Hope reached for the box, her brain unable to form any coherent response to Dean's proposal. She stared blankly at the ring nestled in the velvet folds as tears dripped silently down her cheeks. It was the last thing in the world she'd ever expected from him, especially now—not to mention the furthest thing from her mind. It wasn't that she hadn't thought about it—no, she'd thought about it more times than she cared to admit to anyone, even herself. Marrying Dean was the one dream she'd resigned herself to believing would never come true, and now here he was, asking her to be his wife. "But why?" was the only thought her brain could spit out, repeating over and over like a never-ending pinball game inside her head.

"Say something," Dean said, his voice hoarse with worry and something Hope couldn't name. "Please?" He shoved his hands in his pockets, watching Hope's expression for any hint of what she might be thinking. She looked up from the box, her eyes locking with his own. He reached up and wiped away the trail of tears from Hope's cheek as she blinked away her unshed tears.

"Are—are you sure? I mean, is this what you really want?" The words felt like glass in Hope's throat as she said them, but she couldn't think of anything else to fill the space, and her head demanded answers, while her heart screamed at her to just say yes already. Saying yes shouldn't be this hard, should it?

Dean didn't answer for a moment, stunned into silence by her question. Of course it was what he wanted, wasn't it? He hadn't really given it much thought before, and he adamantly refused to entertain the idea after he'd walked away from Hope all those years before, but ever since their lives had collided one more, the thought of being without Hope again was more than he could handle. The last two weeks he'd spent away from her had more than proved that—at least to him. He had so much he wanted to say, but only one word escaped his lips. "Yes."

Hope stared at him for a long moment, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came and she closed her eyes for a moment before simply nodding.

Dean's face shattered into a brilliant grin, and he put his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs caressing the skin beneath her t-shirt sleeve. "Really?" he said, his voice thick, "you really mean it?"

"Yes," Hope whispered. "If you're willing to fight for us, then so am I. It's you and me, right?"

Dean pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her. Hope buried her face in his chest, listening to the thudding of his racing heart and letting it calm her own. She always felt like nothing could hurt her here, in the invisible shelter of Dean's arms. Her mind wandered, jerking back to the present as she felt Dean's whispered words ruffle her hair as he spoke again. "And Sam, too?"

Hope snorted, craning her neck to look up at him when he didn't let go of her. "Well," she said with a slight grin, "I'm pretty sure when your dad told you to take care of Sam, that isn't what he meant. Besides, I don't think Sam's interested."

A deep belly laugh burst out of Dean as he threw his head back, releasing Hope and taking a step back to wipe a stray tear from the corner of his eye. "Oh my God, Hope. That's not what I meant," he wheezed, running a hand down his face as he tried to regain some semblance of self-control.

"I know it wasn't," Hope said, grinning at him, "I just love seeing you laugh. But to answer the real question—yes, and Sam too. Not that there was ever a question about that."

"And this is why I love you, Hope Bennett," Dean said, taking her by the hand and gently pulling her toward him before cradling her face in his hands and devouring lips in a kiss that set his soul fire.

"Admit it," Sam teased, cradling his arm behind his head as he stretched out on the bed, "you got a little choked up when Hope said yes. Don't try and deny it."

Aisy turned away from the window where she'd been intently watching the scene outside to glare at Sam. "I'll do no such thing. For all Hope's talk about not being Dean's doormat, she's sure as fuck lets him get away with a lot. I mean seriously, he disappears for two fucking weeks without so much as a 'screw you, so long and thanks for all the fish,' then shows up again, covered in blood and doesn't bother to explain where he's been all that time—only to give some half-assed proposal and she just—" Aisy waved her arms in frustration as Dean took Hope's hand and led her into the other motel room, "agrees? Has she lost her fucking mind?!"

Sam shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. "Tell me how you really feel, Aisy."

"Fuck you, Sam—" Aisy shot back, rounding on him and preparing to give him a piece of her mind. Telling him how she really felt was not an option. She was not going to tell him how her heart raced and her insides turned to mush as she watched Hope say yes to the man she loved—and who obviously loved her—even if he did pick the absolute wrong way to show it at times. There was absolutely no way she could tell Sam how much her heart yearned to have someone look at her the way Dean looked at Hope when he thought no one was paying attention—and the way Sam was looking at her right now.

Shocked into silence, Aisy clamped her mouth shut and spun on her heel, stomping into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. It was her imagination—it had to be. There was no possible way it could be anything else because she'd all but beaten it into her thick skull that Sam wasn't interested in her as anything more than a friend, and maybe an annoying little sister whose ponytail he could pull to amuse himself and annoy her. What if you're wrong? The thought pierced her heart like a nail being driven home in one hit. She gripped the sides of the sink, breathing deeply to steady the room as it spun around her. There was a soft knock at the door, and Sam's muffled voice full of concern soothed her frayed nerves like nothing else she'd tried.

"Aisy? Are you alright?"

Aisy took a deep breath, swallowing hard as she straightened up and ran her hands over her hair before opening the door. She flashed Sam a huge smile, brushing past him into the room like she hadn't just been ranting like a lunatic moments before. "I'm fine, Sam. I promise," she said, wearing what she hoped was a convincing smile.

He regarded her for a moment, his head tilted slightly as though trying to decide whether or not to believe her. "Okay," he said slowly. "What was that all about then?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Aisy said with a casual shrug. "I just got a little worked up is all. But the thing is, it's not my life. If Hope wants to marry your brother and have half a dozen rugrats, who am I to stand in the way of wedded bliss?" The words dripped with sarcasm, and Sam made one of his patented bitchfaces at her.

"Yeah," Sam said, grabbing his jacket, "okay. I'm gonna go see if I can't find something that isn't vending machine food. You wanna go?"

Aisy stared at him, amazed at how fluidly he changed the subject and didn't press her for more of an explanation. She nodded, gesturing toward the door as she grabbed her own jacket. "Are we walking?"

"Do you want to knock on that door?"

It was Aisy's turn to make a face, which she did, followed by a dramatic shudder. "Ew, no thanks," she said, stepping out into the open corridor. "It's a lovely night for a walk, don't you agree?"

"I do," Sam said with a grin, falling into step beside Aisy as they headed toward the corner market a few blocks away. They walked in silence for a short time, both lost in their own thoughts.

"Sam?" Aisy said, finally working up the courage to speak.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think they'll make it work?" Aisy asked, shooting Same a sideways glance as she waited for him to answer.

Sam smiled thoughtfully, then shook his head. "Believe me, if any two people were stubborn enough to make a seemingly doomed relationship work—it's Dean and Hope. You have no idea the hell they went through in the years they spent apart."

"It must be nice," Aisy murmured, her eyes widening as she realized what she'd said. "I just mean that it must be nice to know someone out there loves you enough to be devastated to have to live without you, you know?"

"Yeah," Sam said quietly, "I do. I hope that someday I'm lucky enough to find something even remotely close to what they have." He glanced at Aisy, noticing the way the soft yellow light of the street lights above them glinted off her hair, surrounding her in a golden halo of light. Sometimes, like earlier when she'd stomped off to the bathroom, Sam could swear that Aisy knew how he felt about her—but then she'd turn right around and pretend like she had no idea. Maybe she didn't. Perhaps it was time to make a move she couldn't ignore.

He stopped, taking her by the hand. Aisy turned and stared at him, eyes wide. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I—" Sam took a deep breath, letting go of her hand. Aisy took a step back, terrified of what might happen next. "I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head.

"For what?" Aisy said, frowning.

"I didn't mean to give you a hard time earlier—about being a romantic," Sam said. "I only did it because I was hoping—" he stopped, shaking his head again.

"Hoping what?" Aisy asked suspiciously. "That I'd turn into putty in your hands the way Hope did in Dean's?" Her tone was teasing, and the subtle darkening of Sam's cheeks in the pale sodium light amused her. "You're gonna have to work a little harder than that, Sammy-boy."

Aisy started to walk away, but Sam caught her wrist once more and gently pulled her close enough she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. A shiver of anticipation crawled across Aisy's skin as she tilted her face toward his. "What are you doing?" she breathed as her heart thundered against her ribs.

"This," he replied, placing a hand on her cheek and brushing his lips across hers, his touch so light Aisy wasn't sure for a moment he had even touched her. She sucked in a breath as he brushed across her lips again, and this time there was no mistaking the gesture.

"Sam," Aisy whispered, pulling back slightly and resting her forehead against his as she forced herself to keep breathing like a normal human being. "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing you aren't willing to give," Sam said, straightening up and running a featherlight hand down her arm, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake. "I just wanted you to know that I'm waiting."

Aisy grinned at Sam as she sauntered away, pausing when she was out of arm's reach to look at him again. "Well," she said, "you're going to have to do better than that, Sam Winchester. If you think that little brush of lips turned me into a quivering mess, you've got another thing coming." She turned away quickly, lengthening her stride to try and put as much distance between them as possible, hoping like hell he didn't see that he'd done exactly that.

"Challenge accepted," Sam murmured to himself as he caught up to Aisy in a few long strides. "I'll make you a deal," he said, grinning to himself as he fell into an easy gait beside her. Aisy kept her eyes forward, terrified to chance a look at him. "If you can look me in the eye and tell me you haven't at least thought about it, I'll back off right now. Can you do that?"

Son of a bitch, he had her and they both knew it. She closed her eyes for a moment, then fixed a steely gaze on him. "What's the alternative if I don't?"

Sam stopped, turning a mischievous smirk on her, his eyes glinting in streetlights. "If you don't—or can't, it doesn't really matter which one, then we get to find out how long it actually takes you to turn to 'putty in my hands,' as you so eloquently described it."

Fuck. That was the only thing that popped into Aisy's mind, and she stifled a snort, nearly choking in the process. Sam stared at her, waiting for an answer. So they were really going to do this then. Go big or go home, she mused as she scraped her teeth across her lower lip.

"Alright. It's a deal," Aisy said. She started walking again, revealing nothing else.

Sam chuckled as he walked behind her, taking in the subtle sway of her hips as she moved. "So," he called to her, "out of curiosity, was that a can't or won't?"

"You'll never know," Aisy called back. Sam's deep laugh caught her off guard and sent a shiver up her spine. It was the oddest thing, but she didn't think he'd ever heard him laugh in all the time they'd spent together. It was a deep, rich sound, much like Dean's, and Aisy suddenly wanted to spend the rest of her days listening to that sound.

Neither of them spoke again, and when they reached the market Aisy could almost taste the tension in the air between them. She grabbed a shopping cart, wheeling it away from him before he could catch her and glancing over her shoulder to see him standing with his arms folded, smirking at her as he shook his head.

"Catch me if you can, Sammy-boy," Aisy teased, laughing maniacally as Sam's expression shifted from flirtatious smirk to frowny bitchface.

"You're gonna regret that," Sam growled, the corners of his mouth twitching as he started toward her. Aisy darted away, disappearing down an aisle away from him. God, what the hell was she doing? She hadn't done anything this reckless in years—since the time she and Charlie got banned from an Old Navy in Chicago for making out in the dressing rooms. Although, she supposed it was beyond time for her to let loose and have some fun.

Lost in thought as she was, Aisy didn't hear Sam sneak up behind her until she felt his breath on her neck. "Gotcha," he murmured, his lips barely brushing her skin as he nipped her shoulder. She shivered involuntarily, and she could feel Sam's smile as she turned, but he was already gone.

"Son of a bitch," Aisy muttered as she tried to catch her breath, her fingers touching her neck where his lips had been as a wicked grin spread across her face. It had been way too long since anyone had touched her like that. "Fine, two can play that game."

Aisy wandered around the store, absentmindedly picking items and tossing them into the shopping cart while keeping a wary eye out for Sam. She wasn't really hungry—not for food, anyway—but she told herself it would be useful later when she was probably going to be starving. He appeared soundlessly behind her again, this time letting his hand brush along her side, his fingers teasing along the waistband of her jeans as he murmured, "gotcha again," into her neck.

This time, though, Aisy was ready for him. She pushed back against the solid mass of his body, her tongue catching between her teeth as she broke into a smile when he playfully bit her shoulder and uttered a low, predatory growl. Searing heat filled her midsection, radiating out across every fiber of her being. It's not going to take half as much effort as he thinks, she thought, catching him by surprise as she spun in his arms, pulling him in for a searing kiss that left them both breathless and dizzy.

"Let's go," Sam growled into her ear, sending more shivers through her body as she nodded. For the first time in the history of her life, she didn't have enough brainpower to make a sassy remark. No one—not even Charlie, had been able to take away her ability to be snarky at the most inappropriate times, so when Sam took her hand and led her from the store, leaving the shopping cart abandoned in the middle of the produce section, Aisy didn't argue. Food would have to wait, and that was just fine with her.

Aisy couldn't remember the last time she'd run that fast. Her heart was pounding as she panted for breath, her damp hair clinging to her neck in ringlets as they stopped in front of the motel room door. She pressed herself against Sam's back and snaked a hand around his waist, her fingertips brushing along the front of his jeans. "You're not the only one that can be a tease, Sam," she murmured, biting the hard muscle of his shoulder as she took her hand away.

Sam sucked in a breath, his fingers fumbling as he unlocked the door and shoved it open, grabbing Aisy by the wrist to pull her inside the room and spin her around, pressing her against the door as it slammed behind her. He caught her mouth in a hungry kiss that left her struggling to breathe as the taste of cinnamon overwhelmed her. She pulled back for a moment, her eyes wide as she sucked in a breath before Sam's mouth was on hers again.

Heat moved through her veins like wildfire destroying the last of her defenses, and she melted into the touch of his lips as he trailed kisses down her neck. Sam buried his fingers in Aisy's hair, gently tugging her head back to give himself easier access to the hollow of her collarbone. A low whimper escaped her mouth as his breath caressed the skin there, sending a wave of goosebumps exploding across her skin like tiny fireworks.

Aisy grabbed the open edges of Sam's flannel shirt, pulling his body closer to hers as her mouth found his once more and she jerked the shirt down over his shoulders. He wriggled out of it and threw it somewhere behind them, then ran his hands down Aisy's sides, cupping her ass and lifting her off the ground, pinning her hard between his body and the door. She let out a surprised squeak, then wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging to him like she was climbing a tree.

Sam ran his hands up Aisy's back as he kissed her again, then abruptly pulled back. "What is it?" Aisy said breathlessly, her mouth red and swollen from Sam's kisses

"Too much fabric," he said in a low growl, yanking at the hem of her before catching her mouth again. Aisy laughed against his mouth, putting a hand on his chest to push him back.

"Well, you could've just said so,' she said, tightening her grip on him with her legs as she pulled the shirt over her head, throwing it somewhere in the general direction of Sam's discarded flannel. "How's this?"

Sam grinned, tightening his grip on her ass. "Better," he murmured as he trailed kisses across the runed tattoos on her shoulders and chest and Aisy was certain she was going to be nothing but a puddled mess on the floor before the night was through. No way in hell was she going to be the only one, though.

"Well that's not fair," Aisy pouted as she tugged at Sam's waist, trying to free the hem of his t-shirt from between them. "I took off mine." Sam grinned, lowering her to the floor as he ripped the shirt over his head and reached for her again.

"Better?"

Aisy could've died and gone straight to hell right that instant and not regretted a single moment. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she stared at Sam, drinking in the sight of the living Adonis that stood before her. His jeans hung low on his narrow hips, and her fingers itched to caress the defined muscles of his chest and torso. She would happily spend a lifetime memorizing the lines of the scars on his skin, each one a reminder of a hard-won victory.

She shook her head, a wicked smile spreading across her face. "Here, let me help," she smirked, snapping her fingers and murmuring a spell that dropped his remaining clothes onto the floor. "There, I like that much better." She scraped her teeth across her bottom lip, fixing a 'what are you going to do about it' stare on him.

"Seriously?" Sam growled, his arousal obvious as he pinned her firmly against the door. "That's how you want to play?"

"Is that what we're doing?" Aisy purred. "Playing? And here I thought you were serious about this, Sam." She stuck out her bottom lip in a pout, and Sam growled again, lowering his mouth to hers and catching her puckered lip lightly between his teeth. She whined as her desire threatened to drown her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms gripping his shoulders as she trailed kisses along his stubbled jaw. She caught the skin of his neck between her teeth, nipping playfully.

"One hour," Sam said, breathing heavily as Aisy pulled back and stared at him, her arched brows knitted into a confused frown.

"What?"

"One hour," he repeated, the corner of his mouth twitching, "that's how long it took to turn you into putty."

Aisy's frown disappeared as she narrowed her eyes and poke a short, black fingernail into the center of his chest. "That's hilarious," she said, tracing her nail down toward his waist, as she put her lips to his ear and whispered, "since I'm not the one who's naked."

"Well, you can fix that problem the easy way, or I can do it the hard way."

Aisy didn't reply, catching his earlobe between her teeth and tasting the salt of his skin as she snapped her fingers again, this time dropping her own clothes to the floor. Sam stared at her, drinking in the sight of her bare skin. She was a volcano dangerously close to eruption as she moved in his hands, and he relished the waves of heat rolling off her body. He pressed her harder against the door, spreading his thighs to support her better as he slid his hand between their bodies, his fingers exploring all the hidden parts of her.

Aisy threw her head back, a moan escaping her lips as Sam pushed two fingers inside her, seeking that secret spot only a few could ever find. When he found it, she cried out in pleasure and dug her nails into the rigid muscles of his shoulders. Her breath came in ragged gasps, but he didn't stop his movements. "Sam," She whispered, her eyes fluttering open as she said his name again.

Sam held her gaze as the first waves of Aisy's orgasm ripped through her, exploding with the force of a thousand nuclear bombs. The lightbulb over the kitchenette exploded, washing them in complete darkness, but neither noticed as focused as they were on each other. She bucked her hips against his hand, greedy for more. "Please, Sam," she whined, leaning her head back against the door. "I need you."

Without a word, Sam withdrew his fingers, lifting Aisy's hips as he moved to enter her. She groaned as he did, rocking her hips and sending tiny shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Sam stayed completely motionless for a moment, gritting his teeth as he tried to keep his tenuous hold on his self-control. When Aisy moved her hips again, he forgot everything else and lost himself in the feel of her.

She matched his movements, each of their bodies speaking a language perfectly understood by the other. Aisy cried out his name again, tightening her grip around Sam's neck and capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss as she rode the edge of ecstasy. Sam moved faster, drawing her closer and closer to her orgasm as well as his own. All of the light bulbs and mirrors in the room shattered, littering the floor with broken pieces as she cried out again, her orgasm exploding through her. Moments later, Sam let out a guttural cry as his own orgasm overtook him and he clung to Aisy as though he were drowning and she was the only life preserver.

They stayed like that for several moments, clinging to each other and gasping for air, letting their racing heartbeats return to normal. Sam lowered Aisy to the ground, his hands lingering on her bare skin as they separated, noticing the destruction around them for the first time.

"Well, that's new," Aisy said contemplatively as she examined the destruction.

"What do you mean? What the hell was that?" Sam said, frowning but sounding more surprised than anything else.

Aisy snorted, which quickly devolved into a fit of giggles. "Sorry," she gasped, trying to get herself under control. "That, my sweet Sam, is what happens when I don't pay attention to my emotions. I told you I could be destructive, remember? The thing is, it's never happened during sex before."

"Well housekeeping ain't gonna be happy," Sam muttered, reaching for his boxer shorts. "I mean, look what you did to the TV."

Aisy glanced over at the shattered flatscreen TV sitting haphazardly on the dresser and snorted again. "Oops. Well, luckily for us, housekeeping will never know."

Sam cocked an eyebrow in question as Aisy muttered something in Latin waving her hand as though she was throwing confetti. He blinked in disbelief as the broken glass littering the floor disappeared and the broken items were restored to their original forms. "Now that—that is a handy thing to have."

"Tell me about it," Aisy said dressing in her underclothes and stretching lazily across the bed. She yawned, laying her head on the pillow. "So, are you gonna come over here and keep me warm, or are you scared you won't be able to keep your hands off me?"

"Not scared, but how do you expect me to keep my hands off you when you're over there looking like that?" Aisy laughed, and up until that moment, Sam hadn't realized how much he loved the sound.

"Who said I wanted you to?" She teased, gesturing for him to come to her. "What's the matter? Afraid you can't keep up with me, old man?"

Sam grinned at her, covering his mouth with one hand as he shook his head in disbelief. "Old man, huh? I'll fucking show you 'old man', sassy witch."

He scrambled up the bed, pinning her between himself and the mattress and peppering her face and neck with kisses as she shrieked with laughter.

"I'm waiting," she teased, but the only answer she got was a low growl as Sam set to work showing her exactly what he meant.

Sam laid awake staring at the ceiling while Aisy slept soundly next to him, one arm and leg draped over him like a blanket and her dark curls fanned out across his shoulder. It was late, although he had no idea how late, or how much time had passed because the clock had been a magical victim of their last bout of lovemaking.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought that he should at least be unnerved by the glimpse he'd seen of Aisy's magical power, and a younger version of himself might've been. If she was capable of that much destruction when she wasn't even angry, what could she do if she was on a quest for vengeance? He planted a light kiss on the side of her head and she groaned, snuggling closer to him. The warmth of her was intoxicating, and as much as he tried to fight it, sleep beckoned like a siren and he succumbed quickly to the deep dive of oblivion.

Light streamed through the windows when he woke again to the sound of someone banging on the door. Aisy groaned and grumbled as he slid out from under her, pulling on his jeans as he went to answer the door.

Dean stood in the corridor as Sam pulled the door open, squinting as the early morning sunlight seared his retinas. "Dude, have you even slept?"

Sam nodded, stifling a yawn as he ran a hand down his face. He grunted an answer, shifting his body to block Dean's view of Aisy sprawled across the bed. Dean shook his head, turning away from the door.

"Bobby finally called a few minutes ago. I was right, this is a bastard offshoot of the djinn, only this one doesn't feed off you while making you believe your dreams are coming true. It feeds off fear. There's a specific antidote you need for their poison, which luckily we have all the ingredients for. So, pull yourself together and meet me out here in twenty."

Sam nodded, saying nothing as he slid his hand down the door and started to close it. "Oh, and Sam?" Dean said, turning back toward Sam with a knowing smirk, "Take a shower. You stink like sex."

"Bite me, jerk," Sam grumbled, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Bitch." Dean walked away, shaking his head and chuckling to himself.