Perspective switch! I like the idea of knowing what each party is thinking throughout the events of some stories. I think it can get you invested in the romance element to see the perspective of both parties and how they can align.

Dean watched Beatrice get up and leave.

She seemed caught up in herself and if getting dressed up made her feel better then so be it. Perhaps he shouldn't have made that beautiful comment. But he wasn't going to regret it.

Letting his mind wander back over the day, he smiled. Damn, what a good hunt.

Just the right amount of intrigue and danger to make a case interesting with a final take out that ended up being a piece of pie thanks to the vamps being genuine dumbasses and Sam and Bee being a fricking awesome pair of hunters. The both of them are absolute nerds but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Not that their combined nerdiness and love of obscure books was a bad thing - as a team they'd never been so prepared. There was hardly a case in the last few months that had gone south because the research and interviewing had been so damn good.

When Dean and Sam first met Beatrice they'd thought she was just some kid with a vendetta, it was kinda how people got into this line of work if it wasn't in the family. But it turns out she was just savvy. She'd noticed odd things around her county, looked into them and figured it out from there. By herself.

A rookie hunter for seven years and she was still alive and kicking. And it hadn't jaded her. She took in her stride. Not to say that the poltergeist that seriously injured a kid and his mom on their watch hadn't got to her. They lived and that was thanks to them, but they all knew it was too close.

He'd watched her carefully mourn for them, mourn for what could have been and what actually was, but she carefully kept the dark blanket of self-blame away. She put her negative energy into being a better hunter. It was amazing to watch. He envied her.

So now they were in a busy bar on a Saturday night. Sam had got caught up in some little black-haired cutie. Sam rarely did the one night stand thing so he'd winked at him and left them to it. Happy until he realised Bee was still sat in the booth by herself. And now he felt like a bit of dick.

He hadn't gone back over straight away but he watched her from the bar for a bit. It was his guilty pleasure, seeing her as her natural self. She'd been sipping her drink and pretty much ignoring the room, doing her introverted thing again, her dark hair half covering her face.

He'd noticed how she moved awkwardly at times. Self-conscious of what her clothes were doing, readjusting them. Folding her arms across her stomach and chest. It saddened him whenever she did it, to know that Bee, the sparky, super-intelligent, strong as fuck (in body and mind) hunter didn't feel comfortable in her own skin. That her idea of herself was so negative when she was so remarkable.

He didn't get it. Beatrice was cute, "adorkable" as he'd called her, but she was also really fucking hot. She was all curves and softness to look at, but he bet she was solid to hold. That her ass was firm with a little shake and her thighs had cute little dimples on the side and a mesmerising jiggle when she moved. And those breasts. Well, there were some things that even high neck t-shirts couldn't leave to the imagination.

It wasn't just that though. She had these stupidly big, dark brown eyes that showed everything she was thinking and feeling. When she was being a dork and making crappy jokes about sci-fi or when she was telling you her latest theory on witches or rougarous they lit up with happiness or excitement and it was mesmerising.

He moved back into the booth and sipped on his beer.

Bee was something he'd been having a lot of trouble with lately. He liked her, he wanted her. He knew that he had a thing for her within two minutes of meeting her even if he was quick to judge. He and Sam decided to work with her a handful of times, and then a handful became every other case, and then she was just always there. And that initial attraction had become a low, nervous hum that existed through every part of his day, because the more he was around her the more he liked her. The more he cared for her and more her smile, and her odd facts, and the swing in her hips when she walked, wore away at his resolve to not make a move. All he wanted to do was give in and kiss her until she moaned and pushed herself against him.

The watching thing was something he'd had control over. He wasn't even the first to notice he was doing it. Sam had pointed out that watching someone walk out of the room that often with that much intensity could maybe be misinterpreted. Then the giant, floppy-haired idiot had smiled his dumb understanding smile and not said anything again. He began to suspect that Cas and his angel staring habit had something to do with it. Maybe made him less afraid to hold eye contact with people in general.

He did really well at stopping himself from watching her at first. He was really careful about quiet times alone that could easily get intense. He kept his hands to himself and it was going fine. At least until Bee started to notice.

She shut it down nearly every time, with a joke or a random fact. He'd taken it to mean she wasn't interested but having her stare back at him with those deep brown eyes that handful of times was addictive, so he hadn't stopped. And each time it happened, and each time she noticed, the connection lasted just that bit longer. And the jokes were a little bit more flustered. And it gave him just a little bit more hope.

He really hoped she wanted to take a chance on the wreck of Dean Winchester. That Beatrice, the one woman who'd made him feel like he could be a normal guy, wanted the same. Wanted to take the biggest risk hunters ever took and maybe fall for him like he definitely would for her. If she could handle all his dark, fucked up mental baggage, that is.

He ran his hand over his face and sighed. Way to be a coward, able to fight a nest of vamps but you can't even tell a girl how you feel.