Chapter Text
‘Dean.’
‘Yeah?’ he turns his head to find her green eyes examining him like she’s looking for something specific.
‘How would you feel about having sex with me?’
He splutters on his drink, wipes his chin on his sleeve, eyes shooting to Sam at the bar and back to her.
‘I’m sorry I...think I misheard what you...’
‘No you didn’t.’ she says totally calm, straight faced.
‘Uh...I’m not sure I get the...are you joking?’
‘No. You’re interesting, you’re funny and I’m sure, given the chance, you could be a really good boy.’
Her voice falls to a half purr, half growl. Her fingers smooth across his wrist. Something fleeting flashes in her eyes that stirs his stomach in a way he doesn’t have a name for, makes him drop his eyes to his lap, the heat of confused embarrassment running up the side of his neck. When he looks again she’s gazing back out across the room, her face impassive and he swallows, trying to find words.
‘You can think about it.’ she throws out like a lifeline to his floundering thoughts. ‘Let me know. I’m not going anywhere right now.’
A loud group falls through the door, sudden and uncontrolled, and she leans forward slightly, her sleeve brushes against his chest as she reaches across him for one of the bottles Sam has placed on the table. For an absurd moment he thinks she’s shielding him. Like the way someone driving might throw their arm over a passenger’s body as they slam on the brakes. For a second, even more absurd moment he thinks it’s touching, leans back in the seat and lets himself believe that’s exactly what she’s doing just for the novelty of someone doing that for him for a change. By the third moment he’s shaken it off, straightened up to put their chests level, stretched past her questing hand to snatch the bottle and hand it to her waiting fingers which earns him another look he doesn’t have a single clue how to interpret, approval maybe? Amusement? The tiniest flicker of a smile pulls at the very edge of her lips but she grips the drink without comment, settles back into the booth and is apparently unaware of the numerous looks he sneaks at her profile for the next hour or so.
When Sam yawns and stretches he hastily suggests they head back to the motel then smirks at his brother’s raised eyebrow when he keeps on walking past their door. Making some comment about manners costing nothing he continues on down the row of identical entrances, escorting her to her room despite the fact she walks a little ahead, apparently not in the least bit bothered either way. Even when they reach her door she unlocks it without a single glance at him.
‘Wait!’ he says quickly, before she can walk inside, ‘About...uh, about what you said earlier...’
She turns on her heel smoothly, finally looking him directly in the face and he has no fucking idea how he’s ended up against the wall with her hands on his chest, one of her knees between his, her thigh pressed up on his junk, warmth seeping right through his jeans where her pussy rests on his own leg. Her lips ghost along the line of his jaw and his mind trips off somewhere for a second before he has to mentally sprint to catch up with it.
‘Um...yes?
'That doesn’t really answer my question. Maybe you should think about it a little more.’ she decides on a breath into his neck and she’s gone in a blink, the door clicking closed, leaving him leaning up on the wooden boards with his head spinning slightly.
What the fuck?
‘You strike out?’ Sam scoffs, ‘What were you thinking? As if.’
‘I wasn’t doing anything just walking her.’ he defends himself. ‘There’s some kinda monster in this town you know.’
‘Well yeah, so maybe we should concentrate on that?’ Sam suggests, ‘Instead of whatever crazy is going on in your head.’
‘There’s no crazy. She’s the one who said...’
‘Said what?’ Sam asks, obviously curious when he cuts himself off.
‘Nothin’ forget it. Let’s get some sleep. Busy day of boring research tomorrow.’
He stares at the dark ceiling for a while, one knee bent, hand smoothing over the spot on his thigh where she’d felt so goddamn warm. Does he wanna fuck her? Hell yes! And not just cos she is fucking hot with that lean, tight Hunter’s body but also for the bragging rights. That he, Dean Winchester melted the Ice Queen. Of course they’re friends so he wouldn’t be crass about it, wouldn’t dream of describing how she’d shaken apart underneath him while he rocked her fucking world. But the next time anyone commented on her cool, domineering attitude he could, maybe just twitch an eyebrow. Say something vague like Not Always and leave the rest to their imagination. He’d be a legend. Even more so than he already is.
How would he feel about it though? Awesome. Obviously. Why the question even? From this angle it's starting to look suspiciously like a trap. But she said she wasn't joking and it's not like she has a reputation as a prankster. Too strict, too serious.
Nope, too complicated. Perhaps it'd be better to just forget it, laugh it off and never mention it again. Which would be a whole lot easier if he could stop thinking about just how fucking good she smelt when she was pressed up against him.
Ah hell! It's been too long since he got some and his imagination is just kicking him in the libido. He rolls quickly and punches his pillow into submission earning an annoyed sounding grunt from the sleeping Sam before he flops back down on his side, determined not to lose a night's sleep being a horny idiot.