Disclaimer: Sam, Dean, Bobby, and any original canon belong to Eric Kripke and the CW. Lines from episode 3x4: "Sin City" belong to writer Robert Singer and Jeremy Carver. The lyrics to "Open Arms" belong to Steve Perry and Jonathan Cain.

Tawny belongs to me.

Living without you, living alone
This empty house seems so cold
Wanting to hold you, wanting you near
How much I wanted you home
Now that you've come back
Turned night into day
I need you to stay

So now I come to you with open arms
Nothing to hide, believe what I say
So here I am, with open arms
Hoping you'll see what your love means to me

When Tawny opens the door two days later to take out the trash and sees the Impala pulling up, she feels like she's going to be sick. Dean looks at her as she tosses the bag into the trashcan by the porch, and Tawny can tell immediately that Sam told him. The fact that Sam won't look at her and has his mouth pressed into a tense line doesn't give anything away, of course.

Tawny's at the steps to the porch when Dean gets out, and she's not too shocked when he gives her the cold shoulder, ignoring her completely as he walks up to the door.

"He isn't mad at you, y'know," Sam says as he walks up to her.

"No? Then why'd he pretend I'm part of the porch, Sam?" she counters, and Sam sighs.

"He's mad at himself. And me. But mostly himself," Sam answers softly, and Tawny shakes her head. "He should be mad at me, though," Tawny mumbles. She mentally kicks herself when Sam's shoulders slump a little and he looks at the ground.

"Oh, God, Sammy. I didn't mean that – " she starts, but Sam shakes his head and holds a hand up. "No, Tawny. You're right," he cuts in. He glances at the door and Tawny does the same, seeing that its still slightly ajar. When she turns her eyes back to Sam, she takes a deep breath.

"Sam, I'm sorry. This is all my fault," she says softly. Sam doesn't say anything, just looks at her. She can tell he knows that she's right. This thing between them – all three of them – was bound to get all mixed up at some point. With all of the boundaries that have been pushed, the things they've done to – and for – each other… well, it was only a matter of time before Tawny was forced to make the choice between Sam and Dean.

"You two comin' in here, or are ya gonna stand out there gabbin' all day?" Bobby asks from the open doorway. Tawny sighs and nods, somehow finding no comfort when Sam's hand falls to the small of her back and gently guides her back into the house. She sees Dean sitting on the couch rifling through his duffle briefly before Bobby comes up behind her.

"When are you gonna go talk to that boy? Don't you think you've punished him enough?" he says softly, but Tawny can still here the concern in his voice. She looks at Bobby for a second, then they both look at Dean, who'd apparently sensed them talking about him.

"Stop starin'," Dean mumbles, and when he stands with a handful of clothes and heads for the downstairs bathroom, Bobby nudges her towards him.

Her feet feel like they've been dipped in lead as she follows him. She tries to think of something –anything – to say, but all she comes up with is "I'm sorry" and she knows that's nowhere near good enough. She catches up with Dean just as he's closing the door, and she puts her hand against it to stop him.

"Can I talk to you?" she asks softly, and Dean looks at her. She fully expects him to slam the door in her face, and probably lock it for good measure, but after a couple seconds he finally nods, waving her in. Then he shuts and locks the door.

They stand there for almost a full minute before Tawny finally speaks up. "Dean, I'm sor–" she starts, but Dean cuts her off.

"Don't," he snaps. He slams the clothes down on the counter and looks at her. "Look, Tawny, I get that I hurt you, I know I did. That's why you left me. But seriously? I mean, did you sleep with Sam as payback?" he demands, bearing down on her. Anger burns at her and she glares at him.

"What you mean is 'did I use Sam', and no. No, I didn't. I would never use Sam," she seethes, so close to him their chests are almost touching.

"But you slept with him!" Dean says, his voice getting louder. Tawny rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, Dean, 'cause you've never used sex as a way to avoid talking about your feelings," she scoffs, and Dean glares at her.

"He's my fucking brother, Tawny. Not just some guy."

"He's the only person I could turn to who I didn't have to explain anything to. He already knew why I was hurt. You'd rather me take a job somewhere just so I can get laid?" she asks before she knows what she's saying. She wants to slap a hand over her mouth, but what's said is said. Dean's eyes narrow.

"Did Sam –" he starts, but Tawny cuts him off.

"He didn't have to, Dean. I know you, remember? When Sam wouldn't tell me where you were I figured it out," she says, and she has to pause to swallow back a lump in her throat. "So, why didn't you stay with her? Obviously she's worth it if you tracked her down like that."

Dean's glare softens and he visibly deflates, and when he reaches out for her, Tawny turns away.

"Oh, God, Tawny. I – It wasn't like that. I was just – We – God, Tawny, I'm sorry…" he finally murmurs. Tawny feels tears prickling her eyes when his hand finally touches the small of her back lightly, and she barely tames the urge to turn and bury her face in his chest. Instead she lets out a shaky breath and turns slowly toward him. She notices he doesn't move his hand, so by the time she's facing him, his arm is wrapped around her waist and their chests are pressed together.

"Me too, Dean."

He finally hugs her, and to Tawny it's the best feeling in the world – it's coming home. They stand like that for about a minute, Tawny hugging his waist, her face pressed into his neck, Dean with one hand just above her jeans, the other tangled in her hair, bent close enough to press his mouth and nose against the strands.

He finally pulls away, the hand in her hair coming around to tuck it behind her ear. "Look, Tawny. I know we can't go back to normal, but can we at least be friends again?" he asks, and Tawny considers him for a moment.

"I miss you," he finally confesses quietly, and Tawny feels tears spring to her eyes again. "I miss you, too," she whispers back, and she returns Dean's smile. They stand there like that for a few seconds before Dean pulls away.

"Okay, now go away so I can shower in peace, woman."

An hour later Sam and Tawny are sitting in the kitchen, laptops open and books and papers scattered everywhere. Dean and Bobby are in the study working on the Colt, just like Bobby's been doing almost every night for the past month. Tawny yawns as she stands, crossing the kitchen to get another cup of coffee.

"I think I may have found a case," Sam mentions absently, shuffling through a pile of weather maps.

"Really?" she asks, trying not to sound too disappointed. Truth be told, she really did miss both the boys while she and Dean weren't on speaking terms. She was hoping that they'd be here at least over night, but from the way Sam has the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he re-reads a newspaper article, they'll probably head out in a few minutes.

"Yeah, definitely a case. Dry lightning, barometric-pressure drop, two suicides plus a mass murder… I'd say it's a case," Sam says, looking up at Tawny. She nods and raises her eyebrows, waving him over to the study without having to ask why he was telling her and not Dean. They both walk over to the study and Tawny walks in, heading over to stand behind Bobby.

"Hey," Sam says, shuffling around with his duffle. Tawny tries to ignore Dean tracking her movements.

"Hey, what's up?" Dean responds.

"Might've found some omens in Ohio," Sam says from the other room, "Dry lightning, barometric-pressure drop."

"Well that's thrilling," Dean responds, and Tawny grabs the die he's obviously looking for, walking over to hand it to him.

"Thanks, babe," he mumbles, and Tawny smiles. Even if it's on Dean's version of auto-pilot, she's always liked him calling her "babe". Every other guy who she's been with has only even done it once; she's always hated being called anything other than her name. But when Dean does it, it sends a familiar tremor down her spine, whether it's in the throes of lovemaking or asking her to pass him a wrench with he's bent under the hood of the Impala.

"Plus some guy blows his head off in a church and another goes postal in a hobby shop before the cops take him out. Might be demonic omens," Sam says, walking up to Dean's other side.

He looks up at Sam. "Or just a suicide and a psycho scrapbooker," Dean counters, and Tawny gets the feeling that he's trying to stay.

"Yeah, but it's our best lead since Lincoln," Sam urges, and this time Dean doesn't even look up.

"Where in Ohio?"

"Elizabethville. It's a half-dead factory town in the rust belt," Sam answers quickly, and Dean looks up.

"There's gotta be a demon or two on South Beach," he complains, but Tawny knows him well enough to know that he's not complaining about missing an opportunity to lie on a beach. Sam humors him though, his eyes flickering to Tawny's with a grin turning up the corners of his mouth. "Sorry, Hef. Maybe next time."

He looks over at Bobby, whose holding the grip, hammer and frame of the gun in his hand. "How's it goin', Bobby?" Sam asks, and Bobby looks up at him.

"Slow."

"I tell ya," Dean chimes in, not even looking away from the bullet he's casting. "It's a little sad seeing the Colt like that."

"Well," Bobby drawls, twisting it around. "The only thing it's good for now is figuring out what makes it tick."

"So what makes it tick?" Sam asks immediately, and Tawny grins when Bobby slowly looks up at him. He doesn't say anything, and Sam holds his hand up and waves him off. Dean grins at Sam, too, before looking at Tawny. He nods at her, and she walks over, taking the bullet mold from him.

"So, if we wanna go check out these omens in Ohio," he asks, standing. "You think you can have that thing ready by this afternoon?" Sam laughs and Tawny grins as Bobby looks up slowly again, this time glaring at Dean. Dean just looks at him expectantly.

"Well, it won't kill demons by then, but I can promise ya it'll kill you," Bobby counters, and Sam and Tawny look at each other with identical grins. Dean smiles and shakes his head, grabbing his jacket.

"Alright, c'mon," he says, turning towards Sam. "We're wastin' daylight."

Tawny sets down the mold on the table, wiping her hands on her jeans. "I'll walk you out," she offers, and Dean's hand settles low on her back as she passes him. "See ya, Bobby," Sam tosses over his shoulder, but Bobby stops them as they walk through the door way.

"You boys run inta anything – anything – you call us," he says, and the boys nod before Dean guides Tawny out of the house. They make it out to the porch in silence, Dean's hand resting just above the waist of Tawny's jeans. Dean shoots Sam a look and he pulls his hands out of his pockets.

"Well, uh, stay safe, Tawny," he says quietly, pulling her into a small hug. Dean's hand stays where it is. Tawny laughs.

"Aren't I supposed to be telling you to stay safe, Jolly Green?" she jokes, and when Sam pulls away he's smiling. He nods and rolls his eyes, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to Tawny's forehead. After a few seconds, Dean clears his throat. Sam mumbles one last goodbye and walks over to the car, so Tawny finally turns to Dean.

"Look, Dean, what I said back there… I'm not asking for you to completely ignore what Sam and I did –"

"And I won't-"

She raises an eyebrow at him. "But," she continues, and she notices his eyes narrow just slightly, the way they do when he's really concentrating on what someone's saying. "I need you to understand that I have things to think about, too."

Dean looks away for a moment, bringing his hand to his mouth, rubbing his chin. When he looks back at her she sees something in his eyes, but she can't pinpoint what it is.

"So, you work on forgiving me while I work on forgiving you? That's what you're saying?" he asks, and there's no hint of sarcasm in his voice. So Tawny nods.

"Yeah, Dean. That's what I'm saying," she answers softly. Dean nods, blowing out a breath she just realizes he'd been holding.

"Alright. I can work with that," he answers. She half expects him to walk to the car without another word, so the chaste kiss that he presses to her mouth comes as a complete surprise. She doesn't even have time to return it before he's pulled away and is headed down the porch steps. He's almost to the car when Tawny calls out to him. He lifts his eyebrows at her, his green eyes catching in the bright afternoon light.

"Don't do anything stupid, ya idjit."

Tawny looks up at sound of two shots. The smell of the gunpowder and the soft sound of the creek remind Tawny of childhood, and she can't keep the grin off of her face. When she was a kid, maybe 10 or 11, Bobby would bring her, Sam and Dean out back here to get in some target practice. It was always summertime, so she'd kick off her shoes and sit at the edge of the creek with her feet in the water. Dean would usually splash her at some point, starting an all-out water-war between the three of them.

Tawny sees Bobby fidgeting with the site, and when his third shot is off key too, Tawny giggles.

"What're you laughin' at, kid?" Bobby drawls, not looking at her. Tawny grins.

"Nothin'. Just wondering if the gun is still off, or if you're just gettin' rusty in your old age."

Bobby turns and makes a face at her, about to tell her off, but a female voice startles them both.

"Cute piece," a blonde says, standing in front of Bobby's sand-bag target. Tawny stands, her hand going to the small flask of holy water tucked into her belt.

"Who are you?" Bobby asks, and the blonde ignores his question.

"Won't stop a demon, if that's what you think."

Tawny narrows her eyes. "How the hell would you know?" Tawny asks, but she already knows the answer. Blondie isn't exactly sending out Hunter signals, which means…

"Oh, I don't know," she says sarcastically, and looks down for a moment. When she looks back up, her black eyes are all Tawny needs. She pulls out the holy water, rolling the flask in her fist, ready for a fight.

"Call it an educated guess…" she finishes innocently.

"Well, ain't I lucky, then?" Bobby says, not taking his eyes off of mystery-demon. "Found a subject for a test-fire."

She laughs, and Tawny wants to smack her. "Luck had nothing to do with it. But, hey, by all means… Take your best shot," she challenges, holding her arms out. Bobby pauses and Tawny momentarily ponders taking the gun from him and shooting the bitch herself. But she doesn't. The demon looks away annoyed before glaring at Bobby.

"Are you gonna stand there like a pantywaist, or are you gonna shoot me?!" she yells, and before she finishes her question there's a hole in her chest. Tawny's chest constricts slightly when the demon doesn't drop. She just stands there looking offended that Bobby actually shot her.

"Ouch. That smarts a little."

Tawny rolls her eyes, sick of the bullshit, "What do you want?" she demands, stepping up next to Bobby. The demon approaches the two of them slowly.

"Peace on earth. A new shirt." She stops a few feet away from them. "Now… do you want me to help you out with that gun or not?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Tawny sees Bobby's eyes narrow. "Alright. You wanna help, help."

Blondie pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket and hands it to Bobby. "There's a couple spells we're gonna have to work. It's probably best we do 'em out her since they can get a bit, uh… messy. I'm sure you have all this in your Walgreens for the Weird."

Bobby takes the list, looking back at Tawny, who nods. She locks eyes with the demon as Bobby walks away.

"So, you're Dean's pretty little lady," she says, and Tawny narrows her eyes.

"I don't belong to him, if that's what you mean," Tawny counters. The demon laughs.

"No, cause you're a strong woman. Don't need no man, right?"

Tawny glares and says nothing. There's a few seconds of silence, each of them sizing up the other, before the demon speaks.

"Look, honey. Your man sold his soul. Boo-frickin'-hoo. But we've still got problems, so you need to suck it up and get back out there. You're a damn good hunter. Good enough to worry most of the big guys out there."

Tawny can tell she's hinting at something, but she can't quite put her finger on it. Blondie rolls her eyes.

"You ever stop to think that the demons in charge are using this to their advantage? Getting you to step back to they can steal second?"

Tawny's eyes widen a little before she can stop them, but she quickly composes herself. "What d'you mean?"

Blondie laughs, shaking her head. "He didn't tell you, did he?" she asks, and Tawny raises her shoulders.

"Tell me what?" she asks, and she's shocked by the brief look of sadness that passes over the demon's face.

"He really didn't tell you," she says softly, and Tawny steps towards her, suddenly sick of all the bush-beating.

"Tell me what?!" she demands.

"He didn't just make a deal to get Sam back. Half of Dean's deal was to keep you safe, which means keeping you out of the game. It's a win-win situation. They get Dean Winchester, and you get taken off the board. Make sure the queen can't protect the king, and it's a guaranteed checkmate."

The entire time they're driving to Ohio, Tawny spends staring at her reflection in the window. She's pissed at Dean, even though she isn't sure she has a right to be. The whole situation is so incredibly fucked up that Tawny doesn't know how to think half the time. She and Dean should be fighting over which apartment to buy, not whether or not he should have sold his soul.

Tawny looks up as they pass the cheery 'Welcome to Elizabethville!' sign, and the happy family painted in the background seems to be mocking her. She resolves to shoot it when they leave.

"You sure that GPS tracking thing is gonna work?" the demon, who'd introduced herself as Ruby, asks from the back seat. Tawny doesn't answer, only balances her laptop on her knees as Bobby pulls into the parking lot of a coffee shop boasting free wifi. Luckily they don't have a network password and within a few seconds she's on Dean's cell carrier's website, punching in all of his information.

"Okay, it says he's on the outskirts of town. Just follow the main road," Tawny says, looking up at Bobby.

Five long minutes later, Bobby parks the car down the street from where Dean's cell is and they all climb out of the car, Bobby holding the Colt. Tawny circles around and takes her salt-round loaded 12-guage out of the trunk. She shoves a few extra rounds in her jacket pocket before the make their way to the house. She spots Sam first, breathing a sigh of relief. She never likes it when Sam called Bobby. It meant they (usually meaning Dean) were in over their heads.

The last few seconds before a confrontation are always Tawny's favorite time during a hunt. Opposite of what people would think, everything slows down for Tawny during those ten seconds. The air becomes crisper, her heartbeat sounds louder, and she can feel the blood pumping through her veins. Years of her father's training pays off, letting Tawny plan her movements with plenty of time to change up the play if she has to. But once Bobby's first shot misses the priest's head and shatters a statue's instead, everything speeds up, Tawny cocks the gun and before she can pull the trigger she feels the invisible grasp and is hurtling towards a wall of the house. She hears the crunch of glass and looks up to see Sam sprawled across the windshield of a car. She can hear voices, but she doesn't take the time to figure out what they're saying.

The next minute flies by in a blur of Sam, gunshots and candlelight, and when time finally goes back to its normal pace, Tawny, Sam and Dean are standing in a basement with two bodies. They spend some time looking at each other, Tawny feeling words trying to form themselves, but they don't. It seems they never do. So they all leave in silence, the bodies of the priest and his lover still on the floor.

Tawny's sitting on the hood of the Impala when Dean finally makes it back to the hotel. Bobby had asked her if she minded him talking to Dean alone, so she went back to the motel. Sam had invited her in, but she declined. She's spent enough time sitting around in motels waiting for Dean.

She hears Dean's whistle before she sees him, and when she looks up she has to squint against the sunlight bouncing off of another car's windshield.

"Not every day I can get a hot girl on the hood of my car," Dean says, closing the last few feet between them. They look at each other for a while, Dean's eyes flicking up to the scrape across her cheek she doesn't remember getting.

"Your dad tells me you're back in," Dean finally says softly. Tawny looks down and sees his hand flex, knowing he wants to touch her. He doesn't.

"Yeah. I'm back in," she says. When she looks back up at his face, he's studying hers. She sees the question in his eyes and he speaks it even though she knows he knows he doesn't have to.

"Why?"

Tawny sighs and squints across the parking lot, a gust of wind blowing her hair off of her forehead.

"Short answer or long?" she asks, and Dean sighs.

"Tawny, when has the short answer ever gotten us anywhere?" he asks, and she can hear the frustration in his voice. So she looks down at her feet and then looks back up at him.

"You can't ask me to quit, Dean," and she has to hold up a hand to keep him from interrupting her. "This is my life, and quite frankly I'm sick of everyone telling me how I'm supposed to live it. Yeah, I live out of motels and eat shitty diner food and have to sleep with a knife under my pillow. But, damn it, I don't care. I don't care that I spend more time on the road than anywhere else. I don't care that my two best friends bicker more than an old married couple. I don't care that I'll never own a house or go to PTA meetings or drive an SUV."

Tawny jumps down from the hood of the car, pressing herself up to Dean. She cups his jaw with both hands and feels hot tears stinging her eyes.

"I don't care because there's a guy who takes care of me, and loves me so much it hurts him. He drives too fast and listens to loud music and drinks more than he should, but I love him, too. I want to spend my life with him, and if that life is this one, so be it. I'll live this clusterfuck of a life. I'm not quitting on you, Dean. So shut up, go get Sam and let's put this shithole in the rear view mirror. 'Cause it's you and me, baby. Forever."

When their mouths meet, Tawny can't help the sob that breaks free. Dean pulls away after a few seconds, pressing their foreheads together. Tawny grasps his wrists where they're at her temples, and the sensation of his fingers in her hair is the best feeling in the world. She feels his lips on the tip of her nose before he laughs.

"Did you mean to sound like a chick flick, or did that just happen?" he asks, and Tawny pulls away enough to smack his shoulder. "Don't ruin the moment, asshole."