The next morning Dean felt as though he'd gone ten rounds with a professional boxer and had come off second best. Slowly, he shimmied into his jeans and managed, though not without some difficulty, to slide into his socks and boots. He then glanced longingly at his black v-neck and shook his head. There was no way that he would be able to pull that over his head, not when he could barely lift his arms as it was.

He then trailed his gaze over to the hulking mass that was Sam, slumbering peacefully in the bed beside his, long limbs splayed awkwardly across the cotton sheets and frowned.

He hadn't heard his brother come in last night, though that could have been because of the handful of Xannie's he'd popped along with a shot of potent moonshine before bed. It must have been well after midnight though, when the pain meds had finally kicked, and he could only guess what Sam had been up to in that time. It had also given him an annoyingly long time to ponder over the blue-eyed bombshell that had slept two doors down from them.

Dean hadn't seen Tandy since she had caught him in her room, but he had to admit, he did feel like kind of a creep and could only imagine what she must have been thinking. She already thought that he was a pervert and he didn't exactly deny the fact that he wanted to jump her bones when she'd ask him, because, well, he did, obviously. Any man with a pulse, whether he would 'fess up to it or not, would, Sam included. He was only human, after all, and flesh called to flesh, especially flesh that was as smooth and pretty as hers.

Dirty, sinful thoughts of her splayed naked across her four-poster bed had also crossed his mind while he had waited for the drugs to take affect and hadn't helped his situation in the slightest. Because of his broken bones, he couldn't even throw his hand down his pants and rub one out, so aside from being frustratingly handicapped, he was also in desperate need of some 'release'.

After spending dinner with the voodooiene alone the previous evening, Maggie had tended to his wounds without her daughter's assistance, much to his disappointment. Although, he did have to admit, the woman had worked some serious mojo because the gash in his palm was barely visible now. His broken ribs though, well, they were another matter entirely.

Dean heard motion from below and decided that he could do without the shirt, for now at least. He trudged down the grand staircase and rounded the corner. Immediately, he spotted Tandy lounging in the breakfast nook, dressed in little more than a black tank top and boy shorts - her pyjamas, apparently - and smirked. She was a welcoming sight, even now, with her smudged mascara and tussled hair. She was pouring over several newspaper clippings and nursed a steaming mug of coffee in her hands.

She glanced up and offered him a small smile in return, her eyes briefly running down the lengths of his torso. She then raised the mug to her lips and let her eyes wander back down to the clippings and Dean was certain that he could hear her heart beat faster from across the room.

Oh, yeah, she could deny it all she wanted to, but she was so into him.

Dean smirked and his eyes then flickered over to Maggie. She was bent over the island bench, pouring left-over gumbo from the night before into plastic containers.

She peered up at him as he entered the kitchen and smiled.

"Mornin', sher." She greeted. "Ain't you a sight for sore eyes."

Dean felt his cheeks twinge pink. He had a feeling that her comment had less to do with his bruised rib cage and more to do with the fact that it was bare, but he chuckled nonetheless.

"Morning. Is that bacon?" He asked, gesturing towards a tall pile on the bench.

"Help yaself." Maggie beamed.

Dean snagged a piece and carefully popped it into his mouth, almost moaning. He had to admit, he was beginning to feel a little spoiled. He wasn't used to being treated this way and it was in moments like these that he realised just how much he truly missed his mom.

"Tan, can you watch the kettle for me?" Maggie asked, removing her apron. "I have to go and brew some bottles for Tommy in the shed. Apparently, they had a big'un last night."

"Damn Tommy, gettin' all my tips." Tandy muttered sulkily. Despite this, she nodded and wriggled out of her seat.

Dean paused, his hand mid-way towards snatching up his second piece of bacon, and ogled Tandy as she crossed the room. Her teensy tiny shorts had ridden up several inches and could barely contain her backside, and damn it if that wasn't just a whole lotta juicy.

"Y'know, Dean, if you ain't careful, bugs'll fly into your mouth and lay eggs in your brain." She joked, her deliciously plump backside still facing him.

Quickly, Dean snapped his jaw shut. "Woman, can you blame me?" He asked, incredibly thankful for his tight jeans in that moment.

Tandy turned then, the scolding kettle in her hands and quirked a brow. "You got a problem with my pyjamas, Winchester?" She asked. "And be careful how you answer that, I got a pot of boilin' water here and I ain't afraid to use it."

Dean gulped. "For such a little thing, you can be truly terrifying, did you know that?"

Tandy smirked, pleased with his response, and set the kettle down to cool. "Don't let that bacon go cold, now, mama cooked it just for you. You and that brother'a yours. Where is he, anyway?"

"Sweepn." Dean mumbled around a mouthful of food. Now that she had turned to face him, Tandy appeared to visibly relax, unaware that her front was just as distracting as her back.

"Actually, I'm awake." Sam countered, slinking into the kitchen. He looked a heck of a lot better than he had during the previous evening and Tandy supposed that perhaps he really did just need to sleep off a rotten stomach.

"Tommy!" Tandy exclaimed suddenly, rushing to the back door. She opened it and allowed a young man through the ingress. He was dressed in a loose, grey crew neck and faded chinos.

The kid looked to be about a hundred and fifty pounds and none of it was fat. Dean wasn't threatened though. Him? Of a kid? No way.

Tandy leant forward and embraced him, her eyes were closed and a soft smile was playing on her lips. Her palms flattened over his broad shoulders and she held him tightly, closely, intimately.

Dean felt his heart drop into his stomach and the bacon that he had just consumed threatened to claw its way back up his oesophagus. Okay, so maybe he was just a little bit threatened.

"Glad you're okay, Tan. Wouldn't 'ave been able to live with myself if some'in bad were to happen to ya." Tommy mumbled; his cheek pressed against her golden hair.

"Aw, Tommy, tough as nails I am, you know that." Tandy responded, opening her eyes. She then pulled back and gestured towards them. "These are some friends of ours, Dean and Sam Winchester. They'll be stayin' with us for a little while."

The large, built-like-a-quarter-back-but-not-a-threat kid let go of Tandy and offered them both a shy nod.

"It'll be nice to have the help." He smiled.

"Oh no, kid, don't get it twisted, we are not here to help you mix herbs and poke needles into dolls." Dean quipped, irreverent.

Tandy rolled her eyes. "Actually, they're hunters." She explained.

"Oh. Well, that makes sense 'en." Tommy snickered.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean snapped, defensive.

"Woah, cool it." Sam cautioned, sensing his brothers growing agitation.

"Heck, sorry. I meant no offence." Tommy apologised.

Tandy scoffed. "You have nothin' to be sorry about, Tommy, Dean here just thinks his ass weighs a tonne."

"Oh, you really wanna talk about who's ass weighs a tonne, huh, sweetheart?" Dean shot scathingly.

"And here we go." Sam mumbled, smacking his palm against his forehead.

"Quit lookin' at it then!" Tandy choked.

"Quit dangling it in front of me then!"

"Oh my god. You wish!"

"I'm pretty sure that it's fairly obvious to everyone in this room that I do!"

Tandy stopped then, silenced by his confession and immediately burst into laughter.

"Oh, well, I'm glad you find this utterly amusing. I'll bet I'm not the only one who finds your attire just a little distracting either, right, Sammy?"

"Hey, leave me out of this." Sam said, raising his hands in defense.

"Whatever. Pussy." Dean spat. "You'll back me up, surely?" He queried, fixing Tommy with a hard stare.

Tommy shrugged. "Uh-uh, brother, you're on ya own with this one."

"Well sorr-y I'm the only one in this room with a penis." Dean spluttered, exasperated.

"That ain't it, Dean, you're just the only one in this room who thinks with his." Tandy corrected.

"Oh, screw you." Dean hissed. "I'm going out."

"Where to?" Sam piped up, concerned. "You can't drive."

"I'll walk then." Dean growled.

"Shirtless?" Sam asked.

"I don't care!" Dean stormed out of the back door and hobbled down the steps, clutching his broken ribs, an angry pout on his lips.

"Well, as amusing as that was, you know, he really does dig you." Sam said sheepishly, his hazel eyes addressing Tandy.

She shook her head, unconvinced. "Nah, he just has the hots for me. He'll get over it."

"Now, I don't even know the guy, but even I'm thinkin' it goes a little depper'n that." Tommy contributed.

"Jesus, not you, too, Tommy." Tandy groaned.

"Hey, I'm just sayin', any guy that blows up like that in a room full'a other guys ain't just lookin' to lay one on you, missy."

Tandy sighed. So much for "going easier on him". Maybe she did go too far this time.

"Fine." She breathed, defeated. "I'll go'n find him then."

"You might wanna put some pants on first." Tommy advised, chuckling.

Tandy nodded and made her way towards the door but Sam was quick to hold out his arm, effectively blocking her.

"And just, don't beat around the bush. Dean isn't too good with things like that. If you don't like him, be straight up with him about it. I know he can come across as a cheese ball sometimes, but he's genuinely a good guy. His heart is in the right place. At least, it is with you. I know that much." He explained softly.

Damn that Baby Winchester and his freakin' adorable puppy-dog eyes, she cursed inwardly, swallowing thickly. "Right. Thanks for the advice, Sam-boy."

"I mean it." Sam pressed on. "He does things without thinking and he can be a bit of a bone head, but no one, and I mean no one, cares more deeply or more fiercely than he does."

"You think he honestly has feelin's for me?" She asked nervously, her voice small and fractured.

Sam smirked, his dimpled cheeks almost effective as his brothers winning smile and said, "Go and find out."