Sam opened his eyes, groggily. Sunlight fell in bands as it filtered through the blinds onto the hardwood floor next to where Sam was sleeping. Sam sat up a little, causing his left side to twinge in pain. He grimaced and reached over, feeling a bandage stretched across his bare chest. Sam recalled all that had happened. "Oh God, I hope Dean's alright." He thought to himself. Sam rolled over and stopped abruptly, looking at the couch. "Oh, he is perfectly ok." Dean was stretched across the couch fast asleep, Francesca lying to the side, and almost on top, of him. Dean's arm draped gently over her and Francesca's hand rested on his chest, rising and falling as Dean breathed. Sam's eyes scanned over an empty bottle of Absolut Vodka and two glasses, one overturned on its side. He shook his head, chuckled quietly to himself, and stood up; searching for his shirt. Sam found it awkward to be standing in the middle of a strange room, shirtless, while his brother slept with a girl in his arms a few feet away. After a couple moments, Sam decided to risk the awkwardness and wake Dean up. Cautiously, he walked up to his brother.
"Dean?" His throat was sore from coughing and his voice cracked a little. Sam shook Dean's arm lightly, watching his face for signs of stirring; nothing. Sam tried again, a little louder this time.
"Dean." Dean took in a deep breath and fidgeted a little, his arm bent closer around Francesca's small form. Sam grinned and he was forced to go to drastic measures. He pinched Dean's arm, getting an instant result. Dean's arm jerked away and he took in a short breath, opening his eyes.
Sam smiled at him mischievously. "Sorry to uh, interrupt, but where's my shirt?"
Dean gave him a puzzled look and noticed the weight on the left side of his body. He looked down at Francesca's sleeping form, her head resting on his shoulder and her hand splayed across his chest. Dean looked at Sam again, an embarrassed smirk spread across his face.
Sam grinned. "You know, we should probably get out of here before this whole thing unfolds."
Dean nodded and looked at Francesca, almost hating to wake her. "Uh, Francesca?"
He put his free hand on Francesca's shoulder and eased her up as he moved them both to a sitting position. Francesca stirred and looked around sleepily.
Her eyes fell upon Sam and she smiled. "Oh, morning. How are you feeling?"
Sam chuckled and nodded. "Alright, I guess."
Francesca nodded and realized after a few moments that she was smack up against Dean. "Oh, wow sorry!" She quickly stood up off the couch. "Sorry, I didn't mean t0-"
Francesca stopped and put her hand to her head, grimacing. "Wow, stood up way too fast." She opened her eyes and saw the empty liquor bottle and glasses.
"That looks about right." She nodded a little.
Sam shifted his weight. "Listen, do you happen to have a shirt I could borrow?"
Francesca looked at him, just now noticing that he was wearing pants and not much else. "Oh, of course, be right back."
She carefully made her way to the stairs and went up them. Sam turned to Dean who was getting up off the couch. He stopped grinning when he had stood up all the way and made a pained face.
"Man, my head is freakin' killing me."
Sam raised his eyebrows. "Well God, Dean, a whole bottle?"
Dean gave him a defensive look. "I didn't drink the whole damn thing myself." He rubbed his hand over his eyes and let out a deep breath.
Sam made a face. "Uh...ya'll, didn't..." He fidgeted uncomfortably and poked his hand at the couch.
"...While I was asleep on the floor, did you?"
Dean glanced back at the couch and looked up, thinking. "No." He said finally, still thinking.
"We uh, came in here to sit down and have a few more drinks." Dean narrowed his eyes, trying to remember.
"I think...she pushed me, playfully ya know? And I fell over and it felt good to lay down...I think we just both fell asleep." Dean cleared his through, noticeably uncomfortable, and looked at Sam.
Sam held back a smirk and nodded. "Suave, Dean...really."
"Shut up, you were out cold on the floor, dude. What was I supposed to do?" Sam smiled and shrugged as Francesca came back into the room holding a black t-shirt in her hand.
"Here ya go." She handed it to Sam.
"My ex left it here awhile back." Sam smiled his thanks. He lifted his arms, grimacing at the pain coming from his right side, and put the shirt over his head. Sam pulled down the shirt to reveal a big, yellow smiley with its eyebrow raised stretched across his chest. He looked slowly up at his brother.
Dean nodded and smirked, clapping Sam on the right shoulder. "It suits you, little brother."
Francesca put her hand to her mouth, concealing her smile. "Yeah, I guess there was a reason I broke up with the guy." She said, laughing to herself.
Sam turned to Francesca. "Thank you so much for uh..." He motioned to the left side of his chest; Francesca nodded, smiling.
Sam smiled and glanced at Dean. "I'll be in the car; see you around, Francesca." Sam snatched Dean's jacket off a chair defiantly and put it on, covering up his happy shirt.
"Bye, Sam." Said Francesca as Sam smiled at her and went out the door. She turned to Dean and walked the few steps towards him.
"So uh, did we...?"
Dean shook his head. "No, we just fell asleep."
Francesca smiled. "Ok, good...I guess." She looked down, smiling shyly.
Dean looked at her thoughtfully. "Listen, I'd love to give ya a call sometime, but..."
Francesca nodded and looked up. "I know, but you're on the run for a murder you didn't commit."
Dean nodded, regretfully. "Right."
Francesca laughed. "Must admit, that's the best excuse I've had from a guy yet."
Dean laughed a little and gazed down at Francesca, running his hands lightly over her arms. "I want to thank you again for what you did for Sam."
Francesca blinked and nodded, looking up at him. Dean paused for a moment then bent down, kissing Francesca lightly on the lips. Francesca put her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with a little more intensity. Dean put his hands on the small of her waist, pulling her closer. After a few moments their lips parted and they looked at each other.
"You're welcome." Said Francesca quietly, smiling up at him.
Dean sighed, slight regret pulling at his mind. "So you're not gonna call the feds on me?"
Francesca smiled faintly and shook her head. Dean nodded and let go of her waist; Francesca took her arms from around his neck. Dean ran his hand over her arm again and he walked to the door.
He paused as he opened it and he looked back. "I wish circumstances could be different."
Francesca smiled and nodded, putting her hands in her back-pockets. "Call me when the verdict is not guilty."
Dean nodded his head a little. "Later, Francesca."
Francesca waved her hand in a small arc. "Bye, Dean."
Dean looked at her one last time and shut the door. He walked down the front steps and out to the sun-reflecting Impala. Sam looked at him intently, smiling as Dean got in the car.
Dean glanced at him and started up the engine. "What?"
"She got to you, didn't she?" Sam grinned at him. Dean turned the wheel and drove the Impala down the street, not answering Sam's question.
Sam chuckled a little and patted Dean on the shoulder. "That's my boy."
Dean smiled and looked at Sam, shaking his head a little. "It just sounds weird when you say it, dude."
Sam laughed and looked out the window, feeling the nearly forgotten benefits of a good-night sleep, completely vision free.
Sam came out of the bathroom, back at the hotel, newly dressed in clothes that didn't look like they had come straight from a twelve year old boy's closet. He tossed the smiley shirt in the trashcan triumphantly. Dean was throwing clothes and random possessions in his bag.
"How's your uh..." He indicated Sam's bandage. Sam nodded and swiveled his left shoulder a bit.
"It's a little sore, but fine." Sam began packing up his bag as well.
"You gave me a big scare for a change, Sammy."
Sam smiled. "Now you know how it feels. You gonna think twice before doing something crazy again now?"
Dean made a face. "Me? What about you? I'd say jumping in front of a bullet qualifies as crazy."
Sam looked down and gathered up his computer. "I did what I had to, Dean." He said quietly.
"Yeah and you nearly got yourself killed." Dean's voice grew strong with worry and regret.
"You would've died, I saw you die, Dean."
"Yeah, well better me than you." Dean mumbled, almost inaudibly.
Sam stopped packing, facing his brother. "Better for whom, Dean?"
Dean looked ahead of him briefly and swung his packed bag to the floor.
"It's not better for either of us if I die or if you die." said Sam quietly.
Dean shook his head and smiled bitterly. "God, you really are dark..."
Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. "Dean, I'm serious. Don't you ever think it would be better for me if you died saving my life."
Dean looked up at his brother, his face serious. "Right back at ya."
Sam nodded. "Ok."
Dean stood for a moment and brightened a bit. "Let's strike a compromise: we do what we can to take each other's asses and hope for the best." Dean raised his eyebrows and spread his arms a little.
Sam thought about it for a moment and smiled, putting his hand out. "Deal."
Dean shook Sam's hand and put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Come on..." Dean released Sam's hand and picked up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. "Let's make like Elvis and get the hell out of here."
Sam laughed, took up his own bag and followed Dean, closing the door behind him. The Winchesters had left the building.