Dean continued laughing at her aversion to cowboy boots, and what he remembered to be a good memory, even if at the time it was one of the scariest moments of his life, aside from hunting.  He shuffled his body a bit to slip his arm up under her neck, and hold her close to him against his chest, his fingers tracing the side of her arm as they laughed.

When she brought up the night he was called out for being under her bed, he laughed again, his smile bright, “Oh yeah.  I thought she was going to pull me out from under the bed and throw me out the window.  When she just told me goodnight, I almost came out of there and gave her a hug, but I figured that was pushing it.  So, the only thing I could say was ‘yes ma’am’.”

He laughed, remembering that it was the last time he had really treated anyone but Bobby with that much respect.  It was a high point for him.  At the mention of the Polaroids, he raised the hand that was on her arm, and pointed at nothing in particular, “I still have one of those in my bag, actually.  It’s stuffed inside of my journal as a bookmark.  You were smiling.  I like to stick it in the part of my book when I’m sleeping sometimes…”

He pulled her hand up onto his chest, and held onto it, bringing it gently up to his mouth to give her fingers a small kiss.

“Good times.  We should do fun stuff like that more often, now that we have to hide a bit less…”, he muttered with a chuckle.