Cherry Pie

Fight Club

[Dean]

She glided about the motel room gracefully yet with a distinct, Rayne-like quality. She was a gentle spring breeze with the same untamable wildness as she was a hurricane. After all that time, I still wasn't quite sure how she managed it.

It was half-past midnight, and Rayne, with a rather sudden vigor, decided that she needed to purge her (already very limited) wardrobe. When she was through with hers, she inevitably moved on to mine. I would have protested a little harder if I didn't have a faint suspicion that she was just doing it to avoid sleep since her nightmares were getting worse. They weren't the same nightmares as Sam's — back when he was getting premonitions and waking up sweating and breathing erratically — but they were equally as bad.

They left a haunted look in Rayne's eyes; a general tiredness to her appearance. They made her extremely jumpy and, more times than not, I would wake up in the middle of the night to find her either quietly watching the crappy motel TV or listening to her iPod.

"Dean, honestly." She held up two of my plaid green shirts with a look on her face that screamed of a much higher exasperation level than I thought the situation warranted. "Do you really need both of these?" 

My response was simply to turn back to the tiny television screen that was playing some old western movie. 

"They're literally the exact same shirt!"

"And I look drop-dead gorgeous in both of them." I shot her a flirtatious wink.

"Look, I get that you're a simple, no-bull type of manly man, but it wouldn't hurt you to branch out and try wearing different patterns every once in a while. Just sayin'."

Finding the whole thing rather amusing, I had to chuckle. "Since when did you become such a fashionista? I've never seen you put any conscious effort into anything you wear."

She paused her frenzied rummaging through my duffel bag to flash me a coy smile. "That's because I look drop-dead gorgeous in anything so conscious effort is unnecessary."

"That you do." Leaning over on the bed, I grabbed her arm and pulled her over on top of me. Forgetting my own strength and her small frame, she crashed into me with more force than I'd intended.

"Dean!" she cried, her nose bumping against mine. "You have to stop doing that!"

"Doing what?" I asked innocently, attempting to find her lips.

"Manhandling me!"

I smirked at her. "Cherry Pie, don't pretend you don't enjoy my manhandling."

That made her blush but she remained undeterred. "You always just... snatch me up off the ground."

"No I don't," I said, my tone implying utter innocence as I continued trying to kiss her. It wasn't my fault that she was so easy to snatch up off the ground. I suspected it was how other people felt about puppies, or babies, or other cute, small animals. You couldn't help but want to pick them up.

Rayne pushed on my chest to put some space between us, her eyebrows rising into a disbelieving arch. "Um...yeah, you do! Have you forgotten about yesterday?"

She was referring to the pet store incident. After several futile attempts of trying to convince her to move away from the kittens, I finally just picked her up and carried her across the street to the car. "I only did that because you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk and staring through the store's window for over twenty minutes."