Author's Note: Hello all! This is my first Supernatural fanfic. Ever. I was reading fanfics and thought ... Well ... Deano is a manho. He copes with all the awful shit in his life by boozing and shagging. And this is what happened. I don't own any canon. I do own Maxine. Her accent is Hullish, and I have ... Er ... Had to dull it down a bit because there are some things they say that you could not understand if I wrote it down phonetically.
Also have just discovered my iPad does not do formatting on . Le suck. Means I actually have to use a PC for this! So, take two, plus paragraphing.
"Morning, gorjuss," a voice purred into his left ear. If the body was anywhere near as fine as the voice was, Dean couldn't care that he felt like he'd just been through a shredder. He opened his eyes and a slow grin spread across his face. Oh yeah. She really was that hot. Although the first time he'd checked her out, she had been wearing a fitted pin-stripe suit. The next, she had been bending over to reach the taps to show them the water pressure in the house … and he'd stopped checking her out after that, once the gakis came out of the wood work. Then, he was too busy to check her out.
But he wasn't now, and this morphine they had him on was doing wonders to his brain. She smiled back. She wasn't wearing her pin-striped suit anymore, she was wearing a hospital gown, and her left arm was in a sling and bandages peaked out instead of creamy skin. She was still fucking hot.
"'Ow's you feelin'?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.
"I'm feeling like a lady like you," he said, all charm and twinkle. Her smile spread a bit more.
"Ah'm 'ere te thank ye," she leaned back into the hospital wheelchair. "Fer savin' me. I wanted te be 'ere when ye woke up an' thank ye." Dean blinked and waited patiently as his drugged brain caught up. Her accent had been hard enough to understand hysterical, it was even more difficult to keep up with while high. He thought he got it.
"You could always show me just how thankful you are..." he waggled an eyebrow. She laughed. Winced. Her hand hovered over her injured arm, not touching it. "When we' no' all banged up, yew come stop by an' we'll take up this conversation then." While he may not have entirely followed her, her smile said it all. The nurse appeared to have taken it into her own head to prevent this glorious thing from coming to pass and stepped in to whisk 'Miss Watson' away before the incredibly fine woman could utter a noise of complaint. Which she managed to get out half way down the hallway, with the nurse telling her off for getting out and about and who had helped her get there anyway?
Sam, on the other hand, was grinning from the doorway. "She said to give you this," he said, swaggering in and handing over a folded up piece of paper. Dean, surprised, took it and unfolded to reveal a scrawled number:
"Call me, xx Maxine"
His grin got all the wider. Sam just raised an eyebrow and shook his head.