Supernatural One Shots

Personal Shopper

"There's no way he can go in dressed in his patented holy-tax-accountant look. Our cover will be blown before we can even get through the door."

Dean scratched his chin as he considered his brothers words. "We could leave him at home."

"And go in that bar on our own? We're pretty sure this is one of the Furies we're dealing with; those bitches are crazy. We need all the back-up we can get."

"Leave him outside?"

Sam's bitchface was in pouty mode. "Because he's so good at blending in. Especially around a biker bar. Although I guess he's almost qualifies for the Hell's Angels technically."

"Can you picture Cas on a hog? Seriously, it'd be like a puppy on a tricycle." Dean laughed but sobered up at Sam's scowl. He coughed, embarrassed. "So yeah. Cas needs new clothes."

"Which means you need to take him shopping."

"What?" Dean spluttered. "No, no way. What does he need a personal shopper for anyway? Dude's a freaking angel. He can handle a shopping mall."

"But who knows what he would come back with? Remember that time he did the grocery run?"

Dean frowned but didn't reply. Cas had taken three hours to get 'groceries' only to return with 34 boxes of Lucky Charms. Just Lucky Charms. Not even milk.  Apparently he'd wanted the toy car inside. Specifically the green one. Which had taken over 30 boxes to find. After threatening to shove the damn car somewhere Cas wouldn't forget they had banned him from any future grocery trips and started trying to make their way through several kilos worth of crunchy, magical cereal. That kind of heroic feat takes its toll on ones digestive system, and Dean rubbed his stomach mournfully as he recalled it. He sighed and said "Fine, fine. Cas needs a babysitter. I vote you."

"I still have to talk to local sheriff! I'm meeting him at one. Can't be avoided." Sam smirked at Deans scowl. He wagged his finger and tried to look serious and helpful and not at all like he was revelling in Deans predicament. "You know maybe you could get some new clothes too. Matching outfits maybe? Heard pink is in this season. It would really bring out your eyes."

"Bite me."

Sam threw his head back and laughed as Dean stormed out to find an angel to give a makeover.

"I don't understand. What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Dude, seriously?" At Castiels cocked head and bewildered expression he elaborated. "Your look, it's... You know it can look pretty badass when you're smiting demons but otherwise it's a bit..." Dean struggled for the words, before clapping a hand on the angels shoulder and saying cheerily, "virgin-accountant-slash-stalker. That kind of vibe."

"And that's bad?"

"Nah I like – I mean, it works for you. It's very you." Dean smiled as Castiel bristled happily. "But we're going undercover. It's the opposite of how you need to appear. This is a grungy biker bar where you'll probably get bottled if you ask to see the cocktail menu."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "So I need some more suitable attire. And you're going to help me?"

"Exactly. Come on."

They wandered around a few of the stores but didn't find anything. Castiel couldn't understand why Dean was getting so annoyed, as he kept muttering to himself. "Who wants jeans that crush your junk, seriously?" "Why does that sweater have a cat on it?" "Pastels? Pastels!?"

Eventually Dean practically dragged Castiel out of the shopping mall and drove them to a small town nearby. He pulled up outside the first clothes store he saw and pushed Cas through the door. He almost sighed in happiness when he saw that none of the pants were rolled up from the ankles. Castiel felt fairly useless as he followed Dean around like a kicked puppy, watching as the hunter finger-walked through the rails, seemingly (to Castiel) arbitrarily choosing and disregarding various items until he ended up with an arm full of clothes for Castiel to try on.

The man at the counter directed them to the back of the store where there was a small room to be used as a changing room. There were two cubicles with a bench outside. Dean laid the clothes on the bench and picked out an outfit and handed it to Castiel. He made a shooing motion to get the frightened-looking angel into the cubicle.

Castiel drew the curtain across. A moment later he stepped out, feeling self-conscious about his appearance for the first time in his existence. Dean made a sound in the back of his throat like a strangled cat, before coughing and standing up to appraise him better.

Castiel wore a pair of dark jeans that were very stiff and made him feel uncomfortable. He was wearing a green canvas jacket open over a red and grey plaid shirt. Dean looked him up and down, before gently pushing his shoulders to get him to turn around.

Castiel wished Dean would say something, but the hunter was just staring at him. "Is this more suitable?"

"Hmmm. Change your shirt."

Dean handed him a dark t-shirt. Castiel stripped off the jacket and the shirt and slipped the new top over his head. It was a soft dark material that hung close to his skin without being tight. Dean swallowed and nodded his approval. Castiel opened his mouth to ask another question but Dean turned and practically ran out of the changing room. Castiel stood there dumfounded until Dean returned a moment later with a leather belt.

Dean grunted and handed it to him. "Your jeans hang a bit loose." He smirked. "Narrow hips. They don't have a smaller waist. You need that size for the length but you could fit your hand down there." Deans eyes widened and he coughed again.

Castiel frowned but put the belt on. It had a silver buckle, tarnished with flecks of black to look aged. It was in the shape of a pair of wings, the tip of each pointing to his hips. He slipped the green jacket back on and stood nervously for appraisal again.

Dean bit his lip thoughtfully. "It's good. You won't stick out like a sore thumb. But it looks a bit too well put together. It's too new."

"But I don't have any other clothes."

Dean thought for a moment, frowning at the outfit. He clicked his fingers as an idea came to him. He stripped off his own jacket. It was dark grey, nearing black, and it was old and worn and lived-in. He held it out to Castiel. "Might be a bit big but at least it's not new, that's for damn sure."

Wordlessly Cas swapped the jackets. The fabric inside was warm. It actually fit him fairly well. He smoothed the leather down his arms and let it fall open, pinched in nearer the top and splaying out wider at the bottom. It was the most comfortable thing he had ever worn. He felt his wings settle against the soft leather.

He looked up to see Dean staring at him, a knowing smile playing across his lips. Castiel breathed in and asked for what he hoped would be the last time, "Is this suitable?"

Dean took his time looking the angel down and then back up. From the black boots, up the fake-faded jeans, settling for a longer moment on the metal wings and then up the black, cotton chest and dark leather to meet Cas' gaze.

"Yeah Cas. I think that'll do just fine. What do you think of your new look?"

"I think..." He paused.

"Yeah?"

Cas looked at him and said, sounding pleased with himself but with a hint of nervousness. "I think I look like a hunter."

The grin Dean gave him split his face and he laughed, clapping a hand on the angels shoulder. "Yeah you do. Come on. We'll pay for this lot and then show Sam. He'll be so jealous. I never let him buy new clothes."

"What about your coat?"

"Keep it. I'll get the new green one. You can be stuck with my hand-me-downs."

Castiel's fingers played with the leather at the cuff of his sleeve and smiled to himself. He could handle that.