Disclaimer: Only own the naughty tub girl, Stephanie. Not the Winchesters...damn.

A/N: Okay, so this is technically getting posted on sunday morning instead of saturday night...but I opened this thing and me and SciFiRN apparantly wrote it in our sleep, because it made no sense. So we had to fix.

SciFiRN; I'm going to steal your words and give them back to you...*clears throat* I love you and all you do. But, really you know I do, hon.

Onward...


Stephanie stood just inside the room, a towel wrapped around her. "The fuck's your problem, anyway?" Her voice was complete curiosity.

Dean turned around. "My problem right now is, that you need to get dressed before Sam comes back."

"Don't fuck with me, Dean. I'll give the boy a hell of a show the second he walks in that door." She tossed out angrily as she glared at him, still near the bathroom door.

Dean shook his head. "My immediate problem is you need to get dressed. You dress, we'll talk." He settled into one of the chairs beside the table. His eyebrow raised in challenge. "And for the record, I'm really not sure what problem you're referring to."

Stephanie watched him in amazement, totally at a loss for words with his arrogance and stupidity. She moved purposely across the room to stand directly in front of his chair.

She leaned forward and rested her hands above each of his shoulders, gripping the back of the chair. "Really?" She eased herself down until she was straddling his lap. "You're honestly going to tell me that you have no clue what I'm talking about?"She pulled the towel from her body and tossed it onto the bed.

Dean's hands settled instinctively on her hips and he was startled by her sudden nakedness. He smirked when Stephanie ground down against him. He was interested in what he saw, but his body hadn't quite caught up with his brain yet.

Stephanie was a little shocked by the lack of hardness between them and she rolled her hips again. "I'm talking about this bullshit you've suddenly started to spout about 'being hard to get'." She rested her hands on his shoulders. "When the fuck has Dean Winchester ever been hard to get. You and I both know that you fuck girls so fast it makes their head spin. So, tell me, what makes me any different from them?"

Dean's grip tightened on her hips and he shook his head sharply. "You know what my problem is with it and you know what makes you different."

Stephanie glared at him and then stood; she grabbed her towel from the bed and wrapped it around her body. "This is about my age again isn't it?"

Dean sighed, "Look Steph..."

She interrupted, "Isn't it?" She shook her head. "Answer me, Dean!"

He stood and faced her. "Of course it's about your age! What did you think it was about?!" He tried to calm his voice. "Let's not forget the fact that you're Bobby's niece and the man can and probably will send me downstairs ahead of schedule if he found out. But, no. You're right. It is mostly about your age."

Stephanie looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite make out. "Go fuck yourself, Dean." She turned, grabbed her duffle, then she paused and spun back to face him. "So your dick's not hard because you suddenly have a conscious. You got off once, felt me up and now you just don't want me anymore?"

He groaned and struggled not to roll his eyes. "Steph, it's just that..well, you are young and Bobby's a friend and the closest thing to a father Sam and I have left. I just don't feel like I can hurt him that way."

Stephanie's eyebrows furled in anger. "Again, fuck you." She turned and headed to the bathroom. She paused at the door and faced him again, a glimmer of tears in her eyes. "You know what? You can deny it all you want, but so help me, I'm going to make you get over this hang up you have about my age." She entered the bathroom and closed the door. Dean heard the lock slide into place, but he didn't hear her final words. "One way or another Dean Winchester, you're going to get over it."

Knowing she still needed new bandages, Stephanie left the bathroom in panties and her camisole. She glared daggers at the man lying on the bed closest to the door before she pulled her laptop out and flopped down on Sam's bed. She lay on her left side, facing the other bed and then opened the computer.

Dean sat up and looked at her. "Steph?" When he didn't get an answer he called her name again, "Hey, Steph?"

There was no response and no indication that she'd even heard him speaking to her. She keyed in her password and waited for her computer to start up.

Dean made a slightly disgusted, slightly angry sound in the back of his throat. "What? You suddenly won't sit near me?" Again no response and his frustration rose. "So, you just gonna ignore me now?"

Stephanie's eyes didn't move from the computer screen. "That's the general idea, yeah."

He sighed and wiped a hand over his face. She was frustrating him on so many levels. "So what, you're not gonna sleep with me tonite either?"

Her eyes flashed to his for a second and she shook her head. "No, what I said before hasn't changed. Sam's still freakishly larger, I'm not waking up tangled in that."

Dean laughed and teased, "What makes you think I'll let you sleep with me though. With you acting this way and all."

This time Stephanie's eyes didn't stray from the screen. "Fine, then you can sleep in the tub, or sleep on the floor, I don't give a shit."

Dean stared, mouth agape. "Why the hell should I sleep on the floor? You're the one who has a problem sharing my bed."

She rolled her eyes and gave him a look that clearly inferred he suffered from mental retardation. "Never said you had to sleep on the floor, just said that if you're suddenly so set against me sharing your bed then, fuck you. Sleep elsewhere, baby."

Dean frowned. "You've turned over a bitchy leaf, you know that?" He ran an agitated hand through his hair. "You PMSing or what, Sweetheart?"

Stephanie frowned still staring at her computer. "Funny, Winchester...so fucking funny." She flipped him off. "What is with men and blaming every bad mood on PMS?" She slammed the computer shut and turned to face him. "It's not PMS you bastard, it's lack of sex." She smiled and leaned forward, giving him a clear shot down her shirt. "Now, if you care to remedy the situation." She let her legs fall open and licked her lips. "You'll find me so much nicer."

Dean frowned and shook his head.

"Oh, yeah that's right." Stephanie slapped her forehead with her palm. "That would mean you'd be fucking someone younger than you; right, and that's just beyond the great and morally upright Dean Winchester, isn't it?"

Dean shrugged his tight shoulders and rubbed at the tenseness building in his neck. "My god, why didn't I leave you alone when you were quiet." Dean growled. "I should've let you keep ignoring me."

Stephanie stood, moved to the other bed and shoved his shoulder, "You mother fucking jackass; piece of shit bastard. How dare you go all self righteous on me now." She rolled her eyes. "How many barely legal girls have you fucked over the years? Hmm? I mean come on, what's a few fucking months anyway."

He sighed. "Six months, darlin'; try six long months, not a few." Dean groaned and held his head as the headache began to pound behind his eyes. He mumbled under his breath. "Jesus fuckin Christ, get her started and she never stops."

She sneered at him."Fuck six months. What if today was my birthday? Would it make a fucking bit of difference?" Stephanie leaned into Dean as she bent over his knees, her fingers threading through his hair. She bent close to his ear. "Would it?"

Dean pulled back and gently moved Stephanie away from him. He looked up into her face. "It's not, Stephanie. It's now." He sat up and began to stand.

She stepped back as he stood. She planted her hands on her hips, glaring up at him. "What the hell kind of answer is that?"

He shook his head. "The only one I can give you right now...Steph, please don't make this any harder than it is?"

She laughed harshly. "That's rich. The only answer? What the fuck then, Dean; stop being such a damn tease." She stepped toward him again and placed a hand on his chest. "Fine. Can you just answer one question truthfully and I'll stop being such a hell bitch?"

He sighed and rested his hand on her shoulder, a finger playing with a strand of her hair. He swallowed and nodded.

She slid her hands around his neck. "Age, Uncle Bobby and your deal aside, Dean. Do you want me?"

Dean's eyes drifted shut. He knew he couldn't lie, not only because he didn't want to hurt her, but also because his body was already betraying him. Why the hell did he agree to answer her question?

He groaned and lightly gripped her shoulders, hands clenching and unclenching. "Fuck baby, wanting you scares me more than anything I've ever hunted." His hands slid gently over her shoulders and down her sides with a barely there touch. He felt her shiver beneath hands. "I want you so damn much, I'm terrified I'm gonna slip up."

Stephanie smiled and reached to pull Dean's lips to her own. She frowned when he reached up and removed her hands from his neck and shook his head.

"No, Steph. I've told you, it's not happening." He took a half a step back.

She growled, her cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment. "See, like I said Winchester, you're a motherfucking tease."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not a tease. You keep throwin' yourself at me, not the other way around."

She stomped her foot like a three year old and stepped toward him. Her voice was gravelly and desperate with emotion. "So catch, motherfucker!"

Dean reached out a hand toward her. "Steph, come on…calm down…"

Stephanie turned sharply away from his hand, walking back to Sam's bed. "Yeah, tell me to calm down you prick." She screwed up her face and lowered her voice. "'I want you so much, baby that I'm scared'…" Stephanie grabbed a pillow from the bed, "Bullshit." She turned and swung it at Dean's head.

She nailed him hard right on the temple. "What the hell was all that shit then?" She pulled back and hit him again. "Huh? You gonna answer me, bitch?" Stephanie winced as she felt something pop on her side, fucking stitches. It hurt and she felt tears press in her eyes, but there was no way she was going to let Dean think they were for him. Fuck no. "You sonovabitch, bastard tease."

Dean raised his arms to cover his head. His voice loud over hers as she continued to scream about him teasing her. "Stop it Steph…" THUMP, he ducked "I swear on everything holy…" SWAT, he tried to turn away "You're gonna fucking regret it…" THUMP-SWAT, he reached for a pillow and turned toward her, dropping his guard and getting nailed so hard in the face he tasted blood. "You are so fucking dea…"

********************************************************

The door slammed shut and two sets of angry eyes turned to the sound.

Sam surveyed the room as he struggled to figure out what was going on. "What the hell? Stephanie you're bleeding all over the fuckin' place."

Sam rushed between the beds and pulled Stephanie off Dean, even as she raised the pillow to strike again. He had to carefully avoid her swinging fists as she growled and cursed at Dean. He pulled the pillow from her hands and dropped it to the floor.

He noticed the gleam of tears in her eyes and turned full glare on his brother. He pointed one long finger in his direction. "You. Drop the pillow and sit the hell down." Then he lifted Stephanie and carried her bridal style to the bathroom.

Sam felt Stephanie's body go completely limp the second he had her cradled in his arms. He frowned when she leaned against his chest and let out a moaning whimper of pain and he couldn't help turning to glare daggers in his brother's direction just for good measure.


A/N: Quite a change from the last chapter, but that was the point. So, tell me what you think; won't know unless you do.