Honey Apple Pie

Chapter Twenty-Five

'So, I want to take you all out for drinks. Hey, don't you have a brother?' she asked Dean, who nodded. 'I'd love to meet him! Is he free tonight? You should bring him.'

Dean nodded again.

'Awesome!'

{I have to get to work} Dean told Cas, his face falling slightly. {See you later} He kissed Cas goodbye, and left.

Charlie winked at Cas, who rolled his eyes.

'How is Dorothy, anyway?' he asked.

'She's great. Visiting her parents with the news.'

Cas smiled widely.

The rest of the day was surreal. Having Charlie back in the bakery was like a breath of fresh air. She helped Cas put up the Christmas decorations, and refilled the cake decorations with as many different colours as she could.

Alfie stayed all day, too, and the three of them closed together.

Once they'd dropped off the leftovers, they met Sam and Dean outside.

Sam warmly shook Charlie's hand, then let her lead the way to her favourite bar.

She ordered them all a round of drinks and sat them all down at a table.

'So, how'd you and Cas meet?' Sam asked.

Dean watched her, interested.

'Well, we were sort of on the same scene for a while, so we knew each other from around. I actually dragged him out of clubs a few times, when I thought he'd had enough-'

'I don't remember that,' Cas said.

'Duh, you were completely wasted every time I did. I used to keep an eye on him whenever I saw him out, 'cause he was clearly using a fake ID, and he had just about the worst fashion sense I've ever seen-'

'No change there, then,' Sam laughed.

'Oh, trust me, this was so much worse.'

'Pics or it didn't happen,' Alfie grinned.

Cas frowned. 'Charlie doesn't have-'

'Oh, Charlie does,' Charlie said, smiling wickedly.

Cas's eyes widened. 'You don't!'

'If you think I didn't keep photos of you for this exact occasion, you're wrong.'

To Cas's horror, Charlie unlocked her phone and pulled up her photos. She giggled as she picked one out, and passed it around the table.

Sam burst out laughing and Alfie sniggered at it. It was passed over to Dean, who choked on his drink.

Cas snatched it away and groaned. It was a picture of him at about sixteen years old, wearing the mesh vest he'd left at his parents' house, with a stringy white top hanging off his shoulders. He was clutching a glass of something green in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. The black eyeliner he'd ringed his eyes with had smudged all over his face, and his hair flopped over his forehead, greasy and electric blue.

'Oh, you think that's funny, do you?' Sam said to Dean, who was almost crying with mirth. 'Let's see what everyone has to say about this.'

Dean's face fell.

'What do you mean?' Cas said.

'Let's just say, you weren't the only one that went through that phase,' Sam said.

Cas glanced at Dean, who was shaking his head.

Sam too pulled up a photo and passed it around.