Hey guys! As always, thank you so much for checking out my story. PRETTY PLEASE drop me a review and let me know what you think!

This is a new type of story for me. It's still a crossover between Supernatural and Charmed, but this one is AU. There is no magic, no supernatural beings, no hunters, no witches. Melinda and Dean have had rough lives, and the explanations as to why will come in later chapters. As a bit of backstory, just to set up timeline, this takes place around SPN's Pilot episode, Season 1. Sam's at Stanford, living with Jess and her sister, Melinda. Dean shows up to surprise his brother with a visit. Enjoy. ;)

**Nothing from Charmed or Supernatural belongs to me.**

-ONE-

Melinda threw back her third tequila shot, letting out a shout as she did. Her sister let out a harsh breath beside her, shaking her head as she sat the shot glass down, as Melinda laughed.

"Come on, Jess. Let's do another!"
"Oh no. No way. You need to slow down, Mel."

Melinda rolled her eyes and pushed her blonde hair up into a ponytail. Her bangs fell onto her forehead and she shook them back. Slowing down was not what Melinda Moore needed tonight. She glanced over and smiled when she saw the extremely tall man making his way to their table.

"Sammy! Look here, Jess. It's Sam."
"I see. Hey, baby."

Jess lifted her face as Sam bent down to kiss her. Melinda made gagging noises behind them, making both of them smile. Sam looked over to Melinda as Jess nestled against his side.

"Well, someone seems to be having a good time."
"Know what would make me have a better time? Do shots with me, Sammy. This girl's too boring."

Jess let out a laugh and rolled her eyes. Sam smiled, but shook his head.

"Sorry, Mel. I need to take it easy tonight."

Melinda groaned as she propped her arms up on the table, letting her head fall onto them. Jess bit the inside of her cheek to try to keep from smiling, but it didn't work. Melinda popped back up, pouting. Jess reached over and tapped Melinda's nose.

"Cheer up, buttercup."
"I don't want to cheer up. I don't want to take it easy. We are in college, for Christ's sake, and that means we are supposed to act stupid while we do stupid things. Why won't anyone do stupid things with me?"

Sam and Jess shared a laugh, and he bent to whisper in her ear. Jess smiled, nodding to him, then turning to her sister. Melinda held up a hand.

"Don't say it. Let me guess. Find my own ride home?"
"Do you mind?"

Melinda blew out her breath.

"Fine. Whatever."
"Don't be mad, Mel."

Melinda moved in her chair, facing Jess with her back to Sam.

"Tell the moose I hate him."
"I'm standing right here, Mel."
"Tell Moose I'm not speaking to him."

Jess laughed as she hopped off her barstool. She gave Melinda a kiss on the cheek, then walked out of the bar, Sam's arm around her waist. Melinda sighed, leaving her own barstool to belly up to the bar.

"Hey, can I get another tequila shot and a beer? Bottle of whatever."

An hour later, Melinda was working on her third game of pool. She'd hustled two guys already, and was about to make this poor sucker her third. Everyone in town knew better than to play her, but some unsuspecting tourists, or a drunk-off-his-ass frat boy with something to prove would challenge her, and she'd have to wipe the floor with them. She lined up her last shot, a tricky 8-ball off the wall. Well, it should have been tricky. She had a little smirk on her face as she bent over the table, lining up her shot, when she glanced up.

Across the table, at the bar, smiling at her was a gorgeous hunk of a man. His eyes were locked on hers and he raised his beer to her. She gave him a wink, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach, turning her attention back to the table. She took in a breath and took the shot, feeling as soon as the stick made contact with the ball that it was going in. And it did. Male groans filled the pool area, and Melinda held out a hand as the latest in a long line of losers slapped the money into her hand. She deliberately set the money in her bra, blowing him a kiss before leaning on her pool stick.

"That it? Any other takers?"

People laughed and shook their heads all over the room, until a deep, rumbling voice sounded.

"I'll take some."

Melinda turned around, her ponytail flying over her shoulder. Mr. Handsome from the bar swaggered—yes, he swaggered—over to her. He handed her a beer, laying the required fee on the edge of the table. Melinda took a long swig of the beer, then turned to face him.

"You sure about this, Cowboy?"

He grinned.

"Yeah. Question is, are you?"

Whistles and shouts came from all around them. Melinda smiled, nodding her head.

"Let's put your money where your mouth is, shall we? You can break."

An hour later, they were tied up, one ball apiece and the 8-ball on the table. This guy had surprised Melinda. He knew his pool, and had almost run the table once, before she got the upper hand by flashing him just a little cleavage. She wasn't afraid to play dirty, and when her turn had rolled around, she learned he wasn't either, when he leaned over, whispering in her ear, his hot breath on her skin making her knees wobble. He knocked his last ball in, glancing up to her and she smiled at him. They both knew he didn't have a chance of making this last shot. He set his cue on the ground, draping his hands over it, setting his chin on his hands and looking at her.

"What do you say we up the ante a little bit?"
"Last I checked, we weren't playing poker."

He nodded, tucking his tongue in his cheek as the little crowd that had gathered let out laughs and shouts.

"Okay, okay. Well, why don't we make this a little more interesting?"

Melinda laid a hand on her slender hip.

"I'm listening."

He scratched his chin.

"Double or nothing?"

Melinda rolled her eyes.

"I don't get out of bed for double or nothing."

The crowd laughed again, and this time, he joined them. Melinda felt a little cocky then, something she blames on the alcohol she'd had, and she smiled.

"Plus, we both know you'll never sink this shot, so it doesn't really matter what you bet."

He nodded, taking a few steps until he was right in front of her. She looked into his eyes, and damn. What eyes they were. They were a deep, emerald green, and she could already see herself getting lost in them. He took that moment to speak softly, his voice rolling over her like velvet.

"I sink this, you come home with me."

Melinda was buzzed, and she'd admit to that. She was not drunk. Drunk constituted not being in control of your emotions and therefore yourself, and she had not hit that point. She was in control, fully cognizant of her actions, completely capable of making decisions on her own. She looked Green Eyes up and down, before locking back on his mesmerizing eyes.

"Deal."

The room went silent. The music even stopped playing, because no one was on the dance floor. Everyone was gathered around the pool table, seeing if this big talking stranger could live up to his word against the wild child pool hustler. He backed away from her, taking his spot at the edge of the table. Melinda stepped back, letting out a breath. He lined up his cue, looking up at her, then smiled. He prepped once, twice, then let go on the third. A collective intake of breath sounded around the room as the cue ball rolled slowly down the table. Melinda's eyes widened as the ball tapped the black 8-ball, causing it to roll sideways. She smirked, watching the ball roll to the side of the table, away from the holes, until it seemed to change direction, taking its time before sliding into the corner pocket.

Not a sound was heard in the room. He looked from the table up to Melinda, who was still staring at the 8-ball, nestled safely in the corner pocket. She finally glanced up and met his eyes, seeing the smile on his face. She nodded, laying her stick down.

"You'll have to teach me that one day."

He nodded, making his way to her. The bartender walked over with two tequila shots, handing one to each of them, a kind of ceremonious ending to the game. Melinda held her glass up, nearly touching his. He smiled at her, those green eyes burning into her blue ones.

"You can still back out, you know."

Melinda laughed.

"I don't go back on my bets. You won, so let's get the hell out of here."

He smiled, clinking his glass to hers before they threw back their shots. He slid his beat-up leather jacket over his shoulders, then wrapped an arm around her waist. They walked out of the bar, and he led her to an old, sleek black Chevy.

"This is your car?"

He smiled.

"My baby."
"She's gorgeous."

He opened her door and she slid in, appreciating the scenery. He slid into the driver's seat, starting the car, and Melinda smiled when she heard the engine roar to life.

"Very nice."
"Baby, you ain't seen nothing yet."

She let out a laugh as he drove away from the bar. A few miles down the road, he turned to her with a smile.

"So I've got a little confession to make."

Melinda smiled.

"You kidnap girls like me and keep us chained in your basement?"
"Only on Tuesdays. It's Saturday, so you're in luck."

She let out a laugh as he came to a stop sign. He turned to her, laying his arm across the backseat.

"I'm not from around here."
"You don't say."

He smiled as his head dropped, then lifted it to look at her again.

"Therefore, I don't really have a place to take you, unless you want to find a cheap motel room."

Melinda smiled, moving just a bit closer to him.

"So romantic. I'd tell you to come to my place, but my sister and her boyfriend are there, and it would just … No."

He reached over, running his fingers over the end of her ponytail, his fingers gently brushing against her neck. Her eyes drifted shut, and he watched her, shifting in his seat.

"You know you don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'll take you home."

Melinda opened her eyes. She took a good look at this guy, kind of in awe. Could it be this guy was an actual gentleman? By the softness of his eyes, the smile on his face, she could tell that he was being serious. He wasn't going to make her do anything she didn't want to do, which was a nice breath of fresh air after dealing with the assholes around campus. Melinda smiled, realizing she didn't even know his name.

"I don't want to go home. I don't even know your name, but I want to go with you."

He smiled, leaning over in the seat and taking her mouth with his. Melinda let her eyes drift close. My God, the man knew how to kiss. His tongue slid through her lips and she couldn't help the moan that escaped. She felt him smile against her mouth before he pulled back. He turned back to the road, finally driving through the stop sign as Melinda glanced behind her.

"Or we could just make do with this backseat."

He let out a laugh, then shook his head.

"Oh no. I'm taking you to a bed."

Melinda felt a shiver run down her spine as she moved over, closer to him, letting her hand settle on his thigh. She smiled at his sharp intake of breath, and she leaned up to press a kiss to his neck. He let out a quiet moan and Melinda sat back, keeping her head on his shoulder.

"So… Do I get to know your name? Or is this one of those weirdo anonymous things?"

He laughed, reaching up to grab a handful of her hair before letting it go.

"Dean. I'm Dean."

She nodded.

"Melinda. But everyone calls me Mel."

He nodded, repeating her name as he pulled into the parking lot of—well, he wasn't kidding. A motel. One of those pay-by-the-hour institutions. Melinda sat up, and Dean tried to ignore the empty feeling he felt when she moved away from him. He climbed out of the car, walking around and opening her door, offering a hand to help her out. Melinda took it, smiling and shaking her head.

"Such a gentleman. You could teach the yahoos around here a thing or two."

Dean smiled, keeping hold of her hand, leading her to Room 19. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping on a light and glancing around before he turned to her with a smile. She walked inside, hearing him shut and lock the door behind her. He cleared his throat.

"So, is this going to be one of those we'll get to know each other first things, or—"

His sentence was cut off when Melinda pushed him up against the wall. She smiled, moving in close to him.

"Why don't we just get down to business?"

He smiled.

"We can do that."

She went on her tiptoes, pressing her mouth to his. She moved closer to him as she kissed him, tangling her fingers in his short hair. He reached both hands to her head, holding for just a moment before he gently pulled the band from her ponytail. Her honey-colored hair fell loose to her shoulders, and he plunged his hands into it after slipping the band on his wrist. Melinda let out a yelp when he switched their positions, pressing her against the wall as he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders. He reached up, taking hold of her wrists and pinning them to the wall. Melinda let out a breathy laugh, and he smiled at her as he moved to kiss her neck, pressing his hips into hers. She bit her lip and moaned, trying and failing to move her hands, but rocking her hips with his, both of them groaning at the friction. She felt him smile against her skin before he leaned back to look at her. He lowered his hands, and by some unspoken words, she kept her wrists against the wall. He undid the buttons on her shirt, and she moved to slide it off her arms, leaving her in a bright pink tank top. Dean smiled, reaching behind him to grab a handful of his sweater and pull it over his head. Melinda groaned when she saw his white t-shirt.

"What—"

He couldn't say anything when she launched herself from the wall at him. He caught her easily as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in close, fusing her mouth to his. Dean smiled and bent just a bit, grabbing hold of her legs and hiking her up. She wrapped her legs around him and he carried her to the bed, set her down beside it as he unbuttoned her jeans. She pulled back from him, kicking her shoes off and shimmying out of her pants. Dean did his best not to swallow his tongue as she reached down, crossing her arms as she took hold of the hem of the tank, pulling it over her head, leaving only a pink bra and matching panties on. She moved in closer to him, pulling his head down for a kiss before she moved back, going to sit on the bed.

"Your turn."

Dean smiled, toeing off his boots before reaching back and pulling his t-shirt over his head. He heard, and appreciated, Melinda's gasp, and he smiled as he undid his belt, letting his jeans fall to the floor. He stepped over to the bed and shuddered when she laid a soft, cool hand on his hardened abs.

"Very nice."
"You're not so bad yourself."

His voice was throaty and rough, and Melinda just smiled as she moved back, leaning against the pillows. Dean followed her, catching her mouth as he settled on top of her. She smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair. He kissed down her neck, making her breath catch, before he held her close to him, flipping them over.

Melinda smiled as she sat up, straddling his ripped stomach, flipping her hair back. Dean watched, kind of mesmerized by her. She kept the smile on her face, a smile that made her look as though she had a secret, one just for him. Dean swallowed as she reached behind her, undoing her bra and letting it fall off her arms. He sat up, laying his hands on her breasts, kissing her neck and she groaned. His hands were rough and calloused, and she moaned as he shaped her in his hands. He flipped them again, kissing her mouth before moving down, making her groan his name as he stopped at her chest. She almost missed him hooking his thumbs in her panties, dragging them down her legs, before he fixed his mouth on her. She gripped him tight, tugging on his hair as he smiled, until her arms fell and she gripped the sheets. Somehow the blanket had been pulled back from the bed, and she was now writhing on the cool, cream-colored sheets.

"Holy … shit. Don't—don't stop."

Dean didn't, and Melinda came apart just a few seconds later. He had a smile on his face as he moved back up her body, and she took hold of his face, kissing him long and hard. When they had to pull back for air, she kept her hands on his cheeks.

"Damn. You … Just … Damn."

Dean smiled, moving in to kiss her again. After a second, she pushed him up, into a sitting position, and she moved to her knees. She pushed his shoulders until he laid back, letting her hover over him before she leaned down to kiss him, her hair falling over them, hiding them behind a honey-colored curtain. She pulled back, leaving him breathing hard, and smiled as she moved down his body, kissing his chest, his toned abdomen, rolling her nails down his sides. He sucked in a breath when she did that, and a little giggle escaped her lips. She slid his boxers down before taking him in her mouth. And Jesus, what a mouth she had.

"Jesus Christ, Mel."

Dean was breathing hard, gripping the sheets, groaning before he shook his head, letting out a laugh.

"God damn, Mel. You—you've got to stop. I can't. I can't."

He picked her head up, and she smiled at him. He pulled her back to him, meeting her lips as he laid her down on the pillows. She looked up at him, and he noticed, not for the first time, how incredibly blue her eyes were. She let a hand come up, gently running it over his stubbled cheek.

"Do you have…?"

He nodded, reaching over on the nightstand.

"Thank God."

She let out a sigh of relief and he smiled as he leaned down, pressing their lips together again. He sat up, rolling the condom on, and Melinda pushed her hands in her hair, letting out a breath. Dean came back over her, looking her in the eye.

"You okay?"

Melinda smiled.

"I'm fine."
"You sure?"

She nodded, and Dean relaxed back just a bit. Melinda sighed.

"Dean, how many times do I have to say it?"
"Well, you did have a lot to drink."
"Enough to feel good. Not enough to not realize what I'm doing. I am fully aware of my actions, and I want this, okay? I want you."

Dean smiled and nodded.

"I just want to—"
"Christ Almighty, I did not have you pegged for a talker, but damn if you're not—"

Dean leaned down, silencing Melinda with a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his back, and he slid into her. They both gasped sharply, Melinda digging her nails into his shoulders. Dean rolled his hips, reaching over to grip Melinda's wrist, sliding his hand down to lace his fingers with hers.

"Oh my god."

Her whisper was broken and barely audible. Dean groaned with every thrust, Melinda raising her hips to meet him each time. He shook his head, breathing hard, his chest heaving with every breath he took.

"I … goddamn it, I'm not going to last very … very long."

Melinda nodded, gripping his hand tighter, wrapping her other arm around his neck.

"Ne—neither am I. Oh god."

Melinda tightened her grip on him, letting out breathy gasps and groans as she came, hard. Dean was right there with her, groaning, saying her name as he came with her, just as hard.