"Well well!" The gym coach's voice boomed. "Look who FINALLY decided to come to class." Hannah grinned.

"Don't worry," She explained. "I'm only here for ulterior motives."

"And to prevent an incomplete on your report card," The Coach muttered.

"I'll have you know I am protesting the pointlessness of being graded in a class where fit students have an unfair advantage over out of shape ones."

"And smart students have an unfair advantage over dumb students; that's just school, Ms. Novak."

"And NOW you're implying that some of the students at this school are dumb, when really our classes are fair because we are all taught the same thing, whereas in gym, if you have an underlying health condition, like asthma, it's impossible for you to succeed no matter how hard you try. AND you ALWAYS put the fit kids on one team against the out of shape kids for EVERY game, and everyone knows it. That's discrimination, and I won't stand for it, not to mention you assumed my gender when you referred to me as 'Ms.'" Sam stared over at the youngest Novak in awe. This girl when through a lot of effort to get out of some measly 40 minute gym classes.

"You use the girls locker room, Hannah, that makes you a Ms. in my book."

"Only because we don't have a gender neutral locker room, but that's a whole other battle I'm fighting against."

"Hannah-"

"Are you aware of how uncomfortable it is for students to have to be FORCED into changing in a locker room full of people that aren't even the same gender as them? Or the same gender for that matter. The whole concept of locker rooms is just one of a thousand reasons why I refuse to attend your class on a regular basis-"

"Ms. Novak, are you aware that if you DON'T attend this class, you'll never graduate high school?"

"Bold of you to assume I won't find a way around it, I always do." Coach let out a long suffering sigh that had Sam wondering how many times conversations like this had happened between the two.

"Y'know, your siblings were so good in this class," He whined. "Sure, Balthazar didn't run for shit and Anna spent more time faking tying her shoes than running, but they were at least peaceful-"

"Can we just get on with class already? I have a bet to win." Hannah interrupted. Coach rolled his eyes.

"Everyone line up at the starting line of the track. 3 laps around, RUNNING. I repeat, RUNNING, not walking, not that fake little half jog- if you're not sweating when we're done, you aren't working hard enough." A hand popped up into the air. "WHAT, Garth?"

"I have asthma," He said, and Hannah started cackling.

Sam made his way to the starting line, stretching briefly as everyone else lined up around him. Hannah popped up by his side with a devilish grin that made Sam double take. There was no doubt about it- she and Gabriel were definitely siblings.

"Ready to lose, Winchester?" She asked.

"You wish," He shot back. 

"Just remember- when I win, you have to ask a question of my choice to whoever I want."

"And when you eat my dust, you answer any question I want, right?"

"Yup."

"Works for me."

"And three," Coach started. "Two....One...GO!"

One second Sam was at the starting line, Hannah right next to him.

The next second Hannah was halfway around the track and Sam had taken approximately two steps. He wished he had a slow motion camera to replay how fast she had taken off, and Sam knew for a fact that she hadn't started early.

That little cheater, Sam scowled, still sprinting in a futile attempt to catch up with Hannah. No wonder she had been so confident, if she could run that fast. NOBODY should be able to run that fast, it was like he was racing against Usain Bolt or some crap! 

It wasn't human to be that damn fast! Especially when you always skipped gym! Was Hannah secretly half cheetah or something?

She was waiting for him at the starting line as he finished the third lap, looking just as pristine as she had before they started. Sam, along with the rest of the class, were doubled over, half collapsed to the floor, gasping and panting for air and clinging to their water bottles.

"I win," She said simply, grinning.

"You-" Sam panted. "You never said... you could run that...fast..."

"And you never asked." Sam fell to the floor with a groan.

"What's my punishment?" He asked.

"I want you to ask my brother Gabriel out on a date."

"WHAT! WHY???"

"Because I'm a damn good wingwoman, that's why." 

"Did Gabriel put you up to this?"

"Nope. He doesn't even know we've met yet, but he'll owe me for it later, and I like being able to hold stuff over my siblings heads." She thought for a moment. "And since I basically cheated you, I'll let you ask me whatever question you wanted to anyways." Sam stared up at her.

"How are you so good at manipulating people?" He asked. She shrugged.

"I'm the youngest of seven kids. Minor blackmail and manipulation is the only way I get clothes that aren't third hand-me-downs, and there is NO WAY I'm ever going back to wearing Gabriel's old T-shirts."

"Fair enough."

"So you'll hold up your side of the deal and ask Gabe out?" Sam groaned.

"It's not a date."

"Maybe not yet. That's work Gabe has to do himself."

"I can't decide if you're a terrible sister or the best one ever." Hannah grinned.

"Best one ever, of course."

****

Cas sat in his English class, not hearing a single word his teacher was saying because Dean Winchester was sitting next to him.

Dean Winchester, who wasn't paying attention either. He was doodling car parts on the back cover of his notebook instead, and Cas had to admit they were pretty realistic.

And then, of course, Balthazar's voice decided to pop into his head.

Flirt with him.

No, brain, Cas told himself. He didn't know how to flirt with Dean! Balthazar and Anna had spent an entire mall montage attempting to teach him, and he was still clueless! The whole trip hadn't been a total waste, though. Dean had smiled at him when he walked in the room, and his gaze had lingered on Cas's new shirt.

WHY THE FUCK A TEE SHIRT MADE A DIFFERENCE, CAS WOULD NEVER KNOW. But damn, thank you Anna for knowing more about this junk than he did.

Flirt with him, Balthazar's ominous voice repeated. Flirt with him, flirt with him, flirtwithhim-

Cas grimaced, knowing his brain wasn't going to shut the fuck up until he made some form of interaction with Dean. So the second his teacher turned her back, he scribbled a note and tossed it onto Dean's desk.

Couldn't go wrong with a classic cliche move, could you?

Hey.

A bit informal, Cas thought, but wasn't that how all flirting started? Heeeeeyyyyyy, *insert pick up line here*

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to get all his assumptions about flirting from Joey from Friends, but Cas didn't really have a better idea at the moment.

And then a piece of paper landed on his desk.

Hey ;)

CODE RED, CODE RED, SOUND THE SIRENS, WE HAVE A WINKY FACE PEOPLE, I REPEAT A WINKY FACE!!!

Cas hid a smile and quickly wrote back.

I didn't realize you could draw so well.

Dean's face went red, slightly embarrassed.

Been staring at my notebook, huh? They're just doodles.

Well they're really good.

Ur just saying that cause ur nice.

No,

Cas paused. This was one of those opportunities Balthazar had told him about. A chance to compliment Dean. Wasn't it? YES. IT WAS. HE WAS FLIRTING!

HE WAS GONNA FLIRT AND DIDN'T HAVE TO SAY WORDS WITH HIS MOUTH TO DO IT YES.

No, he wrote. I just said it cause you're pretty.

He passed the note, immediately regretting the decision as he attempted to watch Dean's reaction in his peripheral vision.

Dean opened the note. So far so good. 

Dean read the note. Fuck.

And then this little, pleased smirk spread across his face and he started writing back.

OH GOD HE LIKED IT. Cas's brain went into meltdown mode. FUCK THAT WAS MY ONLY MOVE WHAT DO I DO NOW.

Note received.

Hell, I'm not pretty- you'd forget my face tomorrow if I didn't show up to school.

Okay, that one was surprisingly easy to respond to.

Impossible- I could never forget a pretty face like yours. 

Dean full on smiled at that one, and Cas couldn't help but grin down at his desk, a giddy feeling washing over him. Was all flirting supposed to feel this good? Was it just Dean? Did their note passing even count as flirting?? He didn't know and he really didn't care.

More paper landed on his desk.

Oh come on- we both know you're the beautiful one here. You could have anyone you wanted with those baby blues.

It's a good thing Cas isn't hooked up to a heart monitor right now because the think would be doing a strange mix of beeping so aggressively that it drew doctors into the room and just flatlining.

He was saving this note. Hell- he was FRAMING this note. DEAN WINCHESTER CALLED HIM BEAUTIFUL WHAT THE FUCK.

BALTHAZAR HAD NOT TRAINED HIM FOR THIS MOMENT.

CASTIEL'S BRAIN EXE. HAS STOPPED FUNCTIONING, SEEK HELP IMMEDIATELY.

A loud ringing interrupted his thoughts, and it took him WAAAYY to long to realize it was the bell and that everyone was packing up and leaving- DEAN WAS LEAVING.

Except that he wasn't. He stood by Cas's desk as Cas fumbled with his books and shoved everything into his bag. Dean grinned at him.

"Your face is looking a little red there," He commented, looking way too damn smug. Who was flirting with who again?

"Yeah, well," Cas said. "Being called beautiful by the hottest guy I've ever seen tends to do that to people."

"Hottest guy you've ever seen, huh?" The grin on Dean's face turned a bit dopey and Cas got to his feet. 

"Yeah...." Cas squeaked, regretting his decision to learn the English language for about the seventh time that day.

Then he realized that Dean's face was a bit pinker than usual too.

HOLY SHIT I MADE HIM BLUSH, Cas's brain started screaming, the alarms blaring yet again as Dean tilted his head.

"Well, uh," He started. "Wanna walk to science together?" He asked. Cas grinned.

"Sure."

He owed Balthazar big time. Like murder Celine Dion for him big time.