[h3] Anya [/h3]

[i] ‘Magic?’[/i], Anya thought to herself as Sam joined her, and she glanced up from the table she was looking at to scan over his face as he spoke about his home with such excitement.  It was endearing, and even though she refused to get attached to any hunters, ever again, this place seemed safe enough to at least pry.  Just a little.

When he pointed out the glowing rune, she looked at it closely, gasping a soft breath at how cool it was.  Her mind wandered, almost in time with him mentioning the same thing she was thinking.  She wondered how many times you could walk into a room in the bunker, move one thing, and find a whole new world under it.  Sam’s words matching her thoughts just made her smile, and she pulled her phone up to type, “I was actually just thinking that you must find things all the time.”

She laughed silently, and straightened up, running her hand through her hair to push it behind her ear with a shy look.  She thought about what to say, and eventually settled on something she had meant to say when he first agree with Dean to help her.

“By the way.  Thank you.  I don’t have anywhere else to go at this point, and to be honest, you’re the most normal and relatable…and young hunter I’ve dealt with.  I have high hopes for you.”, she pushed play and smiled at the small joke at the end of her sentence.  She didn’t know how long she would be staying, but they were off to a good start as far as getting to know each other.  She had no family, or friends.  Just finding common ground with someone else was refreshing.

[h3] Dean [/h3]

Dean felt almost guilty when Lexi began to explain that he didn’t have to rush himself.  He didn’t even want to put that on her.  He didn’t want to be taken care of.  But he could tell in her words that she wasn’t necessarily trying to take care of him.  She was giving him space.  The space that Sam normally refused to give him.  He would take it.  He sighed, and nodded, with a small chuckle at the mental image of her in dirty pajamas eating a barrel of ice cream.  It was honestly so fitting.  

“Yeah…well…”, he started, but she drove home the point of him being able to ask her anything he wanted to know.  Honestly, he wanted to know everything about her.  As guilty as he felt half the time he touched her, he also felt some sort of comfort in having her so close.  And he wanted to know why.  He wanted to know every inner working of her brain…eventually.

“I’ll have to give you the Sam Winchester interrogation, soon.  Cheaper than a therapist and better in the sack.”, he joked with her to lighten the mood, as she took her deep breath and he glanced down at his glass of whiskey.  Then came the call to action, mixed with a tiny bit of blackmail for his stomach that caused him to groan.

“Of course you’re going to use food to blackmail me into work.  Of course you are.  That’s just who you are…”, he feigned misery, finishing with a light chuckle, as he sat up straight in his chair, downed his whiskey, and pulled a book toward him, “I guess we should get to work.  But I’m getting that pie!  And you have to cook it in my t-shirt.  Don’t ask.  Just do.”