[h3] Anya [/h3] 

Anya reached out and took Sam’s hand as he extended it to her, allowing him to pull her from the room and down the hall with him.  It was such a simple gesture, but it meant a lot.  She felt oddly safe around Sam, and she felt safe here.  Her father would have had plenty to say about her behavior, considering she had only known Sam a few hours and was already walking around his home, holding his hand, and going on a tour as if they were meeting at the altar in a week.

When they stepped into the library, she staggered a bit in the doorway and then she finally processed how amazing the library looked, even with the visible dust all over the whole room.  It was clear that many of these books hadn’t been touched in many many years, which made her want to read them all.  She stepped further between the shelves, brushing a bit of dust off one of the diaries, one Ben Trimble - Men of Letters.  She ran her finger along the embedded name and glanced up at Sam as he went quiet.

She looked up at him, grabbing for another book to dust off as she frowned, wondering what he was thinking.  It was times like these that she wished she could just ask him, without having to fumble with anything, or have both her hands free.  She brushed it off for a moment, and dusted off a plate that told what was in a particular shelf.  She then stepped around to the small table, brushing her fingers across a few carvings in the wood.  She pulled her phone out and typed a message, “I’ll probably be in here, if you ever lose me.”

Anya held it up beside her head with a sly smirk, and then pulled it down after it played, and typed a quick message, “Are you okay?  If you’re tired or you need some alone time or something, I am happy to just find a book and head back to my room.”, she played the message, and looked up at him with a sympathetic look.  She honestly hoped he would say ‘no’ and that she wasn’t being too much, and that maybe they had just trudged up some bad memories or something.  Then again, it would be a lot easier to leave him, if she never really got to know him.

[h3] Dean [/h3]

Dean honestly felt his chest swell a bit as Lexi covered her face and hid her laughter from him.  He could make her laugh.  No.  He was making her laugh.  That was a welcome sight as he rolled his eyes.  She confirmed that she knew he wasn’t dedicated to the case, at which he didn’t have a choice but to shrug his shoulders innocently, “I can’t help it.”, he started. But then his mouth nearly dropped open.

She all but confirmed that she was willing to giving thought to having sex with him, something he had a very hard time getting out of his mouth as a request or even a flirtation.  He opened his mouth a few times to speak, but couldn’t quite find the words to even begin to cover what was going through his head.  And of course…she continued.

He followed her hands up and down as she teased him, taking in every inch of her body that he could see above the table, and he swallowed heavily at the end of her flirtation, “And um…do…d-do you still h-have those clothes?  Just wondering.  I mean…I-I’m a panties kinda guy anyway, but it never hurts to um…experiment.”

Dean’s heart hammered at the amount of energy it took to stammer out that entire sentence and he took a deep breath, blowing it out as if he had just ran a marathon, “You know what I mean, don’t even look at me like that…tease.”