I sat down in front of my vanity in my room in the bunker. Hell, I think it was the first time I'd ever sat there. I'd insisted on the vanity, if only to make me feel a little more normal, but I'd never actually used it. What does a hunter need with makeup and hair supplies? When was I ever going to delve back into the part of my past that held my knowledge for blending and hair curling?
Now, apparently. There was a case surprisingly close to us where young (y/h/c) women were disappearing from the local club and turning up days later with the blood drained from their bodies. It was always the same M.O: mid-twenties, (y/h/c), wearing something skimpy and black. I sighed at my reflection. As the only female hunter in close radius and intimately familiar with the case, the boys had come to me to awkwardly propose my role as bait.
"Hey (y/n)," I heard Dean's gruff voice say from my doorway as he leaned against the frame. "Thank you again for doing this. I know how you hate being reminded of your girl-ness." He teased and I stuck my tongue out at him. He smiled and continued, "We should be ready to leave in about an hour, if you will be too. Meet you in the kitchen." My door closed. I smiled to myself as I picked up my now-heated curling iron. Dean had a tendency to be an ass, but underneath it all he was an incredibly kind and selfless person. I'd been living with the boys for almost a year, now. My family had been slaughtered by a couple of werewolves about four years ago. It threw my life upside-down, and to attempt to sever my ties from that life, I went off the grid and became a hunter. I spent my first year training and tracking down the sons of bitches who murdered my family. After that, I was too far in to leave the life. I had been introduced to Bobby Singer, who in turn introduced me to the Winchester brothers. We crossed paths now and again at Bobby's, and when I'd almost been killed on a solo hunt for a djinn, Bobby talked the boys into taking me in. As it turns out, it was a better arrangement than we had expected. The boys and I get along really well. I have the kinda-nerdy intelligence that helps me relate to Sam, and the love for classic rock and cars that helps me relate to Dean. Sam I see as a surrogate brother. Dean, however…Dean is different. There's just something about him that the two of us click on a different level. I'm not sure if he feels it, but I sure do.
I finished up curling my hair and sprayed it with the aerosol hairspray I'd bought for the occasion. It had been a long time since I'd done something with my hair. I'd let it grow out after my family died, not caring enough to keep cutting and styling it. It was past my shoulders now and hit my mid-back. With the length it looked really good with the soft curl I'd put in it, if I did say so myself. Setting the iron aside, I opened my drawer and pulled out the bag I used to store makeup in. Nowadays it was a special occasion for me to put a little mascara on, I wasn't too sure I even remembered what my face looked like all done up. Nevertheless, my contouring abilities returned like muscle memory as soon as I needed them. Ten minutes and my face felt heavier than normal, caked as it was with the makeup. I hopped over to my closet and pulled out the other item I'd bought especially for this occasion: the slinky black dress part of my get-up for the night. It had a low back and ended just below my mid-thigh. I was apprehensive because I'd never been a skinny girl. I wouldn't say I was especially heavy, but there was definitely a self-conscious factor to my looking in the mirror.
Of course, knowing the type of women Dean was more apt to go home with didn't help that fact.
I sighed again and put on the skimpy garment. Turning to look at myself in the mirror, I was pleasantly surprised. I still wasn't skinny, but the years of hunting had toned my legs and the fabric draped perfectly to elongate my torso. I grabbed the red pumps—also specially bought—and slipped them onto my feet to complete the look. I looked myself over in the mirror and tilted my head, considering. It had been a long time since I'd looked even remotely like I looked now. I smiled, gaining confidence, my red-lipped reflection doing the same. Turning, I noticed in the reflection that with the low-cut of the back and the high-cut of the dress, you could see part of my tattoos. I had a twisted oak tree stretching up from my right hip to just under my right breast. Each branch had a name and date on them—one for each of my precious family members. Later, once I'd been a hunter for a while and knew I wasn't going back, I commemorated it by getting the exorcism ritual wrapped around my upper thigh. You could just see "Te Rogamus" sticking out from under the hem of the dress.
This could actually be fun. It'd been years since I'd dressed up and probably longer since I'd gone out to a club. Yes, it was a case, but that didn't mean I couldn't have fun. With any luck I'd get a number or two to wave in Dean's face, I thought with a smirk. At the very least, with the amount of skin I had uncovered, I was assured a free drink or two. Hopefully one of them will be offered by the bastard vampire who was kidnapping women.
Giving myself a final look-over in the mirror, I deemed myself ready to meet the boys and get on with the night. I left my room and walked to the kitchen. I heard them discussing the plan for tonight before I entered the room. Sam was facing me, talking to Dean who was turned and leaning on the table, looking over the newspaper articles of the missing women. As I walked in Sam glanced up and his face lit up in a smile.
"Wow, (y/n)! You clean up good," he complimented. I giggled a 'thank you' as Dean looked up. He slowly straightened as his eyes traveled up my body, pausing briefly at the words peeking out from below my dress, all the way to meet my eyes. His mouth was slightly agape and I quirked an eyebrow.
"Like what you see there, Winchester?" I teased. He cleared his throat and seemed to gather himself back together. His voice seemed a bit rougher than usual when he looked away and said, "You look nice. Are you ready to go gank this bastard?" He turned and grabbed his bag, walking to the stairs without looking back at me or Sam. Sam turned and gave me a knowing wink, which I blushed and rolled my eyes at. Sam was suspicious about my feelings for Dean and he took every opportunity to tease me about them. The damn goliath could be remarkably intuitive, unfortunately.
I grabbed my coat and together with Sam we followed Dean out of the bunker and to the Impala.
Dean seemed to be actively trying to avoid my reflection in the mirror as I sat in the back. I couldn't catch his eye and he barely responded to me when I would speak to him. In truth, it was starting to piss me off. Did I look that cheap to him that he couldn't even look at me? Needless to say, I got out of the car at the club in not as great of a mood as I had been in when I had gotten in.
The boys hung back in the car, parked across the street from the club, while I made my way inside. I barely had to wait in line before the bouncer let me in, although his eyes were on my breasts more than my face. I took a deep breath and reminded myself of the case. It's all for the case. I had a baggy Led Zepplin tshirt and a pair of sweatpants waiting for me back at the bunker.
In total, I was in the club for about two hours. I had a couple guys buying me drinks, so I had a bit of a buzz, but nothing so strong it would cloud my hunter's mind. While it was fun to be flirted and danced with for the first time in ages, I had a job to do. Soon enough, I had the one I wanted. One of the girls behind the bar had pointed out the "gorgeous guy who's been here every night for two weeks and goes home with another girl every night" and soon enough I'd danced and flirted my way over to him. He was dancing on me, with my back to him, and I glanced back at the bar where the chatty bartender gave me a wink and two thumbs up. I smiled politely in return and noted the fact that his face was incredibly close to my throat. I could practically feel him inhaling against my skin. Uncomfortable, and with my hunters instincts going crazy, I spun around. It took him by surprise and to mask the awkwardness of my sudden movement, I suggestively draped my arms around his neck and smiled coyly at him.
He took the hint. "How about you and I get away from here? Go somewhere a little more private?" He suggested, his voice smooth as honey. I nodded and took his hand. We made our way across the dance floor and toward the doors.
Once outside I spun around again and pressed my body up against him. "How about a little foreplay in the alley? I don't think I can wait." I bit my lip at him, cringing inside at the words that had just come out of my mouth. He didn't seem to notice my inner disgust and chuckled. His hands on my hips, he led me into the alley. The way I was turned, I could see Sam and Dean sneaking across the road in our direction. My view was cut brief, however, as I was pushed up against the brick wall of the club.
His voice whispered in my ear as he pressed his body up against me, his hands now on my ass, "What did you have in mind?" I almost blew my cover when I felt his tongue lick up my neck. "mmm…delicious."
I glanced around to see if Sam and Dean were close. They were at the mouth of the alley. Dean's face was twisted into something I wasn't sure what to make of. Their machetes were both out and at the ready. I dropped my head to whisper in the vampire asshole's ear. "Well, first, I thought I'd invite a couple of my friends and have a little party."
He looked up at me, slightly confused an apprehensive. "What friends are these, pet?"
I shoved him away from me. "The hunters who are gonna send your pathetic ass to purgatory." His face barely had time to register shock before it had been sliced from his neck, thanks to Dean's machete.
Sam put a hand on my shoulder. "You okay?"
I nodded. "I will be once I take a shower. I feel dirty." I shivered in emphasis.
Dean harrumphed. I looked at him questioningly. "You done, then? Let's get home. There's a bottle of booze with my name on it." With that, he stalked away to the car.
I turned to Sam. "What's his problem?" I asked, nodding toward Dean's retreating figure. Sam shrugged. "He's been in a bad mood all night. He could barely keep still in the car waiting for you to come out with the vamp. If you ask me, he's jealous." I looked at Sam incredulously.
"Jealous? Of what?"
Sam smiled knowingly and bumped my shoulder. "You'll have to ask him. All I have are my theories." He started walking to the car that Dean had already reached, leaving me to gather myself and high-heel scuttle across the street after the brothers.
An hour later, I was back home in the bunker, showered, makeup free, and in my tshirt and sweats. My hair was drying and lying over my shoulder as I made my way to the kitchen. Sam was in the library, reading or researching god knows what (we had literally just finished a case what could he be possibly researching already?) and Dean had gone straight to his room when we'd gotten back. Opening the fridge, I spotted what was left of the pie I had made the day before. I grabbed two plates and cut a couple thick slices. Grabbing the forks, I carried my peace offering down the hallway toward Dean's room. Once there, balanced one plate on my arm as I knocked on the door.
"Who's there?" a rough voice answered.
"It's me," I replied through the door. "I come bearing pie. Can I come in?"
There was a brief hesitation before he gave a quieter, "sure." I opened the door and transferred my arm-pie back to my hand as I toed the door back shut. Reaching his bed, I held one of the plates out to him and said, "We need to talk."
He took the offered plate and I sat down beside him on the bed. I set my pie on the bed beside me and looked at him. He avoided my eye. "What is going on with you?" I asked. "You've barely even looked at me all night. Did I do something?"
He sighed, "No."
"Will you look me in the eye and tell me no so I know it's not you just avoiding the question and continuing to avoid me? Because it's hard to take that as truth when you can't even look at me." I snapped at him.
He whirled around and suddenly his face was closer to mine than it had ever been. I swallowed nervously. "What do you want me to say? There's nothing wrong, (y/n)."
I stood my ground. "Bullshit." I took a breath. "Sam has a theory…" I stated more nervously. His eyes narrowed.
"Yeah? What has Sam theorized about me this time?" He practically spat.
I stared him in his eyes. "He thinks you're jealous." This visibly took Dean aback. His glare faltered for a fraction of a second before he huffed and stood up, turning away from me, pie abandoned on the nightstand. "…Dean? Is that true? Were you…jealous?" The muscle in his jaw twitched and I stood up from the bed. I put a hand on his shoulder and the tension seemed to melt out of his body.
Without looking at me, he sighed. "I don't know, (y/n). I guess I was. I just…I saw you tonight and how amazing you looked and knowing that you looked like that specifically so other guys could ogle you just made me feel…I don't know, weird. And I know it's weird to hear me say I was jealous because I know you see me the same way you see Sam: like a damaged older brother. The whole time you were in that club all I could think about was the guys in there that would be buying you drinks and dancing with you and it hit me that one of these days you're going to find someone better who can offer you a better life than you have now, hunting and living in the bunker. You deserve so much more than this, and I can't give it to you. And it bothers me. I'm sorry, (y/n)."
My eyes were soft as my hands when I gently turned Dean around to face me. He wouldn't look at my face so I cupped his cheek in my hand, forcing him to meet my eyes. "Dean Winchester. I accepted my calling as a hunter long ago. I lived for years thinking my life would never get better. And then I met you. This year, living here with you, has been one of the best years of my life. I wouldn't have it, or you, any other way." In a moment of intense bravery, I leaned forward and kissed him. Before I could pull away, his hand found its way into my hair, the other wrapping around my waist, as my hands circled the back of his neck. The kiss went from gentle to wildly passionate quickly, my hand tugging at his short locks and his hands on my hips, finding their way under my shirt as he guided me backward toward his bed.
My legs hit the frame and I tumbled onto the bed, bringing Dean down on top of me. Unfortunately, I had forgotten about the pie I had set on his bed, and suddenly understood the uncomfortable smooshing feeling and clumpy wetness on my back. I squealed and jerked up, smacking my forehead on Dean's shoulder. Confused, his eyes widened as he lost his balance and flopped over onto the bed beside me. I rolled over on top of him. We looked at each other briefly, taking in the absurdity of the situation, and both busted out laughing. It had been a long time since either of us had laughed like that, and it felt good.
Leaning backward, I grabbed hold of the hem of my shirt. "Guess that needs a wash, now, too," I said as I pulled it off of me. Balling it up, I threw it toward the door. I turned back to Dean to see his eyes wandering all over my body, his fingers coming up to trace the tree on my side. I smiled at him, which he returned. I leaned down and kissed him again, his hands lightly running along my sides.
"You guys! I think I found another case—" we broke apart as Sam threw open the door to Dean's room, open laptop in hand. He looked away from the laptop at us and stopped, eyes widening. I raised my eyebrows at him and Dean said politely, "That's great Sammy. How's about we discuss it in the morning?"
Sam nodded and started to back out of the room, closing the door as the grin on his face grew wider. "Use a condom!"
The door slammed just before the pillow Dean chucked at Sam hit him in the face. "Bitch!" Dean yelled at the closed door.
A muffled "Jerk!" could be heard from down the hallway.
