"Hey," you call over to the boys, your hands grasping for your dress zipper.
Sam looks up from the bed where he's tying his shoes, and Dean looks at you through the mirror he's using to straighten his tie.
You we're currently on case, and Sam was heading down to the morgue and you and Dean were headed to the police station.
"Can one of you help me?"
You were getting ready to play your part of Agent Nicks, and the occasion called for a black polyester dressed that fell to your knees with a think belt around your waist, finished off with a white blazer that matched your kitten heels.
Dean clears his throats and steps away from the mirror, his feet shuffling across the once pink carpets until he brushes up behind you.
"What happened to your suit?" He asks as he pulls up the gold zipper, his fingers gliding up your back as he closes the sliver of back that had been showing.
"Felt like something new," you shrug, pushing your hair off your shoulder and behind your back once the zipper is all the way up.
You turn around, your eyes only meeting the knot of Dean's tie, even with the few extra inches from your shoes.
You look at the crooked knot and huff.
"You're tie still isn't straight." Your fingers come up to his collar, his throat tightening as you tug on the emerald fabric–your favorite, which has you've noticed has been making a regular appearance since you mentioned that it to Dean a few months ago–shimming it back and forth until it's perfectly aligned.
"Perfect." You smile at your work, your hand resting on the lapel of his black suit. You look up at him, your smile still bright.
He stares down at you, his green eyes studying you from the arch of your eyebrows to the curve of your jaw.
"Ready?" Sam calls, his hands sliding up from his knees as he stands.
You take a step back from Dean, your hand falling away from his chest as you look over his shoulder and smile at Sam.
"Let's go."
"I'm surprised they called the Feds in for this one. It seems like a simple murder, suicide." They young cop you've been working with, Officer Brown, comments as he hands you the case file, his hand lingering on yours a bit longer than necessary, causing Dean to frown.
"Well," Dean says loudly, pulling Officer Brown's eyes away from yours. "You know us. Just want to double check." Dean smirks tightly at him.
"Anyways," Officer Brown turns away from Dean, facing you again. "It looks like Mr. Moore came home after work from his construction sight around 7pm, and about 7:15 is when neighbors reported hearing gunshots. By the time we got there, both him and Mrs. Moore were dead."
You nod at him, frowning at the lack of new information he was (or more accurately wasn't) providing.
"Can you think of anything else? Anything that seemed strange, out of place? Something you didn't put in your report but something that just seemed off about the whole situation?" You ask, hoping he might mention cold spots or sulfur.
He shakes his head. "Not that I can think of. But Officer Grant was the first on the scene. You can try asking him." He points to a middle-aged man with a buzzcut and surprisingly nice physique.
"I will, thanks." You smile and turn to walk to Officer Grant's desk. Dean stays behind, waiting for the victims' background information to print.
As you walk away, Officer Brown's head leans to the side, watching the sway in your hips as you go.
Dean frowns and his face scrunches up at Officer Brown's eyes continue to follow you.
With a harsh whistle, Dean captures Officer Brown's attention, breaking his gaze from you.
"Hey!" Dean scowls. "How 'bout you go check on those documents?" Dean's eyebrows raise, as if he's daring the smaller officer to challenge him.
"Right." Officer Brown ducks his head and runs off to see if the documents have printed yet.
Dean huffs and rolls his eyes as he walks over to you and Officer Grant, your hip leaning against his desk as he fills you in.
"Anything?" He asks, his lips tickling your ear.
You turn your head slightly, your eyes catching his out of your peripherals.
"Hold on," you whisper back, and both of you turn your attention back to Officer Grant.
"Never had something like that happen here before." Grant shakes his head and sighs. "And I swear, I've never been in a house so cold before." Your eyebrows perk up and you look over to Dean. "As soon as I walked in, before I even found them, I could feel the chill in my bones."
"Thank you so much, for your help Officer Grant." Grant nods and turns back to his computer.
"Agent Plant," Officer Brown sheepishly appears behind the two of you. "I've got the documents you asked for." Dean smiles down smugly at him as Brown carefully avoids your eyes, causing a frown to appear on your lips.
"Thanks." Dean nods and heads for the door. You throw a "thanks" over your shoulder as you rush out behind Dean, suddenly confused as to what just happened.
"What the hell was that?" You call out to Dean who is already at the Impala as you try to jog across the parking lot in your heels.
"What was what?" He asks innocently, and you glare at him, knowing he knows exactly what you're talking out. "Hurry your ass in here. Sam's got something!" He waves at you as he disappears into the Impala.
You huff, annoyed that he's keeping secrets, but hurry over to Baby and hop in.
"You know what." You mutter under your breath as you cross your arms. Dean pretends he didn't hear you and speeds out of the parking lot towards Sam.
