I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks as I watched the disgusting display of affection from across the bar. Well, I wouldn't call it affection so much as shameless groping with an intent of much more. As many times I had seen such a thing, I could never get used to it. I tried to tell myself many times that I didn't care, but my body always seemed to betray my inner mantra with a tense glare and a slow fire inside my belly.

"Just tell him." Sam's frustrated whisper jerked me from my thoughts and I quickly snapped my attention back towards him, clearly caught.

"Tell him what?" I scowled, taking a large gulp from my beer. I fixed my eyes on the bottles of liquor in front of me, not looking my friend in the eye. He was always so damned observant, which wasn't always a bad thing. However, I was not in the mood for another one of his pep talks when it came to his brother.

"Don't play dumb." He shot a glance over at Dean and the scantily clad blonde next to the jukebox. "He's only doing it to get a rise out of you."

"I don't care." I shrugged then signaled to the bartender for another beer.

"Clearly, not true."

"So, what, you're a mind reader now?"

"You're pretty easy to read."

"Yeah? What am I thinking right now?" I turned and fixed him with an emotionless stare, my eyes already starting to cloud with a pretty decent buzz.

"Screw you."

"Good guess, but it was fuck you."

"This has gone on long enough." Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're both driving me crazy."

"I'm not doing anything!" I whispered harshly.

"Exactly. You should be doing something."

"Sam…" I rubbed my eyes slowly, trying to concentrate on the words forming in my brain. It was becoming increasingly more difficult with each swig of my beer and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and slip into sweet, ignorant slumber.

"If you just tell him how you feel…"

"Sam, I love you to death, but for fuck sake!" I hadn't meant to raise my voice, but my inhibitions were starting to waver. He looked shocked for a brief moment, even taking the precaution to scoot back in his chair a little. His jaw flexed and I could tell he was itching to say something else.

"Please," I begged, softly this time. I gripped his arm and gave it a small squeeze in apology. "I just can't tonight."

"Fine." He straightened his posture and found interest in a nearby TV while I downed the rest of my beer, a little too quickly.

I had to get out of there. I couldn't stand the tension from Sam, who I had clearly injured with my harsh tone, and the flaunting of Dean's latest conquest. I stood, reaching into my pocket for some bills to pay my tab.

"I'm going back to the room," I mumbled, tossing the money on the bar. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Sam nodded, but didn't turn to acknowledge me and it tugged at my heart. I hated fighting with him, especially since we had grown so close over the past several months. He was like the brother I never had; the big protector.

I sighed and slid up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and laying my head on his back. I felt him stiffen at first, wanting to pretend that he could actually stay mad at me for long. He lost the battle within seconds and gently patted my interlaced fingers, his way of assuring me that all was OK. I smiled against him and planted a quick kiss on his cheek before letting go.

As I started to turn, a wall of solid, six foot flesh blocked my exit and I nearly jumped at the sudden closeness. "Fuck, Dean."

"Easy there, tiger." He smirked, reaching out to steady me as I clutched my chest. "Going somewhere?"

"Back to the room," I mumbled, not letting my eyes connect with his. I glanced past him to see the blonde leaning seductively against the jukebox, watching him. We locked eyes for a brief second and I could swear she was sizing me up.

"Seriously? Haven't even been here an hour."

"I've seen enough," I answered flatly, stealing another glance at the woman. My nostrils flared involuntarily and I could feel another rush of heat making its way up my neck and into my face. I quickly pulled myself together, but the episode had not gone unnoticed by Dean's ever watchful eye. He threw a sideways glance where my attention had been.

"Are you mad or somethin'?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"What is it with you Winchesters?" I gritted my teeth, trying to control the alcohol from loosening my lips too much. "I just want to go to bed. Is that a crime?"

"No, sweetheart, not a crime," Dean growled back at me. "You really should stick around though."

"Why?"

"I'm sure there's someone here willing to fuck the bitch out of you for one night."

I could faintly hear Sam's warning tone as he pushed back from the bar, his drink forgotten amidst the storm brewing in front of him. Everything else around me seemed to fade into black and all I could see was the look of shock on Dean's face as my hand connected fiercely with his right cheek.

I was instantly lifted off the ground as Sam's arms looped around my waist and I was vaguely aware of being carried off in the direction of the front door. I struggled with him out of instinct, never willing to let someone or something overpower me but I was silenced by the roughness of his voice.

"Enough!" He set me down, not too gently, once the cool air of the evening hit my burning skin. "You need to calm down."

"I...he...that sonofa…"

"What the hell?!" Leave it to Dean to continue to instigate as he came charging onto the sidewalk. "What is your problem?"

"Dean…"

"You are my problem!" I pointed an accusatory finger at him, but was unable to take another step closer due to Sam's purposeful barrier between us. "Always trying to push my Goddamn buttons!"

"How? What in the hell have I done to you?"

"Like you don't know," I sneered.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking, woman!"

"Both of you, just shut up!"

The force behind Sam's voice made us both snap our mouths shut and take an uneasy step back. In an instant I felt like a small child being chastised for poking the bear.

"She's pissed at you, because she loves you," he said exasperated, turning to his brother with arms out to his sides. Then, as I feared, he turned his attention to me. "He keeps pushing your buttons because he wants you to admit it."

I swallowed hard as tears threatened to spill down my cheeks. I couldn't believe the betrayal; Sam had promised to let it go. The fact that the "truth" was out there in the universe now made my stomach twist in knots. I was willing to live without ever knowing if Dean could be capable of reciprocating romantic feelings, but now I was faced with the distinct possibility of rejection. Sam said he had wanted me to admit it, but not that he shared the sentiment.

"Screw you, Sam!" I cried, not wanting to stick around for whatever came next. I turned on my heel and stomped off towards the motel which was just across the street. I bit my lip, willing my tears back into my head, at least until I was safely in my room. I never cried in front of them and I wasn't going to start now.

I fumbled with my keys, cursing loudly when I dropped them in the dirt. Once I finally managed to get a grip, I entered my room and slammed the door behind me. Then, I walked over to slam and lock the door that joined our rooms together, breaking the code of always being in the line of sight in case of trouble.

I fell onto the bed, my head spinning beyond recognition. I was plagued with the fear that I would have to leave tomorrow, unable to face Dean after tonight's big reveal. I had been awkward and painful enough to deal with the unrequited feelings before, but now it would be damn near unbearable to even look him in the face.

It was true; I loved Dean. I tried not to love him, especially after learning about his extracurricular activities with random women early on. He was always very open about his sexual escapades and I couldn't expect him to change, but every now and then I caught glimpses of promise. He always seemed to take extra care to ensure my safety, despite my years of training as a hunter. He tolerated my quirks and even found some of them "adorable" as he put it. He let me drive Baby, a feat no one other than Sam had accomplished. I even entertained the idea that he meant to touch me or be close to me more often than not. I'm pretty sure I caught him on several occasions staring at me, but it could have been wishful thinking. He never made a move or propositioned me though and if Dean Winchester wanted something, he certainly didn't hesitate.

I secretly wished I loved Sam the way I loved Dean. It would have been easier. Sam was always so open with his feelings, very different from his brother. I was often amazed that they were even related. Why couldn't I fall for the sweet, emotionally available, pretty guy? I must be a masochist.

I decided to curb the impending headache and took a couple aspirin with a glass of water. I was no longer buzzed, but my adrenaline was causing a slow throb in my temples. I also decided to keep my mind distracted by cracking open my laptop to research a future case; possibly one I could handle on my own.

About twenty minutes later I heard the front door to the adjoining room open and close, but I could only make out one set of footsteps trudging through. I somehow sensed that it was Sam and frowned as I thought of the implications. Dean was either still at the bar drinking away or had already gone back to the blonde's house for his usual. Once again, I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.

I knew it wouldn't be long until Sam came knocking on the door to check on me and I just didn't want to deal with it tonight. I shut down my laptop, grabbed my nighttime gear of grey cotton shorts and an old, black Poison t-shirt that was beginning to tear in certain spots, and entered the bathroom. I immediately turned on the shower, drowning out any knocks or cell phone ringtones that may have threatened my peaceful wallowing.

l undressed and climbed in as soon as the water was warm enough, sighing as the stream beat down heavily on my body. I could feel all my muscles loosening up and inhaled the sweet scent of my pomegranate body wash. There was something about a nice, hot shower that seemed to cure all the ailments of the body and soul. I lost myself in memories of my childhood, old hunts with my parents and then some more recent times with the Winchesters. I only focused on the good times for now, wishing that everything could be normal again.

I must have remained there for at least thirty minutes because when I looked down at my fingers, they had started to shrivel slightly. I dried myself slowly and went through my normal routine of brushing my teeth, lotioning every inch of my body because I couldn't stand the feeling of dry, post shower skin (another "adorable" quirk) and blow drying my hair. I dressed myself, hugging the Poison shirt to my frame in nostalgic bliss. If I ever got to sneak away, I was going to find tickets to a show. Maybe I could run away with Bret Michaels and forget all this hunting and Winchester nonsense. I chuckled softly to myself and opened the bathroom door back to reality.

I froze when I saw an uninvited guest sitting on my bed, leaning against the headboard with his shoes off. He was staring right at me with those intense green eyes and I nearly bolted back into the bathroom like a frightened animal.

"Dean…" I swallowed hard, still rooted in my spot. "How did you…" I realized exactly who I was talking to and chided myself. Dean could break into anything he wanted to. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't say anything, just stared at me with those smoldering eyes. I honestly couldn't tell what he was thinking and it drove me crazy. I suddenly wished I had Sam here to interpret that unspoken Winchester language.

Dean stood and made his way over to me, taking care not to spook me as I must have looked like a deer in headlights. He stopped inches from me and I could feel the heat of his body as the hairs on my arm stood straight up. He was looking at me so intensely that I could feel my knees begin to buckle, but I held on.

"Is it true?" His voice was soft but firm, wanting an honest answer. I almost didn't comprehend because I was too busy concentrating on my breathing.

"Is what true?"

"What Sammy said outside the bar. That you…" he trailed off, unable to say the words.

That broke my daze and I sighed heavily, running my hand down the length of my face. I wasn't ready for this moment of truth. Couldn't I just keep the guise up a little longer? I felt like an hourglass was about to be flipped over, counting down the hours until I had no choice but to slip away unnoticed.

"Yes," was my miserable response as I dropped my gaze to the floor. I couldn't stand to see the reaction on his face.

Love it? Hate it? Should Dean go for it? This chapter was rated T, but should the next be M? ;-)