An arm tightened around your waist, pulling you to a warm and sturdy chest. You snuggled into it, pressing your cheek as close as possible, feeling a slight chuckle rattle in his chest.

"Good morning." He whispered, his voice rough with sleep.

You peered up at him, your smile growing as he moved the hair away from your face. "Good morning yourself." You mumbled, in a good mood after last night. "We should probably get up." You muttered, knowing there was a case waiting for the three of you.

You started to move, but he tightened his grasp, making you squeal in surprise. "Dean!" 

He just shrugged. "What? Last night was amazing, I'm just not ready to get out of bed yet."

You poked him in the chest, laughing as you remembered the rest of the evening at the bar. "I never would have thought I would have the chance to see you dance like that." You told him, snorting as you remembered how a drunk Dean had wiggled his hips on the dance floor, just for your benefit.

"I did what?" He asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief, letting you know he remembered. 

"Hey, lazy butts, get them out of bed, we have a hunt to go on!" Sam yelled through the door, and you were finally able to disentangle yourself from Dean's embrace. You looked at Dean, who was still laying there on his back, using an arm as a pillow, pulling his plain white t-shirt taunt over his chest. His chin was covered in stubble, and you had to fight the urge to crawl back in, and forget about the hunt.

"Why don't you start packing. I'll go get us coffee." You told him, shrugging on your jeans and t-shirt, forcing yourself to move.

He nodded, finally sliding out of bed, standing there in his t-shirt and boxer briefs. "Hurry up and come back." He told you.

Leaving the room, you went straight for the kitchen, where you knew Sam would be. He was sitting at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him. Grabbing two cups of coffee, you started pouring them, before turning to Sam.

"Are you sure going on a hunt is a good thing right now?" You asked him, worried for Dean, but he just shrugged.

"Why not? He's still Dean, and this hunt falls into our territory. I think we should try it." He explained to you.

"Fine, but if someone gets hurt because he's too preoccupied with me, then I'm taking it out on you." You threatened. Dean was always watching out for you on hunts, but this was different. Would he be able to separate himself long enough to get the job done? You thought to yourself as you brought the coffee back to Dean's room.

Soon, the three of you were travelling along the highway, Sam in the backseat for once. You had started to slide in your usual spot, but Dean had begged you to sit up front with him, and rather than start a fight, Sam changed spots with you. You were pretty sure Sam didn't mind, because the moment the Impala hit the road, he was sprawled in the backseat, snoring softly.

Throughout the drive, Dean kept taking his hand off the steering wheel, running his fingers along the back of your hand, or intertwining your fingers together. At one point, he pulled on your hand until you gave in, and scooted over to him, where he raised his arm, and let you slide in so you could lean against his chest. You fell asleep then, enjoying the safety of Dean's arm for the rest of the road trip.

The stopping of the Impala woke you up, and you realized that Dean had already pulled into the motel's parking lot. Sam was gone, already on his way to book a room, and you and Dean started gathering your bags from the back.

"Dean, are you sure you will be okay for this hunt?" You asked him, still nervous about it.

He seemed hurt that you were even questioning it. "Of course I will be fine. Just because I can't keep my hands off of you doesn't mean I can't do my job."

"Of course. I'm sorry, I just don't want anything to happen to you." You apologized, just as Sam came back. Dean seemed okay with your answer because he pulled you tight to his side as you walked towards the room.

"So, let's throw our stuff into the room, then head on out. I've already figured out where they're hiding, so it should be a pretty quick hunt." Sam explained.

"Already? That means no FBI gear!" You said, celebrating. You had always hated dressing up as FBI agents, afraid that someone would realize you were just pretending.

"Yeah, they are living down by the river, in the old water plant." Sam told you as the three of you tossed your bags onto the beds. The room was better than some of the other ones you had stayed at, with nice navy and tan comforters on the bed, and nature pictures lining the tan walls. At least it was clean, and didn't smell too musty or dirty.

Dean started ruffling through one of the bags, pulling out a silver knife for each of you, while Sam grabbed a paper bag. You looked at it in question, and he pulled out a bottle full of blood.

"Haven't you ever hunted a Djinn before?" He asked you, and you shook your head no. "Well, to kill a Djinn, they need to be stabbed with a knife dipped in lambs blood."

"Poor lamb." You muttered, taking the knife from Dean. 

Soon, the three of you were back on the road, traveling past town, to where a big, abandoned metal building lay rotting next to the river.

"How are we supposed to get in there? And then find them?" You asked, taking in the six foot high fence surrounding the place, and the tall building, that had to be at least three stories high.

Dean reached into the trunk, and pulled out a huge pair of metal cutting pliers. "This will work. And I bet they are on the ground floor. Shouldn't be too hard."

You nodded, your nerves making your body tense. It wasn't as if you hadn't been on hunts before, but this one just had an unsettling feeling to it, and you didn't like it.

You followed behind Sam and Dean as they walked the fence, looking for an easy way in. Dean found it about ten steps down, a gate where the chain holding it closed had already been cut. "Guess we don't need these." He said, tossing them behind him, before grabbing your hand. 

Squeezing through the opening, you stayed close to Dean as the three of you made your way to the metal door on the side. It was unlocked, and you winced as it squeaked as Sam opened it. In front of you was a long corridor, empty rooms on each side. Making sure your knives were covered in blood, the three of you started moving, knives at the ready as you came to each room. 

When each one was empty, you kept on moving, coming to another hallway. Dean pointed at Sam, pointing left, while he pointed to you, then him. He wanted you to split up, but of course he wanted you with him. Sam nodded, before taking off. Dean went to grab your hand, but you shook your head. You wanted both of your hands to be free, in case you were jumped.

Your hallway opened up into a vast room, full of huge water barrels and transfer machinery. You stayed to the edge as you walked around, looking for any sort of movement. You had almost given up hope when you saw two bodies, hanging from the bar overhead. 

"Dean." You whispered, pointing over to them. He noticed them, and you started to rush over, when a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"I wasn't expecting dinner to just fall into my lap. How perfect is this?" The person behind you said, and you slowly turned, to find a man standing right behind you.