Author's note: So, I'm leaving for a vacation, for the whole two amazing weeks! Spain, I'm coming :))) But how could I leave without posting another chapter? I surely couldn't, and here it is.

The next update will be in about 3 weeks or so, give or take a couple of days, but I hope you're gonna be patient. And I also hope you're gonna like this chapter.

Generally, this fic is intended to be about relationship development, secret dreams and sacred wishes. About Dean and Bela getting to know each other - something that they never had good chance for - from the start. My vision of softer side of Dean, which he never reveals in his normal state. And I hope that those of you who like action and fights won't be disappointed too much. Don't hold it against me, please :)) And please tell me what you think because it matters a lot.

Chapter 4

"Bobby, are you here?" Bela called out just in case if his inhospitality was for the strangers only. She wasn't a stranger. Not a complete stranger. "It's Bela." Waited. "And Dean," she added when it occurred to her that she might not be the most welcomed guest in this place. Didn't remember being welcomed anywhere, but, well… what did they call it? Side effects? Right! Very exact definition!

No sound came from inside.

Bela started counting in her mind. Old habit. She used it in the past to learn to control time – vital skill with a job like hers. And it also helped to pretend that she got hold of any situation. Strange, but it never worked when she couldn't fall asleep though, Bela thought. Counting sheep wasn't her salvation from insomnia by the looks of it.

Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen...

Nothing happened.

Oh, no, no, no! It couldn't be happening! Not now! He should be at home! Must be! Where else could he possibly be if not here?! As far as Bela knew, Bobby Singer was some sort of information service for the Winchesters, helped them whenever they needed some help and stayed away from major hunting most of the time. She took it like he retired or something. Probably decided to stay alive for as long as he could. Which made sense of course. She couldn't blame him for that.

"Bobby?" Bela slapped her palm on the door once again.

It didn't seem like he was going to open. It didn't look like anyone was going to open. Still, she wasn't keen on giving up that easily. Chances were he was asleep, so logically it made sense to check on the back door... Oh, who she was kidding? Everything was wrong from the start, so why would it change now? Not bloody likely!

The thought made Bela growl in frustration.

"Nobody's home, I guess," Dean commented. He leaned against the wall, hands tucked lazily in his pockets, and kept watching her manipulations with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

"Thank you, Dean!" Like I haven't noticed it myself!

Perfect! What other bad things were planned for today? Tornado? Broken nail maybe? Bankruptcy of the bank where she was keeping all her money? She wouldn't be surprised, honestly. Had she been wearing heels, she'd definitely break one somewhere along the way, maybe even both. And why wouldn't somebody come out and list them all, so that she was prepared when they started happening?! Thank God she wasn't wearing heels!

No, this was the perfect time to start panicking, Bela thought with irritation.

"What is this place?" Dean questioned and looked into the living room window, which was facing the porch, too. "Who's Bobby?"

"A friend." Of yours.

Bela chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully.

She needed to be a hundred miles away from here in several hours, wearing her best business suite and ready to offer the terms that her buyer would gladly accept. She needed to contact another buyer by tomorrow noon. And she also had to find out what to do with Luke once he was out of jail or wherever he was now, and on her tail, which, she knew, wouldn't be a big problem if he wanted it really bad. Oh, and what was the most exciting – she desperately needed to find a place to stay for a while, at least until she came up with a way to get rid of Luke. Some place where he wouldn't track down her credit card or something.

Bela looked at Dean out of the corner of her eye. He removed himself from the wall and right at the moment was occupying himself with studying half-dead window plants that grew in terracotta pots on the outer windowsills.

She rolled her eyes trying to guess how badly Sam would hurt her if she left his brother here and moved on with her own business. On one hand it was tempting. Feed Dean some stupid story, leave him here to wait for Bobby and inform Sam on whereabouts of his brother whenever he graced her with his phone call. Fair revenge – if this was an appropriate word – for their sudden appearance at her place.

But even before the thought formed fully in her head, Bela knew that it wasn't going to work. Aside from the part where she didn't give a damn about Sam's reaction to her leaving his precious Dean all alone, she didn't feel right about it anyway. Of course, she didn't care much. Why would she? Yeah, they saved her. So what? She hated it that they kept on reminding her about that every time they could. Such gentlemen! And still… She was a bitch and she knew it, and was truthful enough to never deny it. Was even proud of it maybe. Money-driven and self-seeking bitch because – hey! - that was life! But she wasn't a heartless bitch! Dean Winchester was a major pain in her ass ever since they met. Mocks and wits and teases were what Dean considered himself good at. Bela didn't share his opinion. Officially. Lest he would think that she liked him or something. She didn't. Not even a little. Not even anywhere close. But she wasn't a heartless bitch all the same, and she couldn't just leave him alone like that. It was too cruel, even for her. Because the thing was - Bela seriously doubted that had she been in Dean's place – God, save her! – he would leave her. Probably.

Or…?

Whatever! Seriously, why would she care at all? She wouldn't be in this desperate situation if it weren't for the Winchesters in the first place! She'd get her 1.5 million back then, several months ago, and… didn't have any idea about what could possibly happen next but sure as hell she'd have one problem less right now…

And how on Earth was she supposed to make an intelligent decision with such a mess in her head?!

"Dean? Can I have your cell phone for a sec?" She reached her hand out, palm up, waiting for the requested object.

"Why?"

"Because," made a funny face at him. "Just give me the damn thing!"

Dean hemmed when Bela snatched the cell phone unceremoniously from him.

She lowered herself onto the upper step of the porch and started studying its contents. And wasn't it a dream come true? Something she'd pay good money for a couple of weeks ago. It was even better than finding a treasure. More useful surely. She should copy it to her cell phone some time, Bela decided. She checked on missed calls, voice mail and SMS first hoping to find something from Sam. Missed call would do at the moment. Anything! Well, Sam obviously didn't call, at least over the last 24 hours. And, honestly, it didn't look like Sam, Bela thought. Not that she was worried. Surprised, more likely. What the hell was thinking this irresponsible, little…

She sighed to herself, gave Dean a sidelong glance and moved on.

Opened the phone book and… Aha! Wasn't Bela Talbot a lucky girl? Found the whole three phone numbers of Bobby Singer's, compared to two that she had. The third one was unfamiliar to her. Some secret number, she guessed. For the Winchesters only maybe. The thought made her lips curve into a wry smile. Not so bad of an idea, only she'd do it opposite way – have a part of her life closed to the brothers.

Anyway…

Bela dialed the number, hoping… for something, who knew what. For Bobby to answer for example; for something else good. Anything. And her expectations were justified. In a way. Not exactly the way she hoped for though. Another message, but at least an informative one this time: "Hey there! If you dialed this number you know who you're trying to reach. I'm in Kansas at the moment. Be back by the end of the week. Feel free to leave a message. I'll call you back as soon as I'm back to civilization." The end.

The voice was Bobby's, no mistake.

By the end of the week?! But it was only Tuesday today! Tuesday! Not even Thursday! The end of the week in Bobby-speak could mean any time from Friday morning till Sunday evening, which seemed like a whole lifetime ahead. So, it meant that she was stuck with Dean for a while after all! Good news – she found out why Sam decided to drop his brother off at her place. Because Bobby was unavailable. But wait! What was so good about that?! This knowledge didn't make her feel better.

Bela stared down the driveway but generally into nowhere. It felt strange. As if something sucked all the thoughts out of her head and left nothing but vacuum in there. No bright ideas. Not even one little decent hint.

"What?" She asked Dean when he lowered himself next to her.

He looked somewhere past her car, too. And then, "Well, um… if this guy Bobby, whoever he is, is not at home and if you're finished here… What do you say if we go somewhere and grab some coffee?" And looked expectedly at her.

"Coffee?" Bela blinked at him. Thought somewhat belatedly that it might look quite dumb from Dean's point of view. Reminded herself that she should probably get used to Dean being not quite Dean, but still pretty much Dean all the same. Oh, it was complicated!

But, well, now that her initial plan, which involved some serious help, or at least assistance, failed and she didn't have a better one so far, she was in the starting point once again. If not a step back, Bela thought rather gloomily. And that meant that anything would do at the moment. And coffee was no so bad idea after all.

--

They had no problem with finding a diner in the town. The one they dropped in was decorated in the 60s-style. It was cozy with its white lace drapes on the windows, red-and-white checked table-cloths on wooden – not plastic! - tables, soft leather settees and this special smell of fresh coffee and crispy waffles with maple syrup topping. It looked cute, homey in a way. A place where one would like to come for breakfast every once in a while, and wouldn't be surprised to meet their friends or neighbors sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee and a morning newspaper. Definitely a place to share or learn new gossips, find out some local news, or just have a lazy meaningless chat about the weather.

The diner wasn't overcrowded at this time of the day, but wasn't empty either. It felt like this particular diner had a steady flow of clients from early morning till late in the evening, both locals and tourists. A couple of men at the counter and a bunch of teens at the table in the corner were enough to create a background noise that characterized all similar places. Never-ending chatter. And even considering that Dean winced a little bit at the sound of music coming out of jukebox, which Bela failed to identify at once, she liked the place anyway, to some degree. It wasn't exactly her kind of place, but rumors were that the pancakes served in such diners were a lot tastier than any exquisite dish in her favorite restaurant in Manhattan.

She couldn't say that for sure because the last time she'd been in a diner was…The memory made Bela wish to giggle right away. The last time she'd been in a diner, she was serving coffee to the Winchesters. A hell of a coincidence indeed!

Bela threw a surreptitious look at Dean who snatched a laminated menu card from the holder on the table the moment he sank into the settee and right now was studying it thoroughly with an overly serious expression. Oh, she wished he did remember! Wished she could remind him about that and see how his face changed… That was real fun back then! So much easier than she could have ever expected! Well, on the other hand it was good that Dean didn't remember that. Less threat to her health and life.

"King-size burger with double cheese," Dean read aloud. "How does that sound to you?"

Bela looked at him over her own menu, hemmed and left his question unanswered.

With breakfast still being not yet in the past and after Luke's attack her stomach kept on clenching uncomfortably and she couldn't help but wonder how Dean managed to even think about anything food-related at all. She sighed. What did she expect? But she buried her face into the menu all the same in order to occupy herself somehow.

"Chose anything?"

Both jerked their heads up at the sound of the voice.

Dean's face lit up immediately with that boyish smile of his, which revealed those charming dimples on his cheeks. These very dimples, which all female species from 5 to 70 were falling for without a second thought. He knew about it – must have! – and used it shamelessly whenever he could. And hadn't the waitress been plump and old enough to be Dean's mother, and hadn't she been wearing this absolutely ridiculous apron with strawberries, Bela would have found it offensive. Insulting even!

"Royal Burger, please," he drawled looking at - what was there written on the badge? Gladys? - with absolute adoration. "This double cheese offer of yours sounds like yummy!"

"It is indeed!" She assured him. "Royal Burger and…?"

"And coffee. Black. No sugar." Which sounded very much like I'm sugary sweet enough myself to compensate it.

"One Royal Burger," she scribbled in her notebook and beamed back. "And American coffee. Ma'am?"

And Bela saw that the waitress tried to save the smile when she turned to her. She really did. But it wasn't the same smile as the one she gave to Dean moment before, and it made Bela scowl inwardly and grit her teeth in frustration. Although she mustered some resemblance of a smile in return, which probably looked more like an evil grin, had there been any chance that it reflected her feelings.

"Just coffee. With cream. Thank you!"

The woman – Gladys – nodded. She and Dean exchanged their stupid secret smile again – like they knew something that Bela didn't – before she left, and Bela had to resist a wish to kick him under the table. Accidentally! Or maybe not even so accidentally. And ask innocently if the two of them would like her to leave them alone, or something.

And what the hell was that?!

Bela snorted to herself, gave Dean another burning look and got back to studying the menu again, like there was something that could interest her at all. Why would she care if their waitress was young and blonde and resembled Pamela Anderson? She wasn't, but still! It was none of her business! Even if Dean decided to flirt with every single waitress on the way. Like she gave a damn! She surely did not! And this dissatisfaction and grouchy mood was surely caused by her rather lousy morning, and night, to tell the truth. And by the fact that she was stuck with one of the hunters for who knew how long. With one of the Winchesters – feel the difference! Nothing more than that. It wasn't jealousy or something else ridiculous, for sure! No way on Earth!

"You might as well picked something," Dean said after a while.

"I'll pass this time, thank you." She met his gaze, held it for a couple of seconds, and disappeared behind the menu again. And – ugh! – it was so childish!

"What are we going to do now?"

We. Oh, Lord, now there was we between her and Dean Winchester!

"We'll wait for your brother to show up." Bela tried to keep her voice calm and speak patiently. It was not that hard to pretend that Dean was like some five-year old indeed. Speaking of mental development…

"Here?"

Good point! It was highly doubtful they could spend a week in the diner of some long godforsaken town, even if Gladys served them pancakes for free. Bela shook her head in order to clear her thoughts and refused to even fear that it would take Sam so long to find cure for his brother's amnesia. She could make a phone call or two, too, of course. Check if she managed to come up with something faster herself…

But she wouldn't! Because Dean wasn't her brother and his amnesia wasn't her problem. Why would she make it easy for them, anyway? Besides, she was curious where all this might lead in the end. She'd prefer to be a side observer, truth be told. But no one bothered to ask her opinion on the matter.

"A-a-and, here it is…" Gladys appeared at their table once again. "One Royal Burger," she put a plate before Dean, and it became clear at once that when they said King-size, they meant it! Damn burger seemed to be nearly as big as the plate it was lying on. Bela wondered how they managed to add those fries there, too, and even make them hold somehow. Wished she could check if they were glued or something, and missed the moment when her own cup of coffee was placed before her. "And two coffees." Gladys looked at the table with satisfaction, like some Mommy who cared for her kids to be well-nourished. Well-stuffed, by the looks of Dean's early lunch. "Bon appetite!"

Dean followed her with his gaze until she disappeared in the kitchen behind the counter, and then caught Bela's look at his plate.

"Now I bet you've gotta regret you didn't order something like that!" He commented, all self-satisfaction, and gave his burger a long appraising look. Definitely liked what he saw.

"You can't eat all of that. No one can!" Bela snorted, and then, following some impulse, grabbed a couple of fries from his plate. It was the smell that seduced her, she decided.

"Hey!"

"Manners, Dean!" Looked reproachfully at him. "Don't make Gladys comment on your behavior," pointed out with mock seriousness. "What would she say if your girl starved to death?"

"You said you weren't my girl," he reminded around a mouthful of a king-size bite.

"I didn't," Bela objected. Grabbed some more fries and finally checked on her coffee, which surprisingly turned out to be more than good. Almost perfect, she'd even say. Fine taste and – Mmm! – killing smell. It made her feel better. "I didn't say anything specific actually. I'm too insulted by you forgetting me to say anything."

"It wasn't my fault," he shrugged.

"Whatever! Give me the ketchup," she ordered, and then, "would you, please?"

"My pleasure!" Dean drawled on his best smile.

And Bela had to do her best to keep her own smile to herself. Made a sip of her coffee, lest he would see her lips stretching against her will.

If Dean noticed something, he didn't show it. Thank God!

Anyway… It was right about time to make some decision, now that she was in charge. Kind of. The thought made her cringe all the same. She was responsible for Dean Winchester! Oh, Lord, it was the most ridiculous thing that could have ever happened to her! The most ridiculous thing to even think about.

But first things first! She moved tissue holder and pepper pot aside, took out the map that she found forgotten on the back seat of her car and unfolded it under Dean's curious gaze. He even seemed to forget for half of a second about his burger, Bela noticed with a smirk. She found New-York and traced a rout they had made with her finger, and stared thoughtfully at the name of the town they were in at the moment. Was relieved to find it one the map at all.

And then…

Bright idea came unexpectedly but seemed so logical and clear, as if it was a light bulb and somebody pulled a sting to turn it on. Like in some stupid cartoon, Bela decided all of a sudden, and nearly giggled at the strange comparison. Baneful influence of communication with Dean Winchester for more than thirty minutes. Well, it was probably Luke who pushed her to the thought in the first place. But it didn't really matter now.

Bela looked at Dean out of the corner of her eye. He'd kill her. Maybe. But it was so damn tempting…

She wanted to check on John Winchester's container with mojo stuff in Buffalo ever since one of the guys she'd hired to retrieve that rabbit's foot for her called and asked which of the boxes she needed. He said there were at least half a dozen of them. With all kinds of very valuable things, Bela understood back then. Otherwise no one would bother to keep them there, securely locked and guarded. Half a dozen! Which might mean one to six millions of income, approximately. Actually, she needed one thing only now. Could take one thing only with Dean around, to be exact. The thing that would make Luke leave her alone. But she'd like to have a look at the rest, too, to know what she'd have to come for later. Unsuspected. Or send somebody for.

And – hey! - they couldn't go back to her place now anyway. Luke would check it in the first place once he was out. If he hadn't already been. And there still were no news from Sam so far. So, theoretically speaking, this plan was as good as any other. At least this one was useful, lest she would waste her time for nothing while Sam was entertaining himself with research or… whatever else he could possibly entertain himself with now that he was free from Dean's company.

The prospect cheered Bela up, made her even look with hope into the future, which now seemed a tad brighter than five minutes ago. She even smiled the smile when Gladys came to their table again to ask if they wanted to order something else.

"No, thank you. The bill, please," Bela answered for the both of them before Dean even had a chance to open his mouth, and realized somewhat irritably that she would probably have to pay for the both of them all the way thought this little adventure. Reminded herself to demand ever cent from Sam in the end and felt better.

Dean surprised her though by fishing the wallet out of the pocket of his jacket. But then it was just a diner, a place that even the Dean could probably afford, even on the worst of his days. Although Bela doubted that the Dean would gladly accept it with her around. He would most likely start whining in that inelegant manner of his about her welfare, which was essentially better than his, ever, and try to wiggle out of footing the bill, one way or another. This Dean wasn't the Dean, and that made Bela feel good and bad at the same time.

"Who do you think Chuck Lawrence is?" Dean asked all of a sudden.

"Who?" Bela snapped her head up and saw him studying one of the credit cards. She took it from him and her lips twisted into a sly grin on the will of their own. "That's you, I guess," she replying giving the card back to him, her eyebrows arched expressively.

Dean blinked at her. "What?" Looked at the card and then at Bela again. "I thought my name was Dean Winchester."

"It is."

"Then, how can you explain…?" He didn't need to finish the sentence for her to get it.

"It's a long story," she said with you-surely-don't-wanna-know-the-details expression on her face.

"And pretty criminal by the looks of it," Dean chuckled and tapped the card on the table. Looked at it again and gave Bela a cheeky smile.

"Why, aren't you a smart guy!" She drawled, and added. "Don't worry, it will probably gonna work if you use it."

"Using cash seems somehow safer right now," he snorted and dug into the wallet once again, studying its contents with interest. Bela stole a quick look into it, too. Registered at lest five other credit cards and wondered if at least one of them had Dean Winchester carved on the plastic surface. "Hey, Bela, check this out!" Dean caught her attention by handing her a small, wallet-sized photo.

Bela took it and felt her lips forming into a smile against herself the next moment she laid her eyes on the image. Crazy-looking Dean and Sam in the cabin of automatic photo, 4 for one dollar. They probably made this picture somewhere on one of numerous gas stations they'd been passing through some time in the past. Sam was laughing and his hand was rumpling his brother's hair. And Dean made a funny face with his eyes popping out of his scull and his tongue stuck out. They looked so childish… so unexpectedly happy. Laughing. Bela could almost hear the sound in her head. She had never seen them looking anywhere close to this picture. Never. Didn't even think they could, with Sam always being so serious and Dean so unreasonably grouchy every time they ran into each other.

She shook her head feeling something warm forming in the pit of her stomach. Some unexpected tenderness maybe, or something very close to it. Didn't expect to see that part of the inside life of the Winchesters. Didn't expect it to be… like that. So strangely… normal. Bela tried to block it out and yet couldn't help but think about how everything would be for the Winchesters if their mother didn't die the way she did. If they never came across anything supernatural in their lives. Sam would become a lawyer, of course. It was so easy to see him in her mind's eye dressed in expensive black suite and surrounded by serious colleagues. He'd have an imposing car, cozy two-storied house in a suburb, beautiful wife and a couple of cute kids. And maybe a golden retriever named Sparky.

And Dean… Um, Dean would be… Damn, it was impossible to even imagine Dean being anyone but who he was how! Maybe it would be easier if Bela didn't know about monsters herself. But she did, and it was kind of changing her vision of the world in general and Dean's role in it in particular. That's why thinking of Dean Winchester having a house and a job 9 to 5 made her wish to laugh out loud hysterically. And also made her wonder how he was seeing his normal life, if he even dared to think about it at all. Well, he probably did. And kept this stupid picture in his wallet as a reminder that he and Sam were not some sort of monster-killing robots or something.

"Bloody hunters," she muttered under her breath, which actually came out as a whoosh before she realized what she was saying. And the next moment she was praying in her mind for Dean to miss it. He didn't though.

"Hunters?" Peered curiously at her, his head inclined slightly to his shoulder. "What do you mean? Sam and I… we…?" He blinked. "Are you serious?" And Bela could have sworn that she'd never heard him sounding so skeptical before.

She swallowed feeling rather confused. You can do it, Bela. You can. And watch you mouth next time!

"Yeah," she flashed a smile at him and handed the pictured back. "For rare species." Which was very close to the truth and hence didn't require pretending. "Sort of. Um… kinda weird hobby of yours."

"Really?" Peered at the picture again, more intensely this time. "Wow! That sounds so… so freaking awesome, you know." Gave Bela a quick look and got back to studying the photo right away, smiling despite himself. "Which makes me wonder how did we meet?"

"You and your brother?"

Dean raised his gaze to meet hers.

"You and me."

Bela made an effective pause to heat his imagination and impatience, and gave him a long and meaningful look through her eyelashes accompanied by a cat-like smile. "I was for Green Peace."

Dean grinned at her, all Do I look like some damn fool to believe that crap?

"So," she slapped her palm on the table, voice all business, "what do you say if we have a ride to Buffalo?"

"Since I don't' have any idea what the hell you're talking about and where this Buffalo is, I don't care," Dean shrugged. He stuffed the credit card and a photo back into his wallet and put it into his pocket. Looked somewhat regretfully at his empty plate but took the end of lunch with manful dignity. "Not that I have any other plans anyway."

--

"We are lost!" Bela stated and pursed her lips with a dark frown.

"We are definitely not!" Dean objected immediately, without a second's hesitation.

"Yes, we are!"

"No, we are not!"

"Dean!"

"Jesus!" He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. Gave her a quick displeased look. "What on Earth makes you think we're lost?"

"We haven't seen a single gas station, or a motel, or… or a road sign for over 60 miles already!" She snapped out. "That's not right!" Paused for a moment. "You shouldn't have turned to that road in the first place," grouched pointedly and folded her arms on the chest.

"What?!" Dean gasped in indignation and nearly let go off the steering wheel for a moment. "It was your idea to turn!"

"No, it wasn't!" Bela whipped her head round, eyes flaring.

"Yes, it was!"

"No! It. Was. Not!"

"You told to turn off the motorway," Dean reminded her. "Remember?"

"I said that maybe it wasn't a bad idea to take a short cut," she specified, all dignity, as if the difference was fundamental. And tipped her chin high in self-assurance.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying," he agreed.

"No! I gave you an advice, but you're the driver, right? Which was your idea, by the way. You might as well ignore it and keep moving on."

"No kidding?" Dean chuckled, genuinely amused. "Oh, the road is lo-o-ong, and driving is so bo-o-oring. And the car is so hot, and yet so co-o-old! And, hey, did the time stop?" He mimicked her in a high-pitched girlish voice.

Bela jumped on her seat.

"I never talked like that!"

"Oh, yeah, tell me that!" He scoffed. "I'd ignore you and you'd bite my head off!"

"Don't flatter yourself!"

"Or keep on whining for miles," added thoughtfully, as if considering what would be worse.

"I never whine," she hissed.

"Well, I didn't want to push my luck anyway," he returned in exactly the same voice.

Bela clenched her teeth, insulted to the core and snatched poorly abandoned map from the dashboard, fully intended to blame everything on Dean and his stupid natural inability to navigate. Being lost somewhere in the middle of the night wasn't her idea of fun. Thanks a lot, but no! She buried her face into the crazy intertwining of red, green, yellow and blue lines, symbolizing everything from highways to country roads, and tried to define their position at the moment.

"We should have passed a dozen turns at least by now," she mumbled in grouchy voice at last. "Have you seen any?"

"Hey, I was following your directions!"

"Yeah? And what if I asked you to drive off the cliff or into the tree? Would you follow my directions, too?"

"Is that a warning?" Dean smirked. "Should I beware of something like that?" Bela gave him a heavy look. It was way beneath her dignity to react to such offensive supposition, one way or another. "Whatever," he muttered in the end. "Anyway, it's just a road! It will lead us somewhere… sometime."

"Oh, and where does this optimism come from?" Bela snorted with obvious sarcasm.

She made herself comfortable on the seat, wrapped her arms around her shoulders and started of the windshield at the seemingly endless road swearing to God not to say another word for another hundred miles. At this rate they might make it to Buffalo alive. In silence, total and absolute silence. Music was allowed though. Her music! She didn't care about Dean's preferences at the moment. He might as well go to hell with his likes and dislikes. It was her car and…

And her car suddenly slowed its speed down on terrible coughing sounds and stopped with a jerk at the roadside in what seemed to be the darkest part of the damn road for miles. A dim streetlamp ahead of them was too remote – about half of a mile from where they stopped – to be of any use at all, and the one that they left below the kink was not visible at all, leaving impenetrable darkness all around them. The engine died out even before the car stilled, together with headlights, and radio, and who knew what else.

"What's going on?" Bela frowned anxiously, shivered uncomfortably.

She wasn't going to talk to Dean any time soon. Surely wasn't intended on breaking the silence first, but it was that case when there seemed to be no other choice.

"No idea," Dean muttered and then turned to her. "When was the last time you filled up the tank?"

To be continued…

PS A/N: Maybe it is a lousy promo, but in addition to the story I also uploaded my new Dean/Bela video. You can check it out here /watch?vSg96Rb6I3zc if you want

:)):))