In Vino Veritas

a/n: How the hell did this happen?! I woke up this morning with the idea for this story in my head, and nothing else would do but I had to write it down. So here it is. A lil one-shot scene between Dean and Charlie. I feel like they have a great relationship and that she's someone he can open up to. And the poor guy desperately needs to open up.

Reviews would be lovely, and if you enjoy this, check out my Cas-centric fic, "The Girl Without a Name"

In vino veritas est.
In wine there is truth.
-Pliny the Elder

"You mean to tell me you've really never kissed a guy before? Like never, never?" he said with wide, incredulous eyes.

She laughed and shook her head. "Nope, I've never kissed a guy."

"Come on!" he said. His outburst startled one of the horses, and it shifted restlessly in its stall. He lowered his voice. "Not once? It's just been all girls, all the time?"

She looked away, and he thought she was blushing, but maybe it was just the ale. "Come on, Dean, this is a really stupid conversation. Let's get back to—"

"Uh huh," he said. "I knew it. Who was he?"

"It was in college," she said with an exasperated sigh. "I was experimenting. It was just the one time, and it didn't mean anything."

"I knew it!" he said again. "Who was this mystery man who led you into such temptation? Your lab partner? A study buddy? Your previously platonic roommate who nursed a hopeless crush on you all through Junior year only to have his hopes raised and then dashed after one night of torrid, impossible passion?"

She eyed him. "Either you watch too much TV or you've had way too much to drink." She brushed her hair back from her face and shook her head. "There was no torrid passion. It was one clumsy kiss that did zero for my libido, and it lasted about five seconds. I like to pretend it never happened, because it practically didn't." Her face screwed up in a frown. "I don't think I've ever told anyone about that."

"Huh," he said. He mulled it over and took a long pull from his tankard of ale. "I get it, ya know? I do. Women are hot. And they smell nice. Men are disgusting." He let out a huge belch as though to prove his point and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I wouldn't kiss a dude. No tellin' where his mouth's been."

"Good to see you're so comfortable with your own sexuality."

"But it's kinda cool," he continued as though she hadn't spoken, "to hang out with a chick like this." He waved his hand between them. "You know, without you thinkin' I'm all hot and shit."

"Hhmm," she said, tone dry. "That's a problem you usually have with women?"

"Well, yeah. I can't turn this off." He flashed her a cocky grin and she laughed.

"Dean, get off it." She took the tankard from him despite his token protests. "What's really on your mind?"

He plucked at the straw beneath them, picking up bits of it and swirling it between his fingers. She watched him. Sipped her ale. The stable smelled, not unpleasantly, of horses and hay, and it was warm and cozy in here. She could wait.

"I let him choose," he finally said.

She peered at him over the mug, one brow raised, and stayed quiet.

"Sam. I told him he could be with her if he wanted, and I meant it." He tossed the straw aside. "I swear I meant it."

"I believe you," she said.

"He just couldn't have it both ways. He couldn't be thinking about her, wondering about her, worrying about her, and trying to hunt at the same time. He'd get himself killed. Or me. Or both of us. And now Cas.…" He trailed away. She didn't know about Cas, and he wasn't sure he wanted to dive into all of that with her.

"You just gotta be here, all here," he said. "I tried to have both once, and it nearly cost me everything. Sam knows that. I gave up…I gave someone up for this life because I had to. I know how much it hurts. That's why I gave him the choice."

"Okay," she said. She sat back against the hay bale and fiddled with her mug. "Maybe you should be telling him this, not me."

"He should know all of it. I shouldn't have to say it."

"Doesn't mean it isn't nice to hear," she said, her voice gentle.

He surged to his feet and paced away. She watched him from the hay-strewn floor. "What was her name?" she said.

He went still, his entire body rigid with hurt and, she thought, fury. She wondered if he'd storm out without telling her. Probably. It was a very Dean Winchester thing to do.

He surprised her. The tension drained away, and he said: "Lisa." His chin dropped to his chest. "Lisa and Ben."

"Ben? You have a kid?"

"No," he said. "The kid was hers. But he…he kinda felt like mine."

A long silence. She stood and took a step toward him. Rested a hand on his arm and realized he wasn't as relaxed as she'd thought. He spun to face her, and his eyes were livid with heartbreak.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have asked."

"I haven't said their names in years."

"I'm sorry," she said again. It felt inadequate and stupid.

"No, it's.…" He shook his head, and his mouth quirked in a humorless half smile. "I mean, yeah, it hurts like a son of a bitch, and part of me wants to punch you in the face, but…I spent a year in Purgatory, and Sam moved on. When I gave him the chance to go for good, he didn't take it. Maybe because of Cas. Maybe because of me. Maybe because that's just the life, and there really isn't any getting out of it. Whatever the reason, hating him for it is as stupid as trying to forget Lisa and Ben."

"So why torture yourself trying?"

"I still don't want to talk about them."

She held up her hands in surrender. "No talking. Taboo subject. Danger, Will Robinson." She paused. "You could tell me about this mysterious Cas instead. Is she hot?"

"First, Cas is a guy. Second, you are nosy as hell, you know that?"

She wrinkled her nose. "What kind of name is Cas for a guy? Are you sure it's not short for Cassandra? Cassie?"

"Castiel, and he's an angel, so they're all sort of weird and androgynous, but as far as I know he's a dude. Sorry."

"Hum. Bummer." She sank down on the hay bale and contemplated her ale.

"That's it? Bummer? No comment on the fact that he's a card-carrying member of Halos 'n' Wings R Us?"

"What, that?" She shrugged. "Par for the course with you guys. At this point you could probably tell me you slew a dragon and I wouldn't be surprised."

He grabbed the mug from her hand, took a long draught, and handed it back to her. "We slew a dragon."

She stared up at him, slack-jawed. "You're shitting me."

"I shit you not."

"Wow," she said. "I can't decide if your job is the coolest or the worst."

"Hah," he said and settled next to her. "Yeah, me neither."

The earlier silence returned and nestled in around them. Through it they could hear other sounds: the settling horses; voices raised in post-battle victory songs; clanking tankards; the clink and rattle of mail. All of that seemed far away, miles from their little pocket of quiet, and in the peaceful stillness she reached for his hand. Twined her fingers through his.

"We could go to the pub. Try to pick up a few lusty bar wenches," she said.

"Nah," he said. "I think I'm okay here."

"Yeah," she said. "Me too."

"Charlie?" he said after another quiet moment.

"Yeah?"

"You're awesome."

She sighed. "I know."

A pause.

"You are, too."

There you are, dear readers. Short and (I hope) sweet.

Every time you review, Sam pulls his hair back in a ponytail and Dean makes a speech from an epic movie. He learns new ones just for you.