In-Air Comfort

Untitled Part 37

You collect your and Dean's refills from the bar and make your way over to where he's attempting to hustle a group of young boys at pool. You watch as he deliberately fumbles the shot. As he puts his cue down you hand him his glass.

"It's alright, babe. You never were the best at this game," you say helping his act. Turning your attention back to the game in front of you, you watch as the other guy lands a few shots and then misses. Dean goes to hand you his drink. "How about I handle this? You're not-"

The other guy cuts you off, "No, he started this, I'm only playing against him otherwise he forfeits."

You nod and take Dean's drink with a knowing look. He picks the cue back up and lines up his shot. You take a sip of your drink as you watch him land one shot after another until all of the solids balls are potted. He then lines up the 8-ball and shoots you a wink before striking the ball.

The other guy looks at you both in shock as the 8-ball lands in the pocket. "How? What?"

Dean strolls over to you and kisses you on the top of the head. "I just needed my good luck charm here."

The man shakes his head and pulls out his wallet handing Dean his winnings and walks off. You hand Dean his drink and he leads you to a table and holds out the money to you. "For you."

Knowing it'll probably just go towards the next round of drinks you take it and slip it into your pocket. As you're enjoying the comfortable quiet between the two of you and the ambience of the bar you swear you overhear the men at the table next to yours say the word 'werewolf'.

"Dean," you say quietly getting his attention, you subtly nod your head towards the table beside you. He gives you a confused look before glancing over at the men. He looks back at you and shakes his head still confused.

Having brought attention to yourselves the men look over and sigh. "Great," the tall, slender man with piercing blue eyes and a neatly trimmed beard says, "Winchesters are here..."

Hearing his name Dean's immediately out of his seat and leaning over their table blocking their view of you. "How'd you know my name? Who are you? What are you?" he asks roughly, his right hand reaching under his flannel for his knife.

They quickly put their hands up in surrender. The same man slowly says, "I'm Mark and this is Jason. We're hunters. All good hunters know about the Winchesters, and how if you're here it means we're not. People who work with you have a habit of winding up dead. So, good luck with the case, we'll just be going now." They slowly start to stand up.

Dean releases his grip on his knife, stands up straighter and briefly glances over his shoulder at you before looking back at them. "How about you tell me what you've got on this case so far? Maybe we can help each other."

The slightly shorter, more muscular man, who was introduced as Jason, pipes up, "Didn't you just hear my friend? We might be hunters, but we value our lives, so no thanks. I'm sure you and your moose of a brother have it handled, wherever he is."

"My brother's not here, just me. And if you've heard about me then you know the experience I have. Let me help."

"Dean," you say offended. With one look he can tell exactly what you're thinking, so he shakes his head sternly.

Jason speaks again, getting Dean's attention, "Look man, your girl there looks like she needs some attention. You worked hard to get in her pants so enjoy your quick screw and by the time you're done we'll be long gone and you can take care of the case yourself."

You see Dean instantly tense at the man's words. Before he can react you're out of your seat and at his side gripping his wrist. He slams his left hand on the table in front of them. "She's no quick screw. This is my wife, and for your information, she's a damn good hunter. But," he looks down at you before continuing, "If she thinks for one second I'm letting her go on a hunt on our honeymoon..."