Andrea Sanders, legendary hunter, is the kind of legend that only the brave and stupid dare to whisper about at night. After ditching the foster system at sixteen, she follows her father's footsteps into the only life she's ever known: hunting down...
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Dean glanced at Andrea from the corner of his eye while she stared out the window of his Impala. Her legs were tucked up underneath of her, arms crossed over her chest with her head leaning against the window. Biting his lip, Dean slid a hand over to her thigh, trying his best to be comforting. She jumped, clearly startled at being ripped from her thoughts. Her big brown eyes widened only for a moment before she relaxed, realizing it was just him. "You, uh, you sure you don't wanna drive?" He asked hesitantly. The offering of his car was the only way Dean really knew how to make a situation better. So when she had declined earlier, he didn't know what to do.
The huntress gave him a forced smile that didn't even come close to reaching her eyes. "I'm okay, thanks." Feeling stupid, Dean went to pull his hand back from her. But before he could, she snuck her hand into his. "Really. Thank you." The sincerity rang loud and clear in her voice and he could see her looking at him while he watched the road. "For coming to get me. For being there for me. For having my back."
"You're," his voice cracked, making Dean clear his throat. "You're welcome. Something just felt off, and you weren't picking up." She began rubbing circles with her thumb across the top of his hand, stealing any train of thought he had previously. All he could focus on now were the sparks jumping between them and needing to make things right. "Listen, Andy, about the morning you left-"
"Don't worry about it, Dean. If you want this to just be casual sex, I can learn to live with that." Learn to-? No. No that wasn't what he wanted at all. He wanted to cuddle her every night until she fell asleep. He wanted to hear her hum in the shower every morning. He wanted her hand in his just like it was now everyday for the rest of his life. Casual sex wasn't what he wanted: he wanted her.
Dean wasn't entirely sure what his feelings were yet, in their entirety, but he knew it was far more than any one night stand or summer fling. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't sure he'd ever felt this way. So when Andy went to retreat back into herself and pull her hand with her, Dean clutched tightly as if it were his lifeline. "No."
"No?" Andy parroted, an eyebrow raised.
"No. Casual sex. That's not what I want-"
"I mean we don't have to have sex at all if that's what you'd rather-"
"No!" For a moment he worried he'd crushed her hand—it was always so much smaller than his own—as he gripped her tighter. It was almost as if he feared the loss of contact would be permanent if he let her go now. "I think we're almost to the motel, but Bubbles, I don't know how to go about this." He chewed on his bottom lip, following Sam down a new road in the Chevelle. "I guess what I'm trying to say is," he shrugged, trying to think of words that worked. "I'm just like a dolphin: cute, but also a huge jerk." Andy chuckled softly from beside him, enjoying the struggle he was trying to work through while he just enjoyed her laugh. "And I know I can be a jerk, especially when I'm dealing with something new. But I'm trying to figure out what all of this dumb shit is that's rolling around inside of me at the moment. And when I do, if you want to, you'll be the first to know."
