Tandy slid into the backseat of the Impala and an easy smile stole over her features. She ran her fingers over the warm, leather interior and breathed in all that was Dean and Sam, content and reminiscent.
The first time she had been in the Impala, she had been bloody. It was after a hunt, unsurprisingly. She'd been bested by a dang bloodsucker and if it wasn't for Dean and his quick work with a machete, she'd have been a goner, too. She could remember the stars, more beautiful than she'd ever seen them before, as she peered up through the back window and how they twinkled, in and out of focus, like headlights on a broken road. Or maybe, in hindsight, she was just slipping into unconsciousness from all the blood loss. She couldn't be certain, but either way, it was really, really pretty. She remembered how Dean's face had hovered over her, fearful but also really, really pretty, and how he had cursed her something shocking, not because she had spilled half a litre of herself onto his backseat, but because there was no god damned way that she was going to be snuffed out by a measly vampire bite, not on his watch.
Dean Winchester had saved her life that day, and other days, but she'd saved his too, more times than she could count.
Except for, well, that last time ...
Tandy closed her eyes, curling the leather more tightly beneath her nails.
She should have been there. If only she'd known. She could have done something, anything. But what hurt more than that, what she would never care to admit, was that they had come to her in the months before he was dragged below. Jesus. They'd worked a case together. Sam had been as geeky as ever, and Dean was just as charming, and all the while, he'd been living on borrowed time, and they both said nothing. Admittedly, she knew that they didn't owe her an explanation, but they were friends, or so she thought, and that meant something to her. Obviously, past working the occasional gig together and Dean's fruitless attempts at getting into her pants though, their relationship stemmed little further than that.
Tandy re-opened her eyes as the Impala rumbled to life and glanced out of the window. That was in the past now, though. Dean was back. He was there, he was whole ... somewhat ... and yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about him that seemed different. Something, buried deep beneath the pain and damage and all the words that went unsaid, that screamed he wouldn't be going out that easily, not again, and certainly not without a fight.
Tandy pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, thoughtful.
Sometimes she felt as though Dean were more of a big brother to her than her own siblings, and other times, more frequently so it seemed, she felt something else. It was in times when his eyes would grow dark and heavy and she could feel the intensity of his gaze just as surely as she could feel heat of the sun on her skin. It caused her heart to stutter and her pulse to quicken and made her feel that engorged yearning, that something else.
She shook her head and gazed idly out of the window.
What set Dean a part from other men though went beyond his chiseled jaw and striking smile. He was strong, passionate, giving. There was a surety in the way that he held himself, the man who had been to Hell and back, as though he had been weighed and measured and had somehow come away fiercer, more determined. When you walked alongside him, it was like walking alongside an army of men. You felt the weight of your own troubles lift, overcome by a sense of complete and utter safety. He was Dean freakin' Winchester, a righteous man, a force to be reckoned with, and not even death could stop him.
Except for, well, that last time ...
Tandy didn't know whether her newfound thoughts towards the wayward hunter scared her or excited her, but either way, it didn't matter. Dean was every inch his father's son, just as she was every inch her mother's daughter, and any man whose last name was Winchester was a dead no-no in her books. Even if he did look at her in such a way that made her hands tremble and her insides turn to jelly.
"Tan?" Dean asked, his voice penetrating her thoughts as he peered at her through the rear-view mirror.
It was obvious that he'd asked her a question, and she'd been too damned busy daydreaming about him to realise it. Shoot.
"Erm, what was that, Dean-o?"
"I asked if you wanted something to eat?" Dean repeated, quirking a perfect brow.
"Oh, no, no, I'm good." Tandy muttered, picking at a loose thread on her denim hot pants.
"You sure? You know, I always say, you should never hunt on an empty stomach."
"How about we just toast this big bad and then I'll treat y'all to some burgers afterwards?" Tandy suggested, avoiding Dean's gaze.
"Works for me." Sam murmured from the front seat, pouring over a map of the Atchafalaya basin that was spread open in his lap.
"And a drink as well, for old times' sake?" Dean suggested, hopeful.
Tandy smirked then and met his gaze. What the heck. She at least owed them that. "Sure thing, just don't get stupid drunk again. We wouldn't want a repeat of last time. I don't think my mama could handle another lap dance, even if she does say that you're as pretty as moonlight on the bayou."
Sam raised his shaggy head and chuckled. "Told you."
Dean rolled his eyes and pretended to ignore the warmth that began to creep across his cheeks.
"That was a one-time thing. A Winchester Special." He muttered, embarrassed.
"Oh my god!" Sam exclaimed, laughing loudly now. "That's right! You called it that, didn't you?! A Winchester Special!"
Tandy gasped, her laughter now joining Sam's.
Dean scowled and rolled down the window, allowing the slight breeze to fan his flushed cheeks. "Come on, laugh it up, laugh it up." He took turns to glare at them both, but, if he were being completely honest, he had to admit that there was something utterly fulfilling about the sound of his brother's laughter, intermingled with that of the hot swamp chick's that just felt right.
Dean, unable to deny the infectiousness of their laughter any longer let slip his own smirk, feeling pretty damn convinced that is was a sound that he could definitely get used to, and soon he was laughing, too.
From then on, their laughter continued to flow as they shared memories from their past, along with jokes about Dean's abysmal cooking and Sam's terrible gas.
Sam and Dean began arguing about who delivered the final blow in a blaze of glory on their previous hunt while Tandy remained silent, a grin on her face. They were both dead wrong. She was the one who ganked the evil bastard, not them, but she let it slide as they squabbled, glad to just be in their company again. But her happiness didn't last for long and soon, that sharp, stabbing pain from before resurfaced, darker and more vicious.
Dean was back, she reminded herself. He was back and they were here and everything was as it should be.
So why did it still hurt so bad?
Tandy folded her arms over her lap and peered out of the window. The brothers bickering faded off into the distance and she let her thoughts be overtaken by the sound of the wind whipping through the windows and the flickering image of the passing trees.
Dean hauled the whip and his duffel bag out of the trunk and slung it over his shoulder before helping Tandy with her back pack. Sam was scouting the perimeter, laying down bags of garlic and salt that were designed to weaken the Aswang further.
"So, you think this thing'll show? I mean, it knows it's going to be vulnerable and we aren't exactly packing lightly." Dean said, brandishing the whip for full effect.
Tandy rolled her shoulders and cocked her head to one side. "Hm, well, it will if it's hungry enough."
"And you do look good enough to eat." Dean mumbled.
"What was'at?" Tandy asked.
"Nothing."
Keep it cool, Dean, he told himself. You'll only scare her off. Again.
Tandy had fallen unusually silent for the latter part of the car ride and he suspected that it wasn't all to do with the hunt.
"Tommy said he saw the Aswang from his pirogue which means it prob'ly hunts closer to the water's edge, where it can easily dispose of its victims remains." Tandy said before zipping up her pack and sliding it into place. "The only problem is, they take on the form of a human durin' the day, so we're goin' to have to get close enough to be sure before we kill it."
"Close enough to see our inverted reflection in its eyes, at least." Dean contributed.
"Should be a piece of cake, right?" Tandy grinned wickedly, all-of-a-sudden a fearless bad-ass.
Dean chuckled. "I like your enthusiasm, kid." What he wanted to say was that he found her enthusiasm dead sexy, but after the way she had appeared in the car, so terribly wounded, he decided that he was done with being a pest, well, for now at least.
"Well, shucks, what can I say?" Tandy smirked, fluffing her hair. "I'm a glass half full kinda gal."
"Bags are in place and we're good to go." Sam informed them, re-joining the duo.
"Ready to kick some ass-wang?" Dean exclaimed, cracking the whip enthusiastically.
Tandy laughed and shook the bag of spices in her hand, allowing the adrenaline of the hunt to overtake her.
"Boys, don't you know it!" She beamed before taking off along the banks of the basin with both Sam and Dean, eager, at her heels.
