A/N: Set after the flashback scenes in After School Special. Figure after that, Dean would've been less open with girls. We know he spun stories to woman NOW so... yeah. Here we go.

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Denim and Gun Powder

The first thing she noticed about him was his button fly jeans. She often had to catch herself from staring at that particular region for too long, fearing he might notice. She wasn't a shy girl but she had a certain rule about letting guys know just how hot she thought they were. Or how hot she was for them. Guys like that didn't need the ego boost. But my oh my, how she appreciated a man that could wear a pair of jeans.

The next thing she noticed was his scent. She'd bumped into him in the halls a few times, coyly telling him she was sorry, acting cutely flustered when he winked back. It was always intentional and he probably knew that but she couldn't resist the urge to touch him. To smell him. It was a scent unlike any she'd ever come across on other boys his age; boys that tried too hard. It wasn't his cologne; she doubted he actually wore any. It wasn't his aftershave, but God did it smell heavenly. No, it was a mixture of soap and something else. Something she couldn't put her finger on. Something dangerous. It only made him more appealing.

She wasn't stupid. She knew he had a way with the ladies, so to speak. She didn't actually consider the girls he pulled into the janitor's closet "ladies". It was like a big neon sign letting every girl know "No Commitment". You could chalk it up to just being a teenager and wanting more fun than serious bonds but she knew better. See, the last thing she noticed was his eyes. They were guarded underneath all that playfulness. She didn't mind. Didn't want to know why. Unlike everyone else, she didn't see fit to try and fix everyone. She could play along, though. Even if it just got her in the janitor's closet. To be that close to him, his lips on hers and where ever else he felt like putting them. To breathe him in.

It wasn't until after he left one day, not coming back, that she realized what that smell was.

Dean Winchester was sex in denim and gun powder. And if she could bottle that, she'd make a fortune.

End.