"There's no reason for-"
"-I'm not staying in the car the entire fuckin'-"
"Guys." Interrupting what had already been a ten-minute bitch-fest, Sam spoke up loud enough to make himself heard over their squabbling. Good thing too, because she was just about ready to climb over the front seat and strangle Dean with her bare hands. Or there was the gun in the glove box. She didn't know how to shoot, but if he could do it, she was pretty confident she could figure it out.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Sam pressed his lips together for a moment, smothering what she was pretty sure was laughter. Again. What the hell was so funny? So far, she liked him, he seemed like a pretty nice guy, but seriously, she didn't get the joke. ...Sure you don't…Did everyone have that little proverbial devil on their shoulder that valiantly tried to call them on their own bullshit, or was that just her? Well, not today, imaginary mini-Satan. Not today.
"There." One hand on the steering wheel, Dean nodded toward a young woman as they slowly cruised past, a thick stack of flyers in her hand and dozens more already lining the street, "I think that's our girl."
"And here I thought I was your girl, Winchester." Shoulder against the rear passenger-side door, she smiled, glancing over in time to see the muscle in Dean's jaw start to twitch. Now that was funny. And also a terrible habit. Bet he got headaches, and hellacious dental bills. A smile that pretty had to be expensive.
Hand hovering near the door handle, she didn't bother to acknowledge Dean's reply. Something about 'stay in the car', 'don't you dare', 'don't even think about it'. Whatever, it wasn't important. As soon as the car slowed enough, she was out the door, kicking it shut behind her before Dean had a chance to throw it into park.
Stepping up onto the curb, she stuck her hands in her pockets and turned to wait, shoulders around her ears as she tried to burrow a little further into her useless t-shirt. It wasn't the warmest day ever and she could have been comfortable for an extra few minutes, but hearing Dean curse from here was totally worth it. Sam's laughter was just a bonus.
"Stubborn bitch."
"I prefer 'strong-willed'. Same meaning, different flavor."
Hands in her pockets, she was waiting on the sidewalk for him and Sam as they stepped out of the car, a smug smirk directed at him. What, like he couldn't just pick her ass up and toss her back in the car? She was the size of a fucking Cabbage Patch kid, it wouldn't be hard. "Get your ass back in the car, Tinkerbell." If the narrowed eyes and fingers in her hair were any indication, she did not like the new nickname. Good to know, he'd have to use it more often.
"How about no."
"I swear to God if you don't get back in the car, I'll-"
"What?" Paying no mind to the few pedestrians that skirted around them, Skye gave up all pretense at being amused and stepped closer, refusing to look away. Was she really challenging him? Well wasn't that adorable. "You'll what, Dean? I'm not a fucking poodle, you can't just leave me in the car while you run errands." And now she was smiling, which couldn't possibly be good. Taking a step closer, she lowered her voice, "...and you can smile and nod and agree that you have absolutely no authority over me or I can start screaming."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me. Who do you think a cop is going to believe? Me, Miss Cheerleader Barbie, or you, Mister 'I have a blood-stained arsenal in the trunk'?"
Yeah, he really didn't like that smile, or that tone, or the fact that he was like ninety-eight percent sure she wasn't bluffing. When, exactly, had he lost control of this entire situation? Oh. Right. New Orleans. Fuck. "That's blackmail."
"I prefer extortion." Looking entirely too pleased with herself, Skye rocked back on her heels, hands still stuck firmly in the back pockets of her baggy jeans, "It sounds classier."
Great. Now she was all smug because she thought she'd won. ...because she had. Dammit. "Fine, you can come...but you had better behave and do what you're told." Turning to Sam, who'd just been standing there leaning against the car the entire fucking time, watching like a creeper, "And you, what kind of help are you?"
With a grin, Sam straightened up and joined them on the sidewalk, hands in the pockets of his tan jacket. Shaking his hair out of his eyes, he fell into step on the other side of Skyler, giving her an approving nod before looking up at Dean with a smile, "I like her."
"Thanks, Sasquatch. I like you too." Warm brown eyes crinkled at the corners as Skye smiled up at the lanky freak of nature walking on the other side of her, arms wrapped around herself, goosebumps breaking out on pale skin at the touch of the breeze. And there went Dean's stomach again. Maybe he was coming down with something… And when had the temperature started dropping? He tended to run hot and didn't notice, only wearing layers to hide the fact that he also tended to run heavily armed. And pockets. Pockets were good.
"Sasquatch, huh?" Pausing in the middle of the sidewalk, Sam turned and gave Skye a good once-over, thinking about that one before nodding slow agreement, "Alright. ...Midget."
Midget was right, or damn close. And to go right along with her small stature, she was about as big around as Dean's thigh and, while he couldn't make a lot out under that oversized t-shirt and baggy jeans, he was fairly sure she didn't have an ounce of fat on her. No wonder she was cold, girl had basically no insulation. Fuckin' a.
With a sigh he felt all the way down to his toes, Dean looped back around to where Sam and Skye had stopped on the sidewalk, right in the middle of everything. Shrugging out of his heavy jacket, he held it out to her, getting nothing but a suspicious look in return. There's gratitude for you. "Here, take it."
"Why?"
"Because you're cold."
"...so?"
Fucks sake, he was trying to be nice. Was she really going to turn this into a fight too? She'd already won the last one, no way was he letting her win any more and this was just stupid, she was freezing. Stubborn, hard-headed, snippy little…
A tight smile painted on his lips, Dean stepped around behind her, cutting her off before she could make a run for it. Draping the jacket over her slim shoulders, he short-circuited the argument before it could get going in earnest. His breath stirring the stray hairs tucked behind her ear, he leaned in close enough to smell that damned perfume that made his brain fuzz, "...put it on or I will put it on you."
A flush of pale pink swept across fair skin, creeping up the back of her neck to stain the tips of her ears pink. Now if only he could figure out if that was because of his threat or just his proximity, that'd be great. Tilting her head, she tried to look up at him, only succeeding in getting close enough for him to figure out that the scent under that honeysuckle perfume was Juicy Fruit. "You wouldn't."
Was it getting warmer out here? "Try me."
