Author: Lauren.

Rating: Rated M, just in case I continue and it gets saucy (:

Character/Pairing: Haley, Dean, Sam, Dean/Haley

Summary: Trying to live a stable life isn't exactly easy when you have a hunter for a husband. Especially when he's Dean.

Disclaimer: Haley belongs to Mark, Sam and Dean are all Eric's. Storylines are mine.

Author's Note: Yes, yes, this is my 'official' Dean/Haley thing. It's kind of a musing that popped into my head. Hope it doesn't suck. Maybe it's a one shot, maybe it isn't. You tell me.

She could still remember the first day, the first time, the first kiss. How had they got here? With her five-year-old son asleep beside her, believing his Father was a superhero. Believing he was invincible.

If only that were true.

But she'd seen the scars, the scratches, the marks of the Winchester trade. Traced with her fingertips until she knew them so well they could have been a part of her own heart. And she'd been there to rip him apart and put him back together, weaving a needle through his skin and soothing him with alcohol and softly spoken words.

Some days she almost believed that he could have been a dream, and then he'd burst in through the front door, all bluster and stories and she'd be in his arms and she knew it was real. That she couldn't have dreamt it because if she had, she would have made him stay.

Haley had known what she'd been marrying into when she'd said yes to Dean Winchester. As proposals go, his had been pretty awful. Completely unplanned, the words had just tumbled out as they lay twined together one night, her leg stretched across his, tangles of her honey blonde hair on the pillow and her nose pressed into his neck because that was how they always were. She'd thought he was messing with her, one of his stupid jokes that he and no one else (not even his brother) thought were funny.

But he'd been serious and she'd cried and there'd been no ring for weeks until they could finally agree on one. Seeing eye to eye had never been their strong suit.

Hunting was in his blood though and it hadn't been long before he was itching to be on the road again. And she had no one but him to blame for that, he'd dragged Sam from Stanford when John had gone missing. Dean always instigated, and Sam always followed. Sometimes Haley wondered if that was what had happened with them.

But she could hold her own in a fight and she'd told him from the beginning that if he was looking for a wife who'd cook his dinners and sleep in his bed and keep her mouth shut, then he'd chosen the wrong woman. He'd just smiled and said that it hadn't really been a choice for him.

And she'd hated the way he'd so easily charmed her and yes he did get into her pants that night (like he ever didn't.) Damn Dean Winchester and his slow smile and the way his fingers felt on her skin.

But there was plenty she hated about him, things that made her want to actually do the things she always threatened to do during their fights. Usually it involved pliers. Like the way he talked down to his brother, that never failed to make her want to slap him. Or when he'd lie about spending time in those road side bars she knew he frequented on hunts. She could smell the beer and the cigarette smoke and the whores on him a mile off.

And then, once again, he'd pull out a grin and say that she was the only woman he was hot for and then they'd be in bed so fast it made her head spin. She couldn't even believe she'd manage to hold out on him for so long in the beginning. And yet still, hearing the Impala's tyres grind against the gravel drive still set her heart racing and her hands shaking.

Maybe that's what it means to be alive.