"So neither of you have any idea where these came from?" Dean's line of questioning is becoming more intense.
"I ahhh…nope." Sam shakes his head as you try to inch behind him without being noticed.
"What about you? You're surprisingly quiet for someone with never ending opinions." Dean turns his focus to you.
There's a pair of lacy, black panties dangling from his index finger. The evidence.
"I have no idea." You raise your hands in a gesture of reluctance as heat rises in your cheeks.
"Maybe they're yours. I mean, not yours, but that girl you went home with last week." Sam offers, stumbling over his words.
"I think I would remember if I took her thong off in the back of my car." Dean glares at both of you, disgusted.
Sam's eyes dart from you and back to Dean. If we're being honest those are definitely your panties that Dean's waving around. You have a crystal clear memory of lying in the back seat when Sam slid them down your legs and tossed them on the floor, where they were apparently forgotten.
"You know what?" You gather your courage and step forward, "I think those are mine, they must have fallen out my bag." You snatch your underwear from their perch on Dean's finger and ball them up in your hand.
"I knew it." Dean throws his hands in the air, full of indignation. "I knew it…in my car…you two."
"It was one time Dean, relax." Sam admits, rolling his eyes.
"It's the principal Sam. And you…" he says your name with revulsion. "You can't use a bed, or a couch or something normal."
Your face flushes bright red. You and Sam involuntarily look at the couch, where just last night Sam went down on you. It only takes Dean a second to catch on.
"Oh my God." Dean howls, "Nowhere is safe."