I've had way more fun with this story than anticipated…may even end up writing a slightly more AU sequel if there is interest! Appreciate you all reading!
Reviews make me happy :)
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It was ten o'clock. Sophie was awake, cogent, and showering. Dean sat on the floor outside the open bathroom door. Sam was out scouting the local bar scene for reasonable targets.
"You still okay in there?" Dean called.
"I'm washing my hair, give me a minute," Sophie called back.
"All good," Dean replied.
Sophie emerged a few minutes later, in only her towel. She went to her duffle and started getting out clothes, but Dean stopped her.
"So about our plans for tonight," he said, uncertain how to broach the topic.
"I thought the plans involved more medication and then a lot of sleep?" Sophie asked, her brow furrowing with worry.
"Except if we need more medication we're also going to need more cash," Dean said, "Which we don't have at the moment."
Sophie cocked her head. Someone turned a key in the lock, and Dean instinctively grabbed his pistol and aimed at the door.
"Just me," Sam said apologetically, slipping inside. Sophie pulled her towel closer as Dean tucked his gun back into the waistband of his jeans.
"So you're taking a paid job tonight?" Sophie offered.
"Not exactly," Dean replied, "We - including you - are going to hit up a couple local bars. Sam's good enough at math that he can cheat at poker and I've got good enough aim to make a few hundred bucks off of pool."
"We're doing what?" Sophie asked in disbelief.
"It's iffy on the ethics front, but it does work," Sam put in.
"And why do I have to come?" Sophie asked.
"Because you were convulsing on the side of the road six hours ago," Dean replied, it came out harsher than he meant it to, "Which means I'm not letting you out of my sight for the next four to six months. Got it?"
"That's fair," Sophie agreed. Dean took her shoulders and dipped his head to meet her gaze.
"Look I know this isn't ideal," he said, "And I'm so sorry. But we don't have a lot of great options right now and I'm certainly not leaving you alone. Alright?"
Sophie nodded as Dean kissed her gently.
"I still need clothes though," she said, turning back to her duffle. Dean's hand lingered on her shoulder, taking reassurance in the contact.
"Unless of course part of your plan is selling my body," Sophie snorted.
Sam chuckled, but Dean's grip tightened on her shoulder.
"Not a chance," he growled.
"So what does one wear to steal money at a sketchy pool bar?" Sophie asked, "Not exactly my expertise."
Dean sat her on the bed and sorted through her duffle. The academic tidiness and femininity ran through almost every article of clothing she had. He finally settled on a pair of faded denim joggers and the oversized thermal she wore to bed. He shrugged out of his own flannel and handed it to her as well.
"So the goal aesthetic is hobo?" Sophie deadpanned. Sam chuckled but Dean's expression was grave.
"You are gorgeous," he said.
"Thank you," Sophie replied sweetly, blushing a bit and looking down. Dean caught her chin and forced eye contact.
"And what I would like to avoid is anybody touching you inappropriately or trying to take you home with them," Dean said earnestly, "Ideally we can also avoid lewd glances but given you are a woman under 65 that might be too much to ask at a place like this. Skirts give a little too much…access. And most of your pants are fitted, which is great except when it isn't. Jeans with a belt means a lot of work to get you undressed. This thermal leaves exactly everything to the imagination. And tie a flannel around your waist and you've greatly lessened the chances of someone grabbing your ass. Make sense?"
"Makes sense," Sophie agreed, though her face was ashen.
"Listen," Dean said, his voice softening as he crouched in front of her, "I know this sounds stressful. This will be stressful. But we're looking out for you, okay? I'm looking out for you. It's gonna be fine."