The date was easy going and filled with the swapping of so called stories. Then they got talking about family. U. M., as she preferred to be called, was the adopted daughter of two Norwegian immigrants. She had four adoptive half siblings and two adoptive full siblings. Her life had been filled with abuse and she had roughly separated from the family. Dean related his life of being Dad's perfect soldier and commented his actual distaste of the position. He told about Sam leaving for Stanford.

Once again, he didn't know why he could share these things with her. It was a mystery to him. Maybe now it was her openness with her own history. Somewhere at the end he made a comment that they could be on one of those dating site commercials. She had laughed at that, but agreed. They agreed to meet again the next night, and then the next night, and then the next night. The genuinely enjoyed each other's company.

Then, in the middle of the night, Dean was woken up by his phone ringing. He rolled over in bed next to U. M. and reached over her for his phone.

"Hello," he said when he had flipped up the phone.

"Who is it Dean?" U. M. had asked sleepily.

"Dean? Where are you?"

"Dad! Uh I'm at a motel in North Carolina," he lied through his teeth.

"Really because Frank and Helen said you never left Florida and you're shacking up with some girl."

Dean mouthed several curse words and shot U. M. an apologetic look. "Look Dad, I'm getting ready to go right now." He got out of bed and started pulling on his jeans.

"Dean if you ever pull anything like this again just for a lay I will kill you."

"She's not just a lay Dad," he objected.

"Like Cassie was? You know better than that Dean, at least I hope you do."

"Shut UP Dad. I'm on my way."

"Don't use those words with me Dean. Now hurry." He'd hung up after that. Dean sighed.

"Sorry, I have to go," he sighed as she got up and pulled around her robe. She looked great in it, he thought briefly, then shook his head.

"This is it, isn't it?" she asked, tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it isn't your fault," she pulled the robe tighter and he just wanted to kiss away her fears. But then he thought, how have I become like this? This woman has someone he wanted to protect, yes. But he shouldn't. Or he should at least be able to feel the same about the rest of humanity. And suddenly this wasn't Dean Winchester anymore. This was Dean Westminster. Someone he now wanted to lose, with U. M. along with him.

"I'm sorry I've lied to you."

"I know, Dean Winchester." He stared at her, shocked.

"How do you know?"

"I asked Helen about you," she replied simply. "Now I think you should go before your Dad calls again."

"Kicking me out?"

She smiled, "Not at all. I just feel you're better suited without me."

"That's not true, if I could take you I would."

She smiled sadly at him, "No you wouldn't." She tossed him his t-shirt. "Now go get 'em Mr. Detective." That's right… He had told her he was a private detective.

"I love you," he said as he walked out the door with his duffle, staring back at her.

"You shouldn't, and I shouldn't, but I love you too…"

XxXxXxX

A few years later he was in a book store with Sam, who had recently started hunting again after the death of his fiancée Jessica. They were browsing for books for Sam when Sam gave a small noise of surprise. He pointed down at a book by one U. M. Locke. But he had never told Sam about the young author. Then he looked lower down to see his own name. He snatched up the book and looked on the inside cover to see it said: Stories by Dean Winchester, Dramatization by U. M. Locke.

"Who's U. M.?" Sam asked.

"An old flame… Didn't know she'd take my stories and make a miracle of them."

"She was like Cassie wasn't she?" Sam accused.

"No she was much different. I never told her what I was though."

"We should confront her about this; she published it without your knowledge!"

"If you really want to Sammy, just behave yourself. She's different."

So they made their way to Florida. She still lived at the same address, and was surprised when the brothers knocked on her door. Her legs were flattered by a tunic length white sweater with a boat neck that made Dean want to attack the shown skin with his mouth. He shook away the thoughts, reminding himself they had never been really together.