I wrote this... Jesus H. Christ, last weekend. Yeah. I've been that backed-up. And then I had the lovely Non Timebo Mala (or is it Malo? idek how she put it down) beta it. So. HEre it is.

The title is after a show that airs on the CW or at least used to, called My Wife And Kids. It was about this black family (wow, i sound a little racist here. I'm not btw. I have several black/cape verdean cousins i love dearly and many friends that are african american. I love everyone!) and their life pretty much. Really awesome show. There was a dad, mom, two daughters (a 17 year old and a 9 year old i think were their ages) and they had a son who was like, 19. Funny show, but this was the only title i could think of. So.

Disclaimer: I don't own SPN, though i should and nice shit like this would happen all the time. Also: I do not, REPEAT: DO-FUCKING-NOT, own Dashiel Coffee Winchester. He's not mine. I stole him from the internet Fandom. But i do love him so. So.

Current Song: Still listening to my Surivivor vinyl. The song is now called Santa Ana Winds.

Current Mood: Erm... room still messy, my claustrophobia is gaining on me because of this and i'm having a shit attack rigth about now. So much shit everywhere, nowhere to fucking put it. So. A bit wrecky right about now.

My Wife And Kids

Dean wipes a hand across his face and checks the clock on the wall. Yup. It's 6:00 PM and if he gets out now, he can make it home by 7:00, two hours earlier than anyone is expecting him. Of course, he'll have to sneak out, and at that without his boss seeing him, but he's been here since 6:00 at night yesterday so a whole 24 hours definitely warrants going home early. At least, Dean thinks so.

He's a correctional officer at Lawrence City Jail. No, it's not a fun job. Yes, it pays extremely well. Yeah, he likes it well enough. No, he's not leaving anytime soon. He gets his weekends off, he gets most of his mornings to himself, even if that means working the night shift and getting scared the crap out of by the inmates in the dark. But that's ok. Dean is ok with that.

He shuts down his computer, punches out, and starts to slink toward the door. Of all days, he should be able to get away with it on this one, because this is one of the most important days of the year...

"Winchester," Dean hears and cringes. He was right at the door too. Damnit. "Where do you think you're going so soon?"

Dean turns around and sure enough, wearing his no bullshit face is Special Agent Victor Henrikson. His boss. "Boss! Hey! Um... I was thinking I've been here for 24 hours and I want to go home. So. Is there a problem with that?"

Henrikson folds his arms across his chest and nods. "Yup. You didn't clear it with me. Any other guy, I'd say sayonara, but you, Dean Winchester, had to subdue three inmates today and I'm supposed to make sure that you are mentally alright."

Dean wants to roll his eye, but he knows that's a rookie mistake. He'd done it his first day here almost ten years ago and Henrikson hadn't wasted anytime smacking him in the head and telling him to respect his superiors. So Dean keeps the eye-roll to himself. "I'm A-ok, Boss. Just peachy. Can I go now?"

Henrikson gives Dean this look and it's a curious look and Dean knows that when Henrikson's curious, someone's usually screwed. "What is it that you have to get to so bad?"

"Home," Dean says blandly. He looks at the clock on the wall. 6:05. C'mon Henrikson, he thought, ask me about this some other time.

"Really?" the darker man says. "Because I've seen men who want to go home after pulling a 24 hour shift, and they don't look like you. They look bone-tired and gross and they don't give a damn how they look. You don't look like that. You don't show how tired you are anywhere but your eyes. Who are you putting up a front for, I wonder?"

Dean wants to smack his head into the wall a few times. He has no time or patience for this. His boss can go shove it for all Dean cares. But he takes a deep breath and says, "Today is kind of an important day for me, so. I want to get home."

Henrikson looks a bit surprised. "Yeah? What's so special about today? It somebody's birthday? I don't know much about you Winchester. You've been here for ten years and you don't talk much. I'd like to know, now, if you don't mind."

Dean is going to kill his boss. It's inevitable. It really is. He had to pick today of all day's to be curious about Dean's life. Today. Of all the days, of all the 365 days of the year he had to pick September 18 to do it. Asshole. "Can't we talk about this when I come in tomorrow?" Dean asks. He can't do this. He's tired and he wants to go and see them. His family.

Henrikson shakes his head. They are literally the only ones in the offices right now, all the first shift people leaving and showering, all the second shift people coming in in a few minutes. "Nope. Now Winchester. You pulled a long shift. You also don't listen to me on a regular basis, seeing as I told you to let Gallagher handle Alistair and Azazel , but you went in and subdued them anyway. So. You owe me a minute of your... precious time."

Dean knew that would come back to bite him in the ass, so he sighs closes his eyes and says, "Today is my anniversary." He opens them to see Henrikson's eyes open wide in shock. It's a bit satisfactory. "Happy?" he asks.

But his boss starts to laugh then, and that gets under Dean's skin. "Wow. How long have you been dating? Three weeks? Three months?"

Dean knew this was coming, it was why he never liked to tell people his personal business. "Five years," Dean says, cutting Henrikson's laugh short. "I've been married for five years. And before that, dating for three."

"You're married?" his boss says. "You expect me to believe that you're married?"

Dean takes the chain around his neck out from under his shirt. He doesn't wear it when he does his rounds; someone could choke him with it. But he had put it on when he came back to the office. It's a necklace chain with a silver wedding band strung on it. . "Yes Victor, I'm married. Feast your eyes. It's not just for show."

Henrikson goes closer and holds the band in his hands. He looks on the inside and sure enough, today's date, five years ago is engraved on the inside of it. That, along with the initials D&C. "Dean and... Cassandra?" Henrikson guesses and Dean cringes inwardly. This was why he kept his business to himself.

"Dean and Castiel," Dean corrects.

"What the hell kind of name is that?" Henrikson says.

"Angelic," Dean says. "Seriously. Real religious parents and all." He laughs at that thought. Tries not to make it obvious.

"What's so funny?" Henrikson asks, because he still catches it.

"Nothing," Dean says and smiles.

"So you've been married to this girl for five years?" Henrikson shakes his head. "Damn. Who'd of thunk it?"

Dean suddenly gets uncomfortable. He usually isn't, not really, but this is his boss and Henrikson's a good guy, besides being a pain in the ass, and Dean doesn't want the man to think any less of him. But he has to say it. He can't not. It's not right and Dean loves Castiel more than he cares about what Henrikson thinks of him.

So he sighs and says, "Uh, no actually."

Henrikson gives him a look. "No? What do you mean no? You just said-"

Dean holds up a hand and Henrikson stops. He gestures to Henrikson's office and they both walk in. He closes the door. "No. I've been married to this guy for five years."

Henrikson freezes where he went behind his desk. He turns around slowly to Dean with a confused look on his face and says, "Excuse me?"

Dean sits down and runs a hand through his hair. "I have been married to Castiel, my husband, for five years. I married a dude. Yes, Victor, I'm gay. There. I said it."

There's a moment and then Victor says, "You got a picture?"

Dean's a bit surprised so he just nods and fishes his wallet out from where he replaced it in his pocket after he got off his shift. He opens the worn leather thing and pulls a fairly recent picture of Castiel out of it. He hands it to Victor. "That's him."

Victor is straight; he is. But even he has to admit that Castiel Winchester is a fine looking man. He has black hair that curls a bit at his temples and looks like he just rolled out of bed, and big, wide sapphire eyes. His lips are a bright pink and are plump and chapped. He's smiling widely into the camera, all teeth and gums. He seems fairly lean, maybe a bit shorter than Dean. His tie is on backwards, and he looks a bit disheveled and he's wearing...

"What the hell is that?" Victor asks.

And Dean knows exactly what he's talking about. He's looked at that picture millions of times and even he still reacts like that. He smiles a bit and answers, "The trench coat?"

Victor sits down. "Is that what he calls it?"

Dean nods. "When we were dating, he bought it and he brought it home. We were already living together then. Anyway, he comes in and the first second I saw it, I hated it. A week later, I burned it in the fireplace."

Victor looks up at Dean. "You burned your boyfriend's coat?"

"Dude," Dean says, "That thing." He groans. "It was sooo hard to one, take off, two, he never took it off and three, it was so damn ugly I thought I'd puke if I saw it one more time. So I burned it. And we fought about it. And then I went out and bought him another one. Exactly like the first. So that one there isn't the original. That's the second one."

Victor blinked at Dean and said, "Wait, let me get this straight. You burned it because you hated it, then you bought him another one? Why?"

Dean blushes a bit then shrugs and says, "Let's put it this way. You have a girlfriend right?" Victor nods because Natalie and him have been going out for three months so yes, he considers that a girlfriend. "Now think of it like this: you tell her that yes, her ass does in fact look fat in those jeans. Will you be getting any? No. She will withhold the goods from you for like, ever, if you don't apologize and make it up to her. That's what happened with Cas. He was closed for business. I went on a dry-streak of about a week before I said, fuck this. Where the hell do I buy the coat?" Henrikson's mouth drops open and Dean continues. "And you know what? Me and that coat? We are the best of friends. Seriously. I love that thing now. Do you know what you can do with a trench coat that big and baggy?"

Henrikson blinks at him. "Are you serious?"

Dean nods. "Completely."

Victor never thought he'd be having this conversation with Dean mother-fucking Winchester of all people. And if it was any consolation to him, neither did Dean.

"Well alright then." Victor hands the picture back, feeling like a bit of his decency just withered away. Dean takes the picture back, feeling victorious. Score one for Dean Winchester. Then Henrikson asks the question Dean never thought he'd ask. "Any kids?" Dean smiles then and he knows it's huge and goofy because Henrikson says, "Oh boy," and Dean fishes another picture out of his wallet, replacing Cas's. He hands it to Henrikson and the man whistles. "Holy shit, you adopted four of them?"

"Yup," Dean says. "The one in the AC/DC t-shirt is Ben. Next to him in the striped onsie is Jesse. On the ground with the blond hair is my Claire-bear, and next to her sitting in the corner looking kinda pissy is Dash."

Henrikson looks up and says, "Dash?"

Dean rolls his eyes. "Dashiel." He waves his hand. "The other kids had normal names like Dean. 'Cause Dean is normal. So... well Dash is kinda special so Cas wanted him to have a special name. Cast-iel. Dash-iel. See where I'm coming from?"

Henrikson was willing to believe that Dean had a husband. Ok, that's fine. But four kids? No way in hell. "You do not have four kids," he says.

Dean's face goes a bit dark at that. "Yes, I do. They're right there. Benjamin James Winchester, Jesse Nicholas Winchester, Claire Amelia Winchester and Dashiel Coffee Winchester. Those are my kids."

Henrikson should be intimidated. And he would be. If he hadn't heard the last name. "Dashiel Coffee Winchester? Now you're shitting me." And he laughs.

Dean has a faint smirk on his face. "We had no idea what kind of middle name to give a kid with a name like Dashiel. Until he started to drink my coffee through a straw one day and I couldn't say no to Cas when he asked to put that down in the adoption papers as his middle name. Yeah, we got some weird looks, but everyone just assumed we were those odd, new-age types." Dean shrugged. "Those are really my kids. I mean, they're about three and four now, but that's them a few years back."

They are adorable, Henrikson has to admit. He hands the picture back. And suddenly he feels guilty for giving Dean all those hours of overtime all those years. He never knew Dean had something to go home to, had this to go home to. A family. And given the nature of Dean's job and how dangerous it could be, it was surprising Dean was still around, since if he was gone, he'd be leaving a lot behind.

Henrikson wants to ask Dean where he got legalized. He wants to ask if Dean's brother knows. He wants to ask what Castiel's employment is. Since the first two seem to personal, he goes for the last one. "So... your husband. Where does he work?"

"Who Cas? Oh. He's a theology teacher at Lawrence University." Dean scratches his nose idly.

"So, he teaches theology, had strict religious parents, and he's still gay? How the hell did that happen?"

Dean smiles cheekily. "He met me."

"And how did that unfortunate circumstance happen?" Henrikson asks dryly.

Dean makes a face. Then he shrugs. "Well, like all gay-romances, ours is not cliché." Dean sees Henrikson's eyebrow twitch in impatience and then he says, "I almost got hit by a car and he pulled me out of the way."

Henrikson blinks a bit then says, "Wait, a second. Are you meaning to tell me that day you came in, the one where you pissed yourself because you were almost in an accident, that was when you met him?"

Dean blinks back. "Dude. How the hell do you even remember that? That was like, eight years ago. I was still fairly new here."

Henrikson lifts an eyebrow. "It's hard to forget when a grown man pisses himself." Dean blushes. "And despite you pissing yourself, he still gave you a second look?"

Dean shrugs. "He actually left his planner in my car. He drove me here after that," Dean explains before Henrikson asks. "I was walking across from the University. Nice coffee shop across from it. He was going in, leaving the same coffee shop." Dean hums. "So, yeah. Maybe a bit clichéd actually."

"So what'd you do? Bring it back to him? The planner, I mean?" Henrikson asks.

Dean nods. "Yeah. His name and class were inside the front cover along with the school. So I walked in and told the secretary Cas had left his planner in my car. She uh..." He looks away now. "She said she was glad he finally got the stick out of his ass and was banging somebody." Henrikson laughs and Dean does too. "Anyway, she let me right up. I kinda barged in on the class and he just blinked at me and was all, what's going on? I just handed him the planner and he kinda paled and said he didn't even know it was missing. Thanked me a lot. Made me sit in on his class. Then I took him out to lunch since he literally saved me." Dean shrugs. "And the rest, as they say, is history."

"Who proposed?" Victor says without thinking. He winces. "Sorry. That was a bit too personal."

Dean shrugs. "It's fine." Then he smiles. "I did. Kind of. I was a bit nervous to, until one day he told me to get my act together or else he would ask me." He smiles and shakes his head. "Yeah. I should be so lucky."

Henrikson watches how Dean absolutely relaxes when he talks about the other man, the honest smile on his face, the pure happiness. He's no homophobe; he just never thought he could see one person so happy with another. Henrikson hands back the picture of the Winchester kids and asks, "How 'bout them kids of yours? Where did they come from?"

Dean sighs and sits back. "Well Ben," and now he points to the little boy in the AC/DC t-shirt with dark brown hair and brown, almond-shaped eyes. "His mom was seventeen and had hooked up with some biker in a bar. She had a fake ID." He shrugs. "She was looking for someone to take him. She couldn't support him. She still wanted to go to college, make a living. She couldn't with him. Luckily, we were visiting some family I have up in Cicero, Indiana, which is where she was living. It was a year after we had gotten married," and Victor finds it a bit satisfying that Dean still calls it marriage, "My brother is a klutz and had to go to the ER. Broke his wrist. We were in the hospital when she was going in for her monthly check-up. She was...7 months pregnant?" He shrugs. "Any way, Cas started talking to her while we were in the waiting room. He can be anti-social, but once he gets talking, you can't shut him up. So he's talking to her, and all of a sudden, when I come out of the hospital room, looking to sign Sammy's discharge papers, he just-" Now Dean makes weird hand motions. "He attacks me. Seriously. And he's like, putting on the puppy-eyes and stuff and I'm like, oh shit. What now?"

Henrikson is just staring in wide-eyed fascination as Dean tells the story as animatedly as a parent would tell the birthing of their child. It's Dean's equivalent to that, Victor realizes.

"So he shows me Lisa and I immediately knew what he wanted. And I was like, no. I'm not ready for a kid. And she just gives me this look and nods, like she was used to getting that reaction. So I back-tracked and was like, ok, name, age, what the fuck did you do to get pregnant? So she tells me. Then she goes into why she can't keep the baby. And I'm like, look, that sucks. And kids are awesome. But..." Dean looks a bit uncomfortable now. "Can I tell you something and trust it won't get spread around?"

Henrikson nods. He's been taken into Dean's confidence thus far. He'd like that to continue.

Dean takes a breath and goes, "Dad... wasn't around a lot. My mom died when I was four and then... yeah. Dad wasn't so stable. Got himself killed by mom's arson killer, which you know, of course." And Henrikson did. John Winchester was famous in the Homicide Division of the LPD. He didn't know what life at home was like. He thought that since Dean was following in his father's foot steps and working in law enforcement that everything was fine. Hell, even Sam was a lawyer. "I basically raised Sammy. He, as you don't know- and I don't want this going anywhere..." Henrikson nods. "He had a... drug issue. Anyway." Dean says it quick. Henrikson takes this to mean that it wasn't so slight. He doesn't press. "I raised him and for a while, Sam wasn't doing so good. For a while, I thought I had no one to blame but me." Henrikson knows that that isn't right. But Dean doesn't look like he'll listen. So he drops that. "So when Cas said that he wanted kids, I was a bit iffy. What if I didn't do a good job? What if I turned out like my dad? What if they turned out like Sam was a few years back?" Dean shrugs. "Stupid, I know. I still said no."

"Well then how did you get Ben then?" Henrikson asks.

Dean gives a tiny smile. "She told us it was a boy." Henrikson gives him an unimpressed look. Dean shrugs. "Yeah, yeah, I know. A bit sexist. But." Dean smiles. "It was worth saying I'd think about it. We exchanged info and then she started sending ultrasound pictures and then I couldn't say no. Hell, I thought of a name and knew I was screwed when Cas agreed and said he liked it. Two months later, Ben was born. We have Lisa's number still. But she said that she doesn't want him to know who she is. A bit of a shame. Cas and I really don't mind."

"Was it easier to say yes to kids after Ben then?" Henrikson says.

Dean nods. "Yeah. A few months of him and I wanted another one." He shrugs. "So. Cas has a twin, James. We call him Jimmy. Anyway, Jimmy's a social worker."

"I see where this is going," Henrikson says then.

Dean nods. "Yeah. Anyway, he lives... not here." Dean blushes a bit. "Sorry. He kinda has a bad rep with the police department so he doesn't like his city and stuff thrown around."

"Bad rep?"

"He fights hard for those kids," Dean says. "He's a bit aggressive with law enforcement." He waves a hand. "So. Jimmy was real close with this girl Amelia. She was raped by her second cousin who was also her legal guardian. So he pulled her from the house."

Henrikson sees the horror on Dean's face, feels it himself. "How old was she?" Dean is quiet for a minute. "Dean...?"

Dean swallows. "She was 13 years old." Dean shakes his head slowly. "Anyway." He clears his throat. "She had just had a baby. Claire," Dean clarifies. "Except Amelia couldn't stand to look at her. She wouldn't go near her and the baby had to be taken away. So, he called us and asked if we were interested in adopting or at least fostering Claire. Of course we said we would foster her, although I said adopt. Cas said no. Until he saw her. Then he said he changed his mind and asked if we could push for an adoption. She was so... small and fragile and had the biggest blue eyes." Dean points to the little blond girl on the floor who's smiling bashfully into the camera. He still looks sad though.

"What happened?" Henrikson asks generally.

"We adopted Claire. And then we found out a few weeks later that Amelia committed suicide." Dean is silent. "After all that..." Dean blinks away what might be tears. He hates to think about Amelia. He hates how much it hurts that the woman, if you could all her that, who gave him his beautiful baby-girl was gone, had taken her own life. It was so... tragic. Especially after everything that happened to her.

"I'm sorry," Henrikson says, although he knows it was a while ago.

Dean shrugs. "We went to the funeral. Jimmy was crushed. Apparently, she'd been doing so well. Then they needed her to go on the stand to testify against the man who raped her and...she killed herself the same night." Dean shakes his head. "Just... really sad is all."

Victor wants desperately to change the subject. So he points to the little boy in the striped onsie. "How about him? Jesse, right?"

Dean cracks a broken kind of smile and then looks down at the picture. "Little Jesse." He shakes his head. "He's a few months younger than the other two. His mother had an abusive boyfriend, broke up with him, then found out she was pregnant. She was just a woman we happened to pass. She was waiting outside the adoption agency, so she could already get it settled that she didn't want him. She was moving after he was born and adopted. We were walking around the neighborhood with Ben and Claire, Ben was about seven months and Claire was six, and she saw us and kind of just straight out asked us if we wanted another kid."

"Just like that?" Henrikson says.

Dean nods. "So weird. Literally. Cas was kinda like, what the fuck? And I just said, what? And then she actually explained. She didn't want the kid, she was moving states, that kind of thing. We said no. We had two kids already. At that point we were good." He makes a face. "Funny thing. She had the baby a week later and then he was put into foster care. Except he was brought back to them. The family that was fostering him said that he screamed all night, wouldn't sleep and then was quiet all day. Really weird stuff."

Henrikson leans back. "So the baby was a freak?" Dean gives him a dark look and Henrikson belatedly remembers that that 'freak' was now Dean's son, so he smiles apologetically. "Sorry."

"Yeah you are," Dean says. "Yeah. He was... odd. Anyway, we only found out because we were leaving the social worker that had been with us to watch us about a year after we adopted the kids."

"Why?" Henrikson asks.

Dean gets an ugly look on his face. "Normally, they don't really do that for so long. But we were... same-sex parents. So they just wanted to be sure." The way Dean says the words, Henrikson gets the feeling he's quoting someone else. He clears his throat. "We were leaving her, and - she was really nice, her name's Pamela Barnes, we kept in touch. So, we were waiting for her to sign our paperwork and the third foster family brought him back in and wanted a meeting with the head of the agency. They couldn't take care of him. So we thought it was kind of weird and when Pam came out, she sighed like this was normal and said that was the new baby that had come in a few months ago and couldn't stay in one house for long. So we said we could foster him for a while if that was ok. And she said yes, because we had passed all the tests and qualifications and stuff and had two other kids, so why not?"

Henrikson watches as Dean catches his breath. How long had they even been talking?

"We didn't know who he was yet. His mom hadn't really given him a name so they were just calling him Travis." Dean rolls his eyes. "Eeww. We stayed with him until he was six months and then decided that yes, we wanted him. So we went back, changed his name to Jesse, then found out who his mom was. We remembered her name from the first time we met and... it was really weird. By then, Ben and Claire were one already and were attached to him. And he loved them. So we got to keep Jesse, Pam was assigned to us again, and we were pretty happy."

Henrikson is dying to know how he never noticed any of this going on. So he says, "Damn Winchester. I had no idea. You're really good at keeping work and personal life separated, you know that?"

Dean smiles. "I try. And that's the point."

Henrikson points to the last toddler in the picture, Dashiel, the pissy looking one. "So. Dashiel. What about him. Why is he so... what did you say before, special?"

Dean smiles. "Cas and I found Dash in an alley."

"You what?"

"Yeah." Dean smiles and shakes his head. "Uh..., the other three rug-rats were being baby-sat by Sammy and Cas's older brother Gabe." Dean holds a hand up, stopping Victor from asking his obvious question. "And no, I have no idea what kind of relationship my baby brother has with that smarmy douche of a brother in law of mine. And, quite frankly, I don't want to know."

"Trouble with the in-laws?" Henrikson asks, smiling. Then he stops. Because he probably did have problems with the in-laws. They were super-religious, as he remembers Dean saying. They probably... he doesn't know. Disowned Castiel. Or something.

"Inevitable," Dean says. "My mother and father-in-law disowned all of us and any of their kids who associated with us. Therefore, the kids have one uncle from me and three from Cas and an aunt from Cas."

"That's... more than I expected."

"Yeah. Us too. Jimmy we got. Cas was his twin. Gabriel we understood; dude's not straight either. Balthazar and Anna... well, they were a bit of a surprise, but a nice one. Mike and Lucy didn't want anything to do with us, Zach, Raph and Uriel either. Neither did his other sister Rachel."

"Wait," Henrikson says for the millionth time. "Lucy's a man?"

"Lucy is short for Lucifer." Henrikson finds that immensely creepy. So does Dean. "I told you. Creepy religious. All their kids named after angels. Even fallen ones."

"That is just...wrong. Naming your kid after the Devil?" Victor shakes his head. "Wrong."

"Dude. That's what I said."

"So what kind of angel is Castiel?" Henrikson asks.

"The angel of Thursday," Dean says proudly. "The day we met and the day we got married, actually."

Victor shakes his head. "The fact that you know that..."

"What, what kind of angel he was? Or the day we met?" Dean asks.

"Both," Victor says with a smile. "So, Dashiel."

"Yeah. We found him abandoned in an alley. So we just kinda picked him up, brought him in to the authorities. Stuck by the little guy for the entire process of trying to find out who he was and where he belonged. They came up with zilch. After a while, they let us take him. He was a bit sick, only a couple of months old. Was in the alley for a few days." Dean looks mad as he speaks. "They just... left him there. Whoever it was. We still don't know and it's been... three years. It was a few months after Jesse. He's actually only two months younger than Jess. Anyway. He still hasn't spoken. He doesn't like strangers. He's... sensitive, I guess. He's gonna be trouble when he's older though. He's sneaky."

Henrikson makes a face. "Does he have a speech problem?"

Dean shakes his head. "No. We had him checked out. The doctor said he just doesn't want to talk and when he's ready he will." He looks at the little boy with green eyes and jet black hair and sighs. Then he looks at his watch, the thought just coming to him. 7:00. Crap. Dean gives a nervous laugh as he tucks the photo back into his wallet. "Well, Henrikson, this has been... a fairly interesting conversation. Probably the most interesting that I've had in a while. Can I go home now?"

Victor has half a mind to say no just to screw with him, but then he sees in Dean's eyes just how much he wants to go home and nods. "Get outta here, Winchester. Why are you always loitering around after you're off your shift?"

Dean gives him a false dirty look and gets up. "Yeah. Whatever. See you..." He almost says tomorrow. But he realizes it's a Friday. "See you Monday."

Before he can get weaseled into working the weekend, Dean's out, running to his car, making his way home to the five people that matter most to him.

Dean pushes it to 75 miles per hour and somehow doesn't get caught speeding. He makes it home in half an hour, instead of the hour it usually takes him.

Dean sneaks into his own house. He can hear squealing in the living room so he skirts past that room and slides into the kitchen. He's an hour and a half earlier than he usually is after he pulls a 24 hour shift. No one is expecting him. Hell, the kids are usually asleep when he gets home. The fact that they're awake makes his heart ache, he's so happy.

Castiel is cooking. They don't usually do anything special on their anniversaries, since pretty much all of them have been spent with children in the house. They don't really want to anyway. Their kids are as much a part of the anniversary as the two of them are.

Cas is in loose jeans and one of Dean's old band t-shirts from college. He's bare-foot, which means he must have been playing with the kids at some point in the living room, and he's nodding his head to the soft strains of Iron & Wine's Innocent Bones, one ear out on the toddlers in the next room. He's making something that smells delicious and suspiciously like Dean's favorite meal, which warms his heart even more than the warm cooking air does.

Castiel isn't aware that Dean is home. Dean just takes off his walkie-talkie, his badge, his utility belt, gun and tazer, puts it all on the table out of reach of little, grabby hands, and walks over to his husband, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on Castiel's shoulder, giving the crook of his neck a kiss and murmuring, "Happy Anniversary, Cas."

Castiel doesn't act like what Dean has done is odd, doesn't even jump at the sudden intrusion; just smiles and continues cooking, turning his head to say, "I bet you don't know how many years it's been."

Dean grunts ungracefully and says, "I've been stuck with you for five years."

"Oh stuck with me, are you?" Castiel says as he puts the cover on his pot, turns around in Dean's embrace so that he's facing him, crosses his arms across his chest and lifts an eyebrow.

"Best five years of my life," Dean says softly as he leans in.

"Much better," Castiel says as he meets Dean halfway, like he's been doing for what seems like forever, kissing him softly, fisting Dean's shirt in his hands. He pulls back and smiles. "Much, much better."

Dean's about to take it further, deepen the kiss, when he hears little feet pit-pattering on the hard wood and whispers against Cas's lips, "This isn't over. We will continue later, in the privacy of being behind closed doors." He kisses Castiel quick on the mouth, feeling the smile form that matches his own, then turns around and walks forward a bit just in time.

Claire is the first one whipping into the room. "Daddy!" she squeals, her long, blond hair whipping behind her. She's in a pink, long-sleeved t-shirt and green shorts, her feet bare from playing on the carpet in the other room. She has the biggest smile on her face and her blue eyes are shining as she throws herself into Dean's arms where he's crouched down, waiting for her. "I missed you sooo much!" she says in a slightly lisped voice, burying her face in his neck. He picks her up and she clings to him.

Rubbing her back and trying not to feel all choked up like he usually does, and failing mind you, Dean says, "I missed you too, baby-girl." He kisses her forehead and hears more feet coming down the hall.

Ben breaks into the kitchen next. "Daddy!" he yells ridiculously and throws himself at Dean's knees, almost toppling him and Claire. "You're back," Ben says in a muffled little voice at Dean's legs, his face pressed to the fabric of Dean's work pants.

"'Course I am, buddy," Dean says, running his fingers through Ben's soft hair.

It takes a few more seconds, but then Jesse and Dashiel come through the kitchen doorway. Ben and Claire have always been closer; the same went for Jesse and Dashiel. Jesse is the only one Dashiel talks to, according to Jesse. Currently, Jesse is dragging Dashiel by the hand into the kitchen. Apparently, the other little boy wasn't going fast enough for Jesse.

"Come on, Dashie, Daddy's here. You so slow," Jesse says, his words clumsy. Jesse is also the only one Dashiel lets call him 'Dashie'. Everyone else gets a glare.

Dashiel is silent but he does speed up and they both go colliding into Dean's leg's joining Ben. "Daddy!" Jesse kind of gurgles. Dashiel just tightens his grip on Dean's pants to show that he's acknowledging him.

"Hey Jess, hey Dash," Dean says as he ruffles their hair in turns. "You guys being good to your Poppa?" Dean asks, half turning to see Castiel where he's leaned against the closed stove, arms crossed, a smile on his face.

"Yes!" the boys, minus Dash, and Claire chorus.

Dean looks down at his sons and then says, "Have you guys been being good to your sister?"

"Ye-" Jesse and Ben start, but Castiel gives them a look and soon they're shaking their heads slowly like Dashiel is. "I dunno."

"You don't know?" Dean turns to Claire. "What happened, Claire-bear?"

Claire shrugs. "Jesse pulled my hair and then Dash laughed. Then Ben laughed." She shrugs. "S'ok." Then she smiles wickedly. "I put glue on their chairs. So it's all better."

Dean starts to laugh and Castiel rolls his eyes, walking over and taking her from Dean's arms. "Yes. It's all better except Poppa has to clean up after all of you and you all get in trouble and sit in time out." He Eskimo kisses her nose and blows raspberries into her neck, making Claire giggle. "And that is not fun, is it?" The four toddlers shake their heads 'no', Claire with left over giggles, and Castiel nods. "That's what I thought. Now. Dinner is going to be in five minutes. Boys," and then he turns to the little girl in his arms, "Claire, go wash up." He puts Claire down and she scampers off with her brothers. She and Ben lead the way to the downstairs bathroom. Jesse waits for Dash to un-cling himself from Dean's pants, then quietly grabs his hand and tows him off to the bathroom.

Castiel watches them go then shakes his head. "Sometimes I think there's something going on with those two," he says softly and smiles a bit.

"Dude. You're preaching to the choir. So." He smiles crookedly at Cas. "C'mere." Castiel saunters over and Dean kisses him again. Then he groans. "Ok. I need to sit. I'm bushed."

Castiel swats him on the arm. "Why didn't you do that before?"

"Our kids ambushed me?" Dean says then laughs as Castiel pushes him down onto a kitchen chair. And sits in his lap, straddling his waist. Dean wraps his arms around his partner's waist and rubs their noses together before kissing him slowly. "I thought dinner was in five minutes."

Castiel hums his assent then says, "But those four are going to take forever. Claire won't be able to reach the sink, so the boys will try and boost her up-"

"-and when she finally uses the toilet bowl instead she's gonna get soap everywhere. Then Ben is gonna start a bubble fight. Like last time..." Dean trials off.

"And Jesse will slip and fall and Dashiel will try and pick him up and fall on top of him. Then they'll change their minds about washing up and-"

"-sneak up stairs to change clothes since they'll all be soaked." Dean shakes his head. "Then they'll troop in here and pretend like nothing happened and so will we because I don't feel like dealing with that. Why are the little stinkers up so late anyway? They're usually fed and in bed around this time."

Castiel grinds down a bit, making Dean catch his breath and then smiles devilishly as he explains. "They wanted to stay up and wait for you. Who am I to crush their dreams and say no? I wanted to wait up for you too."

Dean meets Castiel when he grinds down this time with an upward thrust and murmurs against his mouth, "You're not the only one who was waiting. I missed you guys. I missed you, Cas."

Castiel closes his eyes. "I hate it when you pull a 24 hour shift. I never know if you're going to be coming home or if Victor is, to tell me you won't be coming home. Ever."

"Cas-" Dean starts, his voice laced with pain.

"Dean, you deal with the most dangerous inmates there. The murderers and drug lords and rapists that can make guns out of match-boxes and shanks out of socks and spit. And don't think that Jo isn't filling me in on who you're not meshing with. I know all about Azazel and Alistair and... whoever that third guy was."

"Crowley? He's more of a thorn in my side than an actual hazard. Drug lords tend to be too lazy or high to fight back." Dean makes Castiel open his eyes and look at him. "And I'm going to kick Jo's ass for making you worry."

"Your cousin is just trying to keep an eye out for you for my sake," Castiel says softly. Joanna Beth Harvelle-Turner, recently married to Ashmore Turner, a computer geek who taught at the university with Castiel, was Dean's not-really-cousin. Her mother and step-father had taken Dean and Sam in when John had started to go wayward, watched them on multiple occasions. Ellen Harvelle-Singer and Robert 'Bobby' Singer had been close friends of Mary and John Winchester, even closer after Mary had died and John had lost himself. Jo had been close to the boys growing up. She worked in Homicide, but kept an eye out for Dean. He'd been choked by miscellaneous inmates one too many times for any of them to feel ok with him going back to work without someone keeping an eye on him.

"Cas, babe," Dean closes his eyes. They try not to have this conversation a lot. But it happens more often than Dean or Castiel likes."I'm sorry," is all he can think of to say.

Castiel holds Dean's face in-between both his palms. "You're not supposed to be sorry." He kisses him. "You're just supposed to let Jo be nosey." Castiel kisses his eyelids. Then his nose. Then his lips.

Dean presses harder, a bit more hungry, licks at Castiel's bottom lip, licks his way into his partner's, his husband's mouth, kisses him tenderly and roughly at the same time. Knows he never wants to lose this, knows it will kill him if he isn't already dead, which is the only way he's leaving Cas and the kids.

"Love you," Dean says in between kisses. "Love you so much." He pulls back and looks Castiel in the eye. "I love you, Castiel Winchester. I love you. I'm not going anywhere." He kisses him.

"I love you Dean Winchester," Castiel says quietly, then presses their foreheads together and they close their eyes and sit there.

They don't really know how much time goes by, but then there's a soft clearing of the throat and then Ben says, "Uh... Daddy? Is Poppa ok?"

Dean knows that if he moves Cas aside, he'll see Ben standing in front, in a different shirt, Claire hanging onto his hand in a dress. Behind them, Jess will be in new pants and Dashiel will be holding his hand grudgingly, in an entire new outfit that the latter boy probably picked out for him.

Castiel isn't moving, which means that if he does he's afraid he'll cry, so Dean does the talking. "Poppa's fine. Can you guys just...Just go into the living room for now, ok? Sorry. Dinner's gonna be ready in just a sec, just give Daddy and Poppa a minute ok? We'll even have ice cream for dessert later; you guys just really need to go into the living room. Ok? Can you do that for Daddy?"

Ben must have nodded, because then he says, "I mean, yes," and it comes out more like 'yesh', but that's ok, because Dean can hear him tugging Claire out of the room, saying, "C'mon Clairey, Jesse, Dashie." There's a growl and Dean can hear Ben's eye-roll from here. He must have inherited that from Sam. "Ugh. Fine. Dashiel, let's go." Dash must not have been moving because Ben's voice is farther away, as if he's just leaving it, but then he says, "Jesse?" and then there's Jesse's soft voice saying, "Les go, Dashie," and then there's the soft padding of feet. The TV goes on and Dean opens his eyes to find Castiel's still closed.

"Cas," he says softly and his husband opens his eyes. "Cas," Dean says again.

"I know," Castiel sighs. He gets up off Dean then extends a hand to help his husband up. "Thank you for that by the way. I needed a minute."

"Mmm," Dean says as he stands. He stretches. "I need several, and hopefully more than just minutes, with just you in an empty house. What do you think it's gonna take for that to happen?" There's a moment when Castiel looks to the microwave for the digital clock on it and Dean looks over and notices that the table is already set. For two. "You sneaky little-"

The doorbell rings and there's screeching as Sam and presumably Gabriel let themselves in. "Hey little stinkers," he hears and yep. Gabe's here too.

Sam walks into the kitchen, without the shorter man and smiles. "Baby-sitters to the rescue," he says jokingly, in a sing-song voice. "But seriously. You'd owe us, but it's your anniversary so."

Dean wraps an arm around Castiel's waist and kisses his forehead, because seriously? Best. Husband. Ever. "Thank you Sammy. Where's the smarmy-ass clown?"

Sam rolls his eyes and says, "By smarmy-ass clown, I assume you mean Gabriel. Your kids attacked him when we walked in."

"You sent him in first? My, my Sammy. You're getting strategic, aren't you?"

Sam shrugs. "Well, you kind of have to be. So. You pack them bags?" It takes Dean a minute to realize his brother is talking to Castiel who nods.

"Upstairs, in Ben and Claire's room."

Sam disappears and Dean turns to Castiel, who's looking quite satisfied with himself, and asks, "So, getting them to wash up for dinner...?"

"A ploy," Castiel says with a casual shrug.

"Yeah," Dean says, "A ploy that means we still have to wash wet toddler laundry for no reason at all."

"What is this we business? You never do laundry," Castiel says.

Dean smiles cheekily and answers, "That's right. I do all the manly work around here while you cook and clean and do laundry."

Castiel makes a face. "I'm not a housewife, Dean."

"And don't I know it," he says back.

Their foreplay is cut short when Sam walks in with four toddlers, Gabriel bringing up the caboose. "Say goodbye, you little monsters," Gabriel says.

The four of them are smiling, even Dashiel who's still holding onto Jesse's hand. "Bye!" Ben says loudly hugging Dean's legs and then going on his tiptoes, having Cas go to his knees to give his Poppa a quick smooch on the cheek. He runs over to Sam who lifts him up, slinging his and Claire's bag onto his shoulder.

Claire goes next. "Bu-bye," she says daintily. Dean kisses her forehead, as does Castiel who also hugs her and then she's off to Sam. She looks up expectantly and Ben rolls his eyes and slides down Sam's side.

"Fine," he says tiredly, like it's not worth fighting her for.

"Hold my bunny?" she asks sweetly. Ben takes the stupid bunny and Sam picks his niece up.

"You have him by the balls huh?" Gabe says and Castiel, Dean and Sam shoot him dirty looks.

"I don't have any balls," Ben says, confused.

"I'm not holding any either," Claire explains to Gabe, like he's slow or something, which Dean is beginning to think he is.

They ignore them and Gabe's smarmy laugh as Jesse runs to Dean where he's already kneeling and says, "Byes," and hugs him. He hugs Castiel then goes to stand by Gabe, who has Jesse and Dash's bags.

Dashiel is last. He slowly walks over to Dean and Castiel, who hug him simultaneously. He's the smallest, he's the youngest. They baby him a bit more.

It's a quiet goodbye, which everyone expects, until there's a soft, "Bye," and everyone freezes. Dashiel looks to his parents who are looking down at his little face, his bright green eyes staring. Ben's mouth is open, as is Claire's, but Jesse just looks smug.

"Tolja," he whispers to Gabe and his uncle nods, picks him up.

"Yeah, you did buddy," Gabe says.

Dean and Castiel on the other hand, just hug Dashiel tighter. Castiel can't speak; his eyes are shining, but in a good way. Dean, however, smiles and kisses Dash's head. "Yeah," he says, his voice thick. "Bye buddy." He hangs on for just a moment longer and then he and Castiel simultaneously let go.

Dashiel runs over to Gabriel where he's holding Jesse in his arms, and the toddler extends a hand down to Dash, holding it like he's rewarding him, and maybe he is. There's a moment when Claire and Ben don't know what to say, until they smile and a self-satisfied feeling descends on the occupants of the room.

As they walk out, Dean thinks that it's the best anniversary yet.

The sex that night just proves it all the more.

You guys like it? I thought it was cute.

Dean: Wouldn't it be nice if it was actually like that?

Cas: Yes. Yes it would be...*thoughtful*

Sam: Yeah. We'd be the coolest uncles EVER.

Gabe: True that, bro.



There will be a quick chapter two in which incest-but-not happens, but don't worry yourselves over that just yet. I have other shit to do.

Dean: Classy. You don't own Dash. Nice to know.

Cas: At least she put a disclaimer on our son. I'd hate to see him walking around without that.

Sam:Wait...Dash is...REAL?

Gabe: O.O WTF?


Me: Erm... guys...?

*Dean and Cas are mysteriously gone*

It really makes you wonder though, huh? all those parts where Dean and Cas are alone then it hops over to Sam or Bobby or someone and you're like... Huh. I wonder if they're having sex right now. It'd be a nice thought.