Fic: Stick Together
Title: Stick Together
Characters: Castiel, Bradley the T-Mobile rep
Ratings/Warnings: G/Set just before 5.02 "Good God, Y'all"
Word Count: 1500
Summary: Angels are the worst customers.
The jarring pink trim of the T-Mobile kiosk called attention to itself through the steady stream of mall patrons, reminding Castiel of the mating plumage of birds. He turned his blossoming sense of righteous judgement on the kiosk and mentally deemed it ridiculous looking. It felt satisfying to think. Still, it was the nearest cellular provider location to where Sam and Dean were currently, and he was in a hurry. He strode purposefully through the crowd, ignoring the brushing of shoulders against him as a collective of teenagers parted around him.
The young man in the polo shirt who stood behind the kiosk counter seemed immediately pleased to see him, which Castiel was surprised to realize made him feel…welcome. He hadn’t felt welcome anywhere recently - not even in Dean’s presence - and the sensation made his shoulders drop incrementally. “Good morning, sir!” said the young man, smiling pleasantly. “My name is Bradley. What can I do for you today?”
“Good morning, Bradley,” Castiel replied, placing his hands on the slick plastic rim of the counter and testing its give. “My name is Castiel. I require a cellular device.”
“Super!” Bradley replied, bobbing his head enthusiastically. “What have you got in mind?”
Castiel felt a pinch as his brow furrowed. What had he got in mind? The question was so broad - too broad, surely, for this child of humanity in a “T-Mobile: Stick Together” polo shirt to grasp. He had Heaven in mind, and Hell, and all those who dwelled within them. He had the apocalypse in mind, and of course, humanity. Oh, humanity - seething, anguished, laughing, ever-changing, beautiful humanity, his Father’s greatest creation. He always had humanity in mind these days - especially the Winchesters, their friend Bobby Singer, and those with whom they occasionally surrounded themselves. He also thought often of his own long and storied history, of dolphins - which he rather liked - and of television, which was becoming a new hobby for him between missions. Project Runway: fashion-based Battle Royale. Fascinating.
Fortunately, before he had to explain all of this to Bradley behind the counter, Bradley tipped his head sideways to mirror Castiel’s and asked, “Would you be interested in a smartphone, sir? We have some great deals going on for new customers.”
A smart phone? Of course, he ought to choose a smart phone. It was best to ally himself with smart individuals, and based on the way he’d heard Sam and Dean curse at and sweet talk their phones, he presumed that cellular devices occupied a space on the sentience spectrum somewhere near cage-bound house pets. “Yes,” he said, “a smart phone would be preferable.”
“All righty!” Bradley said. “What kind of features are you looking for? Bluetooth, QWERTY keyboard, touch screen…?” When the angel only stared at him, the sales representative asked, “Do you text often?”
“Text?”
“I’ll take that as a no. What about email?”
“I need to dial numbers.”
“Okay.” Bradley nodded, his smile slipping slightly. “Yeah, all right, we can totally do that. How about a My Faves plan? You can call up to five of your favorite people for free.”
“I only have two favorite people,” Castiel said. “I don’t need to call anyone else.”
“Super,” Bradley said, a little less enthusiastically this time, and moved to stand behind the kiosk’s computer screen. Castiel got the distinct impression the young man was attempting to put an object between the two of them, beyond the already separating width of the counter. “I can set you up with a My Faves plan. We’ve got a discount going on the thousand minutes - or we could go with the three hundred minutes plan, which is cheaper.”
“Money is not a concern,” Castiel said, examining the clear case full of cellular devices beneath the counter as he moved around the kiosk to where Bradley stood. “I need reliability. Reception. Surge-resistance.”
“I’m not sure we offer surge-resistant phones,” Bradley said, not looking up from his typing. “But if it helps, my cousin put her Sidekick through the wash and it came out fine.”
“I don’t require a sidekick, merely a mode of communication.”
“Um-”
“How high can I get reception on one of your smart phones?”
“How high?”
“How high does reception extend beyond the earth’s surface?” Castiel said, running a hand along the clear plastic sheath of the display. Inside, he could sense the neatly arranged mazes of copper and plastic, screws and glass, mapping out the electronic pathways for thousands of calls to be made in the future. He wondered how many of them would include news of the End Days. “The general layer of the atmosphere would be suitable - no need to measure in miles.”
“You’re not supposed to make cell phone calls from planes,” Bradley said, his hands paused at the keyboard.
“I’m not a patron of the air travel industry.”
“Do a lot of mountain climbing?”
“What I do in the upper layers of the atmosphere is not important. What matters is whether I will have to return to earth to place a call.”
Bradley’s lips curled into his mouth, and he exhaled slowly through his nostrils, making them flare slightly. Castiel watched him, narrowing his eyes and thinking of the way Dean had made the same face out of frustration in Heaven’s green room.
“No matter,” Castiel said, attempting to take some of the weight off Bradley’s shoulders. Humans were fragile creatures, especially non-hunters, and it wasn’t in his mission to strain the poor boy’s mind. “Show me your favorite smart phone, Bradley. I will take it with a My Faves plan and any extras you recommend.”
Bradley seemed thrilled to finally have reached a consensus with the angel. Castiel supposed that this was, after all, the job he was driven to do. He took a private joy (Joy! What a sensation!) in having caused the smile that was now spreading across the young man’s face.
“All right, sir,” Bradley said, fetching a small box and pushing it across the counter to Castiel. “Why don’t you take a look at this model, and I’ll get your information entered in the system.” He turned his attention back to the screen for a moment, and when he looked back, he seemed surprised that Castiel had the phone entirely unwrapped and running in his hand.
Castiel scrunched up his nose, glowering at the screen of the smart phone. “These buttons are problematic. They don’t correspond to the size of my fingers.”
“Um,” said Bradley.
“It seems all your models have similarly sized buttons. Is your clientele unusually small people?”
Bradley opened his mouth but said nothing, staring at the phone.
Castiel sighed, shaking his head. “I suppose it’s not like I’ll need to use my fingers to dial, anyway.”
“O-okay,” Bradley said, nodding with a slightly worried expression that reminded Castiel of Sam. “I’ll just get your account set up, Mister…?”
“Chrysostom,” Castiel said. “John.”
The sales representative made him spell out the name and include an address. Castiel gave him a P.O. box number that Zachariah had once used to receive a National Geographic subscription.
“All right, Mr. Chrysostom,” Bradley said, his smile widening the closer they got to the end of the transaction, “Your total today comes to $129.99. Would you like to pay by cash, check, or card?”
Castiel didn’t have any money on his person. So he reached across the counter and pressed his first two fingers into Bradley’s forehead. The young man staggered sideways one step, his eyelids fluttering closed, and then caught himself.
“All righty, sir, you’re all paid up,” he said, blinking hard at the computer screen.
“I thought so,” Castiel said.
“Unless you’d like to pay your activation fee up fron-”
Castiel angel-whammied him a second time, as discreetly as possible in the middle of the mall crowd.
“Super!” Bradley said after a momentary stumble. “Anything else I can help you with today?”
Castiel observed his phone, sliding his thumb across the small, glowing screen. Every phone number that Sam and Dean had held in the last two years flooded into the address book, labeled by chronology. Castiel scrolled through them, smiling to himself: a connection to the Winchesters. Their absence in his mental map of the earth had pained him, even though he knew it meant their safety from Zachariah and Lucifer. This device would help to fill that void, in its own small way.
He leaned on the countertop as he’d seen other customers do at malls across the globe, holding Bradley’s gaze once more. Pointing his first two fingers beneath him in preparation for another pitch about fees, he asked, “Do you have any Bon Jovi ringtones?”
The end!
Characters: Castiel, Bradley the T-Mobile rep
Ratings/Warnings: G/Set just before 5.02 "Good God, Y'all"
Word Count: 1500
Summary: Angels are the worst customers.
The jarring pink trim of the T-Mobile kiosk called attention to itself through the steady stream of mall patrons, reminding Castiel of the mating plumage of birds. He turned his blossoming sense of righteous judgement on the kiosk and mentally deemed it ridiculous looking. It felt satisfying to think. Still, it was the nearest cellular provider location to where Sam and Dean were currently, and he was in a hurry. He strode purposefully through the crowd, ignoring the brushing of shoulders against him as a collective of teenagers parted around him.
The young man in the polo shirt who stood behind the kiosk counter seemed immediately pleased to see him, which Castiel was surprised to realize made him feel…welcome. He hadn’t felt welcome anywhere recently - not even in Dean’s presence - and the sensation made his shoulders drop incrementally. “Good morning, sir!” said the young man, smiling pleasantly. “My name is Bradley. What can I do for you today?”
“Good morning, Bradley,” Castiel replied, placing his hands on the slick plastic rim of the counter and testing its give. “My name is Castiel. I require a cellular device.”
“Super!” Bradley replied, bobbing his head enthusiastically. “What have you got in mind?”
Castiel felt a pinch as his brow furrowed. What had he got in mind? The question was so broad - too broad, surely, for this child of humanity in a “T-Mobile: Stick Together” polo shirt to grasp. He had Heaven in mind, and Hell, and all those who dwelled within them. He had the apocalypse in mind, and of course, humanity. Oh, humanity - seething, anguished, laughing, ever-changing, beautiful humanity, his Father’s greatest creation. He always had humanity in mind these days - especially the Winchesters, their friend Bobby Singer, and those with whom they occasionally surrounded themselves. He also thought often of his own long and storied history, of dolphins - which he rather liked - and of television, which was becoming a new hobby for him between missions. Project Runway: fashion-based Battle Royale. Fascinating.
Fortunately, before he had to explain all of this to Bradley behind the counter, Bradley tipped his head sideways to mirror Castiel’s and asked, “Would you be interested in a smartphone, sir? We have some great deals going on for new customers.”
A smart phone? Of course, he ought to choose a smart phone. It was best to ally himself with smart individuals, and based on the way he’d heard Sam and Dean curse at and sweet talk their phones, he presumed that cellular devices occupied a space on the sentience spectrum somewhere near cage-bound house pets. “Yes,” he said, “a smart phone would be preferable.”
“All righty!” Bradley said. “What kind of features are you looking for? Bluetooth, QWERTY keyboard, touch screen…?” When the angel only stared at him, the sales representative asked, “Do you text often?”
“Text?”
“I’ll take that as a no. What about email?”
“I need to dial numbers.”
“Okay.” Bradley nodded, his smile slipping slightly. “Yeah, all right, we can totally do that. How about a My Faves plan? You can call up to five of your favorite people for free.”
“I only have two favorite people,” Castiel said. “I don’t need to call anyone else.”
“Super,” Bradley said, a little less enthusiastically this time, and moved to stand behind the kiosk’s computer screen. Castiel got the distinct impression the young man was attempting to put an object between the two of them, beyond the already separating width of the counter. “I can set you up with a My Faves plan. We’ve got a discount going on the thousand minutes - or we could go with the three hundred minutes plan, which is cheaper.”
“Money is not a concern,” Castiel said, examining the clear case full of cellular devices beneath the counter as he moved around the kiosk to where Bradley stood. “I need reliability. Reception. Surge-resistance.”
“I’m not sure we offer surge-resistant phones,” Bradley said, not looking up from his typing. “But if it helps, my cousin put her Sidekick through the wash and it came out fine.”
“I don’t require a sidekick, merely a mode of communication.”
“Um-”
“How high can I get reception on one of your smart phones?”
“How high?”
“How high does reception extend beyond the earth’s surface?” Castiel said, running a hand along the clear plastic sheath of the display. Inside, he could sense the neatly arranged mazes of copper and plastic, screws and glass, mapping out the electronic pathways for thousands of calls to be made in the future. He wondered how many of them would include news of the End Days. “The general layer of the atmosphere would be suitable - no need to measure in miles.”
“You’re not supposed to make cell phone calls from planes,” Bradley said, his hands paused at the keyboard.
“I’m not a patron of the air travel industry.”
“Do a lot of mountain climbing?”
“What I do in the upper layers of the atmosphere is not important. What matters is whether I will have to return to earth to place a call.”
Bradley’s lips curled into his mouth, and he exhaled slowly through his nostrils, making them flare slightly. Castiel watched him, narrowing his eyes and thinking of the way Dean had made the same face out of frustration in Heaven’s green room.
“No matter,” Castiel said, attempting to take some of the weight off Bradley’s shoulders. Humans were fragile creatures, especially non-hunters, and it wasn’t in his mission to strain the poor boy’s mind. “Show me your favorite smart phone, Bradley. I will take it with a My Faves plan and any extras you recommend.”
Bradley seemed thrilled to finally have reached a consensus with the angel. Castiel supposed that this was, after all, the job he was driven to do. He took a private joy (Joy! What a sensation!) in having caused the smile that was now spreading across the young man’s face.
“All right, sir,” Bradley said, fetching a small box and pushing it across the counter to Castiel. “Why don’t you take a look at this model, and I’ll get your information entered in the system.” He turned his attention back to the screen for a moment, and when he looked back, he seemed surprised that Castiel had the phone entirely unwrapped and running in his hand.
Castiel scrunched up his nose, glowering at the screen of the smart phone. “These buttons are problematic. They don’t correspond to the size of my fingers.”
“Um,” said Bradley.
“It seems all your models have similarly sized buttons. Is your clientele unusually small people?”
Bradley opened his mouth but said nothing, staring at the phone.
Castiel sighed, shaking his head. “I suppose it’s not like I’ll need to use my fingers to dial, anyway.”
“O-okay,” Bradley said, nodding with a slightly worried expression that reminded Castiel of Sam. “I’ll just get your account set up, Mister…?”
“Chrysostom,” Castiel said. “John.”
The sales representative made him spell out the name and include an address. Castiel gave him a P.O. box number that Zachariah had once used to receive a National Geographic subscription.
“All right, Mr. Chrysostom,” Bradley said, his smile widening the closer they got to the end of the transaction, “Your total today comes to $129.99. Would you like to pay by cash, check, or card?”
Castiel didn’t have any money on his person. So he reached across the counter and pressed his first two fingers into Bradley’s forehead. The young man staggered sideways one step, his eyelids fluttering closed, and then caught himself.
“All righty, sir, you’re all paid up,” he said, blinking hard at the computer screen.
“I thought so,” Castiel said.
“Unless you’d like to pay your activation fee up fron-”
Castiel angel-whammied him a second time, as discreetly as possible in the middle of the mall crowd.
“Super!” Bradley said after a momentary stumble. “Anything else I can help you with today?”
Castiel observed his phone, sliding his thumb across the small, glowing screen. Every phone number that Sam and Dean had held in the last two years flooded into the address book, labeled by chronology. Castiel scrolled through them, smiling to himself: a connection to the Winchesters. Their absence in his mental map of the earth had pained him, even though he knew it meant their safety from Zachariah and Lucifer. This device would help to fill that void, in its own small way.
He leaned on the countertop as he’d seen other customers do at malls across the globe, holding Bradley’s gaze once more. Pointing his first two fingers beneath him in preparation for another pitch about fees, he asked, “Do you have any Bon Jovi ringtones?”
The end!