Dean Smith entered the elevator, mind already on what he had to do that day. He was looking to impress the boss, and wanted to get the day started early.
He felt his heartbeat speed up when he saw his secretary, the lovely Piper Tate, was already in the elevator. She had a short, pretty dress on, low-cut enough to be enticing, but not so much so that he didn't have to use his imagination a little. She had a coffee in her hand, and she was looking down at a file with a frown on her face.
He took the opportunity to study her, the way her auburn hair spilled over her shoulder, or the way she bit her lip in concentration. The woman was driving him to distraction.
Good Lord.
He plastered a smile on his face. "Ms. Tate, already hard at it?"
She looked up and smiled. "Mr. Smith! Of course."
He stood next to her and smiled again, more genuinely this time. "How many times do I need to ask you to call me Dean?"
She smirked at him over her coffee cup. "Until it's not inappropriate, Mr. Smith."
The elevator dinged and they stepped out together, walking toward the office they shared.
xxxxx
Dean pushed the button on his phone to hang up the call, satisfied that the other man had gotten the point. He didn't have anything else to demand his immediate attention, so he let his eyes wander to Piper.
She was standing in front of her desk, looking at a file laid open there, and then looking back to the paper in her hand.
She was standing in front of the wide filing cabinet in the corner of their office, pulling files out at what looked to him like random. She was brilliant, and he had made the decision to stay out of her way fairly quickly. She had only been there as long as he had, hired on the same day, but already he wasn't sure how he'd gotten along without her. She was efficient and kind of scary, and even though he was used to being in charge, he didn't mind her running his schedule.
He took the headset off and stood quietly. He noticed her breath hitch and her back tense, but she didn't move. He walked over to her slowly, letting the tension build.
When he got to her, he pressed his groin against her behind and moved his hands to her hips. He dipped his head to lay kisses on her neck. "Piper…"
Her head dropped back onto his shoulder. "Dean…"
He grinned against her neck, spinning her in his arms so he could push her up against the filing cabinet and push one of his knees between hers. He pressed his lips to hers, savoring the whimpers coming from her. "Jeeze, Piper," he moaned into her mouth.
"Desk," she said breathlessly. He drew in a sharp breath as she pulled his shirt out of his pants, running her nails up his chest. "Dean, God, please."
He didn't have to be told twice. He placed his hands on her ass, grinning into her mouth when she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He walked then over to his desk, laying her down slowly, not bothering to move the paperwork there out of the way.
She was working his belt off, her movements quick and efficient. He stepped closer and ran his hands up her thighs, his heart stuttering to a stop when he realized she wasn't wearing underwear. "God, Piper-"
His breath caught again when she freed him, palming his cock. She looked up at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her hazel eyes dark. He watched her closely, relishing the gasp she gave when he slowly pushed one thick finger into her.
"Tell me what you want, Piper," he said roughly, fighting the urge to buck into her hands when she wrapped one around his cock and stroked gently.
"Dean…"
The hot need in her voice made his head spin. "Tell me, Piper," he growled, warning her.
She gasped and let her eyes drift up to his. "You."
He moved his hand away, lined himself up with her, and slammed into her. She gasped and he stopped, fighting himself to give her time to adjust to him. When she squeezed him gently with her inner muscles, he groaned and started moving. He put his hands on her hips, holding her in place hard as he thrust into her. She sat up enough to lay kisses along his neck and shoulder, whimpering and digging her nails into his back. "Oh, Dean, yes!"
She cried out as her orgasm tore through her, and he was right behind her, burying himself in her as he came.
Piper sat up and wrapped her arms around his waist, and he rested his head on her shoulder, listening to their combined breathing slow down.
She leaned back and grinned at him. "Hi, handsome."
He smirked and kissed her forehead. "Hi, beautiful."
She twisted to look behind her at the papers he hadn't moved. "I think the Shrill account is going to need to be redone."
xxxxx
That evening, long after they should have gone home, Dean led Piper to the elevator with a hand on the small of her back.
He appreciated that she never complained about the long hours. He'd never synced with someone so well. She brewed coffee before he realized he wanted it, she knew which accounts needed his attention before he did. Piper was amazing.
He knew he should be worried about how comfortable he was with her. He had been single for a reason. But the day he'd come in for his first day, he'd let slip that he hadn't moved into his new apartment yet, so she had invited him back to hers for dinner.
They hadn't been alone for two minutes before he'd had her pushed up against the wall, moving his hands to the back of her thighs as she lifted them to wrap around his waist. The following three weeks had progressed quickly. He still hadn't unpacked any boxes, outside of his clothes. He had spent all of his time with her, at her place.
He was broken away from his thoughts when they were joined by a tall man with one of the yellow IT shirts on. Piper smiled warmly at the man and stepped away from Dean subtly. "Hi, Sam."
"Hi. Isn't it kind of late for you guys to be getting out?" Sam asked, his eyes flicking between them.
Dean watched her give Sam a sunny smile. "Burning the midnight oil, trying to impress the boss, you know."
Sam looked at Dean, who felt uncomfortable under the taller man's scrutiny. "Do I know you?" Sam asked.
Dean shook his head, grateful that the elevator was almost to the lobby. "I don't think so."
"I'm sorry, man, you just look really familiar."
Dean put a hand on Piper's back to guide her out when the doors opened. "Save it for the health club, buddy."
As they walked to their cars, he asked, "How do you know him?"
She shrugged. "He seemed nice, so we talked a few days ago. He's weird, but I like him."
xxxxx
The next day, Dean entered the elevator, intending to get something to eat for he and Piper. He was wavering on his diet, he knew he needed it, but honestly, the woman was ruining his life.
He was internally smiling at the thought of all of the physical activity he'd been putting in with her when the door dinged and the tall guy Sam entered again. Dean ignored him, but he felt the man's eyes boring holes in the side of his head. What's his problem?
At the next floor, everyone but the two of them got out.
"Can I ask you a question?" Sam asked.
Dean winced. "Look, man, I told you, I'm not into the, uh-"
Sam held his hands up. "Oh dude, come on, I'm not either. I just wanna ask you one question."
There was no escape, so Dean sighed. "Sure."
"What do you think about ghosts?"
Dean blinked. That was not what he'd thought was about to happen. "Ghosts?"
"Do you believe in them?"
Dean chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, tell you the truth, I've never given it much thought."
"Vampires?"
Dean frowned. "What? Why?"
"Because I've been having some weird dreams lately. You know what I mean?"
"No. Not really."
"So you've never had any… Weird dreams?"
Dean was done. "All right, look, man, I don't know you, okay? But I'm gonna do a public service and, uh, let you know that, that you overshare."
He walked out of the elevator when it dinged, lunch forgotten.
xxxxx
Dean was watching Piper bend over her desk to get a highlighter from her pen cup, giving him an excellent view down her shirt. She caught him looking and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Eyes on the screen, Mr. Smith."
He blinked and looked back at his computer. "So, I've been thinking about the guy who committed suicide in the breakroom."
She shuddered as she sat back down. "That was awful. Why are you thinking about it?"
He shrugged, closing the browser window that showed the employee's records. "He was two weeks away from retirement."
She tilted her head. "Why would someone kill himself two weeks before retiring?"
Dean sat forward, putting his elbows on his desk. "That's what I've been wondering, too." He wanted to continue, but his computer beeped, alerting him to an email.
He clicked it open, scanning it quickly. "Can you get Ian from IT up here, Ms. Tate?"
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the open door. A nervous looking man stood there.
Piper smiled warmly. "Ian? Hi, come in."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, come on in. Yesterday you filled out a 445-T and no problem, just a few errors when we did your switch over to Vista. So I'm sure you're used to filling out the dash-R's, am I right?" Dean chuckled.
Ian paled. "Oh, no."
Dean held his hands up. "No, no, no. It's fine. It's fine. I just need you to redo one today so I can get the show on the road with the invoicing." He took the new form and slid it across his desk, smiling at the man.
Ian was not comforted. "Oh my God."
Dean frowned. "No, it's fine. Just refile it and we're square."
"I can't believe I did this."
Dean met Piper's eyes, concerned. She stood and walked to Ian slowly, holding her hands out. "Hey, Ian, it's okay. It was an easy mistake. Hell, I did it just today."
Ian started to hyperventilate. "No, no. It affected profits. It… I screwed up. I, I can't, I can't, I am so sorry. I, how could I do that? I failed Sandover. I failed the company."
Dean stood, too. "All right, why don't you sit down, Ian?"
Instead, Ian ran out of the room. Dean held his hand up to Piper. "Stay here."
He ran out of the room after Ian. "Ian? Ian. Hey."
The other man ran into the bathroom, and Dean followed. "Ian, hey. Just chill out, man. Okay?"
Ian was staring into the mirror. A chill ran up Dean's bones, and he could see his breath. All of the faucets and soap dispensers turned on. Dean jumped, but Ian didn't react at all.
"Ian, hey, maybe we should get out of here, huh? Come on. Ian. Look at me."
Ian did, pulling a pencil out of his pocket. He stated at Dean for a beat, then drove the pencil into his own neck. Dean looked in in horror for a moment before rushing toward the bleeding man. Dean looked up and caught a glimpse of an old man standing behind them. When he turned no one was there.
Dean turned back to Ian. "Somebody help me!"
xxxxx
Dean, Sam, and Piper had convened at her apartment's parking lot after the men's run-in with the ghost. Dean had demanded she stay behind while they investigated, and she had given in, which she regretted. The next time he tried to boss her around, she'd show him a thing or two.
"Come on, gentleman, let's go research ghosts," she said cheerfully, leading them into her building.
Dean placed a hand on the small of her back as she unlocked the door, and she reveled in the comfort it gave her. She knew she would normally be freaking out if she was essentially living with a man three weeks after meeting him, but it seemed perfectly normal with Dean. She hadn't worried when he'd brought a toothbrush and clothes over, she hadn't worried when she'd bought his favorite brand of coffee without thinking, and she wasn't worried now.
They filed into her apartment, Sam making sure the door was shut and locked. The men were still talking about the ghost they'd encountered.
"Holy crap, dude." Dean said, plopping down next to Piper on her couch.
Sam nodded. "Yeah, I could use a beer."
"In the fridge, Sam," Piper said, resisting the urge to lean into Dean.
When Sam glanced at Dean, he shook his head. "No, man, I'm on the Cleanse."
Piper and pulled her laptop from the coffee table to her lap, flipping it open and starting to search.
Sam came back and joined them in a chair next to the couch. "Hey, how the hell did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?"
Dean shrugged. "Crazy, right? And nice job kicking that door, too. Very Jet Li. What are you, like a black belt or something?"
Sam shook his head. "No. I have no clue how I did that. It's like… We've done this before."
"What do you mean, before? Like Shirley MacLaine before?"
"No. I, I just can't shake this feeling like I, like I don't belong here, you know? Like I should do something more than sit in a cubicle."
"I think most people who work in a cubicle feel that way," Piper muttered, not looking up from her screen.
San huffed. "No. Well, look, it's more than that. Like, I don't like my job. I don't like this town. I don't like my clothes. I don't like my own last name. I don't know how else to explain it, except that… It feels like I should be doing something else. There's just something in my blood. Like I was destined for something different." He looked between Dean and Piper. "What about you guys? You ever feel that way?"
Dean opened his mouth, but Piper put a hand on his arm. "Yes," she said simply. "For the last few weeks, ever since I moved here, the only things that haven't felt that way are you guys."
Dean scoffed. "I don't believe in destiny. I do believe in dealing with what's right in front of us, though."
Piper held up her laptop. "Well, I think I found a way to do that. These guys hunt ghosts for a living, and they have some, like, how-to videos."
GHOSTFACERS flashed across the screen, and the three of them settled in to research.
xxxxx
"Well, we killed it." Piper thought carefully. "Can you kill a ghost? Or do you just… Get rid of it?"
Dean ignored her to pull out the first aid kit from the bathroom. He pulled out three gauze pads and handed one to Sam. He approached Piper and put one against her cheek, where it had been split open.
"Man, I gotta tell you. I've never had so much fun in my life," Dean said cheerfully. Piper took the clean gauze out of his hand and pressed it to his head, smiling up at him.
"We should keep doing this." Sam said, examining the two of them. Piper noticed the way he was watching, but ignored it. After you kill a ghost, who cares who knows you're sleeping with the boss?
Dean grinned. "I know." He smiled when Piper stepped closer to him. Good grief, those eyes will be the death of me, she thought wryly.
"I mean it. There's gotta be other ghosts out there. We could help a lot of people."
Piper turned to look at Sam. "What? Quit our jobs and go?" She asked.
It didn't seem like that bad an idea to Piper. She wasn't close with anyone in town except Dean, and if they could help people…
But Dean was already scoffing. "You gotta be kidding me. How would we get by? Stolen credit cards? Huh? Eating diner food drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel room every night?"
Piper winced as, in his agitation, he pressed harder on his cheek. "Ow," she said mildly.
He looked down and winced. "Sorry, Pipes." The nickname warmed her insides.
"That's all just details," Sam was saying.
"Details are everything," Dean snapped. "You don't wanna go fighting ghosts without any health insurance."
Sam looked sheepish. "All right, um, confession."
"What?" Dean snapped again. Piper put her hand on his arm and squeezed.
"Remember those dreams I told you about, with the ghosts?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, I was… Fighting them. With you guys. Both of you. We were like, these hunters, and we were friends. Well," he looked at Dean. "We were more like brothers. And you guys were together. I mean, what if that's who we really are? I mean, you saw us back there, working together. The ghost was scrambling people's brains. What if it scrambled ours?"
Dean was shaking his head. "That's insane."
Piper looked up at him. "Is it? I mean… If you think about it, does this all really feel like our lives?"
He gazed down at her. "You feel like my life."
She smiled up at him, her heart fluttering. "Yeah, you, too."
"Look," Sam said, interrupting. "All I know is this isn't who we're supposed to be."
Dean shook his head and wrapped an arm around Piper's waist. "No. I'm Dean Smith, Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bob, My mother's name is Ellen, and my sister's name is Jo. And this is Piper, my secretary and girlfriend." Piper's heart stuttered at the title on his lips. Not now, Tate, keep it together.
"And when was the last time you talked to them? Any of them? Besides Piper? Because I only moved here because I broke up with my fiancé, Madison. But when I called her number I got a damn animal hospital."
"Okay, what are you saying? Are you trying to say that my family isn't real? Huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on," he scoffed.
Sam stood, getting angry. "All I know is, I got this feeling in my gut. And I know, I know that deep down, you guys gotta be feeling it, too. We're supposed to be something else. You're not just some corporate douchebag, and you're not just some hot secretary. This isn't you. I know you."
Dean's face had been irritated before, but as soon as Sam mentioned Piper, she felt Dean's arm tense and his body change stance. "Know me? You don't know me, pal. You should go."
xxxxx
Later, Dean and Piper were sprawled against each other on her couch, sweat slowly starting to dry. There was a butterfly bandage on her cheek, and it somehow made her look more vulnerable and tougher at the same time. Dean pulled her up so she was resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around her waist.
She smiled down at him. "Everything okay, Mr. Smith?"
He nodded. "Yes ma'am, Ms. Tate. Just thinking about that jackass."
She laughed softly. "Dean, do we have to talk about Sam in bed?"
He grinned. "We're not in bed, Pipes."
She smacked him on the chest. "You know what I mean, Dean." She smiled down at him before sobering. "Don't you think you were a little hard on him?"
"No, Piper, he's crazy. Look, I'm willing to accept ghosts, but I know who I am. I'm Dean Smith. You're Piper Tate. He's Sam whatever. This isn't some sort of conspiracy theory, Pipes, it's our lives."
"Okay, okay, but you don't think this is weird?" she gestured between the two of them. "Dean, I have never in my life basically let a man move into my apartment in three weeks. I've never felt this way this fast about someone." She bit her lip, looking at him nervously. "That doesn't scare you?"
He looked at her closely, her high cheekbones, her auburn air, her wide hazel eyes. He put a hand on her face and pulled her close, kissing her thoroughly. When the pulled back, he met her eyes again. "No, you don't scare me, Piper. This feels right."
She nodded. "I know, right? But, everything else is-"
He was suddenly overwhelmed by her. She was lovely, kind, smart, and everything he'd ever wanted. "I think I'm falling in love with you," he said in a rush, watching her face for her reaction.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open a little. He took the opportunity to run a thumb across her lip, still trying to gauge how she was feeling. The silence stretched out, and he was almost ready to take it back when she spoke.
"I'm falling in love with you, too," she said softly, eyes sparkling and lips curving up into a smile.
He pulled her down to him to capture that smile with his mouth, thoughts of Sam and ghosts and different lives taking a backseat to the heat of her pressed against him.
xxxxx
The next day, Dean was working with half of his mind, and watching Piper with the other half, when his boss, Adler, came in.
Adler knocked on the open door. "Got a minute?"
Dean blinked. "Sure, of course."
Adler looked at Piper. "Can we have a minute, dear?"
Piper smiled politely, but Dean saw the tightness in her face. "Of course, Mr. Adler, Mr. Smith." She left quietly, shutting the door behind her.
Adler turned to Dean. "How are you feeling, Dean?"
"Uh, great."
Adler examined him. "You look a little tired. Been working hard, I gather, you and Mrs. Tate."
"Ms." Dean corrected without thinking.
"Excuse me?"
"She's, uh, she's not married. And yeah, I guess we've been working a lot."
"Ah, don't be modest. I hear everything. And I'm pleased with what I'm hearing." He sat down in the chair in front of Dean's desk. "That's why it's important to me that you're happy." He took out a pen, took a sticky note off of Dean's desk, and wrote down a number. He handed it to Dean. "How's that for a bonus?"
Dean looked at the sticky note and his mind went blank. "That's, uh, that's very generous."
Adler waved his hand. "Purely selfish. Wanna make sure you're not going anywhere."
"Wow. Are you sure?"
"Positive. You are Sandover material, son. Real go-getter, carving your own way. I see big things in your future. Maybe even senior VP, Eastern Great Lakes Division. Don't get me wrong, you'll have to work for it. Seven days a week, lunch at your desk, bribing your secretary to stay with you. But in eight to ten short years, that could be you."
Dean examined the man in front of him, considering his options. This is what he'd wanted when he got here. He'd wanted to prove himself, that he could do this, he could make something of himself. But Sam's words were ringing in his heads, along with Piper's. There were ghosts out there… Unnatural beings that were hurting people. Suddenly, everything else seemed a little unimportant.
"Uh, well, thank you. Thank you, sir. It's, um… But…" He slid the paper back to Adler. "I'm giving my notice. And, uh, Ms. Tate will give hers, too, when she gets back." Dean didn't know how he knew that Piper would come with him, but there wasn't a doubt in his mind.
"This is a joke. You're kidding me, right?"
"No. I've, uh, we've, recently realized that there's something else we have to do. It's very important."
"Other work? Another company?"
"No, I, it's hard to explain. It's just that this, this is…. It's just… It's not who I'm supposed to be. Who we're supposed to be."
Adler grinned. "Dean, Dean, Dean. Finally."
He stood and pressed two fingers to Dean's forehead.
Dean Winchester blinked and looked around. "What the hell?" He looked down. "Why am I wearing a tie? God, I'm starving. Where's Piper?"
Adler laughed. "Welcome back."
Dean glared, his mind working. "Did I, did I just get touched by… You're an angel, aren't you?"
The man bowed. "I'm Zachariah."
"Oh, great. That's all I need is another one of you guys. Where the hell is Piper?"
The angel ignored his question. "I'm hardly another one, Dean, I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here, but after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get my ducks in a row."
"We are not ducks."
"Starting with your attitude," Zachariah said, pointing at Dean.
Dean threw his hands in the air. "Oh, so, what? This was all some sort of a lesson? Is that what you're telling me? Wow. Very creative. So am I just hallucinating all this?"
"Not at all. Real place, real haunting. Just plunked you in the middle without the benefit of your memories."
Fury was starting to fizz under the surface. "Just to shake things up? Hm? So you guys can have fun watching us run around like ass clowns in monkey suits?"
"To prove to you that the path you're on is truly in your blood. You're a hunter. Not because your dad made you, not because God called you back from hell, but because it is what you are. And you love it. You'll find your way to it in the dark every single time, and you're miserable without it. Dean, let's be real here. You're good at this. You'll be successful. You will stop it."
Dean glared at the angel. "Stop what? The apocalypse? Lucifer? What? Be specific, man."
"You'll do everything you're destined to do. All of it." The angel held his hand sup. "But I know, I know. You're not strong enough. You're scared. You got daddy issues. You can't do it, right?"
Dean clenched his fist. "Angel or not, I will stab you in the face."
Zachariah held his hands up again. "All I'm saying is it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things."
Dean turned away, fighting to control himself. He didn't want to change things. He wanted to be normal, with Piper, and Sam, and Bobby.
As if reading his mind, Zachariah continued. "Save people, maybe even the world. All the while, you drive a classic car and fornicate with that woman. This isn't a curse, it's a gift. So for God's sake, Dean, quit whining about it. Look around, there are plenty of fates worse than yours. So are you with me? You wanna go steam yourself another latte? Or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?"
xxxxx
A/N: Hi, everyone! Here's my notes:
I own only Piper Finley, the original character. I don't own Supernatural, or the characters (heartbroken).
Reviews and comments give me the warm fuzzies and keep me going.
If there are any mistakes in continuity, canon, or geography, blame me.
