So sleepy.

The sun is so warm on her skin, the breeze gently wafting around her.

His arms surrounding her, a safe haven.

She turns her head, her eyes opening slowly, almost fighting to remain closed. His face is a blur at first, coming into focus as her eyes finally obey her thoughts and open. His eyes are still closed, his long lashes against his skin, his lips slightly parted as he breathes softly.

She feels a surge in her pulse as she looks at him, so beautiful, so perfect, so peaceful. She is almost breathless as her eyes scan over the planes of his face, freckles still visible beneath the golden tan; the jaw line, unshaven, the cleft in his chin almost hidden by the soft growth. The small bump in his nose, almost unnoticeable, a flaw making the perfection seem even more unreal.

He begins to move, his eyebrows draw together in a small frown as he struggles, like her, to wake. The moss green eyes open, the full lips curve slightly as he sees her, and she feels everything inside her go molten and electric as he reaches a hand to her face and moves in closer to touch his lips to hers.

The kiss is soft, sensuous, the whole world is in it. There is nothing else in the here and now but that. His mouth slants across hers, their lips parting and their tongues gliding against each other, tangling sweetly, and her whole being is centered in this moment, in the feel of his lips and the taste of him, the soft sound of the whispered moan that escapes as he kisses her.

His hand moves, down her back, across her hip, fingers slipping beneath the soft fabric of her shirt, and there is warmth against her skin as his touch brushes over her ribs and he cups her breast. This time the moan is from her, deep in her throat, as he gently kneads the firm flesh, and she presses closer to him as their kiss becomes more frantic, and her arms tighten around his neck...

"Kel! You comin', or what?" Kelsey shot upright in her bed, her eyes wide, her mouth open as she stared at Dean, who stood leaning nonchalantly in her doorway. "I tried to wake you up, but I practically had to come in and throw cold water on you." His brows drew together in a frown, his green eyes actually a little concerned as she stared blankly back at him. "Are you okay? You aren't getting sick, are you?"

Kelsey blinked hard a couple of times, shaking her head a little, trying to clear her mind of the incredibly vivid dream she had been rudely awakened from. "No," she said softly, raising a hand to run through her shoulder length golden brown locks. When she looked back up, Dean's eyes were roaming appreciatively over her breasts, which were making themselves evident under the thin silk camisole she had worn to bed. She jerked the blanket up, holding it in place and glaring at him.

"Do you, uh, wear that to bed every night, Kel? 'Cuz I gotta tell you, it's hot." His eyebrows raised and lowered a couple of times as a one-sided smirk curved his lips.

"Get. Out." Kelsey pointed towards the door, and he had the audacity to look surprised.

"Sure you don't need any help with...anything?"

"OUT!" A low chuckle trailed behind him as he left the room, and she sailed a pillow towards his back.

"Missed!" he called back over his shoulder, and Kelsey huffed out a frustrated breath. How could she be dreaming of that...that...that immature, juvenile, dirty-minded jerk?

She threw back the covers and swung her long, tanned legs over the side of the bed, stretching as she stood and headed to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror, and a pair of dark lashed hazel eyes stared back. A faint spattering of freckles across her nose annoyed her to no end, as always, and her lips pressed together in disapproval. She sighed and opened a small drawer, pulling out a washcloth for her face as she let the water run to get warm.

She was almost dressed, in her faded jeans, well-worn Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt and grey Pumas, when Bobby called up the stairs. "Kelsey Grace, are you comin' or not?"

"I'm on my way down, you old grouch," she countered, then smiled to herself as she finished tying her shoe and grabbed her denim jacket from the chair on her way out the door.

Dean glanced up as Kelsey's footsteps echoed down the old staircase. She was slipping her arms into her jacket as she walked, leaning in to kiss Bobby's cheek, an amused smile on her face, as she walked by him. Bobby couldn't quite stifle the wry grin on his face as he shook his head. Kelsey was twisting her hair into a knot, sticking a clip into it to hold it in place. Dean itched to pull it out, watch that tawny-colored, on-the-edge-of-auburn mass tumble down around her shoulders again. He felt Bobby's disapproving glare and reluctantly pulled his eyes from the sight of her bending to look for a bottle of water in the fridge.

He remembered the first time he'd seen her. All arms and legs, and those big amber eyes that, at the time, looked so large in her face. She was about ten, same age as Sammy, and he was fourteen. She was Bobby's niece, his sister's daughter, and she had come to visit. Or, more likely, she was farmed out to him for some other reason, which Dean never knew. Bobby's place wasn't really the type of place people dropped off little girls just to visit. Now, he and Sam were different. Boys, for one thing. And they were used to being left here and there. Bobby's, for them, was almost like home. Only thing was, the stay just never lasted long enough.

Kelsey and Sam had become friends right off the bat, she called him Shaggy and he called her Freckles, which she hated, but she didn't seem to mind too much from him. Dean only tried it once, and was informed that, since he had more of them than she did, he wasn't allowed. She and Sam had the run of the place, climbing around piles of junk that they should have stayed away from, building forts out of car parts, having a ball together, while Dean, already made to act like an adult by then, helped Bobby work on cars or guns, or do research. God, he had hated research. He still hated research.

They had met up with each other several more times over the years, always at Bobby's, and she and Sam had remained close friends. She and Dean, however, had a kind of rocky relationship, sniping at or outright fighting with each other most of the time, but still settling into a teasing, sarcastic friendship. Dean smiled a little as he remembered them actually making out once, in Bobby's shop. John had almost caught them, and he would have... His smile faded slowly, the loss of his father too new to be able to remember without a rush of pain so intense it almost stole his breath.

At least Sammy was okay. That's all that mattered now. After they got into that huge fight, his little brother had taken off on his own, and a hunt gone wrong had landed him in the hospital for a few days, a two-day drive away near Baltimore. But Sam had refused to let him drive out to pick him up when he was released, so now they were driving in to pick him up at the airport. And he wouldn't feel better until he laid eyes on him in person, made sure he was really okay.

He grabbed his jacket, putting it on as he headed for the door, his hand shoved into his pocket to retrieve the keys to the Impala. Bobby was right behind him, turning to Kelsey as they stepped outside. "Kelse, you want shotgun?"

"No, back seat's fine, Bobby," she answered, glancing at Dean as she felt his eyes on her. She pushed past him, opening the back door and slipping inside, pulling her phone from her pocket and staring intently at the screen. Dean and Bobby crawled in the front, and Baby rumbled to life as Dean backed her up and aimed her towards Sioux Falls Regional Airport.

They waited, mostly silent, for almost half an hour before Dean spotted Sam's head above most of the others coming towards them down the crowded hallway. "Sammy!" he called out, and Sam's eyes searched him out before he raised a hand to answer his big brother's wave. As he drew closer, the crowd thinned out, and Kelsey heard Dean's quiet curse. "Son of a bitch," he muttered, walking towards Sam, his face tight with concern. "Dammit, Sammy! Why didn't you tell me you had a broken leg? What else is going on that you didn't tell me?"

"I'm fine, Dean. It's not a big deal."

"It's a big deal to me. You should have told me."

Sam rolled his eyes, and then his gaze came to rest on Kelsey, who stood a few feet behind Dean. "Kelsey?"

A wide smile brightened her face and put a sparkle in her eyes. "Hey, Shaggy."

Sam dropped his duffle at Dean's feet, using his crutches to move to where Kelsey stood. He propped one crutch under his arm and grabbed her into a hug. "I didn't know you were back."

"Proverbial bad penny, what can I say?" She backed away a step and looked up into Sam's hazel eyes. "So - got a little banged up, huh? Girl scout?"

Sam grinned, flashing those dimples that Kelsey also loved to tease him about. "Still a smartass, too."

It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes as they headed for the Impala, the two old friends chattering nonstop. He threw Sam's duffle into the trunk and climbed behind the wheel, while Sam maneuvered his plaster cast into the passenger side, and Bobby got into the back seat with Kelsey.

After lunch, Sam and Kelsey continued their 'gabfest,' as Dean thought to himself, and he took himself out to the shop, finding whatever he could to keep himself busy. Later in the day, he came in to grab a beer, and heard them laughing in the next room. He walked closer, leaning in the doorway for a bit, listening to their easy give-and-take mixed with frequent laughter. He absently chewed on his lip as he stood there, finally turning to leave, tipping his beer as he went. Kelsey glanced up as he left, then looked up at Sam from her seat on the floor, where she was sitting to sign Sam's cast. Sam shrugged, and she smiled, putting the cap on the marker she'd been using and standing. "I'll be right back," she said, and followed Dean's path out to the shop.

She could hear Metallica playing in the background as she walked in. Dean was at the workbench, shop rag in hand, cleaning tools. She stood quietly for a moment, then walked closer, and he turned his head to glance at her before returning to his task.

"Why don't you come in and have a beer with us, Dean? We've just been catching up with each other, I didn't mean to take over, but we haven't seen each other for a couple of years."

"Didn't want to butt in," he said, working on removing grease from a wrench.

Kelsey stood there for a moment, then walked up beside him and turned her back to the workbench, leaning back against it and looking up at Dean. "I'm sorry. He's your brother, and I know you guys have some things to talk about. I didn't mean to..."

"No problem," he cut her off, his voice curt.

"Dean." Kelsey spoke his name softly and looked up at him until he finally met her eyes and responded.

"Look, Sam would rather talk to you any day. Why do you think he ended up all busted up in the first place? He doesn't want to be around me. He doesn't want to be here, Kel. He's never wanted to be here." He turned and walked away, but Kelsey hurried behind him, grabbing his arm to stop him.

"That's just crazy, Dean. Sam loves you and Bobby. I don't know what happened between you two, but you need to talk to him about it. He's the only family you've got."

"You think I don't know that?" Dean's voice was raised a little as the words came out, but he lowered his head immediately, running his fingers roughly through his hair. "Sorry."

"Dean...it's okay. Just please, go talk to Sam." He looked up, and the expression on his face made her want to comfort him somehow. And, for a split second, she held her breath, thinking he was going to kiss her. But the moment passed, and he stepped away from her, grabbing his beer and heading for the house.

"Okay. I'll go talk to him. But don't be surprised if we end up in another fight."

Kelsey followed him into the house, helping herself to a beer, but staying in the kitchen as Dean walked into the next room. "So, Sammy, what got you?" Dean asked as he dropped to the other side of the couch and propped his feet up on the beat-up old coffee table. "You never did say."

She heard the sound of Sam opening the beer Dean had taken to him, a moment for a swallow, and, "Vamp. Stupid vamp. I got him, though."

"So, just your leg?"

"Some banged-up ribs, and had a concussion. I'm doing okay, though."

She shook her head as they talked around everything but what they should have been talking about, and she began preparing some pasta and garlic bread for supper. By the time the food was ready, the tension had eased between the brothers to the point where they could all eat and talk together.

By ten that night, Kelsey could hardly keep her eyes open, and headed up to bed. She sank into her pillows with a sigh, and was just starting to doze off when she heard Dean's footsteps pass by on the way to his room.

Dean stirred restlessly in his bed, then his eyes opened and he was on full alert as he sat up, reaching to the bedside table for his Colt. He had heard something, and he sat there, completely still and silent, listening. He heard another sound, and this time he was sure. It was coming from Kelsey's room.

He pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxers and headed barefoot down the hall. He heard it again, this time a little louder, a low moan. He opened her door, stepping into the room and looking around with eyes accustomed to seeing in the dark. Nothing there that he could see, but she moved under her covers, her head rolling to the side as her breathing became more harsh, and another soft sigh escaped her lips.

He laid his gun on the table, sitting at the edge of the mattress. He reached to touch her shoulder carefully, not wanting to startle her, and whispered her name. "Kelsey." His only answer was another moan, and it didn't sound like she was in pain. He shook her gently, saying her name a little louder this time. "Kel. Wake up, you're dreaming."

He drew his hand back as if he'd been burned when she reacted just as she had that morning, sitting up quickly, her eyes wide, her mouth open, completely disoriented. Then her eyes fell on him, and before he could react, her hands were in his hair and her lips on his, frantic and heated. He found himself unable to resist at first, the intensity of it sweeping him along, and he kissed her back, almost losing himself in the moment. Then he put his hands on her shoulders, pushing himself away and holding her in place, as he fought to slow his breathing and stop the almost overwhelming desire to give in and just go with it.

"Kelsey. You're dreaming." She looked up at him, her eyes unfocused for a moment, then clearing a little as she took a deep breath. "Are you okay?" He could feel her begin to tremble beneath his hands, and real concern pushed all other thoughts from his mind.

"Dean? What's going on?"

"You were dreaming. I came in because I thought I heard something, but it was you. You were really out of it." His brows drew together in a troubled frown as he looked at her. "Just like this morning. Are you taking sleeping pills?"

Kelsey dropped back to her pillow, her eyes closed for a moment before she looked up at him, shaking her head. "No. I've never taken anything like that. Just a couple of beers tonight before I went to bed, just like you." She seemed to be all right, had calmed down, and Dean relaxed a little. A crooked little smile curved his lips, and Kelsey frowned. "What?"

"You kissed me."

"I did not!"

"The hell you didn't! I came in to wake you up, and you kissed me. And you were into it, too."

She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it and looked away, feeling herself blush. "I - I didn't mean to. I was delirious or something." She couldn't look at him, at the smirk on his face and the warmth in his eyes, she just couldn't.

"You were dreaming about me."

"Was not."

"Yes, you were. Admit it." He ran a finger along her arm, and she jerked it back, hiding it under the covers.

"I'm fine now. You can leave." She turned to her side, her back to him.

He sat there, silent for a moment, and when he spoke, the teasing note was gone from his voice. "Sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

He stood, looking down at her for a moment, then turned to leave the room. He looked back at her form, nearly hidden in the blankets, and smiled. "Sweet dreams," he said as he pulled the door closed, and she pulled the covers over her head.