Rating: PG-13, allusions to Bela's past
Pairing/Characters: Dean/Bela (Like I write anything else!)
Summary: Dean knows he shouldn't want her, that he should hate her, but he finds Bela irresistible.
Notes: This is a follow up to "Seeking Comfort" and takes place between that and the tag of 'Red Sky At Morning". Part two will be post- "Fresh Blood" and have adult content.
The bar was a bit more upscale than Dean was used to. It didn't even have a pool table. But that was okay with him. He wasn't looking to hustle pool or find a poker game. He just wanted to have a drink and maybe find a woman who could make him forget about Bela. He wanted to forget how she looked in that black dress, the way she looked at him when he came downstairs in that damned tux. How it felt those few moments he held her in his arms when he carried her upstairs. Later, at the cemetery, how scared she had been when the spirit came for her, how he had actually feared for her life, begging Sammy to read faster.
He didn't need to get mixed up in any kind of relationship with a woman, not with so little time left. And definitely not with a woman like Bela. No matter how much he wanted her.
The waitress, Cyndie, was a buxom blonde and a natural flirt. On a normal night, Dean would have gotten her number by now and made a date to get together after her shift was over. But not tonight. Oh, he smiled at her and laughed at her jokes, but his heart wasn't in it.
He was on his fourth beer when Bela walked in. Dean noticed her right away. Noticed how calm she looked, as if she hadn't been fighting for her life just hours before. Noticed how other men watched her as she made her way through the bar. Noticed how she was headed right for him with that disconcerting little smile on her face. Noticed how Cyndie was now scowling at him. Noticed how he didn't care about that.
She sat down across from him, smiled, and said, "Buy me a drink?"
"I think you can afford your own drinks," he answered. "Besides, I don't think Cyndie likes you very much." He glanced over at the waitress, who was serving someone else, but still cast an icy glance at Bela. Dean tried to smile at her, but she just turned away. He wasn't interested in her anyway. The only woman he wanted was now sitting across from him, looking impossibly beautiful even with her tough persona back in place. But he was sure if he looked hard enough, he could see the Bela from the cemetery, the scared, vulnerable Bela who clung to him then. Hard to remember how she had used him in that moment, how she had caused a family member to die. "What are you doing here, Bela? Are you following me?"
"Don't flatter yourself, Dean. I wanted a drink. This is a bar. But it is kind of hard to miss that thing you call a car." She glanced over at Cyndie. "Did I ruin your date for the night? Surely you can do better."
"I don't think that's really any of your business, Bela. But what is my business is knowing why the spirit was after you."
Her eyes darkened and he swore he could see tears forming in her eyes. "It's none of your damned business," she hissed. "I told you that you wouldn't understand."
He leaned across the table, reigning in the urge to take her hand in his. "I saved your life tonight. I think I deserve some answers. Besides, I've been a hunter all my life. You can't scare me."
She sighed and shook her head. "Then you know that not everything supernatural is evil and not all evil is supernatural. I did what I had to. And I don't regret it."
In that moment, she was suddenly the vulnerable Bela of before. He reached out and took her hands in his, surprised when she didn't pull away. She didn't deserve his hate, he realized. She had been hurt, broken, and it had turned her into a cold, calculating thief. But the vulnerable, broken person was there, just under the surface. He wanted to hold her and assure her that everything was okay, he could keep her safe. "I'm sorry," he told her.
She snatched her hands away from him, the fire back in her eyes. "I don't need or want your pity, Dean Winchester," she practically growled at him. Then she was headed for the door and he was running after her, ignoring Cyndie telling him he needed to pay for his drinks first.
He caught up with her before she reached her car. He grabbed her arm and she whirled around to face him. "What the bloody hell do you want with me, Dean? I told you I don't need your pity. Just leave me alone." She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her.
"I don't pity you, Bela. And I don't hate you," he told her. His hand moved from her arm to cup her cheek and he was surprised when she didn't pull away. "I just-" but he stopped talking as he noticed her eyes were closed and she was leaning into his touch. She was just too damn beautiful, too damn irresistible. Before he even realized what he was doing, his lips were on hers. Soft, sweet, and just too damn right. And then she was kissing him back, her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his, her tongue caressing his. And it felt just too damn right.