It had been about half an hour since Sam had left, after first having convinced Mia to stay with Dean, just to be sure that nothing would happen to her and to keep an eye on him, making him stay in bed. The cemetery was about an hours drive away so he would be gone for a while, but had promised to call as soon as he was done or if anything odd happened.

Mia and Dean had both had some food and the drugs were slowly wearing off for Dean, making him a little more achy and a lot more alert. The fever seemed to be almost gone, much to Sam's constant nagging and cleaning out his wounds, and he only felt a little clogged up and snotty. This was the best he had felt for a couple of days now and it had taken Sam a bit of effort to convince him to not tag along, dark rainy graveyards not being the place for someone who was recovering from a nasty cold.

There were candles and oil burning in the room, giving it a warm glow and Dean sat leaned back in bed, wearing just sweatpants. They'd decided to leave his chest un-bandaged for a couple of hours, to completely dry the wounds out. He was flicking through channels while Mia finished the last of the dishes and made them tea after having promised Dean to not put anything in it to make him sleepy. This was probably the most he had slept in years and he felt fairly rested and wanted to stay sharp in case Sam would need him. Dean had settled on an old western movie as she sat a cup of steaming tea down on the nightstand, again reassuring him that there was nothing other than some chamomile, whiskey and honey in it.

"You sure you don't want anything for the pain?" Dean raised an eyebrow at her and she raised her hands in defeat and nodded.

"Okey okey.. just thought I'd ask... again."

She went back in the kitchen to grab her cup and considered Sams bed as she got in to the room again, but Dean scooted over and gestured for her to sit next to him. She grabbed two of Sam's pillows and sat down, hugging her tea to her chest. Dean cleared his throat, forcing himself not to cough and she handed him his cup, urging him to drink. He took a couple of small sips and it calmed his throat enough for him to breath without that raspy feeling.

"Better?" He nodded and she took the cup from him again and placed it on the nightstand.

They sat shoulder to shoulder for a while in silence, watching the movie. Mia enjoyed the feeling of his arm rubbing against hers when he laughed at the screen. She glanced over to the side, silently admiring his chest and ripped stomach moving in rhythm with the laughter .

"You checking me out?" His raspy voice made her jump and she cleared her throat and looked to the side to hide the blush that flared up on her cheeks.

"I was just looking at your wounds... they look better."

"Uh-huh." He winked and smiled and then carefully lifted his arm and put it around her shoulders, deciding that the ache was worth holding a her close. It had been too long since he felt this close to someone.
There was still an itching worry in him that he should be out there and help Sam, but he tried to focus on the movie, tried to distract his mind with other things. He wouldn't properly relax until Sam was back and safe and within eye shot.

The stress of the day and the lack of sleep the previous night was starting to weigh on Mia, she could feel her eyelids getting heavier and heavier. For the first time in a while she felt completely safe and relaxed.
She carefully adjusted her body so that her head was resting against his shoulder nook, one hand placed on his stomach.

Dean let his hand slide down over her back, softly stroking, focusing on the feel of her skin and the warmth of her breath on his chest. He was silently cursing the cold and the wounds that made him feel weaker than usual. He wanted to be out there with Sam. Or in here at full strength... the things he could do to this woman. But now all he had energy for was holding her close, which, he had to admit, wasn't as boring and annoying as he would've expected it to be. He surprised himself with actually wondering about whether she was comfortable and warm enough.

She tried to keep her eyes trained on the screen to watch the movie but they kept sliding down, fixating on that little part of skin between his bellybutton and the hem of his sweatpants. With a soft, slow movement she let her fingers slide there, almost holding her breath, half expecting him to tell her to stop. When she got no protest she let her hand rest there, fingers slowly playing against his skin, eyelids getting heavier, until all she could hear was his steady heartbeat and all she could feel was the warmth and safety of his skin.

I know this is a little short but it felt right to stop here, I have the next chapter almost done. Hope you enjoyed this even though there wasn't much action. Reviews makes me happy and inspired, as ya'll should know by now ;) xx