That night, as we prepared to go out, I exercised all my self control. I wanted to protest the "look" that Kirsti devised for me, but I knew the distraction probably did her some good, so I held my tongue. She had a beautician's license and she did some work out of the spare room in the house. I got to experience her expertise as she trimmed my hair for the first time in years, chatting about folks we ran with in the summers. I was feeling dubious about the amount of hair on the ground around me as she snipped, eventually sending me to the shower, with strict orders not to look in the mirror. I did my best not to think about anything, Dean, the case, my life, at all as the shower head pounded on my back.

I started to feel pruny, and I didn't want to use all of Kirsti's hot water, so I hopped out a toweled dry. By the time I emerged from the bathroom, Kirsti was already dressed in a form fitting little black dress, emphasis on the little. Her hair and makeup were perfect, and I felt a twinge of envy in the pit of my stomach as she set some clothes down on her bed. My smile was nervous as she sat me down to work on my face.

Finally, Kirsti was satisfied. She made me dress and then sent me in to the closet to look in the full body mirror. She'd wanted it to be a surprise, and it sure as hell was. I could see the expectant look on her face over my bare shoulders in the reflection of the mirror. Kirsti had blown my hair cut, curling the ends. It still hung a few inches passed my shoulders, but I hardly recognized it with all the work she did. I never thought my hair could look that good, and to be honest, it probably wouldn't look that could ever again. I don't care what anyone says, no matter how manageable or easy a style is, you can never reproduce what happened in the salon. Maybe they were all secretly witches?

I solemnly surveyed myself, in awe of what she had done. My hair looked healthy and shiny, framing my face and cascading over my shoulders. She'd lined my eyes in black, and between that and the mascara that lengthened my lashes, my eyes popped. Yup. Definitely witches.

She'd dressed me in a dark plum. The top was strapless with a sweet heart neckline that, quite frankly, terrified me. Kirsti was at least a dress size smaller than me, and it baffled me that she didn't realize that. I turned and looked at my profile. The bodice was super tight down my torso, lifting my breasts and holding in my tummy as it lay flush down through my hips, stopping just above my knees. It would have been damn near modest from the waist down if it weren't for the slit on the right side, running far enough up the front that the black lace of the from the unopened pack of thigh highs that Kirsti had bestowed on me peaked out. I took a big, deep, nervous breath, and blushed as I saw the affect it had on my chest in the dress.

If that wasn't bad enough, when Kirsti found out that all I brought were tennis shoes, a pair of work boots, and some flip flops, she forced me in to a pair of designer heels that made me cringe, they were so high. I'm no stranger to stilettos, but I'd assumed those days were long behind me. No hunter would be caught dead in heels like those. Well, actually, if they did hunt in them, they would be caught, and probably end up dead, so that is not an accurate turn of phrase. Regardless, the cumulative effect of the makeover made me feel… dubious. "What do you think?" Kirsti sounded pretty damn proud of her handy work.

"Well, I mean, it's a little much, just to go to the Hole. Isn't that place a dive?"

"That's exactly why it's even more important to go all out. We'll brighten the place up! Besides, when guys as hot as those two you brought with you take you out, you gotta do your damnedest to keep their attention!"

Don't I know it, sister. I sighed. "Let's get it over with, then." I squared my shoulders and followed Kirsti out. We grabbed our jacket and walked to the front doors, and I could feel how the combination of heels and tight dress made my hips move. I blushed, but part of me was a little excited to see how Dean would react. If he would react at all.

The sun had set, and I thanked God that my old woolen peak coat hung down below my hips, concealing most of the flesh on thighs that the dress exposed. Kirsti and I rode in the back seat behind the boys, and I was surprised when Dean came around to open my door for me. I nervously smiled thanks, and the boys headed in to get us a table. The little dive was the only place to drink in town, so it was crowded.

I took a cue from Kirsti and slid my jacket off, throwing it in the back seat of the car as she looped her arm through mine. "I'm glad you're here, Oli."

I smiled, trying to be careful of the ruby red lipstick that Kirsti had forced on me at the last minute. "Me too." Despite my nerves, I was actually telling the truth as we headed into the Hole.

Like most small towns, the bar was filled with local hard noses, the limited singles scene, and young couples with no kids to watch for the night. I swallowed the lump of apprehension in my throat as I felt the draft from the door shutting stir the air. The bar was small, but with the crowd it took a moment of scanning before I caught sight of the boys, looking relaxed in the back corner. Sam was nursing a beer, Dean had a tumbler of whiskey and there were full shot glasses lined up on the table. The juke box was playing Credence, and as Dean looked in our direction, I felt the familiar urge to turn and run, or dig a hole to hide in. I turned my usual shade of pink as his eyes swept down the two of us. It seemed irrational to assume that the look in his eyes was just for me, especially with Kirsti there next to me, sparkling away, but I let myself pretend for a moment, anyways.

Kirsti slid in to the booth first, and I settled down next to her, immediately snatching one of the shots and downing it to reinforce my courage. Sam, Dean and Kirsti made small talk, and I occasionally nodded, but most of my attention was focused on not allowing any of my tightly constrained body parts to escape my dress.

Another round of drinks came, and I threw back another shot. I still felt like I was thrumming with anxiety. I figured the alcohol must have been defective. Two shots of that local fire water should have had me feeling relaxed, if not loosie goosie. I considered writing a letter to the brewer to complain. If the booze worked as advertised, I wouldn't have wanted to assault my child hood friend for the way she was looking at Dean. I fought down my jealousy. After all, I had no right to be mad. I had no claim on Dean.

I hid my grimace behind my glass and took a sip as Kirsti laughed a little too enthusiastically at one of Dean's jokes. The guy was charming, sure, but no one was THAT funny.

"Something interesting in your drink?" My eyes shot up and met Dean's. He was a little flushed. His alcohol must not have been defective.

"I'm trying to focus on keeping my boobs in my dress." I cringed inwardly and resisted the urge to facepalm . I guess my alcohol wasn't defective either. It was just delayed.

Sam and Kirsti burst out laughing, and Dean wore the smirk that made me want to punch in and jump his bones, in no particular order. "Is that all? Loosen up, sweetheart. I promise no one would mind." He gave me a wink that made my heart flutter and I lowered my gaze to the table again as I turned red.

I barely heard the excuse the Winchesters made to Kirsti as they left the table. Whatever they said they were doing, I knew they wanted to grill the locals for intel on the case.

"Hey, Oli?"

I turned to look at Kirsti as she took a sip of her Mike's Hard. "yeah?"

"That Dean… He's super hot. What's the deal with him?"

I blanched. I'd seen this coming, I should have been more mentally prepared. I took a gulp of my drink to buy time. "Deal?" I tried to look nonchalant. Either I succeeded or Kirsti was too buzzed up to notice.

"He's single, right? It's just him, his brother, and you? Wait… You two aren't- are you? 'Cuz, you know he looks like he would be fun to hang out with. Alone. Preferably naked."

I could have spontaneously combusted. I reached a shade of red that I had never achieved, in all of my experience with blushing. Kirsti laughed. "Sorry. You've become such a prude, it's kinda fun to get a rise out of you."

I practiced the Bitch Face I'd learned from Sam so long ago, on the first night we met. Kirsti's laugh intensified. "You are too serious. But, really, and I mean it, you have to be honest because I'm WAY to drunk to know any better… It wouldn't be bad of me to make a move on him, right? I think I want to go home with him." My brow furrowed. I figured Dean had already been laying it on pretty thick with Kirsti. I didn't understand why she would need to make a move. I also didn't like that she was going to, but like I said, I really had no right to claim him.

It took a lot of work to set my jaw so that I didn't word vomit all over Kirsti about my conflicted feelings for Dean. My school girl crush wasn't her problem, and expecting a single guy not to jump at the chance to sleep with Kirsti was like expecting the sun not to rise. I just shrugged, standing. I know my smile was weak, but I gave it my best shot . "I guess it's really up to Dean."

As I walked to the bar for one more drink, I kicked myself. I thought I had squashed the worst of my feelings, but judging by the sickening knot in my stomach, I'd missed some. I mentally prepared myself for a looooong night.

A/n - Mary Jane and petrovascurls, you guys give me ALL the feels. (I took your advice in a future chapter, petrovascurls, btw :) )