Trading Heartbeats

Chapter 20:

Looking up at the nearly naked women on the stage in front of the shady strip club, Dean couldn't stop the overwhelming feeling of boredom that washed over him. He leaned back in his chair, taking a drink of his beer and pulled his phone out of his pocket, seeing it was a little later than he thought. He rolled his eyes at the missed calls and text from Sam and Cas and he felt a pang of longing, seeing no missed calls or text from Olivia. Granted, he was in a way relieved that she hadn't attempted to reach out to him, but he couldn't help but think that if their situation would make her as drawn to him as he seemed to be to her. It would have to, right?

"You want a private dance, Gorgeous?" A soft voice purred near his ear.

Dean's eyes looked up from his phone and blinked a few times as he met the sad brown eyes of the dancer who had just been on stage. She had been introduced as 'Candy' (of course). He smiled weakly and shook his head, taking a drink of beer.

"Uh...you were great, but no. No, thank you." He said, trying to dismiss her as politely as one could dismiss a stripper. She returned his look with a frown and sat down next to him, placing a gentle hand on his knee. He opened his mouth to protest but was cut off.

"Honey, you know there is a gay strip club just down the road, right? They're really discrete." She offered with a sympathetic smile. Dean coughed, nearly choking. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, shaking his head.

"I'm not..." He started as the woman raised a painted on eyebrow at him. She raised her hands in surrender and stood up with a smirk across her bright red lips.

"Okay. I'm around if you change your mind, handsome." Candy winked suggestively at him and wandered off to the next pathetic man to find himself at a strip club on an early Tuesday evening.

Dean huffed slightly, slumping back into his seat. His mind began to wander to thoughts of Olivia, once again. He sighed to himself as he ran a hand over his face. Maybe Cas could find a way to fight what seemed inevitable. The way he had explained things had left Dean feeling powerless and forced into something he wasn't even sure what it meant. Sure, he could have not bolted and asked Cas more questions and looked up lore about the situation (if there even was any) with Sam, but at that moment he had felt like he was suffocating and he needed space.

He wasn't sure why, but he felt determined to fight against whatever connection or magnetic pull that seemed to exist between him and Olivia. But, if Dean had to be drawn to anyone by something out of his control, he was glad it was her. She was everything he could even think he could want in someone, but he wasn't sure if their link was responsible for him feeling that way about her.

Rubbing his hands over his face, Dean sighed as the cliche sounds of "Cherry Pie" by Warrant started pumping through the club's sound system. He picked up his beer, taking a large gulp. Setting it back down, he noticed the screen on his phone light up. 'Cas' flashed angrily up at him. He rolled his eyes, sending the call straight to voicemail.

Leaning back in his seat again, he picked up his beer, once more, killing the bottle. He raised his hand to get the attention of the scantily clad waitress walking by as the light from his phone drew his eye. With a quick huff, he picked up his phone, opening the new message. It was a single picture message, from Cas, of the Impala in the parking lot of the strip club he was currently sitting in. Fuck. He had been found out.

He was sure he had turned off the GPS on his phone, and he had driven for at least an hour or two from the town they were staying in. With a deep sigh, Dean pushed up from the table, grabbing his jacket and slipping it on over his shoulders. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet tossing some money on the table.