Death's Daughter | Supernatural, D.W.

A Turn For The Worst

I wake up to sunlight peeking through the curtains. "Shit," I mumble, realizing that Sam and Dean were probably up hours ago, and have probably left me here. I start to get up, but I hear the shower running in my bathroom.

Then I remember.

I laugh, for multiple reasons, but the most prevalent being all of the things I learned last night. The best thing I learned? Dean Winchester likes to cuddle after sex.

The shower stops. Realizing that I'm still naked, I quickly grab a hotel robe out of the closet and throw it on, tying it tightly around my waist. I reminisce on the feeling of Dean's hands gripping my waist, and smile broadly.

I try to tame my hair down some as Dean emerges from the bathroom. He's buttoning up his shirt when we make eye contact, and he stops. I watch him intently, no longer scared of openly staring at him.

"Good morning," he greets me smugly. "You've got about...30 minutes to be ready."

I feel a little taken down by his lack of sensitivity, but I get myself in gear anyway. I take a quick shower and throw on an outfit identical to yesterday's. While I'm brushing my wet hair out and drying it with a towel, Dean comes into the bathroom and stands next to me, fixing his own hair. I smile, finding an idea.

"Can I?" I ask, taking the styling product from him. I laugh at the fact that Dean uses products on his hair, but gives Sam so much shit for his hair.

Dean faces me, watching me with a small grin as I comb the cream through his hair with my fingers. When I'm finished, I make eye contact with him.

"What?" I challenge him.

"Nothing," he muses.

I cock an eyebrow at him. "Okay weirdo."

I move to walk around him, but he places a hand on my shoulder, catching my attention. Dean plants a quick kiss on my lips. "Last night was great."

"It was," I agree, winking at him with a smirk.

Snapping us from our little bubble, Sam knocks on the door and hollers at us. "Any day now, guys! We kind of have a case to work!"

"Unfortunately," Dean grumbles.

I follow him out into the hallway, where Sam waits, looking utterly unimpressed. "Next time we get a hotel, you two get a room that isn't next to mine."

"You're no fun, Sammy," Dean jokes.

I laugh at them, keeping myself out of the banter. Sam leads the way while Dean stays beside me.

"Hey," he mutters, "once we start getting into the case, I need you to be careful. Djinn are nasty creatures, alright, the last thing you need is djinn poison."

"I'll be careful," I vow.

Dean drives us to the site of the most recent killing, where he and Sam do the talking, like usual. I stand to the side, minding my own business, until I'm brought into the conversation.

"Who are you?" The police officer asks. "We don't let just anyone on the scene, you know."

"Yes, I know," I reply curtly. "I'm Agent Black, I work in evidence attainment. I'm supposed to try to find weapons or possible traces of substances left at the scenes."

The officer nods. "Alright, do what you need to."

Sam and Dean both release their breath they were holding. Sam eyeballs me nervously.

"Where did you get that from?" He asks.

"Thin air," I shrug. "It would've looked weird if you guys answered for me, so I covered myself."