Disclaimer: A Swanchester AU set during a dull point in season 8 of Supernatural after the Winchesters discover the bunker. And it's set a few years after the Once Upon a Time pilot where Henry fails to show up at Emma's apartment door. Based on a photoset I made on tumblr and I wrote a bit more, so I decided to share it on here. Mainly because it's more organized lol. I own neither show nor their characters. Enjoy!
Dean stood at the hostess stand, waiting for the witness to show up. A hunter buddy of his phoned him up a few days ago, requesting help on a particular job just a few hours from the bunker. Work had been going slow, so Dean decided to stop by and help. After all, Buck had saved his ass once before. So when he called and asked Dean to go undercover, under the rouse of the witness's blind date to get information, Dean felt like he owed it to the guy.
Dean only had a description of the woman who had apparently seen a ghost in her office building. She was medium height, blonde with curly hair. But that was all he knew. And her name, of course.
A few women fitting the vague description had walked into the restaurant, but were soon accompanied by a date or companion. He was getting frustrated, she was late.
"Dean?"
He looked up and met the eyes of a gorgeous woman fitting Buck's description, wrapped up in a tight pink dress and heels. She was hesitant with her question, until he smiled.
"Emma?"
A smile of relief spread across her face as Dean held out his hand to exchange a shake.
"You look surprised," she said nervously, but a playful tone laced in her voice.
Dean realized he was surprised, and his face wasn't hiding it well. He wasn't expecting such a pretty witness, and he had to force himself to remember that he was here on a job and she was a part of that. But, on the other hand, what was the harm in having a little fun on the job? He had to be convincing, didn't he?
"Buck just forgot to mention how pretty my date was." Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she dropped her eyes in embarrassment. "They have a table ready for us, if you'd care to have a drink?" he asked with a charming smile and head tilt.
She looked down, laughing coyly as she nodded and let him lead her towards their table.
They sat down and Dean knew that it was best to start with the preliminaries, but he felt like he was under some kind of spell at the moment. Like this was a real date, something he hadn't done in a long time. And he didn't want to break the spell just yet.
He ordered a couple of glasses of red wine.
"So, what else did Buck tell you about me?" Emma asked, in a slightly nervous tone.
Dean panicked only slightly, but recovered when he remembered the story Buck had given him. "Just that you work with a friend of his at a… law firm?" She nodded, smiling. He chuckled. "Right. Um, he said that you expressed wishes to be set up. And lucky for me, I happened to have requested the same from him not too long before that."
"I usually don't do the whole blind date thing," she admitted. "You never know who you're gonna meet. For all I know you could be married or, I don't know, store body parts in your freezer." Dean mouth dropped slightly, unsure how to respond. She smirked, "But I was a little short on cash this week and needed a free meal."
Dean chuckled at her joke. She was funny. "Yeah, I don't usually do this either. You're right though, you never know who you'll end up meeting. Luckily you weren't a 95 year old woman… or a man."
"Is that all it takes to keep from turning your head?" she asked with a giggle.
He shrugged. "Well, they still would have had a good time. Just not in the same way." She laughed again, moving a stray curl behind her ear. "So, why don't you fill in a little about yourself that Buck seemed to withhold?"
She straightened up a little. "Well, um. Today's my birthday."
His brow creased. He wasn't much for celebrating birthdays, hell he couldn't remember the last time he even celebrated his own. But his life wasn't exactly normal. And from what he gathered, normal people usually celebrated their birthdays. They didn't spend it on a blind date with a stranger. "And you're spending it with me? I mean, I'm not much of the celebrating type, but don't people usually spend their birthdays with friends?"
"I'm… kind of a loner," she said tentatively.
He nodded. "And you don't live near any family?"
"No family to live near," she said with a shrug.
The apathetic way she said that struck a chord for Dean. "Everyone has family."
She released a breathless laugh, "Technically. But people usually know who they are." She rose a brow. "Ready to run?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't scare that easy, believe me."
She smiled, a breath of relief leaving her lungs. "So tell me, Dean. What is it that you do for a living? Buck didn't give me much to work with."
"Well, uh," he was going to give her the usual: worked in the family business with his brother, nothing exciting. But he remembered the role he was supposed to be playing. Buck had wanted to make sure that she knew he worked for the FBI, that way it wouldn't be strange later if he ended up asking about the case and offering to help. So he pulled out his badge. "Actually, I'm sort of in my own line of justice work," he flipped it open, she rose an eye brow, "I work for the FBI."
Emma laughed, slightly nervous. "Are you sure you're allowed to show me this?"
"Off the clock," he chuckled. "For now."
"Alright, so that covers business. But what about you? No wait, let me guess," she said with a playful smile as she leaned forward a little. "Umm, you are handsome, charming…"
Dean smiled, and he felt his cheeks deepen a little. "Go on."
Her eyes narrowed a little, her expression changing from playful to interrogating. "The kind of guy who – and now, stop me if I get this wrong – engages in credit card fraud, breaking and entering, grave desecration, identity theft, and impersonating the cops."
Dean's smile fell, and the defenses he had dropped suddenly flew up full shield. The spell was broken. "You're a policeman."
"Police person, actually," she said with a smirk. She pulled out her own badge and laid it next to Dean's on the table.
Dean laughed, leaning back into his seat and shook his head. "Buck, you idiot."
"Don't blame him," she shrugged. "He got caught infiltrating our facilities. When we confiscated his wallet, we noticed a business card. On the back was your name: Dean Winchester. Right there, written in pencil with a number right underneath it. But, see, here's the thing," she leaned forward, raising her brow and tilting her head, "according to our records, you were dead – for the third time, I believe. How does it feel to be back from the grave?"
He couldn't help it, he laughed. "Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea."
Her smile dropped. "I'm surprised you're still here. I half expected you to flip the table over and make a run for it."
Picking up his glass, he took a sip and shrugged. "If you knew I was coming, you probably knew what I was driving. In fact, if I had to guess, you've probably already put a boot on my car. That is, if Buck gave you that information too."
"I do apologize for my tardiness," she smirked. "It is a nice Impala."
He smiled proudly. "So what's the use? Plus, I think you like me."
"Excuse me?" she asked, her smile dropping as she rose an eye brow.
"Well, it took you quite a while to finally drive the nail in. But not until after you told me about yourself."
She shook her head, "I could have been lying."
"So you don't think I'm handsome and charming?" he asked, faking an insulted face. She rolled her eyes and he shrugged. "You could have been lying. But you weren't, well except for the law firm thing."
"I do work with lawyers."
He smiled, "Say, should we tell the waiter it's your birthday? Maybe we'll get a free cake! Or pie, you think they have birthday pies?"
Her mouth had dropped slightly and her brow had creased as she listened to him. "Mr. Winchester –"
"Dean," he said with a smile. "We are on a date, remember? No need to be so formal."
"Dean," she hissed, annoyance dripping from her lips. "I don't think you realize how much trouble you're in. You've got torture and mass murder sitting at the top of your record. Detective Henderson reported you and your brother dead just hours before he himself died. And then a few years later you and your brother's faces were plastered over every wanted poster in America just before an autopsy report said that you both died in a shoot out in yet another sheriff station. And yet here you are in the flesh. How exactly do you explain that?"
"So what was Buck doing breaking into your work?" Dean asked, ignoring Emma's question. "I mean, I know he's not exactly the brightest. But even he should know better than to try and break into a police station and get caught."
Emma sighed, but she decided that as long as he wasn't running, she would amuse him. "Said there was something going on. We've had a couple officers get into accidents, most of them are in the group I work with. He said he was here to help save us. Can you believe that? Was spouting out stuff about ghosts and spirits. The guy's a nut case."
Dean chuckled, "Oh, you have no idea. So how did you talk him into setting me up?"
"Well, after we ran his name in the computers, turns out he also had quite a list of charges against him. Most of them were similar to yours – excluding the torture and murder. We threatened to send him to prison –"
"Unless he got you me."
She smiled, confirming that he was right.
He picked up a piece of the bread that sat in the middle of the table, pulling at a little piece and popping it into his mouth. "So what's going on with your partners then?"
"That's none of your concern."
"Humor me," he shrugged. "We have to get through this date somehow – might as well have a bit of light conversation to go along with it."
Her eyes narrowed. "I should be taking you in right now."
"But you're not going to," he smiled. "Because I think you're curious about why Buck was even here. How he knew that something weird was happening." She inhaled sharply. "I think you don't think Buck's talk about ghosts and spirits is so nutty."
"Don't be ridiculous," she said, a little too hostile. "There's no such thing."
He scrunched his brow, "No one likes a skeptic."
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, "Is that what you like to tell yourself? You do these bad things and then, what? Blame it on ghosts? Is that what happened in St. Louis? A ghost tortured and killed that young woman?"
"A shape shifter, actually."
Emma made a disgusted face, "You sick –"
"Look at my face," he interrupted, leaning forward and imitating her posture. "I did not do anything to that woman, or the one in Baltimore. I did not do anything to Detective Hendrickson. In fact, I was trying to save them. I didn't commit any mass murders." He scrunched his brow, inhaling through his teeth sharply, "I can't really say I'm not guilty of the fraud, impersonation, or breaking and entering though."
She stared at him for a few seconds, looking from one eye to the other.
"Come on, Emma. You have been reading me all night. At first I thought it was just a lawyer thing, but now I know. The only thing I've lied about tonight has been this," he put his finger on his badge. "Everything else is honest. Especially Buck not mentioning how attractive you are."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You could have some mental disorder that makes you believe that what you're saying is really true. And just because you believe something is true doesn't make it real."
Dean clutched his chest, "How insulting. Your words hurt. Do I look like someone with a mental disorder?" She rose her a brow. "Don't answer that."
"Mr. Winchester -" he held up his hand. "Dean. Will you be going with me to the station willingly, or do I need to call the swat team I have on standby?"
He held up his finger, "I will go to the station with you willingly, Emma. But only if we stay and finish dinner. And you can ask me anything you want and I will be completely honest with you – but only if you offer me the same."
She hesitated, thinking over his proposal. She tapped her fingers against her glass a few times, then brought it to her lips. He wasn't lying, at least from what she could tell. After she swallowed, she rose her glass, "Deal."
He smiled, knowing full well that she would agree, his proposal was too good to pass up. He rose his own glass and tapped it against hers. This was going to be an interesting date.