#detective!cas

Dean’s heart picks up speed and the monitor beeps in rhythm.

Cas startles awake. Dean freezes as Cas blinks a few times and focuses on him.

Dean doesn’t know what to do. Does Cas know who he is? What he does? He must, right? If he found Dean. If he saw his black clothes and his equipment - his lockpicks, his glass cutter. None of which Dean sees in the room.

“You’re safe,” Cas says, leaning forward. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips that Dean doesn’t understand.

Dean swallows. “Am I under arrest?”

Cas hums, “Did you want to be?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Dean frowns. He has no idea what is happening here.

“You have to quit,” Cas says. “That’s my only condition.”

“I... Huh?”

“It’s non-negotiable.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about Cas - er, Detective.” Dean clears his throat. “I am an upstanding citizen.” At Cas’s flat look, Dean amends, “Starting now.”

Cas drags his chair closer. “Promise?”

“Yeah.” Dean shrugs. “This was going to be my last shot anyway. I should have quit a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?” Cas is so close, within reach, chair pulled right up to the side of the bed. Dean could touch him, if he just...

“Don’t make me say it,” Dean says.

Cas’s lips twitch. Another smile. “Say what?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Come on, Cas. You know I don’t... Well, how are we supposed to say goodbye?”

Nodding, Cas reaches out. He places his hand at the edge of the bed, so close to Dean’s, but not touching. “Maybe we don’t have to.”

“You just told me to quit.”

“Not that, Dean.”

Dean has an idea what he really means, but he’s not about to voice it and be wrong. “What do you mean, then?”

“Go on a date with me,” Cas says, so confident for a moment, before he falters, starts to pull back. “Not that... If you’d rather not, it’s fine. I’m not going to... You don’t have to.” He’s withdrawing his hand, and no. No.

Dean catches it, lacing their fingers together. His heart’s racing, the monitor betraying him, but Cas is smiling at him all sunshine and rainbows. It’s hard to be embarrassed when all he wants to do is finally kiss him.

“I caught you, Dean Winchester,” Cas says, leaning close.

And Dean smirks. “I think I caught you first, Detective Castiel.”

For the next two hours, Dean reluctantly went over his case files with his new partner. Dean had been juggling newbies for the last six months since his last partner, Benny, transferred from the homicide division to fraud when his wife told him she was pregnant. Now he had his hands full with a rookie detective and one with a weird name at that.

Castiel was awkward at best as Dean watched him interact with people, just over the phone. He looked at his new partner, a confused look on his face.

“My people skills are rusty,” Castiel shrugged, placing the handset back in the cradle.

Oh this ought to be a fun fucking day, Dean thought to himself.

The rest of the day was spent running down a couple of fresh leads that had come in on a recent murder investigation. Dean spent the entire day trying to figure out how this guy got out of bed in the morning without hurting himself. He was clueless. His tie was crooked and turned ass backwards. Every single time he badged someone, the damn thing was upside down. Dean sighed as he called in their dinner break and they sat down at a local joint that had great burgers.

“Listen, I’m not saying you don’t know what you’re doing, but how come I ain’t heard nothing about you before today?” Dean questioned his new partner like he would a perpetrator.

“Cash. Now! Empty it!” A loud voice boomed through the small storefront just as their food was delivered. Dean waved the server to hide and he reached his hand down to unholster his weapon, flipping the safety off as he surveyed the scene.

“Hey, cover me,” Dean whispered to Castiel as he slid from the booth, his eyes never leaving the criminal at the cash register. Quick and sure footed, he moved stealthily until he was right behind the would be thief. “Police, put your hands up and no one gets hurt, okay?” His gun was pressed into the man’s back.

“I don’t think so, pig,” the man disagreed, his voice cocky for a man who had a gun pointed at him.

“Lawrence PD. Don’t move and I won’t have to hurt you for resisting arrest,” Dean informed him. Just then he heard the distinct sound of shotgun cocking.

The cashier stood wide eyed, a wad of cash in his hand as he looked from Dean to the gunman, to what Dean assumed was another gunman behind him.

“Lawrence Police! Drop the weapon and put your hands behind your head!” Castiel called out.

A shot rang out, followed by another. Dean fell to the ground, a burning sensation running up the back of his leg and into his right butt cheek. “Son of a bitch!”

Before Dean could register what happened, Castiel had cuffed both perps, the second one bleeding from a gunshot wound to the left leg.

“What the hell?” Dean looked from Castiel to the cuffed men.

“My people skills might be rusty, but I graduated at the top of my class. I’m good at what I do,” Castiel smirked.

“So, I guess I owe you an apology, huh?” Dean said to Castiel as he was being loaded into the ambulance.

“No apology necessary, Dean. A thank you would be nice, though,” he smiled, his bright blue eyes shining in the fading sunlight.

“Hey, Cas? I’m sorry, and thanks,” Dean shook his head, not sure how he had read his new partner so wrong.

“We’re partners Dean. I will always have your back, or in this case, your backside,” Castiel smiled as the medic closed the door, not missing the look of confusion on Dean’s face.

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