"How does it look?" I asked, spinning in a circle like I had for Sammy. "Good?"
Sam gave me the approving look I'd gotten in the bathroom earlier, but Dean looked surprised at first and then scared, crossing his legs slowly and lacing his fingers in his lap. "I don't know if you should wear that," he said slowly, his voice forced. "I wouldn't wanna have to spend all night beating up guys that'll get handsy."
"I can handle those guys. Aren't they part of the fun?" I glanced around the room, looking for the boots. They were in their box on the floor by Dean, and I walked over to them, kneeling to get them out. He made a choked noise and shook his head wildly.
"Definitely don't do that," he said quickly, motioning for me to stand. I did so slowly, holding the boots.
"Do I look bad?" I tried to look over my shoulder at what the dress made my butt look like, not seeing anything negative.
"The opposite." He waved me away. "Maybe we should have gotten you something less tight."
"I don't care what you think. I love it." I grinned at Sammy, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting the boots on. Of course they fit perfectly. "This is the best outfit ever for the best night ever. We're leaving at eight-thirty?" I glanced at the clock, jumping up. "I don't have much time!"
"You have like an hour." Sam looked confused, which wasn't a common expression on him.
"For hair and makeup and everything else important! Getting dressed isn't the only part of getting ready!" There it was, my girly side that I'd had before joining their hunting team. "Do I even have any makeup?"
They met gazes, and I sighed, frowning. "Fine. No makeup, then. I'll still probably use the whole rest of the hour, though."
And I did. I wore my hair down and parted at the side, and since it was somewhat wavy naturally, I spent a long time getting it to lie straight. The rest of the time was spent making sure my deodorant wasn't going to leave marks on the armpits of my dress, and then adjusting the belts on the boots. I could tell Sam and Dean were very unused to this side of me and were glad that it didn't seem to come out often.
By eight-thirty I was only half-sure that everything was perfect, but that would have to do, and we went out to the Impala like always. I was once again excited like I had been that morning about killing the vampires, but this time was a different kind, meaning I didn't have any hopes of encountering creatures on this outing. This was a party, and though killing things was fun, it didn't really fit into the theme.
Getting there was overwhelming at first. The club we went to was swarming with people and the music seemed to shake the whole building, people smoking and drinking against the front wall until the bouncer kicked them out. We used one of the fake IDs we had for me even though I had turned twenty-one anyway. What would be the point of having an ID that had real information on it when it could get found and incriminate you?
We went to the bar right away, and Dean and Sam were very at home there. Dean's eyes widened when he made his choice. "You guys have purple nurples?!" he exclaimed. "I want those!"
Sam chose pretty quickly too. "Um, a Long Island iced tea would be great."
"Of course you'd get the girly drink, Sammy," Dean joked, giving Sam one of his normal I'm-not-really-kidding looks.
"At least I didn't get a Shirley Temple," Sam pointed out.
"Oh my gosh!" I said loudly. "I haven't had a Shirley Temple in forever! Can I please have one of those?"
Dean looked disapproving. "Megan, you just turned twenty-one, not two."
I rolled my eyes. "Fine, then, I'll have a Jack and diet Coke."
"I'm not the only one getting a girly drink, then!" Sam grinned.
"What's girly about diet Coke? The other stuff burns my throat!"
Dean laughed. "That's what she said."
We finished our drinks and then left the bar, and I was already feeling a little buzzed, looking through the crowds of people on the dance floor. I turned to Dean. "Let's go dance."
He scoffed. "Why don't you and Samantha go dance together? We should have gotten the two of you matching dresses. His would probably ride a little high, though."
"I want you to dance." I grabbed onto his hand and tried to pull him with me, but he didn't budge, his weight and strength far outmatching mine. "Come on, it's my birthday! Don't I deserve at least one dance?"
"Not after what those boots cost," he grumbled. "I don't dance."
"Do I have to get you really drunk just so that you'll dance with me?" I smiled innocently, trying to find a way that would actually make him come with me while he debated.
"You know that won't work. I'm not some sorority girl you can manipulate." His expression faltered though, and I saw an opening, going for it.
"Pleeease, Dean? Pretty please with another round of purple nurples on top?"
"How about this? I dance with you, and you have to drink a Jack and Coke. Not diet, either. A real one that 'burns your throat.'"
I rolled my eyes. "Fine, whatever, come on!" I grinned, pulling on his hand again and smiling even wider when he let me drag him to the middle of the dance floor.
