Provenance- Part 2

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"Grant Wood and Grandma Moses?" Dean asked, walking to the room.

"Art history course. It's good for meeting girls." Sam shrugged.

"It's like I don't even know you." Dean unlocked the door and walked inside. Once inside, you immediately fell on one of the beds.

"Well, these are nicer than some of the other beds I've slept on."

"Enjoy it while it lasts." Sam chuckled.

"What was... providence?" Dean asked suddenly.

"Prov-e-nance." You corrected him.

"It's a certificate of origin, like a biography. You know, we can use them to check the history of the pieces, see if any of them have a freaky past." Sam explained to him.

"Huh. Well, we're not getting anything out of chuckles, but Sarah..." Dean smirked, hinting to something.

"Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin." Sam teased.

"Not me." Dean laughed.

"No, no, no, pick ups are your thing, Dean," Sam said, not wanting any part of this.

"It wasn't my butt she was checking out." Dean pointed out.

"Sam, she seemed to like you better. Plus, you know more about this art stuff and history better than Dean and I don't think she's into girls." You said, sitting up.

"Although, that would be hot." Dean smiled, looking at you. You rolled your eyes playfully and didn't answer him.

"In other words, you want me to use her to get information," Sam stated, summing it up.

"Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her." Dean smirked, sitting on one of the beds. Sam reluctantly grabbed his phone and decided to make a date with the pretty girl.

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"Dean, you'd rather clean your guns than talk to me? Sam isn't here and this is what you want to do?" You sat on one of the beds while Dean sat on the other, all his guns spread out around him.

"Yep." He said, not looking up.

"Fine, can you teach me?" You smirked, remembering the last time when he tried to teach you.

"Nope." You frowned at his response and pouted.

"Why not?"

"I don't know if you remember last time but I won't get anything done if you're staring at me like you want to devour me." He gave you a smirk but went back to cleaning.

"And that's a bad thing?" You smirked, sitting on the other side of the bed he was on.

"It is when I have things to do. You can be very distracting. Now let me work." You rolled your eyes and laid back, staring at the ceiling. You didn't know how much time has passed but Dean was still cleaning and you were still bored.

"Dean, I'm bored, please talk to me." No response.

"Dean, I'm dying and you're not doing anything about it." No response.

"Dean, I'm naked." No response.

"Dean, I'll sleep with Sam." No response.

"Dean, I'll key your car."

"What did you just say?" He snapped his head to you.

"Oh, so that you'll listen to." You rolled your eyes with a huff. He turned back to his guns and you got up. You crawled over to him and sat on your knees behind him. You threaded your fingers through his hair and started to massage his scalp. He stilled his movements and you peeked at him to see his eyes closed and his mouth parted.

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