"ARRRGH!"

Dean flinched as he entered Bela's apartment to hear her furious scream. The thief, who was currently abusing a shredded heavy bag in her small gym, inhaled deeply, then pounced on the again on the heavy bag, which swung back and forth as she kicked it.

After launching a series of spinning kicks and plain old hooks, Bela wrapped an arm around the bag to steady it, sucking in air as though she'd never breathed before. Sweat streamed down her face and her skin glowed with scarlet exertion.

"Hey."

Her head snapped up, eyes glittering ferociously. And uttered one word.

"You."

Instinctively, Dean began to back away, his hands rising as much to placate her as to defend himself.

Bela's chest was still heaving with both exhaustion and fury, beads of sweat glimmering along her exposed collarbone. Her hands balled into fists and she began stalking closer.

"Hey, easy, I didn't do anyth-"

"Didn't do anything?"

Her voice was cool, deceptively so, Dean thought with equal parts apprehension and fear. Bela continued to approach, moving with the same predatory grace he was so accustomed to.

She suddenly slammed her hand into the wall behind him and Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. "What the hell?"

Bela narrowed her eyes at him and moved closer, close enough for him to smell her shampoo. "You didn't do anything, Dean?"

"Please just tell me what I did, Bela, and I'll fix it."

Bela paused. "You'll fix it?"

"I swear, I'll fix it, whatever it is-"

"Can you fix this?" The thief hissed dangerously, slamming a newspaper into his chest.

Dean stared down at the headline, his brows furrowed. It spoke of a stolen emerald ring, one of infamous supernatural background. He glanced up, bewildered. "So?"

He instantly knew he had made a mistake.

"So?"

"I mean, why are you showing this to me?"

"You don't remember this ring?"

He blinked once, then again. "Am I supposed to?"

The breath whooshed out of her with a hint of a hiss. "This is the ring I was prospecting when you interrupted me."

"What? I don't remember-"

"March. It was rainy and I was wearing navy flats and a white pantsuit. In Lady Eleanor's manor up in Maine-"

Realization suddenly dawned on Dean. "Oh, yeah. I remember." He took another look at the newspaper. "So, this is the ring that got away?"

"Yes. And now, it's been stolen by someone else."

Her fury was beginning to make sense, he thought, apprehension mounting.

"Why means," Bela continued, her tone quickly becoming darker, "Dean, that out there, somewhere off in an opposite corner of the globe, is someone who managed to steal something that I didn't get around to."

"I mean, you would have," Dean tried. "It's just – well, you know. It's just that I was there and it got-"

Fire simmered in her dark eyes.

Dean hastily switched to a different tactic. Softening his expression, he tugged her closer, clasping her hips beneath his hands.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear. "It was a long hunt and I couldn't keep my hands off you."

She inhaled sharply as his lips cruised down her neck. "Wait. What-?"

"I love you," he added for good measure, nuzzling into her neck.

"Stop. This is not getting you out of trouble."

But her hands were already in his hair, Dean noted with a smirk, knowing he had avoided death this time. "I know, you can still be mad at me."

"I am angry with you." Bela struggled to maintain her composure. She had been angry about something, hadn't she?

"Mmmhmm."

"Oh, to hell with it. You'll pay for this tomorrow," she murmured against his mouth.

"I'm counting on it."

A/N: This is dedicated to my marvelous anon reviewer, M, who always comes back to read my Bela/Dean fics. I hope everyone liked this; I thought it was at least somewhat plausible, if a little OOC.

Thanks for reading!