Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I'm not making any money off of this. Again, please don't sue me. I'll cry.
Author's Note: The idea for this story comes from my friend Jyl. So you can all thank her if you enjoy it. :D I know, I know. I should be working on chapters for Forgive Us Our Trespasses but in the meantime: have some humor. I'm sure you're shocked. I never post anything funny. And if you all don't think this is funny then my record will still hold. XD
PS: I know this doesn't follow canon exactly but suspend your disbelief a while longer. Or else pretend that it's in season 6 instead of 7.
It had been over three weeks since the Winchesters last heard from Castiel. Dean had called and left a half dozen voicemail messages and had prayed so many times that Sam lost count. When they didn't receive an answer, Dean started to worry. He never said but Sam noticed anyway. Dean kept checking his phone, taking it out, putting it away, then taking it out again. He looked behind himself constantly as if waiting for the angel to appear and invade his personal space without warning. But Castiel never came.
They were in Iowa wrapping up a hunt when the angel finally showed. They laid the spirit to rest after a rather anticlimactic fight and returned to their motel room, dropping into bed without removing their dirt crusted clothes. They were out in seconds.
Without warning, the room filled with the sound of wings. Sam sat up in bed, wide eyed in the dark. Beside him, he could hear Dean doing the same.
"Don't turn on the light," Castiel said. The gravel in his voice was surprising after so long.
"What? Why?" Dean threw back the covers, on guard and on his feet. "What's going on?"
"God has return," Castiel said.
Silence stretched across the dark room. There was a rustle as Castiel shifted. Sam climbed from his own bed and folded the covers back into place.
"And?" Dean asked finally.
"There was much debate over the proper punishment for my… transgressions."
"In English, Cas. What does that mean? God took away your TV privileges? What?" Dean reached for the lamp. He could barely even see the outline of the angel on the other side of the room.
"Don't turn on the light," Castiel said again, a note of panic in his voice.
Dean ignored him and flicked the bedside lamp on anyway. A dim yellow glow filled the room, barely reaching the far corners. Castiel stood beside the door, prim and proper as ever. He was unchanged save for the fact that his trench coat was buttoned for the first time since they'd met him.
"I have been reassigned," Castiel said. "Temporarily."
"Cas," Sam said, "are you… naked under there?"
Dean's gaze dropped to the bare legs sticking out the bottom of the angel's closed trench coat. Then it raced back up to the collar and crooked tie that weren't there. Instead a slip of bare chest peeked out from between the lapels of the tan coat. Castiel looked away, folding his arms over his chest and then refolding them again the other way. He said nothing.
"So when you say 'reassigned'…?" Sam said slowly.
"This is the appropriate uniform of a Cupid," Castiel said stiffly, looking anywhere but at the Winchesters. "However, as an act of clemency, I was allowed to keep this coat for the duration of my sentence."
Dean's eyes bulged. He put a hand over his mouth as he fought for air.
"When I have completed my penance, I will be reinstated to my former position," Castiel went on. He steadfastly ignored the way that Sam and Dean were looking at each other and nodding at him. He also ignored the silent shaking of Sam's shoulders. "I wanted to inform you. In the event that I would be unable to answer your calls. While I fulfill my duties." His eyes drifted skyward and his head cocked as if listening to a far off voice.
Castiel frowned and his shoulders rose into a straight tense line beside his ears.
"I understand," he said to an unheard instruction. Castiel took a step forward. He raised his arms stiffly in front of him and advanced on Dean.
"Whoa!" Dean leapt back and almost bounced off the wall. One hand curled into a loose fist and the other went out to keep the angel at a distance. "What're you doing?"
"While I am a Cupid I must… observe certain formalities," Castiel said, arms still out and mouth set in a tight line as he took another step forward.
Dean retreated until he was trapped between the bed and the wall, eyes large and frantic. He looked at Sam for help but Sam was too busy slapping his knee and guffawing like some kind of cartoon character.
Dean nearly turned purple when Castiel wrapped his arms around him, enclosing him in a too tight hug. "This is how Cupids greet people," Castiel reminded him. Then he grimaced. Dean struggled to free an arm so he could punch him. And Sam nearly fell over he was laughing so hard.
Until Castiel released Dean and turned on him too.