((Scene contains situations of an adult nature. If this offends, please don't read.)) _________________________

Dean was getting restless. Anyone with eyes to see could recognise that, and it wasn't exactly made any better by the fact that every hunter who had passed through Morgan's Landing in the last four days had taken with them the news that one of the Winchesters was alive and well. It wouldn't be long before the supernatural community at large got hold of that information. Nim could tell that Dean was about a hair's breadth from pacing the floor like a caged animal, but wasn't quite ready to move on yet. If she was the reason he was holding himself back, he didn't need to - she already had a bag packed, ready to be grabbed at a moment's notice if he were to announce his intent to leave.

Still, even prepared, it left a lot of time to fill, and as much as she wanted a repeat of their early morning together, she was trying to behave herself. Brian had looked vaguely sickened by the goofy grin on her face when they'd met outside the bathroom after dawn, and for his sake, she was attempting not to light up in a glow every time Dean so much as looked at her. But the Landing was too quiet, there was hardly anyone there, and she needed some way to fill the time.

Leaning far over the edge of the pool table, she squinted down the length of the cue stick, taking careful aim. "You are so going down, princess," she informed her opponent with a flicker of a grin, taking her eyes off the cue as she hit, confident that the striped ball would thump into the intended pocket without a fuss. Which it did. Nim straightened, leaning on her cue stick as she looked over the table. "Regretting laying a bet on this yet?"

Dean huffed at her remark, watching the striped ball drop into a pocket, thinking the shot was an easy one. He was as confident of his skills with a pool cue as he was with a .45. Over-confident maybe, but he wasn't really worried about winning or losing. He figured he'd come out on top either way. "No regrets. That's my motto." Yeah, right. And if you believe that one, he's got some swamp land to sell you in Florida.

He wasn't regretting anything so far since his arrival here, and he sure as hell wasn't regretting making love to her earlier that morning. Bobby had issued a warning to be careful, but had said nothing more on the subject, shaking his head and muttering something about fool ijits with overactive hormones. He and Dean had found a little time to talk, while Brian and Nim were getting the bar open and ready for the day, and Dean had told him what he'd been thinking, but Bobby had no thoughts on the matter just yet. He'd told Dean he needed a little more to go on than that, but Dean had no other clues to offer just yet, and the subject had been dropped. Bobby knew Dean well enough to know he was getting antsy and needed some answers, and he was worried what would happen when Dean finally decided it was time to go find them out for himself.

Nim flashed him a laughing smile, amused by the way he was still insisting she was going to lose despite the fact that she'd sunk two with the break, and hadn't missed yet. But then, that was part of the fun, right' Walking around the table, she laid a hand against his chest to give him a gentle shove back, turning to bend over the table once again. "Out of the way, you," was offered in a voice perhaps a little too intimate for the public bar, but then, there were more buttons undone on her shirt than were exactly appropriate for the public bar, too. She had to win somehow.

He couldn't help but smirk as she shoved him out of the way, stumbling back a step, eyes following her as she moved past him, admiring her form and figure, feeling just a little bit smug that she belonged to him. At least, that's how he figured it, especially after what had happened between them earlier in the day. He was still enjoying the afterglow of their romantic interlude, in good spirits, despite the worries on his mind, determined not to let anything ruin their evening. He reached for the beer he'd left standing on the edge of the table, smirking as he watched her line up the next shot. "Let me know when you're finished, princess," he said, stealing her pet name for him and turning it around on her. He took a swig of the beer, the cue stick resting backwards against his shoulder.

Over by the bar, Brian was watching them with half-an-eye, still engrossed in a conversation with Bobby that seemed to have taken the last three days just to get to the juicy part. It wasn't that he didn't trust Dean, but Nim was the closest thing he had to family. If she got hurt, Brian would hurt Dean. Simple as that.

Bobby couldn't very well promise that Dean wouldn't hurt Nim. The guy didn't exactly have the best track record with relationships, but he could tell by the way he looked at her that there was something different this time, something special going on between them, and Bobby had gone ahead and shared with Brian what Dean had already shared with him - that Dean suspected he and Nim's lives were linked somehow and that whoever had brought her here had done the same to him.

Fully aware of Dean's eyes on her - and loving it - Nim made sure her spine curved just that little bit deeper as she bent to take the next shot, her shirt riding up a little way to offer a glimpse of pale skin. Having the nickname hijacked, however, made her laugh, and with that laugh, she missed, straightening up with an indignant pout. "Decided whether you're gonna use will-power or handcuffs?" she asked him sweetly.

"If you're trying to distract me, you're doing a pretty good job," Dean told her, lowering the beer to admire the view. He couldn't help but let his mind wander to what it would be like to take her right there on the pool table, late at night when no one was around, and he had to stifle a shudder at the thought. If his mind continued along that track, she'd already won. His eyes moved over her, lingering longer than necessary on the hint of pale flesh that lay beneath her partially unbuttoned shirt. "I'm not particularly fond of handcuffs myself, but if you're into that sort of thing, I might make an exception."

"All depends on whether you can keep your hands to yourself when I win, doesn't it?" she teased through a knowing grin. He wasn't the only one entertaining thoughts of what other games could be played on this table, after all. Her fingers wrapped about his beer bottle as she stepped close. "In case you hadn't noticed, it's your shot."

He smirked again and tweaked her nose playfully. "Nice try, sweetheart, but I was talking about using the cuffs on you." He let her take the beer from his hand, eyes tracking her as she got closer. "I noticed." He slung the cue stick off his shoulder, rolling it in his hands before stepping away from her toward the table.

"Watch and learn from the master," he quipped, pausing a moment to look the table over. She was good, better than he'd expected, but he was confident he was better. His expression changed, turning serious as he rounded the table, looking for the number one ball and his best chance of knocking it into a pocket.

Nim watched, amused and impressed by the way he could switch the flirtation off to concentrate on the game. She wasn't above admiring the view, either, aware of Brian's gaze occasionally flickering over to them and ignoring it. It was none of his business what was going on so long as it didn't interfere too much. Besides, it was fun to tease Dean when they both knew he didn't dare come onto her too overtly. Not in front of both gossiping old men at the bar.

"Oh, master, I'll bet you have lots to teach me," she moaned for his ears only, setting the beer back on the corner of the table as she leaned on her cue stick once more.

Annoyed with himself, not for missing the shot, but for almost flubbing her name, Dean turned his back on her to retrieve his beer, not noticing the two hunters come in. They were just hunters, like everyone else, no one special. He picked up his beer and took a long swallow, only taking notice of the two newcomers when he realized one of them was hitting on his girl. Dean lowered the bottle, turning to watch Rob with narrowed eyes, clearing his throat loudly to let the man know he was an unwelcome intruder. "Excuse me, but how can I put this nicely' Buzz off."

Rob only grinned, stronger than Nim as was evidenced by how easily he shrugged off her attempts to get him to let go. His arms wrapped about hers as he moved to press a kiss to her neck, somewhat thwarted when she leaned as far away as she could. "Hey, what?s the deal, babe?" he laughed, ignoring Dean completely as the interloper in his story. "Didn't even miss me a little?" One hand moved to skim over her curves, but blatantly rose away to avoid feeling the scars under her shirt.

Nim flushed, embarrassed and humiliated, struggling to get free of a man who seemed to think two nights made a commitment. "I mean it, Rob, get your hands off," she insisted, her eyes lifting to meet Dean's with deep apology for the other hunter's behavior. "I'm not your babe, I never was."

Oh, it was going to be one of those nights, was it' Dean sighed, annoyed and starting to lose his patience. Despite that, he calmly finished off his beer. No sense in letting a good beer go to waste. He wagered the douchebag wasn't going to try anything too forward while Brian was in earshot and Dean had no intentions on letting the guy take Nim anywhere private if he had anything to say about it. He calmly set his beer down and leaned his cue stick against the table. To be fair, Dean thought one night did mean a committment here, but Nim had told him she loved him, and he was guessing from her reaction to this guy that her feelings were less than amorous.

Dean turned back to the pair, green eyes flashing a warning. "Are you deaf or just stupid" She said to get off, Rob." He emphasized the man's name just for good measure. If he ignored him a second time, he deserved what he got in return.

Nim winced at the flash in Dean's eyes. She might not recall having seen it before, but she knew what it meant. Before she could say anything, however, Rob's eyes had lifted to meet Dean's, just as cocky but with entirely misplaced confidence. "Who's the boy toy, babe?" he asked the young woman still slightly imprisoned in his arms, evidently not at all good at taking 'no' for an answer. "Don't tell me you spread your legs for someone else while I was out of town?"

"Boy toy?" Dean echoed, chuckling mirthlessly. "I was hunting when you were just a twinkle in your mama's eyes, so watch who you're calling boy." He slowly rounded the table until he was standing within arm's reach of the man and Nim. "She told you twice to let her go. If I have to ask, I won't be so polite."

"She's just playin' around," Rob informed Dean, his eyes cold despite the boyish smile playing at his lips. "She likes to play these little games, don't you, babe? Likes to pretend she's frigid until she gets all drunk and teary." There was a thump from near the bar - Brian had begun to advance on the little scene himself, his expression livid.

For Nim's part, she couldn't imagine this scene getting any worse. It was bad enough that Rob was behaving like a dick, but she could smell the alcohol on his breath, and knew that he wasn't going to do the wise thing and back off while he could. She stood, stiff and tense in the arms of a man she had been hoping wouldn't get back to Chicago until after she'd left with Dean, and hoped like hell she wasn't about to get caught in the middle of a fist fight.

Dean's eyes flashed, seething with anger. He would love nothing better than to beat the crap out of the man, but he wasn't going to risk hurting Nim in the process. He spied Brian advancing from the corner of an eye and knew Bobby probably wasn't far behind. Dean stepped as close as he possibly could without risking Nim getting hurt. "Last warning. I'm not gonna tell you again." He was just about in the younger man's face and knew he was probably going to have to play dirty in order to get Nim away from him. "You wanna fight about it, let's take it outside."

Caught between the two men as Dean stepped right up, Nim winced again, realizing it was probably up to her to at least get out of the way. As Rob laughed in Dean's face, stupidly not seeing the mess he'd put himself in, she twisted, ramming her bony elbow back into Rob's diaphragm. He grunted, the breath rushing from his lungs, and his arms loosened, giving her a chance to get free of him. "You insane b*tch, what was that for?"

With Nim's elbow to Rob's chest, Dean had his chance to clock the man, but before he could do that he had to make sure she was safe. Putting her safety first, he lunged forward to grab hold of her and get her out of the man's way, pushing her safely behind him where hopefully she would retreat toward Brian, who in turn would make sure she remained at a safe distance. "That was for not listening the first time," Dean answered Rob's question for her.

Pushing Nim out of the way effectively managed two things, one in Dean's favor, and one not so much. It kept Brian from getting involved, the older man lunging to catch the young woman as she stumbled and over-balanced, trying to reverse her course and stop the fight before it started. He held onto her himself - as much as Brian didn't like knowing that Nim had made her choice and it was Dean, he liked Rob even less for not really having given her that choice when it was him.

The second ....well, that showed itself in Rob's fist plunging toward Dean's jaw as the other hunter straightened up, his hand bunched loosely as he drew himself to his full height. "Get your hands off my girl, boy toy."

Dean had taken a chance in worrying about Nim first, allowing the younger man to get the first shot, which connected with Dean's jaw hard enough to knock him stumbling backwards, but not off his feet. Dean rubbed his jaw as he regained his balance, not bothering to waste any more time exchanging barbs with the man. He curled both hands into fists and came at Rob with a right hook to his jaw, followed quickly by an uppercut with his left to the man's middle. He was just a hunter, after all. Easy as pie. Unless the man came back at him with demonic black eyes, Dean wasn't really worried.

For all his noise, Rob was a hunter, too, and getting the first shot in gave him a chance to brace for the returning blows. All the same, he still found himself stumbling back with a bleeding lip and bruised ribs, even as he balled his fist again.

It was at this point that one of the other hunters in the bar, a man closer to Bobby's age than anyone else, drawled mildly, "You sure that's wise, son' That's Dean Winchester you're proposin' on fightin'."

"It ain't your fault, either." It wasn't Nim who spoke, but Brian, rising out of his resumed conversation with Bobby to involve himself in something that wasn't really his business. He eyed Dean pointedly, daring the younger man to hold onto a bad mood that was not of his making. "Find some privacy and ask her how he got to thinkin' she was his," he suggested, ignoring Nim's quiet protest against this suggestion, continuing over the top of her glare. "And keep in your head that he hunts because of the power rush, mostly. I'm not sayin' Rob's a bad man, 'cos he's not. But he's got twists that ain't worth worryin' yourself over beatin' out of him."

Dean looked over at Brian when the man piped in, worrying he thought less of him now that he had taken Nim to bed, but he wasn't Rob. He didn't want a one-night stand. They hadn't slept together just for the sex. Or so he tried to tell himself. It was just as well Brian was suggesting they find someplace to talk. He seemed suddenly all too aware of the eyes that were staring, not just Bobby's and Brian's, but other hunters in the bar, faces he didn't know, but who seemed to know him, if only by name and reputation, and he suddenly felt like he was suffocating.

"You wanna get outta here for a while?" he asked Nim, taking Brian's suggestion one step further. He didn't really care where they went, even if it was just out to the car to sit for a while. He had to get out of there and soon.

Tearing her impotent glare from Brian, knowing he'd just managed to back her into sharing details she didn't want Dean to know, Nim looked up at her lover, squeezing her arms about his waist once more as she nodded. "Yeah," she agreed, equally aware of the eyes on them, on him. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to be known by so many people he didn't even have names for. Her arms slid from about him, one hand insinuating into his palm as the other claimed the bottle of JD from the counter. "Let's go."

He sure as hell didn't feel like a hero; in fact, he felt like the exact opposite. He didn't want people looking up to him or putting him on some pedestal. He wasn't a hero; he was just a guy trying to survive and do the right thing. When would they understand that' Batman was a hero; Superman was a hero. He was just a hunter, that was all he was and all he'd ever be.

He turned back to Brian as Nim took his hand, knowing the man was probably not very happy with him right now. He was taking his little girl away from him, and Dean knew how that must hurt. "I'll have her home soon," he promised the man, glance darting to Bobby, who he knew was going to give him a long, hard talk come morning.

"Just keep her safe." That was it. No parting words of warning, no injunction to have her back before midnight. Brian knew when he'd lost, and he was gracious in defeat. He nodded to Dean, his gaze flickering to Nim, and turned back to Bobby, ostensibly dismissing the young pair from his mind.

Biting her lower lip hard, Nim rolled her eyes, gently pulling on Dean's hand to draw him out through the door and into the cool night air.

Dean had a feeling he knew how Brian felt. He knew Nim was like a daughter to him, and he felt guilty as hell to take her away, but in the end, it was Nim's decision to make, not his or Brian's. Unless Dean made it for her. He made no reply to the other man, a promise to keep her safe silently shared between them, and out he went, tugged along by Nim into the cool night breeze, which, though refreshing, stung at the swelling bruise on his cheek.

Pausing outside the door, Nim hesitated, looking up at him in concern. "I should have grabbed an ice pack," she said ruefully, releasing his hand for a moment to very gently trace the edge of the bruise on his jaw. "I can run and get one now, wouldn't be a minute." It was a strangely evasive offer; as much as she enjoyed privacy with Dean, she had a feeling he might well ask about Brian's allusion to Rob's methods, and she didn't want him any angrier this evening.

He wrapped his fingers around the hand that was tracing his jawline. It wasn't a big deal; he'd had far worse. The swelling and the bruises be gone soon enough. He was just glad the douchebag hadn't been stupid enough to draw a weapon. Things could have been a lot worse for everyone. "I'm fine, Nim. Don't worry so much." She, of all people, should know how much worse it could have been. If she was serious about going with him, hunting with him, she was going to have to get used to this and so, he realized, was he.

Her lips twisted into rueful smile as he caught her hand, knowing she was making a fuss over nothing. "All right," she agreed softly. "So where to' If you're drinking, I'm driving." And there was an odd inflection in her voice as she said it - if he wanted to argue the point, he could, but she would still ultimately be the one in the driving seat. If he decided they were going somewhere.

He frowned moodily down at her, but knew she was right. "I don't care," he replied, honestly. "I just need some air." He glanced up at the sky, almost as if seeing it for the first time. "The sky's the same here. Same stars, same moon." This seemed to surprise him for some reason. Wherever here was, it didn't seem much different from home, at least in appearance. He paused a moment to search the sky for a familiar constellation or two, but the city lights were too bright to make them out. "Me and Sam used to sit on the hood of the Impala for hours and just look at the stars." He wasn't sure why he was telling her that, but it somehow it seemed important. He felt that dull ache in his chest again, a heaviness at the thought of Sam.

Her eyes narrowed at the petulance in his tone, the heaviness he was expressing with moody indifference. "You don't care," she repeated after him in a dull voice of her own. "I call bullsh*t." Her hand twisted in his to take a firm hold, and she pulled him along with her, around the corner to the parking lot. The Impala was there, shining sleek and liquid beautiful even in the shadows beyond the artificial light.

With a strength she wasn't sure she should be using on Dean, Nim pulled him around until he was pressed back against his beloved car, pushing the bottle into his hand as she crowded up to him, all but glaring at him for being so recalcitrant with his problems. Her hand opened up between them, palm bare. "Keys or issues, your choice."

He furrowed his brows as he turned his head her way again, opening his mouth to argue with her, but then she was tugging him toward the parking lot and his baby with such vehemence that he didn't dare argue. "Getting a little bossy now that we started sleeping together, aren't you?" he asked, though there was no accusation in his voice, no inflection whatsoever. He sounded tired, emotionally drained. He'd bounce back eventually; he always did. He wasn't ready to toss in the towel just yet.

Glaring down at her from his height as she practically cornered him against his own car, he shoved a hand into his jeans pocket to yank out his keys and drop them in her hand, scowling at her. "Not one scratch," he warned, trading the keys for the bottle. In the last few days since he'd been there, it seemed he'd been riding an emotional roller coaster, and this was one of a few dips along the way.

Closing her fingers around the keyring as it was traded, Nim nodded, relieved he wasn't arguing with her. "I was bossy before, you just weren't paying attention," she informed him, unlocking the passenger door. "Get in." Lengthening her stride, she moved around to unlock the driver's door and slide in herself, closing up behind her as she inserted the key. She looked over at him, trying to be patient with his abrupt mood change and very aware that she was failing. A drive would do both of them a little good, hopefully. "Anywhere in particular?"

"I know." Her fingertips came to rest against his lips, unneeded as he stilled his own warning. It should have been frightening, this darker side of him that thought nothing of killing another hunter for something so inconsequential when compared with the actions of demons and beasts the world over. But Nim wasn't scared, convinced she could never been scared of Dean. "And he knows it, too."

She pressed a second kiss to his lips, longer than the first, but just as soft. "C'mon." She inched backward, reluctant to loose herself from that close lean even as she reached to open the door behind her.

There was something about her kiss that seemed to still his troubled heart, and he lingered for a moment against her lips, lost in her spell. He'd only been here a few days and already he couldn't imagine his life without her. Just thinking about it left an aching hole in his chest already heartsore with the death of his brother. He wasn't sure what she had in mind, but he followed her lead, grabbing the bottle of JD before pushing open the passenger door and climbing out.

With the keys stowed safely in her own pocket, Nim reached out to take his hand again as she moved out onto the dry, soft sand of the beach. She didn't know what to do, how to soothe him when he was obviously aching. She knew no words could possibly make his troubles any easier, which only left actions. He didn't seem quite ready to talk about the pain that was creasing his heart, which left her only one real course of action ....distraction.

Toeing out of her boots and socks, she turned to face him, backing slowly over the sand, one hand in his, the other rising to slowly undo the remaining buttons of her red shirt. Her lips flickered into a faintly challenging smile, daring him to stop her or join her.

He had no idea what she had in mind until she halted on the beach, her fingers moving to undo her shirt and it became obvious. He smiled a little and leaned down to kiss her, slightly amused by her obvious attempt to distract him and turn his mood around. He kissed her softly but briefly before pulling gently away. "Wait," he instructed, reaching into the pocket where she'd stowed his car keys. "I've got an idea."

His smile and kiss softened her own smile, calming her slight worry that his mood might be irretrievable. "What kind of idea?" she asked in a low grinning murmur, her fingers stilling before the last button fell open, swaying toward him as he drew his keys from her pocket.

"An awesome idea," he told her as he turned back toward the car, pulling open the passenger side door and sliding in. He set the bottle of JD, unopened, on the seat, and reached over to flick the radio on, searching for a station that was playing something suitable for the moment.

Finding a station that was playing oldies, he left it there, smiling a little to himself at his own cleverness. He turned the sound up loud enough that they'd be able to hear it on the beach - their own private party - and climbed back out, leaving the door open before returning to her. He wasn't much of a dancer - he'd never really had the opportunity to learn - but the moment seemed to call for it. He opened his arms to her as Frankie Valli started to croon across the beach. You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you. You're like heaven to touch, I want to hold you so much....Dean wrapped her in his embrace, while he sang along with the song.

Left alone on the sand, Nim's smile deepened as he presented her with a perfect view of his rear, unashamedly ogling him as she swayed herself from side to side. As the radio crackled to life, the volume raised until she could hear the tune, her eyes widened, an incredulous laugh escaping her lips.

"Are you asking me to dance, Dean Winchester?" she asked in amazement, her expression bright and fond as he enfolded her in his arms, wrapping herself to him without a second thought as her bare toes skimmed in the sand. As they moved together, she realized she could hear a second voice, tipping her head back to look up at him with a tender smile. He was singing to her. "You're incredible, you know that?"

He'd sung to her once before, sort of, but she hadn't been there. Sam had thought he was ridiculous, but that had been how it had all started. She'd played him a song on the jukebox, long ago and far away, and now, here they were. Even if he couldn't quite find the right words, the song told her everything she needed to know. Was it just a stroke of luck that that particular song had come on the radio at that moment, or was someone or something to blame"

He just smiled at her question and continued to sing, swaying slowly in time to the music with her under the moonlight. At long last, love has arrived, and I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you. The song all those years ago had been by REO Speedwagon, but tonight it seemed the Gods had picked the tune.

Tempting though it was, Nim made the bright decision not to destroy the mood by singing along to the instrumental break, though the temptation turned her tender smile more than a little bit impish as she nestled close. Her fingers crept high into his shirt, pulling him down to her as her lips closed over his. Whoever, whatever was watching over them, guiding them through the highs and lows of their mysteries, didn't seem to matter at that moment. Who cared if they were being watched" Entranced, intoxicated by this unexpectedly romantic side of Dean Winchester, Nim drew herself close, closer than close, caught up in the warm sway and taste and scent of him.

He stopped singing as the song reached the instrumental interlude, unable to continue if he wanted to as her lips were suddenly pressed against his. Lost in the sweet rapture of her kiss, the swaying came to a slow stop, and he pulled her up against him. Whatever had been eating at him just a short time ago had been forgotten again under the spell of her embrace. The song continued with the chorus, which seemed to echo what Dean was feeling, whether he wanted to put a name to it or not, but he was too lost in that heartfelt kiss to sing along.

I need you, baby, and if it's quite alright; I need you, baby, to warm the lonely nights. I love you, baby, trust in me when I say it's okay...

She didn't need him to sing along to know what he was saying to her. She felt it every time he looked at her with that certain expression in his green eyes, each time he teased her or laughed with her or cried with her. The words didn't really matter, not for her. She knew. Her hand crept higher to curl possessively at his neck as her lips parted, slowly deepening their kiss from sweet and loving to something fiercer, though no less gentle, the shift of her body against his pulling that last button open to allow her shirt to slide free, baring one shoulder to the contrasting heat of him in her arms and the cool breeze that brushed against them.

Actions speak louder than words, and he didn't need her to tell him what she wanted. His hands crept up her back beneath the blouse that was now hanging hanging off a shoulder, as their lips met, following her lead to deepen the kiss, savoring the sweetness of her mouth and lips. He kissed her until they were both out of breath, pulling away briefly to slide his hands against her shoulders and slip the blouse from her. "I thought you were worried about the sand," he reminded her, as he leaned in to trail a line of soft kisses against her neck, the blouse just barely hanging off one hand.

She swayed against him, warm and lit up from the inside as though it were Christmas just from the barest brush of his hands over her skin. Should she have been embarrassed, shy of standing on the beach with her shirt stripped from her" There was no room in her fizzing desires for any of that. Her breath ghosted over his ear as he trailed kisses against her skin, rising onto her toes with restless eagerness as she found purchase for kisses of her own. "There's always the back seat," she murmured playfully against his ear, very gently catching the lobe between her teeth and offering him up the growl she'd teased him with earlier.

It was right about then that the radio gods switched songs yet again. Another Cheap Trick song, but this one was the Dream Police. The Dream Police, they live inside of my head; the dream police, they come to me in bed; the dream police, they're coming to arrest me. A warning, perhaps"

Dean echoed her moan as she pulled away from him, nudging his chin toward her, to taste her lips once again. He thought he saw something out the corner of one eye, a sweeping light flashing from somewhere behind him, and his spidey senses kicked in.

"Crap," he muttered, pulling suddenly away from her kiss and glancing out the back window to find someone sweeping the area with a flashlight. Without further thought, he yanked his t-shirt up over his head and handed it to her. "Put this on," he told her as he made a lunge for the bra that was dangling over the driver's seat and shoved it quickly out sight beneath the cushions of the seat.

They couldn't arrest him for indecent exposure if he wasn't wearing a shirt, but she was another matter. He winced when he remembered the bottle of JD in the front seat, but thankfully they hadn't been drinking it, and it was too late to hide it now.

The sudden shift from lust to hurried cover up brought her abruptly out of her moaning frenzy, though there was nothing that could calm the heavy beat of her heart. Catching his shirt in her hands, Nim toppled to one side as she flailed to get into the garment, unable to keep herself from laughing at the sight of him hiding her bra out of sight. The shirt dropped over her head, covering her up just as the owner of said flashlight came close, tapping on the window beside Dean.

Blushing furiously, Nim leaned over the front seat to turn the radio down, her slender frame swamped by her lover's shirt, conveniently hiding the flail of her other hand as the forgotten bottle was pushed off the seat and out of sight itself.

Dean shot a quick glance around the car, relieved that Nim was quick enough to shove the bottle out of sight. He was smart enough to realize it was probably a beat cop patroling the area who stumbled across them parked on the beach after hours. With any luck, they'd get off with a warning. Dean shot Nim a warning look before turning to roll the window down.

Seeing his instincts were spot on, he flashed a polite smile for the patrolman. "Good evening, officer. Is there something wrong?" Playing dumb was sometimes a good plan. Polite was the way to go. Dean knew if the man searched the trunk, he'd be in deep doo-doo.

The warning look was enough to help Nim wipe the grin from her face as she lowered herself back to the seat beside Dean, the music from the radio now at a more reasonable level.

The patrolman bent down to look into the car as the window rolled down, presented with the sight of a young couple who were obviously guilty of getting carried away but quick enough not to get caught at it. His brow rose as he turned the flashlight onto them, noting the man's shirt on the woman and just about managing to hide his smirk. "Having a good night, sir?" he asked in amusement.

"Very good, sir," Dean replied, almost a little too enthusiastically, but with a completely straight face. "I'm sorry. Is there something wrong" Can we help you with something?" He feigned the most innocent look he could muster, which probably wasn't very convincing. He knew it was perfectly obvious what had been going on in the car, but he hoped the guy wouldn't be a prick about it. Young love and all that. "We were just going to go for a midnight swim."

"Just as well I caught you in time, then," the patrolman nodded knowingly, glancing between the pair of them once again. "Local city bylaws prohibit skinny-dipping, even after midnight. If you're after a swim, I'd suggest you go home and share a bath." Perhaps a younger man would have wanted to prolong this, but this cop had been on the beat for a good few years, and he'd seen enough young couples to last him a lifetime. "Is this your vehicle, sir?"

Dean frowned, further feigning innocence. "Oh, I'm sorry. We didn't see anything posted. My apologies, officer." Sharing a bath wasn't really all that bad an idea, if they didn't have to worry about Bobby or Brian overhearing them. Of course, there were motels aplenty, but Dean lacked one significant thing and that was cash. A couple more games in some bar where no one knew him should take care of that problem for a while. "Yes, sir. She's mine. She belonged to my dad." If he was lucky, the man liked classic cars as much as he did. Dean reached for Nim's hand to give her a reassuring squeeze.

The patrolman nodded, finally breaking his accustomed stern expression to smile in appreciation of the beautiful car. "What year is she" '69?" The beam of the flashlight swept the length of the Impala's side as he studied her.

Inside, Nim bit the inside of her cheek, incredibly close to bursting out laughing all over again as the warning from a policeman turned into two men admiring a car. Her fingers curled into Dean's as she drew her knees up to her chest, touching her cheek to his shoulder.

Her movement attracted the patrolman's attention, drawing him back from his admiration for the Impala. "Oh yes," he added, lifting his other hand into view to show off something he had found on the beach. "I take it these are your boots, miss?"

Her eyes flickered to Dean as she bit harder into her lip, somehow managing to answer the cop without laughing. "Uh, yes. Yes, they are, thank you."

"'67," Dean corrected, giving Nim's hand another squeeze when he noticed the look on face, tossing her a warning look and a quick shake of his head. She had no idea what was in trunk and hence didn't know if the patrolman got curious enough to ask for Dean to open it, they'd be in big trouble. Or at least, he would. Dean reached for the pair of boots, unsure if the officer wanted him to take them or not. "Thanks, officer. We forgot about those!" He forced another smile, trying not to look nervous.

"'67," the cop repeated, handing over the boots without a second thought. He assumed that the giggly response from the young woman was in direct correlation to having been caught, far from Dean's worry that it might rouse his suspicions. His gaze turned back to Dean. "Well, you two have a safe journey home, then," he said, offering that as much in warning as advice. "Try not to leave any more personal items in public places." With a nod to Dean, he stepped back, waiting patiently to see them off before resuming his beat.

Nim swallowed her laugh once again, squeezing Dean's hand in hers before releasing him. "You drive," she murmured, offering a shy smile to the cop as she took her boots back from her lover.

"Thank you, officer," Dean remarked, flashing another smile. "Have a good evening!" He rolled up the window and breathed a sigh of relief, shoving a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the seat. "That was close."

He turned his gaze to her. "You almost gave us away!" he exclaimed, though the remark was unfounded. It could have been a lot worse. All the man would have had to do is ask a few questions Dean couldn't answer and look around a little harder. "What about your shirt?" he asked, peering out the window into the darkness.

"Me?" She let the giggle out quietly, leaning against him to peer onto the beach herself. "I guess it must've blown away," she murmured, glancing at the figure of the cop lingering nearby. "We should get going before he decides to take a closer look at the car." It never occurred to her that her giggles might have seemed suspicious; most women caught in a compromising position would turn giggly rather than sullen.

She slid easily over the seat to mould against his side, her feet falling from the dash as her hand took up a quietly possessive rest on his thigh. "I think I know what you mean," she said softly. "Brian tried for a year to keep me away from hunting, but I felt the call. It's what I'm meant to do, and if I'm meant to do it, then you've gotta be. But living the Life doesn't mean you can't have a little normal to balance it out."

"Like dancing on the beach and making out in the Impala?" he asked, flashing an ironic smile at her before looking back to the road. "I learned a long time ago that you have to live for today, in case there is no tomorrow." There was apparently no tomorrow for Sam, but Dean had the rest of his life in front of him, however long that might be. "Nim....I've been thinking..."

Nim laughed softly, nestling close into his side as she glanced up at him. "Exactly," she agreed warmly. "I might not have learned that so very long ago, but I came close enough to not having any more tomorrows to know that a lot better than I could ever have wanted to." She soothed the reminder of her apparent death in his memory with a kiss to his jaw. Her voice lowered to an intimate murmur as she smiled fondly. "And you've given me a lot to live for." She lifted her head as she heard her name, looking up at him with lovingly curious eyes. "Yeah?"

They had come to the crux of the matter in his mind, and even though they'd discussed the future before, he needed to lay it all out and get it straight in both their heads. He frowned a little, but not out of sadness. His mood had turned serious, and her words touched him deeply. Even though he couldn't express his feelings the way she could, he still felt that same tug at his heartstrings when he thought of her. The kiss to his jaw gave him the encouragement he needed to plunge onward.

"I need to go to Lawrence." Lawrence, Kansas, that is. The place of his birth, the place where it all began, and apparently, where his life here had ended.

She didn't need a moment to think it over, not even to ask him why. This decision had been made the moment she had realized just what it was she felt for him, the preparation already done in the days since. She had even begun her goodbyes to Brian, who accepted her choice, even if he didn't openly approve of it. "Then that's where we're going," she told him simply, nodding her agreement.

He wasn't sure why he was bringing it up now, in the car on the way to a parking lot to make out, but the sooner the better. He wanted to be as open and honest with her as possible, learning from the mistakes of his past, perhaps. "I wanted to ask you to come with me, but..." He paused, hearing her insist she was coming whether he asked her to or not, it seemed. "I don't know what I'm going to find there, but..." He broke off again, unsure how to explain why he felt the need to go there. Maybe it was just to pay his respects and say goodbye to Sam; maybe it was something more.

Her fingers stroked against his thigh gently as she looked up at him, aware that this conversation would determine whether or not she was going to Lawrence in the Impala, or hitch-hiking along behind him. "Do you really think I'm going to let you go anywhere alone?" she asked softly. "Unless you specifically need to be alone, I'm sticking to you like glue, Dean Winchester."

"Sound like a stalker," he replied, tilting a glance at her with a small smirk. He knew if he wanted to he could probably sneak away without much trouble, though she'd most likely hunt him down and tear him a new one when she found him. "It's not a pleasure trip," he continued, pulling his arm away from her temporarily so he could turn right on Lincoln Park.

She rolled her eyes, vaguely offended that he felt the need to tell her that. "Really?" she drawled with deep sarcasm. "I thought maybe we were going to have a picnic." She turned warm eyes onto him with a faint smirk. "I know it's not a pleasure trip, Dean, okay' And I'm still coming along, stalker or not."

He pulled into the parking lot finally and into a spot, choosing one that wasn't out in the open, but toward the back where hopefully no one would find or bother them. "It's just....I need to say goodbye to Sam. I need to..." He sighed, not sure he wanted to talk about this now and darken the mood. He turned off the engine, but left the keys where they were, wishing they were back at the beach. It had been so pretty there, with the moonlight shining off the water, so calm and peaceful.

"Shh ..." She twisted, rising onto one knee on the seat to comb her fingers through his hair. Her forehead came to rest against his, the tip of her nose circling his fondly. "You don't need to explain this to me," she promised in a soft voice. "I'm not asking you to tell me anything you're not ready to." Her other hand rose to smooth her palm against his cheek, gazing into his eyes tenderly.

He felt his heart ache with grief, turning his body to face her, closing his eyes as he felt her hand touch his cheek, her touch soothing his troubled heart, even as heavy as it felt at Sam's death. "I promised Dad I'd take care of him," he said quietly, unsure why he was telling her this now, needing to tell someone and there was no one he trusted more than her.

The pain in his eyes, his voice, cut deep into her as she gathered him close, letting him say what he needed to say even as she caressed her fingers tenderly through his hair and over his cheek. "You didn't break that promise," she murmured softly, though there was no real way she could know that. All she knew was that in this world, he had not failed to take care of his little brother. "It wasn't you who said yes to Michael, and you don't know the circumstances of that. Some things just happen, no matter what we want to change."

She was wrong - or he thought she was wrong - he had failed Sam and his father more than once, but he didn't want to argue about it now, especially since she had no way of knowing the truth except for what he told her. This Jo didn't know Sam from Adam. He drew comfort from her, curling into her embrace, his bare skin chilled by the night, though he made no complaints. "I want you to come with me," he admitted, shocking himself with the honesty of that statement. He slid his arms around her slender waist, resting his chin against her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her mingled with his own that lingered on the t-shirt.

Drawn closer into his arms, she wrapped her own about him, fingertips tender in a soft caress over his chilled skin as she returned his embrace, breathing the scent of him in with the same breath as he did her. "I'll be here," she promised fiercely, her voice barely more than a whisper. "As long as you need me."

Forever, he whispered silently in his head. But how long was forever" Was forever made up of days, weeks, months, years" Forever hadn't been very long for his parents, but he swore he wasn't going to make the same mistakes they had. No deals with demons, no matter what. They were lying, cheating bastards who never kept their bargains, and angels weren't much better. If she was going to follow him, he was going to have to have that conversation with her sometime soon, but not now.

He drew a breath as he lifted his head, his fingers in caress of her cheek. "Brian's going to hate me for taking you from him."

"Well, you've got me." Fervent, fierce, fiery in her determination to make sure he knew that fact, not merely at an academic level but right down to his toes. Her hands curled softly to his jaw, thumbs stroking over his skin with possessive tenderness as she leaned in to touch her forehead to his, wrapping intimate silence all around them in the darkness of the shadow-covered Impala. Her lips curved in a playful smirk, unable to resist the tease that rose to the tip of her tongue. "Gonna take me now or later?"

A lopsided smile curled the corners of his lips at her question. "You mean like to consummate the relationship, or just because you can't wait any longer?" he teased, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers, unable to withhold the amusement from his voice. He had to admit she looked adorable in his t-shirt, even if she was only wearing it because he'd been stupid enough to leave her shirt on the beach. He'd make it up to her later, buy her a new one or something.

She giggled softly, the teasing between them smoothing the intensity of their renewed promises to one another. As loose as his shirt was on her, there was nothing beneath it, and that was blatantly obvious with the curl of his arms holding the fabric tight to her body. With the press of his forehead to hers, she tipped her chin forward a little, threatening to touch her lips to his but never quite making contact as she grinned to him. "You did say you'd take whatever you could get. You've got me, so ....when does the taking start?"

He chuckled at her response. Once again, the dark mood seemed to have passed, at least temporarily. It was hard to stay gloomy when she was around. Despite everything, her vibrant personality and sunny optimism always seemed to shine through, even when he was in the darkest of moods. "I thought maybe you'd prefer somewhere a little more....private." He brushed a strand of hair from her face, fingers grazing her cheek, forehead to forehead.

She eyed him with a wry smile, the expression matching the sweetly resigned drawl of her voice as she answered him. "You're going to make me wait, aren't you?" she accused him in a wry tone, rolling her eyes as she laughed quietly, drawing the pad of her thumb over his lips. "You're gonna leave me hanging for days until you work out just what is private enough for your peace of mind." It was a fond accusation, but an accusation nonetheless, however wide her grin as she spoke it.

"Peace of mind?" he repeated, laughing, the touch of her thumb tracing his lips strangely seductive, intoxicating, arousing even - a intimate and yet chaste touch all at the same time. "I'm not sure there is such a thing." She was right though. He suddenly found himself wanting to wait until they could be truly alone, which was unusual for him, a sign of maturity, perhaps. Maybe there was hope for him yet. But then, if she wanted to make out in the Impala, who was he to dissuade her" And teasing her was all too much fun.

"I think there is," she murmured, almost unaware of how her voice lowered to this tone, this soft for-his-ears-only, whenever he looked at her like that. "Even if it's only a few minutes at a time, I think everyone knows peace, even us." Again, her thumb stroked over his lips, her other hand turning to echo that gentle caress with the backs of her fingers. She wasn't pushing for anything. Was it really her fault that she couldn't keep her hands off him"

He felt that slow familiar coil of heating rippling outward from somewhere at the center of his being, joined by the flicker of flame she was kindling inside his chest. His eyes drifted closed once again as he savored her touch, unable to stifle a shudder of desire. He had a feeling they weren't going to make it back to the Landing.

Dark eyes watched as he shuddered under her touch, the tip of her nose gently circling his as she drew in a slow breath, feeling the coiling tendrils of her own desire stretching through her with the knowledge that he was responding to her. As her breath took over the gentle caress against his lips, the hand against his cheek trailed her fingers back along his jaw and into his hair as the other began a gradual creep downward over the warmth of his bare chest, savouring each smooth dip and line of his deliciously defined body. And yet she didn't kiss him, just watching to see how far he would let her go before he had to get involved.

He drew a slow intake of breath as her fingers trailed over his flesh. She was slowly re-igniting the fire that had burned itself out when the beat cop had so rudely interrupted their romantic interlude. It most likely wouldn't take long before he gave in and renewed the amorous attentions that had been only temporarily forgotten. "We should go somewhere..." he said, exhaling a soft sigh, her touch stirring both his desire, as well as a strange sense of contentment.

"Where?" was breathed back against his lips, still denying him that kiss as her eyes studied every nuance of his expression. Fingertips rippled in a tender caress through the hair at the back of his head, mimicking the gentle touch of her palm as her hand smoothed down over his abdomen. She inched her touch along the waistband of his jeans for an interminable moment before the tentative boldness of her hand dared to stroke the length of his zipper, cupping, squeezing tenderly. And then ....she sat back, a truly wicked grin on her lips as she looked him over.

"But you're probably right," she said, her voice dripping with husky laughter, denying herself the pleasure of him a while longer just to be able to tease this way. "I mean, we can hold on a while longer, can't we?" Her eyes sparkled playfully; they both knew the answer to that question.

His pulse quickened, and he tensed at her touch, not because he didn't want her, just the opposite. Because her touch was stirring that feeling of desire inside him once again and he wasn't sure how long he'd be able to resist or if he even wanted to. He bit his lip to stifle the groan that was threatening when she dared entice him further. No matter what his good sense might tell him, his body had a mind of its own. "Back home, you told me no. Something about self-respect."

He recognized the look on her face and knew she was teasing him, seducing him really. Tit for tat. This part of her was something he hadn't experienced or expected from her, something new, something tantalizingly irresistable.

She laughed again, walking her fingertips up over his thigh as she leaned her side against the seat comfortably, her other hand in the golden spill of her hair. "What did you do, give me the last night of the world speech?" she accused him, a faint flicker in her expression suggesting that, again, this had come from the blankness of her memory she could not access on whim. "Every night could be the last night." Her lips curved into that warm, wicked smile once again as she straightened a little, drawing her hands to the hem of his shirt, so voluminous on her slender form. "There are better ways to spend a night than sleeping, after all."

For some reason, he frowned as she reminded him of that fateful night - the night before he'd lost her. And he hadn't been mistaken. It had been someone's last night on Earth, just not his. Or at least, that's the way it had seemed, until he came here. "Yeah, I did. I guess it was a stupid thing to do." She didn't remember that night, not consciously anyway, and he wasn't sure it would do any good to remind her or explain how they really had thought it might be their last.

For someone who was usually on his toes and prided himself on not letting anyone get the jump on him, Dean was so lost in the afterglow of their love-making that he didn't even notice when that blanket appeared out of nowhere, until he heard the telltale whump behind them. He arched a single brow as he peered over his shoulder, looking as puzzled as she was. "Uh....not that I'm aware."

Eyeing the blanket warily, Nim felt her lips tightening into an amused smirk. "Well, if there is, it's not very good at what it does," she mused. "Providing a blanket for after sex snuggling doesn't really strike me as a demonic thing, though. Are angels into watching hunters?" Her smile deepened as her eyes turned back to him, the tip of her nose bumping to his teasingly.

He furrowed his brows, unsure how he felt about anyone watching them - for good or bad. He noticed the blanket on the seat behind them and became even more puzzled and concerned. Bobby had told him Cas was dead in this world, as far as he knew, and Dean could think of no one else of supernatural nature who might be inclined to help them. "The hell....Not that I'm aware of, and I'm not too thrilled about supernatural voyeurs," he said, raising his voice at the last part, for the sake of whoever might be watching.

Nim was purposely keeping her mind away from the thought of anyone watching them, until Dean raised his voice to address them. She strained her ears, not entirely sure what she was listening for, and very glad when there was no answer. "You know ....that would probably be more intimidating if you weren't naked and up to your nuts in me," she commented mildly, trying not to let the idea of being watched freak her out.

He swung his gaze toward her, narrowing his eyes, but then burst out in laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation and the way she phrased her reply. "I don't hear you complaining." He purposely wiggled a little so she could feel him still inside her, smirking mischievously, and waggling his brows. "You know what they say....Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

She moaned all over again as he wriggled, very aware of him still sheathed deep inside her as her arms smoothed into a tender loop about his shoulders, her lips finding a giggling smile in answer to his laughter. "That's a very strange place for me to be keeping my mouth, princess."

"I think I can find better places for your mouth." He was still smirking and looking a little smug despite the bruise that was turning an ugly shade of black and blue on his cheek. "So, what do you propose?" he asked, looking to eye the blanket again. He wasn't really uncomfortable or cold yet, but he couldn't say the same for her.

She eyed the blanket with him, not entirely sure whether she trusted it to stay put if they decided to make use of it. "There's always round two," she teased softly, rolling her eyes at the smug look on his face. "We could head back to the Landing and curl up in bed. Or, uh ..." She nodded toward the suspicious blanket. "We could use that." Dark eyes met his with fond enquiry. "What do you think?"

He was debating the same things, not really feeling like driving back to the Landing, but it would probably be the wise thing to do. Still, there was that blanket and the thought of being alone with her a while longer was appealing, not to mention a possible "round two". "Will Brian worry if you don't come home for a while?"

His question brought a wider smile to her face, the gentle brown of her eyes warm and twinkling with suggestive laughter. "I'm with you," she reminded him, the backs of her fingers finding a loving caress against his bruised jaw. "He won't worry unless you go back without me."

"Like hell. That's not going to happen." He answered her seriously. "You're stuck with me now, like it or not." He smiled as he turned back to her, green eyes shining in the darkness. "So, how should we do this" Can you reach it from here?"

"Depends if you wanna fall asleep in the front or the back, doesn't it?" she pointed out, momentarily entranced by the handsome smile he turned in her direction. There was something breathtakingly boyish about that expression on his face. "I think I can reach from here, unless you want me to get off you completely."

"No!" he protested, perhaps a little too quickly or vehemently. He didn't want to budge an inch, not ready to withdraw from her just yet, though he knew he'd have to eventually before she put his legs to sleep. "See if you can reach it from here." He straightened his back in an attempt to give her a slight boost without her leaving his lap completely.

She giggled at his vehement denial at the prospect of being left open to the chill air entirely, pressing a soft kiss to his lips in some sort of reassurance against her doing just that. "Yes, sir," she teased playfully, bracing one hand against the seat behind him as she rose up, swallowing a trembling groan at the flickering stimulation of that motion. Leaning over the back of the seat, she stretched her hand toward the blanket, not realizing until it was too late just how close in alignment this position put his face and her breasts.

His smile widened as she arched over him, his hands sliding slowly up her sides, unable or unwilling to resist the temptation that was right there in front of his face - like dangling candy in front of a child or a carrot in front of a horse - he leaned forward, his hands sliding up her back again as his mouth found one breast, flicking his tongue against one pink tip, tasting and teasing.

A rush of breath left her chest as his tongue flicked against the suddenly aching bud of her breast, that flicker of wet heat combining with the stroke of his hands over the shiveringly sensitive dip of her spine to draw a husky laugh from her as her fingertips clenched in the blanket. "Dean," she whined quietly to him, but it was hardly a protest, as evidenced by the roll of her pelvis as she settled against him once again, dragging the warm wool onto the seat beside them. "You're doing it again."

He smiled at her reaction, both at the laugh and the warning sound of his name on her lips. He knew precisely what he was doing; that was the problem. He sighed as he withdrew his lips and she settled herself against him again, that small movement sending a wave of desire spiking through him again, like a jolt of electricity. "If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up," he murmured, almost sleepily.

"Neither do I." It was an unthinking agreement, murmured back to him in the same lazy tone as her arms resumed their wrap about his shoulders, a gentle undulation of her spine testing his sleepiness even as she smirked playfully against his lips. She was at a point where she could go either way, to sleep or on to higher things. "I could stay here, like this, forever."

He reached for the blanket before he either drifted off to sleep or they went on to round two, as she'd put it, shaking it out and tossing it over her shoulders, effectively covering them both. "No, you couldn't. Your legs would fall asleep eventually, and you'd have to pee." He smirked, thinking himself rather clever with his remark.

Her eyes rolled as she snorted with laughter. "Oh, yeah, 'cos that's real romantic," she drawled back to him, nipping at his smirking lips as he wrapped them both in the blanket. "Speaking of, though ....I should move before you lose all feeling in your legs."

He frowned at little when she suggested moving. He was enjoying being joined with her. One couldn't get any closer than that really, but he didn't argue with her practicality. "Just don't go far," he warned, too sleepy and content to argue or really have a fair go at round two just yet.

"Where do you think I'm going, to find a tree to sleep in?" she asked with impish sarcasm, utterly failing to stifle her soft groan as she rose from him once again, this time pouting a little as their joining came to an end.

As promised, she didn't go far, simply settling her bare rear against the seat before curling her legs over his lap once again, nestling close. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she draped the blanket over them both, brushing her lips to his shoulder in gentle contentment. Perhaps whoever was watching over them tonight would keep beat cops and park rangers from discovering the lovers before they woke and dressed.

He settled himself close against her, an arm going around her as she nestled against him, lacking the energy to move much more than that. It seemed between her and the fight earlier, he was spent. "I never felt like this before," he told her quietly, leaning his head against hers, feeling utterly peaceful and content.

A slow, if sleepy, smile touched her face at his words, her eyes gradually falling closed as she relaxed into him. It seemed as though, despite his protests, he'd found the peace of mind she'd promised him, if only for one night.

((Ah, young love. :grin: And again, someone taking a direct hand ....but who?! Thanks to Dean's player again, awesome fun scene!))