Drink

Smoke tangled the bar in hazy ribbons and spicy notes of tobacco tainted the air. My head was light and felt vacant though dizziness hadn't set in yet. I looked towards the flickering light of the candle sitting in a glass holder on the table in front of Dean and I. The dive was dim and every time I tried to see what was across the room my eyes would strain, but I suppose the owner was going for a sexy atmosphere. You couldn't see who was in the booth next to you, but you could make out your date's features.

"Let's get the ball rolling shall we?" Dean's voice broke the monotony and he spoke above the sounds of indie-folk music. His pouty lips were pursed and his tone was inquisitive. "How long have you been sleeping with Sam?"

I tried to play it cool. I tipped my chin up and stared into the neon lights above the bar. "I'm not sure how to answer that. Sam and I don't do a lot of sleeping."

His smile didn't seem quite so sincere, but I had to admit that it didn't lack charm. He threw back a shot of tequila with enough ease that you would think it was luke-warm water. "I suddenly regret asking."

He nudged a shot of tequila my way, and I graciously pushed it back towards him. "I don't drink Tequila."

"I can order you something-"

"I drink wheatgrass or water."

It was as if I had said that I believed that giant purple moon people created the Earth. Dean leaned closer to me with eyes squinted. "You're joking."

"I joke you not."

"Do you mean to tell me that my brother is dating one of those Vegan freaks who wear hemp shirts, have some weird gluten fear, and have bracelets that say make love not war?"

Sam had told me that Dean could be judgmental but this was a bit much. How could he infer all of that from my choice in beverages? I looked him up and down. "I look like a Victoria Secret model and you look like you belong in a King of the Hill episode. Behold the power of wheatgrass." A disgruntled Dean Winchester suddenly straightened from his slouched posture. My words were a stretch of the truth. Dean looked fit, and he was damn handsome, but he could stand to have his ego taken down a few notches. "Besides, Sam and I aren't dating."

I tried to ease the bitterness from my words, but the sinking feeling in my stomach still arrived. It wasn't by my choice. If it were up to me, Sam and I would already have matching tattoos and be laughing about what we would name our first born. Sam just didn't want to commit to me, and rather than questioning it or being insecure about it, I left it alone. If Sam wanted me, he'd come to his senses eventually, right? Why did I still feel like shit about it, then?

I looked over to see Dean laughing at something. At first, I thought he had sensed my deep seeded sadness and was mocking me. Then I realized he was laughing at his own thoughts. "That's a shame. I was hoping that you two were at least dating."

His chuckle rubbed me the wrong way. It felt like sand paper against bare skin, scratching to the bone. "You asked me out to piss off Sam didn't you?"

Another tequila shot followed by him slamming the glass onto the counter with a howl. Dean's smile glistened. "You betcha."

What a petty plan. Sam runs away which hurts Dean's itty bitty feelings. Dean, out of spite, asks the girl he thinks Sam is into out for a drink to hurt Sam's itty bitty feelings. I felt like I was the ball in the first computerized version of ping pong.

"Aww. Take the frown off your face, Diem," Dean said with a hard hit to my shoulder. I hadn't felt my lips turned down in a sour expression until I heard Dean's words. "You at least get to be in my company."

He generously filled my glass up until tequila spilled over onto the table. "Alcohol numbs the pain," he leaned in and whispered into my ear. There was a danger to his voice that made my heart tremble. I suddenly disliked the dark atmosphere that seemed to pin us together. I could smell the liquor tinged with the heaviness of his cologne. I searched his eyes and all I found was temptation. A begging for me to take the drink. To link our sorrows. I felt like Eve being urged to bite the apple.

I clutched the shot and licked my bottom lip. "You've already won, Dean. Sam will be mad at himself and crazy with jealousy when we get back. He'll beg me for every detail and for every word."

"True, but Diem, you'll have nothing to say. I mean you guys aren't even dating. Which is why," he paused and brought my shot glass up to my lips, "you should take a drink."

I was in auto-pilot. Before my inner-self could object, I was tossing back the Tequila and stumbling into old habits.

As it always does, way leads onto way. Shot led onto shot. And before I knew it, my hips were swerving to a deliciously slow tempo and Dean's hands were clutching onto them as if they were threatening to leave. My head felt like it weighed ten times heavier and the dizziness that accompanied it made the lights spin and blur. I laughed at how much I had missed woozy feeling of alcohol and buried my face into Dean's shoulder. "Don't let me go," I breathed into him.

He squeezed and pulled me tighter against him. It was all the answer I needed. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the moment. Didn't second guess his hands exploring my curves.

"Dean," a voice called, just as his hand was about to cup my ass. I was too tired and drunk to open my eyes to inspect who had interrupted the moment.

I felt Dean's chest expand as he inhaled and then let out a low groan. "I'm busy, Castiel. Go away." His words were slurred and tinged with anger. For someone who was only dancing with me to get his brother jealous, he really did seem upset.

"This is urgent."

Dean, with reluctance, unlinked himself from me. My knees wobbled and I had to grasp onto Dean again to regain my balance. "Castull? The angel?" I looked at the man in the trench coat. This was the angel that Sam had talked about? He looked nothing like how Sam had described him.

"Keep it down, Diem," Dean whispered.

"Diem Carpenter and Dean Winchester." Castiel said our names and observed us as if he could see something that we couldn't quite see ourselves. He looked through us, inspecting our souls. I didn't like it a single bit.

"Is that it? Were you going to follow up our names with something or-"

Dean cut me off. "He's strange. Ignore him."

"Don't ignore me. We need to talk. Including Sam."