"Thank you for saving my life," Dean said as he breathed heavily. "I owe you one." He looked down at the gorgeous girl in front of him. Though he was trying to be flirty, she took it literally.
"Don't worry, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I can think of a way or two that you can pay me back," she smiled as she said this.
The dead vampire's fingers moved. A loud shot went off again.
"I think he's dead," Dean said. She just laughed.
"You can never be too sure," she smirked. She just liked holding her shotgun. The shotgun wasn't her favorite though. It was the sword on her spine. She shivered at the thought of it. The cool metal of the long sword in the not nearly covered enough sword.
"Jenna, I really do owe you," Dean said again. Jenna squatted down by the vampire's head and sprayed gas on it.
"Got a light?" Jenna asked with her hand out not looking at the tall very sexy man standing above and behind her. Dean fumbled. As he looked down at the woman who saved his life, he noticed not just the sword or the rose tattoo up her spine, but the scars along her sides. He wasn't checking this out intentionally. He just… happened to have wondering eyes.
With the body of the vampire on fire, they left walking to the car. Jenna had drove, Dean had gotten kidnapped so Dean was going with the strange, beautiful girl willing or… willing.
Half-hour later, they didn't stop at his hotel but at a bar called, "Fantasy". It was a small bar with more booths than tables. Jenna walked in and went straight to the bar. A guy dressed in all leather was the bartender.
"Jenna!" The leather-wearing bartender yelled in excitement.
"Steven!" Jenna yelled back. "Steve, this is Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, meet Steven, the greatest bartender you'll ever meet. He makes the best everything!"
"Open bar?" Dean asked as he took the leather-gloved hand in his. Steven smiled as he shook his hand.
"Oh, sexy man, I will make anything you like," Steven played. Dean opened his mouth but no words came out. Jenna just started laughing. Dean looked at the woman who saved him. She was wearing a black tank and jean shorts. He couldn't tell earlier what she was wearing. Her jet-black hair didn't match her dark green eyes. She was even more beautiful than he had thought.
Her smile put a smile on Dean's face. He hadn't smiled like this since the last time he saw his brother. The thought of his brother suddenly put a downer on the nice moment. Jenna saw the mood change in not just Dean's facial expression, but also his body language.
"What's wrong?" Jenna's question was full of concern.
"Nothing," Dean said plainly.
"Oh, honey, don't you know not to lie to a psychic?" Steven said with a half sarcastic smirk.
"Psychic?" Dean asked.
"Witch, actually, but I only study the," she thought a moment, "'seeing' part of it."
Dean slowly backed away from the beautiful witch. "Why would say this aloud?" They were in a small bar and it was crowded with people. It was silent though.
"Because you are in a bar full of psychics, full witches, and hunters." Jenna's response was in a way that said more of a "duh didn't you know" way. Dean looked around and when he did, everyone was talking and doing their own thing.
It suddenly dawned on him how she knew exactly where he was at and how she knew he had a gun about 100 yards away that had gotten knocked out his hand. She knew his name. Her's had come out the vampire's mouth but very softly.
For some odd reason, though, Dean knew he could trust her, but knowing she was a witch… was the trust real?
"Yes, Dean, its real." Jenna answered as though to read his mind. "I don't practice magic. I just have a gift. My mother was a witch and my father was a hunter. A vampire killed my twin sister. No, not turned. She was tortured, raped, and then sucked dry in the nonpleasurable way."
Dean was shocked by the facts that were crawling out of her mouth. "I'm sorry." Her dark green eyes stared into his sad hazel eyes.
"Steven, I think we're gonna need more than the usual amount of shots tonight," Jenna said as she hopped off her chair. She was only 5 feet 4 inches, which was shorter than what Dean was usually attracted to. For some reason, he wanted to follow her.
"You can stay here if you want," Jenna said.
"Quit doing that!" Dean replied a little annoyed.
"Sorry, honey, but you'll have to get used to it. I can help with it if you want though. I have a potion that will make it so none of the other psychics can read your mind."
"Sounds good," Dean said. He followed the dark haired beauty up a set of stairs in the back of the bar by the bathrooms. He watched as she walked hard up the stairs. Her perfectly round ass swayed back and forth. He could tell that it wasn't forced, just natural. He was starting to enjoy himself.
"You might want to keep those thoughts to yourself, Dean Winchester," Jenna said quietly. Dean felt his face get hot with embarrassment. "Don't be embarrassed. I like it, but you defiantly want to keep them to yourself till we can get to know each other better."
It was odd. As they reached the top of the stairs, Jenna started to take off her clothes. First, her oversized leather jacket. Next, her shirt. She was wearing a black laced bra.
"I thought you said we should get to know each other first," Dean teased. Jenna turned around as she did she end up smack against him because he was walking so close.
"I did and we will. I just need to change into something more comfortable." Jenna walked to her bed and sat down. Dean found a chair opposite her bed. He tried not to watch as she took off her shorts, but… his eyes just couldn't stop staring at the tattoo and scars on her back.
"They're just scared from a very long story," Jenna answered.
"Where's that potion?" Dean asked anxiously.
"Second drawer to the left in the dresser," Jenna replied. Dean got up from his seat but couldn't keep his eyes off her. He didn't know or understand why but he felt like he knew her from somewhere.
"What's it gonna taste like?" Dean wondered aloud.
"Whiskey," Jenna said plainly. "Very strong whiskey." Dean coughed as he downed it.
"I take it you knew I was gonna need this or something." As Dean turned around, Jenna was zipping up her knee high, black boots. For a moment, all Dean wanted to do was… very naughty things to her.
"Are you ready to drink, cowboy?" Jenna asked. Dean smirked.
"Can't you read my mind?" Dean's smile grew bigger as she walked ever so desirably towards him.
"Can you read mine?" Jenna asked. Her body was nearly pressing against his. She was on her tippy toes just to get close enough to his face where their lips would barely touch.
"I'd like to," Dean confessed. Jenna smiled. Their lips barely touch as she replied, "Maybe you will."