Heads up - explicit content ahead. If you don't want to read it, you can just skip the end of the chapter

May 5th, 2005

Tullahoma, as it turned out, was even duller than Conklin had promised, and by day three, Lorelai was ready to climb the walls. The first day in town had been somewhat interesting – she'd at least had her hands full renting the little cabin on the outskirts of town, securing a rental car that had quickly become the bane of her existence so she could better blend with the Muggles, and then she'd walked around, trying to get the lay of the land and do some preliminary research. It was then that she'd realized there was only one decent bar in town, and that it was her misfortune that the first Tuesday of the month was their open-mic night. She'd made it through one stolen comedy act, a poorly done cover of Sweet Caroline, and halfway through a poetry reading before she'd decided the booze wasn't worth it and retreated home for the evening.

On the second day, her suspected werewolf case turned into a confirmed werewolf case after she'd Confunded the Sherriff and gotten her hands on the autopsy reports, crime scene photos, and evidence bags. Realizing she was a week too late to catch the lycanthrope on the lunar cycle that had gotten MACUSA's attention in the first place, and having a better appreciation of what she'd opted into, Lorelai had quickly called Conklin and begged him to let her take another case if she promised to go back to Tullahoma at the end of the month. He'd reminded her that pureblood lycanthropes weren't dependent on the lunar cycle to turn and told her she'd best get to work. There'd been something in his voice that told Lorelai he'd known exactly how much of a dud the case was when he'd given it to her, and hindsight being 20/20, realized it was likely why he'd been so desperate when he'd called in the first place.

So she'd begrudgingly settled in, combing through the police files for anything remotely useful and digging through local records to try and find a lead. After a day and a half, the words on the pages in front of her were starting to swim together, even after she'd swapped out her contacts for glasses, and she'd still gotten nowhere. There'd been a glimmer of hope when she went to pick up lunch and came across a car in the parking lot that looked as though it had blood spattered along the bumper, but the sample she swiped came back as bear blood, and even the pizza she'd found tasted like garbage.

By the time her phone started ringing on Thursday night, Lorelai had talked herself into giving the bar another shot and was hurriedly trying to put the finishing touches on her look for the evening as she searched for the hunk of plastic. She found her wand first, and summoned it, breathing a short-lived sigh of relief as she flipped it open on the fourth ring, bringing an end to the buzzing sound.

"Hello?"

"You're on assignment in Tennessee?" The voice was accusing, and Lorelai silently cursed herself for not checking the caller ID as she glanced towards the clock and pinned the phone between her cheek and shoulder so she could continue pulling the heeled knee-highs over her jeans.

"Nice to hear from you too, Nicky." On the other end of the line she heard an exasperated, defeated sigh.

"You haven't been home in months, Lorelai. Usually I can at least count on you sometime in May, you always come home between the anniversary and your birthday."

"I was just home for Julia's birthday."

"For dinner. I don't think you were even in town a full twelve hours." Gripping the phone in her hand again and straightening back up, Lorelai shrugged, forgetting that no one would be able to see her.

"What do you want me to say? There's a werewolf in Tullahoma and Conklin didn't have anyone else to take it. Aren't you supposed to know this already? You're always so fond of reminding me that you manage my calendar and all of my files."

"No, Conklin didn't have anyone to take it," Nick retorted, ignoring her dig at his being out of the loop, "not anyone else, because you shouldn't have taken it." Lorelai rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to call him a baby. Nick Russo was, if not her best, certainly her oldest friend in the world. They were only three months apart and had been seemingly tied together for the entirety of their lives. It made for a strange relationship, one that others often didn't understand and that they'd struggled with themselves at times, but there were parts of their dynamic that had always been a constant. First and foremost, they always had each other's back, no matter what else may have been going on around or between them. A close second, however, was that Lorelai lived her life unapologetically while Nick tended to worry about everything.

"Relax, dude. I'll be home by the end of the month at the latest, and I'll stay for at least a few days before I take my next case. I promise." There was silence, and Lorelai knew he was debating whether or not it was worth the argument. Part of her felt bad – she knew full well that he only got so worked up because he cared, and he knew it wasn't the easiest time of year on her. The larger part of her, however, found it irritating, wishing he'd let her just ignore it the way she wanted to, and having flashbacks to all the fighting they did towards the end of their ill-fated second and final attempt at dating.

"You realize Katie's probably going to be expecting more than a few days out of you, right?" Lorelai snorted, the corners of her mouth twitching up in a smile.

"Really? You mean twelve-year-old girls don't just take care of themselves?"

"If she's anything like you were at that age –"

"I was an angel." It was Nick's turn to snort.

"You were a menace. In our first year alone, you blew up our Potions classroom, flooded the Charms hall, and nearly got suspended for drawing that cartoon of the Deputy Headmaster."

"They couldn't prove any of that. Anyway, how are things at home?" In the background, she heard the unmistakable sounds of children screaming in the distance, followed by hurried footsteps, leading her to believe that Julia had at least one friend over. From the louder, seemingly closer sounds, Lorelai surmised Nick had called her while he was cooking dinner, and she couldn't help but smile as she heard her friend sigh in exasperation and pull the phone away to yell into the other room to stop running.

"Single fatherhood is exhausting," he complained in answer to her question. A retort was on the tip of her tongue about single motherhood not being any easier – Katie may have been her sister, but Lorelai had been her legal guardian since the younger girl was six – but those early days flashed through her mind and she opted for something more sympathetic, remembering how exhausting it truly had been.

"It gets better."

"Only what, three years before she starts at Lytton?"

"It'll fly by before you know it. Then you'll be wishing she were still eight years old and cursing the fact that she went to school and found a best friend like me." Just then she heard a muffled crash, quickly followed by a muttered damn it from Nick, and the sound of the phone being pulled away again. Smirking, and reveling in the peace on her side of the call, Lorelai cradled the phone between her shoulder and cheek once more as she touched up her mascara in the mirror and waited for Nick to inevitably come back and tell her he needed to go.

Sure enough, not 30 seconds later, he picked the call back up, sounding slightly out of breath, and she could envision the scene as if she were there.

"I've gotta go." Lorelai's smirk turned into a full-blown smile and she was relieved that Nick at least preferred phone calls to Floo calls.

"Shocker."

"You promise you're alright out there?" Lorelai felt her features soften, the smallest inkling of homesickness creeping in on her bubble.

"Always am. Tell my goddaughter I love her." There was another loud noise from Nick's end of the call, and another exasperated sigh.

"Yeah, yeah, just as soon as I'm done tying her down for dinner. Take care of yourself, Lorelai."

"You too," she laughed. The line clicked off and Lorelai was still smiling as she dropped the phone into her bag and headed for the door.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, her eyes caught sight of the rental car she'd picked up upon arriving and felt her face scrunch in disgust of its own accord. The available inventory had been limited, and the tiny toy-like car she'd been stuck with made her miss her car, safely tucked away at Damien and Nat's in Florida. She'd wondered a few times on the trip, however fleetingly, if she should reconsider her policy on not shrinking down the car so it could travel with her and be used as needed.

Quickly, Lorelai looked around and saw that she was indeed alone before reaching discreetly into the bag at her side and gripping the handle of her wand tightly. While she was overall unenthused with the Tullahoma thus far, one perk was that MACUSA had put up for a rather nice, furnished apartment, on the outskirts of town, and Lorelai was quickly coming to appreciate its distance from most of the town's Muggle inhabitants.

Picturing the alleyway behind the bar, Lorelai turned on the spot and appeared there moments later with a small pop, straightening out her clothes and pushing the thin stick deeper into her bag as she made her way around the side to the front entrance. It'd been a bit since she'd really let off any steam and she certainly wasn't planning on killing a well-deserved buzz with a Sober-Up potion to deal with a nuisance as trivial as driving – she would either call a cab or bend the rules and make a Portkey.

The closer she got to the front of the building, the louder the noise from inside got, and as she stepped in, Lorelai was pleased to see that the place was crowded enough she could blend in but not so packed that it would be a nightmare. Even better, there no signs of open mic, trivia, or any other awful group bar activity she could think of. Instead, there was decent music playing in the background, a smattering of tables throughout the floor, two dartboards towards the front left corner, and a pool table fit into the back left. The smell of fried food filled her nostrils and made her mouth water, and the shelves of liquor behind the bar had plenty to offer.

There were a few high tops available that looked mildly appealing, but just as she was about to claim one as her own, Lorelai spotted a couple heading for the door while the bartender cleared their recently vacated spots from the corner of the bar, and so she changed direction. Lorelai caught the bartender's eye as she hopped onto the stool, slinging both her bag and leather jacket over the back of it and inspecting the bottles now in front of her.

"What'll you have?" Gloria, according to her nametag, slapped a napkin in front of her and made sure a menu was in reach. Lorelai smiled, reaching for the it, but already refocusing her sights on the liquor.

"Tito's and cranberry?" she asked, spotting her favorite Muggle vodka not too far down the line.

"Coming right up." The blonde bustled about grabbing ingredients and returned a moment later, putting a napkin down first, the drink on top of it, and sliding the package over. Lorelai happily dropped her plastic credit card, the one Nick had convinced her to get when she'd taken the Auror job two years before, and settled back into the stool, crossing her one leg over the other and reveling in the first sip of her drink. The cool liquid was refreshing, the vodka creating a pleasant burn, and Lorelai tried to let it wash away the past week as it went down.

Being home for the anniversary had been exhausting. Visiting Fred's grave, while it had provided its own type of release, had only taken more of an emotional toll. Nick still offered to go with her every year, be her moral support, but it was a line in the sand she had been careful not to cross since they'd split nearly five years before. She no longer thought he would have minded or gotten confused about what it meant for them – they'd both realized a long time ago they were genuinely happier apart than they'd ever been or would be together, and were far better suited as friends – but every year it rolled around, Lorelai felt a stubborn need to prove to herself that she could do it without backsliding. That she was strong enough to get through it on her own.

Most years she was. This year, however… well this year had been exceptional.

She was about halfway through her drink with thoughts of fries, onion rings, and chicken fingers dancing in her head when the smell of cheap cologne overwhelmed her senses and she heard someone shuffling onto the other corner stool to her left. Lorelai glanced over and was unimpressed to see she'd been joined by a thin man with curly, slicked back hair, an overeager smile, and lecherous eyes. That the beer in his hand was still nearly full, coupled with the way he was regarding her, Lorelai knew it would be foolish to hope he was only there to ask Gloria for another round, and mentally resigned herself to either fending him off or looking for an escape route in the next few minutes.

"How's about I buy you a drink, darlin'?" Lorelai smiled politely at the man, the twang in his voice confirming that he was a local, and tipped her glass to indicate she was covered.

"That's alright, thanks." Hoping he would take the hint, she looked away, picking up the menu again instead.

"Aw come on, that one's almost gone and a pretty girl like you shouldn't be buying her own anyway." Lorelai felt her nostrils flare but took a calming breath, reminding herself that the last thing she needed was a public scene in a crowded bar less than a week after she rolled into town.

"No thanks," she repeated, her voice a little firmer and determinedly scanning the menu, not looking back in his direction. From the side she heard the man huff in annoyance, and for a second, she thought he'd admit defeat… until he put his beer down on the counter with a disproportionate amount of force and moved in even closer.

"Yankee bitch." Lorelai couldn't help but turn her head in surprise, disbelief, she was sure, written all over her face.

"Excuse me?" she asked, a warning in her voice that the man didn't seem to pick up on underlying her incredulity.

"You heard me. What do you, think you're too good for these parts? Least people do 'round here is thank a person when they're paid a compliment." Lorelai felt her eyes narrowing dangerously and flexed her hand, aching to dig into her bag for her wand, or at least to ball it into a fist and break his nose. Not for the first time, she found herself sorely missing the days when she could have subtly pointed or snapped a finger and hit the man with a Stinging Jinx.

"Oh, is that how I was supposed to take it?" she asked in an overly sweet voice. The man seemed to realize he'd failed to intimidate her, based on the way his eyes widened, but before she could continue to lay into him, someone else came up between them and the next thing she knew she was surrounded by a comforting, distantly-familiar presence, a warm arm coming up and encircling her shoulders loosely.

"Hey babe, sorry to keep you waiting. Boss-man wouldn't stop talking my ear off." Lorelai turned her head, shooting a silent thank you to her knight-in-shining-armor. She was mildly surprised to recognize the man she'd nearly plowed into in the parking lot of the pizza place the day before. Dave… Dan… Dean! she finally remembered, mentally cheering that she'd been able to recall it. Their interaction had been memorable, but she'd been on edge that he may have seen her taking the blood sample, and she hadn't anticipated seeing him again. Catching her eye, Dean winked, and Lorelai found herself returning the smile on his face easily. "This guy isn't bothering you, is he?"

"Hey, we were having a private conversation here, buddy." Lorelai watched as the look on Dean's face slid from charming to dangerous in the blink of an eye, his gaze swiveling from her to Leering Man, and his arm still slung around her protectively.

"Actually, I think you were in the middle of calling me a bitch because I wasn't interested in your lousy attempt at a pick-up," Lorelai corrected before taking another sip from her glass, raising her eyebrows coolly in the man's direction and comfortably leaning back into her seat. She noticed Dean's hand twitch as though he were about to make a fist, while her unwelcome admirer glared daggers back in her direction.

"Oh, is that so?" Dean asked, looking from her back to the man with a faux look of surprise on his face. "Seems like a surefire way to bag chicks, dude, really."

"That girl of yours needs to learn her place. Mouth like that –" Her temper flared and Lorelai found her mouth opening of its own accord, a stream of curses and other epithets at the ready. She'd hardly gotten a sound out, however, before Dean's demeanor shifted further and he stepped in closer to the sleaze, subtly positioning himself in front of her as he got in the man's face.

"If by place you mean her right to tell pervs like you she's not interested then I think she's got that down just fine." He pulled something out of his pocket that Lorelai couldn't see and held it up for the man to see, and although Lorelai wasn't able to see what Dean was holding, she was able to watch the color drain from the drunk's face. "Now, I suggest you get as far away from me and my girl as possible, and if you so much as look in her direction again, I'll have you booked for a drunk and disorderly. Got it?"

The man was silently nodding before Dean had even finished speaking, and Lorelai finally got a glimpse of the object that had caused such an about-face when Dean moved to put it back in his pocket – it was a badge of some kind, FBI she thought but wasn't sure. Stowing that information away for later, Lorelai smiled and sipped at her drink happily while the man pushed his unfinished beer to the bar's edge, dropped cash next to it, and hastily made his way towards the door. She waved cheerfully when he looked over his shoulder and caught sight of her and Dean one last time before slipping outside. Dean watched him go, only relaxing when the door shut behind Lorelai's admirer.

"My hero," she said dramatically as Dean straightened up and swung around to stand near the now vacated stool, giving her space. He regarded her amusedly, leaning one arm against the bar and crossing his ankles.

"I don't know about all that. From where I was sitting, looked to me like you were about to deck him." Lorelai smirked.

"Or something like that," she agreed. Dean laughed while Lorelai surreptitiously looked him over. He didn't look like an FBI agent, but then she knew she didn't look like a fed either, for MACUSA or the Muggle government.

Whatever he was, he was a goddamn sight to behold. He was tall, at least 6 foot, broad shouldered, with chiseled features, striking green eyes, and cropped brown hair. The fitted black tee cut his torso well, the blue collared shirt hanging open over it called attention to his well-toned arms. His distressed jeans, biker boots, and the brass pendant hanging from a black cord around his neck gave him an indisputably cool look that reminded her of the vibes Bill Weasley had given off in his Curse Breaker days.

"Figured if I stepped in, I might be able to keep you from getting tied up in a bar fight, make sure you got a chance eat something better than that garbage over at Pete's Pizza yesterday." His deep voice threatened to light something inside of her, but Lorelai ignored it, making a face instead at the reminder of yesterday's lunch.

"Ugh, garbage about summed it up," she agreed, setting her now empty glass back on the counter and leaning forward a bit, elbow resting along the edge of the bar, mirroring his pose.

"I figure that's what I get for trying to order pizza south of the Mason Dixon line." Lorelai let out a snort of laughter and nodded.

"A hundred percent. You from out of town too?" Dean nodded, smiling at her before glancing up to wave the bartender over. Gloria held up a finger and he nodded before turning his attention back to her.

"Yeah, I'm just rolling through on work. How about you…" he started to ask, and she realized he was grasping for a name she hadn't actually given him yesterday in her flustered state. It was an opening – one she could take or leave without consequence. The decision wasn't hard.

"Lorelai," she introduced. "Lorelai Baudelaire." Dean flashed her a heart stopping grin.

"Dean Winchester," he returned. "So, Lorelai also-an-out-of-towner Baudelaire, tell me, what brings you out tonight? Meeting up with some girlfriends, or…" but Lorelai scrunched her features and shook her head quickly.

"God no, I'm only in town for work too. Just wanted to get out for a bit, stretch my legs. Solo trips can get a little boring. How about you?" He shrugged, jerking his head back towards the dartboards and eyeing the bar.

"Pretty much the same. Thought I'd check out some of the local scenes," he said dismissively. Gloria bustled up just then, and catching sight of Lorelai's empty glass, started to clean it up.

"You want another one, sweetie?"

"Yes!" she agreed happily, thoughts of food coming back to the forefront of her mind. "And the appetizer combo? And whatever he wants," she added impulsively, motioning to Dean. He looked back at her surprised.

"No, you don't have to do that. I was just gonna grab a drink and get out of your hair." Lorelai rolled her eyes while Gloria began mixing up the next vodka cranberry.

"Shut up, it's the least I can do. Us out-of-towners have to stick together… unless you don't want to, that's –" but Dean smirked, cutting her off as Gloria put the drink down in front of her and looked to him.

"No, that sounds great, but only if you let me get the next round. Just an El Sol, thanks."

Dean situated himself in the vacant stool, turning himself so he was angled towards her, and Lorelai felt his eyes study her. She couldn't complain though, given that she did the same thing while she sat there and sipped on her second drink. If she had to guess, she'd say he looked to be around her age, which made her wonder more about the badge. She worked regularly enough with Muggle law enforcement agencies, and she was generally the baby amongst them when she did. He held himself confidently and exuded a boyish charm that was more alluring than she cared to admit.

"So, Lorelai… pretty name," he remarked as Gloria placed down the new beer bottle in front of him. He grabbed it easily and continued to assess her as he took his first sip. "Southern?" he asked curiously, lowering the bottle from his lips. Lorelai felt her features scrunch as she had to think about the question until she eventually shrugged and swirled the straw around in her drink.

"Technically I think it's German? But I'm not… German, I mean. Pretty sure it was a family name my mom thought was nice." Dean seemed amused and nodded his head.

"Well, if that's the case, your mom was right."

"Thanks. So, do you travel a lot for work?" she asked, remembering his comment about pizza beneath the Mason Dixon line.

"Oh yeah," Dean told her. "Grew up moving around a lot and I guess the habit just took. I don't stay in one place for too long. How about you?" Lorelai smiled, half a laugh falling from her lips.

"Same, actually. Getting bounced around so much as a kid, I thought I'd really want to put down some roots when I could do that for myself, but it ended up being the opposite. I get so restless when I'm not traveling." Dean laughed, the kind that told her that her words were relatable, and knocked back more of his drink.

"I hear that. How long have you been in Tullahoma?"

"This would be day three. I got here Tuesday. You?" Dean shrugged.

"Been here just under a week. Not much going on, but this place is alright."

"Better than Pete's?" she asked and Dean scoffed.

"I've had convenience store pizza better than Pete's."

Dean, as it turned out, was as enjoyable to talk to as he was to look at. It was interesting, coming across someone that danced around the personal details as much as she did, but even with the deliberately vague answers, a picture and impression of her unexpected companion for the night quickly began to form.

Between their conversation about Pete's and his enthusiasm when the appetizer platter she ordered showed up, Lorelai determined pretty easily that they felt similarly about food – the unhealthier the better. They had a brief debate over which was better – curly or crinkle cut fries – before ultimately agreeing that regardless, cheese fries topped them all. The way his ears seemed to perk up when Fortunate Son hit the stereo, and then again later when Paint It, Black blared out indicated that he at least had acceptable taste in music, and possibly even what she would consider good taste. She also noticed that while he stayed completely engaged with her, he was constantly taking note of their surroundings. It was something she'd learned to do young, and a habit that had only intensified, and then stuck, from the war, and had become a pretty good indicator of when she came across someone else either similarly effected or in the same line of work. It left her curious, but so far their occupations seemed to be something they were mutually avoiding, and Lorelai wasn't about to be the one to say uncle.

Later into the night the pool table opened up and Dean asked if she wanted to play a friendly game, no money involved. She let him rack, and break, and she wasn't at all surprised to see his motions were smooth, practiced, and indicative that he was quite good. It wasn't a popular pastime in the wizarding world, but Lorelai had come to appreciate it for how much time she spent in the Muggle world and on the road solo, and she was rather good herself. However, watching Dean lean over the felt, his arms outstretched and on full display, she had a hard time pushing down her building desire.

"You know, I'm more of a darts girl," she fibbed when he stepped back for her to take her turn, giving him a coy look that he seemed to read correctly. "You wouldn't want to show me how to do that, would you?" Dean grinned and set his own cue down to rest against the wall.

"Sure thing, sweetheart. We'll call this a practice game. Show me how you'd go to shoot it and I'll help you adjust before you actually do."

Lorelai beamed at him and took up her spot at the table, deliberately using bad form and holding the cue wrong. Dean was behind her moments later, pulling her to stand back up straight.

"Alright, alright," he said. "First, let's adjust your hands."

The move may have been immature, but it was effective, and Lorelai was pretty confident Dean wasn't upset about it. He could have stood in front of her and helped adjust her grip if he weren't interested, but he wasted no time in pressing himself up behind her and reaching around to cover her hands with his to move them to the correct positioning. He stayed that way as he helped guide her through her first shot, leaning over the table with her and helping physically guide her through the motion, his breath tickling her neck as they did. It was an action he repeated through her first few turns, and Lorelai made sure to continue to fake her clumsiness throughout the game to keep giving him excuses to touch her, which he took every time. Their flirting definitely kicked up in intensity, and Lorelai felt a heat building in her stomach that had nothing to do with the alcohol she was drinking or the temperature of the room.

Lorelai made sure to believably improve, though, and by the time they finished, Dean agreed she was ready for a real game. He got them another round from the bar and offered to let her break. She thought about continuing the ruse, but glancing at Dean before she bent down, she changed her mind and decided she could send a clearer message another way.

Sly smile playing across her lips, Lorelai steadied herself, and with a swift, controlled motion pulled the stick back, aligned it perfectly with the cue ball, and flicked her wrist. There was a satisfying crack, and the cue ball rocketed forward, scattering the colored balls across the table with precision. They ricocheted off the bumpers, and Lorelai sunk both a striped and solid ball into two separate pockets. Done surveying her work, she straightened back up chanced a glance at Dean. He was watching the table in surprise, but when he felt Lorelai's eyes on him, his gaze shifted to her, and she could see him putting the pieces together.

"You knew how to play, didn't you?" He didn't sound at all upset. If anything, he seemed mildly impressed, but Lorelai sent him an impish smile and shrugged.

"Beginner's luck," she dismissed, stepping back to give him space. Dean grinned and approached the table, taking care to press against her as he passed.

"Well if that's how it's gonna be, Lor, it's on." His breath fanned across her skin again and sent delicious shivers down her spine. There was a playful smile on his face as he sidled up to the table. Lorelai was grateful when his focus shifted to his shot because it suddenly felt like the wind had been knocked out of her.

No one had called her Lor since 1998. She was surprised to find she wasn't upset, and she wasn't sure if it had just been long enough or if it had more to do with the fact that the person who'd used the nickname was someone she was currently salivating over. She didn't need a sober mind to realize that if the sleaze from earlier had tried using it, she'd have hexed him, Statute of Secrecy be damned. It was Dean, though, and Lorelai was surprised to find it only made him more appealing.

"I'll take solids," she called out after him.

It was an extremely close game, but Dean still won in the end, and Lorelai insisted on getting the next round of drinks as her penalty.

"Gloria says it's last call," Lorelai explained, coming back with four drinks instead of two. Dean accepted his two gratefully and clinked his beer against her glass.

"Good thinking, then. Cheers."

Unsurprisingly, Lorelai and Dean were the last ones out of the bar that night, and when they stepped into the parking lot two things happened very quickly. Lorelai, without meaning to, let out an appreciative whistle when she saw the beautiful vintage car sitting in the lot, and Dean found himself frowning when he noticed his car was the only one left.

"You didn't drive here, I'm guessing?" Dean asked.

"Hm? Oh, no, walked it. Is that yours?" she returned distractedly. Most witches and wizards didn't give a fig about cars, but her mother had loved them, and so from a young age, Lorelai had retained a certain level of appreciation. The '67 Impala was a classic, and she was a fan of the black paintjob. Her own car was smaller, which wasn't a problem since she was a witch but likely would have frustrated her otherwise, and was the powder blue her mother had favored.

"Yep!" Dean answered proudly. "'67 Im-"

"Impala, I know. 327 four barrel?"

"Yeah, actually. You know cars?" Lorelai shrugged and finally pulled her eyes away from lot to look back at Dean.

"A little. My mom loved them. I've got her '65 Mustang at home." Dean smiled, something in his expression Lorelai couldn't quite read.

"That's awesome. Where are you staying? I can give you a ride."

A ride was unnecessary, but Lorelai wasn't quite ready to say goodbye, and may have had hopes for a different type of ride, so instead of protesting she smiled back at him and nodded.

"Thanks. I'm in a rental near the edge of town. I can tell you how to get there."

The Impala was a dream, but Lorelai found she was far too distracted by its owner to pay much attention once they were inside. They kept up a steady stream of chatter in-between Lorelai's directions, during which Lorelai gathered that Dean's family business involved restoring old cars and that he was a mechanic. It didn't explain the badge he'd flashed earlier, but Lorelai wasn't concerned at that particular moment about it. When he'd started up the car the cassette he'd been listening to kicked on, and the fact that it was Zeppelin further supported her hypothesis that the guy at least had good taste in music.

It wasn't a far drive, and Dean found the place easily enough, the engine purring to a stop when he puled up in front of the cabin. The air between them crackled with an unspoken tension Lorelai was all too familiar with, and she felt her heartrate picking up.

"Thanks for the ride," she said softly, and she noticed the way Dean's gaze lingered on her lips, "And for the rescue at the bar." Dean smirked, and Lorelai almost questioned whether it was the buzz she had going or her imagination, but she was fairly certain they were both leaning in towards each other.

"All in a day's work," he dismissed, eyes glinting with amusement and tinged with something heavier. "Although I feel like I may have missed out on a show, not letting you deal with it yourself."

Lorelai couldn't help but let a chuckle fall from her lips and bit her bottom lip, nodding slightly.

"You probably did," she agreed.

In the end, if anyone had asked her, Lorelai wouldn't have been able to say who made the first move. What she did know was that when Dean's lips met hers it felt like someone had set off a box of Wildfire Whizbangs in her stomach, and the world seemed to spin around her.

Lorelai's fingers were quick to tangle in Dean's hair while he deepened the kiss, his hands drawing her closer. He was strong, and as solid as he looked, but she was surprised at the gentleness underlying his movements. It was easy to give herself over for a moment, and she found herself grateful for the Impala's bench seat and access it gave them.

They broke apart only when the need for oxygen became too great, both of them breathing heavily. The air still felt charged, and desire flooded Lorelai's system. Based on the glint of fire in Dean's eyes, and the way he was gripping at her thigh, he felt similarly.

"However if that's what intervening got me, I got no regrets." Lorelai smiled, letting her lips brush against Deans again. Dean was eager to deepen it again, but Lorelai pulled back. For a moment he looked concerned, but his features eased quickly when Lorelai playfully slid her left hand down his chest, letting it come to rest at the waistband of his jeans.

"Any chance you'd want to move this inside?" she asked, doubt creeping into her voice for half a second.

"Oh, fuck yes," Dean exhaled, quickly dispelling any concern she might have had, and Lorelai smiled, sliding back towards the car door. Dean was quick to mirror her actions on the drivers side.

There were no pretenses when they entered the cabin. Dean was kicking the door shut behind him and Lorelai was still reaching to drop her keys onto the little table by the entryway when they collided again, mouths meeting in a clash of teeth and tongues, hands groping at each other desperately.

They were quick to move further into the house, Lorelai guiding them immediately towards her bedroom. Dean's jacket was the first article of clothing to go, landing on the floor by her couch when Lorelai pushed it off his broad shoulders. Hers was next, the red leather knocking into a lamp before landing haphazardly on kitchen stool while Dean laid open mouthed kisses down her neck.

Once in the bedroom, Lorelai was tempted to switch on the bedside light, but was quickly distracted by the way Dean trapped her earlobe between his teeth while one of his hands slipped up under her shirt and palmed roughly at her breast. Without meaning to, she let out a moan, and suddenly the ample moonlight coming in from the window was enough for her.

"You know I wasn't expecting anything, right?" Dean asked a moment later when she pulled back and pushed the flannel off his shoulders before going for the t-shirt he had on underneath. Lorelai threw him a skeptical look, smirk on her face.

"I know we don't really know each other, but do I strike you as someone that would feel… obligated?" Dean snorted, helping her get the shirt over his head and letting her toss it aside before pulling her back into his arms. Lorelai felt a whole new wave of desire hit her as she took in the toned torso and strong arms he'd revealed.

"No," he said easily. "Not at all."

In no time, they were both completely de-robed, and Lorelai was almost embarrassed by how turned on she was. She'd been with plenty of guys in her time - the travel made the casual hookups easier than anything else, or at least that's what she told herself - but few had been as mouthwatering as Dean Winchester.

"See something you like?" Dean challenged. Lorelai flushed, realizing she'd been caught. His voice was cocky, though looking at him, Lorelai realized he had a reason to be, and the ache between her legs intensified at the thought of him pounding into her with the impressive erection he was sporting. It wasn't as though he wasn't eyeing her similarly though, and his arousal was equally clear, and that was all the confidence booster Lorelai needed.

"Why don't you come find out," she answered coyly, backing up to the bed. Dean grinned wolfishly and followed after, and in the end they fell back onto the mattress together. His hand wasted little time slipping between her thighs, fingers sliding easily through her slick folds, and Lorelai unsuccessfully tried to bite back a moan. This only served to encourage Dean and he pressed against her eagerly.

"You're fucking soaked, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear, sliding his fingers deeper, teasing and probing, working Lorelai up further and further in anticipation. Lorelai's breath caught again when his tongue brushed against her pulse point, and she slid her own hand down, wrapping it around his cock and pulling a groan from him.

"Seems like a pretty mutual attraction," she pointed out, pumping him. Dean nodded against her, his mouth trailing lower while he brushed a finger over her clit, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her body. His hips bucked into her touch, but the way he maneuvered a moment later put him out of reach.

"You like that?" he asked, his low voice combined with the things he was doing to her body making her head spin.

"Fuck, yes," she said, her voice sounding more like a moan. Her body arched into him and Dean smirked before thrusting two fingers inside her, quickly finding her g-spot and making her eyes roll back. "Fuck, Dean!"

"Shit, you're hot," he commented, pulling back to watch her, but Lorelai found she didn't care in the least. His other hand came up to her chest, cupping and massaging her breasts before he focused in on a nipple, pinching and rolling it between his thumb and finger.

Dean continued playing her body like an instrument, dropping his mouth to her chest to suck on the now hardened peak while his fingers continued fucking her and his thumb rubbed at her clit. He was skilled, and Lorelai felt her orgasm building quickly. Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire, a coil was tightening somewhere deep in her gut, and a combination of expletives, Dean's name, and moans were falling from her lips like a prayer, her voice becoming more and more breathless. Finally the coil snapped and her hips bucked into him, while her cunt clenched around his fingers and she gripped at him hard.

"That's it, baby, come for me," he murmured, never ceasing in his movements, his words and the timber of his voice only stoking the heat she was feeling higher.

When she was finally done shuddering, and his touch went from mind-numbingly pleasurable to painful, she pushed his hand away but quickly pulled him back up, desperately pulling him in for a kiss. Dean responded enthusiastically and allowed her to roll them so he was under her, her thighs falling on either side of him. They broke apart and he held her gaze while he brought his fingers to his mouth, still glistening with her juices, and licked them clean.

He'd hardly pulled them away from his lips when Lorelai was kissing him again, her hands touching every part of him she could reach while Dean did the same. His hands were everywhere - at her waist, tangling in her hair, gripping at her hips, groping at her tits…

Lorelai, for her part, reveled in his muscular form, running her hands over his shoulders, chest, and arms, exploring all the hard lines of his body, while she ground her hips against him, his erection pressed invitingly against her. Soon she broke their kiss in favor of exploring other areas of his body with her mouth, taking her time to see what sounds she could draw out of him - and he didn't disappoint.

"Fuck, Lor," he panted, her hand back to pumping his dick while she laved kisses down his chest. Eventually, Lorelai found herself eye level with his groin, and she wasted no time in taking him into her mouth. Dean gasped as she wrapped her lips around the sensitive head, her tongue swirling around the tip, tasting the salty goodness of him. He moaned in pleasure, thrusting his hips involuntarily towards her face.

Lorelai sucked him gently, her lips moving up and down his shaft, her tongue frequently dipping below the sensitive tip. She loved the taste of him, a salty, musky essence and something much more primal, something unfathomable and alluring. His responsiveness only heightened her arousal.

Dean thrust his hips up, wanting more of her mouth, more of her tongue. Lorelai obliged, taking him as deep as she could, her throat muscles working in a rhythm that made him shudder. She hummed softly around him, the vibrations making him shiver with desire.

As she continued, Dean reached down, his fingers tangling in Lorelai's hair, his thrusts becoming more needy. Lorelai gagged a bit but pushed on, and the sound seemed to stir something in Dean, as he let out a loud groan and seemed to exercise a lot of self-restraint when he bucked again.

"Holy shit, Lor. Shit, shit, shit, just like that baby," he panted. "Your mouth feels so good. Fuck!"

She wanted to finish him off, but she was also desperate to feel him inside her, her cunt already aching again with want, and so when she could tell he was getting close, she regretfully pulled off of him, crawling back up his body and letting him pull her in for another deep kiss.

"I want you," she whispered, a heat in her voice that was all for him. "Please."

Dean's eyes widened, arousal flaring hotter in them. He nodded, rolling her over with a strength that she found incredibly sexy. He positioned her at the edge of the bed, her legs falling open for him, her need for him evident in every part of her body. Meanwhile, Dean scrambled for his discarded jeans, popping back up a moment later with a silver packet between his fingers.

"Fuck, I bet you'll feel amazing," he growled, rolling the condom onto his cock. Lorelai watched, eager for him to get on with it.

She moaned softly, the sound a mix of pleasure and need when Dean positioned himself at her entrance, his fingers guiding him in. He looked into her eyes, his gaze filled with raw passion and something else she couldn't quite discern in her haze. For a fleeting moment, Lorelai wondered why this felt so different, but then Dean thrust into her and all coherent thought stopped.

He bottomed out and her walls clenched around him, wanting to pull him in deeper. They both gasped at the sensation, the connection of their bodies felt like a release of energy that made the room feel brighter, more alive.

"You're so tight, Lor," Dean panted, his voice heavy. "I can feel every inch of you. Holy shit."

Lorelai bit her lip, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the feeling of him inside her, and she nodded. He was stretching her in the most delicious way, and she needed more. "Ugh, you feel so fucking good."

As he began to thrust, Lorelai felt the weight of his body pressing against her, the rhythm of his movements becoming more insistent. She clawed at his back, her nails digging into his skin. It was like electricity coursing between them, and she could feel his cock throbbing inside her, pulsing with each deep thrust.

Dean's breath hitched, his eyes opening wide as he stared down at her, his expression a mix of wonder and awe. "You're taking me so good," he groaned, his hips moving faster, his body aflame with need. Lorelai could tell he was close, having already been on the brink before, and she shifted to try and create more friction for herself. As if reading her mind, Dean reached between them and easily found her clit, rubbing at it expertly so that in moments she was just as close to release as he was.

"Dean," she whimpered, begging for what she didn't know, and Dean kept going, his breathing becoming more labored by the moment, this thrusts more erratic as he fucked her into the bed.

"Lor, oh fuck, I'm so close baby. Are you gonna come for me again? Need to feel you come on my cock." Lorelai let out an obscene noise, and Dean picked up the pace with his fingers, sending her into a tailspin.

"Oh! Fuck, Dean!" she cried out, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist to pull him in closer. He smirked and started going harder, his green eyes blown wide in lust.

"That's it, Lor! Oh, fuck, I'm gonna -" And he was falling over the edge with her, his head falling against her while he somehow managed to go both faster and harder, her cunt milking him for everything he was worth while she saw stars herself. Dean captured her in one last deep kiss, their tongues rolling against each other, the kiss itself slowing as they each came down from their high.

Eventually they both stilled, Dean hovering over her for a minute, both of them breathing hard. Then with one last, much softer kiss, Dean pulled out and rolled off her, collapsing onto the bed himself. The smell of sex hung in the air, a serene stillness settling over the room while they laid there. Lorelai felt her body still humming with lingering pleasure. It wasn't how she'd intended to blow off steam at the beginning of the night, but this had been better.

"That was…"

"Good," she agreed, hoping she'd read the situation right. Dean's nod told her she had.

"Awesome," he tagged on, still sounding out of breath. In her peripheral, she noticed him tying the condom off, hardly having to shift in order to toss it into the wastebasket by the head of the bed. "I can't remember the last time I had it that good," he admitted.

"Pick up chicks at bars a lot?" she asked. Dean shifted uncomfortably, and Lorelai bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

"What? Uh, I wouldn't say - "

"Dude, I'm on the road all the time, it's okay. I get it. If I didn't hookup, I'd never get laid." Dean looked at her incredulously before a grin split across his face when he realized she was being completely serious.

"Who said the perfect woman didn't exist?" he laughed, slipping an arm under her and pulling her against him. They were both still sweaty, but Lorelai didn't care and laughed with him, her arm slipping around his waist while her head fell against his chest.

"Twelve hours ago you didn't even know me. For all you know, I could be a crazy axe murder." Dean snorted, unperturbed.

"Doubtful. I've got a sixth sense for that kind of thing." It was Lorelai's turn to scoff, but she opted not to say anything, instead just basking in the afterglow. Her fingers mindlessly traced over his pecs while his ghosted over her shoulder. "I can get out of here, if you want. Don't want to overstay my welcome."

"Hmm, certainly not gonna keep you here but you don't need to go. I don't know about you, but I could go for a second round later." She didn't bother to look up to see his reaction, but based on the kiss he placed to the top of her head she guessed he was pleased.

"Oh sweetheart, I could definitely go for a round two."

Lorelai smiled and after a few more minutes they moved under the covers, though Lorelai found herself slotting herself back against his side instinctively as they settled back in. Exhaustion started to take hold, and it wasn't long before both of them were drifting off. Lorelai's last thoughts were that maybe Tullahoma wouldn't be quite so dull as she thought.