Author's Note: Kind of an episode tag to 1.08 "Unscheduled Departure." Dean/Colette.
She was warm and flat against his palm as he moved his hand to touch her side; she was smiling that dreamy little half-smile she had, and Dean had never felt so alive.
He'd heard the stories before, about Dick - married-with-two-kids-and-a-baby-on-the-way-Dick - being caught with a flight attendant on the Clipper Fair Wind a few years back. It wasn't told as a cautionary tale. It was an excuse to laud Dick, buy another round at the bar, and slap each other on the back. It was how things were, for the Pan Am pilots. The names and particulars changed, but the story stayed the same, of lurid encounters in secluded corners of the aircraft and the shame she received when it was revealed.
The thought of Colette being minimized into a bar story, passed around for cheap accolades and free shots disgusted him.
She was so much more than that.
Every inch of her was a woman, that much was obvious - a beautiful one, at that. But she was smart and vibrant and courageous and spoke up for herself; she had a personality to complement her looks. He'd never met anyone else like her. He was convinced she was one-of-a-kind, completely unique in all the world - and he had seen the world, he had a good feeling he was right on this one. And he couldn't stop thinking about her.
Not that he'd tried particularly hard.
Not that anything in his thoughts could compare, once he saw her up close like this.
There were no words.
He closed his hand around hers, squeezed gently, released his grasp, and tilted his head toward the door.
She nodded, never taking her eyes off him as they walked out, their hands brushing against each other. Decorum was fine for when they were in public, around people who knew them and could use them as stories to swap. They'd toe the party line as long as they needed to, but maybe things would begin to shift between them in private, away from the glare and scrutiny.
After all, Dean wanted them to be the only ones to know their story.