Castiel Serendipity

Harvelle's Roadhouse

Dean stripped his clothes and got in the shower first thing when he got home. As tired as he was, he was always happy to spend time with Bobby. Bobby was his father's best friend and Dean's father figure. So whenever he wanted to get together outside of the shop, Dean jumped on the opportunity.

When he finished showering, he dried his hair in a towel and put on a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Hopping in the impala, with nothing else to do, his mind wandered. He wondered if Jo would be working tonight or if she was working days now. Ellen worked all the time, busy as hell, just like Bobby. Dean thinks they would be a perfect match, if it weren't for him and Jo.

Dean and Jo had been a thing on and off for about a year now. But they were off right now. It never ended ugly, just Dean would want someone, something, else. Usually these time periods began when Dean questioned his sexuality. He would meet a guy in a bar and think about how cute the guy was and how his hair would fall into his eyes just a bit where the product began to fail. He would think about the color of their eyes or the way the side of their mouth would twitch upward when they smiled. And then he would tell Jo that he needed some time to think. And by think, he meant hook up with multiple girls to trick himself into being content with heterosexuality. It usually worked for about a month. Until he met another guy and it started all over again.

When Dean arrived at the Roadhouse, Bobby's pickup was already there. He got out of the car and walked inside to the smell of peanuts and liquid courage. He walked up to Ellen and grabbed a bottle of beer for himself. "Hey Dean. How's it going?" Dean opened the bottle in a swift motion and answered, "It's going good down at the shop. We were busy today, figured we'd come by and unwind a bit. How's work here?"

Ellen sighed, "Well, it's about as good as it's going to get. We've been losing business with all those new bars. Did you know there's a thing called Dave and Busters?" Dean laughed and took a swig.

"Actually, yeah. They have these games and stuff in them-" Ellen gave Dean a stern look. "Not that I've been in one. I always come here for a drink," he said with his most convincing smile. Ellen smacked the back of his head.

"I can tell when you're lying." She smiled. "Go have fun, okay? Relax." Dean smiled and thanked her and went in search of Bobby.

When he found him, he was drinking something light in a foamy mug that had barely been touched. Bobby must have just gotten there. "Hey boy," Bobby said. Dean smiled in response. The sat and drank and talked it up until they ran out of beer.

"I'll go get us some more, okay?" Bobby nodded and Dean walked back to Ellen. "Hey Ellen. I'll take another of whatever Bobby was drinking and a glass of whisky." "Sure thing, hun," Ellen said.

"Hey," a soft sweet voice said from behind Dean. When he turned around, he saw a pretty young girl holding two beers, one closed and one half empty. "Want to share one?" Dean smirked and answered, "Of course. Face like yours? Wouldn't want you sitting all alone in a bar like this. Someone might sweep you up and I wouldn't even get the chance to know your name."

The mystery girl smiled, a pretty but strong smile. One that could turn into a firm line and set a man in his place. "It's Lisa." Ellen handed Dean the drinks and scowled at him. She didn't like it when Dean and Jo were off because she disliked the idea that Dean was cheating on Jo. Dean didn't think he was doing anything wrong, they technically were not together.

They walked back to Bobby's table and gave him his beer. "I'm going to go sit with Lisa. Hope you don't mind," Dean said, pleading with his eyes what he dared not say out loud. "Do what you want, idjit. I'll be here. Drinking away your paycheck." Dean laughed but secretly hoped he was joking. He needed every penny to send Sammy to law school. When Dean sat down at Lisa's table, he drank his whisky and jump started the conversation. "So, you don't look like the kind of girl who hangs out at a run down bar for no reason. What's got you here?"

"Well," she started, "I was out with my friends, but they all hooked up with guys and left. However, I have higher standards and better gauges when it comes to guys, so I wasn't about to hook up with one of those sleaze bags. They'll regret it in the morning," she said and they laughed.

"Well, where am I on your gauge?" Dean asked. Lisa smiled and answered, "Hm. On a scale of one to ten, maybe a... six." Dean's face twisted into a look of mock hurt and disgust.

"A six? That hurts," Dean said, and he put his hand on his chest over his heart. Lisa laughed. "Okay, okay. You're like an eight." Dean smirked. "Not bad, not bad. But I still think I can do better. How about we head over to my place and I'll show you that I'm a ten." Lisa bit her lip, "Okay. Let's get out of here."