Dianna Wickham, you WERE reviewer 900 no matter how many ways I count it, silly. :-) Sure you don't have any request ideas besides Wally? She might not get to come back until next arc, but she will be in that one for SURE.

Arc 8: Demons, Part 1: The "D" Word

"Dean, are you sure you're okay?"

"Do the words 'I'm fine' really have no meaning anymore for you and Sam?"

"When they come from you? Yes."

Dean stopped their constant pace to smack Sasha in the arm. "Hey. It is possible for me to say those words and mean them you know. So I'm a little…antsy. This isn't exactly my scene," Dean admitted, eyeing their bustling surroundings warily, "But at least here we get some options so we can get it all done in one hit."

There was a bemused expression on Sasha's face that Dean was fairly certain he should be pissed off about. "Dean, we're at a shopping center in Denver. A mall. I think saying this isn't exactly your scene is a vast understatement. I mean, I'm not really into the crazy urban lifestyle either but once in a while, I don't know, I like a good throng of people around me."

"You can make an afternoon snack out of emotions. Of course you like throngs of people," Dean grumbled, shifting a little in place. He didn't mind tight spaces. It was open spaces with people constantly rushing about him that made him nervous, just like heights and that awful free-falling feeling. Dean just wasn't used to this sort of thing. A crowded bar was way different than a crowded mall. He wasn't even armed because Sasha had insisted that brining weapons would be a bad idea.

"You're the one who suggested this, remember?" Sasha pointed out.

That was true and Dean had done so with good reason. After making sure Iain was safe and insisting that the young librarian keep the extra anti-possession charm just in case, Dean had pleaded for just one more day's rest in Denver before they returned to fighting the good fight.

No one had argued with him.

"That's coz you need a new jacket and some new shirts after the majority of your wardrobe has been destroyed lately," Dean replied, kind of wanting to move again so he wouldn't feel quite so surrounded by the shoppers of Cherry Creek Mall, "Besides, gives us an excuse to leave Sam and Sarah alone. Jo got the hint and tagged along with Bobby for supply shopping. And we all need the break. My chest is still killing me anyway," Dean said as more of an afterthought, wanting to rub but knowing he shouldn't at the itching bit of gauze-covered skin over his heart. Hitting a tattoo parlor the other day had been a first priority after Dean finally gave into the idea.

Sasha must have been able to sense Dean's discomfort of standing in the walkway because he discreetly pushed on Dean's lower back to get them moving forward again. The incubus' tattoo had already healed over. Lucky bastard. "Then let's get in a store and out of the line of traffic," Sasha smirked, "There's gotta be an American Eagle around here somewhere. You could use some new jeans too."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean broke in even though this time he kept his forward momentum going, "This is shopping for you, not me. I'm fine. These jeans have lasted me plenty long."

A scrutinizing blue gaze swept down Dean's body. "Yeah. I can tell," Sasha rolled his eyes, "Dean, those are the only pair of jeans you have that aren't stained out of recognition or barely holding on by threads from falling off at the knees, and they're still full of holes. If you think you get to dress me then I get to return the favor."

Of course it was right then that a group of teenager girls was passing by close enough to have heard that. They giggled as they hurried on and Dean held back a groan. "Baby," Dean whispered, "Could you keep that kind of talk down a notch. It's gay enough we're shopping together."

Sasha huffed. "At least you're not with Sam for a change. Way I hear it you get the same reaction either way. Now come on, there's an American Eagle right over there. Probably as cheap as we'll be able to find in this mall. Quality will be good though."

Dean nodded and continued towards the store with Sasha. He didn't mind American Eagle. He resented that Sasha had teased him about buying all of his clothing at Fleet Farm. It wasn't that he never shopped there, of course, but usually Dean's clothes came from wherever they happened to be when shirts and pants started wearing out. He didn't usually give his wardrobe much thought. He knew Sasha was mostly the same, but there was definitely a tad more style to how Sasha wore his clothes than either Winchester.

As they were nearing the American Eagle, they passed by a store that looked more like a club entrance. There were shutters covering up most of the front so you couldn't see inside and the entrance only displayed a large poster of some smoldering looking male model who didn't appear to be wearing anything.

"What's even in that place?" Dean nudged Sasha with his elbow, "Coz if I'm going off of advertizing I'd have to guess naked guys."

A raised eyebrow was Dean's response before Sasha turned his head and looked at the store they were passing. Dean thought maybe the incubus looked sick for a minute and then Sasha was coughing and pulling on Dean's arm to move past the store faster. "I think even walking buy one of those stores shortens your life by two minutes," he coughed again.

Dean was right there with him too; smelled like someone had spilled an entire bottle of men's cologne all over the carpet in there or something. "If we find a few shirts for you then…fine I'll try on some jeans. Your aunt's buying right?" Dean grinned.

A credit card was suddenly wagging in Dean's face. Sasha's smirk appeared behind it. "The only legit card I have, and only for use of clothes when I finally 'clean up a little.' says Shi. She already extended use to you and Sam, if that tells you anything," Sasha chuckled.

Looking down at his, okay, slightly holey jeans, rather old and worn boots, and a T-shirt Dean had probably had since he stopped growing as a teenager, Dean could admit that he wasn't exactly 'cleaned up' to miss high class succubus' standards. But it only added to his rugged hometown charm. The leather, for example, would always be a staple, like the Impala—classic and irreplaceable.

To be fair though Dean probably could use a new pair of jeans or two so he decided not to complain. They were shopping with real money for a change, even if Sasha's aunt was footing the bill.

One thing Dean was insistent on while they shopped was that he did not want them acting like chicks, helping each other pick things out and shit like that. If Dean passed a shirt he thought Sasha would like or would look good in then he would grab it and discreetly chuck it at Sasha the next time they saw each other. Same went for Sasha finding any jeans for Dean. They did end up at the dressing rooms about the same time though, to which Dean gave Sasha a funny look for needing to try on shirts. Jeans were one thing but shirts you just grabbed, bought, and dealt with.

It was the last straw when Sasha tried sneaking into Dean's dressing room with him. "Dude," Dean held up a hand and blocked the entrance, "What are you doing?"

Sasha blinked innocence that Dean wasn't buying for a second. "I just wanted to help see how they fit. And get your opinion on these," he said, holding up his armful of shirts.

"See, that is just the kind of chick thing I want nothing to do with. If they fit, I'll get them. If they don't, I'll put them back. Same for you. This isn't rocket science."

"Dean," Sasha said in a familiar chastising tone as he pushed on Dean's chest—thankfully sticking to the side without a healing tattoo—to knock Dean back into the dressing room and follow after him, "It'll go faster this way. And I want to see how they look on you. Don't be a baby."

There were other people in this store; someone had to have seen Sasha shuffle in after Dean. Recognizing that and being bothered by it wasn't Dean being a baby; it was being conscientious of social norms, god damn it. "Sasha, people do not share dressing rooms," Dean hissed as Sasha closed the door behind them, "It's like against the shop-lifting code or something."

"You're just worried they'll think we're making out," Sasha shook his head, already tossing his jacket—well, the non-leather jacket of Dean's he had borrowed—aside and pulling his white T-shirt over his head.

At this point Dean knew there was no point in arguing and decided that going fast and getting this over with would be better than furthering the fight. He still had to grumble, "Yeah, well, you're just wishing we were making out," before he turned away from Sasha and started undoing his jeans. There was some light chuckling in response but Dean ignored it.

He had three pairs of jeans, one of which Sasha had picked out, and he only planned to buy two total. He really didn't want to have to go back out or hit any other stores if they didn't have to, so Dean prayed the ones he had would work. He silently cursed when the first pair turned out to be too big. The second pair, however, was perfect, very much like most of his old pairs actually and pretty damn comfortable for being new. That only left Sasha's pair and Dean could already tell that something seemed off before he even started pulling them on.

"Dude, what size do you think I am?" he exclaimed, sliding denim over his hips that could only be described as pornographically tight.

"Those are your size, Dean, they're just a different style," Sasha answered.

Dean turned without bothering to button and zip the ill-fitting jeans to see that Sasha was facing him with one of his new shirts stretching too tightly across his chest. There were a couple shirts on the floor that Sasha must have deemed unworthy of bothering Dean over. The one he was wearing though looked good. It was a deep burgundy color that amazingly didn't clash with Sasha's red hair and had the outline of an eagle in black. Sasha had mentioned unsurprisingly to Dean that he didn't buy clothing with the brands prominently displayed because he thought it was tacky. Dean usually just didn't buy clothing from brand names. The eagle was a nice compromise.

"How's this one?" Sasha asked, looking down at himself and then up at Dean again, "I need some good staples. Some of my best shirts have been torn up since I met you Winchesters." He waggled an eyebrow playfully.

It was then that Dean realized that being in a dressing room alone together was an even worse idea than he first thought. They were both surrounded by discarded clothing, their jackets tossed into corners, Sasha was looking way too damn good, and Dean's jeans weren't even buttoned. It filled his head with way too many improper thoughts for a public venue.

Then Sasha was laughing. "I'll take the drooling to mean this one's a keeper. Will you at least do those up before you decide you hate them?" Sasha crossed the space between the two of them and went straight for Dean's waistline.

Once Dean came back to his senses, he immediately swatted Sasha's hands away and did the jeans up himself. "Seriously, babe, dressing me does not mean physically." Dean could feel that the jeans technically fit, they weren't pinching him or constricting too much where it mattered, but his ass felt suctioned in like the damn things were made of leather and when Dean looked beyond Sasha into the mirror that thought of 'pornographically tight' struck him again.

An appreciative hum sounded from Sasha. "You're getting those," he said.

"Only if I never go out in public in them," Dean grumbled.

"I'm okay with that."

"Sasha," Dean all but laughed, but he cut off mid-chuckle upon noticing that the incubus was no longer admiring from an acceptable distance, "Hey now…" he started warningly, holding up his hands to keep Sasha back, "What do you think you're doing?"

Damn that incubus strength, Dean thought, as Sasha's arms wrapped easily around him and pulled their bodies close. "Hmm," Sasha hummed thoughtfully, "Maybe I'm seeing how much we can get away with before they kick us out of the mall."

Dean swallowed. "And you wonder why I worry people might think we're making out in here," he said in an angry whisper. Well, mostly angry. In actuality his voice might also be a little ragged and roughened for other reasons, like how much more constricting the damn jeans were starting to feel. "Come on now. This is not an excuse to get frisky. Not that I'm not thrilled you're back to your highly inappropriate self and all, but—"

"My highly inappropriate self?" Sasha laughed, just holding Dean but the way they fit together like jigsaw pieces made that more than enough to make Dean's breath hitch, "Yeah, coz you always behave. I'm just stealing a kiss," Sasha insisted.

That was usually all it took to get them into trouble, but Dean couldn't resist when Sasha looked and felt so good. Besides, some well deserved alone-time hadn't only been planned for Sam and Sarah. "The jeans are too tight," Dean said, pulling in close enough to breathe on Sasha's lips.

"Oh? Let me check."

Sasha bridged the meager gap between their mouths and pulled Dean's bottom lip in with his tongue, sucking gently before turning the gesture into a full kiss. As he did that and Dean sank easily into the liplock, Sasha's hands started sliding up under Dean's shirt and sought out the top line of those jeans. He found it, teased the sensitive skin between the fabrics for a moment, and then fit his hands smoothly inside the jeans down the length of Dean's tight ass.

His large hands squeezed possessively, forcing a whimper to break their kiss. "Feels like they fit fine to me," Sasha whispered.

It was almost as if the past week never happened—the cave, Meg, their new list of injuries and insecurities. Not that any of them were really all that hurt. Aside from some lingering bruising Dean was fine. Even his wrists were mostly healed and no longer needed to be bandaged. The worst pain he was in was the slight ache and itch of the tattoo that he, Sam, Sasha, and, as it turned out, the girls had all gotten the day before. Bobby had opted out saying he'd stick to his tried and true charms regardless of a more permanent solution.

But as much as Dean reveled in a return to the normalcy he loved, this was a little too dangerous as far as hidden PDAs went. He grunted out of their second kiss, pushed at Sasha lightly on his chest and took a slow breath.

"Bad incubus," he teased in a hushed voice, "No public places. At least none that might have cameras," he amended. He pushed on Sasha's chest again, the incubus complying but smiling wide like he had won anyway. "You get that shirt, I'll get the jeans. Deal? Now let's hurry up in here. I'm starving." Dean turned away quickly to change, needing to steady his pulse and ensure he didn't get a full-blown hard-on in the dressing rooms of a crowded store.

Sasha looked annoyingly pleased with himself while trying on the last of his shirts, one of which was a plain bright royal blue that Dean insisted Sasha buy along with the other one. Dean might have praised the benefits of sharing a dressing room after that if not for the stern-looking older store clerk who glared at them when they came out of it together.

Dean nodded at her with a polite, "Ma'am," trying so hard not to turn beat red or start giggling. She didn't chastise them though, just shook her head and said something about how they should know better at their age. Dean and Sasha made quick work of claiming their purchases afterwards.

As soon as they were out of the store Sasha burst into laughter.

"And Sammy says I'm the bad influence," Dean smirked, "Can't stop for lunch yet though. You still need a jacket. Any good leather places in here?"

Coming down from his chuckling, Sasha suddenly scowled. "Seems kind of a waste the way I go through them," he said, "Maybe I should just get something more practical."

That was a big no. Dean liked his baby in leather. Both of them. "Your aunt wants you looking good, right? So don't worry about cost. We'll find you something slick and make damn sure there are no accidental glamour losses any time in the near future. How's that?"

"This is a fairly upscale mall, Dean," Sasha dissented, even though he was following right along with Dean instead of stopping him, "Remember how fast you ran out of Diesel when you saw their jeans were 200 bucks?"

Dean grimaced. That was just plain ridiculous. Most of the time he didn't even like spending 50 bucks on jeans. "Leather's different. Hey, if there was a cheaper place, I'd be all for it. As it stands we can still get a nice one that isn't out of the park price wise. You need it. Let's check in here." Dean pointed up at the Guess store that they had also bypassed earlier because of the usually over 100 price tag for jeans. There were a few coats in the windows and Dean had a feeling there had to be some nice leather in there somewhere.

As Dean was asking so nicely and all, Sasha conceded and went in with him. It took Dean all of ten seconds to bee-line for a black high-collared leather jacket on a rack that both resembled Sasha's other ones and was also something new, with a few extra zippers and buckled that Dean knew would look hot on the whole package. As soon as Sasha slipped it on over his T-shirt there was no more room for arguing. Dean basked in their efficiency and made sure that Sasha wore the jacket out of the store instead of that borrowed one of his.

Sasha's other jackets had always been dark brown but Dean liked the incubus in black. It made his other coloring appear that much more striking. "So, food," Dean said as they headed off again, "Then…maybe a flick or something? We got plenty of time. I checked and there's some zombie fake documentary thing I figured your geekiness would appreciate." Dean chuckled to himself. It still amazed him sometimes that Sasha was a horror movie fanatic.

Preparing to round the next corner towards the food court, Dean suddenly realized that his partner was no longer at his side. He stopped, looked back with a furrowed brow and saw that Sasha was standing in the walkway staring at him. The incubus looked at the bags in his hands, then at his newly acquired leather and said, "This is a date," more like a realization than a question.

Given their current distance of a few feet, those words had left Sasha a little too loudly for Dean's liking. He crossed back to the incubus quickly. "Hey, I don't think the little old lady in Macy's over there heard you," he grumbled, "What are you talking about, date?"

"You're trying to hide it, be all macho 'don't act like a chick', but you've been doting on me all day," Sasha grinned, "Shopping to dress me up, giving in and buying those jeans I liked on you, and now lunch and a movie. This is a date. This is you taking me out on the town, Mr. Winchester. Admit it. You're trying to seduce me," he finished with a crooked smirk.

Nothing could have stopped the chuckle that escaped Dean then, much as he soon coughed his way out of it. "Fine, fine, okay," Dean admitted all hushed like he had been in the dressing room and getting as close to Sasha as he dared without it seeming intimate to passerbys, "It's…a date. And I don't, ya know…do dates. So you should…be grateful or something. With all the shit going down lately and…well all Hell breaking loose more or less, I figured we deserved it. Us, alone. Normal kinda…couple stuff. Or something." Damn, Dean was feeling hot suddenly.

The smirk on Sasha's face stretched to a full beaming smile and he—thankfully—moved on past Dean to continue walking. "You know I would have every right to be pissed that you're treating me like the girl," Sasha said when Dean fell into step beside him again, "But it's kinda cute. And I did pay for all the clothes, so…you're kinda the girl too, ya know."

"You're fucking hilarious," Dean grumbled, "Your aunt paid for the clothes. And don't make me cover lunch and the movie just to prove your ass wrong, sugar-muffin. The thing about you and me is there aint't a girl, not any way you might think of it. And that's just how I want things to stay." Dean smirked a little sideways at Sasha, meaning his observation on several levels—Meg included. There was no room for a 'girl' in their relationship.

"So," Sasha smirked right back, eyeing the various options for lunch as they entered the food court, "Zombie movie?"

After the movie, which Dean had to admit was entertaining for modern commentary and zombie obsession, it was late afternoon and he and Sasha decided they should probably check back in with everyone and bring their things back to the motel. They were staying at a pretty centrally located Motel 6, and it was probably the nicest Motel 6 Dean had ever stayed at considering you could still get by for 40 bucks a night. Sasha, of course, assumed that heading back meant their 'date' was over. Dean was fine with the incubus thinking that way too. The night would be much more fun as a surprise.

The group had three rooms total: one Sam and Bobby were sharing, one for the girls, and one for Sasha and Dean. Sam and Bobby's room had become the gathering spot this time, so after dropping off their bags in their own room, Sasha and Dean headed there. Dean had an extra key but he still knocked before going in.

No acknowledgement greeted them before Dean began to turn the knob but he soon saw why. Sam and Sarah were sitting on the edge of one of the beds turned in towards each other. They weren't in any compromising position or anything, just a…well…an odd one. Their eyes were closed and Sam had his hands on either side of Sarah's head.

"Yo. Kids," Dean called as he and Sasha entered fully, "This isn't Demolition Man. I'm sure you could be having much more entertaining non-virtual fun if you just tried a little harder." He smirked to himself as Sam and Sarah's eyes snapped open and Sam immediately pulled back, looking embarrassed.

There was a jab at Dean's side as Sasha passed him to sit at the table, but Dean had definitely seen a smile on the redhead's face when he went by.

Meanwhile, although Sarah merely gave Dean an amused look, Sam was busy sputtering explanations.

"Very funny, Dean. It wasn't…anything like that. Sarah was just…I mean, I asked her if I could, errr…she…we…she was just letting me test something on her," Sam finally got out, which of course didn't sound dirty at all.

"Hey, man," Dean grinned, moving to join Sasha at the table, "What you do in the privacy of your own room…"

"Sam wanted to test how deeply he could read a person's mind," Sarah explained before Sam could burst a vein at Dean's antics, "Whether just on the surface or further back, maybe even into the subconscious. We were seeing if he could look into the past two years of mine that he…missed." She flashed Sam a subtle smile.

Maybe what Sasha and Dean walked in on was a little bit intimate after all. "So…how'd that work out?" Sasha asked carefully.

Sam looked back at Sarah, the same subtle smile tugging at his lips too. "It didn't work at first. Sort of a jumble. Too much at once. I'd only ever caught flashes of immediate thoughts before. Besides the cave, anyway. I'd never tried purposely to go deeper. Not even really that time with you, Dean," Sam said, looking to Dean briefly before turning back to Sarah, "But I slowed down, focused. She helped by trying to show me things, project to me, you know? Then after awhile I could just…look." Sam paused for too long, just staring at Sarah as she was staring at him. Then suddenly he seemed to come back to himself and cleared his throat awkwardly. "You know, just…trying to stay on top of things—in control of things," he revised quickly.

That would have been too easy of an in for Dean anyway. "Good. I guess," he said, pleased at the building undercurrent between Sam and Sarah but wary as he always would be of Sam powering up.

Still, Dean liked to think that the more Sam learned to control his powers, the better off they would be, even if Sam giving in too much to his abilities scared Dean sometimes more than he could say. He still hadn't figured out what Malak could have possibly meant about an important thing Meg had said to him. Something subtle but that could also explain everything somehow? Maybe it was just a wild goose chase to drive Dean crazy. They were so close now. They had a course and a plan. Dean actually believed he could be saved. So it really annoyed him that he didn't really feel like celebrating most of the time.

Before Sam could frown any deeper or say anything in regards to Dean's apathetic response, Bobby and Jo suddenly joined them, having returned as well. They brought in their shopping spoils for everyone, including ammo and various other supplies they would need for their soon to be embarked upon task of ridding the world of some hundred or so demons in about a month.

Their arrival broke up what might have turned into a tense situation, and as they all fell into easy conversation, Dean started to forget about worries for the time being.

Bobby gave Jo a stern look once they had unloaded everything and said, "Now, darling, you know your mother is going to want to be in on all this. Best you give that woman a call once we're passing through. I know she's busy with the Roadhouse, but I think our cause is just a little more pressing than hunter lodgings at the moment. She called me not long ago to talk about all this, and…well, you boys better know. We're with ya." Bobby nodded to Sam and Dean, a little too fatalistic for Dean's liking.

They might not really need Ellen's help, or all of the help they currently had. Dean certainly doubted he would ever have to call on the sex squad for further back up. It seemed that with Sam's extended powers, the rest of them would mostly feel like bystanders anyway.

"Sam, why don't you go over that route you've got planned," Bobby continued, settling himself at the table where Sasha and Dean still sat and Jo moved to join them too, "We want to be hitting the road first thing tomorrow, I'm thinking."

"Yes," Sam agreed, approaching the table with Sarah beside him. She stood near Dean's chair while Sam positioned his laptop so everyone could see it, "The Midwest is pretty clean at this point, not more than maybe some minor demon activity back in Minnesota. We can save that til last, head north for now and work our way over and down the west coast." Sam followed his finger along a line he had made on a US map as he spoke. "Then through the south, heading into the mid-states only when we need to. We can grab Ellen then. On through to the east coast, up, and back around to Minnesota. That covers all the points I can sense demon activity."

"And we'll stop in Pittsburg on the way through," Dean added matter-of-factly.

Sam stopped his little presentation to stare at Dean uncomprehending. "Why would we stop in Pittsburgh? We should continue on. This is going to take enough time as it is," Sam said.

"We're stopping in Pittsburgh because we made a promise, remember?" Dean replied, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he leaned back in his chair, "Leven's show is the end of April. We promised we'd go. Now since I intend on keeping that promise we're gonna have to make sure we get that far in time. Gives us some motivation."

Jo snorted, "Coz saving your ass isn't motivating at all."

"Dean, I'm sure Leven would understand if he knew—" Sam tried.

"No way I'm going back on my promise to that kid. And we all promised. Well, us three did," he said, indicating himself, Sam, and Sasha, "I won't subject the rest of you to a high school musical unless you feel like tagging alone, but we promised we'd go, so we're going. Down to the wire or not by then, we can take one night off to blow through Pittsburgh."

Unlike Sam, Sasha looked perfectly content with this suggestion. "Guess we're going to have to hurry then if we're getting all the way through this route of Sam's in just a few weeks," the incubus smiled, "That'll only leave Minnesota really. We'll probably need the break."

Dean felt Sasha's sneakered foot toe him in the ankle then and he had to smile. Sam eventually and grudgingly accepted that he had been outvoted, and although the girls had only briefly heard about the adventures with Evelyn and Wade Taylor in Pittsburgh they didn't bother dissenting either.

Only Bobby eyed the others at the table for a minute before finally grunting to get their attention.

"Now either my hearing's starting to go or did you really just say 'high school musical'?"

A quick round of laughs and explanations later with Bobby looking all bemused and shaking his head at them, the group was back on track and had decided where they would be headed in the morning. Bobby had purposely brought along a junker he didn't mind leaving behind so they could take two cars instead of three. It would be weird having Bobby in the Impala. Dean wasn't sure why. Maybe because it was sort of like having your dad in the car and 'Dad' was always supposed to drive.

Since they had the rest of the night off really and any errands or planning they could do before they arrived at their destination were already taken care of, the group headed out as one large mass to grab dinner at the nearest cheap place to eat. Later, seeing as how they were all recovering yet from late nights and sore bodies, it wasn't hard at all to excuse himself and Sasha to go back and rest in their own room fairly early.

What was even easier was how Dean casually mentioned that he had forgotten something in the Impala and then headed off to retrieve it after promising, of course, that he would return right away. Anyone who thought Dean Winchester was without a romantic streak didn't know him at all.

Dean arrived back at their door in under ten minutes. Knocked. Waited for Sasha to answer. And then just stood, hands in his pockets—in his tight new jeans' pockets—grinning coyly. "Now, baby," he said in response to Sasha's gaping expression after opening the door, "You can't expect me to take you out looking like that." Considering Dean was in his new jeans, the white button-down—untucked—he usually wore with his alias suits, the nicer shoes he also usually wore for aliases, and all brought together with his trademark leather jacket, Dean looked pretty damn good compared to Sasha's bare feet, dirty jeans and old T-shirt.

The incubus gaped a minute or two longer before breaking into a wide grin and turning immediately on his heels in search of suitable clothing. "Five minutes!" Sasha called as he began to scrounge.

Dean waited just inside the door, watching Sasha change hurriedly into nicer jeans, his new burgundy T-shirt with the eagle, and his new black leather jacket. Since Sasha always looked gorgeous the slick clothes were only a mild improvement but it was enough to make Dean bite his lip and think for a minute that he might rather stay in tonight. But no, he had plans for their last free night in, well, maybe ever, and he intended to stick to them.

"You…look…so good in that," Sasha purred once he was dressed and ready, pressing Dean up against the door for a fiercely stolen kiss. Dean could feel the excitement just radiating off of the redhead, which made the whole thing that much more worth it.

"Right back at ya. Now, if you have to go and call this the 'D' word, you go right on ahead and do it, coz, baby, I am taking you out and we're gonna have a good time just you and me. You up for that?"

The glint of deviousness in Sasha's eyes was a perfect reflection of how Dean felt, proven even more when the incubus said, "Maybe so 'up' for it that it'd be better if we stayed in. But I'm ready for whatever you have planned. You know I'd go wherever you lead me."

"Good," Dean said, slipping a hand down Sasha's body from his waist to his backside as he still had him pulled in close. He gripped tightly for a moment, harking back to Sasha's little groping maneuver in the dressing rooms. "Now get that cute little ass in the car and let's get gone."

Dean had already filled Sam in on this little excursion so no one would worry should they come calling for Dean or Sasha later in the night. All his younger brother had responded with was a grin, a chuckling shake of his head, and a pat on the back. Good enough for permission in Dean's book, not that he was looking for a blessing or anything; the people around them had more than given their approval of what seemed such a natural relationship for the both of them. Which really said something given how the hunter crowd wasn't exactly known for being broad-minded.

Since they were in Denver, another urban nightmare for Dean traffic-wise, he had considered taking a cab instead of his baby, but he just couldn't bring himself to leave her out of the fun. She would be necessary for what he had planned later after all. So he had located the place he wanted to go, trying his damnedest to make sure it wasn't too far from their hotel. Amazingly, he had managed, and was even able to park—granted paid parking—without any trouble. The parking garage was for several of the nearby establishments so it was difficult to narrow down which one they were heading to. Dean could tell Sasha was getting anxious trying to figure it out.

"Can't take the surprise?" he teased, walking just a little slower as they headed for the doors down to street level.

"You're an evil bastard sometimes, you know that?" Sasha grinned back, "I know you're sweet. I know you're romantic. I know you like a good time. But all of the above at once with you getting all dressed up for me and everything, you're outdoing yourself Mr. Winchester."

Dean shrugged, a smirk playing at his lips as self-satisfied as he could make it. "Well, Mr. Kelly, figured we deserved it, especially just us since that's so rare a thing these days. And…sometimes it's nice not to have to pretend. Right?" Dean winked, picked up his pace to move past Sasha and opened the door for his friend that lead down to the club he had chosen for them, "Now I know I said this last time, but this isn't going to happen often, so don't get used to it," Dean added, the name on the door not enough for everything to click for Sasha quite yet, but that final phrase seemed to do it.

"No way," Sasha said disbelievingly as they headed down the stairs. They could already hear the strong beat of techno dance music below them.

Answering outright would spoil the fun, so Dean just grinned and kept on going. By the time they were at the parking lot door, showing their IDs to the bouncer, the cliental inside was the final give-away.

"You know, it was in a bar just like this that we first spent time together," Sasha whispered loudly into Dean's ear as they moved through the club to order a beginning round of drinks. The lights of the place were a little spastic for Dean's taste, the music a little too recycled, but you couldn't deny that every man around them was having a good time.

"Oh?" Dean called back, "Where was that?"

"Minnesota," Sasha laughed, "When I first mortified you. Little place on Hennepin Avenue called…'The Gay 90s'."

Damn. How could Dean have forgotten that? Of course they hadn't gotten the chance to experience that club in full swing. Not like this one. "Well what can I say, baby," Dean said, as loudly as he ever said that nickname when other people were in hearing distance, "I felt like dancing with you somewhere that wasn't just our hotel room and that wouldn't have dicks in it wanting to beat the crap out of us. Not too many places for that." Of course Dean still felt strangely exposed being in a gay club, especially with the large amount of looks he and Sasha were getting as they crossed to the bar, but he knew who he was with. That's all that mattered.

"We gotta have shots," Sasha said, grinning madly.

There was a fairly large gathering at the bar but they managed to elbow their way in and even snag some stools when a couple of other guys ditched. "Being in a gay bar doesn't mean we have to act like chicks," Dean teased.

Sasha rolled his eyes and some other guy behind Sasha gave Dean a look that he promptly ignored. "Admit it, you Oprah-loving, daytime TV watching, Bon Jovi fan, you," Sasha said, "You love shots. And you have as much of a feminine side as the next guy."

"Which next guy?" Dean chuckled, lowering his voice a little since there was a guy in pretty much spandex everything down the bar and a lot of the other men around them had some form of makeup on.

"Purple Nurples," Sasha informed the bartender, holding up two fingers. The bartender nodded and flashed Sasha a smile.

Dean scooted his stool an inch closer to Sasha then and gave his best 'he's mine' glare. The bartender just smiled. "Guess I can't argue with a shot choice like that," Dean said to Sasha, "Want anything more solid before we hit the floor?"

"Are you sure you want to go out there?" Sasha asked seriously, "This place is pretty different from Wade's. I mean this is all strictly men and they look a little more…rambunctious. I don't want you having a panic attack out there or something."

"Ha, frickin' ha," Dean huffed, "I'm more likely to have a seizer," he said, thinking of all the damn moving lights, "Don't worry about me. All I have to focus on is you. It's all I need."

"You know they usually have gay porn through a secret door in the bathroom in these places," Sasha grinned cheekily.

"Don't push it."

The shots were downed with practiced ease—Dean had forgotten how much he enjoyed that particular shot and planned to have more of several somethings before the night was over—and as promised, Dean grabbed Sasha by the hand and led him out onto the dance floor.

It was the opposite of Dean's usual scene on a scale that made being in that mall earlier pale sharply in comparison, but damn it, Dean was going to enjoy himself. As long as he focused on Sasha like he had said, he knew it didn't really matter where they were. Being in a place like this just made it easier for them to be a couple out in the open. Dean may be as anti-PDA as a man could get most of the time, but even he liked those rare times they didn't have to hide.

The dance floor was hot as hell, and as much as Dean distrusted coat rooms in places like this, he eventually agreed to drop their jackets off before they hit the dance floor again. Two shots later, Dean was convinced that this place had never heard of a slow song, and he wasn't really going to complain, but as soon as he heard the familiar and surprising voice of Mary Wells' "My Guy" he knew the truth was a lot worse.

Dean was certain he wouldn't be able to dance to this song. Too cheesy, too hokey, too…gay. But Sasha grabbed hold of his hips and kept him close, unwilling to let him run from the dance floor like he wanted. The incubus was laughing as they danced and the cheesy 1960s lyrics sent Dean right over the edge too.

What Dean never could have expected though was for the rarely heard acoustic version of Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" to begin playing next. He pulled from Sasha after the first bar, immediately recognizing what song it was. "How'd you request this? When?" Dean asked, knowing it couldn't be just a coincidence.

"Guy in charge of the music was right by the coat room," Sasha grinned, "You were so engrossed in making sure your precious leather would be safe, it was easy. The guy actually said he was thrilled to play it. Kind of fitting for this place if you listen to the lyrics." Sasha pulled Dean back in close again, resting his head on Dean's shoulder and holding his waist. Dean mirrored him, eyes closing as he drank in the very song that had sprung the words 'I love you' from his mouth for the first time. At least the first time it really mattered.

So close no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters

Never opened myself this way
Life is ours, we live it our way
All these words I don't just say
And nothing else matters

Trust I seek and I find in you
Every day for us something new
Open mind for a different view
And nothing else matters

Never cared for what they do
Never cared for what they know
But I know

So close no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters

"You know something?" Dean whispered as the song began to fade off. He still had his eyes closed, but he had seen how many other pleased couples had stayed or joined those on the dance floor to slow dance to this song too.

"What?" Sasha breathed back.

Dean smiled into Sasha's neck. Kissed the pale skin there. "I think I still love you."

The most blissful laugh left Sasha's lips. "Good. So do I."

Another slow song played, one Dean didn't know, but they danced on anyway until the speakers blared with rave music again. After that Dean could tell by the look in Sasha's eyes that now would be a good time for his second surprise. "Wanna get outta here?" Dean asked with a waggled eyebrow.

Sasha chuckled again, eyes shimmering. "Wherever you lead, I'll follow," he said, looking at Dean with such trust, such raw emotion that Dean felt like he was the one with wings. Dean knew without a doubt that no one had ever made him feel like that before, like he mattered more than anything else, like he was special, and wanted, and worth something.

He pulled Sasha through the club, retrieved their coats, got to the Impala and out of the parking lot as quickly as he could manage, and headed out of Denver.

"Uhh, Dean?" Sasha questioned as soon as he realized Dean was getting on the highway, "Where are we going?"

"Hey, I thought wherever I lead, you follow," Dean snarked back.

This of course had Sasha laughing again, the incubus maybe a little buzzed, over-tired like they all were from the past week, and looking all amused at Dean instead of annoyed. "I will. I'd just like to know what trouble you're going to get us into. We need to leave first thing, remember? And we should get some actual sleep tonight."

"Don't worry, I'll have us back by curfew," Dean grinned, "Place we're heading isn't far. Just this spot I found a few years back when we were pulling a job in Aurora. I'll be right up front with you. Yeah, I took a chick to this place. And oh did I ever get lucky," he whistled, "But believe me, she wasn't nearly as worthy of this place as you are. Still trust me?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and a tilt of his head towards the redhead beside him.

Dean had one hand resting between the seats, driving with the other. Sasha reached over and took that inviting hand and laced his fingers over the top of them. "Til Hell and damnation," Sasha smirked.

It was just the kind of inappropriate joke that made Dean love the incubus all the more. "Hell yeah."

True to his word too, the trip only took them twenty minutes out of town, just a little out of the way place, fairly secluded and high enough to give a damn nice view of the Denver skyline.

Now Dean had always been more of a landscape kind of guy as far as breathtaking views went, not that he ever had much time to sit back and enjoy those kinds of things, but there was something beautiful about a cityscape too. Maybe it was because Sasha seemed to fit better with that backdrop, down-to-earth as the incubus might be.

If Dean didn't trust his baby on harsher terrain, he might not have left the road, but he remembered this path and the lack of foliage gave them a clear ride to the hill he wanted, overlooking the city. Sasha was grinning ever wider when Dean shifted into PARK. Dean would keep the car running too as it was pretty damn cold outside.

"It's beautiful," Sasha smiled, looking out at the lights.

Dean swept his eyes over Sasha's face. "Sure is from where I'm sitting," he said softly.

Sasha's smile quirked up on one side, crooked but pleased, so pleased, and relieved, and happy. He scooted across the seats, his hip pressing against Dean's, hands seeking whatever holds they could find, and just looked at Dean, seeing him like no one else ever could. "You really have no idea how wonderful you are, do you?" Sasha asked.

"I'm not wonderful."

"Yes. You are." Sasha reached one hand up to the back of Dean's neck and ran his nails through the short strands of dirty-blonde hair.

It felt so good—the closeness, the warmth, everything. Dean closed his eyes. "I can't figure for the life of me why you love me so much."

"You want me to list all the reasons?" Sasha whispered close to his face, "Because I can. You're brave, and noble, and sweet. You care so much about everybody else, even people you barely know, that you usually forget about yourself. And you make me laugh, and make me feel like I'm…actually worth something to someone."

That got Dean's eyes to open. "Hey now. Don't go singing my tune. I hate that song," he tried to chuckle.

But despite the incubus' self-deprecating words, there was nothing but devotion in Sasha's eyes, even missing the sorrow that usually lingered there. "Oh, and I can't forget the best part. I also love you because you are so blindingly, absolutely and unfairly hot." Sasha flicked his tongue out to lick at his bottom lip as he said that.

"Can't argue with that one," Dean smirked. He slipped his hands inside Sasha's new leather jacket, feeling just how warm the redhead was. "Hey…wanna see how roomy that back seat can be?" he whispered as he pushed the jacket easily off Sasha's shoulders and down his arms.

Already Sasha looked flushed, and he eagerly pushed Dean's leather away too. "It is the kind of back seat that was just made for…certain things," he replied, eyeing the back that was all smooth black leather.

The hunger in Sasha's stare was the very look Dean had been missing. It made it significantly more difficult to make it into the back seeing as how Dean lunged for Sasha then, kissing his lips like he was starved for them.

There was a sudden, telling thud, and then Sasha cried out, or rather somewhat whimpered since their mouths were suctioned together at the time.

Dean lifted up immediately to see that he had accidentally knocked Sasha's head into the passenger side door. He would have apologized if Sasha wasn't giggling up at him. "Masochist," Dean shook his head at the incubus.

Sasha just laughed harder for a moment and then suddenly pushed Dean forcefully away and started scrambling over the seats into the back. As he was hurrying, he ended up with his rear in the air and in easy reach for a good long while, but by the time Dean had righted himself to take advantage, he just narrowly missed grabbing a handful of incubus ass. He would remedy that soon.

"Now you know I'm gonna come and getcha," Dean grinned as Sasha stretched out in the back.

"You better," he taunted, stretching long like a cat so that his burgundy shirt hitched up and there was that low line of tattoos painting Sasha's hips.

Being an old pro at naughty activities in the back seats of cars, especially his own, Dean was over the seats with practiced ease in moments, claiming and covering Sasha's body with his own. He couldn't help noticing, however, that his tight new jeans did not aid in that process at all. "These so aren't coming out on hunts," Dean grimaced, shifting within the constricting denim with a motion he soon turned into a slow grind down against Sasha.

The incubus laughed, head pressing back into the leather cushions beneath him at the feel of Dean. He reached up for the buttons on Dean's shirt then and began to undo each one. When it fell open, revealing the bandages covering Dean's heart to protect that still fresh and healing tattoo, Dean noticed Sasha frown. That wouldn't do at all.

"You already don't like it?" Dean smiled crookedly, "I haven't even taken the gauze off yet."

Sasha's eyes snapped up to meet Dean's, apologetic. "No, I…I guess I just got reminded of the last time you had bandages over your chest. Christ, Dean, we…we've been through so much, and it's barely been over half a year. Could have sworn someone, somewhere said 'life gets easier'."

Dean had to huff at that. "If they did, they were lying," he said, "Can't imagine it gets easier from here."

"No…"

That faraway, sorrowful tone was not what Dean wanted to hear right now. He scooted back, put the flat of his hands right where Sasha was teasing him with visible skin, and trailed up beneath the incubus' shirt, raising it as he went. The tattoo came into view—the new inked one—like a pagan sun over Sasha's heart and that all-important scar. The scar wasn't completely hidden. Dean could see the cracks, the jagged lines. It gave the tattoo character.

"Dean…" Sasha breathed, sorrow leaving as raggedness returned to Sasha's voice.

"That's why we gotta take this time when we get it," Dean said, tracing the healed and perfect tattoo with his fingertips. He probably could have taken his own bandages off earlier but his tattoo wouldn't be as smooth as Sasha's for some time. "And you know what else…?" Dean whispered.

"What?"

Tugging Sasha's shirt over the incubus' head, Dean let it fall between the seats, dipped down to capture a kiss, and ran a hand through Sasha's soft red hair before saying, "I know why it's you. Why it always had to be you. Because all those things you said before?" He looked hard at Sasha. Looked. And loved. "You believe them," he said.

With a glowing smile in reply, it was Sasha who grabbed Dean's face, kissed him deeply, adoringly, and didn't let go. Dean's shirt fell from his shoulders to join Sasha's on the floor. Then Sasha's jeans were tugged down. His shorts. And Dean's that were not so surprisingly more difficult to remove so that both of them were laughing by the time they were finally sprawled naked on top of each other in the back of the Impala.

Dean wanted to worship Sasha tonight, wanted to make up for everything that had happened, Meg especially, and show Sasha that everything the incubus saw in him, Dean saw in Sasha too. And then some.

He re-mapped that body he knew so well with the pads of his fingers, the whole of his hands, and with gentle swipes of his tongue. He let the incubus writhe and stretch out, climbed down Sasha's body, and sucked him in at the tip with eager lips.

A gasp left Sasha and he bucked up into Dean's mouth, clutching suddenly at Dean's hair like he hadn't felt this in months and, god, it felt amazing. Dean was good with his tongue, even more so with his lips, and he had learned all the ways of making Sasha breathless. Swallowing Sasha deep and then slowing pulling away was one of the things that always made the redhead whimper.

Dean was surprised, therefore, when Sasha clutched at him, pulling him back up his body so they could kiss hungrily again. Then Dean felt one of Sasha's large, soft hands reach between his legs and take hold. Sasha found the wetness Dean was weeping liberally and smoothed it over the shaft that had been hard since even before they climbed into the back.

The way they fell upon each other after that, kissing with deeply probing tongues, biting and sucking at each others' necks, anywhere really, made it impossible for Sasha to keep his hand between their bodies. But then they were grinding, the heat so strong and slick where they connected that Dean moaned loudly up at his baby's ceiling, with his other baby beneath him.

Spurned on by that sound and given such a sweet opening with the way Dean arched up, Sasha strained forward and licked a long trail over Dean's Adam's apple. Damn, Dean wanted the incubus so badly he could taste it. And he did, licking at the inside of Sasha's mouth and kissing him hard where there was the lingering taste of the shots they had had at the club. Between them they were wet and sticky from themselves and from all that wonderful friction.

"Dean," Sasha said in that demanding voice that Dean had learned the first time they were together meant 'now, do it now, take me now'.

Obligingly, Dean wet his fingers, moving back to fall between Sasha's legs that spread for him so willingly. Dean couldn't help grinning at the sight of red flickering in Sasha's blue eyes and the glint of revealed fangs. Dean had missed the familiarity of that.

He stretched Sasha with one finger, with two, enjoying so much all the noises that spilled from Sasha's lips whenever he did that. Even when Sasha bucked up, impatient as Dean added a third finger, Dean worked the digits inside of Sasha for several minutes more, drawing out those pleading, pleasured moans. Only when Sasha gripped his arm too tightly with fingers that were turning black did Dean give in, position himself, and press.

The thrill of all that tight heat got to Dean every time, more so with Sasha than ever before with someone else. He felt Sasha wrap his legs around him, heels pressing into Dean's backside. With the red eyes and fangs too Dean was brought blissfully back to their first night together on Bobby's guest room floor.

Every thrust forward had Dean trembling. Sasha too. It wasn't until they had built so close to climax and Dean could feel the circuit—something he should have recognized was missing when he was with Meg—that Dean realized it wasn't just pleasure running between them. There was also grief, a fierce grief that Sasha was giving over to Dean and allowing him to slowly burn away.

Dean looked closely at Sasha's brilliant red eyes then and saw that his friend, his love was crying. He would have worried if he didn't understand. "Baby…" he breathed, running a thumb under each of those eyes and leaning down to kiss Sasha gently, "It's okay, you know. It's gonna be okay."

And instead of arguing, Sasha just nodded, smiling through the shimmer in his eyes. "I know. But that doesn't mean you get to…tease me about this tomorrow, you bastard," he said, playing at a pout.

Dean couldn't stop the barked laugh that left him. "Crying during sex?" he balked, "You better believe I do."

"Jerk."

"Angel."

Sasha laughed, his fangs gloriously prominent. "Not quite."

"Eh, more so than me," Dean shrugged. He bucked forward to pick up their pace again then, missing that wonderful rhythm.

It was only moments later that Sasha came, staining both their chests with heat like an exhale. The circuit echoed what the incubus had felt and strengthened it, guiding Dean to his own climax like gently, loving hands that filled Dean with constant rivulets of pleasure. When he finally came to follow after Sasha it was hard and shuddering. He pulled out just before and as much as it might make things more difficult to clean up later when they finally caught their breaths, Dean couldn't resist falling on top of Sasha and lying there with him, tangled up and content.

The car was so quiet without the radio, just their breaths and the rumble of the engine. It made Sasha's words clear and unmistakable when they left him.

"I love you, Dean," the incubus whispered.

Those words were once something Dean feared above anything else, and now they filled him with peace, with hope. "Til Hell and damnation," he promised.

No matter how literal.

tbc...

A/N: Obligatory fluff! You deserved it. All presented for Zibila, who also had requested Sasha on top and to be all incubused-out, but sadly I will have to get to that later. Hope you liked! Things will be back to a more normal setting after this and we'll get through to the end of the deal fairly quickly I'm thinking. Watch out for Lilith. ;-P And yes, Leven shall return, if only for a chapter. Sorry for the lateness, please review and remind me you are there for the holidays! I meant to post last night in honor of the show still being gone. Oh well. I'll try to be better. I want to finish this arc before January 15th when they come back. Love you!

Oh and the whole Deus ex Samina is totally Blueeyesgreen's invention which I had to use. Love that wording.

I forgot! The Abercrombie comment-unnamed store that shortens your life when you walk past-was to reference that Chase Crawford was an Abercrombie model before being an actor. Hee.

Also, before I forget AGAIN, deangirl suggested another DRABBLE CONTEST. Shall we say you have until xmas eve, so lots of time for more entries, and I'll announce the winner after New Years? Therefore, the prompt really has to be 'presents'. Have fun!

Crim