AN: Kind of impromptu fic, written quite early in the morning, because a few people asked for more Fem!Chuck, but I'm not much used to writing for her - so take this as me experimenting with her character. I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!
"So things didn't work out with you and Buck?" the Hunter asked, a ghost of a grin on his face as he leaned into the bar.
"Not so much," Charlie said with a half-smile, her eyes flitting up to meet Dean's for the briefest of seconds before they flickered back to her drink. Her hands continued to fidget, twisting the straw or rotating the glass. He watched her consume her attentions with that for a moment before chuckling into himself and taking another swig. "So what about you?" she asked, remembering that it was considered polite to return questions – but her head was swimming with thoughts; mostly how awkward she felt here, more so than usual.
"You know me," he shrugged casually, and then he paused, raising an eyebrow, "you really know me."
Which was true, she didn't have to ask him if he'd been seeing anyone – she would have known, just like she knew everything about the Winchester boys. "How long did Sam say he would be?" She asked, stuck in her own line of thought.
Dean's brow creased slightly as he tried to catch up to her, but nodded gradually, "he's giving the girl a ride home." Charlie nodded, knowing he was referring to a girl they had saved on their last hunt – the hunt which had brought them to town and prompted this visit.
Charlie pushed a hand through her shag of brown hair and took another sip of her drink. She wouldn't ever admit it out loud, but she liked these times that she got to spend alone with Dean, as rare as they were. It wasn't like she pretended to hate him, she just didn't have the courage to admit her true feelings for the older Winchester. She had connected with him and his story from a young age. And that wasn't to say she didn't like Sam, she felt for him too, but the writer had had an in-depth look at his dark side, and it terrified her.
"That was a close one," she commented weakly, pushing away flashes of their most recent encounter with Ghouls. She would never get used to the horror and gore which her dreams contained. The Winchesters, both parents and sons, had had a raw deal; their bad experiences seemed to strongly outweigh their positive. She wouldn't compare her nightmares to the boys having to go through it, but it was still a heavy burden for her to carry.
"They always seem to be," he said, swallowing a little stiffly. Dean's eyes seemed to glaze over a little at that, and Charlie watched him for a few seconds before folding her arms across her stomach to stop herself from fidgeting more.
An uncomfortable lull fell between them then, something which she didn't want. It spoiled the occasion. It seemed like the three of them could only get together when something serious was happening, and when it was something more casual like this, the only thing they really had in common to talk about was what happened with them – her dreams, their reality – and that was something none of them wanted to think about.
Sam pushed through the door then, clambering past the people that littered the bar, flicking back his hair with a hand and his eyes shifting quickly, scanning the room for them. A full smile spread across his face when he finally spotted Dean and Charlie, and he instantly pulled her into an embrace. As much as he could scare her, there was a warmth to him which was still innocent and child-like, and it was a quality she admired after all he had been through, "Charlie, it's good to see you again," he said genuinely.
"You too, Sam," she replied, her voice quiet and hesitant. The hug threw her off a little, and her movements seemed stunted as she sat back down. He pulled a chair over and sat between her and Dean, still towering over them even then.
"Get her home okay?" Dean asked his brother in his usual gruff voice.
"Uh, yeah, she's fine," Sam said, his expression somewhat vacant until he pulled a smile again, fishing in his pocket for the keys to the Impala before tossing them back to Dean.
Dean nodded, putting them in his pocket but saying nothing more. And a silence fell again. Charlie looked away, feeling even more uncomfortable than usual. And Sam clenched his jaw, frowning and looking between his brother and the prophet and wondering if he had walked in on some argument. A tongue darted out to wet his lips before he sighed and slapped his hands down on his knees, "well, I'm gonna go get a drink, you guys good?"
Charlie looked up and smiled, shaking her head and tossing around the mane of chocolate tangles in the process. Everything about her posture was closed off – her legs twisted together, her hunched shoulders and arms crossed over her stomach – and yet her slender frame combined with the tank-top and tight jeans told the world she was available. It was an unusual combination, and as usual Dean's little radar picked up on it loud-and-clear. Mixed signals, sure, but the reason he was being so quiet was because he had never had the opportunity to be alone with Charlie in a situation that wasn't frantic or life-and-death; and because of that he had never had the opportunity to appreciate just how beautiful she was. He blinked away the thoughts again and shook his head in response to Sam who raised his eyebrows in a look which said, "Okaaay", and he stood again moving to the bar.
"You shouldn't uh… hide yourself," Dean said eventually, frowning at himself almost before the words had left his mouth.
Charlie swallowed a little, looking up to meet his gaze and cocking her head to one side, "huh?"
Dean's face scrunched up as he tried to figure out what he was saying, "you know – you shouldn't act so self-conscious all the time… you're a pretty girl," his brow seemed to remain furrowed in that intense face she had seen him pull so many times before.
Her face was a torrent of emotions – mostly those associated with being awkward or embarrassed – and a pink blush coloured her cheeks as she looked back down at her lap.
Dean's head nodded so slightly that it was barely noticeable, "come on," he said quietly to her, encouragingly.
She slowly unfolded her arms and struggled to find something to do with them before carefully crossing them on the table in front of her, and lifted her head up, revealing a shy smile and rosy cheeks.
A hint of a smile grazed his lips, "there you go."
And Sam flopped down at the table again, Dean immediately clearing his throat and Charlie reverting to playing with her drink again. The younger Hunter looked back between the other two a few times before rolling his eyes and sitting back, sighing with exasperation, his hand moved in a cutting motion between them.
"Seriously guys, you two: sexual tension, knife."