A/N: Sorry for the wait guys! I just finished off my semester…Also, because I am smart, I accidentally mixed up chapter 1 and 2 and just had to fix it. -.-'

The weekend seemed to go on forever for the Winchester brothers, both avoiding one another, waiting for Monday to save them. When Monday did come around, both sighed with relief. They did not talk of their tears, or of their sharp feelings, and continued on as if Saturday morning never happened.

For Dean, he felt a sharp pain in his chest when he sighed in relief the moment Sam left for school. He felt like shit for feeling like he did—relief. He loved Sam. He loved him so much, but he could not handle Sam's scrutinizing stare for another minute. So, yeah, he was so relieved. And work? He couldn't get there fast enough. In fact, he got there nearly an hour early.

"You're early, boy," Bobby greeted him as he walked past him to get to his desk, he being the only one there other than Dean. Dean hummed around the rim of his coffee mug, blinking his bloodshot eyes. Bobby frowned. "You okay, son?" The older man asked knowingly, eying Dean like he would fall over any second. In his defense, Dean looked horrible. Red eyes, deep purple circles beneath, and his scruff was more or less looking like a beard.

"I'm good," Dean told him with a yawn, setting his mug down. "I just had one crappy weekend." Dean huffed a dry laugh, shaking his head. "A really, really, horrible weekend. I'm just glad it's over." Bobby's frown grew only deeper.

"You and Sam okay?" Dean tensed then, glancing at Bobby warily.

"That obvious?" Dean murmured and Bobby sighed.

"I've known you since you were in diapers, you idjit. Of course! Now, want to…I dunno, unload? Talk about it?" Dean sighed long and hard, rubbing his sore eyes with both hands, weaving his fingers through his hair. He looked lost, his head shaking slightly, eyes flickering back and forth.

"I just don't know what to do, and that is the honest truth. Sam…My mom…She, I…" Bobby placed one hand on Dean's shoulder, the younger man just then noticing its trembling.

"Why don't you take the day off then, we've got it covered here." Bobby murmured softly, his hand squeezing Dean's shoulder tenderly. Dean smiled at him tiredly, adoringly.

"That won't help none, my brain's just all jumbled…I need to work." Bobby nodded.

"Then how about you go on patrol for a while? Go get some coffee? Go up near 6th street and just plant yourself?" Dean huffed a real laugh then.

"6th street? It's all white picket fence paradise there. The only action is if ole lady Lilith loses "Lucifer" in a stumpy ass tree again!"

"Hey, the cat had feelings too, ya know…claws and all."

"Yeah, I felt those feelings for well over a week. The beast used me as a scratching post! Fricking cat was evil."

"Well," Bobby said, his eyebrows rising, "She couldn't've named him Lucifer because he was a sweetheart."

"No shit," Dean laughed with a nod. "6th street it is then. Thanks Bobby." Bobby smiled warmly, nodding his head towards the door.

"Get out of here, boy, or I'll sick Charlie on you." Dean laughed again, downing the rest of his coffee. Dean collected his things and left, feeling a little lighter, but still extremely tired. Hell, he could probably nap when he got to 6th street, if everything turned out as spick and span as he expected it would be.

Castiel frowned at his reflection in the mirror—at the bags under his eyes. He felt oddly good, something he silently associated it being Monday…the beginning of a new week. Mondays had always seemed like a new beginning to him, so they brought an odd since of comfort…A new beginning. Yeah, that sounded nice.

Castiel sighed and splashed cold water on his face, patting his haggard appearance. His beard had grown out quite a lot, and it made him look older…dirtier. Frowning, he fished a razor from a drawer, turning his face from side-to-side, smiling. A new week—a fresh start. He could do this. This time for sure.

Dean was bored. There was literally nothing to do. The streets were quiet, and he sat in his car listening to the radio. To pass the time he entertained himself by balancing a pen on his cupids bow, head leaned back on his seat. Yeah, he wished someone would go ahead and do something stupid; he would even settle for Lucifer, claws and all. His thoughts seemed to go from his family, his infuriatingly silent pager, and, lastly, to Castiel.

Yeah, Dean was kinda stuck thinking about him…which kind of confused him, to be honest. He was attracted to him that much was obvious, and that wasn't what confused him. Dean had known for a long time that his tastes weren't solely women, and a few men had caught his eye before, but…Castiel? He was a mystery. He was a gorgeous, weird, trench coat wearing mystery, and the more that Dean learnt of his name, the more he wanted to know about him.

For one, who would name their kid Castiel? Seriously? Like, if you wanted to name your son after an angel then why not go for the real name, Cassiel? Why change it? Cassiel meant the angel of Saturday, whilst Castiel meant Thursday, at least that's what Wikipedia had told him. So, was Castiel born on Thursday and his parents somehow abbreviated it to compliment his birth?

Dean chewed on his pen, lost in thought. Thinking of Castiel was so much better than thinking of anything else. He had really nice eyes. Probably the bluest that Dean had ever seen before and they were only a little mesmerizing. Okay, they were really mesmerizing. When they looked upon him, Dean felt at a loss for words, for they gave Dean their open interest. They looked at him like he was something more. Castiel looked at him like he was the most interesting person ever, even if his eyes seemed haunted by his past. It made Dean's stomach flutter in ways it never had before.

Dean opened his eyes, staring up at the roof of his car. Castiel…he had real nice lips too. They were really pink and Dean could only imagine what they would look like if they smiled…if Cas smiled. Dean let the pen roll to his mouth, the man catching it between his teeth. He could feel his face go hot as he thought more about the other man, his focus seeming to zero in on Castiel's mouth.

Shit, he was thinking about how they would taste. Soft and warm…teeth clashing, soft sighs, and—a soft knock on the glass of his car door caused Dean to jolt upright, cursing and burning a bright red. Dean burned even brighter when he came face to face with the man he was thinking about.

"Hello Dean," Castiel murmured softly, a slight smile on the very lips Dean had very recently realized he wanted to kiss.

"Don't do that!" Dean gasped the shock still there. He hurriedly got out his car, running his fingers through his hair and tugging on his pants awkwardly, wondering if Castiel's blue eyes could see what his thoughts were. "God, you appear out of nowhere! You gave me a heart attack!" Castiel frowned, the man looking like a kicked puppy.

"My apologies," Castiel murmured awkwardly, chewing on his bottom lip. He looked at Dean bashfully, his blue eyes twinkling in the sun. "I could recognize your car anywhere, and I wanted to thank you for the coffee." Castiel grinned then, his eyes twinkling even more with mischief. Dean huffed a laugh, eyes brighter than they had been for days.

"That's what that was, then, my promise from when we first met."

Yeah, I'll buy you coffee.

Castiel smiled the brightest Dean had ever seen then, teeth showing. "Yeah," the man said simply and Dean shook his head, still chuckling. "You have a nice laugh," Castiel told Dean and Dean looked at him, blue eyes boring through his green ones.

"And you have a nice smile," Dean told him and Cas' eyes widened with a blush. They were both blushing like a couple of teenagers and Dean coughed awkwardly after a few seconds. "What are you doing here anyways?" Castiel's eyes began to darken then, the normal sadness coming back. Dean frowned at the sudden change, but Castiel ignored him.

"I-I like to walk, and this is the safest area in the whole city." Castiel told him, looking down the calm street. "It's nice here…quiet." Dean nodded thoughtfully, watching Castiel's passive face as he turned to look at him again. "And you? Aren't you usually all guns and glory? What are you doing down 6th street?" Dean huffed a laugh, looking down.

"Long story short, my boss thought I needed to cool my head, so he sent me to watch apple pie life." Castiel frowned, eyes narrowing, and head cocking to the side.

"Why would you need to cool off?" Blue eyes seemed to zero in on the bags under Dean's eyes, and how blood shocked they were, and they widened a bit. "Are you okay? You look exhausted…"

"And you…," Dean countered, trying to change the subject. "You shaved?" Dean blinked at him, shocked. The other man's usually tattered trench coat had been washed, giving Dean a reason to give him a once over. It still looked worn to the bone, but it was actually clean. And his suit looked clean too…the tie still backwards though. "Is that hair gel?" Castiel burned red, patting at his groomed hair. Dean smiled. He looked adorable.

"…I felt better today," Castiel murmured, looking down as he played with the torn belt of his trench coat, the belt finger worn already. "I wanted to…change, per say."

"You look nice, Cas," Dean told him reassuringly. Dean could see how Castiel's ears burned red at his compliment, his fingers still messing with his belt.

"Thank you," The man murmured softly, looking up, smiling. That is, until his eyes looked deep within Dean again, making Dean's stomach flutter. "You averted my earlier question…but I will let it pass, as long as you tell me of you are indeed all right. Truly." Dean blinked at him again, feeling his heart tighten.

"I'm okay, Cas…truly. It's just family issues." Castiel's eyes glazed over at the mention of family, the man seeming to step out of reality in the matter of five seconds. Dean's heart dropped. "Castiel?" Dean murmured and gripped onto the man's right arm. Castiel jumped out of his daze, blinking at Dean like he didn't know where he was.

"Are you all right?" Dean asked slowly, eyes glued to Castiel's unfocused ones, his grip strong upon the other man's arm. After a second or two Castiel seemed to come back, shaking his head and letting out a rather sad laugh.

"I guess I need to cool my head too," Castiel said listlessly, and Dean frowned in worry, his grip on his arm lessening. Dean hummed once, the cop looking down the quiet street, thoughtfully.

"Want to get out of here, then?" Dean asked Castiel, the man blinking at him again.

"But, I thought that you were on duty?" Castiel asked him simply, confusion upon his face. Dean smiled warmly.

"My boss planted me here because he knew that nothing ever happens on 6th street. Basically, he let me have the day off to begin with…So…what do you say? Would you be interested in cooling off with me today?" Dean could feel his ears burn at his question, and at the slow smile that creeped upon Castiel's face.

"Is that a flirtation?" Castiel asked and Dean's face flared instantly. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, coughing once, his ears hot. Castiel looked at him with a smile upon his face.

"And if it is?" Dean asked, green eyes jumping up to gage the other man's expression.

"Well," Castiel said slowly, his blue eyes burning with more life than Dean had ever seen before. He stepped closer into Dean's space, the cop unconsciously taking a step back, shocked when his back pressed against the Impala's sleek black door. "I wouldn't mind another cup of coffee," Castiel finished innocently, seemingly unaware that he was currently invading Dean's personal space quite intimately. Dean gulped with a simple nod, his face hot, and Castiel's answering smile made Dean's stomach do back flips.

God, now that he saw his smile, Dean knew that it would be addicting. The only problem was keeping it there…