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.

"Yeah, uh, didn't match anything human usually seals the deal for me," Sam huffs a laugh as he and Dean leave the precinct on their latest hunt. Successful single men getting murdered in their homes, hands and feet severed and an odd symbol carved into their chests. "I don't know, I've never seen this symbol before." Sam pockets his phone after looking at the picture of the victim's chest he took. "Let's get a bite to eat, go back to the motel, haul out the laptop."

"That's a great idea. Actually, that's a brilliant idea. Here's my counter," Dean starts, his strung out status and utter exhaustion getting to him too much to really do what it is Sam suggests. "You do that, I'll go undercover, go mingle amongst the locals and see, uh, what kind of clues bubble to the surface."

"You're going to a bar," Sam sums it up with disappointment, having been able to assume this moment was coming for a while now.

"Wow. If you want to oversimplify it," Dean says with sarcasm.

"Dude, don't let that last phone call get to you too much…."

"You know what, Sam," Dean cuts his brother off. "I don't need you telling me shit like that."

"You keep letting her get to you though," Sam says to him, nearly pleading while trying to reason with his brother that's still upset from earlier.

"And there you go oversimplifying things again," Dean rolls his eyes. "You aren't on the inside of this Sam. You don't know what we're dealing with."

"You keep saying that but, dude… come on. It's you and Lizzy. You're always gonna end up fine."

The dismissive attitude he's always getting from Sam and Lou about his marriage finally becomes too much.

"Don't tell me what my marriage is or fucking isn't. Last I checked this was between me and Lizzy."

"Not really," Sam easily disagrees.

"How do you figure?" Dean asks with fire.

"I live every second of my day with you, Dean. Every argument you guys have I'm a part of. You two need to stop being stupid and just get along again."

Dean clenches his teeth and stares at Sam with total enraged frustration. "I'll see you later." He then turns and marches off in the direction of the street with several bars on it that they passed a few block back on their way to the precinct.

"Dean, come on!" he hears Sam call out but ignores it and keeps going, just needing a drink so badly he wants to scream. "Dean!"

How dare Sam assume he knows what it's like to fight every damn day with the one person he loves more than he can explain? It's been torture living like this and it's been more frightening than he can properly ever explain.

And right on time, one block traveled and stewing in his anger, Dean's phone rings. He pulls out his cell and sees it's Lizzy calling. Weighing his options very briefly, Dean figures why ignore it. He's going to drink anyways. Might as well get this one over with.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to talk to you yet."

"Well, I'm ready to talk to you," Lizzy says with defiance.

"Then you better start speaking. And do your best not to insult me quite as bad this time if you can help it."

There's pause on the other line but Dean doesn't feel bad at all for his words. She deserves it this time.

"I didn't mean it."

"You didn't mean what, L?" Dean fires out with the rage that never went out. "You didn't mean to tell me you can't be married to someone like me or you didn't mean to say I'm just like my father… yet again?"

The heavy silence on the other end lets him know she really is regretful but it doesn't help. With Lizzy it'll always be her mouth that can damage him the most.

"That stuff… it just came out… I didn't mean to say those things to you," her meek voice tries to explain.

"But you did," he sternly points out. "You said them and you said them pretty fucking easily."

"I was angry!" she defends. "You've said some pretty mean shit to me when angry too! Let's not forget about that!"

"I have never said anything nearly as bad as what you did," Dean accuses as he walks down an alley to get away from the public, not needing to air his dirty laundry to strangers. "Lizzy… fuck! You basically said our marriage is over. You said you couldn't be with me. What the fuck do you want me to say to that!?"

"That's not what I meant…."

"But it's what you said."

"But what I meant was I can't be in a happy marriage when I am never with the man I love. Just let me come see you…."

"No fucking way."

"Dean, please…."

"No!" he continues to deny. "It's not safe and honestly… I don't want to see you right now."

"What?" her devastated voice asks.

"After everything you said to me today… after telling me I'm as bad a father as my own, and don't deny it because I know you meant it… Lizzy, seeing you right now wouldn't be good. I need time to think."

"To think about what?"

"To think about what I want!"

And silence. Dean wasn't really aware that he was thinking this way, that he needs to figure out if he wants out or not, until this very point. It became very real right then.

"Are you serious?" Lizzy questions him, her voice so damn scared that he's never really heard her be that vulnerable before.

He sighs heavily. "What are we doing, L?" Dean asks her. "Are you happy right now? Being with me?"

After a large pause he hears her say, "No."

"Well, I'm not happy being with you either," Dean admits. "I hate the fighting and the making each other feel like utter shit. You and me, we're broken and after three months of this crap I don't know what to do. I need to think about this."

"Oh God," he hears her sigh with desolation.

"I need a few days," Dean continues. "And so do you."

She doesn't answer with anything other than a struggled sigh, Dean knowing she's crying.

"Just… think. I'll call you."

Dean hangs up and stares at his phone, knowing he should smash it… but he can't. Lizzy sent him more pictures of Sammy and he hasn't saved them on Sam's laptop yet. So instead he pockets his phone and stands there in the alley for a second to collect himself.

That conversation was a long time coming. Dean's been unhappy. He's been miserable for months. So has Lizzy and he knows it. Maybe, at this point, it's for the best that they separate, just for now. Loving Lizzy has been nothing but easy from day one until now. But this is too much. They're getting mean, they're insulting each other easily, they can't see eye to eye for a second and, right now, he's rather not see her than get a few hours in with her. That's a new low for them.

With a deep breath, Dean looks down at his hands. He's shaking. The whole unnerving situation has taken far too much out of him and he needs to drink.

Before leaving the alley he spies the ring on his finger. It's suddenly constricting and binding in a way that it's never been before. Just the look of the worn, dented piece makes him want to throw up.

He pulls the ring off his finger and pockets it before strolling back down the street, his mind lighter with the jewelry gone. His physical binding to her is gone and for a second he can pretend he doesn't have a wife he's possibly ready to cut ties with romantically and he can instead focus on getting hammered.

Based on the fact that it's the first bar he comes across, Dean settles for the swanky looking spot for once. It looks like it could have some seriously good and very strong whiskeys on hand so… perfect.

Dean pulls open the door to the Cobalt Room and marches in with determination.

"Uh, dinner and a movie, which sounded fine… except the movie was Human Centipede."

Dean laughs honestly at what the beautiful, redheaded woman across the small bar top table from him says. He's feeling lighter, more carefree in the moment and for the first time in forever he's not thinking about Lizzy and his strained marriage. He's having fun with a woman that is easy to talk to and even easier to be in the company of. "What, so wait, uh, so you had a problem with that?"

Lydia laughs a little back. "The date from hell."

With a bright smile, Dean says, "Dating, right? Ugh." He shudders, not caring that he's only gone on a handful of true dates in his life. They usually suck. The only good one he ever had was the night with Lizzy in California. That was a really great night….

"But what's the option?" Lydia cuts into his thoughts. "I don't see settling down any time soon."

Dean looks at her with shock. "Well, that's something you don't hear every day."

"Oh, what, are you ready for the big commit?" she laughs her question out.

With a pause, Dean thinks. He never was ready, really. Not until he almost lost Lizzy in a hunting attack did he even truly think about marriage seriously. Before then he had no interest, he just knew Lizzy wanted that. Oh, how a near loss of the love of your life will make you rethink the sanctity and merit of marriage. "Me?" he finally chuckles a little in response. "Not exactly."

Lydia can see the opening there, can smell the availability all over him. "Nice suit, by the way," she goes on to compliment him. "Guys don't dress up much. I like it."

"Yeah, well, it's, uh, a conservative line of work," Dean lies through his teeth, sadly falling back into his old ways. He used to be a charmer and could get what he wanted with a couple lies and a wink and he can feel that version of him bubbling to the surface.

"What line is that?" Lydia asks, accepting the fresh drinks a servers brings them both. Get him drunk enough. That's the plan.

"Investment banking," Dean comes up with on the fly. At this point he's just curious to see if he can do this whole thing anymore. It's been years since he's lied to a woman in a bar.

"Oh, God," Lydia rolls her eyes. "I hear the hours are ridic."

"Yeah," Dean looks down at his drink.

"But there's money to be made."

"I've had a fortunate year," he responds without looking at her while trying not to laugh at how untrue his statement is. The guilt creeps in the second he can feel how attracted she is to the fake person he presents to her.

"Well," Lydia starts and raises her glass to him. "May you have many more."

They clink glasses.

"Arigatou," Dean responds and takes a hefty sip of his whiskey. He was right. They have damn good booze here.

"You speak Japanese?" Lydia asks, her high level of impression clear in her tone.

"Ah, enough to get by," Dean answers, the lies rolling off his tongue easier and easier. This is a bad idea.

"Well, look at you," she smiles, her face going serious and wanton.

"Yeah, look at me." Dean hides his eyes and peers only at the liquid in his glass. He doesn't want this. He wants Lizzy. This was stupid. He shouldn't have let this woman sit down with him. He should have listened to his gut, shooed her off, and called Lizzy to tell her he's never going to give up on her. He needs to do that.

"You want to move this conversation elsewhere?"

His eyes shoot up to see her. Dean had the feeling this was coming. He can't believe he let himself get this far.

"Ha," he huffs and gets awkward. "Lydia, listen…."

"Say no more," she says with an embarrassed smile.

"I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean to lead you on," Dean starts to apologize immediately.

"I'm not your type, it's totally fine," she tells him, getting up from her seat while quite shocked. No man has ever turned her down like this, not after having pegged them as available and willing.

"No, no!" Dean quickly denies. "Please, Lydia… you're definitely my type. You're every guy's type."

She laughs something bashful with the compliment, looking to her shoes and tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I just… it's complicated right now," he tells her.

"Girlfriend?"

"Uh… well…." he starts to answers but she cuts him off.

"You're married," she nods with the realization, getting the picture as she looks closer at his left ring finger, the unmistakable mark on it where a ring usually sits now obvious to her. "Of course you are. Every guy with a retirement fund and a smile like that is already taken. I should have assumed."

He looks at her with surprise, not having been ready for the nice comment. "Uh… thanks, but… yeah. I'm, I'm taken."

"You take pictures of her with you on business trips?" she questions, her mind already turning.

"I don't…?"

"Come on, Dean. I have to see what the girl that can snag you looks like," she says in the most innocent and complimentary way she can muster.

With a weird worry niggling at the back of his mind, Dean goes against this odd feeling and pulls out his phone. He chooses a picture from the weekend they spent in California together, years back before Sammy was even a thought. Their server offered to take it for them as they finished up their meal together. In it Lizzy is wearing that stunning short black dress with the sheer lace sleeves that was like a second skin on her. She had her hair long and wavy and she was sitting on his lap, grinning so brightly it should require sunglasses to look at the picture.

"Here," Dean says, angling the phone to her.

"Wow," Lydia says. "She's stunning."

"Yeah," Dean smiles at the thought. She is stunning. His girl is stunning and he loves her more than he can say. All he needed was a reminder of that. This whole thing was a little too close to his old life for him to be comfortable.

Lydia sighs. "Well, Dean… it was a pleasure to meet you but I think I am going to go."

"Oh, you don't have to…."

"Yeah, I do," she smiles comfortingly, handing back his phone. "But can I suggest one thing before I go?"

"What?"

"Put your ring back on," Lydia smirks. "It could save a lot of women like me a lot of embarrassment."

"You're not the one that should be embarrassed." The sincerity in his face isn't lost on her.

Lydia smiles at him before leaning down to drop a sweet kiss on his cheek. "Have a good night."

Dean just smiles at her in return and watches her leave through the front door of the bar.

He's a bit disappointed in himself. Dean was not a cheater. He wasn't. He's never been one. On the rare occasion when he's found himself taken by one single woman (Cassie back in the day, Lizzy once they figure out that they truly were in love) the last thing ever on his mind is looking elsewhere for companionship in any way.

But circumstances are vastly different right now than they've ever been. He and Lizzy have never been so separated by space and length of time before now. To say it's been challenging would be a massive misgiving. He misses having someone there to talk to and laugh with. He misses the camaraderie Lizzy brings and the ease he feels around her… felt around her. He hasn't been at ease around his own wife in so long… even if he'd give anything to feel that again.

And he's missed the simplicity of touch. It used to be that when he needed that he would just go out, find a willing girl, and get what he needed. No, it didn't always fully satisfy his itch but it would do the trick well enough. And then, once he had Lizzy, that itch never went unscratched for long… until recently. It's been forever that he's felt calmed by her presence, felt her skin and it didn't make him second guess everything they know of each other.

His mind flashes back to times when it was easy and it felt incredible to be with her. That time they spent a whole day in bed at Bobby's. She was spectacular. The way her body moved against his, anticipating everything he did. How she could practically read his mind and know what he wanted every step of the way. She wasn't afraid to push him and she was just as invested in his pleasure as he was hers. It was perfect compatibility in every sense of the word compatibility.

And to this day the mere thought of her smooth skin buried in bed linen next to him can make him embarrassingly hard even in public.

He doesn't know how they let it get this far but Dean's done thinking. He said he needed a few days to sort it out but all he needed was a few hours with a very sexy woman at a bar to remind him of what he already has. Lizzy's got a razor sharp tongue and it has cut him deep and done it enough times to make him want to run… but he won't. He can't. Those were just words after all.

All he has ever wanted was his L and he's not letting that go.

Reaching into his inner jacket pocket, Dean pulls out his ring. He looks it over, the nicks and gouges in it from a hard life are obvious yet beneath it all he can see what it once was, the luster and shine it had when he swiped it from a jewelry place at nineteen, looking for an always available bottle opener. It's like a really obvious and cheesy metaphor for his relationship with the only woman meant for him. That sturdy, always there ring that, even though it's seen it all and come out dented and worn, it's still strong as ever. Somewhere in his marriage is that ring. They're still good somehow and, even if it takes the rest of his damned life to find it, he will. He'll find them again.

He's not giving up.

Dean huffs a laugh as he studies the piece a little more and speaks to himself. "I still love the crap outta my wife. No shit."

He slides the ring back onto his finger like Lydia asked him to and pulls out his wallet. He drops a few twenties onto the table to cover the hefty bill of an upper class martini bar and starts to stand up when the front door of the bar opens and he's caught completely off guard by the new customer, freezing in place with shock.

Lizzy.

His wife makes instant eye contact with him and smiles wide, the toothy grin he's seen a million times in their past making his heart skip. He hasn't seen that in so long.

She's wearing heels, red ones that click on the industrial cement floor of the high class place as she makes her way right to him, making Dean's head spin with utter confusion.

"L?" Dean asks as she reaches him, the black trench coat she's wearing hugging her body and her hair piled high and loose, making her look nothing like what he's used to… as if that matters in the moment.

"Hi," she says with confidence, her hands in her pockets as he observes her, her heart beating rapidly with fear that he'll see right through her before she can get all the information she needs to pull this off.

"You're back to black," he nods at her hair, seeing her old color once more making an appearance.

"Oh, uh…." She touches her hair nervously, not sure what to say to this.

"I knew that blonde wasn't gonna last," Dean laughs a little, knowing how much Lizzy hated having to dye her hair a color she never wanted to rock, but really he's cringing on the inside. Small talk? Really?

"Yeah, you know me, honey," she huffs, sharing a dazzling grin with him.

"Honey…?" Dean starts to asks, knowing Lizzy's never seriously called him that specific nickname. That was a Lou name to use and it sounded odd coming from her. He doesn't get to finish his inquiry into the odd moment before she closes the space between them and kisses him hard, pulling him in by the lapels of his suit coat.

She takes her time, using this contact to get a good read on him. All she had to go by before now is what Dean's wife looked like. If she's going to get what she wants she needs to know more… or really, all of it. She needs to be Lizzy.

Downloading his past with his wife… or L, as he calls her… she almost freaks when she realizes who he is.

He lied. He's no businessman. He's a hunter in a cheap ass suit. A married hunter. He wasted her entire night when she has deadlines to meet and to add to that he's here to kill her and her kind. This bastard is going down, she thinks as her anger at his dishonesty and how it affects her starts to really settle in.

Once she knows what she needs to know to sufficiently make this grift work, she ends the heated kiss and pulls away, looking at him with a smile and total sappy love in her eyes.

"Wait… L…." Dean stutters as his brain tries to catch up with what's happening. "The hell are you doing here? How'd you even know where I was?"

"Called Sam," she easily answers, knowing a whole lot about him now. "He let me know."

"But I just talked to you hours ago on the phone…."

"We were only a state over," she shrugs with innocence.

"Where's Sammy?"

"With Lou."

Dean nods, accepting the answer.

"I drove here alone. We need… us." She prays she's saying the right things. "I didn't like how we left things."

"Me neither," Dean says, sitting back down in his chair while looking at her hands as they weave into his.

"And I think… that we need to… reconnect," she says, emphasizing that last word for effect.

Dean smiles and huff a laugh. "I would love nothing more than that… trust me." He eyes her over to prove it. "But I think we need to talk some things over first."

"No," she tells him quickly.

"No?"

"I didn't come here for just a few hours to talk," Lizzy's voice tells him as she steps forward, her eyes on his lips deliberately and obviously. She places his hands on her ass before running her fingers over his shoulders and around his neck. As she plays with the short hair at the base of his neck she says in a sultry voice, "Unless the talking is about what I plan on doing to you once I get you alone."

She runs her tongue along the seam of his lips and he groans low and quiet with the move. It's been so long since she's tried anything like this with him and it's working far too well. He's jumping internally to take her on the floor of the bar right then and there.

But he has reservations.

"It's just… there's a lot I have to say… and…."

"Hot Shot?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut the fuck up," she tells him and presses her lips to his once more, this time letting her tongue slowly massage his in the most sexy, enticing way she can muster.

"Shutting up now," Dean says before kissing her again, his hands pulling her closer out of instinct. God damn, she feels like perfection in his hands, her warmth so inviting and her mouth… fuck he needs her.

And he catches the scent of her once she's pressed against him completely. She smells… like flowers. He doesn't know what kind but it's definitely flowers. She never smells like flowers. Ever. That's not her thing. His Lizzy has always been strawberries, vanilla, and something extremely comforting.

And she can feel him pulling away, making her worry.

"L, this is… I didn't expect this. Like, at all," he admits.

"We're… crumbling," Lizzy admits to him, keeping her arms around his neck. "And expected is clearly not working. So this is my peace offering… or, my Hail Mary pass or whatever."

Dean's mouth quirks up in the corner. "Seducing your husband in a martini bar is the Hail Mary?"

"No..." she smiles and puts a hand in her trench coat pocket. When she pulls it out she holds up a pair of very lacy black panties. "This is my Hail Mary." She then smiles wide as she pushes them into the breast pocket of his jacket.

And Dean watches with his jaw hung low with shock. "I… I… seriously?"

Lizzy just smiles.

"Are you naked under that coat," he questions quietly, eyes narrowed with total hopeful surprise.

Lizzy leans into his ear to whisper, "Why don't you come with me and find out, baby?"

Eyes bursting out of his head, Dean locks his sights onto her brown ones and can't believe what he's seeing. "That is some peace offer."

"You like?"

"Oh, daddy like," Dean answers and practically hops out of his seat, making Lizzy giggle slightly.

"Well then… come with me, daddy," Lizzy grins before taking his hand and turning away from him, leading him to the front doors. The second she's facing away she rolls her eyes at his lame words.

"Where to?" Dean questions despite not exactly caring.

"We're getting a room," Lydia tells him, ready to hit the closest hotel in the city and get this done, looking to get revenge on not only a dishonest man but a hunter there to catch up with her kind while she's at it.

Every good Amazon knows the importance of playing the game right to get what she wants. Men are simple for the most part. You push the right buttons, say the right things, flirt the right way… and boom, putty in their hands.

Dean is no different, despite the few changes she's had to make in her usual routine to get to him. He's visual, needing the site of his wife pushing her boundaries and giving him something new in order to drop his guard enough to just go along with her. He also needed reassurance. Deep in there is a wounded little boy that wants to be loved. On the way to the hotel a few blocks over she told him more than once that she still loved him and just wanted to fix how broken they are… since she could tell that's all he needed.

It worked like a charm.

So now, as she checks them into the decent hotel they came across randomly, she looks back over her shoulder at him. She's leaning against the wall next to the elevators, waiting for her. She catches him checking her out yet again, undoubtedly picturing her in all her glory underneath the trench coat she's wearing. When he reaches her eyes again they're burning for her, that being the only thing giving him away as his stance is casual, ankles crossed and hands in pockets.

She smiles and hands over a credit card.

And Dean's heart is still going a mile a minute. How did this happen? He's still very confused but he has to admit he's not felt this way about his wife in a very long time. It's refreshing and it gives him a hell of a lot of hope.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Dean shoots Sam a text.

Out for the night I think. Don't wait up. And thanks, Sammy. I owe you one.

He sends it off and re-pockets his phone, not planning to look at it again for the night. He's got better things to look at, like his fucking beautiful wife walking right for him in her form-fitting trench coat that shows off her long bare legs… reminding him that she's wearing nothing much else underneath. God fucking damn.

"Let's go," she says, winking at him.

"Let's," he responds in a flirtatious way and pushes the button to call the elevator. They stand side by side, looking at each other in the gold reflective surface of the elevator doors at they wait, smiling like teenagers in anticipation.

The bell rings and the doors slide open. Silently they get in by themselves, Lydia pressing the fourth floor button. When the door closes the flood gates open.

Launching herself onto him, Lydia pulls her arms around his shoulders and crashes her lips against his, Dean yanking her in hard as his back hits the wall. His hands are everywhere, remembering her body quickly with how long it's been. Damn, she's perfect. So perfect.

And Lydia has him good. This couldn't have worked out more perfectly. A hunter to mate with? Strong, sharp, good at what he does… he's the best candidate she could have hoped for.

Dean reaches lower as his tongue quickly snakes into her mouth, his hands meeting the bare skin of the backs of her thighs. His palms slide upwards, testing her promise. He finds the smooth round skin of her perfectly shaped cheeks… and no panties whatsoever.

"Fuck, you're awesome," Dean tells her before nearly devouring her mouth again, his lips unwilling to leave hers for more than a second.

Lydia just giggles in response while pulling his head down to her some more, continuing to kiss him exactly how she believes she should. She can read his experiences, see in her mind the times he's been with his wife Lizzy, and she uses it her advantage. So far he hasn't questioned her. All she has to do now is keep him burning this hot and she'll get what she wants in no time.

The elevator dings once more and the doors open. Dean pushes off the wall of the car and separates the two of them. Lydia takes his hand and pulls him, heading right for the room she rented. She sees it just a few doors down and reaches it in no time, their feet moving quickly with anticipated want. Taking out the key card, Lydia slides it into the lock while Dean's arms come around her waist from behind. As she can feel his lips landing on the side of her neck Lydia looks down, watching Dean's hands untie the knot of her coat belt. Yes, she smiles. Right where she wants him.

Quickly she spins around to face him, yanking his face down to hers. She plants her lips on his while backing through the door, making his frenzy continue. They barge into the room together, Dean kicking the door shut while Lydia unceremoniously shoves his jacket down his arms. She lets it fly to the floor and the second it's off she's pulling his tie open, yanking it through the collar of his crisp white button down.

Dean's eyes look at her when he pulls his lips away from hers for a second, the dark and excited look of awe all over her. She's really going for it, needing him so much that she's on the attack. And it's turning him on more than she's turned him on in so long.

When he reaches for the buttons of her coat Lydia shoves him away, staring him down with something predatory when he gives her a surprised expression, his feet stumbling backward into the room. She then grabs the buttoned front of his shirt and tears it open, a few buttons popping off and bouncing across the carpet.

"Jesus," Dean says with surprise, wide eyes glued to her.

Tugging his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, baring his entire front of his torso to her, Lydia then pushes him back once more, this time making Dean back up a few steps with the force.

"What's gotten into you?" Dean says with still running wonder over this woman in front of him. She feels like his Lizzy but her actions are nothing he'd ever expect from her right now… not that he's complaining.

"You… hopefully," she gives her snappy retort with a sultry tone, swiftly unbuttoning her coat before letting it drop to the floor behind her, her naked form standing there with nothing more than her red pumps.

"Son of a bitch," Dean sighs out, his knees weakening with the sight of her there. Her light skin so perfect, her tattoos standing out and reminding him of the badass she really is, her curves begging to be touched… his mouth waters as he grasps his belt and opens it as quickly as he can and toes out of his wingtips. He drops his pants to the floor in one swift move before standing there in just his boxer briefs, breathing heavy as he waits for her next move. She's made it clear that she's in the driver's seat and for once he's not going to complain in the least.

Lydia walk up to him and immediately grabs the waist of his boxers. "Nothing."

She pushes them down to the floor quickly before standing tall, eyeing him as sincerely as she can manage.

"Damn it, I've missed you," Dean says to her, reaching for her jaw to pull her in and kiss her again. He only expects her to go with it or at least return the sentiment with some form of 'I missed you too'. Instead he gets a shove in the chest one more time. He falls onto his back on the bed in the room, letting out a sound of surprise when he does.

"I know," Lydia says with full confidence, crawling over him instantly. She can tell he truly does miss his actual wife but right now that doesn't matter to her so much. She has a mission to complete, just like her sisters.

Dean moves backwards up the bed as she meets him, straddling his hips quickly. Dean reaches out for her hand, twining his fingers with her to get just an ounce of that connection they used to have back, but Lydia doesn't need that from him. She's not Lizzy so she doesn't see or feel that love he does. Instead she presses his hand into the pillow beside his head and keeps it there with her strength. She leans over him, making him relax back under her, kissing him again and directing their every move.

"You changed your shampoo," Dean tells her, looking to his side and meeting her eyes as they lie next to each other naked in bed and quite sated.

"Hm?" Lydia asks, not sure what he means.

"Your hair smells different," he tells her, both with their heads resting on their own pillows and bodies covered in the linens of the nice hotel bed. "I don't think your hair's ever smelled different from the day I met you."

"Oh, uh… yeah," she smiles slightly, her hand under the sheets and on her abdomen. Job well done. She can already tell. And for that reason she has to get out of this room before the changes start to show.

"I like it," he says, not wanting to upset her. He doesn't know where exactly they stand right now. "But…" He reaches out, knotting his hand into her hair before pressing his palm to her cheek affectionately. "I miss the old stuff."

Her face jumps with discomfort. "I'll have to switch back then."

Dean huffs a laugh, liking the idea that she's promising to do that just because he preferred the old stuff. That's a good sign, right?

Lydia pats the hand on her cheek lightly a couple times before grasping it. She pulls it forward, pressing a sweet kiss into his palm before dropping it. Getting out of bed wordlessly, she heads for the bathroom while gathering her coat and shoes.

"Where you off to?" Dean asks her, leaning up on his elbows to watch her round ass as she bends down to pick up her things.

"Bathroom," she says with a smirk and walks for the door, her hips swaying all the while. She disappears, the door shutting behind her, and Dean leans back with a sigh.

He needed that. Hell, he didn't even know how badly he needed that until right now. Suddenly life feels lighter, easier, less stressed. And he and Lizzy were able to be in each other's presence, able to rekindle the heat between them, without a single fight or disagreement or ill will developing in that time.

This is all positive. This is all promising. And now he just needs to tell her that he's still so crazy about her that he's willing to try his hardest to keep her in his life. He doesn't want out.

When the bathroom door opens he's highly disappointed to see her with her coat and heels back on.

"What… you're leaving?" Dean asks with alarm as he sits up in bed, the panic in his chest strong with the idea of missing her all over again.

"Sammy," she shrugs and reaches for her hair clip on the floor. That one word should be a sufficient enough answer for him, Lydia well aware of how much he loves his son.

"Lou can watch him a few hours longer," Dean suggests with hope. "Just… L, I kinda wanted you to stick around for a little, even just an hour."

Lydia looks at him, the puppy-eyes filled with hurt that she'd go so soon giving her pause for just a second. Yes, she's an Amazon and no she doesn't respect the male gender in the least… but she does have a heart. The poor man is so desperate for his wife to show him love and to stay with him longer that it almost hurts.

Almost. But not enough to keep her there and pretend to be the woman she's not any longer than she already has. She could start showing any second and he's now scheduled to die within the week at this point anyways. No need to get attached.

"I shouldn't," she answers, twirling her hair and clipping it back up.

Dean's face wrinkles, never having seen her hair up this way before tonight. It's odd. She's strictly a ponytail person if her hair is ever up at all. "I wanted to talk to you."

"When we talk… it isn't half as good as when we don't," Lizzy's voice tries to joke as she nods to the bed he's in. "Let's not ruin our first good meeting in…." She just waves her hand and lets the statement die there.

"L." His face wrinkles. "I need you to know… I'm not giving up. I know what I said before and I want to fight for this."

"Ok," Lizzy nods and smiles, tying the belt of her coat tighter.

"Ok?" Dean questions her nonchalance. "That's what you have to say in return?"

She smiles at him and walks to the side of the bed he's on. Lydia leans over and kisses his lips in parting. "No talking, remember?"

"But I…."

"No talking," she repeats, pressing her fingertips to his mouth to get him to stop. "Let's just enjoy that this was as fun as it was. Call me in a few days."

Lydia stands up tall, smiling all the while, and heads for the door.

"I love you, Lizzy," Dean tries one last time, needing to at the very least say that to her.

"You too, Hot Shot," she says over her shoulder as she opens the door. She leaves the room.

When the sound of the door clicking shut echoes in the room Dean sighs. What the hell just happened here? Why does he feel more unsettled than he should over actually seeing his wife for once?