Between a small reading lamp left burning in the corner of the living room and the hazy light filtering in through the blinds from outside, it was just bright enough to not trip, break her neck, and die. After spotting the couch sitting against the far wall, she walked over and sat her happy ass down. Leaning back, she crossed her arms and made a mental note to install an alarm system next time she had anything she could call home.
Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes, ears straining for the sound of Dean moving in the next room. A guy his size should have been like the so-called bull in the proverbial china shop, but he wasn't. Nope, he was actually fairly graceful and unnervingly silent when he felt the need to be, though apparently he didn't feel the need here. She could hear him rummaging around in the kitchen, the fridge door opening and closing again almost as quickly before his steps headed in her direction.
Watching with narrowed eyes as Dean stepped into the living room, she sighed and waited for whatever in the hell would happen next to just happen already, because guaranteed it'd be something.
She didn't have to wait long. She contemplated calling out a warning to Dean as a tall figure stepped up behind him… but where's the fun in that?
The towering shadow caught Dean off-guard, landing a solid blow before he could turn around, quickly followed by a flurry of activity too fast for her to make out in the darkness. Closing her eyes, she bit her lip and tucked herself into the far corner of the couch, making herself as small as possible. She did not want caught up in the middle of all that nonsense, thanks.
It was entirely too long before the thud of a body hitting the floor announced the fight was more-or-less over. And Dean was the victor because it was just asking too much to see someone kick the snot out of him.
"Whoa, easy tiger." The light from the window illuminated Dean's face, lighting up a broad grin on too-pretty lips as he leaned over the man pinned beneath him. This had to be the closest Skye had seen him to any kind of happy. His default setting seemed to be brooding and terse, though her presence might have had something to do with that.
"Dean?" The man measuring his length on the floor looked up at Dean, in disbelief at what he was seeing. It was obvious Dean was the last person he expected in his living room at half-past three in the morning. Trying to raise himself up on his elbows, a difficult task with two-hundred pounds of jackass on your chest, he finally managed a full sentence: "You scared the crap out of me."
"That's 'cause you're out of practice." As soon as the words left his mouth, Dean found himself on his back, the solid whump of his bulk hitting the floor more than enough to elicit a chuckle from Skye. Now that was more like it. Too bad she didn't see how it happened, it was a neat trick.
"Or not. Get off me." Gasping for the breath that had been knocked out of him, Dean spared a glare in her direction as he got himself up off the floor. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was embarrassed. Course, you'd have to be human for that, with actual human feelings. Did asshole count as its own species? Maybe he'd short-circuited the hamster wheel he called a brain, because he was unable to come up with anything better than "Shut up."
As the two men stood and dusted themselves off, Skye got a good look at Dean's 'little' brother for the first time. Holy shit, dude hadn't mentioned the man was a fucking sequoia. He had to be a good six-foot-four, maybe more. And if she'd thought Dean was built… Did this guy live in the gym? She could count the six-pack through his t-shirt from here. Talk about some good genes.
"Dean, what the hell are you doing here?"
"I was lookin' for a beer." Grabbing Sam's shoulder, Dean smiled and pulled him down for a hug, ignoring the surprised look on Skye's face at the sudden display of affection. He already knew exactly what she thought of him and if she wanted to be shocked that he wasn't all gloom and doom, well, fuck her. Yeah, you'd like to. Not helpful, brain, fuck off.
"Sam?"
Dean looked up as an attractive blue-eyed blonde dressed in a cut-off Smurfs t-shirt and rainbow-striped boy-cut shorts appeared in the doorway, hair mussed and sleep in her eyes. Flipping the lights on, she stifled a yawn and surveyed the sight in front of her, "What's going on?"
"Jess, hey…" As if finally remembering that this wasn't the most normal way for someone to drop in for a visit, Sam waved Jess over to join them and made introductions, "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica. Jess, this is Dean and this is-" His expression going blank, Sam realized he had no idea who the girl sitting on his sofa was or what she was doing there. "...I have no clue who that is."
"Well, that's 'cause your brother's rude and failed to make introductions." Getting to her feet, Skye made her way across the room to join them, hands stuck firmly in her back pockets as she stopped a couple feet away. Giving the much taller man a good once-over, she managed a friendly grin that may or may not have made Dean's stomach flutter. ...was probably just the tacos from last night. Yeah. Right. Sure it was. "You know, Sam, I thought you'd be taller."
Coming from a total stranger, the teasing comment caught Sam off-guard and he found himself smiling back, giving her the same once-over she'd just given him. She was a cute little thing, with an emphasis on little. Dark brown eyes and hair just a shade lighter, she had a wholesome look to her. Very head cheerleader/babysitter/girl-next-door. Definitely not Dean's usual type. "And you're Dean's...girlfriend?"
"Oh, fuck no." Glancing over at Dean, she rolled her eyes so hard Sam could practically hear them "Warren Buffett couldn't pay me enough to date him."
"I'd rather swallow ground glass." Scoffing, Dean echoed the sentiment, the muscles in his jaw twitching for a second before he forced out a half-assed explanation, "She's-she's...she's a temporary inconvenience, is what she is."
"That can be arranged," Skye snapped back and Sam had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the nonplussed look on Dean's face at her matter-of-fact tone. With a sweet smile, the girl turned to Jess, dismissing the boys for the moment as she wiggled her fingers in greeting, "Sorry, hi. It's nice to meet you, Jessica. I'm Inconvenient, but you can call me Skye."
"My pleasure, Skye. I think." With a bemused expression, Jessica offered the smaller girl a smile that might have been just a touch sympathetic. Jess was good like that, great about rolling with the punches and always willing to make a friend. It was one thing Sam loved about her, one of a very long list. The fog of sleep seemed to clear her brain right about then and he could see the light bulb flash on over her head as she put two and two together, "Wait. Your brother, Dean?"
"I love the Smurfs." Hands in his pockets, Dean's eyes drifted down to settle on the colorful cartoon characters that decorated Jessica's chest. Sliding a step closer, he let his gaze wander, taking in what was an admittedly beautiful figure. And didn't even bother to try and hide the fact that was what he was doing. Yup, same old Dean. "You know, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother's league."
"Just let me put something on…"
"No. No, no. I wouldn't dream of it. ...seriously." Sam wasn't sure if Dean didn't notice Jessica's discomfort or just didn't care, which was a little surprising. Dean had always been popular with the ladies and he knew how to charm and disarm, but he'd never been one to purposefully make a woman uncomfortable. Or, well, he hadn't been last time Sam had seen him. He had to admit, four years was a long time and people changed.
"God, you're such a perv, Winchester. Can't you see you're weirdin' the girl out?" Before Sam could step in and say anything, not that he'd figured out yet what that might be, Skye went and did it for him, not hesitating to step up and get in Dean's face. Or as close to it as she could reach anyway, putting herself solidly between Dean and Jess. "Ever hear of boundaries? Personal space? Not bein' a fuckin' creep? I'm sorry about him, Jessica, he's not house trained. In fact, sometimes I'm shocked shitless that he can function like a normal human person at all. Guess I can't really blame the boy though, poor thing failed out of obedience school…"
Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd seen someone jump in and give Dean a dressing down quite like that. Her irritation was understandable, but was that maybe a little jealousy? He'd just met the girl five seconds ago and he couldn't be sure, but that's really what it looked like to him, and the quickly suppressed look of amusement on Dean's face was pretty interesting, too. Okay, who was this girl and, more importantly, what the hell were they doing here at three in the morning?
"Yeah, whatever." For just a second there, it was all Dean could do not to smile, but aggravation quickly smothered the impulse. Part of him realized he was riling her up on purpose, but that part was easy to ignore and brush off as 'she deserves it'. Didn't have a thing to do with the fact that she was adorable when she was pissed, which was often. Nope. Hello, Egypt? I'd like to book a trip to Denial.
When looming intimidatingly over Skye didn't work, Dean was forced to just roll his eyes and dismiss her as best he could, interrupting her tirade to give Jess a smile. A real one this time and not one designed to poke the bear. Well, the itty-bitty little teddy-bear. Ha. "I gotta borrow your boyfriend here to talk about some private family business, but nice meetin' you, Jess."
"No." Finally deciding to join the conversation instead of just standing there, Sam stepped up and put an arm around Jessica's waist, "Whatever you want to say, you can say in front of her."
"Okay…. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."
"So he's working overtime on a Miller-Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."
Not an unreasonable assumption, and one Dean had made himself more than once, but Sam had to know he wouldn't show up out of nowhere if Dad was just off on a bender somewhere. Nibbling on his lower lip, he tried to figure out how to phrase it so Sam would get the hint, not really wanting to look psychotic in front of anymore attractive young women. Just the one was enough for now, thanks.
"Dad's on a Hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."
