Hey Guys - I'm so sorry for not updating in ages. This summer was a rough one for me, and while battling with some health issues, I lost my drive to write. I'm slowly trying to get back on my feet and managed to finish this chapter. It continues from that tiny cliffhanger at the end of the latest chapter and finishes that scene. If only I can keep on writing, we'll soon move on with the actual plot, lol - about damn time!

Here we have a small bit of Dean POV - I hope you like it!

As always - your reviews and your support mean the world to me, so if you have time - please leave a review, no matter how short.

A special thanks to ''frankannestein' - not only are you an amazing writer, you are a wonderful and caring human being also. Thank you! (Everyone, go and read her SPN fic Among us!)

He didn't even know how it happened - one moment he was rushing out of the apartment, pissed at Sam, pissed at the whole fucking world - the next he was falling down the steps with someone soft and feminine that smelled like roses.

She made a surprised yelp as they went down, and he fell right on top of her. A bottle of tequila shattered to pieces nearby and Dean's palms met the concrete with force, the contact peeling off some skin.

The pain was one thing - but what really got to him, was the way Jackie's body felt under him. Her goddamn perky tits pressing against his chest-

Fuck-

Their legs entwined and a sudden flash of arousal deep in his gut was almost painful.

An instinct, nothing he could do about it.

Sam's girl. Not yours. Besides - she's not a girl at all.

Dean made a grunt and rose to his forearms.

"You do this on purpose?" he managed. "First the nudity and now this?"

Jackie squinted, her green eyes narrowing. Her breath smelled like alcohol.

"And why would I do that?"

"Dunno. Why don't you tell me?"

"Just get off her, Dean." Sam's hand was on his shoulder, yanking him up, and (somewhat stiffly) Dean got to his feet. Jackie was still on the sidewalk, the hem of her white dress drawn up, revealing the tanned skin of her slender thighs and it took all of Dean's willpower to drag his eyes off that sight.

"So, is it intentional?" He asked, taking a look at his scratched palms.

"If I want a guy on top of me, I only have to ask." Jackie snapped while sitting up.

Dean rolled his eyes.

No matter what she said, he couldn't shake the feeling that she was using her womanly charms on him, to make herself look like less of a danger. To make her look like an ordinary chic instead of a fucking demigod.

Because she sure as Hell didn't look dangerous now - sitting on the sidewalk in her white summer dress that left her shoulders bare, her hair a mess of red curls, sand on her bare toes. She looked like a beach babe, and Dean could not help the attraction he felt towards her.

Which was just fucking stupid.

Maybe she was a witch who had put a spell on Sammy, a love spell. And cast some mojo on him too.

"Where have you been?" Asked Sam, who was now kneeling by Jackie's side. "I texted you like a 1000 times-"

"Babe, you need to stop worrying about me." Jackie replied. "I can take care of myself."

Sam pursed his lips but didn't argue. Instead, he offered her a hand and helped her up - to her somewhat wobbly legs.

"You smell like the ocean," Sam noted.

"Yeah, I was on a beach." she replied. "In Brazil. A nice beach, really - we should go there together sometime-"

"On a beach?" Sam asked. "For what?"

"To get some tea and sympathy." Jackie shrugged. "Or more likely tequila and sympathy, but you know-"

"You were with someone?"

"Why do you ask?" Jackie sounded rather annoyed. "It's not like you own me."

Sam opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then didn't, and just shook his head.

"I was with a friend," she said, after a small silence. "You don't know him."

"I don't really know any of your friends."

"You know Joe. Besides - I don't have that many friends anyways."

"Just beach buddies?"

"I happen to like beaches." Jackie pouted. "And tequila. They make me feel better."

"Fine, whatever-" Sam started, but at that moment Jackie seemed to realize her bottle was missing and noticed the shattered glass on the concrete around them.

"Hey! You destroyed my tequila!" she pointed a finger at Dean.

Dean arched his brows.

"Well, Yeah — why were you lurking behind our door anyway, huh? Eavesdropping?"

Jackie crossed her arms over her chest.

"I was about to knock on the door, idiot." She snapped. "Because the last time I didn't knock, you kinda freaked out."

"For a reason-."

Dean had an overcoming urge to call Jackie a bitch, but a murdering glance from Sam told him to hold his tongue.

He made a face to his brother, who barely noticed as his attention was now all back on Jackie. Apparently, he had gotten over the fact that his girlfriend had been getting drunk on a beach with another guy - a thought that made Dean frown. Who knew what Jackie had been up to in there - plotting for pagan rituals with another demigod, planning on the ways to gut Sam and drain his blood-

Yeah, right. At least now she's too drunk to gut anyone.

Under the dim and flickering streetlight, Dean watched how Sam gently laid his hands on Jackie's shoulders, brushed his fingers through the mess of her hair and his throat bobbed of some unnamed emotion.

The look on his face was unlike any Dean had seen before, and for a painful moment, he was very much aware of the fact that he had never looked at anyone like Sam was looking at Jackie.

Nor had anyone looked at him like that.

Pissed, he shrugged that thought off, pushed it away like it was something toxic, but couldn't help the bitter taste that lingered on his lips.

"Is that your blood?" Sam's voice cut through Dean's annoyment.

"Shit—" Jackie looked down. "Crap, it must've been the fall—"

There were some red stains on her white dress, and Dean noticed blood running down Jackie's left lower arm, from a shallow cut in her elbow.

He rolled his eyes to himself. To Hell with all - but he wasn't gonna let a girl bleed on the sidewalk, no matter what kind of a supernatural freak that girl happened to be.

"Come on," he grunted. "Let's get inside - we've got band-aids."

By the time they got to the living room couch and Sam had retrieved the first aid kit, Jackie's wounds had already stopped bleeding. She let him clean them anyways, and cover them with band-aids - it felt so good to be taken care of, to feel his gentle hands on her skin, awakening the longing she always felt when around him.

"You really didn't have to do this," she said softly as he was finally done and let go of her arm. "I heal fast."

"I know."

Even through the fog of tequila, Jackie knew what Sam was thinking about - about that damned day when she had almost been killed by the golem.

She couldn't help wondering if that was how it was always going to be - whenever she got a cut or a bruise or a wound, would he always think about that day when he had seen her almost die? Would he always be afraid that she'd get hurt, and would his need to protect her suffocate them in the end?

Jackie brushed that thought off.

Time. We just need time, that's all. It's all been so fucking intense these past few days.

Sam's fingers entwined with hers, and the feeling of his palm against her own made Jackie's heart swell. She could've sworn it filled her ribcage, and it was suddenly hard to breathe.

She turned her eyes to Dean, who was leaning against the wall and sipping a beer. He hadn't offered her one.

"Are you okay?" she asked, and Dean turned to look at her.

"No, I'm not," he replied harshly. "I've got a fucking demigod sitting on my couch."

"Dean-" Sam started, but Jackie cut him mid-sentence.

"No, Sam. It's fine," she said. "Dean's right."

"Damn well I'm right," muttered Dean.

"Doesn't mean I'm going to let you kill me, though."

"Gathered as much." Dean shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "Are you gonna kill me, then?"

His words made her flinch.

No matter the amount of tequila she had ingested, she wasn't nearly drunk enough to forget what she had almost done. The shame felt like something sticky on her soul.

"I'm not killing anyone," she said. "And I came here to apologize."

"Yeah, right."

"I'm serious, Dean." she cast down her eyes, to the carpet that was so stained and dirty it was hard to tell what color it had originally been. Now it was an ugly shade of brown. Her bare toes still had some sand on them, her toenails were painted bright pink - a stricing contrast to the carpet.

Suddenly Jackie felt exhausted. This had been one long day - waking up at Joe's place, then meeting the antique dealer in Paris, having mind-blowing sex with Sam for the whole afternoon, then her fight with Dean, and getting drunk on tequila at the beach with Cass-

Cass.

She had been mean to him like she had been mean to Dean too. A bitch. She knew it without saying. But it was so fucking hard to let her guard down and-

And what?

Dean had seen her like she truly was, and it had ended in a gunshot.

Jackie felt weary in a way she hadn't for a long time. She wanted to sleep, she wanted to go home - but she had no home, she only had an expensive hotel room and a couple of suitcases, and suddenly that thought hit her like a wrecking ball. Her home was gone, it was nothing but ashes in the wind, smoke in the air, and she was tired of running.

"I'm sorry," she said after a small silence. "I'm sorry I lost my temper. I'm sorry I kicked you. I'm sorry I pointed a gun at you, Dean, I truly am. I don't want to hurt you-"

"Jackie, you don't need to-" Sam tried to cut in, but Jackie shook her head, tasting tears on her lips.

"No, I do." she breathed. "And Sam, I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry about the golem-"

"Wait, what?" that was Dean. "What Golem?"

"-and about lying to you, so many times, and about leaving you in the bathroom of that shady nightclub, and I'm so sorry that I'm such a mess, and such a bitch, and-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay-" Sam's arms were around her, pulling her closer and she leaned her head on his shoulder, fighting the damn tears that were like acid in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry I got into this fight with Dean-" she was almost sobbing now. "I really like Dean. He's awesome. I don't want to hurt him-"

"Come now," Sam said soothingly. "It's fine, it is. I'm not mad at you. Nobody is."

"I'm still a bit mad," noted Dean. "But whatever."

"-and I'm sorry that I'm so goddamn drunk."

Sam made a soft sound that could've been a laugh. "You don't have to apologize for that. Or about anything."

His arm around her was strong and steady, his scent of old books, cotton, and steel made its way into her bloodstream and her pulse quickened. He felt like home, and she wanted to stay like this forever.

"I wish I had more tequila."

Sam's response was to place a kiss on the top of her head.

"I think you've had enough. I'm gonna take you to bed now," he said. "That okay?"

A yawn escaped from Jackie's lips. Gods, she was exhausted. The thought of bed, a soft pillow, and clean cotton sheets, Sam's peaceful breathing in the darkness - it felt like a slice of Heaven.

"In a minute… just let me-" she stood up (her legs a bit wobbly, the booze making her head dizzy), and walked to Dean.

He was leaning on the wall, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, the bottle of beer in his hand - and even if he was shorter than Sam, he was still a full head taller than Jackie. She had to look up, to meet his eyes.

Those green eyes, that didn't reveal anything. The tight line of his jaw, those full, beautiful lips. A shadow crossed his handsome face as he looked at her, a shadow of doubt and fear, and disgust.

It felt like a dagger in her chest, but she breathed through the pain and stopped in front of him.

"I know you're worried," she said, meeting his gaze. "But I think you should know that I'm with Sam because I love him. And I'd rather gnaw off my arm than hurt him."

"So you say."

"You know - we both want the same thing."

"A beautiful blond in a Princess Leia bikini?"

"Oh, I've had one," she replied, and momentarily enjoyed the widening of Dean's eyes. "But let's get serious - we both want Sam to be happy. And he is happy with me. So you might as well take your head off your ass and accept it."

She heard the laugh Sam made at her comment but didn't turn to look. She met Dean's gaze as sternly as she could, fighting that dizziness that wanted to drag her down.

"A truce?" she asked, offering her hand.

It took a couple of heartbeats, but finally, he took her hand and shook on it.

"A truce," Dean said. "But don't think for one moment that we're done."