He'd given Sam clear instructions to make himself scarce for the night. He'd already made hot cocoa - ready to reheat while she showered - and had a few of Sophie's homemade "emergency croissants" thawing on the counter. Things were good.

It was gonna work this time. He repeated the thought like a mantra.

They'd gotten pregnant once.

They could do it again.

Sophie was certainly enthusiast about it.

He'd worried, initially, that she'd be skittish after the seizure last time. It was only two days ago, after all.

But she'd just about physically shoved Sam out the door when Dean asked his brother for the house to themselves.

And when he got back to their room after checking over his preparations in the kitchen and the bathroom, she was kneeling naked on the couch, just like he'd asked.

"Good girl," he murmured, stroking a hand through her curls, "So pretty for me."

He bent and kissed her.

She kissed him back, trailing along his jawline to his ear.

"Someone's needy tonight," he chuckled.

"We don't get a lot of alone time," Sophie replied, blue eyes wide and beseeching, "Gotta make it count right?"

"Oh we will," Dean promised, "Don't worry."

"I washed the sheets this morning," Sophie warned. She went to continue but he cut her off.

"I said don't worry," Dean insisted, "Now be good and shut that pretty mouth. I plan to take you right here."

Sophie giggled, nuzzling into his chest.

"Should I take this off?" He asked, pulling at his flannel.

Sophie nodded.

"Good girl being quiet for me," Dean praised, kissing her as he undid the buttons.

"This too?" He asked, tugging at the shoulder of his undershirt.

Sophie nodded.

"You're greedy tonight," Dean chuckled as he discarded that too.

And then he kissed her. Again and again until she was breathless and soft against him.

"You ready?" He asked.

Sophie nodded, biting her lip.

They'd talked ahead of time, like always. And they'd done a non-negligible amount of experimentation, that may or may not have involved tape measures and diagrams and graphs…Sophie was a meteorologist after all…to find the single best angle for making a baby.

Unfortunately, it was also the single least comfortable position for Sophie.

He undid his pants then settled her in his lap, her back against his chest, apologizing half a dozen times as she stifled whimpers from the pain.

"I know, I know," he murmured, "Good girl. It's just us. I've asked you not to talk but that doesn't mean you can't make noise."

He took his left hand to her hips and his right across her chest and pushed down and back, getting her flush against him.

Sophie yelped.

"Good girl," he whispered, kissing her temple, "It's gonna be so worth it for a baby right?"

Sophie nodded.

He'd never admit it with how uncomfortable it was for her, but on his end this position was great. Then again…she'd been the one with the graphs and the diagrams. So she probably knew, or at least suspected, already.

Sophie shifted uncomfortably at first, but eventually settled into his lap as best she could, breath slowing just from the proximity. The comfort of skin-on-skin slowly overriding any pain and the whimpers softening to quiet little gasping breaths.

And after that things went quickly, what with her head on his shoulder and her beautiful noises in his ears and her smell filling his nostrils.

"Almost there," Dean assured her, keeping his voice gentle as much as he wanted to do otherwise.

He turned his face down to kiss her neck and her sternum. And then heard a flutter of wings.

"I have news of…" Cas began, trailing off abruptly.

"What the hell!" Dean shouted, "I thought this place was warded!"

Dean put an arm across Sophie's chest as she pulled up her knees, trying to preserve some modicum of decency. Dean grabbed his flannel and hastily arranged it over them, glaring at Cas the entire time.

"Were you two…" Cas trailed off again.

"Yes!" Dean bellowed, "Now out!"

"But I have news of…" Cas tried to deliver his message.

"Read the room, man! Not the time! Out!" Dean shouted.

"I'll be…in the hall…" Cas said sheepishly, then disappeared.

Sophie sagged against Dean's chest and he leaned back against the couch.

"I locked every door in this entire freakin' bunker," Dean said, "Sam won't be home for another two hours. And Cas had to…"

He raked a hand through his hair.

"Oh my word," he groaned.

And then he heard Sophie laughing.

"You okay?" He blurted out. There's no way he could be hearing that right. Surely she was in tears?

"Yeah," Sophie chuckled, "I just…Cas…is so smart. In theory. On paper. And yet he just manages to end up in every possible predicament imaginable in the universe even…"

She broke off, laughing.

Eventually Dean relaxed and laughed with her.

"Had he seen a woman naked before?" Sophie asked.

"I'm frankly too scared to ask," Dean replied, he trailed a hand along her back, soothing, maintaining the connection, silently apologizing, "Now what can I do to get you comfortable while I go deal with him?"

"Some clothes would be good," Sophie admitted, "Do you think you'll be long?"
"Oh I am escorting his feather ass out pronto," Dean assured her.

He paused.

"Why?" He asked.

"Well we could…" Sophie averted her eyes, blushing, "Try again?"

"You up for that?" Dean cupped her chin and made her face him.

"You did defrost celebratory croissants…" Sophie said, "So it seems a shame to waste them…and we were having a pretty good time…"

Dean bent in and kissed her.

"You officially win the award for most tolerant wife," he said, "I love you so much. And I will go deal with him as quickly as possible."