Disclaimer: Not my show. Not my boys. I wish they were. But alas, no one offered to give them to me.

Author's Notes/Warning: Ok, so yeah, this chapter is longer then ever, but I suspect you'll be ok with it. Enjoy!

Dean's POV - Chapter 5.5

Leaving Stanford, Dean could do nothing but ruminate about what he had seen. What he had heard. What he had felt after hearing Sam. Sam thought he was doing him some sort of favor? By cutting him off? Practically disowning him?

"Fuck you, Sam," he cursed. He had found himself speeding through the streets of Stanford, just to get the hell out of there and back to the "normalcy" of his obsessed father. He realized he'd better slow down, though. The last thing he needed was to get pulled over by the police and to have it blow up into some big thing that got him arrested and alerted Sam to his presence. With the way he was feeling, he'd surely get locked up for resisting arrest, then Sam would disown him for sure.

He drove through residential streets until he was in a more commercial zone and started to see signs for I-280 N – the road toward home – or what was passing for home this month. Once he hit the highway, he sped up. It was still kinda early, about 10 p.m., but he should be able to fly under police radar in a dark car like this. He remembered he had actually taken the car on his way out of Reno. Normally he and his dad would not return to the scene of the crime, so maybe ditching the car here in another state and picking up a new one was in order.

Dean continued driving, looking for the best opportunity. Then he spotted the sign off the highway – Cal's Used Cars. "Ah, hey Cal," he purred at the sign, merging to exit the highway. "Semi-mint condition Honda Civic here. Wanna trade? Yeah? Thanks!"

Dean pulled into the darkly lit lot. There were rows upon rows of all sorts of previously loved cars. He knew he'd need one that he could swap out for the Civic, leaving the car in the other vehicle's place, so he started in the back of the lot, furthest away from potentially prying eyes and ears.

There was a 1990 black Ford Explorer with tinted windows calling his name. It was actually kinda cute – for a Ford. She was no Baby, of course, but as long as he was stealing, he may as well steal as much horsepower as he could.

He pulled the Civic in front of the cars that were next to the Explorer, got out and popped its lock with his ever-present jimmy. He fiddled under its dash until he got it started. Looking around, he didn't see anyone stirring, so he quickly pulled the vehicle out of its spot, leaving it running while he parked. He hopped out again and ran back to the Civic to move it to its new home. He quickly wiped the steering-wheel, indicator and door handles free from finger prints with his sleeve. All set.

The Explorer was actually quite quiet and Dean appreciated that as he went back to his musings about Sam and his recent revelations, hitting the highway back toward Reno.

(~~~)

It was too late for Dean to worry about hiding the car when he got home. He parked in front of the house and checked the car's clock. After 2 a.m. If Dad hadn't missed him before, he surely would have by now. And with this hunt being top priority, Dad would also most likely be steaming and assuming Dean hadn't done his job.

Dean leaned over to look at the windows of the house. All dark. Then he glanced over at the driveway and saw Baby. Yep. Dad was home. And what were the chances he was sleeping? Dean knew he was an adult. Dad knew it too, but didn't hesitate to remind him who was boss when he felt like it. So if Dean was lucky, he would just get a verbal dressing-down, then he could hit the sack. He had been lucky up to this point. He knew he had crossed the same line repeatedly, but he couldn't bring himself to care. What he needed to do was shake himself out of the funk he was in. He wasn't sure how, but he couldn't let Sam reduce him to a whiny girl.

"You want me to go on with my own life, Sam? No problem. I can do that."

Dean got out of the truck, but thought it best to at least try not to announce his arrival, just in case Dad was asleep. He closed the heavy door as quietly as he could and headed up the walk. Ascending the porch steps, there was nothing he could do to maintain the quiet short of tip-toeing. But he wasn't going to act ashamed of needing this time away to get things straight.

He'd walk in there and slip as silently as he could –-

Before he could get a firm grip on the door handle, Dean felt it nearly being ripped from his hand as the door swung open with more force than he had applied.

"What the hell!" Dean gasped. He shook his hand from the burning the snatched door handle had imprinted upon it.

"Exactly! What the hell and where the hell!" John was huffing – again. Dean was only partly startled to see it was him who had opened the door before Dean could get a hold of it.

"Dad! Why are you hiding in the dark, man!"

"Where have you been, Dean? Why didn't you answer my calls? I dropped you off yesterday!"

Yesterday? Dean was confused. "What?"

"It's after 2 a.m.!"

Oh yeah, Dean remembered, but he decided to see what playing the adult card would get him. Sometimes Dad appreciated a show of strength. "What? Do I have a curfew now? I'm 24, dude!"

From the look on John's face, Dean assumed this would not be one of those times. "And that's as old as you get after tonight!"

As John yanked him away from the front door, Dean braced himself for whatever might come next. Unfortunately, he couldn't always be sure what that would be. A reminder about cell phone etiquette? The lateness of the hour? Not going AWOL during an important mission? None of these put as elegantly as that, of course.

John was pissed. Dean knew it. What surprised him was how John held back. He knew the Law of Winchester. There were only so many warnings and alternate forms of distraction before the law was laid down. Dean had been given more stays of execution than he knew what to do with. For now it would be enough to finally do what they should have done hours ago – compare notes about their respective investigations – then…who knew. Dean would just enjoy the peace for as long as he could.

(~~~)

John had commanded that Dean stake out some house on Poplar Street. It was possibly the house-sitting job of the next victim, but all he could do was wait and see. John would follow the company's owner to see if he led anywhere. Dean knew it was going to be a long day sitting in one place. He also knew this was one of John's semi-punishments – not letting him do anything more interesting – and if he knew what was good for him, he would do just that – stay put.

Dean woke up the next day intending to stay put. He didn't need to wonder about Sam anymore. He had his answer. He could just move on until Sam decided he needed his brother again, or maybe Dean could just cut him off too.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily as he mulled over that option and walked through the small house. Dad was nowhere to be found. Checking the window, he saw the Impala was gone. "Huh. See ya, Dad."

Rubbing his hand down his face, Dean thought about the day ahead. "A long day of sitting around doing nothing requires a big breakfast," he decided. And that sounded like a call for a visit to the Quick Time Diner. Dean had been so busy stewing over Sam and chasing ass clowns, he almost forgot about his sexy distraction.

He checked the time. The diner would be open and Belinda would be working. All he needed was something to go. He wouldn't take that long.

Dean took the fastest shower possible and got dressed in record time. He gathered into a small duffle the supplies he thought he would need to get him through the day and headed out.

It was early yet. None of the victims had died in the morning and the house-sitter would probably not even be doing anything of interest right now anyway. He could spare a few minutes to say hello to a friend.

Remembering how long the walk was the first time he went, the drive over was a blur. The lot had a good amount of cars, which meant Belinda and her friend Theresa would be a little busy. Dean would stay at the counter so he wouldn't risk getting Belinda fired by taking up too much of her time shooting the breeze while sitting in her section.

The diner door brushed the bell above it, letting the staff know of a customer. Dean saw Belinda talking to a couple of truckers who were as smitten by her as Dean had been the first time he saw her. He shook his head as he threw a leg over an empty stool. Was that a pang of jealousy? You are becoming a girl, Winchester. Get a grip!

Theresa spotted him as soon as he hit the door and walked over when he landed at her counter.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, handsome? Ready to try a brunette now?"

"I couldn't handle it, Theresa."

Theresa snickered as she placed a coffee cup in front of him.

"There's only one way to find out, sugar." She poured fresh coffee into the cup. "Sugar?" she grinned, shaking the dish of packets in front of him.

"I'm good. I just wanted to get a sausage breakfast sandwich to go. Got a little job I've got to do."

"Oh, I've got a bigger job you can do, honey. Anytime."

"Hey! Get your own out-of-towner," Belinda piped up, smiling a bright smile at Dean. She looked at the kitchen where her boss was last seen, then leaned over to plant a quick peck on Dean's cheek.

"You here for the breakfast…" she asked waving at the counter where Theresa stood, "…or the dessert?" she finished putting one hand on her hip.

"Uhh, both?"

"Good answer," Belinda laughed. She walked around the counter and stood next to Theresa, leaning over to speak low to Dean while simultaneously using Theresa to shield her from the boss she had yet to locate.

"You know what time I get off, if you'd like a little playdate," she winked.
Dean smiled a genuine smile at the stunning blonde. A girl like her just didn't seem to belong in a place like this. What was it about her? He had seen many beautiful women in his life. He'd had more than his fair share of most of them. But Belinda was…radiant. Sweet and sexy at the same time. Her flawless skin glowed and Dean had to stop himself from reaching out to touch her.

"You know you want to, Dean," she said.

"Huh?"

Belinda leaned in closer. "Touch me," she whispered. "You want to touch me, yes?"

"Uh, yes please." Dean sat back, clearing his throat to regain his composure. "Um, but not now, I'm afraid. Got a little job to do today and I'm not sure how long I'll be."

Belinda quirked her head as she considered what Dean said. "Does it have anything to do with..." Belinda looked around to see if anyone was listening. "…what we were talking about last time at the casino?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that," Dean replied suavely.

Belinda leaned in closer. "I can't deny you make me wet at the sight of you."

If Dean didn't know better, he'd have thought he was blushing. What was it about this girl?

"It would be a crime to leave me in this state, Dean," Belinda continued.

"Yeah, you're right. But my dad? He's back and if I don't go do this job, I'll have greater charges to answer for. But, uh, I get conjugal visits. I'm sure we could work something out?"

"When do you get out?" Belinda asked, happy to play along.

"Not really sure. Can I call you?"

"You better."

Theresa brought Dean his sandwich all wrapped and ready. Her hand lingered on his as she passed him the bag. "You know sugar, two can play that game. Or three, maybe?"

"Oh, Theresa, don't tease." Dean winked at her, brushed Belinda's hand and walked out while he still had the power to do so. That girl would be the death of him if he wasn't careful. He glanced back and saw both women watching him walk away. He had never felt so objectified. He smiled. He loved it.

Hustling back to the car, Dean pulled out the address Dad had given him. He had a map of the town and had already mapped out the route last night to prove to Dad he was serious about doing what he was supposed to do.

He placed the bag on the passenger seat as he got the car started up again. After all, it wasn't Baby, so what did it matter if the seats got a little greasy? Pulling the map onto his lap, he drove through the town to the finer residential areas on the other side. He made more turns than in a maze, but finally found himself on Poplar Street. Now he just needed to find an inconspicuous place to park. In a neighborhood like this, it might be odd to be sitting like this and not getting out, which is why he always came prepared.

Driving a few blocks away and taking a couple of right-hand turns, Dean pulled over on a quiet-looking street. He opened the duffle and fished out two magnetic signs. Jumping out the truck, he looked around then slapped a "U.S. Census" sign on each door. Most folk had no clue when it was time to take the census or what happened in between, so he doubted anyone would question his presence.

He hopped back into the truck and made his way back to the house, finding the best spot he could afford to take without being too obvious. The truck's tinted windows gave him a little more anonymity than the Impala usually provided, not that he was complaining. He'd never complain about Baby. She was perfect.

Sinking down into the seat, Dean pulled the diner bag onto his lap, glanced over at the house to make sure nothing was happening, then checked the time. Damn. It wasn't even 9 a.m. He had a long wait in front of him.

(~~~)

The breakfast sandwich only lasted so long. The Busty Asian Beauties could only entertain so much. The radio in this town sucked, plus it drained the battery. It had been 3 hours already and Dean was starting to feel hungry and cranky. Sam came back to mind, his conversation with the mysterious girl replaying in Dean's head.

Maybe it's just better if we don't speak for a while.

Dean should just go on with Dad and I'll go on with my life.

I have you now, Jess. That's all I need.

Dean leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He could picture Sam saying those very words with nary a look of remorse. But then again, why shouldn't he? He hadn't asked for this life. Neither of them had. Sammy hadn't wanted to be in on the hunts as often as Dad forced him. But he had the courage to say so. Dean had chosen not to rock the boat. Sammy deserved more than this. Of course he should go his own way. All the pain that had been brought on him when he was too young to even recognize it as such was bound to take its toll at some point. This is what happens when a boy doesn't get to keep his mother. Dean had had her for 4 years at least. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to give him something to hold on to, memories to keep her real for him for the rest of his life.

He had tried to make her real for Sam too, but he never had enough words to paint a truly accurate picture. So he tried to stand in for her instead. He tried to be for Sam everything Mom had been for him, especially when Dad was otherwise occupied. He wanted the best for Sammy forever, and college was the best choice. Dean? This life? Dad's mission? They weren't.

"You're right, Sammy. Of course you're right. You're a freaking genius." Dean nodded as he began to accept this new development in their relationship. "You should go on with your life. But I'll be here for you. I'll always be here for you."

Dean looked out the driver's window, swallowing in an effort to push the pain of it away, embracing the happiness he knew Sam must be feeling about his life away from them.

He closed his eyes a moment longer, trying to be ok with it all. A bang on the passenger window startled him out of the moment.

Dean leaned down to get a look at who was outside the truck. Could some cop finally be wondering what his business was in the area? Pushing the button to let the window down a little and leaning over a bit, he saw it wasn't a cop.

"Belinda?"

"Hi honey. Can I come in?"

Dean unlocked the door, gathering the items on the passenger seat and tossing some of them into the back seat. He moved the duffle to the floor.

"How did you…"

"…figure out where you were? I have a sixth sense like that."

Dean knitted his eyebrows in confusion.

"OK well I was in the neighborhood and I saw the truck. I recognized it from the diner parking lot."

"In the neighborhood? Belinda, you don't live in this neighborhood."

"No, but a girl can have friends, can't she?"

"You sure do have a lot of friends."

"You mean how does a working-class girl like me have so many friends with money?"

"No, I didn't mean…"

"It's ok. It's a legit question. Thing is, Deanie baby, I work because I want to, not because I have to." She winked at him, brushing golden strands from her face as she looked at him.

"Slummin' it?"

"No, I wouldn't put it that way. You just meet the most…interesting people in diners, you know?"

"People like me?"

"Hell yes, honey. You are the most interesting of all. All that lust and angst coming off you. I could practically taste it."

"I'm that obvious huh?"

"Well, it's not your fault." Belinda pursed her lips as she pondered him. "I seeeee…a troubled childhood. Maybe the family drama even continues?"

Dean raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"I see a man who doesn't know his own worth, always taking care of others, putting them before himself."

"Are you some kind of clairvoyant?" he asked her seriously and a tad suspiciously.

"Mercy, no!" she laughed. "It's just a gift, that's all. I guess you could say I read souls? I don't know. I've just always been really perceptive."

A charged energy permeated the air as they sat in silence looking at each other. Belinda smiled and ventured a finger out to stroke Dean's hand as it rested on his thigh.

"You know, I can help you forget about that weight for a little while. Maybe even longer, " she looked at him seductively, "if you want."

Dean bit his lip, struggling to remember what he was doing before this vision of perfection entered his car. He felt her warmth envelop him. His eyes fell to her finger softly stroking his hand; then they made their way up velvety arms to her neck. He now longed to lean over and plant the smallest of kisses from her ear to her collarbone and back again, making her squirm and gasp like he knew he could.

He licked his lips hungrily, and his eyes found their way down now, towards the little patch of skin showing just above the buttons of her blouse. But it just wasn't enough. He needed to touch her, to experience that gorgeous body with all of his senses. By now it was pretty obvious to see that Little Dean had come to life, but hey, they were a team – what was good for one, was damned good for the other.

Belinda shifted position, propping one luscious leg slightly on the seat and adjusting her skirt with her right hand, as she wrapped all the fingers of her left around his and guided him to her thigh, and the wet promise that awaited him just that little fraction higher up...

"Dean?"

He watched his hand as it started to stroke her thigh, making circles on her skin as he steadily moved further upward, knowing that his sweet reward was oh so close…

"Dean?" she repeated.

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna get out of here? Your dad is out, right? Maybe we can go to your place? I really want you to take me in your bed this time."

"Uh huh," Dean quickly croaked, as Little Dean bobbed in agreement.

(~~~)

He couldn't drive fast enough. Every thought at that moment was on the delicate hand that had found its way back to his thigh and was making its way up. Belinda leaned over to kiss his ear, her tongue playing with the nape of his neck. It was all Dean could do to concentrate so he didn't crash the truck before they played out every thought in their heads.

"Slow down," Belinda laughed. "Don't want to get a ticket and pour cold water all over this fire we've got burning, do you? "

"Do you really think mentioning a wet T-shirt contest is going to help me concentrate better?" Dean teased, as his mind instantly pictured her hard, eager nipples standing out through the cotton of her blouse, just waiting, waiting…

Belinda's grin grew and she tossed her hair over her shoulder as she leaned in further to turn Dean's head for the deepest kiss she could give in less than a few seconds. She pulled back, planting one more kiss on his puckered lips.

"Eyes on the road, babe," she chided as she sat back in her seat, one hand playing with the short hairs on the back of his soft neck.

"Damn it," he muttered.

"What?"

"Too many lights."

Belinda smiled again as she looked up. There were quite a few still to go, as she recalled. She watched the one before her as it turned from yellow to red as they approached. It switched to green just as they reached the intersection.

"Huh," Dean said. "That was good. More please," he said to the traffic lights.

They drove at the fastest speed they could without drawing attention to themselves and Dean moved one hand back to Belinda's thigh as he took advantage of the series of green lights he had been blessed with.

He felt his way under her skirt and Belinda leaned back, parting her legs a bit as she moved her skirt higher.

Dean felt the heat coming off Belinda and took a deep breath to maintain his focus on the road while simultaneously stroking Belinda's inner thigh, his finger exploring until it hit the crease at her pelvis.

Belinda breathed deep herself as she shifted slightly down in her seat to give Dean better access. He looked over at the pleased expression on her face, feeling encouraged by her silence.

Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he shifted over in the seat a little and Belinda rested her hand on his arm, squeezing her approval of his touch. His finger pressed and Belinda inhaled, releasing the breath as she relished his movements to get to the center of her. He felt for the side of her panties and began to push his way inside them.

"Dean," she breathed.

"Yeah?"

"Don't stop."

He chuckled. "You mean the car?"

"You know what I mean," she said tersely, not wanting any distractions.

They were close to the house now, but Dean needed to feel her for even a moment first. His finger played with the slight hair it found, lightly stroking as it searched for her entrance.

Belinda licked her lips and shifted a bit more as she spread her legs a little further for him.

Reaching her warm lips, Dean pulled his finger from the top as far down as he could go, pressing a little to feel the warm wetness inside them.

"Oh god," Belinda moaned.

"Wow. You weren't joking were you?" he asked. "You said you were wet for me."

"Umm hmm." Belinda couldn't form words as she felt a second finger slide deeper inside her, tickling the top of the lips between her thighs. She could already feel the heat starting to spread below her and she grabbed Dean's hand, effectively stopping him from going any further.

She exhaled, opening her eyes, taking a moment to regain her voice.

Dean looked over at her expectantly, licking his lips.

"Uh uh. Not yet. You are not gonna make me lose my shit in this car, Dean. Not before you take off every stitch of my clothes and put those lips all over me, you hear?"

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned. They were pulling into the driveway of the house now and he could not park the car fast enough. Belinda leapt onto his lap and kissed him with all the passion that had been building ever since they had first laid eyes on each other in the diner and even after they had first been together. Her tongue pressed against his lips and found his own waiting to wrap itself around hers once she had pushed her way inside.

The steering wheel pressed into her back so she pressed closer to Dean, running a hand through his hair and squeezing the tight muscle of his upper arm as she leaned her head back inviting him to dive into her cleavage and take what he wanted.

His tongue found her neck as he kissed and sucked her, roaming down to the tops of her breasts, both hands now traveling up her thighs to squeeze her firm ass.

Undoing one button with his teeth, he dove further into her rising bosom to suck at the skin there. He pulled back to look her in the eye. She felt his hesitation and looked down.

"What?"

"I thought you wanted to wait. You know, to strip you and kiss you all over?"

"Oh Dean, honey, you will. You will. This is just the appetizer, baby, and it tastes better if you eat it warm."

Grinning back at her, he gracefully snaked one of his hands back up to unbutton her blouse further, his tongue just wasn't quick enough for the job, and Belinda shifted as far back as she could to unbutton his jeans and force the zipper out of the way.

She was wearing a bra that hooked in the front. How convenient, Dean grinned approvingly, instantly prying the hooks apart, freeing her breasts but for a moment before his hand claimed one, his lips the nipple of the other.

Belinda groaned as the pressure at her nipples forced her to lean back some more. She could distantly register that her legs weren't in the most comfortable position, but there was no will left in her to move before Dean had had his fill of tasting her nipples, sucking, pulling until they grew hard and ready.

"I'm not sure how much more I can take, Dean. I think I need you to fuck me. Now."

"Happy to oblige," he answered, reaching between his legs now to free his eager cock from the confines of his jeans as she rose up to pull the side of her panties away. They sought each other until she felt the hardness of him demanding to enter her.

Positioning herself over him, she slid slowly back down. She was warm and slick, and Little Dean slid in smoothly while Big Dean moaned with pleasure as he felt her tight vagina around him. It was Dean's turn to lean back now, eyes closed as he felt the warmth in his lap. The slick sound of him moving inside her as she began to ride him was overpowering. He slid his hands inside her panties and grabbed her ass, lifting and rocking as he squeezed her firm buttocks tight.

Shifting slightly, he found himself a little deeper inside her and she could not contain her moan. Gripping both of his arms tighter, she found the flexibility to spread her legs a little more as she pumped him harder, getting closer to him as he got deeper inside her.

Dean yearned now to lay her down and take control, plunging into her until she begged for mercy. But that was to come. For now, his body felt like jelly, unable to do anything but submit to her insistence to be satisfied as fast or as slow as she wanted. He would respond to whatever she did, his mind taking a siesta as the rest of him complied.

She bounced harder on his lap as the heat began to rise once again. She couldn't get close enough to him and yet she wanted to pull away to make that feeling last forever.

Dean gripped her back, leaning into her as he tried to wait. She could feel him trembling beneath her.

"It's. ok." she reassured, continuing her rhythm in between words. "Almost there. Almost there!"

Dean held on to her as he exploded within her, then he leaned back again to grip her thighs as she pulled the last of his essence from him, filling her body with the fireworks of warmth that radiated down to her fingertips.

Gasping, her forehead fell against his and together they breathed loudly until one of them had regained enough self-control to speak again.

Dean's awareness started to return as he looked down between them.

"Shit."

"What," she panted.

"I…I'm usually not this stupid, Belinda. I'm really sorry," he said dejectedly.

"Huh?" she asked, pulling back, her breath not quite even. "What is it?"

"Protection? I knew you weren't on the pill. I just don't know what the hell I was thinking…or not thinking. I never forget, B. I swear. I'm really sorry about that."

"Oh!" she laughed, grabbing his face and rubbing his cheeks. "Don't beat yourself up. After all, I started this. I used protection that first night because, well, you know. I didn't want you to think less of me."

"Never," he said in all seriousness.

"I can't get pregnant. Don't worry."

"You can't?" A look of concern crossed his face. Just because his childhood had been a landmine of issues didn't mean he thought childhood or children were all bad.

"It's ok. Really. I've made my peace with it. I have gifts to share with the world and it makes me happy. But right now, I am sharing my gifts with just you." She smiled and leaned down to plant a light kiss on his lips.

"Would you like to open another?" she asked.

"Hell yeah."