A/N – Hope people didn't miss the story too much last week. I know you're all very anxious to read this chapter since it's all about THE kiss. I'd like to thank the usual suspects, Team Bean. I'd be lost without them. See you at the bottom!

This chapter is brought to you by The Afters' One Moment Away. Visuals are up on my profile as always.

Are they gonna remember you from running away or saving the day from the darkness and letting your love shine through?

Chapter 14 - Smoke and Mirrors

Once my lids were dusted with a shimmery gray shadow and lined with a dark charcoal, I hovered over the bathroom counter and leaned in as close as I could to the mirror to attempt to put on mascara without stabbing myself in the eye. Slowly, I backed up along the tile floor, my ankles slightly wobbly on the five inch heels. I let out an audible gasp when I noticed my reflection. Wearing makeup always made me feel like a fish out of water. No matter how many times Alice tried to get me to wear my hair differently or put on fancy clothes, it always felt so forced―so fake. Even getting ready for my own prom was a huge source of anxiety for me. I didn't really want to go, but Edward insisted, and I just tried to make the best of it. It didn't change the way I felt or how I held onto Edward's arm so tightly if he hadn't been a vampire, I was positive I would have broken the skin with my vice grip. Having the best looking guy at Forks High by my side didn't take away any of the panic I felt or the way everyone's stares and whispers burned my skin to a point where I felt it would just melt off.

The girl staring back at me wasn't someone I recognized, but she was someone I always wanted to be. A small smile played at my lips as I admired the way my loose waves cascaded down my bare back. My complexion was practically flawless thanks to the foundation I found at the drug store. The smooth skin and the perfect hair weren't what got me; it was the way my eyes looked. They didn't just pop from the eyeliner or eyeshadow. There was a spark that I had never noticed―I was alive and I felt it deep in my bones as it seeped from every pore.

After applying a coat of lip gloss, I did a quick turn in the mirror and realized my zipper was still undone. I craned my neck, arching my back, trying to zip myself up but the back of the dress dipped so low, I was having a hard time doing it by myself. A gentle knock tore me away from my frustration and I sighed in relief, knowing I'd have someone to help me, until I remembered what was standing on on the other side of that door. I took a deep calming breath. I could to this; the dress only made it easier to play the part. All I had to do was get Marshall into the room, and then Sam and Dean would exorcize the demon from him. It sounded like a piece of cake. I made my way across the floor, paying attention not to let my heels catch in the thick plush carpeting. I slowly opened the door, keeping my head down, too shy to meet Dean's eyes while wearing the dress. I'd have plenty of time to compose myself before we got to the ballroom. I just needed to leave my insecurities at the door. I wasn't the Bella from before. So much had changed in the past two months, and it was time to show off the backbone the Winchesters had returned to me.

"Bella...wow..." He let out a loud breath, searching for words.

I looked up, my own eyes widening as I saw Sam standing in front of me. "Sam?"

His cheeks started to turn a bright red as he shook his head at my transformation, his shaggy hair flopping around. "You look..."

"Ridiculous?" I raised an eye brow as I looked down and took in my own appearance, suddenly second guessing my new found confidence.

What the hell was I thinking? No matter how soft and smooth the dress was against my skin, I still knew it was there, and I knew I was only acting. This wasn't me and no matter how much I wanted it to be.

"I was going to say beautiful." Sam's voice was soft as his smile worked to build my fleeting confidence.

I shouldn't have been disappointed at seeing the younger Winchester brother standing in front of me, but a sharp twinge strangled my heart when my mind raced through all the different possibilities of Dean trying to ditch me again.

"Where's Dean?"

"He sent me to come get you. He wanted to make sure there wouldn't be any surprises, so he's just scoping everything out."

I nodded, silently chastising myself for always assuming the worst. I liked to think Dean and I had a sort of break through last night. We hadn't admitted anything to one another, but at least now I knew it wasn't that he didn't want to get close to me, he was just afraid to. I flat out told him I wasn't going anywhere and it felt like maybe we had turned a corner.

"Could you...would you..." I bit my lip and turned around. "I need help with the zipper."

"Yeah." He let out a nervous laugh and I heard him swallow loudly. "Sure. No problem."

His fingers fumbled at my lower back, finally pulling the zipper closed and lingering just above my tailbone. I spun around, keeping my head down.

Clearing my throat, I finally met his eyes. He looked as awkward as I felt. Ever since he almost walked in on me in the bathroom, he had a hard time looking me in the eyes. My gaze followed the long column of the dress, wincing slightly as the slit exposed the pale skin of my leg, and stopped at the floor where my toes peeked out of way too high, peep-toe pumps.

"Do you mind helping me to the elevator? I'm terrified I'll fall on my face in these."

Sam smiled warmly at me, extending his hand. I took it and he gently tucked me into his side and led me to the elevator. Out of habit, I felt my shoulders slump forward as we waited for the doors to open. Sam put a hand on my shoulder and instinctively, I straightened my back. He let out a soft laugh.

"You have nothing to be nervous about. You look great. I'm sure Marshall will make it a point to find you tonight and then all you have to do is lead him to the conference room. I'll be there waiting and Dean will make sure he doesn't hurt you."

I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth and side eyed him. Marshall was the least of my worries. I had seen the brothers in action enough to know they always got the job done.

"It's not that...I just feel..."

The bell sounded and the doors opened up, revealing an empty elevator. I took a few steps in and turned around to see Sam still standing. "You're not coming with me?"

"I still have a few more things to get together for the Devil's Trap."

The doors started to shut before I had a chance to protest. I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to look in the mirrors that lined the elevator walls. I'd have enough eyes on me tonight. The ride to the lobby didn't take nearly as much time as I hoped it would. That was the funny thing about time; when you wanted it to speed up, it slowed to a snail's pace, and when you begged for that extra second, even if it was just enough time to catch your breath, it never seemed long enough. All I wanted was one more minute to put myself together. Dean was so rushed this morning, between phone calls with Bobby and getting all the supplies together, we didn't really have a chance to go over the role I was supposed to play. I was his date, but did that mean we had to act like a couple?

From what we had found out about Marshall, or rather Classyalabolas, he preferred to take women that belonged to someone else for his testing―more like torture. Apparently it was part of his MO. Along with loving his fair share of blood and guts, he also loved toying with the victims minds, especially the ones that loved each other. Another freaky demon power as Sam liked to call it. Classyalabolas had the ability to actually get into the minds of people that were in love. Once he was in there, he could plant all sorts of seeds of doubt and screw with the connection, most of the time inciting homicide. He loved it all: the gore, the rage, the look of shock on the victim's face once they realized they had killed the love of their life.

In recent years, scientists had taken an interest in what love did to the brain, and I couldn't help but wonder if Marshall may have been a part of that. Thanks to his unique testing on the suicide victims, we knew his virus for the benefit had been perfected. We were banking on the fact that he loved the psychological thrill almost as much as the massacre. If I pushed enough of his buttons, put on a good enough show, he'd want one more "appetizer" before enjoying the main course. Even if I successfully tricked him into following me into that room, Dean and I would still be safe because whatever our feelings were for one another...Dean had never been in love, and I wouldn't let myself fall in love again.

The safety net I was counting on was quickly and violently yanked away when the elevator doors opened to reveal Dean. The lines of the tuxedo accentuated his strong body, the jacket fitting perfectly over his broad shoulders and muscular chest. I smiled slightly when I caught sight of the bow tie. He looked very James Bond and he almost fit the part with his gelled, styled hair, if it weren't for the uncomfortable grimace he wore on his face. The minute his devastatingly hazel green eyes fell on mine, his lips parted and his tongue snaked out, quickly licking his bottom lip. I felt like the air was knocked out of me. I sucked in a sharp breath as his gaze followed the curves of the dress. The intensity of his stare, combined with the way his eyes raked over my body, like tiny licks of flame dancing across my skin, I was left dumbfounded. It wasn't until he spoke my name and closed the space between us, extending his hand to help me out of the elevator, that I realized I had stopped breathing. I took a long careful stride in his direction, and his eyes darted to the bare leg that poked out from the slit in the dress. A rush of heat covered my skin, trailing up as his eyes bore into the exposed flesh. I took his hand and he grasped it tightly.

He turned to face me, awe and wonder working its way on his features. I crinkled my nose wondering what he was looking at.

"Bella, you look..."

I laughed under my breath, quirking a small smile. "Alright. Get it out..I look ridiculous!"

He spun me into his chest, staring intently at my lips. "Definitely not the word I'd use."

The distinct taste of copper had filled my mouth, and I realized I had been chewing on my lip so hard I broke through the skin. Dean released my hand, only to bring his to my face, brushing past my lip and gently tugging it out of my mouth. His hand followed the apple of my cheek, working its way through my loose curls, and tucking a stray strand behind my ear.

"I was thinking more along the lines of beautiful. You look beautiful, Bella."

My cheeks immediately started to redden and I looked away from him, focusing on the freshly polished marble floor. I felt his callused fingertips underneath my chin as he gently lifted my face so our eyes would meet.

"Don't hide your blush. That's beautiful too."

I smiled softly and took his hand in my own again. "Thanks, Dean. You don't look too bad yourself."

His eyes narrowed in a playful manner. "Don't objectify me."

And just like that the heaviness in my heart seemed to melt away and dissipate into the air around us. I let out a laugh, feeling safe and confident with Dean by my side. He led us straight to the bar and ordered himself a martini. I couldn't contain my laughter when he said, "Shaken, not stirred," in the most ridiculous British accent I had ever heard. The night almost went off without a hitch until he raised an eyebrow at me when I ordered a gin and tonic.

"Shouldn't you stick to a Shirley Temple, sweetheart?"

I glowered at him and leaned in to speak. My voice was harsh as I whispered the words forcefully. "That's rich coming from the guy that has no problem giving an underage girl a beer."

Dean seemed a bit taken back from my tone and pursed his lips in a cocky manner. "I guess I was just expecting you to order something a little more fruity. Most girls like daiquiris, right?" He shrugged, trying to brush it off and smooth things over with me.

The bartender pushed our drinks toward Dean and he gave him a nod before picking them up and handing me my drink.

I was still bristled by his assumptions and mumbled under my breath. "Well, I'm not most girls."

Forcing a smile, I made a show of taking a long sip from the straw. I tried to mask the sour face I wanted to give when my taste buds were assaulted with the taste of pine needles. In all honesty, I had no idea what I had ordered. Sometimes Charlie would drink a gin and tonic on special occasions or after an especially rough shift, so I assumed it was the thing to do.

His eyes danced with silent laughter as he gave me a crooked smirk. "I'm beginning to see that."

I was halfway through my second drink when Dean nodded toward the stage. Marshall was standing in the wings flanked by two other men with fierce, menacing looks on their faces as they eyed the crowd. Squinting, I tried to make out their faces, and I could have sworn their eyes had been pitch black for a brief moment. I was probably just seeing things. Besides the warmth spreading throughout my body, things weren't as focused and I felt slightly dizzy. I was definitely starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. After I had finished the first one, the second one seemed to go down a lot easier.

Dean glared at the stage, focusing on the men in the suits. "There's our guy. I think he brought friends."

"Friends...as in...other demons?"

Dean tossed back the rest of his martini and firmly placed it back on the bar. "This is going to make getting him alone a lot harder than we thought."

"Well..." I smiled confidently, the booze flowing through my system giving me that extra courage I needed. "I guess we'll just have to give him a show he won't be able to resist."

I took his hand and led him to the dance floor. There were a few other couples dancing, and I caught Marshall watching them closely, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"Bella, I don't..."

I squeezed his hand tighter. "Look, I don't dance either..." I lifted my leg slightly to show off the heels I was wearing "...especially in a death trap like these, but if we're going to grab his attention, now's the time to do it."

Dean guided me into his chest and wrapped his other arm around my waist, resting a hand on the bare skin at the small of my back. I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or being that close to him that caused my skin to feel hot to the touch. I let out a deep breath as his feet started to move slowly in rhythm with the delicate violin strings that filled the air. Trying to follow his lead, I kept miss-stepping and he pulled me into him tighter.

"Just relax," he whispered into my hair.

I felt cool air tickle my neck as he let out a long exhale. Crushed against his body, I seemed to find the same rhythm and didn't falter once, until the soft voice accompanying the music hit me. We were so close I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as my body pressed against him. It was like he was answering the singer's pleas, and my own, when the deep, soothing voice around us sang, "I want to feel you. I need to hear you."

The words of the song affected me, bringing me back to the moment and forcing my feelings to the front of my mind, the delicate crooning of the male singer asking how I could stand there and not be moved, how it could be any better than this. The music started to pick up, louder and faster. Pulling away slightly, I searched Dean's face as the song continued. His eyes bore into mine, causing my heart to beat furiously. The pounding of my heart and the frantic tempo of the song made me feel like I was spinning, the only thing keeping me on the ground were Dean's arms around me and the way he looked at me, eyes blazing with emotion.

The chorus of the song continued to repeat, the words and music forcing me closer and closer. Before I had a chance to chicken out, my mouth found his, soft and pillowy against my own. Our eyes remained open, staring at each other in shock, gauging the other's reaction. He didn't pull away so I pressed my lips harder against his, winding my hand around his neck and pulling myself closer so nothing, not even air, was between us. Dean's lips started to move, demanding and greedy, commanding me to let him in. Closing my eyes, I opened my mouth, a moan escaping me when I felt his tongue. My breath hitched and I was getting worked up, my senses awakening.

The song finally ended and we pulled away slowly. His eyes never left mine as the last notes of the song filled the air.

'You're all I want. You're all I need. You're everything.'

The words of the song had lingered in Dean's mind long after it had ended. I tried to shy away, walk back toward the bar but Dean grabbed my hand, pulling me back to him. He put a protective arm around me as we made our way to Marshall who was minutes away from speaking to the crowd. Marshall's steely blue eyes found my face. Instead of being filled with mischief, his face was draped in pure evil, and I knew I had put on the performance of a life time...except I wasn't sure I was acting anymore.

We stood in front of Marshall, his guards making it almost impossible to get to him. He waved them out of the way and took a few steps down the stage to meet us. Extending his hand for my own, I nervously let him take it. He brought it to his mouth and placed a kiss on it that made my skin feel like a million tiny bugs were scurrying across the surface. My gut made me recoil and Dean gave me a worried look. I tried to play it off as being shy and looked down as Dean introduced himself.

"Dr. Dorian." Dean leaned into the handshake and squeezed Marshall's hand.

He must have squeezed it a little too tightly for Marshall's liking because a look of utter disgust flashed across his face as he yanked his hand back. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm a huge fan of your work, sir. I was wondering if you had time to discuss..."

I smiled wryly, catching Dean's literary reference to the famous man that sold his soul so he wouldn't age. "Oh you don't have to lie for me. The truth is I'm the fan. I've been obsessed with your work since what seems like...forever." I added a little eyelash batting for good measure. "The fact that you're so young and made such progress is remarkable. I'm an aspiring researcher myself, and I'd love a chance to get in your brain."

Dean's lips tightened together as he tried to hide his smirk. I widened my eyes, trying to appear as innocent as possible. I knew I was playing with fire, but Dean's snark was starting to wear off on me, and I just couldn't resist the dig to the good doctor.

'She's feisty and absolutely delectable. I'm sure I'll have fun with this one.' He turned to Dean giving him a challenging smirk and then back to me. I swallowed thickly, his silent words leaving my mouth dry.

"For someone as pretty and bright as you, I'm sure that can be arranged." He reached out his hand and I pushed down the disgust and took a hold of it. "Shall we go somewhere more private?"

I looked over my shoulder, trying to mask my uneasiness with a small smile. Any sign of worry and I knew Dean would follow us in a heartbeat, which would make him a target as well. I couldn't let him endanger himself or risk the plan falling through. His eyes begged me to ask him to come with us.

Gulping, I cleared my throat. "Honey, I think I left my purse in the hotel room. Would you mind checking for me?" It was my way of telling him I'd be okay.

Dean gave me a skeptical look. "You don't really need it, do you? You know how much I love discussing..."

His need to be there to protect me tugged at my heart, but I cut him off with a stern look. "Yeah, I do. It's that time of month so..."

I turned to face Marshall and utter delight danced across his face. His pale blue eyes darkened, and he took on a truly wicked appearance. Gone was the charming man resembling a viking god and in his place was someone very evil. Maybe he mistook Dean's protectiveness as something else, like the jealous boyfriend unwilling to let his date out of his sight. Whatever he found in our interaction worked to our favor. I was going to get him in the room without him ever suspecting a thing.

"Ready?"

I took small delicate steps toward the conference room, offering Marshall contrived smiles and exaggerated laughs. The whole time I could feel Dean's eyes on me with an intensity that tied my stomach into knots.

We were almost to the door and so close to ending this thing, I could almost feel the stress rolling off me in waves. One more step and it would be over. I moved to twist the door knob, but Marshall stilled my hand, taking it into both of his.

"Your boyfriend is just completely enamored with you. More than willing to just walk right into his own death for you, hmmm?" He moved his hand to my face and I shuddered at his touch.

I backed away and pushed the door open. "Oh, I don't think he's quite there yet. We've only just started..." Taking a few steps into the room, praying he would follow, I could feel the blood rushing to my ears and swayed slightly on my feet. I reached for the wall trying to recover my balance.

Marshall entered the room behind me, the doors slamming shut with a wave of his hand. My eyes widened. "How did you...what are you..."

The sound of the doors shutting alerted Dean to the first sign of trouble.

"Bella!" I heard his muffled, frantic voice through the heavy doors. Pounding fists and a bit of scuffling was followed by Dean yelling, "Get your hands off of me."

Marshall smiled widely, baring his teeth that could easily tear into my flesh. His tongue ran across the tops, just waiting lick my bones clean. "See what I mean?"

"Just let him go. I won't put up a fight." I looked behind me, noticing the Persian rug in the center of the floor that Sam told me about. I backed up, trying to lure Marshall to the circle hidden underneath.

"It's just so sweet. The way you two want to sacrifice yourself for one another. I haven't seen this kind of love in quite some time. You really will be the most delicious appetizer. I can't wait to lick his blood of your hands and then get my fill of you."

He lunged forward at me but I was already in the circle. The minute he grabbed my shoulder, I reared back which caused me to stumble to the ground. Marshall took a crouching stance and proceeded to advance, like a mountain lion stalking its prey. I inched my way back on my hands and when he tried to follow, he hissed.

"What is this?" he demanded.

I righted myself and kicked the rug up with my heel. "Devil's Trap."

The doors burst open, revealing Sam and Dean and an empty ballroom, save for the lifeless bodies of Marshall's men lying on the floor.

Dean stalked toward Marshall and grinned. "Hey, Marshall...or do you prefer Classyalabolas?"

Marshall snickered. "So you're hunters?"

Dean folded his arms over his chest and cockily pursed his lips. "Born and bred."

Clicking his tongue against his teeth, Marshall admonished him. "Then you have no business feeling..." His eyes lit up, gleaming with excitement as he clapped his hands together. "It's only going to end in bloodshed."

Dean whipped out a silver flask and flicked it toward Marshall. Water sprayed out and the demon cowered on the floor. "You know why they named that movie, 'Forgetting Sarah Marshall'? Because no one cares what you think." He turned to Sam and nodded. "Do it, Sammy."

Sam started reciting something that sounded a lot like Latin. The demon's face contorted into pain as he growled and snarled. "Hunters have one fate. Love and a white picket fence isn't one of them," the demon cried through clenched teeth. "Just ask dear old dad." A wicked smile appeared on his face.

Sam circled the demon, continuing the exorcism, and I bolted straight for Dean's arms. I didn't care what the demon was saying. All that mattered was feeling Dean's arms around me, relishing in the warmth of his breath and the softness of his words when he told me everything was going to be okay. He looked down at me, his hand sliding over my collarbone, up my neck until he cupped my cheek tenderly. I stared into his eyes, knowing I was no longer putting on a show for the demon. I reached out my own hand, stroking the line of his strong jaw, the stubble scratching my fingers and sending prickles up and down my spine.

I wanted to kiss him again but I felt the need to reassure him that the demon was wrong. "Dean, what the demon said..."

He pulled his face away, disgust shadowing his features. I dropped my hand, feeling rejected. "Demons lie, Bella." He turned away, refusing to meet my imploring stare. I had so much I wanted to say, but he was just shutting down.

Just as I was about to question him, needing him to explain what the demon lied about―his fate or our feelings―the sound of a body falling to the ground echoed through the room and startled me. Sam turned to face us as Marshall's body lay on the ground.

I covered my mouth with a hand. I had never been in the same room as a dead body before. "Is he..."

Sam tucked the book back into his jacket and walked over to us. "No. He and his men will probably be out of it for awhile, but once they wake up they should be back to themselves, pre-possession."

"So Marshall will think it's 1976?" Looking at his lifeless body, I felt bad for the guy. He'd have no idea of what had happened. For all he knew, Dr. McDade was still alive and he was just filling in for him temporarily.

Dean chuckled, glancing at me with a mischievous light in his eyes. "Aw, cheer up, sweetheart. He won't have it that bad. Imagine his face when he discovers the internet and all that easily accessible porn!"

E/N – If you're wondering about the song that I alluded to while Bella and Dean were dancing, it's called, "Everything" by Lifehouse. I think you can probably guess where the title of the story came from now.

Quick apology to the straggler reviewers from last week's chapter. I'm sorry I didn't get a reply with a teaser back to you. Things got hectic when I returned from my trip and I figured you wanted the chapter instead of a reply. I'll make it up to you I promise!

I have a quick rec for my readers. A very good friend of mine, DarknNerdy has ventured into the Boondock Saints fandom with a new story. Even if you haven't seen the movie, you need to read the story. It is so good! It's called "Heavy Souls" and can be found in my favorites. Please show her some love. I have a surprise for you if you do. Yes, I'm not above bribing.

Reviews are better than Dean kissing you. *breaks out laughing* Who am I kidding? Nothing is better than that, but I'm sure you have a lot to say about the kiss so come talk to me, yeah?