

Dean sniffed, looked down at Jo, and back at them. “You saw us, didn’t you?”

“We did,” Sam admitted with an apologetic glance at Jo. She wasn’t paying attention however, too busy drinking down her beer. “We weren’t going to mention it.”

“Uh-huh. Not until a proper time of reflection had gone by on how best to tease us about it.”

Gwen pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m hurt by that assumption, Dean.”

“Is it true?”

“Maybe just a teeny bit.” She held her thumb and forefinger apart about an inch.

When Jo was done drinking, she set the bottle on the counter. “Okay, it’s two embarrassing moments to zero. You two really need to even this up and do something to embarrass yourselves.”

He looked down at Gwen. “Well…you could open our bedroom door at random moments until you catch us naked or something.”

“Doesn’t quite have the embarrassment potential as my two embarrassments, Sam. Needs to be something really scorching or two half-scorching moments.”

He could see how she might think that. “When you come up with a suitable equivalent, let us know. We’ll, uh, take care of it.”

“Definitely. Can we not,” she gave Gwen a pointed stare, “make a deal out of this?”

“Sure.” Gwen shrugged. “What adult in this room hasn’t gotten caught going at it in the backseat of a car in their own driveway before?”

Sam raised a hand. “I haven’t.” Gone at it in the backseat of a car, yes. The other part, no.

That naughty gleam returned to Gwen’s eyes when she looked up at him. “Virgin,” Gwen replied. “We’ll have to take care of that.”

“When did you get caught,” Jo asked.

“Not long before Samuel showed up, actually. The guy was Terry Hanon, third date. Christian sauntered out to the car and knocked on the window, asked if we needed anything. Offered to get condoms for us. Wouldn’t go away until I threatened to shoot him. The mood was sort of killed by all that, as you can imagine.”

Sam remembered that story. It was one of the first ones Christian had told him. He’d laughed about how he’d managed to scare off a good for nothing who wasn’t right for Gwen. “Sounds like Christian.” He went into the living room, calling over his shoulder, “What were you two up to anyway? Aside from backseat gymnastics, I mean. You were awfully insistent that we leave. Research? You get a case?” At the computer, he shook the mouse. A screen appeared that looked to be some sort of account statement. He had about ten seconds to peruse the screen before Jo shut the monitor down. What he saw in that glimpse wasn’t surprising. In fact, it sort of explained the whole backseat of the car thing. Dean and Jo were ordering adult products again. He was beginning to wonder if Dean was single-handedly keeping that company in business.

“We were doing some research,” she said.

He stepped back, relinquishing the area to her. “Anything we need to know about?”

“No.” She plopped down into the chair and blocked the mouse.

He let the subject go and followed Gwen into their room. Sam wondered how long until Jo actively tried to catch them in some embarrassing position just to even the score.

~~~~~~~~~~

In heaven, Balthazar strolled the hallways, doing a steady search for Castiel in all of the places he knew Cas liked to go. He kept a lookout for Abigael as well. In one busy hallway, he stopped. Stretching out a hand, Balthazar grasped Atropos’s arm as she walked by. “Excuse me, love. Have you seen Castiel?”

She jerked away and glared at him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Sorry.” He wasn’t really. “Have you seen him?”

Atropos pointed down the hall. “In the conference room.”

“Thank you, Atropos. You seem particularly,” he let his gaze drift down her and back up, “tense today.” Like she had two sticks up her butt instead of the usual one stick. Sometimes, normally out of boredom, he was tempted to take her on and see what it would take to make her loosen up. “Care to get a drink later?”

“With you?” Disbelief rang clear in her voice. He might have taken offense at her tone if he’d been human and didn’t have a thick skin to begin with.

“Yes.” He nodded slowly. “That is generally what the wording I used means.”

A suspicious, annoyed glance shot towards the conference room. “Did Lachesis put you up to this?”

Interesting. Was big sis attempting to match-make for the youngest Fate? “Not at all. Lachesis and I don’t talk much.” Though if her reputation was any indication, perhaps he should remedy that. It was rumored that she was quite the party girl after a workday. Why, she’d been flirting with Castiel for centuries. Of course, Cas remained indifferent, ignoring her attempts to get to know him better. “So, a drink?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Tomorrow then.” He could practically hear her frantic thoughts as she tried to think up an excuse not to.

“I have a very busy schedule.”

“I see. Rain check then?”

She was tempted, he could see it in her eyes, but then that stick…or two…returned. Atropos shook her head. “I don’t think so, Balthazar.” Turning, she hurried down the hall.

He watched her walk away, a new project for a future time. What would it take to remove that stick? He filed her away for another day and turned his attention to the task at hand. Stepping to the conference room door, he looked inside and found only Castiel and Abigael there. Perfect. The two he wanted to talk to in the same place. He walked in, closed the door, and plunked the box on the table. “Well?” He made a flowing gesture with both hands at the box. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

They blinked, looked at him with identical expressions of confusion, and tilted their heads in that annoying fashion that was rather dog-like.

“Excuse me,” Abigael asked, barely glancing at the box. “What do I have to say for myself? You’re the one who barged in on a private conversation.”

“If it was all that private, you’d have the door closed.”

She quirked a brow at him.

It was Castiel who looked at the box and stepped closer to the table to study it. “What is this?”

“You tell me.”

He glanced up. “It looks like a power containment box. Why would you think Abigael or I had anything to do with it?”

“Are you serious?” He was frankly aghast that neither of them seemed to know why he was upset. They were either very good liars or genuinely clueless. He thought it might possibly be the latter. “Are you telling me that you have no idea what this means?”

Abigael glanced down at the box and leaned towards Castiel a fraction. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

Balthazar laid a hand on the lid. “I’m talking about the symbols, darling. What else?”

“How should I know?” She shrugged.

“You worked in the library.” That reasoning made sense to him. Having never worked there, or spent much time there if he could help it, he naturally assumed all the librarians had access to all the knowledge.

“And?” Abigael crossed her arms. “Can you try for some coherence, please? I need to return to my charges sometime this century.”

Castiel stretched out a hand and nudged the box. “The point, Balthazar.” He frowned, pushed Balthazar’s hand from the box lid and picked it up, looking it over fully. “Is this the box Sam and Dean have been working on?” His glance flicked to Balthazar. “It is, isn’t it?”

“See! You knew all about it, didn’t you?”

“You stole the box from them?” He sighed. “Take it back. Put it exactly where you found it.”

“I will not. It’s dangerous. Your precious humans are playing with things they know nothing about, or at least should know nothing about. Obviously, they do know.”

“Balthazar,” there was a trace of impatience an Castiel’s voice, “what exactly are you accusing us of?”

“You gave Sam and Dean Winchester the symbols to use.”

“How did you reach that conclusion?” Abigael began to look amused, as if his conclusion was absurd.

“Who else would give them the knowledge? Not I, and I certainly don’t see Uzziel doing that, unless perhaps he had a chance to meet with Ellen.”

“I’ve never given them anything I wasn’t sanctioned to.” Abigael crossed her arms. “And I find your willingness to believe I did insulting.”

“Oh, boo-hoo.”

Castiel set the box down with a thump. “The Alpha Trickster accused Gwen’s father Aaron of using one of these to take a piece of his power. He was right. Gwen found the box in one of their storage units. It was smashed in her accident, but I’m sure pictures and measurements of the pieces were taken as part of that investigation. Bobby and Dean are thorough. That’s where the information came from I’m sure.”

“And where did Aaron get it?”

“Books,” Abigael suggested, then uttered a laugh that had no amusement in it. “Now I see where your accusation of me being responsible came from. You know, just because I was a librarian, doesn’t mean I had access to everything. You’d know that if you ever went in there.”

“Touchy. I assure you, however, that these symbols were never in any human books.”

Castiel avoided his gaze, as if he knew differently and didn’t want to mention it, piquing Balthazar’s interest in the topic. Why would Cas feel the need to keep that a secret and what book could it have been in? “Not to mention neither of us was on earth when Aaron was alive.” He shook his head. “I thought you knew me, Balthazar.”

“I do. That’s why I assumed it was you. They are your pets.”

“Friends,” Castiel corrected.

“Same difference.” He waved a hand in the air. “So where did this Aaron get the information?”

“He was a very smart man. A genius by their standards.”

“Not this smart.” He pointed at two symbols. “Look at these. Really look at them. They’re Enochian. They’re ancient Enochian at that. Specifically, the very first form of Enochian before it evolved with time.”

Abigael was watching him with interest. “And how would you know that, Balthazar?”

He paused. What exactly should he say here? That he’d learned what he could on that front in case he either needed to cover his ass or take down another angel or creature without killing him or her? That he’d seen other angels use the knowledge on occasion? All of those were true. “It’s a hobby.”

“You have a theory on where he got them?” Castiel looked strangely uninterested. Bored even. Balthazar thought he would have been raring to get at the truth of this since he claimed not to be involved.

“Well, if it’s not you two, and it’s certainly not me or books…. Was Gwen’s father a Watcher? Or the offspring of one? It wouldn’t surprise me if they kept the knowledge alive. It was their thing after all.”

Abigael pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “They’ve been quiet for centuries. Michael thought they’d died out. He came in the library once looking for bloodline information on the last one we still had information on.”

“He wasn’t a Watcher or descendant of one. We traced the bloodline on that side of Gwen’s family back over two hundred years. There’s no evidence.” Castiel’s voice remained bored, flat.

“Did he perhaps know one? The information had to come from somewhere.”

Castiel took a few steps to the left, then stopped. “Think about the obvious answer, Balthazar. Gabriel. He was on earth all that time. He’d do it if he thought the Trickster was getting out of control in some way or had the potential to. It makes sense. The Trickster himself is the very thing he brings justice upon: arrogant, smug…. Poetic justice.”

The explanation didn’t quite seem right, but he nodded anyway. Something was definitely up with Castiel and Abigail. They were both not behaving like themselves. Balthazar again wondered why. “Look, wherever it came from, this is a disaster in the making. If Sam and Dean know the symbols, know what each means, how they work together, and have the words to complete the ritual…. It’s too much power in their hands. Don’t you see that?”

“It’s to contain the power from a Trickster, Balthazar. How is that dangerous in the way you’re suggesting?”

That neither one of them knew about the symbols continued to surprise him. “Because once they know all of that, if they know the words and symbols for other creatures, they can use it on them as well.” He raised a brow and made another point. “Or they could use it on us. You’re all for balance and order, right?”

“Of course,” Abigael said. “Along with every other being in the heavenly tiers.”

“Then this should really interest you, because if they have that knowledge, they can take down whole chunks of the monsters in a fell swoop without ever really dirtying their hands. They can make them powerless. Completely so. How would that keep balance and order?”

“They don’t know what the symbols mean or what the words mean,” Castiel assured him, but be didn’t sound so certain himself.

“Are you willing to trust that with Death hovering around lately blathering on about balance and order being kept? If I were you, I’d do a little checking and neutralize whatever threat they could be to all of us before he steps in to fix things and you know what his methods usually entail.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Castiel said with a glance at Abigael that seemed to have a bit of weight to it. “You need to return the box, however. Sam and Dean can’t realize it was taken.”

Balthazar crossed his arms and studied them with narrowed eyes. “What’s going on here?”

“What do you mean?” Abigael tucked her hair behind her ears.

“I mean this, darling. The hushy-hushy meetings you’ve been having, the secretive looks, the cagey manner…. I’m not the only one who’s noticed. What’s going on? Why the secrecy?”

While Castiel looked like he was going to break, Abigael moved to stand beside him, slipping her arm through his. It was a suggestive pose, bringing to mind tousled sheets and stolen kisses. “What do you think is going on, Balthazar?”

He was meant to believe they had something going on, like a tawdry human sort of affair with all of the things that pose bought to mind, but from those two, he didn’t quite buy it. As he’d noted earlier, Castiel was impervious to feminine charms and aside from her initial crush on Castiel, Abigael had never seemed interested in that type of behavior. They were both obsessed with doing their jobs, so therefore, it had to be something with their jobs. Who did they work with and could he get information from them instead?

Raising one hand, he flicked a finger back and forth from her to Cas. “You two?”

“Are you so surprised? Really?” Abigael rested her cheek against Castiel’s shoulder while he did that almost embarrassed glance about the conference room he tended towards when avoiding a subject.

“I’ll take care of Sam and Dean, Balthazar. You do your own job --”

“Cas and Abby. It does have a nice ring, I suppose, but…aren’t you her superior, Cas? You naughty angel you.”

He drew away from Abigael, picked up the box and shoved it at Balthazar. “Put this back and return to your own work. There’s nothing going on.” With that proclamation, Castiel pushed past Balthazar and was gone.

Abigael followed.

Really, Castiel should know by now that saying that to Balthazar when there was obviously something going on was like setting a match to dry timber. He’d figure out everything as quickly as he could manage to. He thought for long minutes on Castiel and Abigael’s coworkers. Who had both been seen with recently? Death, of course, and…the Fates. Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos.

An idea formed and he smiled slowly before taking the box back down to earth as he’d been commanded to do.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Sam?”

He turned off the dremel and looked over at the stairs. “Yeah?”

Gwen appeared, waving a hand in the air. “Kicking up an awful lot of dust.”

He wasn’t, but she was fishing, trying to figure out what he was working on. He’d cut the wood in the garage and he and Dean had done most of the construction there. The inner lead lining had been trickier, but they’d figured it out. This here were finishing touches. He swiped a cloth across the wood. The designs were looking good. “I’m almost done.”

“Coming up soon?”

“Sure. Have you narrowed down where you want to go?”

She’d been pouring over cruise brochures, Bobby and Jodie’s cruise pictures, and asking both of them a ton of questions. She ought to be an expert by now. “Caribbean. Cozumel, Ocho Rios, Grand Cayman. I found a couple good deals…. It’s a little later in the season, but there are a lot of things to do, good options.”

“Great.” He kept the cloth laid on the box and smiled.

“What do you think? If you’re not wild about that, we could do a Hawaiian cruise instead. Or there are other options open, too.”

“Whatever you want. I don’t care where we go.” When she crossed her arms and pursed her lips, he realized that was the wrong thing to say. Sam decided maybe he shouldn’t take Dean’s advice to try to keep her happy all the time. All that did was piss her off.

“Okay. Shopping and couples spa treatments it is. For two whole weeks.”

“You don’t like shopping and, as far as I know, you don’t care for spa treatments either.”

Gwen shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one said we should do new things on our honeymoon and since you seem to want me to pick everything out, we can go on shopping excursions and spend all our time in the spa.”

He blinked. “Gwen….”

Her brows rose. “Yes, Sam?” Her reply was sugary sweet.

He heaved a long sigh. “I’ll be up in five minutes to look at the list of excursions with you.”

“Thank you. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? Why have you been dragging your feet on this? You’re the one suggested a cruise and you’re making me plan it alone. Honeymoons are for husband and wife last I checked.”

“Dean said a good marriage is keeping the wife happy,” he admitted. “I want whatever will make you happy.”

“Ahh.” She crossed her arms, tongue pushing out her cheek for a second. “Dean’s words of wisdom.” Nodding like it explained everything, she added, “Our marriage isn’t going to be like Jo and Dean’s, you know. None of our relationship has been like theirs. They each plan things by themselves and boss the other into doing it and love every second of it. Us though…. I want us to plan things together, like we already do, not to mention, we won’t always be happy with each other. You know that. It’s unreal to try otherwise.”

He did know that. Jo and Dean did things their way (often impulsive) and he and Gwen were different. “I know, but, uh, if you really want to shop and go to the spa…I’ll do it.”

“Noted. I’ll pass on shopping since I’ve heard it’s a lot of jewelry anyway and since you give professional level massages, I doubt I’ll need the spa.”

“Give me a few minutes to clean up and I’ll be up.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

The basement door closed behind her and Sam opened the notebook he’d used to build the box. It had specific measurements, a particular wood, and diagrams of the symbols and the placement on the box. Sam and Dean were going Trickster hunting. While the bit of magic had saved Gwen in that car, there was still the matter of him threatening her and Sam wasn’t going to let that slip by without discussion.

Aaron’s journals were a fascinating read. Sam looked forward to finishing them. They were the very sort of information they’d been looking for, the sort their dad had kept only more detailed. In them were bits of esoteric lore on creatures Sam had never heard of before. A treasure trove. If their dad’s journals had been regular college level stuff for them, then Aaron’s were advanced, PHD level.

He’d skimmed until he’d found the passages on the Trickster and memorized what he’d learned before handing the book over to Dean to also memorize. They knew the incapacitating spell Aaron had created and used, what part of it connected to what part of the creature, and what pieces could be left out if he wished to converse with him -- which he did. There was quite a bit of discussion Sam wanted to have with the Trickster.

What they didn’t know was what the symbols on the box meant. The spell was clear, the box wasn’t. Sam thought it was dangerous information to use and not know what it was, yet Aaron had used that combination successfully. It should work, right? He still thought Balthazar could have told him what they meant. Why hadn’t he? Sam wondered on that. He’d noticed that sliver of alarm that crossed the angel’s face in a split second. If it was really dangerous though, wouldn’t he have stolen the box or something? That seemed like Balthazar’s way of doing things. Instead, it had remained where Sam had put it.

Gwen’s biological father had had a brilliant mind. He’d looked at things in ways Sam had never thought to. Reading and studying his writings was like apprenticing with the Stephen Hawking of hunting. Sam almost wished Aaron was alive and could teach them all some of those things he’d worked out in person.

Finished cleaning the area, he headed upstairs. Gwen had printed out a list of excursions for each of the stops on the cruise she was interested in and they worked through the list, checking things they might want to do so they’d have a prepared list of options when they saw the travel agent.

~~~~~~~~~~

They knew. They had to know. Dean had already been suspicious at the hospital and it had been a couple months. Definitely long enough for Dean to begin putting things together if he had enough of the pieces. Did he have enough of the pieces?

Castiel headed to earth and what he assumed was his fate. He materialized in the garage on Dean and Sam’s property, finding the two waiting, standing side by side.

Dean began talking immediately. “Cas, great, you’re here.”

That didn’t sound like they were about to kill him. He glanced about the garage and didn’t see anyone but them, no other individuals or beings. “I am.”

“Take a look.” Dean held out the box.

He supposed he should be thankful Balthazar had followed orders. “It’s a box.”

Sam was staring at him, hands in his jeans pockets. It looked like a casual pose, except the tension that was riding along his shoulders.

“It’s a Trickster box,” Dean corrected. “Remember? The box we were looking for? The sliver of power Aaron took from him?”

Castiel nodded. How could he forget? “I do.” He was careful to refrain from elaborating on exactly what he knew. “What about it?”

“Here’s the thing….” Dean used a finger to gesture between himself and Sam. “We need your help.”

Those words, from Dean’s mouth, were generally guaranteed to get him in trouble somehow. Usually bad trouble. Still, the plan he outlined wasn’t nearly as half-assed as some of his past plans. It did have some alarming elements, such as trusting a spell Aaron Bennett had created while not entirely certain it’d work. The man could easily have made modifications to it as he’d used it.

“It’s a bad idea,” he interjected. “You don’t want to piss off a Trickster any more than you’d want to piss off an archangel.”

Dean’s shrug was nonchalant. “Been there, done that. Sam’s got the t-shirt.”

“Couple of them.” Sam took a step forward. “Are you in, Cas?”

The two did go where others, including angels, feared to tread on a regular basis. They’d do everything from pissing off archangels, demigods, and demons, to poking bears with sticks. He sighed. “Are you going to enact this plan even if I don’t participate?” He didn’t really need to ask that, did he? Of course they were going to go ahead with the plan.

“Hells, yeah.” Dean nodded. “You’d just give us the element of surprise.”

“It’d be a real help of you’d join us, Cas. Like old times.”

Sometimes old times weren’t the ones one wanted to go back to. Not in this context anyway. “I still believe this is a bad idea. If the spell doesn’t work as intended --”

“It’ll work.” Sam sounded certain, smug even and Castiel suddenly felt that same alarm he’d noted in Balthazar. Sam was learning from Aaron Bennett’s journals and he was understanding the things he’d learned. Perhaps Castiel should take a closer look at those journals.

“How do you know?”

“I trust the source.”

A source he’d never met or spoken to. All he had as a character reference were the man’s parents (not the most objective character witnesses) and the knowledge of the lengths Aaron had gone to save his daughter. He didn’t know Aaron Bennett, yet he was willing to use his work, treading into dangerous territory. Castiel nodded. “I’m in.”

Maybe if he was there, he could minimize any damage that occurred.