She had been traveling with the Winchester brothers for some time now, and it was nice. At times. Other times it was hell (ha.)

"How long have you been hangin' around Princess?" Dean asked one day, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Uh…going on four years now I think." She answered. Dean smiled easily at her.

"And in that time how often have we gone a vacation."

"Never." She responded moving from her seat at the table. They were in the bunker's library doing some light research for a couple different cases Sam and picked up.

"How would you like a vacation?"

She stopped just as she was about to put the book back on the shelf. She narrowed her eyes, unsure whether to believe the slightly older male or not.

"You serious?"

"Yeah just me and you."

Now that's where she had to pause and think. It wasn't like she was blind to Dean's charm (for fucks sakes she'd been with the man 24/7 for the last four years of her life) and it was no contest that he was handsome. They had spent a lot of time over the years sitting together in bars getting drunk and getting to know each other. She would call Dean her best friend…if she actually had friends anymore to compare him to.

"Dean-"

"Now don't worry your pretty little head Princess; I ain't trying to get in your pants. Have you looked at you lately?"

She openly glared at him now. "Winchester, Winchester, Winchester. Is it just me…or have you started to get soft 'round the middle there?"

Dean pursed his lips, looking down at his hands folded in his lap, nodding. "You win this round Princess."

"I win all the rounds Winchester."

"So what do you say?"

"Do we even have the time, or money, for a vacation? I thought we were working on two different hunts here."

"Exactly. I was thinkin' we'd split up. Me and you take the salt and burn in Cali, and Cas and Sam take the werewolf in Mississpi."

She raised an eyebrow. "So what? We take care of the salt and burn, and just…chill for a bit?"

"Exactly."

"You wanna spend an entire week, with just me? No Sam around to act as a buffer?"

"Just you and me, Princess."

She put the book back on the shelf, her back to Dean.

"So whattaya say?"

She smiled at Dean. "Why not? Could be fun."

"Okay, that one chick back in uh… oh God… the one who kinda looked like me?"

"Still on one to ten here?"

"Yeah."

"Twenty."

She whistled low. To pass the time on long car rides, while Sam slept in the back, they would talk about past conquests, rating them.

"You got a good look at her, what would you have given her?"

"Well ten cause she looked like me and, c'mon. Have you looked at me?" She grinned, trying not to laugh at her own joke. "But she looked kinda… not all with it you feel? So like a six."

"You are one harsh grader. I'm scared to think what I'd rate on your list."

"Oh I dunno. Probably high."

"Yeah?" Dean grinned, cocky as he always did when he flirted, but she knew better than to think he was flirting with her. "Why's that?"

She looked away and shrugged. There were a lot of things she could tell Dean but… emotions just weren't her strong suit. And like Dean she hid them behind a mask of sarcasm, feigned contentment, and alcohol.

"Aw, C'mon Princess! You can tell me! Is it the pouty lips?" Dean looked away from the road to purse him lips theatrically at her, eliciting a loud raucous laughter that he joined in. "Or is it the eyes. All the ladies say I have pretty green eyes."

"I've got green eyes too asshat, their not that special."

"Then what is it?"

Dean would never be one to admit something like this but years of being with someone like her, she had started to grow on him. Originally he tried to bed her every chance he could (that's just what he did, and come on how could any dude say no to this chick?) but after a while he just realized that wasn't what he wanted. She was funny, smart, and she listened to him when he couldn't turn to anyone else. Now he would never use that word but…it was damn close. He cared about her, he worried about her. And she did the same for him.

She bit her lip, speaking only loud enough to be heard over the wind from the open windows, and the sound of Led Zepplin playing quietly in the background. "Cause I got a weak spot for you Dean."

Dean hadn't been expecting that. If he was honest he thought that if he ever told her how he felt, she'd just run away. Because that's what people did. If he showed even the slightest bit of giving a damn about someone, they always left him. No exceptions. He left people before they could leave him-it hurt less that way. But he was selfish, and he wanted to keep her around as long as he could.

"Dean?"

"Me too."

"What?"

"I've…got a weak spot for you too."

"I thought you weren't going to try and get in my pants on this trip asshole!" She tried to laugh, but it came out strained and forced, trying to (unsuccessfully) ease the tension in the Impala.

He looked at her then. Straight in the eye, determination and…something softer in his gaze. She wouldn't call it love-love was too much. Too real. If they allowed themselves to love then they were only going to be burned by it. What they felt for each other was already too much of a liability. Especially in their line of work.

"I'm serious. I-I care about you." And fuck, that had to be the most difficult thing he's ever had to say to anyone. She looked away, unsure of what she was supposed to say to that. Because every failed relationship said this is where she always fucked up. "I love you" one boyfriend had said, his tone hopeful and expectant, "That's…nice. Thank you." She had replied, her tone unsure, and unwilling. A week later and the relationship was over.

"I…I feel the same way." She answered honestly. This was probably the only alone time they would ever really get together-so it was best to make it count, and just say what needed to be said. Dean glanced away from the road again briefly, to give her a smile-which she returned. Dean returned his eyes to the road, slowly he sought out her hand, lacing their fingers. She jerked her hand away.

"Dude, aw, c'mon. No chick flick moments; I swear to God all this sappy shit's gonna make me puke."

Dean barked out a laugh. "You want me to pullover? I think I need to puke too-there's too much nice in here."

"I can fix that. You're fat and you fuck whores." She grinned at him, wide and toothy.

"Yeah well, you look like shit all the time and I'm amazed you can even get a guy."

"I just got you didn't I?"

Dean pursed his lips and looked out the window.

"Admit it Winchester-you planned this entire trip just to get in my pants."

He smiled, shaking his head. "You got me Princess. You got me long as you want me."