Day of the Dead

Chapter Six: Apologize

Dean carefully balanced the tray of flowers, beer, and pie as he opened Dalia's bedroom door. He'd felt like shit after he'd let her go check on her mom alone. The whole drive back to the bunker he'd been thinking about all of the things he should have said, should have done. After he'd gotten home he'd apologized profusely, all but begging her to forgive him. She had a little bit, but he was still trying. He was waiting on her hand and foot, giving her anything and everything she wanted or asked for. He even had a special plan for them in a few hours.

He walked into the room and set it on the table beside the bed. Dalia looked up at him, taking her headphones out and setting her computer off to the side. "What's this?" she asked, looking at the tray.

"Thought maybe I'd sweeten you up before I asked you to dinner." He sat beside her and took one of the beers from the tray, taking a drink. He was nervous as hell. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually gone on a date with someone. God, Lisa was probably the last person and he was pretty sure they'd just gone to a bar. He'd never done anything at the level of what he was planning.

"Dinner?" She smiled and took his beer, taking a drink from it. "What did you have in mind?" She reclined back against her pillows, stretching her legs out in front of her.

He stretched out on the bed beside her, putting his hand on his knee. He watched his fingers as he spoke, drifting them up and down her thigh. "Well, I was thinking you slip on that little black dress that I love. The one you bought for when we had that gala event? Maybe a pair of sexy black heels."

"Sounds fancy." She smiled, watching him trace the hole in the knee of her jeans. "What's the occasion?"

He shook his head and looked up at her. "No occasion. Can you be ready in an hour?"

"I think I can manage that." She bent down and kissed him. "But you have to leave."

"Yes ma'am." He kissed her again and walked out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.

Dalia sighed and pushed a hand through her hair. She knew Dean was trying to make up for letting her go off alone. She appreciated everything he was putting into it. She just wasn't sure that it was going to be that easy. She got up and went to her closet. The last time she'd worn the dress she'd had to cut the side so she could fight the witch they were up against. That had been a particularly painful hunt. When she thought about it, Dalia could still feel the nails that she'd choked on.

She sighed and sat on the bed, hemming the rip she'd put in the dress to make it look natural, fixing the frays. As soon as she had it up to her standards she pulled it on and went to sit in front of her mirror to apply her makeup.

By the time her hour was up, Dean was knocking on her door. "Just a second." She got up and slipped her feet into a pair of heels, and put her pistol into her clutch. She opened the door and felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight of Dean. He really meant about going all out. He was dressed in a suit, but not the cheap FBI one that she usually saw him in. He was wearing a black suit, cut perfectly to fit his body. She bit her lip.

"Ready?" he asked, offering his arm. Dalia nodded, at a loss for words. She wrapped her arm around his and let him lead her down the hall. Sam and Elena looked up when they got to the library. Sam whistled as he looked them over. "Alright, that's enough."

"I feel like we should take a picture of this," Sam teased. Dean rolled his eyes and led her past them and up to the stairs. "Behave!" he called after them.

Dalia smiled a little as they walked into the garage. Dean walked her around to the passenger's side and opened the door for her. She was starting to feel bad about being so mad at him. He helped her in and closed the door, walking around and sliding behind the wheel. "So, any clue as to where we're going?" she asked.

He smirked and looked at her as he started the Impala. "Nope, it's a surprise." He gave her a wink and drove out of the garage. He reached over and took her hand as he drove. Dalia smiled. This was nice. It was something normal people did. It was a nice break from the rough and dirty of the job.

He drove an hour away from the bunker and pulled up in front of one of the fanciest restaurants Dalia had seen. There was a valet out front. Dean climbed out, handing the keys to the kid as another man opened the door for Dalia and helped her out. She smiled, watching Dean give clear instructions on what to do with his car before he walked around and took her hand. He led them inside and gave his name to the maître d. She was impressed when they didn't have to wait and were escorted back to a table in the middle of the room.

She smiled when Dean pulled her chair out for her. The man left them menus and the wine list before walking off. She looked at Dean and smiled. "This is impressive."

"I try." He reached across the table and took her hands. "Look, Dalia, I'm sorry. For everything."

Dalia shook her head as the waiter came over. Dean quickly ordered some wine for them. She assumed he got the suggestion from Sam or Elena. He also took the opportunity to order their dinner. It wasn't lost on her that he ordered her favorite. Once he left she looked back at Dean. "I know you're sorry," she told him. "But baby, we need to talk about this."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I know we do."

She sat back and took a deep breath. She needed to talk to him about this. The last time she tried they'd ended up getting into a fight. She was really hoping that didn't happen this time. "I know he's your dad, and I know you love him. Every child loves their parent." She rubbed his hand with her thumb. "But can't you see that he's poison for you?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't see it that way."

She nodded her head and waited while the waiter brought the wine and left again. "I know you don't, and that's the problem." She sighed and shook her head. "The others and I have been trying to find out how he came back because it shouldn't have happened. It's not natural. And he didn't come back right."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed and rubbed her temples. "I've heard stories about John. I don't think that he'd try to kill a kid like that. Or fake a text message from my mother."

Dean nodded his head. "I know." He sighed and thanked the waiter who brought their food. Dalia took a sip of her wine and watched him. "I can't say that I like it, but I can say that I agree something isn't right about Dad." He started cutting into his steak. "I'll help you guys try to figure out how he got back."

"There's more to it." She watched him as she took a bite of her pasta. "I think he's under someone's control. Whoever brought him back is controlling him."

He sighed and looked at her. "I guess that's not the strangest thing I've ever heard."

She smiled a little. The rest of the conversation was geared more towards them. Dean asked her where she would like to vacation if they ever got the chance. He told her they would go spend a weekend with her mother once things settled down a bit. He told her how impressed and turned on he'd been when Sam told him what she'd done to Crowley.

By the time they made it through dessert they both felt like they were back to where they needed to be. They were happy. She sat in the middle seat, leaning against Dean with his arm around her shoulder as he drove home. When they walked down the stairs, Dean whispering into her ear about all of the things he wanted to do to her, John was waiting in the library. Dalia's heart sank a little bit.

"Dean, I found another case. We need to talk about it." She sighed and pulled away from him, heading back to the bedroom.

Dean caught her hand, stopping her. He kissed her head. "Sorry, Dad. We can talk about it in the morning," he said, surprising the hell out of Dalia. "I've got something else I need to do." He led her back to his room and opened the door for her.

Dalia tossed her clutch on the desk and slipped out of her heels. Dean pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She moaned softly into his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. This is what she needed. She needed just one night to be with Dean. No ghosts, no vampires, no father's back from the grave, no plots to steal her soul or kill someone. Just her and Dean, making love in their bed.

Dean reached behind her, slipping the zipper of her dress down as he kissed her. She unhooked her arms from around his neck so he could slide it down her arms, letting it pool around her feet. He pulled back, looking at her. He bit his lip, running a finger between the strap of a garter and her thigh. "Have I ever told you how much I love these things?" he whispered.

She smiled and unbuttoned his suit jacket, pushing it from his shoulders. "Well, if you like them that much," she said, looking up at him as she unbuttoned the crisp white oxford, "then maybe I'll leave them on." He groaned and picked her up, lying her back on the bed. He kissed her neck, running his hands up her sides. Dalia moaned, arching under him, grinding her hips against him. She reached down and started on his pants. "Baby, I can't take teasing tonight, please."

He kissed her, moving her hands of the way to pull at his pants himself. He kicked them off, moving his lips to her neck. "Don't worry baby, I'm right there with you." He tossed the rest of this clothes over the side of the bed and nestled between her legs, rubbing against her. She whined, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Dean slid into her slowly and bit his lip. Dalia arched under him, rocking with him. They both needed this, they needed to love each other. This was better than any kind of apology he could give her. He needed to know that she still loved him and she needed to know that he still wanted her, above John, before John.

It was slow, passionate, romantic, everything they never got in their lives as hunters. It was everything they needed.