63: Catch

"Now this, this is romantic."

"Come on, sweetheart, this was good times."

They had meant to steer clear of the tequila, not go on an agave fueled binge… so much for good intentions. As the dancing began to wind down and children were ushered home, the remaining adults had… let their hair down, so to speak. Jane wasn't as three sheets to the wind as she had been last time, and neither was he, but they were both drunk enough to do incredibly dumb things. Well, she was. He was just fueled up enough to do dumb things, but given who he was… she figured that was sometimes par for course.

Like visit the cemetery they had had their first 'hunt' at, at one in the morning.

"Dean, I was terrified I was going insane." Jane informed him, glad he could apparently see by the light of the moon because she sure couldn't. "If I fall, and take a cactus up the ass…"

"No cacti here, Janey, you'll be fine. Now if you want to take something else up your a-"

"Say it and die, Winchester!" Jane caught herself on him when she did trip, feeling his hands going to her waist, and started laughing. "Dean… we should go back."

"I want to see…" Dean buried his face in her neck, trying to steady himself when his foot caught against something. Oh… it was her. "You burnt that bitch to a crisp…" He kneeled down in the dirt, running his hand down her legs. "Caught yourself on fire too."

She remembered that. She had wound up in the bride's grave, with flames on her skirt. "Get up, Dean."

"Mm."

"Dean!" She placed her hands on his shoulders. "Come on, I want to go back down to town."

Groaning, he pushed himself back to his feet, glancing around and finally nodded. "Probably not the best idea, coming up here."

She didn't know whether to shake her head or nod it, finally trying for both and failing completely. "I'm too buzzed for this."

"Hey, here it is!"

He had the attention span of a three year old and Jane squinted through the dark, finally making him out, and began the process of trying to weave herself through the tiny stones without killing herself. She began laughing… killing herself, in a cemetery…


"What'd she say?"

"Um… I think something about drinking and things breaking?" Jane wasn't in any condition to translate, but she did manage to get out a very botched apology for waking the nighttime clerk from her nap. She assumed they did not get many people stumbling into the inn at this hour, drunk, and felt fairly bad about it.

"What does she mean by things breaking?" Dean demanded, throwing a curious look back at the grumpy, tired woman as she retreated into the room behind the counter. "What'd we break last time?"

"The bed probably."

Dean tried to remember if they had broken the bed…. "I remember some really, really good sex, but not that."

"I'm surprised you even remember the sex."

"I am too." Dean began laughing when Jane threw a punch at him and totally missed, her body spinning in a circle, very cartoon style. He reached out to steady her, really trying not to laugh anymore but… her face, the expression she wore was priceless. "Okay, bedtime for Jane." He sniggered, almost dragging her towards their room. "Got the key?"

"I don't even have pockets." She growled, gasping as a shoe came off. So much for dragging her heels… "My shoe!"

"Mrs. Winchester, you are too drunk." He clucked his tongue, leaning her against the wall before feeling for the key.

"I need my shoe."

"You need to go lie down."

"Shoe first."


Jane glared at her shoe, wondering if Dean thought he was being funny. "What happened to 'no tequila'?" She muttered, staring at him through her sunglasses. They hadn't even left their room, she was sitting in the middle of bed, sucking down water, nibbling toast, and praying the Tylenol would eventually kick in. She had woken up with a regretfully familiar feeling of rocks and glass in her head, and he… he had been chipper. He had also, at some point, set her shoe on top of the table, right where she could see it.

"Hey, I was fine with beer…" Dean was an accomplished drinker; he could hold his liquor these days. She, apparently, still could not. "You're the one who took the first drink."

"I'm a jackass."

He, wisely, didn't say a word.

Jane sighed, gingerly pulling herself towards the edge of the bed. "No more tequila, ever. I might just divorce you the next time I drink that shit."

"Fine, we'll get you hooked on whiskey."

"Works for me."

He leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee with a grin as she made her way into the bathroom. Poor Jane…, couldn't hold her liquor. He was rather glad it had made her sleep as hard as it had though; he had woken up to another damn nightmare. He hadn't attacked her, but he had woken up disoriented as hell and barely managed to roll himself out of bed, some part of him recognizing what was going on and not about to hurt her again.

They had only a few more days left, and then it back to the grind of attempting to save the world from the apocalypse. He felt a mild twinge of guilt, knowing with things literally going to hell around them; this was probably not the time for a vacation.

But what the hell was the point of saving the world if he couldn't, just once, enjoy it with the woman he loved?


Lucia was the cutest little girl Jane had ever met. She, obviously, seen a lot of children, but very rarely spoke with them. Not unless it was related to a hunting case, and those were times when she really hated being around kids, kids were victims.

Once her hangover had turned into something more acceptable, like a mild migraine, she had ventured out for some fresh air. Dean had left an hour or so before, muttering something about errands, and not wanting to drag her grouchy ass around. Jane smiled slightly; he was probably up to something, another surprise. It was… different. Dean had a sweet, sorta romantic side to him.

So here she was, outside, sipping tea because she was certain that was all her stomach could handle. She had been people watching when the girl, Lucia, had come up to sit with her. Lucia was nine, talked a lot, and was curious about everything, asking a million questions. She also talked a lot about things Jane probably shouldn't hear.

Lucia spoke broken English and Jane spoke broken Spanish, so the conversation was fairly amusing and they both laughed a lot. The girl's mother had joined them for a little bit, scolding Lucia for being a bother. Jane had made the woman laugh with her very horrible accent and mangled words as she tried to reassure the woman that the girl was fine.

Over the day, Jane's migraine tempered down to something manageable and eventually forgotten, allowing her to agree to Lucia's requests to go walking about. It was an interesting experience, visiting the town, for something other than shopping, and viewing it from a perspective much different than hers.

It was outside Lucia's house that Dean found them, sitting on a small wooden bench. He had returned from his errands and been surprised to find Jane was not where he had left her. His Spanish was very limited so finding her had been a chore and a half. He stood away from them, remaining in the small alleyway he had walked up and just observed.

"She is quite adept with children."

Dean didn't even jump. He was getting more than used to Castiel just appearing out of nowhere. "You've been M.I.A. awhile." He said dryly.

"There is much going on, Dean, much you do not know about."

"Going to fill me in?"

"Not just yet." Castiel moved to stand beside Dean.

"If not for me, think she'd have one of her own?" Dean gestured towards Jane and the girl.

"No." Castiel said simply, but with confidence that Dean wished he possessed. "I don't think there was any other alternative for Jane. This was it."

This was it, Dean echoed in his head. "We'll never have that, will we?" He was surprised at how he sounded, realizing that someday, maybe, if he had kids, he would want to have them with her.

"That is not something I would know, Dean." Castiel shifted slightly. "Nothing is decided yet, everything hinges on-"

"Lilith and the seals."

"Yes."

"Always a catch."