Becky heard the bump for a second time. She slowly eased out of bed and crouched low to the ground. She and Dean had fallen asleep early that night in her apartment in Orlando after enjoying a nice night in. Becky had been peacefully sleeping when she had heard the first bump. The second bump had come now five seconds later and had her trying to ninja her way to go see what it was. She knew she could handle anything that was down there. Her sleep filled mind bringing up the craziest theories.
She stalked down the steps and heard rustling in the kitchen. She moved to the edge of the door, hiding behind the wall, and waited. She saw the shadow move and came around the corner with all her speed. They met halfway and she stuck her arm out like she was giving a clothesline in the ring. She heard a grunt and the person went down in surprise and pain. She grabbed a nearby pot and hit the light switch, illuminating the kitchen, as she held out her pot like a sword, ready to demolish this idiot burglar with it.
On the floor was Dean, still in his tank top and boxers that he had gone to bed in. He groaned and tried to roll over. Becky's eyebrows shot up and her mouth dropped. "Oh my God, Dean!" She crouched down and tried to make sure he was okay. She'd just clotheslined her boyfriend. This literally never happened to her before, she'd never accidentally done all these painful things to anyone else, it was just Dean.
He groaned and sat up, "Did you get the license plate of that truck that hit me?"
"I thought you were a robber or something, I'm so sorry." She held his face so she could look into his eyes and see if she'd given him a concussion or something. She fretted over him for a few minutes, but eventually they both just sat down in the kitchen, Dean with an ice pack on the back of his head. Becky was still apologizing while Dean was grinning ear to ear.
"I don't know why you're smiling, you lunatic! I almost killed you!"
Dean looked at her dreamily, "I know. I mean I knew you could always take care of yourself, but I'm so fucking impressed." She gave him a small smile. He smirked, "And a little turned on."
She laughed and whacked him in the shoulder; "I don't know why you like me beating you up so much."
"I'm not sure you'd understand if I explained it to you."
She raised an eyebrow. "Try me."
"Okay, well, I guess it has to do with my protective instinct. I'm always going to want to protect you, but we both know you are independent and strong without me here. But at the same time that desire to smother you and hide you away from the world is there sometimes without me being able to stop it. So seeing you in action makes me worry less as well as quiets that voice in my brain."
Becky smiled, "I can take care and protect myself, and you can take care and protect yourself, but sometimes its nice not to have to all the time." She stood up and offered him a hand off the ground. "That's why we work so well, I think. Now, come on. Let's go back to bed."
Dean grinned back, allowing her to help him off the ground. He stood up and moved over to place the ice pack back in the freezer so they could return to bed. Becky caught sight of something that Dean had been laying over. She picked it up and felt all of her blood cool and reheat within seconds.
"Dean," She said in an eerily calm voice.
"Yeah, Becks?" he answered, unknowing of the storm brewing behind him.
"Did you eat my last bag of crisps? You know, the special ones I get from my mom in Ireland. The ones you claimed to think are disgusting." She felt a bit silly, holding the evidence in her hand, but she wanted to see what he'd say.
She saw him tense. His back razor straight, and he audibly gulped. "…There's no right way to answer that is there?"
"You deserved that clothesline."