Lost In Wonderland (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Memory Two: Dinner Date

||Didn't they tell us don't rush into things, didn't you flash your green eyes at me? Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds? Didn't it all seem new and exciting?||

The sun was setting and your shift was coming to an end. After hours and hours of standing, you were happy that you could finally leave. You cleaned the counter and some of the coffee machines for good measure before clocking out. You said good bye to your coworkers who were in charge of closing, and headed out after getting your personal belongings. It had been a long day and you couldn't wait to get back to your apartment and just relax. You only lived a couple of blocks up the street from the coffee shop, so quite often you would walk or take the bus to get to and from places. Usually in the summer you would walk, then take the bus in colder weather if you didn't want to deal with all the wind. Tonight was a walking kind of night, or at least, it would have been.

"Hey," a vaguely familiar rough voice greeted you as you exited the building. "I was hoping I'd run into you again."

You looked up at the man who stood before you and found yourself in the presence of Green Tea Latte Lover. "Looks like I came just in time," he smiled, flashing his green eyes at you. Was his name Charles? Andrew? Dean? You tried to frantically remember. It must have been Dean...he didn't look like a Charles or an Andrew. Or did he? After writing so many names on coffee cups today, everything was a blur.

"Hi," you managed to choke out. "Back for more green tea lattes?" You asked, giving him a small smile. "You should look into getting a loyalty card with us." Once again you slapped yourself mentally for not keeping your awkwad mouth shut. He laughed at this and shook his head, "That would be great, but actually I'm back for you."

Your (e/c) eyes widened and you involuntarily muttered, "Oh."

"Oh?" He asked, a smirk plastered on his face. He took a step towards you and the reality of the situation was becoming more apparent: this guy was hitting on you and he was actually hot. Is this really happening? You asked yourself as you stared up at the tall man towering over you. Did I make it big? What if he's some con artist? No way someone like him would like me--

"Is that all you're going to say?" He asked, he had an expression of confused amusement on his face. You stuttered a bit before finally formulating a response.

"I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting to see you again," you answered truthfully.

"I hope I didn't disappoint you by showing up," he said. His eyes had a playful twinkle in them and something about them made you feel butterflies in your stomach. In a moment of confidence, you shook your head and said to him, "Not at all. I was hoping I could see you again."

"I'm really happy to hear that, (y/n)," he laughed softly. It still caught you off guard that he knew your name and you felt a little bad that you couldn't actually remember his.

"Let's actually introduce ourselves to each other," you said in an attempt to reaffirm his name without asking for it out right. You didn't need to have any more embarrassing moments today. You held your hand out for a handshake, "My name is (y/n), it is very nice to meet you."

He took your hand in a firm grip and shook it. "My name is Dean Winchester, now can I take you out to dinner at that conveniently placed diner up the street so we don't have to stand out here anymore?"

"I--"

"I'll take that as a yes, great!" And he never let go of your hand as he led you to the BlackHaven, the popular local diner that everyone in town went to. Is this real life? You screamed that question in your mind as you held your free hand over your face, trying desperately to cover the shades of red you knew were appearing. It was a little hard to keep your composure, you weren't used to this much male attention at once.  You were rushing straight into a situation you had no idea how to handle, but Dean seemed like he knew what he was doing.

--------------------

Despite your initial inability to adapt to the fast paceness of the date, Dean took it all in stride and didn't seem to mind your constant stuttering at all. After you both had been seated in the diner and served your dinner, things started to mellow out. You repeatedly told yourself to calm down and think of it as making a new friend, because nothing else was going to come out of this, right?

He had an appetite that didn't surprise you for a man of his build. Though you felt bad for suddenly having a stranger pay for your dinner, at the same time you were glad that you were getting a free meal. Though you lived alone, it was hard to pay the rent and buy groceries and still have a substantial amount of money left to put into savings. A free dinner was a blessing.

The entire time he had control over the conversation, asking you question after question about yourself. He seemed so eager to get to know you, it was endearing. You stumbled and stuttered your way through your answers, barely even asking him anything back because you were still in awe by the fact that this Adonis was even remotely interested in you.

But by the time the main courses were finished with and taken away,  you found out that he really loved classic rock and for the most part, greasy fast food. Also pie? Immediately after your meals were taken away, he ordered an apple pie for dessert. As you two waited for that to come, you decided to ask him more about himself.

"So," you started. "Dean Winchester, huh?"

"The one and only," he winked.

Please don't do that, you thought to yourself as your heart skipped a beat. "I've never seen you around so I take it you're not from here."

He shook his head, "Nah, I'm new in town actually."

"Really?"

"Yup, I got a new job oppurtunity here and thought why the hell not?" A little laugh accompanied this sentence. "What about you?" he asked.

"Oh, I've been here for a couple of years now. I'm just working and trying to pay off my student loans...and save up enough money to actually leave. Not much goes on around here if you haven't been able to tell by now."

"Weren't there just a couple of murders a few days ago?"

You looked at him, scrunching your eyebrows together. "That's not exactly something people talk about at the dinner table, Dean," you said lowly. "But yeah, there were...it's a big deal around here since it's a really small town."

"So did you know the victims?"

"What are you, some type of cop?" You asked in a monotonous tone. 

"Something like that, maybe," he answered in a smooth voice. You gave him an inquiring look but he shrugged it off. "You're right, this isn't something that should be talked about at the dinner table."

"What, you--" Before you could finish your sentence, the waitress came by and put a slice of pie down on the table and his attention was visibly stolen at that point. You noted the almost childlike excitement that was in his now changed demeanor and you laughed.

"What?" he asked as he took a fork to the pie. You simply shook your head and watched as he basically devoured it in under thirty seconds. Afterwards he let out a content sigh and pushed the plate foward and away from him. "That was delicious."

"So you're an undercover cop?" You asked once again. You weren't about to let that go. It was important information and it was only fair that he told you what he did for a living. Afterall, he already knew where you worked.

He stretched his arms over his head and groaned as a reflex before bringing his arms back down and resting them on the table. "You ask a lot of questions, (y/n)."

"Well, I want to know who I'm having dinner with," you smiled. "Besides, this shouldn't be a difficult question unless you have something to hide from me."

He chuckled at this and reached into his pocket to pull out his badge, "Happy?" he asked before putting it back. Happy probably wasn't the right word, but you were in awe once again. You never thought that you'd be having dinner with a police officer, let alone an undercover one.

"Wow," you whispered under your breath.

"You seem impressed," he said, bringing his wallet out to pay for the bill.

"I am, actually," you answered, smiling at him.