Miracle (AO3)

Day 1 of 25: COOKIES

After forgetting to order the Christmas cookies for a pregnant Jess, Dean is on a race against time to find a bakery that will take a last minute order at closing time on Christmas Eve.

Dean wiped his face with the towel, tossing it haphazardly to one side. He barely paid attention as it landed on the cluttered workbench, complete with littered spark plugs and a particularly greasy distributor cap. Why everyone seemed to have car troubles so close to Christmas was beyond him, but it meant that instead of being there to greet his brother and his brother’s pregnant wife as they arrived for their family dinner, he had to work.

Thankfully, the working day was now over, and Dean had just taken a long shower at the garage, changing into his jeans and a t-shirt with a flannel button down over the top. He left it open, unaffected by the winter chill in the air, but thought better of it once he was outside, pulling his leather jacket on and turning up his collar against the wind.

His phone rang as he got to his car, his pride and joy, his fingers resting against the frame as he fumbled for his cell.

“What’s up, Sammy?” He greeted, a small smile playing on his lips as soon as he’d read the caller ID. It had been a long time since he’d seen his brother. He’d stayed in Palo Alto after college, married to the girl he’d met on his very first day there. Jess was wonderful, the best thing that had ever happened to Sam, and they’d agreed to come and spend Christmas in Kansas, to let Mary coo over Jess’ baby bump. She was only about six weeks, but she was already experiencing cravings and had just started her morning sickness phase.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam’s voice greeted him, sounding equally as thrilled to hear his brother’s voice, but with an undertone of weariness. “I was trying to catch you before you left work. Mom wants to know if you can pick up the Christmas cookies you ordered on your way home? I’d get them myself, but you know, Jess is having major cravings right now and it’s stressing her out a little…”

Dean stilled, his eyes widening. Fuck, the cookies. The damn cookies that both Mary and Sam had hammered it into his head that he needed to order for today. The damn cookies that he had, of course, forgotten all about.

“Uh, yeah, no worries,” he agreed, instantly, wondering where the hell he was supposed to get freshly baked cookies at this hour on Christmas Eve. “Listen, there’s something wrong with the brakes on the Dodge I’m working on, so I’ll be like another hour, okay? I’ll pick them up on my way home.”

He said his goodbyes and hung up the call, spending a second debating banging his head against the roof the Impala, but deciding it wasn’t worth the damage to his baby. Getting in, he quickly made his way downtown. He stopped at no less than three bakeries, but he had no luck. Everywhere was either closing or out of stock and refused to make another batch of Christmas cookies. Cursing himself for his idiocy, Dean resolved to head home and face the music.

Still, he couldn’t help but hope, each time he passed a bakery, that there would be a light on. Luck seemed to be on his side when he saw the light on in Novak’s, a bakery he knew his friend Benny raved about, but had never been to himself. Dean stopped the car immediately, shivering at the shrill wind as he swiftly stepped inside the store.

His fingers felt numb, so he rubbed them together as he allowed himself to bask in the warmth and the wonderful sweet smell of cookies.

“Yo, we’re closing.” A short man behind the counter was watching him carefully, his eyes narrowed, a lollipop of all things clutched in his hand. “Sorry. We’ve got nothing left.”

Dean stepped forward, ignoring his words and fingers curling around his wallet. “Please. Look, I know it’s Christmas Eve, but you gotta have some holiday spirit. My sister-in-law just got here and her pregnancy cravings are cookies and I forgot to order them…”

The guy whistled. “Sounds like you’ve got quite the sob story there, bucko. But no can do, like you said, it’s Christmas Eve. And I’ve got a fiancée to get home to, and you do not wanna see Kali when she’s pissed,” he chuckled darkly.

Dean’s shoulders slumped. He’d known it was a long shot, but he was really desperate. “Please. I’ll pay you double the price, but I can’t go home without those cookies.”

He knew before he even finished his sentence that there was no way this guy was going to help him out, so he sighed, turning to leave without even waiting for a reply. He’d just have to face Sam’s look of disappointment and hear Jess’ assurances that it would be fine.

“What’s going on, Gabriel?”

Dean turned back at the voice to see the door to the kitchen had opened, and another man was standing in the doorway in full baker’s uniform. He even had the stupid hat, and Dean felt the corners of his mouth quirk.

“Some sap forgot to order cookies for his preggers girlfriend or whatever,” Gabriel muttered, waving dismissively. “It’s fine, Castiel.”

Dean frowned, stepping forward and locking eyes with the blue-eyed baker, giving him a hopeful look. “My sister-in-law,” he corrected. “She’s craving Christmas cookies and I forgot to order them. Please, I’ll pay you whatever it will cost me if you’ll just help me out. It’s Christmas,” he finished lamely.

Castiel stared back for a long moment, before giving him a brief nod. “As you say, it’s Christmas. Lock up and head home, Gabe. It won’t take long; I can make up some cookies before I go.” He told his brother, without taking his eyes off Dean.

Relief flooded through Dean’s body and he could have cried.  “Thanks, man. Seriously, you’ve saved my ass, my brother would have never let me forget this.”

He could hear Gabriel mutter something about Castiel being a sap for a pretty face, and was pretty sure he managed not to blush, tentatively following the baker into the kitchen. He was surprised to be presented with an apron and pointed towards the sink, but he dutifully put it on and washed his hands.

“Least I don’t have to wear the stupid hat,” he muttered, biting his lip as he realised what he’d said. Castiel was going to kick him out of the bakery if he didn’t watch his mouth. So he was surprised when the corner of Castiel’s mouth tugged up in an amused smile.

“It is a ridiculous hat, but I’d rather look stupid where not many people can see me than go bankrupt because people found hair in their baked goods,” he pointed out with a smile, pulling a mixing bowl towards him. “How many cookies do you need?”

Dean thought for a moment. “I think my brother said to get two boxes,” he mumbled, hovering awkwardly, not sure what he was supposed to be doing. “Do you need me to…?” He trailed off, not sure if he would just be in the way.

Castiel chuckled as he poured measured ingredients into the mixing bowl, before pushing it towards Dean. “Mix it into a dough,” he instructed, pulling out a second bowl to repeat the process, mixing that one himself. “It’s very commendable, you going through all this effort for your sister-in-law.”

Dean flushed. “It’s commendable you going through all this effort for me. When you could be going home with your brother. He was your brother, right? The dou… uh, dude out front?”

A small grin fluttered across Castiel’s face, as if he’d known that Dean was about to call his brother a douchebag. “Gabriel? Yes, he’s one of my brothers. I have one sister and four brothers, but he’s the only one I can stand to work with. Plus, he’s excellent at sales,” he shrugged, pulling the dough out of the bowl, onto the flour-sprinkled bench.

“Gabriel, Castiel… I’m sensing some kind of pattern,” Dean asked curiously, following Castiel’s lead so as not to overmix the dough. “Castiel is unusual. It’s a cool name.”

“Thank you. I’m quite fond of it,” Castiel smiled, raising his eyes from the dough to meet Dean’s. “And… do you mind if I ask your name?”

Clearing his throat, a little pink now, Dean shook his head. “You can ask me anything you want when you’ve just saved my Christmas,” he muttered. “Dean. Dean Winchester.”

“Dean,” Castiel repeated, pausing with his hand on the cookie cutters, as if deliberating the name. “I like it. It has character.” He returned to selecting a variety of cookie cutters, all in different shapes, cutting out and rerolling the dough until there was nothing left. There were mittens and Christmas trees and stars and snowflakes, but Dean didn’t have time to admire them before Castiel had taken his dough to repeat the process, before sliding them into the oven.

Dean found himself blushing furiously, relieved that Castiel was so focused on his baking that he hadn’t noticed the effect of his words. Still, he couldn’t stop the wide grin. His name had character.

“They’ll take about twelve minutes, then they have to cool,” Castiel told him, starting to stack the dishes, setting them in the dishwasher. “Would you like some tea while we wait?”

Dean accepted, and soon found himself seated in the empty bakery, cradling a cup of tea. They made polite conversation that progressed to genuine interest as the awkwardness faded. Dean found himself talking about how he’d never gone to college but still made it big as a mechanic, and Castiel explained how he had gone to college, to become an accountant, but found his calling when he began stress baking.

They both liked western movies and Dr. Sexy. Castiel liked classical music, but did admit a weakness for classic rock. Dean insisted he had to listen to Led Zeppelin’s entire discography, and Castiel smiled, his eyes crinkling endearingly.

When the timer went off, they both returned to the kitchen, talking animatedly about Lord of the Rings as Castiel took the cookies out of the oven. Dean helped him make up three batches of royal icing: white, green and red, starting to decorate the cookies expertly. When they were finished, Castiel turned off the oven, starting to wash up while they waited for the icing to set.

Dean was surprised by how much he’d enjoyed himself in so short a time. The whole thing hadn’t taken much more than fifty minutes, but his cheeks were aching from smiling.

Castiel pulled out two white boxes, embossed with a black logo that read Novak’s Family Bakery, stacking the cookies with precision. Sealing the boxes, he set them down on top of each other, turning to smile at Dean expectantly as his hand rested on the box.

“Cas, you’re a lifesaver,” Dean breathed, reaching for his wallet with a relieved sigh. “How much do I owe you for this Christmas miracle?”

Castiel’s smile faded just a fraction, but his eyes were soft as he shook his head. “Nothing. Call it a Christmas gift. I hope Jess likes the cookies, Dean.”

Blinking, Dean stepped forward, his hand resting on top of the box, his pinkie ghosting against Castiel’s. “C’mon, I interrupted your Christmas Eve when you could be home with your family, just because I’m an idiot. You gotta let me pay you.”

“I insist,” Castiel told him firmly, slowly drawing his hand back. “You should get home, I remember when my sister Anna was pregnant – she’ll want those cookies yesterday.”

Dean nodded in confusion, not sure what else he was supposed to say, because it felt like Castiel was trying to usher him out of the door. “Yeah, I … you’re probably right. Sammy will probably have his hands full with her,” he joked weakly, shuffling his feet. “Well, thanks Cas, I appreciate this. I hope you have a great Christmas.”

“You too.” Castiel smiled, pressing the boxes into Dean’s hand. “Goodnight, Dean. Merry Christmas.”

Unable to help it, Dean lingered for a second as he watched Castiel take his hat off, revealing a shock of dark hair, messy and mussed from the heat of the kitchen. “Merry Christmas,” he replied, heading for the door.

Setting the cookies on the passenger seat, Dean hesitated, looking back at the dim light of the bakery. Sam would strangle him if he was much later, he’d already been almost an hour, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to drive away yet. Castiel was fun, and kind, and Dean had liked spending time with him.

Plus it was Christmas. What was one more miracle?

Heading back to the bakery, he pushed open the door a fraction, sticking his head in. “Cas?”

A few seconds passed, before Castiel stuck his head out of the kitchen door, squinting in confusion. His face cleared when he saw Dean and he smiled, hurrying over to the door. “Hello again. Did you forget something?”

“Uh, something like that,” Dean laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Listen, Cas, I was hoping, uh, that you’d maybe want to go out sometime? Catch a movie or get dinner?”

He watched the range of expressions on Castiel’s face, from his eyes widening, to the reddening cheeks, and his hopeful smile. “Like a date?”

“Sure,” Dean agreed, his smile widening as he pulled out his phone. “Like a date. What do you say? Can I get your number?”

Castiel smiled, taking Dean’s phone and typing his number in quickly, handing it back. Their fingers brushed together, and Castiel tried to withdraw quickly but Dean had none of it. He caught Castiel’s hand, threading their fingers together and holding it for a moment.

“I’ll call you tomorrow night,” he promised, slowly withdrawing and letting their fingers slip apart. “To wish you a Merry Christmas.”

“I look forward to it.” Castiel whispered almost shyly, heading back into the bakery clumsily, but Dean could see his smile through the window.

Laughing, he walked back to the Impala, heading home. He was whistling merrily as he carried the cookies inside, presenting them to Sam and Jess with a wide grin. He greeted them enthusiastically, and kissed his mom on the cheek.

“What’s got you so cheerful?” Sam asked, suspiciously, watching Dean carefully.

Dean just grinned, meeting his brother’s eyes as he settled himself on the couch, feeling nothing but joy as he answered the question.

“A Christmas miracle.”

Masterpost