The Bodyguard (is the Omega)

9.

"I have misjudged you, Castiel. What a talented and generous man you are. Signing that consent form so Dean could have you in his video. If you are interested in having an agent, you know my door is wide open."

"Please close it, Crowley," Castiel had no patience for the publicist that morning.

Putting up with obnoxious personalities was very much a part of personal security, whether working in the public or private sector. Crowley was a little tricker than most, he was distasteful but clever. Crowley was up to something, cornering Castiel with Ketch at the breakfast table the moment Dean headed out to his music studio. Castiel supposed Dean could only maintain frosty silence for so long.

"Please allow me to speak to Castiel, he is clearly not interested in your sycophancy," Ketch said haughtily. "That means 'sucking up' in American."

Crowley bristled. "I can speak English."

"I believe he is clarifying for my sake," Castiel rolled his eyes, he looked down at his wrist watch meaningfully.

"Let me make it simple for you, Castiel, or as Dean so fondly calls you, Cas. I might have taken on this job months ago thinking it was a voluptuous cheque and an attractive employer, in the time I have come to know Dean he is simply the perfect alpha. A gentlman and you sir have been behaving in an ungentlemanly manner towards him."

"Now, now, Arthur has developed quite the little crush on Dean, I suppose you bodyguards all know what that's like, don't you Castiel. I'm sure you've worked out that over the years I have looked after Dean's interests well and got myself a juicy cut of the profits in the process. What makes people like me tolerable to people like Sam and Dean is my insatiable desire to continue making money off other people's success. So you see our objectives are in a way aligned Castiel. If harm were to come to Dean, perhaps there would be a quick buck to be made off the media attention but the goose that lays the golden egg would be cooked, so to speak."

"You are suffocating the golden goose, Castiel," Ketch gestured in frustration. "Here he is practically throwing himself at you, a Greek god, Captain American himself, and you are making him feel like ... shit. Excrement. I won't stand for it any longer."

"He can't just wallow at home, it's awards season, he has a film nominated for an Oscar. Do you know how much his compliance with your ridiculous security measures is costing him? Costing me?" Crowley spat. "We're paying through the nose for your services, so serve him!"

Castiel stared at the two alphas with their reddened faces and sweaty mouths. His eyebrows slowly climbed up. They actually cared about Dean Winchester the man, not the pay check. They were talking like complete assbutts but the intention beneath the threats and innuendo was that they wanted Castiel to make Dean happy.

"I'm not here to make Dean feel good, I'm here to save his life," Castiel said and walked out.

* * *

Ostensibly, Dean stuck to the routine and followed Castiel's rules but there were obvious moments of non-compliance. When Castiel accompanied Dean for a jog, Dean either ran far ahead or lagged way behind. In the pasture, he rode Wyatt like the wind and left Castiel fumbling on Doc. Dean spent hours in the music studio but the barrage of noise he made in there leaked out of the open studio doors and sounded like nothing but destruction. Castiel watched from aside as Dean stormed out and smoked pack after pack of cigarettes, leaning the back of his head against the studio wall. Not even caring that Jack could see him from the pool.