Never Trust a Skinny Baker

“There. All done,” Dean announces as he steps back and makes sure the sign he just hung is straight.

“‘Never Trust a Skinny Baker,’” Sam reads. He stands next to Dean and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re not fat, Dean.” 

“I know. That’s why the sign’s funny. ‘Cause I’m a skinny baker.” Dean grabs a rag off the counter and wipes down the display case one more time.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Hey, how many people have liked our Facebook page?”

Sam pulls out his phone. “Since you asked me half an hour ago? Uh, we’re still at 200.”

“Yeah, and how many of those 200 are gonna be at our grand opening?”

“Dean. Quit worrying about it. We’re gonna do fine.”

**********

They do more than fine. So many people show up on their opening day that they probably end up turning away more people than they actually serve. Sam goes on six different supply runs, and at one point Dean sees Kevin sitting in the fetal position in a corner of the kitchen while Krissy looms over him shouting at him to “get your shit together, man!”

Dean adds, “Hire more employees—maybe venture outside of high school students” to his to-do list. 

Around noon, Dean puts Alex in charge of gently kicking patrons out when they’ve overstayed their welcome. If they’ve been done eating their pastry for longer than 20 minutes, they get the boot. Alex is tougher than Kevin but softer than Krissy, so she’s the right man for the job.

That is, until 4 p.m. when she comes around the display case and furiously whispers in Dean’s ear, “Argyle at 3 o’clock never ordered anything and has been here for an hour. Every time I try to tell him he needs to order something or leave, he just smiles at me.”

As Dean is handing a chocolate croissant to a customer, he looks to his 3 o’clock and spots a man in a black argyle sweater. His hands are folded on the small table in front of him, and he’s looking out the window as if he’s waiting on someone.

“He didn’t say anything to you?” Dean asks Alex.

“No!” she nearly shouts. “I don’t know what to do.”

Dean removes his gloves and pats her shoulder. “All right, you take over. I’ll see what I can do.”

Dean has to weave through the crowd of people to reach the man, and some of them give him confused looks as if wondering why the baker isn’t in the back baking. He is, after all, the only one wearing an apron and covered in flour.

“Hi,” Dean says loudly once he’s standing in front of the man.

The guy keeps looking out the window.

Dean huffs a laugh and waves a hand in front of the guy’s face.

Argyle turns, startled, before his face softens into a smile at the sight of Dean. He holds up a hand and gives a small wave.

“Are you waiting on someone?”

The man smiles and very briefly nods.

“You have no idea what I’m saying, do you?” Dean asks.

The man continues to smile.

Please don’t be from another country, please don’t be from another country, please don’t be from another country, Dean thinks to himself as he holds up his hands and signs, “Do you sign?”

Keep reading

NO THIS IS NOT OKAY THIS IS TOO GOOD AND CUTE AND INTERESTING AND FUN HOW DARE YOU

also i hope you realise i am now going to be reading everything you ever wrote jsyk

and YES Eileen/Sam is now the perfect entry into fics where DEAN JUST KNOWS ASL BECAUSE HE DOES so there let us normalise it.

also i love castiel’s grouchy fluffiness in this fic because i do.