Spray Cans and Coffee Cups

3: Portrait of an Angel

     It was a calm afternoon, despite the bustle and buzz of the city. Castiel leaned back against the side of his car with a smile. He'd expected some kind of trouble- he always did- but, to his surprise, it had been a relatively peaceful day. He'd waved, smiled, and struck up a few conversations with friendly passerby, and no one had made any trouble. 

     He tapped his fingers idly on the door handle, thoughts turning to forest-green eyes and a coy smirk. Maybe, when his shift was over, he'd pay Dean a visit. He would be finished in an hour or two- maybe he could head to Baby's for an early dinner, strike up another conversation. 

     Cas froze mid-thought, realizing he had no idea when Dean's shifts were. He frowned, disappointed. He'd been hoping to see the man sooner- preferably without seeming desperate- but he'd have to wait until the next morning to see him. Assuming, that was, that Dean was going to work the next day. Cas sighed, deciding to stay late again to work on that paperwork. It needed to be done, anyways. He'd never finished it, barely arriving in time for the morning briefing before being sent out on patrol. 

     He glanced around the block before getting back into his car. He slid into the front seat with a resigned sigh, not looking forward to another lonely night of work.

     --------------------

     The police car's engine rumbled as Castiel keyed the ignition. The rest of his shift had been uneventful, leaving Cas bored and alone in the car. 

     He could only sit in silence for so long.

     He'd radioed Gabriel- he was glad, for once, that his half-brother was on the same shift- and asked if he'd seen anything on his end. 

     Gabriel had chuckled, telling Cas about what he'd seen- a hell of a lot more than Cas- and he'd listened while Cas complained. 

     He wanted something- anything- to happen. At the very least, he could feel a little bit useful, instead of sitting doing nothing.

     Yet, that was how Castiel had spent his day. 

     He pulled the car out and onto the street, waving at the woman who'd stopped so he could move his car. 

     The roads on the way back to the station were just as quiet as they'd been all day. Cas hummed under his breath, trying to fill up the quiet. He'd wondered all day- he couldn't help but to- if this was the life he was going to lead. 

     He was content with his job. It held happiness for him, it really did. He liked doing what he did, and he liked how he did it. 

     It didn't matter if the other cops thought he was too meticulous, too attached to the rules. Too orderly, too uptight. As long as it worked, it didn't matter. That was how Castiel got the job done, after all- rules. 

     They were factual and present, and they didn't change on a whim. They were set, fixed, and Cas wouldn't have it any other way. 

     Yet, there was an ache, a wanting, that settled deep in his bones. He was quick to push it away- not dwell on it- because what would it lead to? He couldn't afford to be doubtful, even if it left him empty and lonely and wanting more. 

     He stared quietly at the road, shoving any last remnants of doubt away. By-the-book was always how he'd done things, and it couldn't be wrong.

     --------------------

     Castiel sighed, ruffling through the nearest stack of paperwork. He'd been sorting and organizing the files for at least an hour, and the words on the pages were beginning to blur in and out of focus.