Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.
"Hey sleepy."
Dean hears it as if her voice is far off in the distance. He knows it's Lizzy but he's so tired that he ignores it. A small hand lightly runs along his cheek and he wakes a little more and leans into the soft, gentile contact.
"Mmm," he hums with the warmth of her touch, but refuses to open his eyes.
"Dean, wake up. Please." She's trying her best to get him awake again, even though she'd give anything not to. He looks so peaceful. And she knows just how badly he needs the rest. "I doubt I'd be able to carry you across the lot, up the stairs and into the room. Help me out?"
He opens his eyes and is immediately greeted by bright brown orbs hovering over him. "Five more minutes, mom?" he jests.
"No way, man. C'mon out."
Dean slowly eases himself to a seated position and waits for the slight dizziness to fade. He must have gotten hit a lot harder than he'd thought. Once the car stopped spinning he recognizes the motel in front of them and brightening morning sky behind it. He turns to the side to drop his feet on the pavement and Lizzy holds out her hands to help him up.
"Don't go too fast or those spins will come right back," she issues a warning. Eventually he's standing outside the car and the two are walking into their humble abode. Once in the room, Dean shrugs off his coat and lets it drop to the floor, not bothering to pick it up. He then sits down onto the bed he'd slept in the night before. He's so tired his brain won't function clearly anymore and his eye lids have never felt so heavy as they do right now. Dropping back onto the bed with his feet hanging off the edge, he lets his eyes once again close.
"Not so fast," Lizzy says, stopping Dean from passing out. "Move up?" she asks him. Dean slides himself up the bed until his head comes to a pillow and his legs are completely resting on the bed. The cushion feels much better under his still slightly throbbing dome. He feels his head being lifted and then placed back down onto something very cold. He winces with the sudden temperature change. "Just a few minutes for the swelling, ok?" He looks up at her and smiles.
"You know best, right?"
"Sure do, Hot Shot," she returns while taking a seat next to Dean's feet. She begins unlacing his left boot and pries it off.
"Thanks," he says with a grin while watching her work with her back to him. Her fingers move dexterously while untying the laces and when she gets the right boot off she stands up and walks across the room.
"Don't mention it. I'm gonna get ready for some seriously sleep. We have five hours before we have to get up and trade places with Sam and Lou so take advantage," Lizzy explains as she closes the bathroom door.
"Ok," Dean says as he begins to drift off. After a few minutes he assumes, though he isn't sure as he was already half asleep, he hears the door to the bathroom open again and soon his head is being lifted up once more.
"I won't make you sleep on an icepack," she tells him.
"Would I have noticed?" Dean quips.
"Probably not," Lizzy giggles while dropping the pack on the nightstand and undoing her jeans. Dean musters the little strength he has left to lift his weary head off of his pillow and watch as Lizzy strips down to her tank top and underwear before heading in his direction. Watching her movement as she unclothes is one of his favorite sights. She's graceful, even while doing the most mundane tasks, though getting half-naked is no mundane task, he thinks to himself. Lizzy stands at the foot of the bed once more.
"You comfortable like that?" she asks before leaning forward onto the bed and crawling her way on all fours from the foot up to where Dean lays, straddling him once she reaches him. "Fully clothed?"
"Never, honestly," he jests while smoothing his hands over her legs.
"Up," Lizzy tells him while pulling him towards her by the biceps until he's sitting. Placing her hands on his shoulders under his green jacket, she pushes it off of him and helps free his arms from it. She tosses the item to the floor then grabs the bottom hem of Dean's t-shit and pulls it up over his head, letting it join the growing heap of clothing on the carpet. Lizzy keeps going, undoing his belt and jeans before pausing for a moment.
"It's a shame we have so little time to rest up before heading back," she bemoans while running her hands down his chest. "Have to use it actually sleeping."
Dean chuckles while dragging his hands lazily across her back. "You're lucky my eggs are thoroughly scrambled and it's making me exhausted right now. If I had my wits about me, you'd be in huge trouble."
Lizzy grins widely and kisses Dean deeply. She musters all her self-control to pull away from him before getting up and walking to his feet. She grasps the cuffs of his jeans and pulls until his pants are in her hands. "Better?" she asks once they are on the floor with the rest of their clothing and he's left with just boxerbriefs.
"Much," Dean smiles. He follows her with his eyes as she flicks the light switch off, makes her way to the open side of the bed and climbs in, pulling the covers over them both as she does. She pulls him to her, his head laying on her chest and her arm around his neck. He wraps his arm around her and they settle into a comfortable place. Dean closes his eyes once more, enjoying the calm and comfort of where he is at the moment. He runs his hand up and down Lizzy's free arm and his fingers drag across the new scar he'd previously seen on the back of it.
"Hey, you're gonna have to tell me what happened here," he tells her.
"I will. You know, I think we're gonna have to do a lot of talking, honestly," she tells him. It's true, they both know it. They've found themselves in an interesting and complicated impasse. Their lives are difficult to say the least and where exactly they fit into each other's is still a little bit of a mystery.
"Yeah, we do," he agrees in a small, sleepy voice, slightly dreading what's to come.
"For now though, no talk. Just sleep," Lizzy says before she hears the slowed breathing coming from next to her. Dean's already deep asleep. She lazily makes circles with her fingers in his short blonde hair while listening to the sound she now knows she loves hearing. It's soothing. While asleep, she's always thought Dean looked so innocent, so peaceful, and so absolutely adorable, like he's a kid again. She takes the nearly silent moment and recognizes how beyond content she is over something so small. With Dean sleeping in her arms, she is the happiest she's been in months, maybe years even.
Lizzy thinks about the past day and a half and how valuable these still new allies are to her. They aren't even just allies anymore, or just friends. They're much bigger than that. They are family.
For years now, Lou has been her family and, to a certain extent, so has Bobby. She would do absolutely anything for them, especially her adopted sister. Today however, she feels she's gained two new additions to her very tiny, yet very tight clan. Lou and Lizzy had found themselves caring for the two men they'd had the accidental pleasure of running into from the moment they'd met. There's just something about the Winchesters that they've never been completely able to put their thumbs on that makes them love them. And at times, they certainly aren't easy to love. The way they avoid certain issues, their inability to process or talk about their emotions, their stubbornness, the obsessive way they both are always completely concerned with each other; they can be impossible. But that's what family is, right? Unconditional love no matter what.
Lizzy smiles at the thought. She does love them both. She looks at them like brothers… well, Sam at least. Dean's a little more complicated and definitely not brotherly. That conversation is going to be difficult, she thinks. Difficult, but necessary. She says a silent prayer before going to sleep. To whom she prays she isn't sure. Lizzy's never been a religious woman, especially after all she's seen. She just needs this one thing to workout. With all the bad she's experienced, all the things that she's been denied, and all the loss she's been through, she just needs this one thing. She needs Dean in her life.
"Does Dean know?" Lou asks while taking the last full sip she had left of the coffee Lizzy had run out to get them before leaving. They've been making small talk for hours now and Lou is tired of avoiding the issue at hand. She hoped he'd be the one to bring it up, but her patience is long gone after waiting for him.
"Does Dean know…" Sam waits for her to complete the thought. He knows exactly what she's referring to but does his best to put it off as long as possible. He begins picking at the splintering wood of the crate they are seated on in an attempt to avoid her, as if she'd disappear if he stopped acknowledging her existence.
"Are you seriously going to play that game with me right now?" Lou asks, right eyebrow arched. When Sam just shrugs his shoulders and doesn't answer, Lou rolls her eyes and huffs in frustration. "Right. God forbid a Winchester ever makes anything easy. Does your brother know about your weirdo headaches?"
"Headaches? Plural?" Sam questions as Lou catches him completely off guard.
"Yes, plural. That was clearly not the first time you've been through that. And don't try to deny it, you're totally caught." Sam looks at Lou for the first time since the conversation started. She has a very small, tight-lipped smile on and she's waiting for an answer.
"Yes, he knows," he reluctantly replies.
"Good," Lou states with relief. At least he isn't shouldering whatever this is on his own. "Are they always that bad?"
"Well, they do usually suck, but that last one was the worst so far." He knows she asks because she cares and that's the reason he replies honestly. That and it feels good to get some of it off his chest. "The whole thing is pretty complicated."
"What makes these freak headaches so complicated?" Lou pries. Sam doesn't answer at first and Lou links her arm in his as they sit side by side to show her support. "It's ok, Sam. You know you can tell me."
Sam knows that indeed he can. "They're more than just headaches," he confesses. "Headaches are just a side effect."
"A side effect to what?"
"Visions." Crap! It comes out of his mouth before he had the chance to stop it. He's getting too comfortable with her and he knows it. He shouldn't be telling Lou any of this. Dean will kill him if he keeps talking, but for once someone is listening and it feels good. He's only had Dean to really talk about everything with and Dean never wants to discuss it. He wants to avoid it because he can't handle not being able to help. Lou won't turn away or stop talking because she's scared. She sticks it out.
"Visions, like premonitions?" Lou asks with serious concern.
"Exactly. I see something happen before it actually happens."
"Holy shit," Lou sighs. "I never knew if psychics were real or just a load of crap. Guess I know they're no joke now. Or at least some of them are..." Sam grins as Lou does her best to keep things light and easy. Sam's actually opening the vault so she fights to keep it from closing too soon. Keep it cool and comfortable, she thinks to herself. "So does that mean I can get you to tell me tomorrow's lotto numbers? I'll split it 50/50."
Sam laughs. "That'd be nice. No more credit card scams or hustling pool. Nice hotels now and then."
"Fuck all of that, Sam! You're thinking small picture. Think big! We could flee to Mexico and drink margaritas on the beach until we pass out every day for the rest of our lives!" She playfully leans her weight into him with her silly idea.
"That'd be nice too," Sam smiles in return. "But I can't really control what I see, so no lotto numbers." He's finding it easier and easier to admit the truth the more and more he speaks. It feels so good and freeing to let someone else besides Dean in on this.
"What a waste. And here I was hoping to get you in a Speedo," Lou complains with a grin. "So what do you see then?"
Sam knows he needs to tread lightly here. Letting her in on too much could put her at risk. At risk for what, he's unsure. They know this whole thing has to do with the yellow-eyed demon and that there are others like him, and for Sam and Dean that was more than enough. It's still too uncertain and he isn't taking any chances.
"Random things," Sam answers. "Usually they have to do with someone in trouble. Luckily Dean and I have been able to follow up on the things I've seen and have been able to help out a few people here and there."
"So it's actually helpful," Lou surmises.
"It can be," Sam answers. He contemplates telling her about his dreams of Jessica before she died, but he decides that would be too much. As good as it would be to get that horrible truth off his chest, it wouldn't be wise.
"So what did you see this last time?"
"I saw the sky. It was like I was lying on the ground looking up. It was overcast and dreary. And really quiet. That was it," Sam tells her.
"You hear things too?" Lou asks with surprise.
"Yep."
"So not only are you a psychic, but you're a good psychic." Lou smiles and playfully nudges Sam again with her shoulder.
"I guess so. Not really though," Sam laughs.
"What am I thinking right now?" Lou asks him while making a face that tells him he's been challenged.
"You're thinking I'm a freak," Sam says in a half-serious tone. It is the one thing he's feared since opening up about this to her. He definitely didn't want her opinion of him to change.
"Nope," Lou replies. "That's what you're thinking. Don't project you're insecure thoughts onto me, Sam Winchester."
"Sorry," he apologizes with a lopsided grin. She's right. It is exactly what he'd been thinking. "Maybe you're the psychic."
"Ha! Nope, I'm just good at reading people. And, by the way, you're definitely not a freak," she tells him. "Freaks don't travel nine hours to help some friends they'd just met."
"Ok," Sam nods his head. They stay silent for a moment and Lou reaches down to lock her hand into his before speaking again.
"You're a terrible psychic by the way," Lou makes fun. "Just no good at all."
"Ouch," Sam feigns insulted.
"If you were any good, you would have known I was thinking about how I was going to manage getting back into those pants of your at some point."
Sam looks at her, eyebrows lifted in total shock, and starts lightly laughing in an awkward manner at her boldness.
"Wow," Sam states. "That was… unexpected."
"Unexpected my ass," she calls him out. "You know what you look like, Sam. And I have eyes with 20/20 vision so I know what you look like too."
"Ah, thank you?" he hesitantly says.
"You're very welcome. You're hot, Sam. Don't be so damn modest all the time. Enjoy it," she scolds while getting up from her seat and standing between his knees. "And I know for a fact that we work well together on more than just research." Lou winks up at the tall, now very timid feeling man in front of her as she brings her arms around his neck. Seeing him so shy and intimidated by the small woman makes Lou laugh a little.
"That is very true," Sam admits with a bowed head, trying to hide behind his hair. Lou always objectified Sam at every chance she got and he still isn't quite used to it.
"Hey," she says while peeking under his shaggy locks, "you had fun last time we hooked up, if I remember correctly… and I'm pretty sure I do."
"That is also very true," Sam blushes while growing the courage to look at her again. She smiles at him in a way that lets him know he's in trouble before pulling him towards her to kiss him gently, taking it easy on the very apprehensive man… for now at least. She pulls back just slightly and smiles.
"Just saying, Dean isn't the only one who should have some fun now and then," Lou tells him while climbing up onto his lap, straddling the man nearly four times her size with a knee on either side of his hips. "You need to relax a little, give in to being human sometimes. All work and no play makes Sammy a very tense boy."
Sam laughs but is stopped when he's kissed once more by the boldest woman he's ever had the absolute pleasure of knowing. Maybe she's right, he thinks to himself as he gives into Lou's efforts, kissing her back and letting the familiar rush wash over him. While at Bobby's house, they'd spent the night together once and, he had to admit, it was a fun night. More fun than he usually allows himself. It was after the whole mess with Madison, however, and he'd felt awkward afterwards for letting himself move on so fast. Luckily, Lou was her usual, kind self and let him know it was just fun and games and put his mind at ease. No wonder Dean did this kind of thing all the time… or at least he used to. It's fun as hell.
They stay where they are, lips thoroughly locked and enjoy their high school style make-out session. Sam immediately finds the hesitation wash away when his hands knot into her hair and hold her close to him. Before long things start getting heavier and Lou slips her arms through her jacket sleeves, trying to free herself from the heavy item. Once it's on the dirt floor, she then starts peeling back Sam's coat and he helps her get the bulky item off of him, letting it drop behind him on the crate. Lou's been dying for this opportunity for months now and her impatience is very obvious.
"Holy shit," Lou smiles out against Sam's lips with glee as her hands run up under his shirt and she relishes the feel of Sam's well-maintained body. She's almost forgotten just how good it was… almost. "Jesus, you must work out all the fucking time."
"I have a routine," he states simply and grins back before bringing their lips together again. Lou runs her hands higher against his body and keeps going, lifting his t-shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor haphazardly. Her hands roam all over his torso, unable to help herself, as she playfully takes his bottom lip between her teeth. Lou knows this is the hottest man she's ever been with and happy isn't even a good enough word to describe how she feels about getting a second round with him.
"Gotta be one hell of a routine," Lou tells him when his lips leave hers to seek out her neck. She moans softly when his tongue drags downwards and finds the junction at her shoulder. Lou runs her hands through his hair as his teeth graze her skin. "Ah, there's the Sam I've been looking for."
Sam laughs at her comment and his voice comes out with a slightly evil edge. Sam's always been a very motivated, and at times aggressive, lover. He just always needs a push in the right direction to get him there, to let go of pretenses and shut off that ridged and overworked brain of his. Lucky for him, Lou certainly knew how to do that.
Lou pushes Sam back from her, just enough to pull her own shirt over her head. It's cold in the mornings in Missouri mid-winter but neither seem to care or notice as their temperatures rise along with their growing carnal urges. Sam wraps his arms around Lou and pulls her into him, closing the few inches that had been between them, the body heat of each other warm and inviting. They kiss again, deep and serious, hands everywhere and tongues twisting.
He then picks her up and flips their position, laying her back onto the crate over his coat.
"I'm going to make sure that the next time you think about me all day, you don't forget one important part."
"Oh yeah?" Lou grins, loving how worked up she managed to get the usually shy and reserved man before her. "And what part of you might that be?"
Sam waits a beat, smile lingering on his lips, before saying to her the phase that officially melts her brain.
"My tongue."
"Feel free, by the way," Lizzy says, pointing to her IPod that is plugged into the dock on her dashboard. Dean takes the opportunity happily, not really enjoying the Arcade Fire playing in the car. "I can tell by your face this isn't exactly your cup of tea."
"No it is not. I'm not generally a fan of whiney douche bags in my music," he remarks while picking up the device and scrolling through it.
"Hey! Watch your mouth, Winchester. I like this band, a lot," Lizzy warns.
"And I used to think your taste in music was something to be respected." Dean immediately regrets the light-hearted insult when he feels Lizzy's fist crash with force into his shoulder. "Ow," he says with annoyance.
"My taste in music kicks ass," she informs him.
Dean maneuvers into the playlists to pick one of Lizzy's many compilations and stops when he sees his name as one of the playlist titles. Smiling, he selects it and starts looking through the songs. The first two were 'Traveling Riverside Blues' and 'Ramble On' so he presses play with glee. "So you made me into a playlist?" He says it more like a statement than a question.
"Ah, yeah. Guess I did, didn't I?" Her face is showing slight embarrassment as Dean continues reading off the songs aloud.
"'Dirty White Boy', 'Whiskey Rock and Roller', 'Cross Country Boy', 'Touch Too Much'… this is how you view me in song form?"
"Pretty much," she giggles. "Am I that far off?"
"No," Dean surprisingly admits. "You kinda hit the nail on the head, actually." He finds himself impressed with her still uncanny, or uncanny to him at least, ability to see right through him.
"Looks like I know who I'm dealing with then, huh?" she jests.
"Don't get too cocky over there, L. You know me well enough, but not completely. I am a complex and complicated individual. An enigma, really." He shares with her his best shit-eating grin as he jests.
"You joke, but what you say is somewhat true," she says. "And, I hate to tell you, but I see and know a lot more about you than you think I do."
Dean wrinkles his forehead with her confidence and feels the need to challenge her. "Ok smart ass, let 'er rip."
"Oh boy, where to start," she wags her eyebrows at him before returning her focus to the road. "How about this; you are a man of serious excess."
Dean narrows his eyes at her. "How do you figure?"
"Well, you drink too much, you eat too much, your confidence in your hunting ability is sometimes too high… which kinda scares me by the way… your music is too loud, you bottle too much up, you fuck too much… shall I continue?" She glances over with a sly look and recognizes the startle in his expression, even though he is doing his best to hide it.
"Alright," he shakily says, "Doesn't take a genius to figure out all of that. You're just observant."
"Correction, I'm very observant."
"I can agree with that."
"And I even think I know why you do everything to excess."
"Hold on," Dean stops her. "That's a bold statement. I would love to hear what you think you know about me, Dr. Phil." He's more than curious at this point.
"It's the way you were raised. You never had any fun. Spent you're whole childhood being a parent to Sam so of course you would go after any and everything enjoyable now. No one is around to tell you no anymore and since Sam is an adult, you no longer have to watch him like he's a child… though you still do quite often. You actually have freedom in a way to do whatever you'd like." Lizzy has been thinking hard about what Lou had told her earlier and Lou had been totally right.
"That's also why I see in you a totally different light than you see yourself," she continues. "You see the outside stuff a lot. The excessive behavior and the more, um, gruff side of yourself. But I don't. I see the selfless and caring person that you really are. I see the guy who was forced to become a man at way too young an age because he loves his brother with everything he has, because family comes first. I see the guy who's given up everything because he's driven by pure goodness to save people and fight the evil shit that walks this Earth. I see a pure heart, a jaded adult, and a wounded kid all at the same time. To say you're a complex person is actually an understatement, Dean."
Dean stays stock still in his seat. He wasn't even aware of everything she's just brought up about his own self, but he does know for sure that she nailed it. How she did it, he doesn't understand and now Dean is left feeling wide open, like he's naked in front of his high school math class… well, one of them, at least.
"Uh-oh, Dean Winchester is speechless. Now I'm worried," she laughs but stops when she looks over at him and realizes how seriously Dean is taking the conversation. "Wait, am I really freaking you out? I'm sorry, Dean. Shit, I'll stop."
"No," he interrupts. "I mean yes, I am a little freaked out that you figured out so much about me. But I'm not trying to get you to stop. Hearing you say those things, it's terrifying, yet not scary at all somehow, if that makes any sense at all."
"Terrifying because it's said it out loud, but not because I am the one saying it?"
"Probably." Definitely, he thinks to himself.
"Well, I don't know what else I have left, honestly," she shares a small grin. "To me, you're a whole lot of things. Some bad, mostly good, but all together you're a hell of a guy. I feel honored to be a part of your story, Dean."
"Wow. Uh, thanks," he sighs, still dumbfounded by the conversation. He never knew what a freakin' open book he was. "Shit L, you might know more about me than I do."
"Maybe. But you know me too, dude," she counters. "I'm sure if you really thought about it, you'd find you know me quite well."
"I know you like wimpy emo music," he pokes fun.
"Arcade Fire is not emo. And you'd know that if you ever tried to expand your musical horizons."
"Not gonna happen because my music is awesome as it is. And yes, I do know a little about you."
"Alright Hot Shot, what do you think you know?" She's very interested in what he thinks of her. Being such a closed door usually, it's always nice to get a glimpse inside the mind of Dean.
"I know that you grew up without siblings, which is why you always try to take charge of things, like at the police station. You always need to take the lead because you probably always got your way at home. You didn't have to share." He looks over at Lizzy out of the corner of his eye and sees her nod her head in surprise while looking out the windshield. Alright, he got one correct. Good start.
"Also, you're a complete hot head," he states plainly.
"Oh c'mon, everyone knows that!" No points awarded for that one. Too obvious, she thinks.
"But I think it's because of what happened to your parents." He pauses here and waits. Lizzy's silence lets him know he's right, or at least that Sam is. It's something he'd said once while they were talking about the two girls. "You've never really let go of the pain and anger over their deaths. Now when something happens to make you mad, it takes over, especially when someone messes with Lou, who just happens to be the closes person you have in your life, much like your parents were."
"Give the man a prize," Lizzy quietly returns. Guess she's an open book too.
"However, as much as you're the first to beat the living hell outta someone, you also love to be the caretaker and you're always the first to fuss over someone."
"Ok, I'm impressed so far. Not a bad analysis there, Hot Shot. And you're right about the caretaker thing. Sometimes I care more than I should and it's totally bitten me in the ass before."
"I can imagine. I mean, you barely knew Sam and I when we met but you treated us like you would your own family."
"Well, you two are my family. At least you are now," she confesses.
"Really?" Dean asks. It's unexpected to hear her say that.
"Absolutely. Lou and I both feel that way. We have ever since we met you."
Dean grows quiet and watches the scenery go by the passenger side window. Family. A difficult concept for the Winchesters. They had very little left, just each other and an adopted father figure named Bobby. They were always weary of the people they let into their lives and with very good reason.
"Would be nice to have a few extra people in our corner. Trustworthy people, at least," Dean admits.
"We'd be delighted if you'd have us," she tells him. "And the caretaker thing is something even I don't understand. I've just always been that way. My father suffered from migraines frequently and when they got really bad, I was the one who took care of him, constantly checking on him and whatnot. Anytime Louie got hurt by a boy or needed a shoulder, I was there. No matter the situation, I just have a need to help people. Probably why I'm a hunter." She pulls the car over at a gas station, parking next to a pump.
"It is why you are a hunter," Dean states matter-of-factly. "No one jumps into this shit if they don't care and L, and you care more than anyone else I've ever met." Lizzy smiles with the unintentional compliment.
The conversation is curbed for the moment when Dean opens the door of the car and jumps out.
"Pop the fuel cover?" Dean asks as he walks around her car to the driver's side. She does and he pulls out his wallet and swipes his credit card. He then slides it back into its slot and tosses the wallet to Lizzy. "Gas and food is on Lemmy Kilmister today," he winks.
"Excellent. Any requests?" she asks while walking toward the convenience store.
"Something microwaved," Dean says.
"Got it." Lizzy walks into the store and immediately starts picking up items. She pops an egg, cheese, and bacon on an English muffin into the microwave. She then grabs a small box of cereal, skim milk, and an apple. Gotta eat healthy sometimes, right? Dropping them on the counter, she goes back to prepares two coffees, one black for Dean and one with cream and sugar for her, and grabs the sandwich from the microwave once it's done heating. The cashier totals it up; she takes out the fraudulent credit card and hands it to him. It's then that she spies the wrinkled paper sticking out of a back slot of the old leather wallet. Having always been a curious person, she can't help but spy. She pulls it out of its place, begins unfolding, and recognizes her own handwriting immediately. It's the letter she gave Dean before leaving Bobby's two months ago. Her heart swells as she looks up from the paper and out the large front display window at the man who has once again pleasantly surprised her. He's nodding his head in time with 'Touch Me' playing from inside her car, another song from her playlist based on him that seemed completely appropriate, and he's totally oblivious to the woman fawning over him just feet away.
"Ma'am?" the cashier breaks into her train of thought, his hand extended with the credit card.
"Sorry, spaced there for a second," she apologizes. She folds the note back up and replaces it and the plastic card back into his wallet. Grabbing the two shopping bags, she runs out to the car as Dean is walking to the passenger side. They settle back into the car and before buckling in Lizzy leans over and kisses him.
"What was that for?" Dean asks with a grin as she pulls away and returns to her side.
"I just really like exactly who you are, whether I know everything about you or not," she smiles while turning the key and driving off in the direction of the park.