Not Defined By Blood

It's Time Together That Matters

"Jack, what are you doing?" Claire asked, looking down at him.

Upon arriving at the beach, everyone had started setting up their little beach basecamp. Everyone except for Jack. He had walked to the middle of the beach and laid down, spread eagle, moving the sand around with his arms and legs. "I'm making a sandangel," he explained.

"Yeah, I can see that. Why are you making a sandangel?"

"I saw a video of someone doing it in the snow once. It looked fun. But it's not." Jack sat up and brushed the sand off his t-shirt and swim trunks. "There's sand everywhere."

Claire shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. "Jack, you're only supposed to do that in the snow. Normal people don't make sandangels."

"Oh."

"Just get up." She offered her hand to help him up, and he took it. She led him down to the shoreline and into the water.

"Well, what do people do in the sand?" he asked as he followed her lead.

"Walk on it. Or... make sandcastles," she explained as he followed her into waist-deep water. Suddenly she stopped, turned around, and shoved him backwards. He fell into the ocean and surfaced a few seconds later, gasping for air. Not because he was out of breath, though; the chill of the water had just shocked him more than anything else. He looked at Claire, confused as to why she would push him. Was his question really stupid enough to warrant getting soaked?

But she just smiled at him and giggled. "Are you less sandy now?"

He looked down at himself and realized that the water had washed away most of the sand, and that Claire had just been helping him. Albeit in her somewhat rude manner. "Yeah," he confirmed as he stood up, wiping the saltwater from his face. "But now I'm wet."

She sighed and rolled her eyes again, mock annoyance in her voice as she groaned, "There's just no pleasing you, is there?" Though the charade of annoyance fell through as a smile crept across her face.

Jack returned it, then looked back up the beach to see if there was something he should be helping with. But the brothers were finishing setting up their folding chairs and towels, Jody and Alex had already set up their umbrella and towels, and Cass had just lugged out the beer cooler.

Castiel looked absolutely ridiculous. Dean had insisted on him, Sam, and Cass all wearing Hawaiian shirts, but had purposely made Castiel wear one that looked like someone had stitched five different shirts together into one. There were at least five distinct patterns, and twice as many colors, none of which looked good combined. But Castiel hadn't complained; he knew how much the brothers needed this vacation, and he wasn't going to stop Dean's fun for the sake of his pride. And Sam and Dean's shirts were only better in the sense that they had only one pattern. Sam's was a standard pale yellow with green palm trees and monkeys, but Dean's was bright pink with beer bottles decorating it. Everyone else wore more acceptable beach dress: Jody wore a one-piece swimsuit with shorts, Alex had on a black bikini, and Claire sported a long black t-shirt with matching swim trunks.

Since there was nothing else for him to help with, Castiel walked down to join Jack and Claire. "Well, does it live up to your expectations?" he asked Jack.

Jack let his eyes wander across the beach to take in the scenery. It was an early Tuesday morning, so the beach was empty except for them. They were somewhere in Florida that was famed for having fine-grained sand beaches. The water here was crystal clear, and the edge of the beach was lined with palm trees. Further down the beach were two volleyball courts and a firepit for public use. The sky was clear, save for a few white clouds, and the early morning sun shone bright. To Jack, this was the most beautiful place he had ever been. Sure, Sioux Falls was nice, but he had grown accustomed to it.