Bobby's Daughter

I do not own anything you recognize…

Chapter Seven

"Hold it just like this," Dean said. He was attempting to show me how to hold a gun. But he was at a disadvantage. He only had one hand to show me with.

And I knew how to shoot a gun. That was one thing my dad had shown me.

But I wasn't about to tell him that.

I wanted to play him.

"Like this," I asked, purposely holding it the wrong way.

Okay, it's not like I wanted to go out with Dean or anything. It was just… he was cute. Really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really cute. Alright, I cave. He was down right gorgeous. And my age. And he was flirting with me and I was flirting back. So, yeah. I was looking for a one night stand. And if Dean wanted to go out with me and have more than a one night stand? Well, I'm all for it.

"No, no," he said before muttering under his breath, "I'm gonna fuckin' die with you covering my ass."

I laughed. "If you get shot in the ass, I'll be sure to take care of it."

"I'm sure you could take care of it fine." We locked eyes for a second before he looked away. He started to take off his sling. "I don't need this anyway." He tossed it on the floor. "Now let's show the girlie the right way to hold the gun." He wrapped his arms around me and positioned us so we were aiming at the target. "Just like…" He adjusted our aim. "That."

I turned my head slightly. And we were inches away from each other's mouths. "Like that," I whisper asked.

"Like that," he answered, looking at me now.

And I shoved the gun out of our hands, letting it fall to the ground. Pushing him against the deck railing, my hands graced his shoulders. Our lips collided and he grabbed my hips before shoving me against the railing, switching our position.

He nipped at my bottom lip as I let my hands slide to his jeans. I was just ready to pop the button when he pushed us apart.

"No, no," he said, walking away and running a hand through his hair. "You're Bobby's daughter. Sam's missing." He ran his opposite hand through his hair. "Damn it," he cursed, recoiling at the pain.

I picked up the sling from the ground. "Sit," I commanded and pointed to a chair on the deck. He listened. I put the sling back on gently. "Let's keep our distance, Dean. No sexual encounters, alright? At least not until this thing is over."

He nodded and walked into the kitchen. I could tell that's what he wanted. For now at least.

And I wouldn't mind it all that much either.