Supernatural Season Three: A Dean Winchester Love Story

Red Sky At Morning (4)

Red Sky At Morning (4)

Kylie's POV

I was in awe of everything around me the further we went through the crowded rooms, the gold decorations caught my eyes making them sparkle with enjoyment. What would it be like to be a normal girl? 

 Sometimes, very rarely, I get to experience the what it would be like to be a true woman when I get to wear the occasional dress, but eventually I was shot back down to my plaid covered, ghost hunting reality.  

I felt Dean's eyes on me as I moved to stand in front of a gold vase that was probably worth more than my life. I reached my hand out to touch but immediately brought it back in fear that I would send it crashing down on the floor.

"I don't think we can fit that in your purse." Dean commented when he came to stand next to me.

"It's beautiful." I whispered, moving my head side to side slightly to see the true shimmer of the glass.

Dean let out a scoff, his eyes rolling ever so slightly. "This? You think this is beautiful?"

Glancing over my shoulder, I watched his face scrunch up in confusion, his head tilting at a weird angle, as if he was trying to see something that wasn't there.

"Don't strain yourself." I chuckled playfully.

He stuck out his bottom lip, a thoughtful pout on his lips, before he turned his tux covered body in my direction. "Baby is beautiful. Shower sex, although awkward, is beautiful." He listed off on each finger. "You in that dress is beautiful. That thing," His thumb shot towards the vase that suddenly seemed less spectacular, "is metal spray painted gold."

I blinked rapidly, my heart beating just as fast in my chest. "You think I'm beautiful?"

Dean's face turned red in embarrassment just as his hand shot up to tug awkwardly on his bow tie. "Well I mean . . . yeah." He shifted on his feet awkwardly. "You always look beautiful."

My lips turned up in a proud grin, my confidence boosting up a notch. "Thank you." I said softly, my voice not as strong as my new attitude. "Well," I cleared my throat as I looked around the room, "if you were a severed artefactual hand, where would you be?" 

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets as his eyes searched around the heavily crowded room. His green orbs sparkled when he saw a set of stairs that were heavily protected by security.

I turned to follow his gaze, the military-like man was standing tall with his broad shoulders square. His jaw was set tight as he eyed everyone in the room, on high alert for anything suspicious. 

"Private security?" I asked, but Dean was quick to shake his head.

"I don't think so." He replied tightly. "Look at the way he's standing, they're pros. Probably state troopers moonlighting."

I sighed as I looked around the room, hoping for another entry, but at every door there was a man just like the one at the stairs. "Posted to every door too." I sighed.

"Yeah, I don't think we're just going to be able to waltz upstairs." He said just as frustrated as I was.

"What do you suggest?" I questioned, hoping he had a plan because I sure as hell didn't have one. 

I thought that I could maybe take one of them down, but there was at least three of them in this room alone. I was tough, but not tough enough to take three military men by myself.

"I'm thinking." Dean said, his eyes moving rapidly as his mind worked.

A minute later, and words didn't come out of Dean's mouth, every now and then his lips would open before immediately pressing back together.