Stormee's P.O.V.

Wow. This noise. It makes me feel as if I can just sink below it and be invisible for a while. But, by the way I'm getting eyed by some of these guys here, it seems that I won't get to be under the radar.

The bartender brought my poison. Dean looks so confused. Ha. Gotchya. I downed four of my six shots of bourbon, two of my tequila and opened a beer. Dean just sat there staring as if he's just witnessed a kitten pull out an AK-47 and start flying.

Dean goes, "What was that? I thought you were getting something girly? No daiquiri? Or virgin bloody Mary?"

I replied with a, "I don't drink that shit. I drink like an alcoholic during Woodstock." I laughed so hard at that; smiling so big. I thought I had snorted. And the way Dean was looking at me, he seemed deep in thought. About what?

"Hey, cutie, can I buy you a drink?" I was nudged from behind. I looked at the person. He was a big burly man, about thirty. He had on a blue jean jacket over a white wife-beater and old blue jeans completed with steel-toed boots.

"Fuck off, man." That surprised me. While I was observing the man, Dean had stood up and addressed him.

"What did you just say to me, boy?"

Dean chuckled, "I said, 'Fuck off, man.' Now, you got a problem with that? Just go on your merry little way. And leave her alone."

"What is she to you? Why don't you just introduce us and leave us alone for a bit?"

I just sat there watching the testosterone-fueled argument in awe. What is that doing? He might have a few inches and some odd amount of pounds on Dean, but if Dean was a hunter like me, this guy didn't stand a chance.

Dean spoke again, "This is my girlfriend, and this is the floor." Deck. Dean had reared his arm back and punched the other guy. The man fell to the floor and my jaw dropped down there, too.

Dean downed his beer, threw some money on the bar, and grabbed my hand. He started pulling me to the door. I said nothing. Why? Was it because he just felt he had to keep an eye one me, kind of protective-like? Or did he mean something by it?

We got outside the bar and he opened the passenger door of the car for me. I got in and he shut it, walking around to his side. I hadn't said a word since the Woodstock thing. It seemed like the worst joke in the world, now. Dean got in the other side and slammed the door. He was pissed.

At me? For even thinking about coming here? For me being the reason we left the bar? For me being here at all? We drove back to Bobby's in silence. He didn't even have any music on.

We pulled up at Bobby's and I had to break this damned silence. I didn't want him mad at me.

"Dean, I'm sorry about what just—" Dean cut me off… He had leaned over and pressed his lips against mine. I was stunned but, for some reason, I kissed him back.

"Don't be," he said with a small smile. He got out of the car and walked inside, leaving me speechless and…breathless. I just stared after him.

He's got a nice ass, I thought.