Author's Note: Written during a multi-fandom fic tree event with Iawen Londea, using the phrase "Tonight, he had lost one" from her Hunger Games fic.
Dean kicked evil butt and saved the day. It was what he did, all he knew how to do. He saved lives.
Most nights.
Tonight, he had lost one.
"Another beer," he called out, gesturing to the bartender.
"You've had five," she said, coming down to his end of the bar. She was a pretty redhead, and the pout she aimed his way suited her. "Don't you think that's enough?"
"Honey, do I look like I can't handle it?"
Dean placed both elbows on the bar and leaned in, turning up the charm. She responded instinctively, leaning down to gaze into his eyes, and he felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as she was drawn in. He flashed her the smile that charmed the panties off them and waited for her to melt.
"Let me see your hands," she said instead.
Dean obediently held out both hands. He knew they wouldn't shake. Steady enough to aim a gun at twice the blood alcohol. She focused on his hands, and he took the opportunity to let his eyes slide down the smooth expanse of freckled skin to the enticing curve that disappeared beneath her uniform.
"One more. Then I'm cutting you off."
Dean frowned, and knew desolation. This was not a six-beer night. The boy's ripped torso flashed through his mind: pale freckled skin, streaked with darker flecks of blood. Dean reached blindly for his beer as she returned, downing half of it. The burn of alcohol forced the image back. He made himself stop, knowing there would be no more.
"Last one."
He blinked, and the image disappeared.
"Wouldn't want you too drunk to drive home to your girlfriend." She gave him a speculative look and bent low over the bar, letting him admire even more of that lovely freckled skin. He wet his lips, seeing the shine of her black satin bra beneath the low cut blouse.
"No girlfriend, sweet cheeks. Don't you worry."
He smiled again, and this time she did melt. His heart beat a little faster in anticipation, picturing her perfect freckled skin beneath his own. He drained the rest of his pint and wondered if the feel of her, warm and alive, would be enough.