Ew. Ew. Just look at him. Devouring that simple piece of pie like it's his only way of survival. Sam expressed the same amount of disgust as he uncomfortably shifted in the diner seat. This has become a usual thing, you see. Dean Winchester, the man who can fight any son of a bitch out there, the man who hasn't had a relationship last for only a night, the man who think his car is his wife, is practically shoveling apple pie into his mouth. Doesn't he ever get sick?
Sam coughed awkwardly, "Dude, you're making love to a dessert."
Dean glanced up from the now almost empty plate, not caring to wipe the pie crust off his chin, "Sorry, but ithas been awhile, considering how SOMEONE forgot to get the pie last time."
"It was only one time! Let it go!"
Ah, those brothers...and then there's me. Sara. The female hunter who occasionally travels with the boys to dangerous adventures and even humorous times. Most girls would probably love to be in my position now, not gonna deny, Sam and Dean are hot. Although, brother number two, is a different kind of attractiveness. He's the type who'd you tell your problems to or read a good book with. Dean, on the other hand is the type who picks you up at a bar and takes you to a hotel. This lead to another point. No matter how much I try to go on, no matter how many times I tell myself it's never going to happen, I can't help but be in love with Dean Winchester. It sucks.
Dean glanced at me for an honest few seconds, "Hey, Sara? Why are you so quiet tonight? Other nights I can't get you to shut the hell up-" Oh, thanks buddy.
Sighing slightly, I decided to come back to planet Earth, which unfortunately isn't the best place to be right now, "I'm fine...just thinking about things. So you guys gotta lead on the case?" What? You think we're at a run down dinner for no reason? Be a little more realistic.
Sam nodded, answering for his older sibling, "Yeah...there has been a lot more frequent disappearances at the local supermarket down the street. Reckon what it is?"
"That's sad. What have we come down to? Skipping along kid infested supermarkets, searching for people who supposedly were last seen there? Lame." Dean recoiled, trying to get the attention of the ditzy waitress a few feet away.
I frowned at that, choking down the urge to scream, 'Stop looking at her ass!', "Well apparently little Tommy's mother went to go get some milk and a few minutes later found her dangling body in the room where they freeze all the meat." Somethin' is going on there for sure.
The ditzy waitress finally spotted Dean gesturing her, so she smiled with her sickly pink lips and ungracefully floated towards the diner table, "More pie?" Hm, give Miss 'I'll give you a blow job for a dollar' credit for knowing what Dean actually wants. His eyes wandered over to her exposed breasts. Great. I insecurely looked down at my NORMAL sized ones and reddish brown hair. Figures only guys go for the fake and barbie.
Sam smiled politely, "Also, may I get another coffee?"
"...Sure thing doll face."
HA! That's not funny at all. Blonde and seemingly perfect winked both at the boys, before merely glaring at me. I get it. She's jealous that I'm in the booth with them while she's out there in a crappy uniform made for fifteen year olds. I know, I know, them bitches be crazy! Once she turned her back, Dean shot Sam a look as if saying, 'I'm going to get laid tonight'. Sam just rolled his eyes, returning to the newspaper in front of him. That's why he's my best friend. Brother number two is dedicated to one and ONE girl only. Unlike Johnny Cash over here.
I couldn't help but stare at Dean's face, more pie suddenly finding it's way on. Would he get uncomfortable if I were to lean over and clean it off? It's not like I'd lick it off. Don't get any kinky ideas, alright? Sam noticed my creeperish stares, for he smirked mockingly. Yes, Sam does know my infatuation with Dean. He later claimed that even Castiel isn't oblivious to it all. How embarrassing.
"What'chya starin' at?"
"You got pie on your face."
"No, on the other side."
"Did I get it?"
"Dammit, let me get it!" Without another doubtful thought, I lunged forward, my finger making contact with his smooth cheek. Oh lord, it's even better than I imagined. Dean looked completely surprised, he jumped back a bit, however relaxed at my touch.
Sam rolled up the worn out newspaper, "I hope you're not going to eat it, Sara. Who knows where Dean's face been." Ouch! A blow to the crotch. Brother number one scoffed, probably hearing better insults coming from a nine year old kid.
The word slowly slipped off his beautiful tongue, "Bitch."
"Jerk." Sam has been through this before. It kinda makes me feel out of the loop, the brotherly bonding. Since I have no sister of my own, or sibling for that matter, I decided to hang out with these morons. Could have worked alone...but once Dean 'accidently' ran his 67 Impala into my old pick up truck, I was hooked.
I agreed with my best friend, "Certainly don't want to find out either...besides, I hate pie. Cake is SO much better than that pizza wannabe."
Dean's eyes harden at my harsh but true opinion, "You must be mistaken. Pie is the best god damn thing on this entire planet, and my face is just as good as it is freakishly sexy." Can't debate with that. Sam tried his best to snort back a laugh, however, it failed. What's so funny? Dean wanted to know too.
"I hope you're laughing at yourself." Very threatening.
The tall handsome man hunter shook his head in reply, struggling for the right words in this type of situation, "No. Are you cheating on the Impala with pie?" Ha! Owned once again! He's on a roll! Dean glowered in the silence, possibly thinking of placing a plastic fork in Sam's mouth on the ride out of here. How do I know such a plan? It's simple, really, I've been with the Winchester boys WAY too much.
Watching the stupid waitress waltz back to the table like a strip dancer at a bar, I announced something that surely would drive the little bitch away, "You know, guys, sometimes you got to learn to stop banging each other in the back seat." Outrageous, yes, brilliant, of course! My friends cast me bewildered expressions, total WTF plastered on their clean faces-well one clean face.
Miss 'Hooker/Poser/Barbie/B.I.T.C.H hastily placed the cup of coffee and freshly baked pie on the crumbly surface before us. Her eyes lowered, not wanting to make any contact. Dean groaned in realization, I wasted him a date...more like one night stand.
"I'm getting off of work right about now...so you can give the check to the lady in front." She slid the greasy paper on the table, number obviously scribbled on. Oh? Thinking ahead were you? Dean winked at the waitress, completely letting the fact go how I tried to ruin his evening.
Sam interrupted the conversation, "It's alright, we'll be going now anyway. Here you go..." The blasted green money floated out of the Winchester's wallet, into the lotion hands of Dean's weekend 'girl'. Heh...her name is Candy. I'm pretty sure that's her service name, and I don't mean food service. Nudge, nudge.
Candy pointed her unnecessarily long nails at the bill, "That number? It's not mine. One of my co-workers wrote on it as a joke...so yeah, please don't call it. Have a good night!" Running as far as her high heels could take her, sweet Candy flung off her uniform revealing a pair of tight jeans and a small pink tank top. My jealously greatened at the string of drool escaping Dean's lips.
Gone. Told you it would work!
Dean stared down at the now loss cell phone number, "Why'd you do that, Sara? I needed some fun for a change."
"That girl isn't right for you. She's a whore." I replied calmly.
Sam commented, "We all know how our Dean loves those whores." Yes, that may be true, but the phase should run thin any time now! Don't believe me? You'll see, you'll all see! An angel (Castiel) thinks it could happen! This is right! God never lies. Okay, that's a bad example.
Brother number one is not happy, not one bit, "Why are you guys such bitches tonight? Sara? You on your monthly call again?" PERIOD. Sending him a snotty glare that could make a demon cry, I snapped, "No. I think your act of feeling up random girls is getting old."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Listen, I gotta piss. Don't do anything while I'm gone." He glided out of the booth, to the male's bathroom, where a couple of sluttier females were surrounding. Wonderful. Sam turned to me when Dean disappeared from view, sarcastic eyebrows raised, "Dude, you're so whipped."
I shouted with utter surprise, "WHAT? I'm not whipped? Dean Winchester? Geez...just because you know Ilike him, doesn't mean I love him." Did I forget to mention the L word to Sam? It never came up in the heart ripping confession. Brother number two wasn't convinced. I knew he wouldn't, he's the smart one in the family.
"Nope. You're whipped, get over it."
After Dean returned from the stinky one man restroom and skanky women, we left. Thank God, I don't think I could have handled the countless smoking and drinking that place supports. A cold breeze floated in the Impala as Dean quickly rolled down the window. For some reason beyond me, Dean adores winter air. Freak.
Sam complained, "Dude! Roll up the windows! I can't afford another cold!"
"Stop being such a pansy."
Rolling my eyes, I smacked Dean's masculine hands away from the handle, "Concentrate on your driving for once, Hot Rod." That only earned me a look he always gives me when I supposedly act like an annoying mother whose kid is going to school for the first time. How offensive.
Brother one turned up the radio, AC/DC blaring in the background. What great timing. Perfect actually,Thunderstruck manages to get my 'not' man in a rather good mood.
I was caught
In the middle of a railroad track (Thunder!)
I looked 'round
And I knew there was no turning back (Thunder!)
My mind raced
And I thought what could I do? (Thunder!)
And I knew
There was no help, no help from you (Thunder!)
I couldn't help my head bob happily to the music while Dean began smacking his hands on the steering wheel. Sam gazed out the window, oblivious to the artist's magic. Sorry, but Sammy is more into Ipods. Wow, Dean would murder me if he could read minds. I called Sam by his nickname, and apparently only the older brother can address him as that. Scary.
"Come on Sara! Do something useful and sing the truth!" Dean cried out in excitement. Is he serious? My voice is equal to a mating whale. Horrible and off pitch. What does he mean by 'something useful?' I do USEFUL things all the time! Not a few days ago, I saved Dean's ass from being grilled to a spot by an Arch Angel.
Sam defended, "Sara has done a lot more things than you have, brother."
Dean made a sharp left turn, causing me to almost fly out the window, "Oh yes, the usual reloading and breaking guns is very useful in our line of work, Sammy." I gasped. What an asshole. Why am I in love with him again? Right, sexy body, face, smell and over all well being. His attitude I must work on though. The rest of the reckless ride to the hotel was silent, each planning up some cruel insults to say later. Ah, good old times.
"Hey! Hey! Sara! Get your ass up! We're here!"
Trying but failing miserably to wipe off the puddle of drool that decided to bless the side of my face, I glanced up to see the most heavenly sight out there. No, not Castiel. Mister Winchester. His deep green eyes bored into my dark brown ones, as if they were seeing the real me. Everything behind the walls of humor and little emotion I built up.
He continued on with his alarm system, "Sam already went inside to catch a few Z's. You wanna do that too or do you wanna stay in my car and die from the cold? Either way is fine with me."
I stammered, much to my dismay, "I'll come in. Your stupid car isn't comfortable on my back anyway." I chose to ignore the daggers Dean threw into my back as I strolled inside. This is for certain, Dean doesn't like me in anyway. Castiel! You lied!
"I have done no such thing."
There he is, the fallen angel who still hasn't found his way. Castiel rested upon my bed, watching Sam sleep soundlessly. I always thought that was creepy, but it's okay. No slash here. I poked his tax man like trench coat, "Angels can't tell the future. You were probably saying that crap to make me feel better."
Castiel winced, cursing new to him, "You are well aware what angels can and cannot do. It's meant to happen, you and Dean."
"Oh? Really? Do the stars say it?"
"That kind of work is devil magic."
I sighed, "Whatever man. Go bother someone else with your angelic creepiness, I need sleep." The angel shrugged his tired shoulders moments later, before disappearing into the night. Little did I know another thing was about to happen that kinda could change my stay with the Winchester brothers.
Munch, munch, munch, munch.
Ugh. What the hell is that?
Munch, munch, munch, munch.
Sounds like someone is eating, any guesses who? Clumsily prancing out of bed, I was careful not to wake the stressed Sam a few feet away from me. Our investigation is tomorrow, and I doubt people will think that he's an FBI agent with bags under his eyes like so.
Peering into the mini kitchen, I saw that the lamp was on. Dean's bed is empty. You do the math. Late night snack, hm? Gosh, he's going to get fat. I don't want a fat husband. Hey! Wait a sec! Doesn't scaring the shizz out of people burn carbs? Works for me! Creeping forward, I reached out to lightly tap Dean's unexpecting shoulder.
"AHHHHH! WHAT THE FUCK!"
I regained my gut busting composure, "You should have seen your face! All scared and-wait. You have pie on your freaking face again." Dean smirked, probably knowing this.
He replied, "Yeah. What of it?"
"Wipe it off."
Feeling frustrated, I reenacted quite wildly. Seriously. I did something I never would have had the courage to do, very odd, seeing as I go up against evil creatures mostly everyday. Let me fill you in on what exactly I took part in. Leaning forward, I stuck out my tongue and licked Dean's face clean off the nasty apple pie. Ew.
Dean was more shocked than I was, of course, "You just licked my face."
I wiped my mouth on a random nearby napkin, "Yes."
"Because you weren't going to do it yourself."
Brother number one raised one eyebrow, suggesting dirty thoughts, "I would lick myself? Hardly think that's possible." Eh...actually it is very possible. The face however, isn't one of the best access points, if you know what I mean. Damn it! I've been with him for too long! I'm a Dean girl! (Girl who acts like a perverted Dean, see rest of dictionary definition on page 66).
When nothing more was said, I tried to high tail my sorry ass out of there. However, Dean had other plans. He grasped my arm, only slightly using his strength. Baby, I would throw myself in front of a moving train if you told me to. Wow, bad pick up line. (Aka, Sam's attempt at flirting).
Man, I'm a lot more awesome in my head. Maybe if I show that side of me, Dean wouldn't be able to resist this hot piece of meat. Ha. No. So here I am, staring at him like he was growing fifty billion eyes. Fifty beautiful billion green eyes, that is. Let's make it lips too. Speaking of those mother fuckers, what are they doing? Smiling in that troublesome way, showing sign of danger. Why is he leaning over? Uh, uh, WHY are his smooth full lips pouting? Mission impossible music urged to leak out of my vivid ears. Only in conflicts like these, would music tap itself into my own business. I have two options. Run or let the hormonal man kiss the life out of you. Last one seems very promising.
Dean's lips pressed against mine, wanting to gain the invisible power. Although his breath reeked of that horrible dessert, it didn't ruin the experience. Such an amazing experience it was. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Dean broke away.
One word exploded from my hazy insanity, "Ughgnhfgr—Fudge."
Dean chuckled from amusement, "What was that?"
More silence went by. Great. He's regretting it now. By tomorrow morning, it'll be like the kiss never happened and I'll be left out in the dust. Another one bites the dust! BAM! Queen, go away. Might as well end this with a proper rejection speech,
"Pie isn't that great, Dean Winchester."
The hunter of my dreams looked over at me, this time not growling or glaring at me. His expression read no trance of anger. In fact, he looked somewhat giddy. Weird.
Dean pushed the half eaten pizza wannabe away, attention fully on little old me, "You know what? I'm starting you think your right, Sara."