A/N Special thanks go to Wynefred, an amazing friend, who stayed up past 2 am with me on this. Also thanks to Celeste301 and CasXxGrippedXxMeXxTight for their invaluable feedback, and to MaliBear'sBuddy for advice on how to keep this to a "T" rating.

Thank you, dear readers, for your reviews and for sticking with this story. Writing this has been a wonderful combination of challenging and fun, and I hope you're enjoying it as well…

Chapter 11: The Hunter and His Prey

Dean gaped as Sam went into his knight in shining armor act. Wow, he thought, who knew he had it in him? It was corny, but hell if it didn't look good on the kid...

When Sam asked Sarah to play pool, and she said yes, Dean smiled. "That's my boy," he muttered. It was clear he'd lost the bet. He knew he'd be doing his brother's bidding for a day - but it was well worth it.

Beth, who sat right next to him, watching his brother's antics with Fran's head on her lap, heard him. She smiled. "I take back what I said."

"What?" asked Dean, pulled away from the scene for a moment. He was trying to remember what she had said.

"He's not a lost little puppy."

"Eating your words, huh?" He laughed.

"You could make this easier for me," she admonished.

"I could," he admitted, "but it's not my style."

"I just wanted to say, I can see he's someone special."

"Well, sometimes he can be a klutzy teddy bear..."

She laughed. "Your brother and my sister... who'd think?"

"If she's anywhere as geeky as Sam," Dean said, "it's a match made in heaven."

"Oh God... Geeky is an understatement," Beth smiled. "Does Sam read cereal boxes and compare nutritional values?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah... Does Sarah quote weird facts that you would swear she made up in the middle of every conversation?"

"And read the New York Times every Tuesday like it's the Holy Bible just for the science section?"

"Is her favorite place..."

"the library?" they both said together.

Suddenly they both laughed. "Definitely a match made in heaven," said Dean. He looked into her shining eyes and was caught, seeing so much of himself - the love for fun, coupled with the worry, the care, the love that she had for her sisters, so much like his attitude towards his brother. He put his hand over Beth's, reveling in the feel of the calloused skin, which mirrored his. He could have sworn he felt a current surging through him when they touched.

He started stroking her fingertips. She gasped involuntarily, the unexpected shock was strong. She looked into his green eyes and all the blatant sexuality she had seen in him earlier in the evening was back in full force, but there was more now - solidarity, understanding, a love of family shared. And suddenly she knew she'd misjudged him earlier.

"You're no wallflower," she said, as it dawned on her. "You're a hunter."

Dean's eyes widened in shock. "A hunter?" he asked, praying, hoping he'd somehow heard wrong. "What do you mean?"

"When it comes to women," she explained, "you go after what you want. You don't hold back. Earlier, I saw you standing by the wall and I thought..."

Dean was relieved that she didn't know about the family business, but annoyed that she'd thought he was a pansy. His masculinity was at stake here; he had to do something about it.

Forgetting that Fran was in her lap, he took her head in his hands and kissed her - a hard, demanding, virile kiss.

Beth found herself kissing Dean back with equal vigor. His tongue probed her mouth and she opened for him, but surprised him when she swept her tongue into his, aggressively tasting him. He tasted of beer and salt, a combination that reminded her of the baseball games she used to take her sisters to when their mother had been alive.

At that moment, Fran cried out. She had been falling asleep but was getting squished in between Beth and Dean. Beth pulled back when she heard her sister's cry. Her hair was mussed and she was breathing hard. Dean absently pushed a black lock back from her forehead and out of her eyes.

She just gazed at him, unable to look away.

They were jerked out of the moment by some whistles from Sam and Sarah. "Nice going, Dean!" his brother teased him.

Dean swore silently. He'd forgotten that they were still sitting by the pool table. In fact, everyone had gone elsewhere but Sarah and Sam. Even his father had left without a word to him.

"When did everyone leave?" he muttered. Some hunter, losing complete touch with my surroundings.

"So, Beth," Sarah teased, "you and Hot Stuff, huh?"

"Hot stuff?" asked Sam, a little miffed that she only called him Tall Guy while his brother was "Hot Stuff".

"Hot Stuff?" Dean preened.

Beth smirked. "Don't get a swelled head now... it'll slow you down on the hunt."

"The hunt?" Sarah asked... "Never mind, I don't want to know." She turned to Sam. "Only 'cause he thinks he's God's gift to women, Tall Guy," she said.

"Oh," said Sam, feeling a bit better. "Yeah, you should see him in front of a mirror." Dean scowled at him.

"You know, Beth, you look like you could use a bite to eat. Want to take this somewhere a bit more private?" Dean asked, casting a meaningful glance at his brother.

"Where did you have in mind?" she asked. "And I do have to take Fran home. She's probably uncomfortable sleeping in my lap."

Fran snored softly, and moved in her sleep, her head at a strange angle. Beth tried to shift her but couldn't seem to find a good position. It wasn't clear who was more uncomfortable, Beth or her sleeping sister.

"Nothing complicated," Dean said, with a roguish grin. "How 'bout we get some food to go and I take you and Fran home? Simple dinner, quiet evening, and we'll continue our face time at your place..." He waggled his eyebrows at her and his heated look said that she was next on the menu.

Beth found herself blushing, remembering the kiss they'd already shared. She wondered, did Dean think her such easy prey? "No, that's okay," said Beth. "I can drive myself. Sarah, please go tell the others it's time to leave."

Sarah looked at her, blue eyes pleading. "Do we have to go so soon, Beth? I mean, Sam and I just started playing..."

"It would be a shame to have to cut it short," said Sam, "And no offense, but you could probably use a little help with Fran."

Dean pressed the point. "This way, Sarah and Sam can stay a little longer. They look like they have a lot to talk about." He smirked at his brother, who stuck his tongue out at him.

"And how will Sam get home?" Beth wondered. "Didn't he come with you?"

"Oh, my father can take him home."

"Dean..." Sam protested.

Beth frowned. "Your father didn't seem too pleased with either of you."

"He'll mellow out after his talk with Harry. Business always does that to him."

Beth looked at the three of them, Sam with his earnest, concerned look, Sarah with her pleading blue eyes, and Dean, a mixture of strength, sweetness and wickedness in equal measure there in his gaze, and she couldn't muster the strength to fight. She was tired, she could use the help with Fran, and... well, she didn't really want to end her time with Dean so early. Reluctantly, she agreed, "Well... okay." She tossed the car keys to Sarah. "You're the DD, Sarah. Don't stay out too late."

"Yes, mom." Sarah stuck her tongue out at her sister, and dodged out of her sister's reach, narrowly missing a swat to her backside. She put the key in the pocket of her dress and went back to her pool game.

Dean picked Fran up in his arms. She was a little heavier than he expected. He said, "Come on, Beth. Let's get you home."

X X X

Beth sat in the car and watched Dean drive. He moved the wheel with soft touches, as if he were caressing it. She thought of how he had carried Fran to the bar and ordered dinner for all three of them (though she'd bet Fran wouldn't eat hers), balancing the bar menu in his hand while still cradling Fran. Beth had tried to help him with Fran but he wouldn't have it; it made her a bit mad. Damn stubborn man. She had taken the dinners when they came. Then she had helped him lay Fran in the back seat.

Dean's caveman tendencies both irritated and intrigued Beth. She was an independent woman, unaccustomed to being taken care of. But, inexplicably, she found herself taking comfort in being the one who was cared for. It was a rare feeling of... letting go. And she suspected that Dean's brash, macho exterior hid a sweet, inner center. She'd seen the way he took care of his brother...

And the way he had kissed her spoke of a man who could feel deeply, when he let himself.

For a moment, she relived that kiss, and shivered.

"Are you cold, Beth?" Dean asked. "I can turn up the heater."

"No, I'm fine." She smiled at him. "I don't think I thanked you for taking us home."

"Hey, it was the right thing to do," he said. "Besides, I had intended to take you home." The predatory/mischievous gleam was back in his eye.

"Are we back to the hunt now?"

"The hunt never ended," he said. "Did you want it to?"

"No," she admitted. "But I do have to see to Fran first."

"I'll help you," he said. "So now that I have your complete attention... tell me... what's a nice girl like you doing at a place like O'Shaunassy's?"

She laughed. "Is that the best line you can come up with?"

"No... I was hoping you'd take pity on me for a lame line and tell me."

"I come to O'Shaunassy's a lot. Harry's a family friend," she said. "He's been almost like a father to us."

"Your real father must be proud to have such beautiful daughters." He meant it as a compliment, but stopped suddenly when he noticed her sudden silence. "Damn... I'm so sorry, Beth, I stepped on a nerve, didn't I?"

She smiled grimly. "You couldn't have known... My father left us when I was eight. I think he couldn't handle having five daughters in the space of six years."

The silence stretched uncomfortably between them and Dean didn't quite know what to say. Despite the long absences, constant traveling and frequent motel stays, his father had stayed with him and Sam through events that would have torn a normal family apart. He couldn't imagine what kind of douchebag would leave his wife to raise five kids alone.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's all right; it was a long time ago." She pointed. "Turn right at the next corner."

He decided to change the topic. "You know," he said, "at the bar, you never told me how I rate," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Was that the kiss of a hunter?"

"Definitely a hunter," she said. "And I wouldn't mind being the prey."

He smirked, like the cat who'd swallowed the canary.

"But you should be careful," she warned. "You might have a tiger by the tail."

"Tigers can be tamed," he said.

"Or they'll eat you alive," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"Would you like to?"

They were stopped at a red light and he was looking at Beth, as she slowly, deliberately licked her lips. She stared boldly at Dean. This man really brought out her aggressive side.

Dean's eyes widened. He really hadn't expected that. He put his finger to her lips and her tongue stroked his knuckle. He sucked in his breath. Damn, the girl was good.

He didn't even notice when the light had turned green, but Beth nudged him. "Uh, Dean..."

There was a line of cars behind them, honking.

Reluctantly, he removed his finger. They drove in silence, both shaken by the intensity of their reactions.

Finally, Beth pointed to a large, one-family house with a small porch. "Here," she said, "That's the house."

Dean pulled into the driveway. The lawn was neatly cut and there were flower beds around the windows. "Nice house," he said as he shut the car.

"Thanks." She smiled. "We all take turns keeping it up."

Dean shouldered Fran, who was still sleeping, and carried her to the front door. Beth was already turning the key.

When Beth had settled Fran in her bedroom, there was an uncomfortable silence. Beth and Dean were standing by the bed, inches apart, and the current between them was practically vibrating. Beth cleared her throat. "So, do you want a tour of the house?" she asked.

"What about dinner?" asked Dean.

"We'll eat soon... I'm not that hungry."

"In that case, I'd love a tour," he said.

She took his hand and eagerly led him from room to room. She was almost skipping; it made Dean smile. When she described the work that she and her sisters had put into the house, it was as if all of the care normally on her shoulders - the worry for her sisters, the tight control she kept on herself, the burden of being the responsible one - disappeared.

Soon he was laughing as she described how Sarah, Fran and Chloe had tried to surprise Beth and put in wallpaper in the dining room all by themselves. Somehow they got the consistency on the cement mixture wrong... He could vividly see the scene that Beth described where all of the sisters were eating dinner, and the wallpaper started peeling off the walls.

"The funniest part," she said, "was when that one long strip near the bathroom peeled off and hit Sarah right on the top of her nose."

"Oh no," he groaned. "What did you do?"

"What else?" she giggled. "We cleaned up the mess - the room and Sarah - and started all over again. We had to buy new rolls of wallpaper and some more of the cement paste, but you can bet the girls let me be in charge of it the second time around."

"No more surprises, huh?"

"Well, there are always surprises when you do it yourself."

They were walking into the den, the last room of the house. There was a soft couch there. Dean pulled her over to the couch and pushed her down. "You must be exhausted," he said, "Sit down," He commanded.

She dragged him down next to her. "What about you? It must be a full time job looking after that brother of yours."

"No more than you have looking after your sisters."

One strand of her long, black hair was shading her eyes. On impulse, Dean reached over and pushed the wayward hair back. His fingers brushed her forehead, the simple act sending shivers through her. Beth reached out and stroked his cheek... the slanted jaw with that cute cleft chin right in the middle. And those full lips, not thin, but not too big. She remembered how they had tasted.

Suddenly she realized she was very hungry after all, not just for food.

Before she knew it, she and Dean were both leaning forward. The kiss started softly but soon became demanding, almost consuming. It was dizzying. Their tongues danced and tangled. His hands roamed over her body, under her clothing... Hers were just as bold. The hunter had laid claim to his prey and nothing could tear her away from him now.

Dean smiled as he found the hem of her shirt and started to peel it off. He might be Sam's bitch and watchdog tomorrow, but tonight, he was the hunter. And that was all that mattered.

X X X X

A/N So… after all that Dean did for Sam in this story, don't you think he deserved that reward?

Next: Finally… Sam and Sarah… Alone at last!