A/N: Another tumblr prompt. Short ficlet... La di da. Read and review!

Oh check out my long story I'm writing with Naz (sideburnsandbowlegs). It's titled A Rush Of Blood to the Head. GO READ IT :]

Disclaimer: Don't own. Blah.

After that fiasco with Amy, the Kitsune whose mother almost murdered him and drank his brain juice, Sam thinks that maybe he should stay away from girls for a while. That is, until he meets Veronica Styles. Veronica's a short, stocky brunette who wears punk rock tees and is pretty damn skilled with a shotgun. Which comes in handy when they're trying to take out the vengeful spirit of her father's ex-wife, who's already sent Veronica's sister to an asylum and is hell bent on killing her mother.

Sam offers to stay with Veronica while Dean and Mr. Styles go dig up the grave. Dean raises an eyebrow, but leaves without a word.

Sam and Veronica order a pizza and settle down to watch some B-movie horror films-Veronica's got a pretty sick sense of irony-and Sam is honestly enjoying himself. He likes the way Veronica laughs at all the gory parts, and the way she takes the last slice without even asking if he wants it. He likes the way her green eyes go all squinty when she smiles. He likes the way she punches him in the shoulder when he involuntarily lets out a shriek as the slasher jumps out from behind the door. He likes the way she stretches like a cat when she yawns and her head slips onto his shoulder.

She's asleep when Dean gets back, and Sam's arm has gone pins and needles under her weight. Dean glowers.

"Get up Sammy, bones are burned, time to head out."

Sam frowns. "Can't we.. can we just stay the night? Make sure nothing else happens?"

Dean scowls. "Yeah, sure Sam. But we're going back to the motel."

Sam gently lifts Veronica's head and she blinks awake.

"Oh, shit, sorry!" She exclaims, pushing herself off of Sam.

"It's okay, no big deal," Sam grins slightly, but Dean's death glare tells a different story.

The ride back to the motel is quiet, Dean silently fuming, and Sam thinking wistfully about clear green eyes and freckles. Dean takes the bed, so Sam curls up on the couch, still confused as to what put the bee in Dean's bonnet.

The phone wakes them up at 5:30am. Sam gets to it first and hears Veronica panting on the other end. "S-sam?" She whispers. "It's back. I shot it with salt, like you said, but it won't go away!"

"We'll be right there," Sam promises, jeans already half pulled on. Dean groans and groggily stumbles out of bed.

When they get to the Styles' house, the spirit is indeed back. Dean questions Mr. Styles about any parts of his ex-wife that could still be around, locks of hair, a finger-they've seen stranger in the past- while Sam helps Veronica salt the windows and doors. When they finish they realize they've ended up in Veronica's bedroom. Sam laughs nervously and Veronica chews her lip.

"So," she begins, running her hand through her hair.

Sam looks at his feet, feeling a blush creep up his neck. And then suddenly Veronica launches herself at him and presses her lips to his. His eyes widen in surprise and he almost pushes her away, but then realizes that would hurt her feelings, and he really doesn't want to do that, especially because her lips are soft and warm and...

Suddenly he hears a throat clearing behind him and spins around.

"Dean!" he exclaims. "Shit I-"

Dean looks like he's going to stab something. He looks right at Sam and growls "Car. Now."

Sam looks apologetically at Veronica who shrugs it off.

He follows Dean through the kitchen, which smells awful after they burned the hair sweater that psycho-ex made for Mr. Styles as an anniversary gift, and out the front door. The door is barely closed behind them when Dean rounds on Sam.

"What were you doing?" he demands.

"I'm sorry Dean! I didn't mean to interfere with the hunt- I just- she-"

Dean scowls. "I don't care about the hunt, Sam, I care about you and that, that skank. "

"She's not a sk-"

"I don't give a fuck Sam! You're mine, okay?"

Sam's eyes go wide and Dean freezes, realizing what he said.

"What-I-Dean-what?" Sam stammers.

Dean curses. "Shit Sammy I didn't mean-" but it's too late. Sam heard, there's nothing he can do now. He chews his lip and clears his throat. "Yeah, Sam I... I was jealous."

Sam looks up at Dean shyly. "Really?" he manages to ask. Dean nods and Sam breaks into a smile, quickly closing the distance between them. He fits into Dean's arms perfectly, nestling his face into the crook of Dean's neck. Dean's hands snake around Sam, pulling him closer. He nudges Sam's face upwards and their lips meet.

Dean's lips are soft and warm and any thoughts of Veronica instantly vanish from Sam's mind, not that his thoughts had really been about her in the first place. He leans into Dean, their bodies pressed impossibly close, and murmurs, "I'm yours."