A/N: It's probably gonna take me a little longer to write and post the next chapter because I'm moving out of the country and as you can imagine, adjusting to that requires a lot of time, patience and work.

It was indeed a shitty neighborhood, like she said. Dean knew it as soon as Roman told him the address in the morning. He was well acquainted with that area, considering that there were lots of smaller dealers and junkies there that he had to squeeze money out of on his missions for Roman.

It was one of the jobs he did for him, in addition to driving around the city and selling drugs. They were friends since they were teenagers, and Dean was one of his most reliable and loyal "employees". But despite their strong bond, differences between the two of them existed—and were very noticeable. Roman was a calculating man with a nose for business who built his own mini-empire based on drug trade, and Dean was more of a free soul who couldn't bother with dealing with so many people and places and constantly keeping track of all of them through numerous agents. He preferred taking instructions from Roman, not make them, and stay as low-key as his job permitted him. He was the dispatcher and the enforcer, but all of his actions always led to Roman.

Also, Roman was married and had a daughter while Dean never really tied himself to somebody in a romantic way. He had no connections with any family members despite his sister, who he called from time to time. He always wanted a free reign over his life, without anything or anybody weighing him down, and that's what he had. He had no annoying bosses, no overly attached girlfriends, nothing. He was the master of his own life. And if he wanted to, he could go to the other end of the country tomorrow morning without any regrets.

Money was always there to hold everybody back, but he solved that too by stealing. Whether it was getting himself a Snickers because he craved sugar, demanding five dollars more from each junkie to pay for his gym membership without having to take from his own paycheck or robbing a jewelry store in order to buy a small apartment, he always found a solution for his financial problems. He was well aware that he was the schoolbook example of a cheap person, but that was only because he was focused on saving up money. He grew up poor and knew the value of those small green papers very well.

And this neighborhood was dirt poor. He even left his motorcycle on the parking lot in a slightly safer zone that was a ten-minute walk from her address just so it wouldn't get stolen while he was away from it. Hiding behind his leather jacket, a black baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses, he got into her building and took the stairs to the third floor.

Paquette. That was it. He rang the bell and waited. Soon enough he heard light footsteps approaching the shabby door. He assumed that she was probably looking through the peephole, so he took his hat off to look more presentable.

The door opened just a little bit and he could see that she had a door chain inside before her very gloomy face framed by short cascades of wavy platinum hair greeted him. She wore no makeup, but her hair was less messy than the last time he saw her. She was ridiculously pretty. "How the hell did you find me?"

Dean shrugged, his eyebrows raising and giving his face an innocent look. "I have my ways."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

"Rude. You can do better."

"Leave right now or I'm calling the cops", she spouted, her nostrils flaring. Dean almost seemed offended.

"Why?"

"You're a creep who is invading my privacy. I don't want you close to me."

"I'm here to thank you for giving me a ride yesterday. I really don't mean to disturb you or anything."

"Well, good, you thanked me. Now go away."

"I will, once I give you something. A gift. C'mon, I'm human too."

"I don't want your gifts. Yeah, you're a human, but you're also a stranger and I find this really weird and unsettling."

"I totally understand, but I brought you something really nice."

There was a moment of silence between them. Dean reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and showed her a glimpse of the diamond bracelet he brought her. Her eyes widened. "Holy shit." She put a hand over her mouth. "Is that real?"

"It is. White gold and diamonds. Take it to the appraiser. He'll tell you if you don't believe me."

She was speechless for a while before her expression reverted into the unfriendly, narrow-eyed one and her hazel eyes looked straight into his icy blues. "Why are you giving this to me? Why do you even care?"

"I don't like the feeling of… owing people. I wanted to somehow make up to you for the other night. Besides… you're pretty."

She didn't even seem to notice his compliment. "Give me one good reason as to why I should let you in."

"So I can give you this", he showed her the bracelet again, "without feeling like I'm handing you a baton in some sort of a race… and also to have a cup of coffee with you."

Disdain, mixed with disbelief, crept into her features. "Are you low-key asking me on a date?"

"Maybe."

"Our first encounter involved a gun against my head and you trying to steal my car. How fucking delusional do you have to be to think that I'll say yes?" She was almost hissing at him at this point.

"Alright, so what am I supposed to do in order for you to say yes?"

"A decent first impression would've been nice."

"I'll take that as a dare."

"Whatever." She closed the door in his face, but Dean just smiled to himself. He loved a good challenge and not only was she a challenge by herself, but she also created challenges for him to overcome. And he had a feeling that this one would be fun.