Fran crouched over the dead wendigo, she twisted and wrenched the silver stake from the creature's heart and held it up, "You want the heart Dean or should I take it?"

Dean was miles away from noticing any of that, he was laser focused on his old flame that blew into town on a job. She hooked up with the Winchesters and Dean thought she never looked better.

Her white tank top was stained with gore and the pert breasts were right there for the taking complete with stiff nipples that Dean had many good memories sucking and fondling.

…..

A light flashed in the angry blue eyes of the angel, "Look at him Sam…staring at her nipples…disgusting, who wears a white tank top on a hunt?"

Sam was also eyeing Fran's cans, as Dean loved to call them, "You know, just every single girl in every horror movie ever made. She didn't do any slow motion running so that was a disappointment."

…..

Dean leaned on the bar next to her, they both had their asses stuck out and hips touching. Castiel heard Dean laughing and the beer bottles clink together as they swapped war stories.

Sam was at a table doing shots with the angel, he knew Castiel was about to blow and the hunter wanted to be good and drunk when it happened.

"Sam she sticks her rear out like she wants to be mounted, who is this woman and why does Dean enjoy her company so much?"

"Look at her Cas…Fran is hot as hell and she can hunt, I'm achieving wood just thinking about her."

Castiel drummed his fingers on the table, "So if I dress like a whore and kill things Dean will want me is that what you're saying? Well I already have killed for him so I suppose I need to dress in the manner of a male prostitute. Thank you for the advice Sam."

"Um…no, what I said was…"

The angel was already gone.

Castiel burst in the door of the bar in full on leather, pants so obscenely low that the swell of his ass was glimpsed by everyone around and in the front a promise of rich, dark curls peeked over the top.

The angel gave off an energy that made the bar full of arrow straight men confused and as Castiel walked by one by one they felt lost.

The angel tapped Dean on the shoulder and when the hunter turned around those pretty green eyes shot open. Suddenly Fran's cans were gone from Dean's mind.

He looked over the tight black shirt the angel was wearing and the body normally covered by a fortress of clothes was exposed. Dean gasped when the usually reserved angel pushed a knee between Dean's legs and growled, "You are mine, I claim you as my own."

Fran started to protest, she had her own dreams of a night ride on Dean Winchesters disco stick for old times' sake before she blew town but the angel snapped his head toward her, "You have killed? You are a joke, I have killed my own…beings so powerful they could melt that pretty face right off your skull then reduce you to ashes with a single look."

The blue eyes began to build a white flame and that was when Sam jerked her quickly to the door and out of the bar.

Suddenly the angel smiled softly and the hardness was gone, "Am I as attractive as your ex? Dean, do I make you excited when I'm tough and dress like a whore?"

There was the look, Castiel the blue eyed kitten mewling at Deans boot heels desperate for attention and for a moment the balance almost shifted.

Dean nodded toward the door, "Well I was planning on getting laid tonight."

Tough Cas came back, drabbed Dean under the arms and dragged him to the door, boots scraping across the floor, "Good I hope you like the view on your back."

("Dress in the manner of a male prostitute" line is from "Mystery Men"…I knew I'd get to use it someday.)