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On cue, the new guy’s eyebrows shoot skywards as soon as he scans the dock.
“What the hell’s going on over there?” he exclaims.
There’s an outraged edge to his tone that Benny doesn’t appreciate one bit, but wasn’t naive enough not to expect. Sometimes it just goes like that with these seasonal hires, while others plainly don’t give a flying clam as long as they get their paycheck. He was just hoping for one of the latter so he could get through the ins and outs of the warehouse without having to deal with the dramatic outbursts.
Either way, Benny’s sure if the guy were prone to wearing the pearls they occasionally harvest, he’d be clutching them. Dean’s gonna owe him at least a case of El Sols after this conversation.
“Ain’t the 1950’s no more cher, I recommend you get over it.”
He continues coiling the shipping rope he was working on, hoping the guy will just let it go. No such luck.
“That’s not- are you shitting me?” He sheepishly clears his throat and adds “Sir?”
“Trenton, if a couple of your co-workers sharing une pause together is so outrageous to you, I seriously have to wonder how you’re gonna handle the boat.”
Benny’s tone is light, but his keen blue gaze is razor sharp as he regards the riled man.
“That’s a fucking siren,” Trenton bleats impotently. He’s staring at Benny with barely-contained hysteria, like he’s pointed out actual Cthulu but everyone seems to be carrying on without notice.
Benny huffs a bemused chuckle.
“Non, that’s just Cas.”
Trenton gawks at him incredulously.
“Cas?” he parrots.
Benny nods, unable to contain an accompanying sigh.
“And you just let it-”
“Him.”
“Do you know how much those things are worth? The tail alone is-”
Benny calmly places the twine into its box, and roughly grabs Trenton by the collar. He’s a small but sturdy guy - part of why Dean hired him - but he ends up hovering a good foot off the ground between Benny’s paws.
“Now listen here couyon, I won’t be tolerating any sort of-
“Bullying the newbies again, Benny?”
Trenton’s feet hit the ground, and Benny gets a clock to the face for his trouble.
“Okay, no more of that,” the new arrival warns, getting in between the two.
“I won’t be taking any advice from a goddamn siren-fucker,” Trenton spits.
“That’s Captain Siren-Fucker to you, Mr Trenton,” Dean corrects evenly, momentarily glancing back at the siren in question.
He brushes off Trenton’s ruffled sweater and straightens his collar while Cas nonchalantly waves his clawed fingers at the group from the pier.
Predictably, Trenton seems at a loss for words.
“Sir-Captain Winchester- I-”
“You get one, only because no one told you,” Dean warns, then dipping his head towards Cas, “But after that, I’m letting him eat you. We clear?”
Trenton swallows audibly, but he manages a nod.
“Yes Captain.”
“Alright. Fresh batch of mackerel was just fileted; Baby's deck needs a good mop.”
There’s a long pause before Benny crosses his arms.
“That’s you, petit.”
Trenton squirrels off.
“Your damn canoodling’s gonna get my jaw broken one of these days, cher.
-Who's to say that's not why I do it,” Dean laughs, giving Benny’s shoulder a friendly slap.
Benny’s eyes roll quite skillfully for a man who looks like a bear in suspenders. He puffs an unimpressed sigh through his scruffy grin and carries on with his work while Dean returns to his post.
Castiel regards him coolly, scaly arms crossed. His shimmering midnight tail swivels slowly through the dark water below.
“Did you really spend your first break in weeks perpetuating stereotypes, Captain?”
“Was for a good cause, promise,” Dean smiles. “Kids gotta learn.”
He regains his seat beside him.
“I would never eat human,” Cas declares, lazily leaning into Dean’s side as his arm wraps around comfortably.
“I know that Cas, I was just-
-Far too gamey.”
