Author's Note: For anyone reading out there, would love to know what you think of young Mer and Dean.

Mer stopped by the station late in the afternoon, half hoping her dad would be out in the field and her promise to Nicole would be unfulfilled by no fault of her own. To her dismay, the officer at the front desk waved her inside welcomingly, telling her the Chief was in his office.

She knocked tentatively at the door and, when invited, opened it to reveal her father at his desk and John and Dean seated in the chairs opposite.

"Meredith," her father proclaimed sunnily, rising to greet her. They embraced briefly and he stood with his arm around her shoulders. "You two met my beautiful daughter?" he asked to the other two men in the room.

"Yep," Mer answered for them stiffly, like any child being put on display. "When I came by the other day to drop off lunch. Remember?"

"Right, right," the Chief responded. "Well, the three of us were just discussing our findings for the day. I think we've made a break in the case."

"That's great," Meredith replied, smiling politely at John and Dean. "Er…sorry to interrupt. I was just leaving the library and thought I'd swing by."

"Sam told me he ran into you there yesterday," John commented.

"Yes, sir," Mer responded, nodding.

"He said you helped him on some of his summer assignments," John continued. "He was real appreciative—seemed quite enthusiastic about it, actually."

"Classic Sammy, getting all hot and bothered about homework," Dean joked.

"That's a smart boy you've got," Mer told John, ignoring Dean's jibe. "Some of the stuff he was working on was pretty advanced—and I just finished up my third year at Davis."

"Did you really?" John wondered, in a glazed sort of way. "Good for you." He stood from his chair. "Sorry to be rude, Meredith—but Chief, I just realized there's another theory I wanted to discuss with you."

"Can you walk and talk?" Mer's dad asked. "I could use a cup of coffee."

John nodded and followed him out toward the kitchen.

"Did I crash the party in here?" Mer wondered, looking at Dean in question.

"Nah," Dean replied. "My dad always prefers to save his real theories for when 'the adults are talking.'"

Mer made a face, though she saw a potential loophole for herself. "Wait…you are an adult, right?"

"In a father's eyes?" Dean responded, giving her a look.

"Right," Mer said, having to admit she knew where he was coming from. She cleared her throat. "Anyway, assuming you are an adult—of legal drinking age—I actually came by to see if you wanted to tag along with my friends and me tonight. We're going downtown to the bars for a buddy's birthday."

Dean's eyebrows shot up.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," she was quick to say, rehearsed and ready.

"You want me to come out with you and your friends," Dean confirmed, giving her a poorly-hidden arrogant look, as if he had known this was coming.

Mer let out an exasperated sigh. Nicole had better thank her for this. "It's just that this morning when I saw you walk by the cafe, I got to thinking…you go from town to town kicking around with guys our dads' age—"

"How'd you know that?" Dean interjected defensively.

"Your brother and I got to chatting yesterday," Mer replied in explanation. "He told me you guys are practically gypsies."

"What else did he tell you?" Dean demanded.

His tone and the way he looked at her made Mer uneasy and simultaneously curious. Who was this John Winchester—a supposed "longtime friend" of her father's she had never heard of—and his boys?

"Nothing," Mer insisted. "Geez."

Dean seemed to catch himself. "Anyway, you were saying?"

"Well, no offense, but that sounds pretty damn boring—especially if you have older guys talking over you all day," Mer finished her thought. "I thought you might not hate the idea of blowing off some steam with people your own age."

Dean regarded her impassively for a moment, the silence broken as her dad and John returned from their coffee run. They came into the room, eyeing their children as if checking to make sure they hadn't heard a final word uttered outside the door.

"What are you two chatting about?" her dad asked, raising his eyebrows at Mer.

"I was just inviting Dean here to join us for Luke's birthday party tonight," Mer explained.

"You going out drinking with your friends again?" her dad asked disapprovingly. "Don't you go turning into a lush on me."

Mer resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "We're twenty-one, it's the thing to do," she retorted shortly, this argument wearing on her. Her dad drank all he wanted, but was quick to judge she and her mom as 'intemperate women,' in his own words. "Besides, before you interrupted, I was just about to tell Dean that I'm sober driving for Nicole tonight and I could pick him up at…?"

"The Sunrise Motel," John answered. When this warranted an alarmed look from his son, he took on an exasperated one. "Ah, come on, Dean. What? You'd rather drink alone at the nearest dive bar than take this lovely young woman up on her offer?"

Dean was looking at the ground, the faintest trace of red in his cheeks. "Fine, I'll go," he replied finally, begrudgingly. He looked back up at Mer, a wincing smile on his face. "Thank you."

"I'll see you at eight," Mer told him, backing out of the room much more slowly than she would have liked to. As she left the station she thought that Nicole had better kiss her feet for the amount of pride she had just had to swallow.

—

At a quarter past eight, Mer pulled up to the Sunrise Motel. It was a dingy place on the outskirts of the city. As she angled her way into a parking space, she realized she hadn't asked for a room number—or a phone number. Tentatively, she tapped her horn, the sound disproportionately blaring. Hopefully he'd hear it the first time.

While she waited, she flipped down her sun visor and observed her face in the mirror. Reaching into the cupholder, she pulled out a tube of lipstick and began applying it. The passenger door handle clicked as someone tried to open it. She looked over to see Dean standing just outside. She leaned to her right and unlocked his door, righting herself and capping her lipstick.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologized as he got into the car. "I forgot how far out here this place is."

"It's okay," Dean grunted, settling into his seat. "For a minute I thought you weren't gonna show."

"Well, sorry to disappoint," Mer joked, cracking a smile. She put the car in reverse, but glanced over at Dean before taking her foot off the brake.

"What?" Dean questioned.

"Seat belt," Mer said, as if it were obvious.

"Wow, you really are a cop's daughter," Dean replied, smirking slightly.

"No, I just like my head not getting bashed in in the event of a wreck," Mer insisted snappily.

Dean snorted. "Oh-kay," he responded, flagging his eyebrows.

They drove in silence for a few blocks before Dean spoke up. "So, these friends of yours…are they cool?" he wondered.

Mer chuckled. "I don't know, do I seem like the kind of person who would hang out with cool people?" she countered.

Dean actually looked over at her, as if this was some sort of appraisal. Then, he glanced around the car, noticing the personal artifacts she had stashed about. He reached forward and turned up the volume on her car's stereo, a rock station blasting through the speakers.

"So?" Mer asked, darting looks at him amusedly as he investigated.

Dean turned the volume back down and sat back in his seat. "You check out all right," he replied. She got the sense that he might be as amused as she was at this game.

"I can live with that," Mer admitted, nodding. "Now, turn that back up. I think I liked that one."

One corner of Dean's mouth drew up as he cranked the volume once again.

When they passed the packed bars on one of the main drags downtown, Dean let out a sort of "hmmph."

"What?" Mer wondered, pulling down a side street she knew to be good for parking.

"We're actually gonna do this, huh?" Dean asked.

Mer pulled up to the curb, maneuvering to parallel park. "What do you mean?"

"We're actually going to this bar with all your friends," Dean replied.

"Um…yeah?" Mer responded as she putting the car in park and cutting the engine. "I don't really understand what you're asking."

"I'm just saying, I don't mind skipping all that, you know? No pretense is fine with me," Dean tried. Then, as Mer continued to look confused, "I mean, we could just go and park somewhere…"

Mer let out a laugh. "Oh my God," she proclaimed, understanding washing over her. She laughed again. "You think that's why I invited you out?"

"Well, y-yeah," Dean stammered, trying unsuccessfully to hide his embarrassment. "I mean, isn't it?"

"No," Mer replied, shaking her head. "I'm kinda seeing someone."

"Hey, that hasn't stopped me before," Dean insinuated suavely.

"No, you know what? I don't know why I said that," Mer said, catching herself. She angled in her seat to look at Dean more fully. "I'm not seeing anyone—not really. I'm just not interested. So, please, don't give anymore thought to trying to get in my pants tonight."

"But you're not even wearing pants," Dean teased, having regained some of his composure. He gestured at her denim mini skirt.

Mer let out a sigh, her eyes flicking momentarily upward. "Cute," she deadpanned, swiveling back around and opening her door to get out.

Together, they walked toward the congested street where bar- and restaurant-goers filled the sidewalks. By the way Dean kept sneaking side-eyed glances at her, she could tell he knew she was annoyed.

"So, you're not one for bullshit," Dean stated rather than asked.

Mer shook her head. "Nope," she returned shortly. "I think you'd be surprised to find that most women aren't. Some are just better at entertaining it."

"Right," Dean grunted.

They shouldered their way past the evening crowd until Mer stopped in the doorway of their destination, waving Dean along with her.

When they walked in, the sound of ricocheting pool balls, the clink of glasses, and loud conversation met them. The Rec Room wasn't one of the trendiest bars on the strip, but it was a staple for Mer and her friends—she was guaranteed to find some or all of her friends there until at least ten on any given weekend night. Some nights, it was good for cheap drinks and a couple games of pool before they were onto the next thing; on other nights they closed the place down. No matter what, it was always a good rendezvous point.

Mer beelined it for the back, seeing her friends gathered around the furthest pool table. She was greeted first by Nicole, who squealed in delight at the sight of her. Embracing her, the brunette whispered over her shoulder, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Pulling back, Mer bobbed her eyebrows at her friend. "You owe me," she told her. "Big time."

Nicole giggled quietly and looked past Mer. "Aren't you gonna introduce us to your friend, Meredith?" she asked, audibly enough so the whole group could hear.

Mer turned to see Dean standing awkwardly at the fringe of the group, frozen like a startled animal.

"Guys, this is Dean," Mer introduced simply, gesturing toward her guest. "He's a family friend—and he's looking to do some damage to his liver tonight like the rest of us."

Dean smiled tightly as he was received with muddled greetings; the most enthusiastic of which came from the women in the group. Nicole saw her window and swooped in, sidling up to Dean before anyone else could.

"Hey," Mer heard at her elbow. She turned to see Vince, already going in for the hug.

She embraced him back and muffled out a "Hi" over his shoulder.

The hug lasted a little longer than she was used to and when he let her go his hands slid down onto her hips, holding her there in front of him. "I was trying to call you," he told her. "Wasn't sure when you were showing up."

"Oh, yeah…I know Luke said eight," Mer responded. "But Dean's staying way out on the edge of town and picking him up took a little longer than expected."

"What's his deal, anyway?" Vince asked, nodding over Mer's shoulder toward Dean.

"Like I said, family friend," Mer explained. "Sort of. His dad is working with my dad right now and he looked bored out of his mind when I stopped by the station today."

"That was nice of you," Vince told her, in what she guessed was supposed to be a fawning way. "My little humanitarian."

Mer grimaced, but tried to pass it off with a chuckle.

"Hey, Meredith, you want anything?" Dean's voice called behind her.

"What?" Meredith questioned, craning her head over her shoulder to look at him.

"I'm headed to the bar," Dean elaborated, talking over her friends' heads. "I can get you something."

"Um…" Mer stole a glance at Vince, feeling restrained with his hands holding fast to her hips. Though she didn't relish the idea of being alone with Dean again, she pried herself from his grasp. "I'll go with you," she offered.

"I thought you were driving," Vince tried, reluctant to let her go but attempting to pull it off as cute.

"Yeah, at, like, two," Mer snorted. "One beer." She stepped away from him and fled toward the bar, following Dean's brown leather jacket as he cut through the crowd.

They bellied up to the bar beside each other. "I like your Ken doll," Dean joked.

"Shut up," Mer retorted.

"He the jealous type?" Dean wondered, raising his eyebrows in a knowing way.

"What?" No," Mer replied. "I mean, it's new. I don't know what type he is yet."

When she caught Dean looking at her, unconvinced, she went on. "Vince is a nice guy, but I'm sure it can't be easy when the girl who's left you hanging shows up with a hot dude you've never seen before."

"You think I'm hot?" Dean mused.

"Anyone with eyes can see that you're hot—even Vince," Mer responded, unamused. "Has no one ever told you you're generically good looking?"

"Never like that," Dean responded, crooked smile on his face as he regarded her.

"Well, there you go," Mer said, shrugging exasperatedly. "As for Vince…he's just feeling insecure."

"Well, now that he can't see, let me buy you that beer. Least I can do," Dean told her, getting out his wallet.

"I'm gonna pay for my drink," Mer stated plainly. "After the little mix-up we had, I don't want you getting the wrong idea—and I definitely don't want to feel like I owe you something."

Dean's eyebrows rose up for a moment, before descending into a slightly repentant look. "Look, Meredith," he leveled. "I'm sorry, I was way the hell out of line. I'm not used to a chick inviting me out like this. It usually goes a whole other way, but I shouldn't have assumed." He cleared his throat, catching the bartender's eye. "So, if you'll let me, I'd like to buy you a drink to make it up to you. That's all."

"Fine," Mer relinquished. "I'll have whatever you're having."

Dean told the bartender their order, paid, and then stood with his back to the bar while he waited. "So, why are you leaving him hanging?" he asked.

Mer crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the bar as she thought. "Because I'm gonna leave him hanging in the end, anyway," she replied simply. "I'm back to California at the end of the summer."

Dean mulled this over. "There's always long-distance," he advised.

"It's not that," Mer revised. "It's just…" She took on a slightly frustrated look, not having been able to articulate this to anybody clearly. "He's here, you know? He's lived here all his life and he doesn't have plans to change that. He's so here that he doesn't realize that I'm not. This isn't where my life is anymore, and it's not where I want it to be. I think it's hard for someone like him, someone so…settled? Content, maybe?—to see that." She let out a small laugh. "Does that make any sense?"

"A ton, actually," Dean admitted, thoughtful. "You know, I move around a lot. And, in my experience, you've just gotta be honest. If I were you, I'd tell him straight up."

"How does that usually work out for you?" Mer wondered.

"Depends," Dean responded. "It's amazing the amount of people that don't understand or flat out refuse to believe something you're telling them. You can't control when someone wants to make up a different version in their head."

Mer nodded thoughtfully.

"So, is Davis it for you then?" Dean wondered. "Are you there?"

"I don't know about 'it,' Mer answered. "But it's where I am right now. I feel like I've grown into a whole new person there. Which is maybe why being here feels so wrong."

The bartender handed their beers across the bar to Dean. He gave Mer hers and offered his own for a cheers.

She clinked her pint glass to his and took a sip, feeling considerably more comfortable in his presence after clearing the air. "It's not even like I have some crazy wanderlust-driven fantasy of traveling the world or anything," she continued with her thoughts. "I'm fine with settling—would prefer to have a place to call home. It's just hard to not know where that is at this point."

"Yeah," Dean responded, about to say more when he remembered: "Shoot. I was supposed to get something for Nicole."

"Rum and Coke's usually her thing," Mer offered helpfully.

"Right, that was it," Dean said, snapping his fingers. He turned back to the bar and ordered.

Again, they poised themselves to wait, both leaning against the bar and observing the crowd. "She's cute," Dean commented, nodding toward the back corner where Mer's friends amassed. "Nicole, I mean."

"Mmhmm," Mer agreed, decidedly silent as she sipped her beer.

"Okay, what?" Dean questioned, angling toward her slightly.

"I don't know what you're…" Mer shook her head, trying her best to look unassuming.

"You got nothing to say about that? Really?" Dean prodded, raising his eyebrows. "What about no bullshit?"

Mer let out an exasperated sound. "I'm trying to be cool, okay? Who am I to ruin someone's path to rebound sex? Nicole should be able to do what she wants."

"Should?" Dean picked out.

Mer took another gulp of her beer, taking her time swallowing it down. "I guess I'm feeling protective," she admitted. "She got dumped last night. I literally had to pick her up from her ex's place at two in the morning. She thinks she knows what she wants. But…I don't know, I think it'll just end up hurting more than helping."

"Okay, then I'll lay off," Dean decided, sipping his beer with his eyes still on Nicole across the bar.

"What? Really?" Mer asked. Her head snapped in his direction, completely taken off guard.

"Yeah," Dean replied, shrugging.

"I mean, I didn't really ask—"

"But you wanted to." He glanced at her sagely. "Meredith, you invited me here. I'm not gonna go getting mixed up with your friend when you don't want me to. I'm not a total dick."

Mer's eyes shot up and she leaned back against the bar, nodding appreciatively. The bartender came back with Nicole's rum and Coke and they gradually made their way back into the throng.

"You can call me Mer, by the way," Mer told Dean as they walked back toward the group. "It's kind of what I go by these days."

"All your friends call you Meredith," Dean pointed out.

"Old habits die hard," Mer replied, chagrined. "I guess I should say it's what I go by at Davis."

Dean cracked a smile. "It's like you're split in two, Mer," he commented teasingly.