Author's Note: This is a prequel to "Glasses". You do not need to read that story to understand this one. I took some liberties with this story. Time tables may not be exact. Also, I know that hunting demons was not something John and Dean did a lot of preseries.

"Dean how can you miss a huge possessed mountain lion?" John Winchester asked his son as he patched up the cuts on his son's stomach.

"I just didn't see it Dad until it was almost on top of me. I'm sorry. I'll pay better attention next time." Dean said as he winced at his father's ministrations.

That exchange of words had led Dean Winchester to Lenscrafters starring at a little white cardboard square with miniscule blurry letters on it. His father said that it had nothing to do with attention, because Dean had been starring right at the thing, John supposed that it had all to do with deteriorating eye sight. Dean had scoffed and had objected to the idea that his eye sight could ever go bad. Come on he was only 24. People his age didn't have to worry about deteriorating eye sight. Did they?

"Well, sir. You definitely need glasses." Dean's eyes widened. No. That couldn't be right. No way in the world could that be right. Dean Winchester fearless fighter of the supernatural, chick magnet could not possible be forced to wear nerd beacons.

"You must be mistaken." Dean said politely. The smiling woman smiled brighter and put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's not that big of a deal. I think you are handsome enough that the girls will barely notice."

"Well it's not that exactly." He said trying to cover that that was EXACTLY the reason.

"Then what is it exactly?"

"I lead a pretty active lifestyle." He said noncommittally.

"Play sports?"

"Yeah." Sure. You can call it a sport. Don't they call hunting of animals a sport? Then yeah. Sure call it sports.

"Well we can do two things. We can set you up with some contacts…"

"I like that option. Sign me up." Dean said quickly.

"But until we can get them in. We'll get you set up with some regular glasses and some sports glasses."

"What do you mean until we can get them in?"

"We have to send away for contacts so it might take up to a week."

"A WEEK!" Dean exclaimed.

"But for the time, pick out your frames and we'll get those glasses to you in about an hour." Dean took a deep breath, ran a hand across his eyes and nodded. He looked and looked at the frames that were available to him and the least offensive looking pair was a pair with thin silver frames. The lady smiled and told him that it was a good choice because they accented his large green eyes and she disappeared. Who cared about emphasizing his eyes. He freaking didn't want to wear them period, his eyes were pretty enough without the added decoration thank you very much. Without anything else to do but wait, Dean sat back in one of the chairs for the recently condemned.

Lenscrafters didn't kid about glasses in an hour thing. In a little over an hour he had his new glasses firmly and securely fitted to his face and a very very offensive pair of sports goggles, because there was no way in the world they could actually be considered glasses, with the elastic band around the back tucked safely away into his coat pocket. He had a promise from the nice eye doctor that his contacts would be ready in a week. He attempted to smile, took his unwanted plunder and left the store.

It took him some getting used to, the glasses. The world seemed all bent and bowed for the first day or so. His dad made him go out and practice shooting as if he was some newbie that had never held a gun before. Dean protested, whined, and tried to weasel his way out of it. John, however, was unaffected and forced his eldest son to do as he was told. He set up the targets for his son and he left him alone with the gun.

"Treating me like I've never held a gun in my hands before." Dean grumbled as he took aim. "As if having glasses will affect how I shoot." He shot the first can and he missed. Confidence shaken he looked at the gun assuming that there was something wrong with the machinery. Once looked over and assured that it wasn't the gun, he took aim at the second can and he shot at it and missed it again, however, not by nearly as much as he had missed the first one. He ended up setting up the cans six times before his aim was back to what he was used to. Dean set up the cans a seventh time just to prove that he was still a good shot. Once satisfied, he headed back to the motel room that he and his dad were sharing. He would never admit it, but he had needed the practice, and when he had gotten to the motel room and set his keys down and his father gave him an expectant look Dean said simply "Bulls eyed each one of them seven times." Both men knew it was a lie but John Winchester said nothing, just simply grinned as his son went into the bathroom and shut the door.

Dean entered the bar. It had been a long day. He and his father had found the demon, and it was an especially chatty demon to top everything off. Dean wished that it had been some sort of creature that hadn't had a command over the English language.

Dean sat at the bar and ordered a beer. He should have known it was going to go badly when he had put the sports glasses on and had caught a glimpse of himself. He looked like some kid that should be on the receiving end of a wedgy. Actually, he looked more like Sam acted and that was so not cool. It hadn't helped any when John had smirked and covered it with a cough before asking Dean if he was ready to head out. Dean felt stupid and he knew without a doubt that he looked stupid. He didn't need the feel of the elastic circling his head and digging into his scalp to tell him that.

What had absolutely topped off the evening was when John and Dean had captured the demon in a devil's trap and the demon, black eyes sparkling, got a good look at Dean. The demon had flat out laughed. No holds bar. The demon threw his head back and laughed so hard that tears came to its eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me." The demon had demanded.

"What the hell do you think is so funny?" Dean has asked, using his best bad ass voice.

"You." The demon kept laughing. "I thought hunters were supposed to look cool. Oh my….where did they find you? In some library or possibly where they keep all of the nerds past 20. Did they have to pry you away from your Star Wars collection to get you here?" The demon kept laughing. Dean threw holy water at it just because he needed some kind of retribution for the demon's remarks. It hadn't slowed the demon down. In fact it had made the demon taunt Dean more asking him if he was sure his mommy was okay with him being out this late, and asking him if he was going to go back and report this experience to the sci-fi club the demon was sure he belonged to. Asked if he had ever seen Buffy in this position and if that was why he knew holy water had any kind of effect on him.

Dean had never been so happy in his life to see something go back to hell as he had been at that moment. Actually, the demon went back to hell with its laughter still ringing in Dean's ears.

Because he needed a drink after the night he had had, he went to the local bar that turned out to be the local hang out for the college crowd. After ordering a beer he looked around, attempted to flirt with his usual bimbo crowd and found that they weren't interested. Dean decided that he would head out and just finish this horribly embarrassing day by sitting in the motel room watching crap TV when a girl with glasses that were the girl equivalent to his came up and ordered a couple beers and a soda. Obviously she was ordering for friends who seemed to be on the dance floor. She looked up at him sheepishly, blushed and turned back to wait for the bar tender to come up with her order.

"I'm Dean." he said sticking his hand out for her to shake. She was pretty, in a nerdy kind of way. Definitely a kind of girl that Sam would go for. She obviously had more in the way of brains than most of the girls he tended to go for. But then again, what they usually lacked in the brains department they definitely made up for in the breast department. This girl was wearing a simple tee shirt and jeans. Nothing fancy, nothing flashy, nothing revealing. She was just a simple girl.

"I'm Amelia." She said over the noise of the crowd. "You must be new here." She said

"I am. Just passing through town actually."

"Yeah. I guess that. You don't exactly fit with the locals here."

"What do you mean?"

"Room full of bimbos and jocks. You don't look like you are attracted to bimbos and you don't look like a jock." Dean was confused. He wasn't wearing different clothes. His tee shirt revealed the muscles that hunting had developed for him, his shirt clung to his chest and his jeans accentuated his trim waist and his long legs. His body hadn't changed and he knew from more than one source that his body was definitely athletic. (He was pretty sure his sources were accurate seeing how they were cheerleaders that knew all about athletic men.)

"No. I guess not." He said deciding to play this out. "You don't look like you belong here either."

"Room mates needed a designated driver. So they ask the resident nerd to accompany them. And like a fool I do."

"You attend the university?" he asked.

"Yeah. Math major." Dean made a face. She laughed. "What's your focus? English Literature or something like that?"

"Anthropology with an emphasis in folk lore."



"What kind of folk lore?"

"I like the dark stuff, vampire legends, werewolf legends…you know supernatural stuff." That was all it took. She invited him to sit with her at her table and the two of them spent the evening talking. She liked the same horror movies he did, she was definitely interested in things that go bump in the night, she kept questioning him about the "folk lore" he studied. It was really cool talking with someone who was interested in the things he was.

She told him about her brothers who she loved so much it hurt and how they each called her several times a week checking up on their baby sister. (She had crossed state lines to go to college.) While she spoke about her family Dean saw the same light brighten up her face that that brightened up in his face when he thought about his family and how much he loved them. He told her about Sam and how he was away at Stanford and how proud he was of his little brother.

Her friends came over sooner than Dean would have liked and told her that it was time to go. She looked down at her watch and realized that they had sat there talking for three hours. Dean was surprised too. He hadn't touched his beer and he finally realized that the bar was emptying of people. Both stood and she took out her cell phone and hesitantly asked him for his number. He gave her his, giving her his real name, and he put hers in his phone as well. The two parted and on his way back to the motel room, Dean realized something, he had just spent the majority of the night with a girl and he never once got undressed.

He got undressed and got ready for bed. He took off his glasses and set them on the night stand and realized something. He looked like someone a girl, a good girl, could talk to with the thin wire frames covering his eyes.

It's amazing what glasses could do.

Hope you enjoyed the story. I said this in the last story similar to this one. Jensen Ackles in glasses is a very sexy thing. Dean Winchester in glasses…not so much.