A/N: For Jessi Romantc:
Once this was supposed to be an entry to Jessi's Flashfic Comp. However, the muse hit and life happened, so I turned it in to her birthday gift on her request. I hope that you like it, Jessi! The story will be finished on her birthday.
Beta'ing thanks go out to Tygermine, and you're quite evil because you gave me even more inspiration...
It had been quite an easy case to solve. Dean did not even know why they had bothered to head all the way South to western Louisiana. A witch had been terrorizing the quiet little town of Zwolle. The witch had been a borrower not smart enough to stay under the radar long enough to finesse her powers and cause some actual damage. The whole mess was easily mopped up with just a couple of witch-killing bullets. It was only a couple of hours of work and they had driven all the way down from a difficult vampire case up in Oregon. He did not know why they had not just left this case to some local hunter. It was such a straightforward case, any hunter with a couple of witch killing bullets would have solved it. Sam had said some bullshit about needing to be in that quiet little town. What, other than an incompetent witch, could be in a small town like Zwolle? But he was not in the mood for a grumpy Sam for the upcoming few weeks, so he went along with it. His little brother could really get what he wanted only by the threat of ruining the atmosphere in the car.
As they stopped for the traffic lights on the outskirts of the quiet town his eyes locked on the mane of brown curls, and the woman attached to them, walking on the pavement just in front of him. His eyes followed the woman towards the porch of a neat wooden cottage. When she turned to open the door, he caught her amber eyes and could not look away. Something inside of him made him unable to look away from those amber eyes full with expression like she'd seen more than she should have. He had always ridiculed people who said eyes are the window to the soul but for the first time in his life he felt like they were. He felt like he could see straight into her soul, and what he saw was simply magical. He has always seen the shadows of pain and sorrow in far more wretched creatures. Not in someone as beautiful as her. Something about that darkness in her called to him as if sensing a kindred spirit.
"Ahum, Dean, it's green," Sam's voice brought him back to the present.
"Huh, what?" Dean shook his head and looked over to his brother sitting in the passenger seat.
"The traffic light, Dean," Sam looked over at his brother, the amusement clear on his face, "it's green, though if you don't hurry up it won't be for long."
With one last glance at the woman on the porch, Dean turned his eyes to the road ahead of him and shifted the car into first gear and drove off towards another adventure, a pair of amber eyes forever in his memory.
Dean had told Sam they simply had to take this case because no one else would care about a few missing women in a small town in western Louisiana, silently hoping Sam wouldn't recognize the name of the town. It could very well not be a supernatural case at all. But he had a feeling this case was.
In truth those amber eyes had never left him, it had been more than a year since the incident at the traffic lights and he could still describe them like it had been yesterday, and women were missing in Zwolle and she was probably still living there. She could be missing already, or she could go missing next. No other hunter would pick up the case until it got out of hand, and he needed to make sure she was safe. It was a more legit reason to drive across the country than the borrower had been. In Dean's opinion anyway.
On a particular morning driving through town, Dean spotted a brown curly-haired woman signalling for a ride, near the now well-known traffic lights, he had been trying to incorporate into all their drives through the town. Just to spot her, to see if she was safe. A weight he had been carrying since reading the first reports of missing women in Zwolle fell off his shoulders, she was alive.
"Why are you stopping?" Sam asked.
"The lady wants a ride, we might be able to provide,"
"We're on a case, Dean. We are here to do our job not to be taxi drivers," The annoyance seeping through in Sam's voice.
"And we could ask her questions when we drive her to her destination," he said as he rolled down the window and smirked at the woman with those familiar amber eyes, effectively shutting off the conversation with his brother.
"Hello, darling, what can I do for you?"
"If you lot are done arguing I'd love a ride into the town centre, my car just broke down this morning and my shift in the library is starting in half an hour." She talked frantically; he didn't expect to find a woman with an English accent in this part of Louisiana. It only intrigued him more.
"Calm down, sweetheart," Dean tried to say in his most calm tone, "we're heading into town anyway, Sam would you please make some room for the lady,"
Dean looked over to his brother who was signalling if that meant he was supposed to be moving to the backseat. With a curt nod, Dean's intention was clear, and Sam reluctantly moved to the backseat.
"So, what are you guys doing in Zwolle?" The woman asked as she sat down.
"We're FBI agents investigating a case, it's highly classified." Dean was happy they were already dressed into their "interrogation" suits, so they could uphold the ruse.
"And you? That accent doesn't seem to come from around here?" Sam's voice came from the backseat, his legs tucked almost up to his chest up fit his long, lanky body into the small space on the backseat.
"I needed a fresh start," she said, the lack of information in the answer did raise some red flags in Dean's head. Why would the woman not mention why she moved halfway across the world? He had a feeling it was something more important that had made her make the move.
Sam was totally oblivious of Dean's train of thought and continued his questioning.
"How long have you been living here?"
"Just moved here two years ago in May." She seemed to check the numbers in her head, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought, "So that makes it almost three years ago?" Dean couldn't help but want to commit everything he could about her to memory, even small details like the expressions on her face.
"And have you seen any suspicious things over... let's say, the last couple of weeks maybe months?" Sam just kept on pushing on with the case related questions, and all Dean wanted to know was what made this woman leave her home and move across the Atlantic. He desperately wanted to know more about her, but Sam had held the conversation all the way to the library and asked strictly professional questions. She was about to get out of the car without him even knowing her name.
"I'm sorry, we need your name for uhm…"
Balls what was a good excuse?
"For our report." Sam finally did something useful and found the right excuse.
"Hermione Granger, and you are?" The woman said, gathering her stuff.
"Dean… Campbell, and that's my brother and partner Sam Campbell," Dean answered trying to put on his most charming smile.
"Well," Hermione said as she held open the car door, "Thanks for the ride and I hope you crack your case,"
"No problem and keep safe!" Dean said before she shut the door and made her way into the library.
"Keep safe?" Sam hollered, "Who are you and what did you do to my brother?"
"Shut up!" Dean said as he drove off to the house of the last victim all the way on the other side of the small town.
"Where are you going? The motel is in the southern part of town," Sam said after they had investigated all three victims and still had not found a break in the case. It was exhausting, trying to keep someone safe. Without the person or Sam knowing made it even more exhausting.
"I'm going to the library to do some more research; the descriptions the witnesses gave do not overlap with anything in Dad's journals." It was true the disappearances were not in line with the methods described of the creatures in his father's journals, and the library could have some useful information, information about local lore, that kind of stuff. It, however, also had her. And he desperately needed to check on her, make sure she was still safe.
"Have I done all the tests already?" Sam asked with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Several times, you actually tested me when we stepped into the car at the Jones's house," Dean rolled his eyes. "It's me, Sammy, I just want to crack this case, and make sure there will be no more victims." That wasn't a lie, technically. That he also desperately wanted a certain woman to not fall victim to the mysterious creature, was purely on a need-to-know basis. And no one needed to know.
"And I just want a shower, can you please drop me off at the motel before you rush over to do your 'research'," Sam said, making himself comfortable in the passenger seat.
"Sure," Dean answered, turning the car around speeding towards the motel.
"So, I found all these books from the Mulder family estate that tell the stories of the family back in the 1700s in the Netherlands and what happened once they emigrated to the new world," Hermione said as she dropped all the books on the backseat of the car and promptly sat her small body in the passenger seat. "If we could cross-reference it with the journals you say you have at your motel room, we could maybe cut it down to possible creatures and how to kill them."
Dean was speechless, utterly speechless. He had never found a person so willing to understand the supernatural world. And she was not even just grasping the concept, she was blowing the case wide open already with her theories and research work.
"How," Dean rubbed his face, not sure if all of this was even real, "do you just accept all this?" He gestured to nothing particular in the air. "Normally people are not this cool, calm and collected when they hear the truth about our world."
"I guess I'm just a logical thinker and your explanation made sense," she once again gave a vague answer, all the big personal questions he and Sam had asked her over their time in Zwolle had resulted in progressively more vague answers. The only concrete answers she gave were if it was about research, or the small town itself. It only made him want to know the detailed personal answers even more. She was a mystery and if there was anything he liked most; it was cracking a mystery.
"That does not account for all the knowledge you already have about creatures," Dean said somewhat accusingly.
"I've worked with European Mythical literature, back home. It does mention an awful lot of creatures." Another vague answer. "It's the logical explanation that these writers had their inspiration from somewhere," she shrugged, putting a rogue curl behind her ear, and sat back in the passenger seat. "Let's just get to the motel and crack this case."
And crack the case they did. There was only one creature matching the description of what had been plaguing the Mulder family back in the Netherlands that lined up with what was happening in the town now. An Aulken had most likely settled down on the outskirts of the town, all the signs pointed to that.
"You've got the brass bullets?" The female voice from the backseat pitched in. Sitting there, a lot more comfortable than Sam had a couple of days back.
"Yeah, covered in holy water and all," Dean answered slightly irritated. "Why couldn't you just stay inside, it is after women after all." He could not be truly focused on the Aulken and saving the other women it had captured if he needed to also watch out for Hermione, and he could not let anything happen to her. Those amber eyes would never leave his memory and he did not know if he could handle seeing those eyes filled with despair haunting his dreams for the rest of his life.
"I have to see if my theory is correct, and don't worry about me, I can look after myself, thank you very much." She responded very astutely. However, Dean could not see how a 5 '3, 120 lbs woman could defend herself against any creature, especially a creature that was purposefully after young women, but he'd be there to make sure she wouldn't need to defend herself.
The drive to the shed on the old Mulder estate was filled with a tense silence. It felt like the air grew thicker the closer they got.
"I don't think we can persuade you to at least stay in the car?" Sam said as he stepped out of the car himself, walking towards the to gather the necessary weapons.
"I'm not staying in this car, that's for sure," she said, following Sam out of the car and shutting the door firmly, preventing Dean from even starting an argument.
"Damn woman," Dean cursed, slamming his hands on the steering wheel before rushing out of the car catching up with Sam and Hermione who were already heading for the entrance of the shed.
"Isn't Hermione coming too?" Sam asked as Dean sat down in his trusted place behind the steering wheel, "and wasn't there some big gash on your cheek pouring blood down your face the last time I saw you?" His brother added as he looked him over, a surprised look on his face when he didn't find a single scratch on Dean's face.
"She fixed it," Dean said, staring off into nowhere, in particular, eyes unfocused.
"What?" Sam did not seem to get the implication.
"She fixed my cheek. She is a witch. She has a wooden stick. She pointed it at me, said some weird Latin shit and fixed my face." Dean explained, eyes still far in the distance.
"Well, you are still as ugly as ever, so I wouldn't say she fixed it," Sam said, desperately trying to lighten the mood.
"Sam, she fixed it. With magic, she's a witch." Dean stammered, still not fully comprehending it himself.
"And what's the problem, exactly?" Sam asked, playing dumb.
"Don't you understand? That means I need to kill her!" Dean exclaimed, finally turning to face his brother. He was already dreading the moment he might have to kill her.
"Does it, though?" Sam's response confused him How could he let a creature like her life? They had never let a witch live. It was his job, his responsibility, to protect the humans from the supernatural and Hermione was supernatural. She had just with the flick of a piece of wood healed a deep gash in his face. And with a second flick, all the sticky blood had vanished from his skin. She had followed it by telling him she was from a different world; she was a natural-born witch and stepped away from that life after going through a lot in her teenage years. Then she had stepped back, assured him she'd get home safe and simply disappeared into thin air.
The drive back to the motel was quiet, there was not much to talk about, and he had a lot to think about. Had he done the right thing by letting her go? Had he needed to kill her then and there or would it have been the better option to stay and demand more information? He did not know; she did not feel like a dangerous supernatural creature all the times he had been alone with her. If she were truly evil, she would have neutralized the threat of two hunters immediately, right? But then again, witches were devious beings, who bargained with demons for their magic or harvested the magic of the earth.
"What's going on in that small brain of yours?" Sam asked, obviously concerned.
"I just don't understand why a witch would help us catch another creature and heal me when I'm wounded," Dean said, vocalizing the most mysterious puzzle piece of the bunch.
"She's a person, too," Sam started, "And maybe what she told you was true, I haven't seen a witch needing a wooden stick to channel their magic. She might actually be from a different world." He frowned. "Although, it may actually be an adjacent universe if we allow for-"
"That does not mean she's not evil," Dean said, interrupting Sam and repeating the things his father had always told him and his brother in their youth.
"It also doesn't mean she is," Sam countered, as always being the rational one out of the two.
Sam's statement left him speechless. In his panic, he had totally forgotten to look at the problem from all sides. He had failed to do the proper research, to ask the right questions. If he were not so impulsive, he would have had time to question her. To know the answers to those questions, instead of just speculating about what her answers could be. To maybe know what to do.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed, as the realization truly hit him.
"Just drop me off at the motel before you go and chase after her. I'm tired and currently don't have the mental capacity to witness that conversation." Sam said, the yawn and full-body stretch that followed the statement, emphasizing his point even more.
After he dropped Sam off, he went straight to her cottage. He knew the drive there by heart, having driven past there every chance he'd had over the past week. When he arrived, it was pitch black. Not even the porch light was on and when he knocked on the front door, she did not answer. Hermione was either purposely avoiding him or simply not home. She either really did not want to talk to him, or she might be in some serious trouble. The Aulken might have been dealt with but Dean knew all too well about all the things that went bump in the night. Though he also had to remind himself that he and his brother normally classified witches as one of those things. He did not really know why but he could simply not give up yet, which resulted in him aimlessly driving through town. He drove past the library and her small cottage numerous times. However, both places stayed pitch black.
The aimless driving was not for nothing though. After what felt like hours, Dean saw a reassuringly familiar woman walking on the sidewalk. "Need a lift, sweetheart?" Dean asked, pulling up next to her and lowering his window.
"Dean!" Hermione seemed shocked by the situation. "What in Godric's name are you doing here?"
"Who the hell is Godric?" Dean asked out of curiosity but swiftly changed the subject when he saw the look of utter mortification on her face, "Never mind, I was just driving around town and thought you could use a lift." He said, desperately trying to come off as casual.
"Dean," she scolded, "It's 3 am, your case is solved. You should be halfway to Kansas by now. What's keeping you here?"
Damn this woman, why was she so observant?
"Fine." He conceded, "but will you please get in the car, it's pouring." The soft rain that had started a couple of hours ago was quickly turning into a full-blown rain shower.
"Where are your weapons?" She asked cautiously.
"In the car trunk," Dean honestly answered. "Where's your wooden stick?"
"It's called a wand," She automatically corrected him. "And it's in my arm holster." She lifted the right sleeve of her jacket slightly, showing him the pointy end of the wooden stick.
Dean was a bit shocked; he did not expect Hermione to be armed all the time, but then again so was he. His arsenal was just a bit too bulky to just fit up his sleeve, but that was what the car trunk was for.
"Come on in," he said, reaching over to open the door for her.
Hermione stepped into the car and got her wand out.
"WOAAH!" Dean shouted, holding his hands up in surrender.
"I'm just going to dry myself off, really quick," she said before she mumbled some unintelligible words. As soon as the words past her lips her soaked coat and hair instantly dried.
When she was finished, she turned around and faced him, "So, what are you doing here?"
"Sam made me realize that I'd only get answers to my questions if I actually ask them." Dean decided the best course of action was to just jump in the deep end and tell her the truth. If he wanted her to be honest, it wouldn't be fair if he didn't do the same thing.
"I knew there had to be a reason why I liked your brother," She grinned. "So, what are those questions?"
"Why did you help us?" Dean swiftly asked the question that had been in the front of his mind ever since he dropped Sam off at the motel.
"I like to solve puzzles, and this seemed like a good puzzle," she answered as if it was the most logical thing ever. "I've also always wanted to help people, and it seemed like you guys could use some help."
"I've never met a witch that helped us," Dean stammered, seemingly wanting to explain his impulsively bad reaction at the Mulder estate. "Sam and I mostly only had problems with the witches we've encountered in the past."
"You've probably not encountered a witch like me before," Hermione said, making herself comfortable on the passenger seat.
"I'm quite certain I haven't met a woman like you before, Hermione," Dean said, finally turning around in his seat to fully face her. "I'd like to get to know you better, can I buy you some coffee?" It was then he realized the current time and quickly added, "tomorrow of course, can I buy you some coffee tomorrow?"
"I'd like that." She said beaming up at him with those warm honey eyes, the darkness that was always so evident in them now diminished by the pure brightness of her smile.
The drive over to her quaint little cottage was peaceful. The silence was only broken a couple of times with shallow questions and short answers. The pair were seemingly afraid to break the peace in the car with the heaviness of the big questions still hanging over their heads.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow at 10?" Dean asked as he parked the car in front of Hermione's cabin.
"I'll be here waiting," She smiled at him, as she moved towards him. Dean wasn't sure what the fiery witch was up to and he was pleasantly surprised when he felt a pair of soft lips on his cheek. He couldn't help the grin that spread over his face.
She swiftly moved out of the car and threw back a cheeky grin and a "Goodbye, Dean. Sleep well," over her shoulder as she disappeared into the cottage.
This woman had surprised him on every level. She was nothing like the girls he often chatted up in the bars in small towns. The way she seemed to look at the world just had him intrigued. She was a mystery he just couldn't seem to crack. Every time he seemed to lift the veil slightly and learn more about her, he somehow ended up with a whole lot of new questions. Questions he was desperate to find the answers to. He simply couldn't wait for their date the following morning. What had gotten into him? Sam was going to have a field day teasing him when he found out.
"Dean?" Sam yelled from the motel room door. "Where the hell are you going? Bobby expected us to get to Sioux Falls straight after we cleaned up this mess, we've already stayed overnight."
"I just have something personal to take care of before we leave town," Dean tried to keep it casual, trying to emphasize that point by 'casually' draping his arm over the opened car window.
"Oh, that's what we're calling her now? Something personal?" Sam smirked, not falling for it, "Don't be too long, or you can do all the driving up north. And say Hi to Hermione for me, will you?"
Feeling too annoyed to answer Dean simply rolled up the car window and sped away.
When he turned up to the traffic lights, he saw her already standing there anxiously fidgeting with her thumbs. He couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.
"You're late…" Hermione said accusingly as she stepped into the car. "I thought you'd maybe…" Hermione's voice trailed off as if she were too afraid for the truth to pass her lips.
"I tried to sneak out and Sam caught me," Dean explained, "I have every intention to take you on a date," He smirked up at her. "What's a decent coffee shop?"
"I was thinking we could get our breakfast and coffee as take away and eat it at this spot I know by the lake," Hermione said.
"Sounds like a plan."
The lake was amazing, And the spot Hermione had guided him to was breathtakingly beautiful. The way the sun reflected on the water and spread out over the surrounding trees just made the area look magical.
Once Hermione had pulled a bright red quilt out of practically nowhere, they settled down on the magnificently soft blanket with the dishes and coffees spread out before them. It was an impressive brunch spread; it was not something you'd find in a run of the mill southern diner.
"How do you know about magic and all these creatures?" Hermione started with the questions that had hung over them ever since they connected in the library.
"Sammy and I lost our Mom at a young age. It was a creature, a demon actually." Dean started with the family story, it seemed like it would be best to just put everything on the table and look where it went after that. He wasn't sure what Hermione was going to tell him, but he was almost sure Sam had been right. She simply couldn't be evil, and he would do everything in his power to be able to move past her being a witch.
"My mom had been born into the life. She stepped out of it when she met my dad. When she passed, he read up on the supernatural to get revenge against her killer. So I guess you can say it's the family business."
He saw her intrigued face into one of shock. "You've started doing all that," she gestured with her hands hinting towards what she had seen him do the night before, "since you were a little kid?"
"It wasn't like that in the beginning, but yeah, Sam and I have been on the road for almost our entire lives." Dean took the mug with coffee and brought it to his lips, taking a big gulp, the caffeine was something he was desperately craving after the late night. When the hot liquid hit his tongue, he was surprised to find it still scalding hot, even though the coffee had been standing out of there for quite a while already.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I should've warned you," Hermione said, not being able to hide the amused expression on her face. "I kind of couldn't resist the temptation of not doing a couple more spells. I made sure the mugs keep the coffee warm."
"Makes sense, it's scalding. So, tell me your story. How come you're on this side of the Atlantic? And how does your witchy business work?" Dean went straight to the point too.
"I was born with my magic, but I was born to non-magical parents. So, I grew up in the normal world. When I turned eleven, I was told I was special and found out there was a whole other world I belonged to."
"It's hidden? Is it also in America?" Dean was astonished there still was a world he was unaware of. He was certain he had seen it all.
"There is, I had to register with their Ministry when I moved here." Hermione took a pause and a deep breath, seemingly gathering herself before she continued her story.
"There was a lot of prejudice in our world. People not liking the way non-magical born witches and wizards were 'infiltrating' their world. I somehow got into the thick of it during my school days. After all that had passed, I just needed a break. I went and travelled all over the US when I found this quiet town and just fell in love with the peace and quiet it brought me."
"There was a war? How long ago was this?" Dean was surprised he hadn't heard anything like a war in Europe on the news.
"It ended about nine years ago. I stayed to help rebuild the country before I moved here to rebuild my life." She answered honestly.
"Was it bad?"
"On some points, we thought we wouldn't win, I saw a lot of people die, people close to me. But I guess it's something you don't really think about until it's all over and you give your mind the time to process it all," she took a deep breath. "It's then you think about it all, the faces, the people you couldn't save." The next sentence that left Hermione's lips was almost inaudible as she stared off into nowhere. "Why was I saved, and they weren't? Why me?"
"There's a school where you learn all this magic stuff, no demons, just humans teaching you how to warm coffee mugs?" Dean tried to change the subject. All he wanted to do is to get that sparkle back into those beautiful amber eyes.
"Humans do teach us at Hogwarts," Hermione laughed, "but we do learn a bit more than just to keep our coffee warm. We learn it with tea. Flitwick would be horrified if he knew I used this charm on the unholy liquid that is coffee."
Dean laughed, just the return of the smile on her face was enough.
For the rest of the brunch, they just enjoyed each other's company, getting to know each other without delving into their dark pasts. It was much easier to learn about her favourite food, her favourite book, and her favourite spots in the world. It was also much easier to talk about his favourites and tell her stories about the most hilarious cases they've been on over the years. Before he knew it, his phone had rung a dozen times.
"I think I should really head back. Sam is blowing up my phone. If I don't go back, I think he'll come and find us and I'm not in the mood for the state he'll be in. I don't want you to hurt my baby brother because he storms in and you feel the need to protect yourself." Dean teased her, resulting in Hermione playfully slapping him on his arm.
"Okay, you win. We'll head back into town," Hermione said standing from the quilt and motioning for Dean to stand too. After he left the rug, she got it all back in the boot of the car with one flick of her wooden stick. The fluffy rug just lay on top of all the stakes and weapons that normally solely inhabited the boot of the car. Dean was surprised by how normal it was, how normal it all felt. It seemed like the fluffy rug just needed to be in the boot of his car.
"Will you allow me the pleasure of driving you home?" Dean said holding open the passenger door.
"Well, thank you," She smiled at him. Just before she ducked into the car she stood up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "And thank you for the amazing date and thank you for telling me your story."
"My pleasure." He grinned down at her. He didn't want the date to end and climbing into the car would seem like the final period. The subtitles coming up saying 'The End'. He would drive off north and wouldn't know when he'd see her again and that was really something he didn't want to think about.
Dean coughed and straightened his spine. "Let's get you home." He closed her door and moved towards the driver's side swiftly getting into the car.
The drive to her house was short, too short, he was not yet ready to let go of her. He'd only just got to know her. They sat in the car in front of her house for a while, not really wanting to start the conversation because that'd mean it would be the start of the end.
After a long while, Hermione broke the peaceful silence. "I liked the research we did in the library," she turned and looked at him with those big amber eyes, "you can always call me if you need some help on a case or two."
"I'll keep that in mind," Dean laughed. He would probably just call her to hear her voice and to give her some credit she had been an awesome researcher. Her mind somehow saw links he and Sam just didn't notice.
"You can always call me if something suspicious catches your eye around these parts. I can't say we'd be there as quickly as you can travel but we sure as hell would drive down here as fast as we can." Dean offered.
"I will definitely keep that in mind," Hermione said, gathering her stuff and getting ready to get out of the car.
"Wait." The words left his lips before he could truly comprehend them.
She turned around and looked questioningly at him. But before she could ask the question that was undoubtedly forming in her head Dean leaned forward and captured her lips with his.
Her lips felt just as amazing as he had anticipated when he had felt them on his cheek last night. Scratch that. It felt better than he could have ever anticipated. It felt like her lips were the perfect match for his. When he felt her body melt into his arms, he knew it was as near perfect as reality could get. And as much as he wanted this kiss to last forever. As much as he wanted to deepen the kiss, he knew he had to let her go, for now. So, after what felt like just a second but somehow also forever, he pulled away.
"I'm sorry, I just couldn't let you go without doing that," Dean said, rubbing his neck and desperately avoiding her eyes.
"It's fine, I'm glad you did it," Hermione said her hands travelled up to cup his cheeks and force him to look her in the eyes. "I'd love to spend more time with you but I'm afraid, I'd have to protect us against an angry Sam," She laughed, moving forward to give him one last kiss on his mouth. "Don't hesitate to call or stop by if you're ever in the neighbourhood," she whispered against his lips before she fully pulled away and got out of the car.
"I will," Dean answered, the big smile on her face made him think she must have heard him say it before the door had closed.
When he opened the boot of the car to drop the packed bag into later that day, he found the fluffy rug still there, the softness covering the harshness of his weapons. It somehow felt fitting that her softness covered up his harsher edges.
It wasn't that the case they were currently working on was so difficult, it was just not run of the mill. And he hadn't heard her voice in a couple of weeks. But the reason he was calling her was all about the case.
"Hello, darling," he saw Sam roll his eyes out of the corner of his eye. "I was wondering if you could maybe hop over and help us with a case. We are just across the border in Texas."
"I'm just about to finish up in the library. What's the case? I could bring some books about the subject?" He heard her voice already lighten up at the thought of doing more research after what had probably been a long and strenuous day, dealing with the local youths at the library.
"Sam and I are currently on a stakeout because a friend of ours saw suspicious behaviour in this old, abandoned country home, we suspect it might be a Black Widow."
He heard Hermione's laugh through the phone. "If you already know what the creature is, where do you need my research for?"
"You said once I could always call you if I were in the neighbourhood. And we're only an hour drive or so away. And we could always use an extra set of hands," Dean smirked, he knew he was just using any excuse to see her again. But truly he didn't care.
"You can admit you just wanted to see me," Hermione said, "You can admit you've missed me."
Dean glanced over at Sam, hoping he wasn't truly clocked into the conversation. His baby brother was making gestures encouraging Dean to carry on quickly, clearly waiting to say something.
"I've missed you." Dean turned his head and looked out of the window, desperate to not see the expression on his brother's face from the corner of his eye. "But I also think we'll crack this case faster if your big brain is here to assist us. And a stakeout with you sounds so much more appealing than sitting here for hours with Sammy." That led to a scoff from his little brother.
"Send me the address and I'll look for a safe space to Apparate to," Hermione said, resulting in a gush of relief flowing over Dean's body. He was going to see her again.
"I will see you in a bit," Dean said before he ended the call and finally turned to face his brother ready to face the fall out that was undoubtedly on its way.
"So, I'm not good company to be on a stakeout with?" Sam grinned.
"Fuck you!" Dean scoffed, feeling defensive. "I don't listen in on your private conversations, just to mock them."
"That's exactly what you do Dean." Sam laughed, shaking his head.
Before the conversation could go towards true brotherly bickering, there was a knock on the car window. When Dean turned around, he saw them, those amber eyes he had longed for.
"Are you going to let me in? It's pouring out here." Hermione's voice was muffled by the glass separating them.
Dean swiftly got out of the car, enveloped her in a tight hug and let the rain pour over his head, soaking him to the bone within seconds. "Hi," he said, smiling down at her before lowering his head to capture her lips with his own.
"Hi," Hermione said as they broke apart, giving him a soft peck onto his lips before she got into the car. "Hello, to you to Sam. How are you?" She asked as she made herself comfortable on the cramped backseat.
"I'm good, just not in the mood for sappy Dean," Sam answered.
"Understandable, he does change into an innocent puppy from time to time." Hermione grinned.
"Hey! I'm in the car," Dean said, as he turned up the heat in the car.
"You know I can dry your clothes with a flick of my wand, right?" She got her wand out of a hidden pocket in her jacket. Dean saw Sam's eyes grow wider at the sight of the thin wooden stick.
"Don't worry, it's harmless." Dean tried to convince his little brother.
"Not quite," Hermione said.
"Don't worry, Hermione is harmless." Dean corrected.
"Not really," Hermione countered.
"She won't hurt us." Dean caught Hermione's glare in the mirror and quickly added, "If we behave."
"I can go with that," Hermione said, now pointing the wand at the back of his head. "Do you want me to dry your clothes, Dean?"
"I guess I wouldn't mind," He shrugged.
He felt the soft prick of the wand against the back of his neck and tried to suppress his instincts as shivers ran down his spine. However, the wand was soon removed, and he heard Hermione mutter something intelligible and his whole body was enveloped in hot air, almost instantly drying his clothes.
"That felt," Dean wasn't sure how to describe the feeling, "weird. But thanks, sweetheart,"
"Can you please stop all the flirting," Sam groaned.
"I am not flirting," Dean defended himself.
"Oh please, I don't mind, I'd just like to not be in this small space with the two of you with all this energy going around." Sam said, "Just drop me off at the motel, a stakeout isn't a three-man job anyway."
"Can we leave the house for that long? What if something happens?" Hermione asked.
"Good point. You could just walk to the hotel; I think it's only a 15-minute walk?" Dean said to his brother.
"Dude, it's pouring, and I don't have my own witch to dry my clothes," Sam said.
"I'm not his witch," Hermione swiftly cut in. And even though Dean knew they had had the conversation about how long-distance was difficult and they didn't want to put extra pressure on whatever was growing between them, it stung. And as soon as the words left her lips, he felt the atmosphere in the car change.
Apparently, the change in atmosphere had also been caught by the other occupants of the car. Dean couldn't catch Hermione's eyes anymore in the mirror and Sam awkwardly coughed. "Just take me to the motel, will you? I don't want to be here for that conversation and I just need to catch up on some sleep, that werewolf case in Tahoe really took it out of me."
"I think I could maybe use some magic to let us know if anything happened once, we return," the soft voice of Hermione came from the backseat.
"That'd work," Dean said.
"But I haven't used it in ages, I've only researched it back in the war. I'm not sure how it works, exactly."
Sam wasn't staying in this car. This was the best option. Dean just hoped they didn't miss activity at the house. So, Dean started the car and drove towards the motel. The atmosphere in the car was still tight with tension. It didn't improve at all over the 5-minute drive towards the motel, resulting in Sam almost jumping out of the car the moment Dean pulled up.
"Bye. Stay safe. And only call me if something important happens," he said as he rushed out of the car.
"You know you can sit in the passenger seat; it's really cramped back there." Dean turned his attention towards the petite witch sitting in the back of the car.
"Are we just not going to talk about it?" She asked as she made her way to the front of the car and Dean drove off not mentioning a thing about the previous situation.
"It's nothing, really," Dean tried to avoid the truth.
"I saw your face, it's not nothing Dean," Hermione pressed on, "if we don't communicate, this will never work."
He pondered over that for a couple of minutes. She was right, of course, she was right. If they wanted to give it a shot, a real shot, communication was the most important thing. They would most likely spend the majority of the time in opposite parts of the country only talking to each other over the phone. There had to be some clarification about their situation. However, it had always been the thing that scared him the most. Being a ladies man, being single, that was what he did. And ever since he had first met her, he hadn't really sought out other women. Knowing no one else could compare to her. However, saying those words out loud would mean she would know, and she would react. And what if she didn't think of their relationship, their future, in the same way, he did. She had been very adamant that she wasn't his witch.
When they reached the house and the excuse of having to focus on the road didn't work anymore.
"Okay, let's do this." He took a deep breath, gathering all the courage he could. "I like you, Hermione Granger, I like you a lot. And I want you to be my woman and that might be very forward or just too quick, but I don't care. You so adamantly saying you weren't... just... I don't know, it snapped something in my brain." It was out, he felt like he was on his way to the gallows. Now she was going to tell him it was fun while it lasted, he was sure of it. He felt his heart beating in his throat. He stoically held his eyes fixated on the tree in front of him.
"Oh Dean," she started. "I like you; I like you very much." This is where she'll end it, where she'll end him. He was sure of it. "And I would very much like to be yours as much as I want you to be mine." This made him look over at the beautiful woman sitting beside him, she was staring at her hands on her lap, her fingers nervously fidgeting. "I guess I was just afraid of you not wanting to be in something serious, with me."
"Hermione," he interrupted the rambling that was surely going to take off now. "Look at me." She turned her head and her eyes spoke volumes, it told him all he wanted to know, all he needed to know. "Would you want to be my woman?"
"Yes, I would," she said, a smile finally breaking through on her face.
Dean reached over cradling her face with his hands and capturing her lips in a soft kiss. A polar opposite of the kiss they had shared an hour before in the rain, what this kiss lacked in heat it made up for in love. Dean poured all the love he felt for her into it and felt it all reciprocated from her side.
The kiss didn't stay sweet for long. Soon Dean couldn't help but deepen the kiss. He pulled her closer, and nibbled on her bottom lip, begging for her to grant him entrance. However, what she did next confused him, she broke the kiss.
Before he could question it, she released her seatbelt and moved over to straddle him, reconnecting their lips once again. The new position was a one-way ticket to a fiery kiss. Dean's hands feasted on her body. Running from her shoulders to her bum. When he squeezed it, she moulded herself into his chest.
They broke apart, the need for oxygen finally overtaking the want of devouring each other.
"If you don't stop, sweetheart," Dean panted, "I'm going to make love to you right here, right now,"
"Do it," she dared him before crashing her lips on his once again.
This woman was a hell of a lot fierier than her demeanour gave her credit for. His hands ran over her body trying to get rid of the last layers preventing them from being skin to skin. However, her being in his lap, in the small space that was his precious car made that almost impossible without him stopping kissing her, touching her. And he was not ready to do that.
"Fuck," he groaned when they finally broke apart again.
"What?"
"I can't get these damn clothes off,"
"I think I've got the solution for that," She smirked at him, and reached over to the passenger seat of the car, when she sat up straight on her lap once more, she was rolling her wand in her hand.
"More magic?" Dean asked, surprised.
"It's the answer for almost everything," She shrugged. "Ready?" He only nodded in response bracing himself for the feeling of magic washing over him once more. However, he just, suddenly, felt the texture of leather on his bare arse and a breeze hitting his legs.
"I fucking love magic," he said, his hands running over her now bare skin, before connecting their lips once again.
Dean didn't think it was possible, but their kiss got even more heated. He didn't want to leave her lips, but he also desperately wanted to taste every single inch of her skin. When he trailed kisses down her neck, she started moving in his lap, her already weeping core coating his cock with her arousal. He trailed further down, towards her nipples, the next part of her body he was desperate to worship.
The lapping, nibbling, and pinching of her nipples had her making the most delicious noises in his lap.
"Please, Dean," she gasped.
He bit down on her nipple softly before releasing it and smirking up at her from his current position between her beautiful breasts. "You're on top, darling, you're the boss."
Hermione put her shaky hands on his shoulders to steady herself and raise high enough above his lap for him to line himself up in front of her entrance. Teasing her folds with the head of his cock.
"Ready when you are," He winked at her.
With that, she slowly sank and impaled herself on his cock, the look on her face was magnificent. The pure determination to take all of him.
When she finally took him in to the hilt, he couldn't help but feel amazing. He had waited for this for so long. And since he now knew this wasn't just sex, it felt so much more real. The woman currently slowly moving herself up and down his cock, was his. Truly his.
Slowly but surely the knot in his abdomen tightened and judging by the look on her face, she was nearing the cliff herself. The fire in her eyes finally seemed to be shining so brightly, it eclipsed the darkness that always seemed to have been present in her eyes, ever since the first moment he saw her. She was full of fire and it was all him. The fire within him was burning bright, so bright it was pushing him even closer to the cliff.
And then he was falling, heavenly waves crashing over him. How could sex with someone you loved be so much better than sex with anyone else? Had this been what he had been missing out on his entire life?
His woman was exhausted, still mounted on his shaft, curled up against his chest. Her fingers tracing patterns in the condensation on the window. "It's just like, Titanic,"
"Really? Darling?" He asked, "A titanic reference, now?'
"Never mind."
"Why can't she just appear near the bunker like you always do?" Dean asked, for the millionth time as they crossed the border into Indiana.
"Like I've explained a million times before," Hermione sighed. "You can't just Apparate anywhere in the world. It's only safe if you've been to the place or can visualize it perfectly. And well the bunker is kind of a secret location. And isn't this fun, just some time for us alone, no Sam always walking in at exactly the worst moment possible?
"He does have a habit of doing that." A smile finally cracked through the stoic mask Dean had pulled his facial features into.
"And I thought it would be better to ease you guys into knowing each other, I'm not too sure how Ginny will react. She was excited when we spoke, but maybe I'm not ready to share the bunker with her. Especially if she'd see the bunker without any easing in. Do you remember my reaction when I first saw it?" She reminded him of that fond memory.
It had been a couple of months after he and Sam had gotten the key to the bunker that he had actually let her come to his 'home' instead of driving down to Zwolle, ever so often.
It hadn't felt like a home until she set foot into the place. With a flick of her wand, his room turned from a military base cot to a bedroom. And when Sam spotted that change, he didn't mind a sprinkle of magic on his own sleeping quarters and the communal living quarters. However, the areas used for their work still looked like the war room at the Ministry. There was a weapons room, a control room and the room, Dean found Hermione the most often, the library. All those rooms were still littered with hunter paraphernalia. Which was most likely what Hermione was alluding to? And Dean had to admit, even though his bedroom was more homely now, it still only truly felt like home when she was there with him.
"I guess so," Dean gave in. "I mean, getting used to your magic isn't a 24-hour thing, you know?"
The rest of the trip to New York went smoothly, they reached all the motels Hermione had carefully picked out before their trip right on time, as much as Dean had the habit to be quite reckless he also was an impeccable driver.
Hermione spent hours staring out of the window, seeing the American countryside pass her by while Dean sang along to 80s rock classics.
"It's so different from home," Hermione said staring out of the window.
"Why?" Dean asked.
"It's all just so big," Hermione said, turning her head and looking at him.
"How long have you been living here now? Almost a decade?" Dean laughed at her amazement.
"I travel by magic; I never see it like this," she said defensively.
Driving into New York City reminded Dean of why he avoided cases in the big cities like the plague. All the cars just came so close to his baby and at every traffic light, you'd never know what would happen. Hermione had insisted on a hotel in the city centre because apparently that was close to the Magical Ministry and Ginny had to get stuff sorted there before she could enter the rest of the country. He just didn't understand why these magical people put their ministry in the middle of a bunch of non-magical people, if their world was supposed to stay hidden. The supernatural world was also supposed to stay hidden from the normal people, that's why the bunker was located in the middle of nowhere.
Dean couldn't hold in the sigh of relief when he could finally park baby in a safe, quiet side street next to the hotel. Hermione almost didn't wait for the car to stop before she rushed out.
"Come on, Dean, Hurry!" Was all he heard before the door closed.
"I think I'll stay in the car, go get your friend, babe, I'll be here to drive us home."
Hermione did pout a bit at the realization that he wouldn't join her, but she knew better than anyone that he wouldn't leave his car alone. Only to return to it hours later and find it had been stripped for parts, not that it had ever happened but still, Chevy Impala parts were doing great on the black market.
Dean didn't have to wait long before Hermione rounded the corner of the quiet street again, a woman with long bright red hair following behind her.
He wanted to get out of the car and be the gentleman opening the door for the two women however before he could, they were already inside. Without any doors even opening.
"What?" He exclaimed, truly confused at this point.
"I told you precise Apparition is fun," the redhead exclaimed from the back seat.
"Ginny, you can't just do it in front of Dean without a warning. He might die of shock, and I'm not yet ready for that,"
"Not yet?" Dean asked.
"Hush, Dean," Hermione threw back before turning to glare at her friend.
"So this is the world-famous Dean Winchester, hunter of creatures and conqueror of hearts," the redhead said, finally turning towards him. "Pleasure to finally meet you, Ginevra Weasley,"
"Good to meet you," Dean said to the redhead. "You've talked about me to your friends?" He asked Hermione incredulously.
"Of course I did, how could I not after you asked me to marry you?"
"Oh that was such a beautiful proposal," Ginny cut in.
"Shut it, Gin, I need to have a conversation with Dean, real quick." Hermione turned to her friend, who without a single word disappeared from her spot on the back seat only to instantly reappear at the boot of the car.
"Dean, we've had this conversation, my friends are good. You don't have to do a background check on them," Hermione said, tired of the conversation they'd already had a million times.
"But they are witches and warlocks-"
"Wizards," Hermione instantly corrected him, "And they are my friends, you've got to trust me,"
"I do," Dean said. "Can we just not lead her to the bunker immediately, just do that one thing for me?"
"Fine, we'll set her up somewhere near the bunker," Hermione conceded before she motioned for Ginny to join them again so they could make their way back west to Kansas.
The drive was better than Dean expected, the other witch seemed to already have some knowledge of the normal world. However, it was still far less than Hermione had had when he'd first met her. Though he could appreciate her love for sports and when he found out she was a professional athlete in her own right, he vowed to someday brave the magical world and go to a match.
The best thing about meeting people from Hermione's other life was he could find out more about her. In all their years together he had yet to fully solve the puzzle that was Hermione Granger. And even though he'd be okay if he never truly solved the mystery, the closer he could get the better. Ginny Weasley did have a lot of information about his fiancé.
"And the fact that you proposed to her in a way she'd talked about back in school, it's just bloody perfect," Ginny cooed the second day of their trip. "I always knew it wouldn't be just a normal bloke for Hermione, and if you are one thing, it's not normal."
"Thanks, I guess," was the only thing Dean could answer.
"Hermione, look, I can spend the rest of my life meeting your friends. But you? I want to marry you. Tomorrow. Or fuck it, right now." Dean confessed when he thought Ginny was sleeping in the backseat.
"There are just a few that really need to be there, those are the closest thing to family I have left." Dean could not only hear the pain of the death of her parents in her voice, he could feel it in the way she looked at him.
What he didn't know was that Ginny hadn't been sleeping after all. When Hermione got out at the gas station to get them some supplies for the last leg of their trip she spoke up.
"I know who she wants to be there when she gets married," Ginny stated out of the blue, brown eyes boring into his through the mirror in the car. "I can get them to wherever we are driving and we can speed up this process. You might even be able to marry her at the end of the month."
"That was a private conversation," Dean snapped
"Just be happy I heard, at Hermione's pace, you'd be happy to not be in assisted living before you've met all the important people in her life and can finally tie the knot." Ginny snapped back.
"Okay, but they stay out of our home."
"The more you speak of that home of yours, the more I want to see what kind of shit you're keeping there," Ginny quirked a brow at him, "Is it a sex dungeon?"
Hermione got in the car just in time to hear Ginny's question and looked at him with wide eyes. "What?"
"Oh, nothing to worry about Hermione, I was just wondering why I can't see your home," Ginny stated as if it was the most normal topic ever.
"I think you'll understand why you couldn't see our home once you've seen it," Hermione said cryptically, effectively shutting her friend up.
Hermione had been right. Of course, she had been. After Ginny had met everyone outside of the bunker, she got a tour of the building a week after their arrival in Kansas. And the fact that Hermione was still alive and kicking after knowing the Winchester brothers for a couple of years now, was the only reason Ginny agreed to continue the tour after seeing the armoury.
"Better skip this on Harry's tour," she mumbled, "unless you want the whole DMLE to show up a minute later."
"DMLE?" Dean asked, confused at yet another acronym Ginny had casually used in conversation.
"Magical Police," Hermione explained.
"Noted, skip the armoury when Hermione's cop friend shows up,"
Ginny did, however, love the way Hermione had decorated the rooms of the bunker she had been allowed to decorate, and when she spotted the football match playing on the tv she was even more intrigued by how the images of the game played in Seattle were broadcast there in rural Kansas.
Showing Ginny's brother and Harry, the friend who was apparently working for the magical police to the rooms of the bunker that they were allowed to see was quite easy. Apparently, the glowing stories Hermione had relayed home and some glaring looks from Ginny had both men dialling back on the 'you better take care of our Hermione' - act.
However, convincing Hermione that it was totally normal and okay for all her friends to make the trip over the Atlantic, was something completely different.
"How are they all just here? Meeting you?" She asked incredulously as she sat down on the passenger seat of the car, ready for their weekly groceries trip.
"I've said it before, I'd marry you on the spot if you'd let me," Dean said, seriously, "Ginny is just helping me speed up the process of meeting all the important people in your life a bit along."
"I should've known you'd be fast friends," Hermione groaned.
Today was the day.
The day he would finally make her his wife. Even though he hadn't been in the small town in Louisiana in quite some time, nothing really had changed. What else could you expect from small-town America? However, it felt fitting to become husband and wife in the town they had experienced almost all their firsts. It was a bonus that the town had a beautiful small church that would be the perfect place for them and their small wedding party.
The night alone in the hotel had been weird, he had not slept without her nestled into his chest for quite some time now, and laying there alone it had felt like a part of him was missing. However, Hermione had found it important to adhere to traditions and to spend her last night as a single woman away from him, getting royally plastered with her friends.
Dean had just shared a beer with Sam and Bobby in a bar, his group of the wedding party was smaller, but that didn't matter. All the people he needed to be there were part of it, and soon she'd be his family, too.
For purely sentimental reasons, he drove past those traffic lights on his way from the hotel to the church. When he drove past Hermione's cottage, he saw the hustle and bustle from her friends trying to make the car ready to head over to the church as well. He quickly averted his eyes, hoping to respect her wishes and not see the bride before the ceremony.
When he arrived at the church Sam and Bobby already stood outside waiting for him.
"Where have you been?" Sam asked, clearly agitated, "You should've been here 15 minutes ago."
"A made a detour, a little trip down memory lane,"
"Have you checked him?" Bobby asked Sam.
"It's hopeless when it comes to Hermione, it's truly him, I've already checked him a million times…" Sam sighed, "He's just sappy."
Dean got out of his car and made his way to his family before they all made their way into the church, ready for the wedding he never thought would happen when he was younger.
Not long after, Hermione and her entourage entered the same church and a mere 30 minutes later the ornate door of the church opened again and Dean exited, carrying Hermione bridal style towards the car waiting for them.
"There you go, Mrs Winchester," Dean smirked as he carefully put his new wife down on the passenger seat of the car.
"Thank you," she grinned up at him, for once in her life being okay with being helped because it was part of the tradition she so wholeheartedly cherished.
Dean made his way to the other side of the car and swiftly drove off while all their friends and family threw dry rice in the air. He couldn't wait to be alone with his bride again. He couldn't wait to start the rest of his life with her, fighting creatures when they had to and enjoying each other in peace the rest of the time.
Finally, he knew what the definition of home was for him.
It was anywhere in the world she was.
A/N: If you didn't notice I gave myself the worst constraint ever, the only location of this bloody fic was the impala, don't ask my why. I think I've flat out cursed myself into oblivion a million times because of it.
If you want to read more about these two, there's a next instalment where Dean goes to his first Quidditch match and meets the rest of the Weasley family.
And of course, there's a little plunny of another case for these three somewhere in the drafts, because damn I love Sam and I should get him a girl because he'd been third-wheeling... hard!