A few weeks passed after my drunken night. It was Thursday morning, and I was getting ready for work. I grabbed my keys and purse, and headed out the door. I locked up and began walking toward my car when something in the corner of my eye grabbed my attention. I looked up to see a black Impala parked on the street. Dean was leaning against the passenger door.

When we made eye contact he straightened up and took just a few steps forward, as if waiting for me to make the next move. I was frozen to the spot, my mind completely blank. I just stared at him until he finally spoke.

"Hey, Becca."

When the sound of his voice finally registered, I walked toward him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you."

"I'm on my way to work."

"Okay. What time do you get off?"

"Five. Are you and Sam in a motel nearby?"

"No, actually. I guess if I wait I'll have to get a room."

I hesitated. Did I really want to open the door to this man again, in any way? If I was smart, I'd ask him to leave. But who said I was smart? I found my house key and began removing it from my key ring.

"Here... Let yourself in and hang out. Help yourself to the kitchen. I'll get back as soon as I can."

Dean lifted his hands in the air. "I don't have to. I can get a room..."

"Just take it. I'm gonna be late."

"Okay," he said, taking the key.

I drove off as he let himself in the house. The day went by horribly slow, and my focus wasn't there at all. When I finally got home, I reached for my key out of habit, almost panicking when I couldn't find it, then I remembered I gave it to Dean. I tried the door. Unlocked.

He stood from the sofa as I walked in and put my purse on the table by the door.

"Hey," he said. He picked up the remote and turned off the television.

I really didn't want to beat around the bush. "What do you need to talk to me about, Dean?" I took a few steps toward him as he walked behind the sofa toward me. He stopped so that we were just out of reach of each other.

"I have a question first," he said.

"Okay."

"Are you with anyone? Seeing anyone, I mean?"

"As in dating?"

"Yeah."

I hesitated, wondering why it mattered. "No, I'm not."

"Good." Before I even realized what was happening, his hand was in my hair and his lips were on mine. My brain was yelling at me to protest, to pull away, but it felt so right. My hands went to his face, and I felt him smile.

"I missed you," he said, then his lips were back on me. But it was enough to break the spell, and my senses came back.

"Wait," I said, forcing myself to pull away from him completely. I turned around, trying to compose myself. "Nothing's changed." I turned to face him again. "I meant what I said, Dean."

"I know you did, but you're wrong... something has changed. That's what I wanna talk to you about."

"So... talk."

"This could take a while. Can we sit?"

I nodded and walked to the sofa. He sat close, but not too close.

"My brother told me a while back that I became a complete ass after I walked away from you. Looking back, I know he was right. I was miserable... And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was happy before, just knowing I would be seeing you soon."

He looked at me, as if expecting me to say something, but I remained quiet, so he continued.

"I felt like I couldn't give up the life I had before, but... me and Sam... we finished up a really big job, and it took a lot out of both of us. We took some time off, and Sam told me he was going back to college. He said the reason he was finally doing it, is because he knows that there's something I want now... more than the life we'd been living."

"And what's that?"

"You. I told him he was nuts. Told myself he was wrong. I don't know why I was fighting it so hard."

"So... is he right?"

"Yeah, he's right. I wanna be here... permanently."

"Is Sam with you this trip?"

"Uh... No. Sam's getting ready to head off to college."

"Is he expecting you back to see him off?"

"No. We decided to go our separate ways. I love Sam. I've spent my whole life looking after my little brother. But he's a big boy now, and he's right, we want different things in our lives."

"And what is it that you want?"

He put his hand to my face, and I couldn't help but lean into it. "I want you, sweetheart."

"Dean, are you sure? If you're not sure..."

"I'm sure," he said, cutting me off. "If you'll have me."

"Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to watch you walk out that door?"

"No harder than it was for me to do it."

"I can't watch you do it again, Dean."

"You won't have to."

His face got closer and closer to mine as we went back and forth.

"I missed you, so much."

"I missed you, too, sweetheart."

His lips gently pressed against mine and I felt tears sting my eyes. It didn't take long for them to spill over, and Dean pulled back when he felt them fall against his cheek as we kissed.

"Are you okay?" He wiped the tears away with his thumbs.

"Happy tears, Dean. I'm okay."

He placed his forehead against mine as I cried.

"Not that I could blame you if you're not," Dean said, "but are you still just mine?"

"You know," I said with a chuckle, "I had this one drunken night a few weeks ago. I wasn't sure what had happened when I woke up. Turns out all that happened was I kissed the guy... and he said I called him Dean."

Dean smiled at that. I knew he would. If anything could boost a guy's ego, that was it. I wasn't going to ask about other women. Something told me he hadn't been so chaste. Not that he had to be. We didn't expect to see each other again.

"Did you think about me a lot?" he asked.

"Just once a day... all day long. You think about me?"

"Every second."

He barely finished speaking before I kissed him. I couldn't hold back anymore. I knew then that, if he left me again, it would destroy me. This man had gotten under my skin in a way that I never imagined anyone could. He stood from the sofa, breaking our kiss to lift me in his arms. I kissed his neck as he carried me, like a princess, into the bedroom.

I'd had dreams of Dean coming back to me. In those dreams, there was so much pent-up passion that we ravaged each other. Clothes tearing, nails clawing... but there, in the moment of us being reunited, it was slow and soft. He caressed my face, and my fingers gently played through his short hair. The kisses were long and deep, and so were his strokes. The tension slowly built inside of us both, and left us feeling warm and satisfied.

We lay there after, just holding each other. We were on our sides. My back was to him, and his arms were wrapped around me.

"I guess I'll have to find a place to live," he said.

"You're kidding, right?"

"What?"

"You're staying right here."

"I didn't wanna assume."

"Then it's settled."

"Well, I'll need a job. I don't expect you to support me."

"That I agree with," I said with a chuckle. "Speaking of jobs, I do have to work tomorrow. I need to shower and get dinner."

"You shower. I'll go pick up dinner."

He kissed my cheek then got out of bed.

"Thanks," I said. I watched as he found his clothes on the floor and got dressed.

"You want anything in particular?" he asked.

"Surprise me."

He winked at me. "I'm gonna take your key to lock up, okay?"

"Okay."

"Be back in a few."

He walked out of the bedroom, and I soon heard the front door. I got up and collected what I needed for my shower. I never would have thought when I woke up that morning that my life would feel so complete by the end of the day.