A/N: So I'm putting this here just to do it. I figure if anyone from the old days happens to still use their account and read it, cool, but if not that's okay, too. Basically, I went back to some of my old stories for my own mental health reasons and got a little inspired to try and write again. For that reason, here's a little addendum that takes place after the end of Welcome to the Jungle.

There were a lot of things Dean liked about Ty. He ran through them in his head.

He liked how she seemed to know almost every song he played and would sing along under her breath so you almost couldn't hear her. And he also liked how, when she thought she was alone, she would sing louder in a voice that, at least in his opinion (he was sure if he ever said as much she'd disagree and probably be pissed at him for "spying" on her or something), sounded pretty nice.

Actually, come to think of it, a lot of the things he liked about her were the things they bickered about. He liked how, in just the few weeks they'd spent on the road together, she'd taken to wearing a tank top and a pair of his boxer briefs to bed even though he grumbled at her about stealing his stuff. His lips twitched up into a brief smirk as the memory of the first time he'd seen her dressed that way flashed through his mind.

Dean was propped on his elbows on the hotel room bed, casually finishing off his beer and watching some mindless television as the day wound down to a close. Sam sat across the small room, engrossed in his laptop, his own beer sweating in front of him on the coffee table. Ty had retreated to the bathroom, declaring she wanted to take a shower before bed. They had yet to really talk about the sleeping arrangements, Dean realized. After a long exhausting day of hunting, by the time they had dragged themselves here, no one had been thinking much past collapsing. Well, there was no way he was getting up and going back over to the office now to try and get another room. It was getting kind of impractical to keep getting multiple rooms anyway. They could all share and hopefully this time there wouldn't be any weird vision dream crap.

Dean opened his mouth, about to inform Sam that his bed was forfeit if Ty didn't feel like taking the floor this time, when the bathroom door opened and Ty stepped into the room. Dean felt his eyes widen and his mouth hung open at the sight of her. Her hair was still fairly wet and dripping onto her black tank top, causing the already fairly form-fitting top to hug her damp skin even closer. But what was really surprising was what she was wearing below that.

"Are those my…" Dean finally managed to sputter out the question.

Ty blushed, but continued to towel-dry her hair like there was nothing unusual happening. She purposely didn't look at Dean, though, while she did it. She'd suspected when she'd secretly snagged a pair of Dean's underwear from his bag to change into after her shower that she might be pushing things a bit. They still hadn't talked about their relationship, both in unspoken agreement to avoid defining it. But she had been with them on the road for almost three weeks now and it wasn't like she and Dean hadn't...ahem...engaged in any extracurricular activities in that time. So she'd made an impulsive decision to do something that was maybe a little girly, but that demonstrated their closeness, their (dare she even think the word?) intimacy.

All romantic implications aside, it was also somewhat embarrassing for a different reason. Ty didn't typically show off her legs, preferring instead to wear leggings or tights if she was going to wear a dress or skirt. She didn't know why exactly, but it had always just left her feeling somewhat vulnerable and exposed to have her legs bare. And yet here she was, standing in front of Dean,who she could justify to herself since he'd seen her in nothing at all, but also Sam. She resisted the urge to retreat back into the bathroom as Sam jumped to his feet.

"I...uh...should I...were you…" Sam fumbled over his words, looking more panicked over the situation in the motel room than he had looked at any point during their hunt earlier. His face looked even redder than Ty felt hers must be and she caught his eyes flicking towards the door like he was debating making a break for it.

Ty held her hands up in front of her in a "slow down" gesture, "Okay, everybody chill out."

"Sorry," Sam said with an apologetic smile, visibly calming down a bit, "but I can...uh...go see about another room…"

Ty shook her head quickly, "Don't be stupid, Sam. We're all exhausted. I just want to sleep."

Sam heaved a relieved sigh and plopped back down on the ratty hotel loveseat. Dean, meanwhile, was now over his initial shock and appreciation of Ty's sleepwear and more than a little annoyed that they'd had their little conversation like he wasn't even there. He rolled back to his feet and moved between the two constant sources of his annoyance.

"Uh, hello? Yeah, remember me?" he grumbled at them, "Don't I get a say in anything? I mean, chick steals my stuff and now…"

"Shut up, Dean." Ty interrupted, seemingly unconcerned by any complaints he might have. She leaned around him to continue speaking to Sam, "And Sam, I swear, no...uh...hanky-panky while you're in the room. Ever."

"Hey!" Dean protested.

"Thanks, Ty." Sam replied, also ignoring his brother. He smiled his gratitude and heaved a chuckle, "That's a relief."

"Dude! I wouldn't!" Dean snapped at him, then continued somewhat under his breath, but certainly loud enough for Sam to hear, "Although you could probably learn a few things."

"You." Ty said, tossing the towel back into the bathroom, then moving over to him and pressing her pointer finger into his chest, "I'm beat and I want to sleep in a bed. Be a grownup and share yours with me."

Looking down at her and meeting her determined gaze, Dean felt his annoyance evaporate and his blood run hotter for a completely different reason. Leaning down closer to her ear, voice dropping to a husky whisper, he asked, "You sure you don't want our own room tonight?"

He was rewarded for his efforts by a noticeable shiver running through Ty's body, but her hand flattened against his chest and pushed him back a step, "Get real, Winchester."

With that she turned around and walked around to the other side of the bed, placing herself furthest from the door, lifting up the covers and sliding in. Dean watched as she scooted down into a comfortable position, wondering for just a moment if she had consciously chosen that side and if so, what her reasons were, but ultimately glad for her decision because it was what he would have picked, too. Maybe it was just another one of those things, the small but increasingly numerous and meaningful things, between them where they just jived without having to talk about it or really even think about it. It was those things that had really allowed this girl, out of all the girls Dean had been with, to worm her way into his life as a more permanent fixture than he had ever anticipated.

But, rather than let her know any of that, in typical Dean Winchester fashion, he instead pulled off his overshirt, shed his jeans, and climbed in next to her grumbling, "Whatever. Just keep your hands off my stuff."

Blinking out of the memory, Dean returned to his mental list-making. He liked her longer hair, liked running his fingers through it or tugging on it to get her to tilt her head for a smoldering kiss, although she kept talking about how she ought to cut it short, that it made more sense for hunting.

"Ugh, it's too long." Ty complained as she tugged a brush through her hair, wincing as it caught on tangles.

Their latest hunt, which turned out to be a monster with some wicked fangs called a Crocotta, had ended with a fight in the woods and Ty was still trying to untangle all the leaves and twigs from her unruly locks while they waited for Sam to return with food and supplies. She'd been toying with the idea of cutting it off for awhile now and probably already would have if she hadn't suffered during the pageboy haircut fad of the '90s and been somewhat traumatized about cutting her hair short ever since. What had her mom been thinking to inflict that upon her?

Finally succeeding in getting the last of the tangles out, Ty pulled a handful of strands around to hang over the front of her shoulder, frowning down thoughtfully at it, "I should cut it."

Dean glanced up from the magazine he was reading. Well, to be completely honest, he wasn't doing a whole lot of reading at the moment since he had the latest issue of Busty Asian Beauties open inside of Classic Car Roundup, but no one else needed to know that.

"What? Why?" he asked, his eyes still distractedly flitting back down to the full-page pin-up. Although the model couldn't have been more different than Ty in almost every way, she, too, had long hair. However, Dean figured it probably wasn't in his best interest to use her as an example of why long hair was sexy.

"Because," Ty replied, heaving an aggravated sigh as she flipped her hair back over her shoulder and got back to her feet. Dean hastily closed the magazine and tossed it in his bag before she could come any closer, "it's a pain. And, I mean, isn't it like a tactical disadvantage or something?"

Dean smirked as he got up to meet her as she approached. He reached out and placed one hand on her forearm while trailing the fingers of his other hand through her hair.

"Tactical disadvantage?" he teased.

"Yeah." Ty insisted, looking up into his face with a familiar stubborn cast to her features, "Like something could grab it and pull me by it."

Dean fisted his hand in her hair and gently but firmly tugged her head back. His eyes blazed as he looked down at her and Ty felt like her legs had suddenly turned to rubber, "Like this?"

Ty didn't reply, but instead fisted both hands in Dean's shirt, partially to keep from melting into a puddle on the floor and partially to pull his face down to hers. They exchanged fiery kisses until the sound of Sam returning in the Impala caused them to reluctantly break apart.

And along those lines, of course there were other physical things he liked. Sure, she didn't exactly fit the mold of most of his former conquests. In fact, he couldn't even picture her in some skimpy dress and stiletto heels. It just wasn't her. For all her bluster and bravado, she was actually kind of shy about her body. He never would have guessed it about himself, but he liked that, too.

"You know, Dean, I'm from a southern state. I've fired a gun before. You've seen me fire a gun before. This isn't necessary. I don't need your 'training.'" Ty complained, arms crossed and gazing petulantly at him from where she was leaning against the side of the Impala.

Dean lowered the trunk slightly so he could gaze over it at her with raised eyebrows, "Oh, sorry, Annie Oakley. I didn't realize you were beyond needing to practice."

Ty sighed and pushed herself off the Impala to stride back to the trunk to join him. She hated it when he had a point. Still, she couldn't disguise her interest as she peered into the trunk at the amassed arsenal, watching as Dean pulled out a handgun, checked the clip, reinserted it, double-checked the safety, and then passed it to her. He grabbed a second gun for himself, stashing it in his waistband against his back, and a box of ammo before closing the trunk.

"Come on. It'll be fun." he remarked, leading the way off into an empty field next to the deserted pull-off where he'd parked the car.

"Famous last words." Ty retorted, but she followed him anyway.

They paced out to about the center of the field when Dean waved at her to wait there and continued over to a tree lining the border. He pulled something out of his pocket and unfolded it before using his pocket knife to pin it to the tree. Ty took a few more steps towards him, her brow furrowed as she looked at what he had posted, presumably as their target.

"Is that Count Chocula?" she asked, incredulously.

Dean grinned back at her, evidently quite proud of himself. It looked like he must have cut the image out of a cereal box.

"Vampire." he corrected.

"Dork." Ty replied.

"Bit…" Dean caught himself before the automatic response could make it fully out of his mouth. He coughed like he had something in his throat, "Brat."

Ty gazed coolly at him like she had no doubt what he'd been about to say, she wrapped both her hands around the gun and slowly raised it to aim at the target, "I think I'd move if I were you, Dean."

Dean's eyes widened and he quickly moved away from the tree. He didn't think Ty would take a shot while he was standing there, but he wasn't in a hurry to test that theory. He gave her a wide berth as he walked back to join her. She never lowered her aim, still squinting across the field at the Count. When he reached her side she didn't look at him, but pointedly moved her hand up and flipped the safety. Dean again bit back the impulse to call her a name he usually reserved for Sam.

After about an hour, Dean called their target practice to an end. Despite her reluctance, Ty wasn't a bad student. She took his advice without argument, only really returning snark for snark. And overall, she wasn't a bad shot. She didn't have the practice that a Winchester had, but by the end of the hour he could already see some improvement. He retrieved their target and presented it to her, "Nice work."

Ty beamed back at him in response, taking the thoroughly annihilated Count Chocula from him like it was a precious gift. Dean blinked, momentarily at a loss for words in the face of that expression on her face. She looked so happy. It wasn't something he was used to seeing on the people around him and he certainly wasn't used to being the cause. It made his chest feel tight and put a lump in his throat. He cleared his throat to try and dispel it and stubbornly refused to think about it any further.

Ty, oblivious to Dean's thoughts, snagged his wrist in a loose grip and tugged him closer, "You were right."

Dean sent her an exaggerated look of shock, "What was that? I don't think I heard you right."

Ty continued to smile at him, but transferred her hand from his wrist to the back of his neck. She leaned forward and breathed her reply against his lips, "You heard me."

Dean grinned and closed the gap between them, sliding his arms around her to pull her even closer. Since leaving Arizona, they hadn't had too many moments alone together between the job and living with Sam. Plus, after everything that had happened when she was possessed, Dean felt like he should probably take things a little slower. In a way, he'd cheated on her the worst way a person possibly could by sleeping with her body while something else was in control. She seemed to have forgiven him, but you never knew with women. So, as much as he was enjoying their makeout session and would love to take it further, he let her take the lead.

Ty, meanwhile, was struggling with the whole concept of coherent thoughts. Granted, any little touch (hell, sometimes even just a look) from Dean seemed to make her brain short circuit, but this was different. A part of her, shoved down deep where she didn't have to acknowledge it, still harbored the worry that the demon had been right, that Dean would always want possessed-Ty more than plain-old-regular-Ty. But the scorching heat of his lips and hands on her told a different story and she couldn't get enough of it. Feeling almost desperate to increase the contact, she started to yank at his clothes.

Dean didn't need to be asked twice. With a skill born from practice he helped her with his clothes without pausing in his assault on her mouth and neck. In short order he was down to his underwear and she was breathless. He pulled back just a bit, still trying to let her run the show, but also impatient to level the playing field, so to speak, in terms of state of undress.

Ty took the opportunity to try and catch her breath, but was too captivated by both the sight of Dean and the sensations he had awoken in her to notice that he was waiting for her to make the next move. She shook her head to try and clear it, but it didn't seem to do any good.

"I think you might be a little overdressed for this, sweetheart." Dean finally quipped at her to prod her out of her breathless staring.

Ty's face immediately flushed a slightly different shade and she dropped her gaze to the ground. Her hands skimmed the hem of her shirt, fiddling with the fabric like she didn't know what to do. Misinterpreting her reaction as a sign that she didn't actually want to take this any further, Dean felt like someone had doused him in cold water, "If you don't want…"

"No!" Ty cried out immediately, not even letting him finish the thought, her gaze snapping back up to his, "I do! It's just…"

Her voice trailed off and her eyes slid back down to focus on the ground again. This version of her, hesitant, uncertain, even shy, was not something he'd really experienced before. Their few other encounters had been more of a whirlwind with no pause for thought until it was over. The other times when she had been sultry, seductive, and teasing hadn't really been her. Ty was acutely aware of that fact. That combined with her long-standing self-esteem issues related to her appearance had culminated in her frustrating inability to make this move on her own, to literally bare herself to his scrutiny. She wanted him, wanted this, but she just couldn't make that move on her own.

Ty struggled to explain herself while internally screaming at herself and calling herself every name she could think of. This was so stupid! She'd slept with him the first night she met him and yet she was going to be all embarrassed about undressing in front of him in the fading daylight? What the hell was wrong with her?

Furious at herself, Ty closed her hands into tight fists, gripping tightly to the bottom of her shirt. She was so absorbed in her own inner turmoil that she didn't notice Dean move until he took ahold of her hands with his, making her jump in surprise. When she looked up at him, he kissed her again before she could say anything, wordlessly trying to remind her of how he felt about all this since comforting words weren't really his forte. But what he did know at this point for sure, had known for awhile now, was this was about more than just sex for him. Somehow, he needed to make sure she knew that, too.

"It's okay." he said quietly against her lips, leaning his forehead down to touch hers, "Just...tell me what I can do to help."

Ty sighed softly, her breath brushing his lips like another kiss. She wouldn't say the words out loud again because she knew he couldn't say them back to her, wasn't ready for that step, but her heart swelled full of love at his words with an almost painful intensity. It still boggled her mind that a guy like this cared about her. For the life of her, she couldn't imagine why. And for all that she knew they were both emotionally incompetant, he was really trying. She had to do the same even if it made her feel like a complete and utter fool.

"Will you...will you do it?" Ty asked, hating how pitiful she sounded.

It took Dean a moment to decipher what she meant. He followed her gaze down to their hands on her shirt and suddenly it clicked.

"Undress you?" he asked, just to make sure he wasn't misunderstanding her again.

Ty nodded silently, her cheeks still bright red. Dean lifted one hand to her chin, tilting her head up so she'd see the wide grin on his face.

"Hell, yeah!" he agreed enthusiastically. He didn't really understand why this was an issue, but if he ever declined a woman's request to take their clothes off, there was for damn sure something seriously, life-threateningly wrong with him, "Jesus, any time you want, babe."

Ty flashed a relieved smile back at him then kissed him again. That wouldn't be the last time she'd take him up on that offer. In fact, for the next couple weeks, both Ty and Dean remained fairly dedicated to finding time for training.

Of course, they weren't just physically compatible. She was fun to be around. He particularly liked her sharp wit and dry sarcasm. The way she almost always seemed to find a comeback. And he really liked how hot she looked when she was so mad she couldn't think of one. Which is probably why he couldn't help but press her buttons, get her riled up until her face flushed and her hands balled into fists. Of course, she was pretty good at pressing his buttons, too.

But he wasn't focusing on that, he reminded himself. He was focusing on why Ty meant so much to him and why, despite the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, this wasn't a colossal mistake.

Dean glanced over at the blonde in question, sitting next to him in the car. Her hands were wrapped tightly around the steering wheel and the smile on her face went from ear-to-ear. That feeling in his stomach ratcheted up a notch. He really should have never made that promise back when they'd been fighting to stop Old Yellow Eyes to let her drive if they made it through it. He should have known there was no way she'd forget it.

"Okay, take it easy. We're just gonna go for a short drive, alright? Be gentle with her." Dean cautioned, placing a soothing hand on the glovebox as if to reassure the Impala as much as himself.

"I know how to drive, Dean." Ty replied, rolling her eyes at him, "Chill out."

But her wide grin didn't diminish and neither did Dean's anxiety. Ty gunned the ignition and made a small sound of delight as the engine roared to life then calmed to a loud purr. Dean almost relaxed enough to smile at her reaction to the car (that was another thing he liked about her, after all, was how much she loved his car) but then she reached down beside her and pulled out her CD player and cassette adapter. All traces of a smile vanished from his features. What fresh hell was this?

Ty saw the look on his face and her grin took on a decidedly more devilish quality. She popped open the CD player and tilted it toward him so he could see the disc.

"I've been preparing for this moment." She announced as he glanced down to see a disc that was blank except for three words written in sharpie in Ty's handwriting: Angry Chick Rock.

Dean groaned and flopped back in his seat, letting his head roll back to look up at the ceiling, one hand coming to his forehead as if he was in pain.

"Why did I agree to this?" He asked no one in particular.

Ty ignored him and stuck the adapter in the tape deck and hit play. Most of the mix she'd made was old school rock that Dean had no business grumbling about: Heart, Joan Jett, Pat Benetar. But the first song she'd picked just to mess with him.

"Take this pink ribbon off my eyes, I'm exposed and it's no big surprise, Don't you think I know exactly where I stand, This world is forcing me to hold your hand..."

Gwen Stefani blasted out of the speakers and Dean groaned even louder as Ty put the car in drive. He could barely watch as she pulled the car out of the parking lot and onto the main road. His whole body felt tensed for a blow that could land at any moment and the chick music assaulting his ears was not helping.

"Okay, haha. Very funny." Dean griped, leaning forward and turning the music down, "Less messing with me and more paying attention to the road."

Ty rolled her eyes at him again and continued singing along with the song despite the decrease in volume. Dean glared back at her, thinking he might have to take back his feelings about her singing.

By the end of the song, Ty had reached a lonely two-lane highway. Dean allowed himself to relax a bit now that they were away from the majority of any other traffic. He pulled his eyes off the road to look over at the only girl he'd allowed to drive his car. She was still smiling, but now it was a contented smile, and her body had settled back against the seat as she let the Impala speed up a bit on the open highway. Dean recognized that look on her face, knew that feeling of peace that the rumble of this particular engine could bring. Seeing her expression made him forget his worries, at least for now, and he took a conscious moment to try to memorize every detail. This might be the new thing he liked about her most.