Writings and Stuff!

Sam slumped into the chair across from his agent and covered his eyes with his hand.  "I don't need a bodyguard!"  

Genevieve eyed him and raised an eyebrow.  "Would you rather walk through crowds molested by fangirls?  Because I can have that be the case instead and not hire you a bodyguard."  

Sam sighed.  "They are going to follow me everywhere and drive me batshit insane.  I don't want to be followed everywhere by a ghost, Gen.  Can't he just...follow me to public events or something?"  

"Next time, one of them won't wait for a public event to yank you into a bathroom.  And next time, someone might not hear the racket you are making through a gag,"  Genevieve said, eyeing him.  She watched Sam squirm for another long moment and then sighed.  

"All right, all right.  One bodyguard.  I'm not about to turn into some prissy fucking celebrity who has a team of people following him around.  I’m over six feet tall, for christs sake!  People shouldn't be trying to kidnap me!"  Sam complained, flopping onto the couch.  

Genevieve huffed and shook her head at Sam's antics.  "Here's the deal:  you will try out this guy, Castiel.  He comes very highly recommended and specializes in low-profile duties.  You shouldn't even notice he is there unless you want to."  

Sam scowled at her, glancing at the folder she was holding in her hands.  "You went ahead and hired someone without telling me?"  Genevieve raised an eyebrow.  "All right, all right, I deserved that one, but sheesh.  Next time, be a little more gentle, won't you?"  Sam asked, taking the folder from her.  He looked down at the guy on the page and raised an eyebrow.  He looked hot.  "So, how off-limits is-"

"No."  Genevieve said.  

"But-"

"No.  No, no, no, and more no."  She said.  "Absolutely not.  You are not allowed to sleep with him, hit on him, flirt with him, or proposition him."  

Sam huffed and leaned back against the couch.  "Well, at least you hired me someone hot."  It was a small consolation, but he was going to take it if it meant he went mostly un-groped at future events.  No doubt some of his coworkers would sneak in a grope or seven, but he didn't give two shits about them.  Just, no more creepy, stalker mid-thirties women.  Or men.  Please.  

"Sam.  Promise me,"  she said.  

Sam huffed again and looked at her.  "All right, all right, I promise.  I solemnly swear that I will not hit on, proposition, or sleep with the new bodyguard."  

"Or flirt with him!"  Genevieve added.  

"Aw, come on!  I flirt with everyone, Gen!"  

Genevieve stared at Sam for a long moment and then deflated.  "All right.  Flirting.  But keep it to a minimum.  I really don't want to have to go looking for another one of these."  

Sam stood up and saluted her.  "All right then, boss-lady, is that it for now?  I don't have to do anything until shooting next week, right?  I can just chill at home and do whatever I want?"  

She smiled.  "Yes, Sam, you have the week off to get over your 'trauma'."  

Sam snorted.  "Send this bodyguard over whenever he shows up so I can at least meet him and spend five minutes with him."  

"Sam..."  

"Don't worry, I'll keep my clothes on and my hands off!"  Sam raised his hands and left her office, grumbling under his breath.  

Genevieve huffed and watched him go.  Sam Winchester might be one of the biggest spoiled brats she had ever met in the acting world.  But he was crazy talented, built like a fucking superhero, and didn't tend to have outrageous demands whenever he needed to travel for work.  She had definitely dealt with worse celebrities.  Now he just needed to find someone who could keep his ass permanently in line.  

She looked down at the file on her desk and read through it again.  If Castiel Novak proved to be immune to Sam's smile, dimples, and shirtless chest, he might be perfect for the job.  Genevieve slumped back into her chair and picked up her phone.  Why were the hottest ones always gay?  

~!~!~!~

Lounging around the house was exactly what he had needed after the morning with Gen.  He loved her, dearly and like a sister, but the idea that he needed a bodyguard was simply ridiculous.  Especially growing up with Dean.  He’d known how to fight before he could do anything else.  He rolled his shoulders and grabbed a book off his library shelf, walking towards the pool in the back.  Not to mention he had to play Stupid Hollywood around her.  Never his favorite thing to do.  

Sam pushed his fingers through his hair and slumped down into one of the deck chairs.  If he'd learned nothing else his first few years in Hollywood, it was that if he acted how people expected, he got his way much more often.  He snorted.  Unfortunately, that also meant acting like a spoiled jackass when he found it exhausting.  

Sam opened To Kill A Mockingbird and settled in the shade as he read, falling into the comfort of his favorite book.  It wasn't often that he had time to himself to let all of his acting fall to the side so he could just be...him.  Maybe one day when he was well-off enough he wouldn't need to worry about acting both on-screen and off to keep himself employed.  

Hours later, Sam took a deep breath and wandered around the house.  While he wasn’t under house arrest or anything ridiculous like that, he absolutely was in a situation where he couldn’t leave.  He also probably shouldn’t leave until the bodyguard showed up, in case Gen sent them over.  

He groaned and flopped onto his couch, turning the TV on.  So now he was left to entertain himself for the next week.  He flipped through a few channels before dismissing the idea that there would be anything on that he would want to see.  He opened his Netflix queue.  There had to be something that he felt like watching.   

A series of soft footsteps echoed in his hall.  Sam tensed and waited for them to walk a little closer.  Likely, they belonged to his new bodyguard, but if it was someone unfriendly he should be ready to surprise them.  

A low voice came from the doorway.  “You have a surprisingly low self-preservation instinct.”

Sam scoffed and didn’t bother opening his eyes.  “You’re twenty feet away from me, eighteen if I jumped over the back of the couch, there are two alternate exits out of this room, three if you include the window, and dammit my couch is comfy.  I’m not going to move unless I need to.”  He yawned and stretched.  “I’m 6’4”, in damn good shape, and I’ve taken more classes on self-defense than I want to think about.  Your average robber is screwed.  I’m guessing you’re Casteel, my new bodyguard.”  

“Castiel,”  the voice corrected.  

“Castiel.  Right.  Sorry.”  Sam flipped the TV off and sat up on his couch, looking over the back of it.  “So, Gen gave you a key to the house?”  

Castiel lifted up the key.  “You keep a spare one over the doorframe.  Wise, considering your height.  Poor decision for security.”  

Sam huffed and caught the key when Castiel threw it to him.  “I’d forgotten.”  

“You can no longer afford to forget,”  Castiel said.  He adjusted the bag on his shoulder.  “Will you show me the guest room?”  

Sam waved.  “Just head down the hallway on your left.  There’s four or five rooms.  Pick your fancy.  The ones on the left face the setting sun.”  He watched Castiel head down the hallway and noticed the outfit for the first time.  Trenchcoat.  He snorted.  Dude looked like a flasher.

...and dammit, he wanted a look at that ass.  Stupid coat.  Sam flopped back down on the couch and closed his eyes.  He could wait for the morning.  

“What time are you planning on waking in the morning?”

Sam opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.  He frowned.  He hadn’t heard Castiel approach that time and he sounded closer.  He sat up again and peeked over the edge of the couch.  

Woooooooooooooooooooooooooah.  Woah.  Holy.  Was this the same guy who had been wearing the suit, trenchcoat, and tie two minutes ago?  The black jeans and white button up suited him.  A little bit too much.  Sam swallowed and forced himself to tear his gaze away from those forearms.  “Uh…huh?”  

“I asked what time you are planning on waking in the morning.”  

Ooooh, now that was a sexy disgruntled face.  Sam grinned and rested his chin on the back of the couch.  Castiel even had perfect bed hair.  Not to mention those blue eyes were like lasers, staring directly at him.  “Eh.  Normally I’m up around five, five thirty to walk the dogs, but since they’re staying with my sister for another two days, I can sleep in.  I’ll probably manage to stay in bed until seven, go for a morning run, then figure out what I want to do with the rest of my day when I get back.”  

Castiel nodded.  “Very well.  I will see you at seven for your run.”  

Sam was so completely and utterly distracted by the sight of Castiel’s ass when he turned around and started to walk away that he forgot to protest the company.  He groaned and flopped back down onto the couch.  Shit.  He was going to end up with a shadow that he definitely didn’t need and it was entirely possible that the dude would slow him down.  

He threw an arm over his face and then chuckled.  How dramatic.  Tortured artists.  Tortured artists with a really fucking hot bodyguard.  Sam pulled out his phone and unlocked it.  He already had a text waiting from Genevieve.  

‘REMEMBER -- No sleeping with him!’

Sam huffed and typed out a reply.  ‘He’s hot!  That’s cheating!’

‘Samuel Winchester if you DARE sleep with him, I will remove your balls myself.’

Sam winced and automatically covered his junk.  Gen might actually mean that and he was rather...attached.  ‘Right.  No sleeping with the hot bodyguard.  Got it.’  

‘Good.  Now rest and enjoy your time off. :)’

Sam tossed his phone down at his feet and groaned again.  He was apparently going to have to deal with an epic case of blue balls.  But, he had script-reading to do at the least.  Gen had emailed him over a few things.  Sam grinned.  She might be a ball buster (Ha!  See, he could do comedy!), but she was worth every penny and pretty awesome.  

Sam glanced over at the clock and frowned.  He could not remember the last time he had contemplated going to bed before ten.  He clearly needed to stay up and watch more TV.  He flipped the TV back on and settled on the couch.  

~!~!~!~

Sam blinked blearily and sat up, looking around the room and staring at the flickering TV.  Someone (Castiel, had to be him) had turned the volume off and had covered him with a blanket.  What the fuck?  Had he paid for a babysitter and not a bodyguard?  He huffed, threw it off him, and wiped at his forehead.  He always got ridiculously hot under blankets.  

He stumbled to his room and tried not to look at the alarm clock numbers blaring four am at him.  He flipped it off as he stumbled into bed.  He would wake up soon.  Seven.  Right.  Seven am and he would go running.  

....with a tagalong.  Fuck.  

~!~!~!~

Sam woke up with a start, jolting out of his dream as he flailed in bed.  He turned and glared at his feet.  Dammit he was still wearing his shoes.  He turned to look at the clock and relaxed when he saw it was six thirty.  Plenty of time to get his ass up and find some clothes to go running in.  He stumbled to the closet and kicked off his shoes, opening the door and blinking at his shirts.  

Sweats.  He needed sweats.  

He really needed his brain to wake up.  He was normally much more awake and alert this time of the morning.  Must have been his passing out on the couch at some weird hour.  Sam yawned and shook his head, grabbing a pair of shorts and a tank top.  Running.  He would wake up after a long run.  

Then he remembered that he was going to have someone following him.  Dammit.  He glared at his closet and stripped off his shirt and jeans that he had fallen asleep in.  He licked his lips and thought for a moment.  Maybe...maybe...

An idea came to him a moment later and he grinned, his good mood immediately restored.  Maybe he would teach this bodyguard why he didn't need someone to go running with him.  Castiel was definitely in good shape, but Sam doubted there was any way he could keep up with him if he pushed.  

Giddy with the idea, Sam walked into the living room and froze at the scent of coffee. He followed his nose to the kitchen and blinked at the sight.  Castiel was wearing almost the same outfit he was.  And sipping a cup of coffee.  Out of his mug.  "Coffee?"  

Castiel waved to the machine and took another long sip of his coffee.  "I apologize for helping myself to your coffee and maker.  I am not,"  he took another sip,  "what one would call a morning person."

Sam grinned a little bit.  He could sympathize with that.  It was early for someone who normally didn't get up at these hours.  "By all means,  help yourself."  

Castiel nodded and finished off the last of his coffee, taking his cup to the sink and rinsing it out, before leaving it there.  "Did you wish to have any before we left?"  

Sam shook his head and made his way over to the fridge.  He pulled out the orange juice and took a few gulps straight from the carton.  "Nah, I'll have some when I get back."  

"Very well."  Castiel turned off the coffee maker and turned to face Sam.  "I am ready whenever you would like to depart.  Do you have a preferred route?"  

He didn't, normally, but he was going to bust his ass over the hardest one that was available to make sure Castiel regretted following him as much as possible.  “Yeah, it goes through the hills nearby.  If you can’t keep up, that’s fine.  The route takes me about an hour.”  More like it took him the better part of an hour and a half, but he would figure out a way to get it done in an hour.  

“Then I would suggest that you lead the way,”  Castiel said, rolling his shoulders a little bit.  

Sam took a deep breath and reminded himself of his goal.  He was doing this to show Castiel that he did not need a bodyguard to follow him around every single minute of every day.  Hell, he didn't need a bodyguard living with him.  

~!~!~!~

The second Sam stepped out into the sunshine, he ratcheted back his plan a little bit.  He wanted to enjoy this sunshine.  He set a basic jog for the first mile and led the way into the hills.  He was missing his run by the lake now.  It would have been nice and cool and not sweltering.  Ah well.  Priorities.  

Now that he was nice and warmed up, he picked up the pace.  After a few hundred yards, Sam stopped looking behind him to see if Castiel was keeping up.  Maybe Castiel would just give up and head back to the house.

That thought was more than enough to carry him up the steeper elevations, flipping through the songs on his phone while he sweated.  It would be worth it.  Worth it.  The burning in his legs would be worth it and he could sit by the pool for the rest of the day and relax and try to breathe.  

By the time he got to the second half of the run, Sam was starting to lag.  Not to mention there was no way that he was going to finish the run in the time he had set for himself.  Dammit.  Damn his ego and his need to leave Castiel behind.  He stopped at a small food stand advertising fresh fruit and water. He got a bottle of water, drinking half of it before pouring the rest over his entire head.  Castiel had to be miles behind him (though not likely literally).

What he was not expecting was for Castiel to come up next to him and ask for a bottle of water as well.  Sam nearly dropped the bottle as he stared at Castiel.  The man barely looked winded, though his shirt was sticky with sweat and his cheeks were looking a little pink.  

Sam swallowed.  Castiel looked like he had just rolled out of bed after a few very good rounds of sex.  What was this?  How had he managed to keep up?  

"You seem surprised,"  Castiel said, looking up at Sam as he took another few gulps of water.  He finished the bottle off in short order and tossed it into the nearby trashcan.  “You set a slower pace than I was expecting.”  

He could not punch his bodyguard.  He could not.  Genevieve would kill him.  Castiel could have kept up with a faster pace?  Fuck, this had nearly killed him as-is!  What was he supposed to do with information like that?  “Uh, yeah.  It’s a little hotter out than I suspected.  Slowed down.”  

Thankfully Castiel seemed to buy the excuse and was in the middle of purchasing a second bottle of water so it didn’t look like he was going to get quizzed any further on it.  Thank fuck.  Sam also purchased a second bottle and looked out over the rest of the road they needed to run.  Fuck, he was an idiot.

By the time he got back to the house, Sam was ready to drop and not move for the rest of the day.  In fact, that sounded like a simply marvelous idea and something that he was going to do immediately.  

He opened the door and stumbled into the glorious air conditioning, breathing in the artificial air with a grin.  He left the door open for Castiel and made a beeline for the kitchen.  He put two glasses on the counter and filled one up with cold water, gulping it down a minute later before repeating it.  His muscles were burning with the exertion, so he slowed down the pace.  Sam took a couple of deep breaths and grinned.  He hadn't enjoyed a run this much in ages.  

It wasn't a run that he could take Atticus on either, unfortunately.  Too long and not near enough shade.  But when he wanted to burn off some anger, it was perfect.  He chuckled and drank his third glass of water a little slower, savoring it, before turning to look at his bodyguard.  The man still looked unruffled and unaffected by the run that they had just taken.  Impressive, considering that, from what he remember, it was at least a 10k.  

He stretched, his muscles enjoying the pull.  He should go jump in the pool and do a few laps, let himself cool down properly.  

"If you will excuse me Sam, I am going to go take a shower." Castiel said.  

Sam nodded and, well, shamelessly oogled Castiel's ass in those shorts as he walked away.  Dude was packing some serious muscles under those baggy and ill-fitting clothes of his.  He resisted the urge to whistle and went back to sipping his water.  He'd promised Gen.  

He left the glass on the counter and made his way out on the patio to the pool.  Stripping off his shirt, he dove in and sank to the bottom of the gloriously cold water before breaking to the surface.  Swimming was something he did for pleasure whereas he ran to keep in shape (as well as the other obscene amounts of exercise he did) and it was always great to indulge in as a cooldown.  

He did a few laps and closed his eyes to just float on the surface of the pool, relaxing into the water.  Gorgeous out today.  Maybe he would spend the entire day in the pool.  That was an idea that had serious merit.  Then he remembered that his fridge was nearly empty and that he needed to go grocery shopping.  Especially if Castiel was going to live with him.  Who knew how much the dude ate?  

And, eventually, they would need to talk and do more than exchange a few basic words.  Sam sighed.  Castiel was going to be with him everywhere.  On set, in hotels, at home.  This was insane.  He didn't need this sort of babysitting.  But he'd have to deal with it, at least for a little while, to appease Gen and for everyone to shut up about what had happened.  

He did one more lap of the pool before lifting himself out and over to the rack where he kept the towels.  Castiel was lucky.  Normally he would have been swimming in the nude.  But, no need to scare the bodyguard when he had only been working for him for a day.  That would just be more than a little ridiculous.  Sam chuckled and toweled his hair off before making his way inside.  He should shower and then eat something.  

...except he was pretty sure he didn't have any food.  Dammit.  This was just not his week.  

~!~!~!~

By the time Sam managed to get himself showered and dressed, he came back out to the kitchen with his stomach grumbling loudly.  They would need to go out and get food and he was supposed to be laying low, which meant there were only a couple of places he could go.  

He did not expect to see a small bag on the counter and a plate with two large cinnamon buns sitting on it from his favorite bakery two blocks down.  Sam groaned and dove for the plate, picking one up to take a gigantic bite of it.  Sugar, cinnamon, and bliss.  Utter and complete bliss.  

"I am glad to see that these choices are indeed your favorites.  The woman who owns the store assured me that they were, but I did not have a way to confirm with her,"  Castiel said, taking another sip of his coffee as he flipped through the newspaper.  

Sam blinked at him.  People still got newspapers?  He was pretty sure that he didn't get any of them delivered anymore.  Where had Castiel gotten it from?  He grunted and took another bite of his food.  

He had to remember that he needed to act around Castiel.  Stupid Hollywood. He had to play it to a T to make sure that he didn't have any surprises with Castiel.  That was the last thing that he needed.  "Yeah, these are great, thank you."  

Realization dawned on him.  He was going to have to play it everywhere.  At home, at work, during travel.  His time to switch off the 'persona' was going to disappear as a result of Castiel.  Resentment surged through him again.  

"I would recommend that we make a trip for groceries at some point in the day.  There are several meals that I can make with your ingredients here, but it would be pertinent to perhaps go today and shop for the remainder of the week,"  Castiel commented.  

Sam waved a hand and finished off his first cinnamon bun.  "Sure, if that floats your boat.  Don't expect me to go with you."  He ignored the way that Castiel's eyes narrowed at him and went to the fridge for another glass of water.  

"Are you that afraid to go outside?  I was not aware that your experiences had made you skittish,"  Castiel stated, eating his own croissant.  

Sam's hackles were up in an instant.  "I am not skittish!"  

"Yet you are afraid to go shopping?"  

Sam scowled.  "Look, if you want to go shopping for food, you are welcome to take my credit card and go.  I don't give two shits."  

Castiel tilted his head and stared at Sam.  Strange.  "I will not use your money without you present.  You would not be able to ensure the integrity of my purchases."  

Sam laughed, waving a hand around the house.  "Not to toot my own horn here, but I'm not exactly badly off.  I am hiring a full-time bodyguard."  

"I work for Genevieve, not for you,"  Castiel said, putting his plate into the sink.  "And I would not presume the state of your finances.  There are many people who have lived in locations as opulent as these and yet faced bankruptcy."  

He had a point, but Sam was not about to acknowledge it to him.  Dammit.  He took another sip of his water and started to eat the second cinnamon bun.  He sighed.  "Like I said.  You can go shopping if you want.  I am just going to order pizza later and read some scripts."  He'd probably end up making a trip to the store, but he wasn't about to admit this now.  

"I shall decline,"  Castiel said, putting the rest of the things in the bags away.  "But you will need dog food for Atticus."  

"Shit,"  Sam swore under his breath.  He had to go pick up Atticus this afternoon from Dean's.  He'd completely forgotten and Castiel was right, he did need to go pickup dog food.  "All right, we'll go to the store.  Whenever you are ready to go."  

Castiel nodded.  "I will get my things and then we can go."  He turned and left the kitchen.  

Sam took another big bite of his roll and flipped Castiel off as he turned away.  He knew when he had been played and dammit if he hadn't fallen exactly into the 'trap' that the bodyguard had set.  Bastard.  Utter and complete bastard.  

~!~!~!~

Five hours, a trip to the grocery store, and a trip to Dean's place later, Sam flopped on the couch of his home, Atticus immediately curling up in front of the couch with him.  He could hear Castiel putting away the groceries in the kitchen, but he couldn't make himself get up to help.  He didn't want to move.  

He'd been recognized in the grocery store.  Not only recognized, people had started asking for autographs and had been verging on what he might have called a mob before Castiel had intervened.  Sam blew out a slow breath, ruffling his bangs.  It might be intrusive as fuck having a bodyguard, but for the two minutes that Castiel had spoken to the crowd, he had been terrifying.  

Except for one little girl who had dashed up to him for a hug (he could never resist the little kids), the rest of the group had dispersed and he had been able to go around and finish his shopping.  Castiel hadn't said a word since, other than to comment that the fruit or vegetables that he was buying were not the freshest option before handing him something else.  

Sam sighed.  Well, the score was one in Castiel's favor, nothing for him.  He'd just been caught by surprise and...and it had been really handy to have someone there to bail him out when he had gotten in over his head.  

"Are you all right?"  

Sam opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling before forcing himself to answer.  "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"  

"You haven't said a word to me since you have been home,"  Castiel said, walking around to the front of the couch.  He sat down in a chair not far from the TV, a book in his hand.  

Sam reached down and scratched Atticus behind the ears, relaxing at the familiar motion.  He sighed.  He was acting like an asshole.  There was no need for it.  He owed Castiel a thank you for, well, he wasn't going to say rescuing, but rescuing him.  "Thank you."  

Castiel gave a quick smile.  "You are welcome.  But those were not the words I was looking for."  

Sam blinked before sitting up a fraction to look at Castiel.  "Did you just make a Star Wars reference?"  An eyebrow was quirked at him and Sam started laughing, sagging back into the couch.  "So you aren't a robot!"  

"My sweating this morning during our run would be a very firm indicator of that,"  Castiel said.  

Sam grinned and sat up on the couch, starting to relax.  Maybe he and Castiel would be able to get along after all.  "Wow, you actually have a sense of humor."  

"An odd one, I have been told, but yes,"  Castiel added, giving Sam a smile as he settled back into the seat.  

Okay.  He could work with that.  And shit, Castiel's smiles were deadly.  Maybe he should go back to ignoring him.  That definitely seemed like a better idea for his libido and whatever else was involved.  "Good to know."  

Castiel nodded and opened his book, flipping to the page he had left off on.  "Then I assume tomorrow morning we will go on your usual jog through the neighborhood and not the one up into the mountains?"  

Sam snorted and covered his eyes with his arm as he sank back into the couch.  "Was it that obvious?"  

"It was obvious that while you are in excellent shape, that is not a path you run often,"  Castiel said.  

Well, that was a backhanded compliment if he had ever received one, but he deserved it after that kind of a stunt.  "I was mad and needed to work off some steam."  

"Angry about what had happened?"  Castiel asked, looking over the edge of the book.  

"Actually."  Sam debated being honest for a moment before throwing caution to the wind.  "I was angry that Gen went and hired you without telling me.  She didn't give me a choice in the manner.  I tend to value my privacy and I've acted like a dick to you ever since meeting you."  

Castiel closed the book.  "I apologize, I shall leave you to--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake sit down,"  Sam said.  "I'm trying to apologize, at least let me get it out."  Castiel stopped moving, his hand on his closed book.  Sam sucked in another breath and tried to figure out how he wanted to word this.  "Look, Castiel--"

"You may call me Cas, if you like.  It's a nickname my brother prefers,"  Castiel offered.  

Sam smiled.  "Cas, right.  Yeah, that's easier.  Thanks."  He inhaled.  "Look, what happened to me was a freak accident.  They were able to knock me out enough to drag me into a bathroom, but I woke up and began struggling right away.  Someone noticed less than five minutes later."  

Castiel was staring directly at him now and Sam squirmed a little bit under the attention.  He cleared his throat and kept talking.  "What I’m trying to say is, I'm not some sort of fragile flower that needs protection.  I know how to protect myself.  I appreciate your help earlier, and I'm sorry for how I've treated you, but I'm really not loving this invasion of my privacy."  

"Ah."  Castiel nodded.  "Have you ever had a situation happen like what did at the grocery store this afternoon?"  

Sam shrugged.  "Small times, groups of three or four people, nothing I couldn't manage on my own.  But something like that?  No."  

"I do not doubt your ability to take care of yourself, Sam,"  Castiel said.  "But my job is to make sure that you are not made uncomfortable.  It is not to protect you because you are a..."  He raised his fingers into quotation marks.  "Fragile flower."  

Sam blinked and he resisted the urge to start laughing.  Oh fuck that was adorable.  And made him realize just how long and slim Castiel's fingers were.  "So...you aren't a protection detail?"  

Castiel fought down a smile.  "As you have pointed out, your frame is one that intimidates most.  You do not need protection as such.  Perhaps you do need someone so you are not alone, but you do not need protection."  

Sam blinked at Castiel again and thought about what he was supposed to say to that.  Huh.  Well.  Fuck.  Apparently Gen knew him better than he was willing to give her credit for.  

"I have surprised you,"  Castiel said.  

"Well, yeah, Cas.  I thought you were going to start dictating who I could see, what time I would be out, where I could go, shit like that,"  Sam said.  

Castiel tilted his head, staring at Sam.  "I do not see how any of that would possibly be conducive to a working relationship between the two of us.  Perhaps if I were trying to make you angry..."  

Sam started laughing again, he wasn't able to help it.  "Oh God, Cas.  I think we're going to be just fine.  Juuuuust fine."  

"I am glad that you think so.  Perhaps next time we go shopping we can go at a far less busy time?"  He offered.  

Sam grinned.  "Yeah.  I normally go on Saturday mornings.  Early.  They're not busy in the slightest then, and most of the cashiers know me."  

Castiel nodded.  "Perfect."  

Sam stretched out on the couch.  Hmm.  He might actually be sore tomorrow.  He'd pushed himself a little bit too hard running today.  "So, tell me about yourself, Cas.  You already know I'm a young Hollywood asshole, so you know everything you need to know about me."  

"I have four siblings, all older than me.  I was teased and bullied a great deal when I was younger.  I started taking self-defense classes at age six,"  Castiel said.  

Sam snorted.  "So I bet you're a serious badass now, aren't you?"  

"My five black belts and various other certifications would agree with you."

Sam's eyes widened a bit and he looked back over at Castiel.  No perverted thoughts, no perverted thoughts.  Holy shit. "Five?"  

"As well as a variety of others, yes."  Castiel said, nodding in confirmation.  "I can provide the qualifications for you if you'd like."  

Sam choked a little bit on his next breath.  Fucking hell that was the last thing that he needed.  To know just how strong Castiel was.  "How'd you get into the private detail work?"  

"I am very unobtrusive.  Often, would-be assailants do not notice I am there.  This allows me to be very effective, like earlier,"  Castiel explained, settling his book down on his knee.  "I do not have a body type people find intimidating and I dress to enhance that assumption.  This allows me the highest possible level of effectiveness."  

"Holy shit, that's hot,"  Sam muttered, ignoring the confused look from Cas.  Good, he hadn't heard.  Shit.  Someone who purposely deceived everyone he was around so he could do his job more effectively.  Sam could have been looking in a damn mirror.  "I can relate."  

"How?"  Castiel asked, tilting his head to study Sam.  

Sam blew out a long breath.  Maybe, maybe he could take a shot at this.  Then he wouldn't have to go running to Dean's house every time he needed to unwind and stop being the guy Hollywood thought he was.  That would be divine in the best possible way.  "So, here's the thing."  

Castiel was listening so intently, Sam could feel every ounce of Castiel's focus on him.  He shivered, wondering what it would be like to have that kind of focus pointed at you in bed.  Fuck.  Okay.  Not sexy thought time.  "So, I put on a persona here.  With...everyone.  Genevieve, my friends, people I work with, stuff like that."  

"Why?"  

"I--"  Sam bit down on his lip.  For the first time, his normal answer did not seem like enough.  "Because it's easier."  

"Easier?"  Castiel asked.  

Sam shrugged.  "It's hard to explain.  But when I first got here, people were... I guess I can say turned off by me.  By my earnestness and how energetic I was.  If I acted the epitome of 'Young Hollywood' it was like the playing field was even again.  They knew how to treat me.  I started getting jobs and callbacks that I hadn't before."  

He sucked in a breath and dropped his eyes down to the carpet.  "I started getting more and more well known.  Being offered regular parts, not just one-off roles in smaller shows.  Becoming a season regular.  As long as I acted in a way that everyone knew and understood, it worked.  I haven't stopped since."  

"I see."  Castiel nodded and settled back into the chair.  "You do not need to act that way around me.  I do not care."  

Sam blinked again as Castiel opened the book and focused on it again.  He felt winded, like the confession should have meant so much more to Cas than it did.  “I...  That’s it?”  

Castiel looked up at Sam and tilted his head to the side.  "I beg your pardon?"  

"I tell you that everything I do, how I talk to everyone, is fake, and you just...don't care?"  Sam asked.  

"No.  You do not need to be that way around me.  I suspect I shall enjoy working with you much more if you do not."  Castiel turned his attention back to his book.  

Sam watched as Cas read a few more words before those blue eyes (christ, they were bluer than the damn ocean) focused on him again.  "Unless you have additional concerns?"  

"I..."  Sam pushed his fingers through his hair and tried to figure out if he did have additional concerns.  It definitely didn't feel like it, but he was completely thrown off by Cas now.  Cas just didn't give two shits about what he did in his personal and his work life.  That was refreshing in a way he didn't want to look too closely at.  He swallowed.  "No.  No, I don't.  Thanks."  

"There is no need to thank me, Sam,"  Castiel said, returning his attention to his book.