Titanic - A Destiel Story

Tea With Angels

Knock. Knock knock. Castiel dried off his face with a fluffy towel and slightly opened the bathroom door. He stuck his head out and blinked at his brother sitting on a low couch. "Gabriel, can you answer the door please? I just finished my bath," Cas asked him. Gabriel groaned, but stood and went to the door. Castiel thanked him and slipped back in to dry his body and put on some clothes. Looking into the looking glass, he ran his fingers through his hair, making the dark hair stand as if he had just woken up. He liked this style a lot better than Gabriel's slicked back style. Cas pulled on an extra pair of undergarments, his pants, his shirt, and his trench coat. A tiny block of paper fell out of his pocket. Sketches of bright green eyes and angel wings covered the thin paper that he had commissioned from an artist from the city. He stared at the eyes and wings longingly before stuffing the papers back into his coat.
"Who is it, Gabriel?" Castiel opened the door to find that Gabriel had disappeared. Typical. A note stood on a little glass table in Gabriel's sloping handwriting:
Cas - Went to Tea Room A5. Michael is here with Zachariah and Uriel and some other angels. Hope they have some sweets. - Gabriel
Zachariah? Uriel? They were bad news, and Castiel didn't want to see them again. Stuck up, goody-goody angels, with their wings. He had never known how much his wings had meant to him until they were taken. Oh well. At least half of his time on Earth was over, and then he could go back and rejoice with his wings in heaven. In the meantime, he had better get to Tea Room A5 to see what's up. He hurried out, pausing to lock the door with his bronze key. First class was nice, but it was troublesome. So much space, and all the annoying servants. He almost crashed into a maid carrying a pile of fresh, fluffy towels. "Sorry miss," Castiel apologized, then ran down the stairs, almost knocking down a vase with lilies. Was he really that clumsy? Finally he stood in front of the mahogany doors. He straightened his tie and his trenchcoat, then went in. "-and then he said that selling your soul to an angel wasn't possible, so I proved him false before I sent him back to hell. King of the Crossroads indeed! No wonder he is so dimwitted, all kings are," an excited voice was telling a small group of angels. Balthazar? Castiel smiled a little. It made him feel a little better to know that he was here. "Oh, and here's Cassie," Balthazar smiled and motioned him over. "How are you?" Balthazar started piling biscuits on Cas' plate. Castiel told them he was fine, forcing a smile at his siblings. Michael sat at the end of the table, with Rafael, Uriel, Anna, and Gabriel on one side and Zachariah and Balthazar on the other.
The angels started discussing matters in heaven, and how their dad had decided to go on a nice trip down to the Mediterranean for a few weeks. Apparently, the demons had finally been a bit subdued and there was some peace. Balthazar insisted that part of the reason that Crowley was so distracted was that Crowley fancied Michael, but the idea was quickly dismissed by the rest. Gabriel told them of how they planned to go the America in the Titanic, chocolate mousse trailing off his fingers as he scooped up sugared strawberry after sugared strawberry. It was way after noon by the time the siblings ended their tea time, ending with Michael giving Castiel a golden timepiece. "My parting gift, from a long ago kingdom. Very precious. We won't see each other until you're an angel again, so farewell," the oldest angel said, and then there was the sound of wings flapping as the angels departed. "Ooh, that's pretty," Gabriel sucked the sugar from his fingers, glancing at the time peace. "Yeah," Castiel said uneasily, before pushing his half empty plate away and standing up. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, inquiring as to where Castiel thought he was going. "I need some fresh air," Cas explained, and left the tea room.
The breeze on the deck was wonderful, a nice mix of salt and spray. It was a little warm, the sun high in the sky. Young, rich girls exclaimed in amazement at the dolphins leaping along the prow of the ship, while their brothers sat around, chasing each other. The ladies sat with their mothers with parasols and fans, some reading, others staring at the dashing men. The upper deck was full of quiet, happy life. "Humanity is truly wonderful," Castiel said quietly, looking around him. His gaze turned to the lower deck, to the poorer passengers in browns and reds. Life was rougher there, but still happy and still life. "I'm the king in the world!" he heard a faint shout from the very prow of the ship, from a pair of two men who had their arms spread, and he smiled, bittersweet now, as it reminded him of his lost wings. Just 50 years more, and he had them back. One of the men turned, the big one with the darker brown hair. Castiel looked at them again in curiosity. Brothers, or lovers? Judging from their playful pushing, he settled on brothers. The blondish, shorter man, finally turned around, laughing and saying something Cas couldn't hear to his brother. Suddenly, the man looked up, with pale green eyes. It was if a candle in a dark room had suddenly gone off in Castiel's head. Pale green star, pale green soul, pale green eyes and dark blonde hair. This is him, Castiel thought, I've found my star.