Didn't Run Far Enough

Chapter 1

Castiel Novak is pretty much your average cop. He and his partner Charlie Bradbury work in homicide, and they're damn good at what they do, if he may say so himself. They're in the midst of a pressing case — a shootout behind the mall a few nights ago that left three dead; it seems to be linked to the Hunters, a gang that is infamous for avoiding the law — but right now, it's time for food.

Castiel is picking up the tab today, but first, he needs some cash. His credit card has been acting up lately, and until his replacement comes in, he's stuck paying everything in cash. Fortunately, Charlie has no qualms about going to the bank before lunch as long as it saves her a few bucks, so that's what they do.

And then, because heaven forbid anything works out for them, the ATM is broken. Castiel groans. What the fuck, man?

"I can pay today and you can pay me back later," Charlie offers.

Castiel shakes his head. "You paid last time. C'mon, let's go bother the bank teller."

"M'kay," Charlie says.

Unfortunately, there's a line inside, so the two detectives have to stand back and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Charlie nudges his arm and whispers, "You know, Dean Winchester is probably out there threatening an execution right now."

"Probably," Castiel agrees.

"And here we are, waiting for a 20-dollar bill," Charlie says.

Castiel shrugs. "I'd take the boring life of a bank-visiting cop over that of a gang leader any day."

"Mm," Charlie hums, thinking. After a pause, she asks, "Do you think he ever goes to banks? I mean, no one knows what he looks like. I'm sure he could get away with it if he wanted to."

Castiel shrugs. "Probably."

"I mean, he could be in this bank with us right now," Charlie continues.

Castiel knows for a fact that he's not in this bank right now, but that doesn't seem like the right response right now. Instead, he just says, "Well, at least then we could take him into questioning."

"Which would be great if we could book him on anything," Charlie mutters. "The guy's just too good."

"We'll get him one day," Castiel says, though he doesn't believe it at all. If anyone's gonna find out where the Hunters are, it's going to be narcotics, not homicide that does it.

"A girl can dream," Charlie says.

The two chat for a few minutes while they wait for the line to move. They could probably take the time to discuss the case, but it's more fun to just talk about life. They have the rest of the day to talk about work. Right now, they want to talk about Charlie's new cat, Bubbles, who is apparently a pain in the fucking ass.

"He ripped my cushion in half," Charlie whispers. "Literally in half. He was sitting inside the fucking cushion."

"He's just a —"

"I thought it was a possum!" Charlie squeaks. "I was —"

Castiel throws a hand over her mouth, looking around to make sure no one is staring (they are). "Charlie, no screaming in the fucking bank."

"Shit, sorry," Charlie whispers.

Castiel takes his hand back. "For the record, I want to give Bubbles a high five."