Dean drove back to the bunker, tapping his steering wheel to the song playing on the radio. Kristin was in the passenger seat with another stick of cotton candy, happily shoveling it into her mouth.

Dean felt a warm, calming sensation spread from his chest and out to all his limbs.

"What're you smiling about, Winchester?"

Dean glanced over at Kristin. "Am I smiling?"

"Big time."

He shrugged. "I don't know. I feel good. We had a good day, didn't we?"

"It was a great day."

"It was."

"It's nice to see you smiling."

Dean looked at Kristin, and their eyes met. There was a flutter in his chest, then the warmth spread through his gut. He smiled, and turned his eyes back to the road.

Why did she have to be so perfect for him? She never showed any interest beyond friendship, and it drove Dean half crazy. She ate like he did, liked his music, liked his taste in movies. He even admitted his love of the occasional romantic comedy to her. Why? Because she was so damn easy to talk to. She was accepting. She was also fiercely protective of him and Sam.

But she never showed any interest, and he would rather her be in his life as a great friend than to lose her trying to take it further.

When the song on the radio changed, Dean turned up the volume.

"Here we go," he said.

Kristin laughed as Dean sang along to Ramble On. When the chorus came, she sang with him. They pulled up to the bunker and Dean threw the car in park while they sat and finished the song.

Sam looked up as they walked into the library. Kristin was still nibbling on her cotton candy as she sat across the table from him.

"Beer?" Dean asked with a hand on her shoulder.

"Sure."

Dean thought about the palm reader as he walked to the kitchen. We was worried about what might happen to him. So far everything was fine, but what happened when he started feeling this other person's emotions? What if he started feeling them and he never figured it out? It would never stop.

Despite the worry he felt, he was happy. It was a happiness he rarely felt. It was contentment.

Maybe the happiness wasn't his.

He walked back into into the library with a smile on his face.

"I was just telling Kris," Sam said, "it looks like you two had a good time."

"We really did." Dean handed Kristin her beer and sat next to her. "It was nice to just take a beak from everything."

"And the cotton candy is excellent. Worth the trip for that alone."

Dean laughed. "It was really good."

"Well," Sam said, "I hate to burst your happiness bubble-"

"Then don't."

"We have a case."

Sam spun his laptop around so Dean and Kristin could see the screen. There was a news article up.

"Three men missing over as many weeks," Sam said, "just about four hours from here."

"What do you think it is?" Kristin asked.

"I wasn't sure at first, but the first guy's body popped up two days ago drained of blood."

"Vampires?" Dean asked.

"Maybe."

"All right. Let's hit the road."

Dean pulled into the motel parking lot a little after ten o'clock that night. After some research, they discovered that one of the missing men was at a club the night he disappeared, so the three of them decided to start there.

They walked in one at a time and spread out. There was a bar to the far left. Dean claimed his spot there. A large, crowded dance floor filled the middle of the space, with seating areas all around. Sam found a semi-empty couch. Kristin went straight out onto the dance floor.

With a beer in his hand, Dean turned in his barstool and watched the room. He found Sam, then Kristin, then looked for anything out of place. But his eyes kept going back to Kristin. It didn't take long for some guy to work his way over to her and start dancing with her. She tried to keep her distance, and worked her way toward the edge of the crowd, but he kept pressing closer to her from behind. His hand would land on her and she would brush it away.

Dean felt the aggravation rising up quick while he watched. Were guys really this clueless when it came to women showing they weren't interested?

When the guy's hand landed on Kristin's backside, Dean slammed his beer onto the bar and was on his feet. He wove his way through a few drunk college kids, pulled back his fist, and broke the guy's nose. The guy grabbed his face and doubled over as blood poured down his arm and onto the dance floor.

"What the hell!"

Kristin's eyes were wide as Sam approached.

"We should go," Sam said.

He pulled Dean away, and Dean grabbed Kristin's hand, practically dragging her. Once they were outside, she yanked her hand from his grip.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Are you kidding me? That guy was all over you?"

"He could be our bad guy, Dean. I had it under control!"

"Guys," Sam said, "you can yell at each other in the car, okay? Let's get out of here."

Sam nudged Kristin into the backseat, and Dean got behind the wheel.

"He was just trying to flirt," Kristin started.

Dean left black tire marks on the road as he took off.

"His hand was on your ass!"

"So, what? You think I couldn't handle some douche bag with grabby hands? You think he's the first guy to not take a hint?"

Dean felt the aggravation turning into anger. She was right, and it was pissing him off. Of course she could handle herself. He kept quiet, not wanting to say something he couldn't take back.

Just as he pulled into the motel parking lot, Kristin broke the silence.

"I wanna know why you felt you had to punch that guy in the face."

Dean threw the car into park and opened his door.

"I didn't like the way he was touching you."

Kristin followed him with Sam on her heels.

"What the hell do you care?"

Dean took a moment as he tossed his keys onto the dresser. This had to come out right.

"You know we protect each other. I look out for you just like I look out for Sam. That guy wasn't our monster, but I didn't like his intentions."

Kristin just stared at him a moment. In that short time, Dean felt like he had been punched in the gut, then a surge of red hot anger that he didn't understand.

"You can keep your damn big brother sentiments to yourself, Dean Winchester. I don't need you looking out for me like I'm a little girl."

"That's not what I-"

"I don't wanna hear it."

Kristin grabbed a change of clothes and locked herself in the bathroom with a slam of the door.

Sam sat quietly on his and Dean's bed and watched the whole thing. When Dean turned to him, he just shook his head.

"What," Dean said, "no words of wisdom?"

"None. That escalated fast. I don't even know what happened."

"Me either." The anger was beginning to fade.

"Why did you punch the guy like that?"

"I don't know."

"Seriously? You don't know?"

"What do you want me to say?"

Dean grabbed the television remote and sat on the edge of the bed. As he flipped through the channels, a heaviness fell over him. It was a sadness that settled in his chest then rose like a lump into his throat, until a tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped at it in surprise, then looked at Sam. He hadn't seen it. And Sam certainly didn't seem sad at the moment, so it wasn't Sam's emotions he was feeling.

But it certainly wasn't his own, either. He was questioning every feeling he had since the carnival. The happiness that seemed so foreign. The anger that seemed out of place a few minutes ago. Now this sadness that actually made him cry.

Dean knew these weren't his emotions, but if they weren't Sam's... His eyes drifted over to the closed bathroom door. This time, he knew the heaviness in his chest was his own.

Had he made Kristin cry?