In another world, an alternate universe. Sam and Dean Winchester never become hunters, and they aren't even brothers.

Dean Smith, however, is a successful sales marketer at Sandover Bridge and Iron Inc. He lives in a sleek, modern home, drives a Prius, wakes up at 6 AM on the dot every morning, creaming his espresso machine coffee with rice milk, and listens to business radio on the way to work. His life is orderly, predictable, and pristine—everything he's ever worked for.

Then there's Sam Wesson. Intelligent, diligent, and relatively new to the company as an IT specialist. He's been there for just three weeks, his wide-eyed ambition a stark contrast to Dean's perfectly polished routine.

And then, there's Nadia. A Nephilim, raised around angels, but kept in the dark about the true identity of her human father.

"Let's go over this, one more time. What's my name?"

Nadia groaned and crossed her arms, sitting on the opposite side of the desk. The white dress she wore, impeccable in design but tight and uncomfortable, felt like it was slowly squeezing the air out of her chest.

"Mr. Edward Adler. For the hundredth time, Uncle Zach," she said, exasperation lacing her voice. "You are the CEO of Sandover Bridge and Iron Inc., and you just hired me, Sarah Myers, to be your top employee Dean Smith's assistant."

Zachariah, standing behind his desk, was absorbed in staring out the window. His gaze was fixed on the bustling city below, his mind clearly elsewhere. "Good."

"I don't know why you're so worried," Nadia continued, leaning back slightly in the chair. "I know all about humans. Mom's taught me well. The plan is going to work. The boys will get the job done. Don't you believe in me?"

Zachariah turned, his cold green eyes now focused on her, an inscrutable expression on his face. He didn't answer immediately. His presence was commanding—tall, with graying hair, and wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. He looked every part the corporate overlord, though his power was anything but human.

"Of course," he said, his voice more clipped than encouraging.

"I just need you focused," he added, his tone almost admonishing.

"I'm focused," Nadia stood, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "What's so great about these guys anyway? A sales marketer and an IT guy? They don't exactly give off hunter vibes."

Zachariah's lips twitched as though he were fighting a smile. "Well, you know humans. You'd be surprised by what they're capable of when put in a sticky situation."

Nadia lifted a hand to fluff her hair, a nonchalant gesture to hide the fluttering nerves in her chest. She hated playing the part of a "classy professional"—the tight clothes, the uncomfortable shoes. She was used to being in control, blending in among the divine. Humans, though, had their own set of rules.

She glanced at Zachariah, who had his eyes on his watch now. "How do I look?" she asked, shifting slightly.

"Beautiful," he said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulders, a touch that was both possessive and proud. "Now," he glanced at his watch again, "Dean should be arriving at his office in a minute. Go out there and make sure they follow their path, or should I say, play their part."

Nadia nodded, more confident in the task at hand now. "I won't let you down," she assured him.

As she turned to leave, her white heels clicked on the hard floor, the sound sharp and reminding her of the pain slowly creeping into her feet. She gritted her teeth, determined to keep her composure.

Blending in with humans wasn't new, but this? This was different. She had never been thrust into a role like this before—where her every step was watched, her every action calculated. Protecting humans was one thing; this... felt like a game with higher stakes.

Her thoughts swirled back to her dual heritage—the constant tug between her angelic blood and her humanity. She had never been allowed to forget that she was an abomination in the eyes of many angels. Yet here she was, entrusted with a monumental task by Zachariah himself. Protecting these two men? It felt like a step in a new direction, a sign that perhaps the angels saw her as more than just a mistake.

She couldn't afford to mess this up.

Nadia stopped in front of Dean's office door, inhaling deeply. She put on her best smile, even as the familiar flutter of anxiety gnawed at her gut. With a steady hand, she knocked.

"Come in!"

The voice on the other side wasn't commanding, but somehow it echoed through her chest. She turned the handle and entered.

Dean had just arrived, head down, unpacking his suitcase onto the desk. He didn't look up immediately, but Nadia couldn't stop herself from taking in the way his broad shoulders filled out his suit. The faintest pulse of energy thrummed through her, a low hum she couldn't quite place.

"Hi," Nadia began, stepping inside, her voice unexpectedly faltering. "I'm—"

Dean's gaze snapped up, meeting hers.

The moment their eyes locked, time seemed to stretch out. The room fell away, and for a heartbeat, all that existed was the magnetic pull between them. Nadia's throat went dry. She had seen many men, had met many people, but this—this felt different. His eyes, that jawline, even the curve of his lips—it was something more. It was a familiarity that made her stomach flutter and her heart beat harder.

She didn't know why, but it felt like she knew him.

Dean felt it too.

"Sarah Myers," she stammered, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. She cleared her throat, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Sorry. I'm Sarah Myers."

Dean's smile widened into a grin, his hand extending toward her in greeting. "I'm Dean—"

"Smith," Nadia completed, shaking his hand. A warmth spread up her arm, spreading into her chest. "Yes, Mr. Adler hired me. He thought you could use some assistance with the promotion. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Dean replied, his voice warm, his gaze holding hers just a little too long.

"Of course!" Nadia said, eager to break the silence that stretched on uncomfortably. "He would have come to introduce me himself, but a meeting came up."

"Right, of course. It happens." He gave a short, pleasant chuckle. "Well, welcome. I'm happy to have you."

"I'm happy to be here." Nadia couldn't stop the smile that bloomed across her face, the sense of connection still lingering.

She hadn't expected to feel anything in this assignment, but now, she found herself breathless. She had to keep it together.

"So, uh, how does this work?" Dean asked, pulling his eyes away, but not without lingering just a little.

"Oh, um, my desk is right outside. I'll pass through your calls, sort your calendar, and if you need coffee, lunch, or someone to bounce ideas off of—"

"You're my girl."

"Yeah," she swallowed, the sudden butterflies causing her stomach to flip. "I'm your girl. So just, uh, holler if you need anything."

"I will." Dean's gaze flicked to her lips for a moment, his tongue darting across the bottom one before he nodded.

Nadia turned quickly, trying to ignore the tingling sensation crawling across her skin from his gaze. As she stepped back toward her desk, she couldn't help but feel his eyes on her—like a presence she couldn't shake.

Sitting down, Nadia let out a deep breath, her cheeks sore from how wide she was smiling.

"Thanks for telling me how hot he was, Uncle Zach," she murmured to herself, her heart still racing.

The day unfolded seamlessly, with Nadia tending to Dean's every need. Whether it was fetching coffee, coordinating lunch, filing reports, printing documents, making calls, or arranging meetings—nothing was too small for her to manage. She had her hands full, but her mind often wandered back to the man she was working alongside.

Every chance she got, her eyes would drift toward him. His office was just a few steps away, separated only by the thin wall of her cubicle, and the glass windows allowed her the perfect view of him.

Dean was dressed impeccably, a blue and white striped dress shirt clinging to his shoulders, a red tie knotted expertly at his throat, matching suspenders giving him an effortlessly sophisticated look. He paced his office with an air of authority, his deep voice smooth as he charmed every person who called him. There was a subtle magnetism to him that Nadia couldn't help but be drawn to.

She caught herself staring more often than she should, but there was something so familiar about him. As if they had crossed paths before—somewhere, somehow—and she just couldn't place when or where.

A soft cough startled her out of her thoughts. She quickly turned away from Dean's office, her heart racing slightly as she saw her uncle standing in the doorway.

"Mr. Adler," she straightened, smoothing the creases from her dress with a quick motion. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm here to check in with Mr. Smith."

"Of course, right this way," Nadia replied quickly, her voice a bit more strained than usual, but she flashed him a polite smile. She gestured for him to follow her inside. With a light knock on the doorframe, she pushed the door open.

Dean had just ended a call, his headset hanging loosely from one ear. His expression softened when he saw them.

"Buzz me back once you've seen the spreadsheets," he said to whoever was on the other end of the call before hanging up, giving his full attention to the two of them. "Mr. Adler."

"Dean." Zachariah slapped him on the shoulder with a grin that was equal parts proud and smug. "Good stuff."

"Good stuff?"

"Big things. Good stuff." Zachariah's smile was almost too pleased with himself.

Dean arched an eyebrow. "Good stuff. I've also been meaning to swing by your office and thank you for Ms. Myers." Dean pointed across the room to Nadia, who had positioned herself by the door, trying to remain out of the way.

Zachariah's gaze followed Dean's motion. "I figured you could use the help."

"And a help she's been indeed," Dean added, the corner of his mouth curling into a small grin as he looked back at Nadia.

Her chest warmed slightly at the compliment, but she quickly masked her smile with a professional nod. "I'm happy to hear that," she replied, her voice soft but genuine.

"I'll leave you two to it," Zachariah said with a satisfied nod, giving Nadia a brief, knowing look as he passed by her to leave the office.

Nadia stood silently by the door for a moment, feeling the weight of the look Zachariah had given her, though she didn't let it distract her. Once he had left, she turned back toward Dean, who had already started to return to his work.

"You need anything?" she asked, her voice warm but practical, trying to keep her emotions in check.

Dean looked up from his desk, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that sent a brief flutter through her stomach. "Another cup of coffee would be great," he said casually, as if they were simply coworkers.

"Of course," Nadia replied, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. She turned to leave, but before she could make her way to the kitchenette, she could feel Dean's gaze on her. The way his eyes lingered on her made her pulse quicken, but she forced herself to maintain composure, disappearing from his view with a final, fleeting glance.

Dean sat at his desk, absentmindedly toying with a small figurine as he talked into his headset. "Oh, I hear you," he said, his voice light but still carrying the fatigue of a long day. "No, I haven't been to the gym in ages. Carrying a little bloat around myself." He let out a laugh, the sound dry and a little self-deprecating. "It's a sedentary lifestyle, my man, no two ways about it."

He scribbled something on a sticky note, his attention shifting as he jotted down the client's instructions. "All right, tell me one more time. You said lemon and—what was it? Cayenne and maple syrup, are you serious?" Dean frowned, incredulous. "How much did you lose?"

A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. Dean looked up, smiling involuntarily when he saw Nadia standing in the doorway, a stack of papers in her arms.

He motioned for her to come in, adjusting his headset with one hand as he finished the call. "I'll let you know how it works," he told the client. "Talk soon. Bye."

Dean hung up and pulled the headset off, rising from his chair. "I thought you were gone already," he said, glancing at his watch. It was past the usual quitting time, and as always, he was one of the last few people in the office.

"I just wanted to finish organizing these before I head out," Nadia replied, walking around his desk to neatly file the folders into a drawer.

Dean cleared his throat, his gaze lingering on her for a fraction longer than professional decorum allowed. She was gorgeous—there was no denying it. But that wasn't all. There was something else about her, something that felt eerily familiar, as if they had crossed paths before in another life.

"So, goodnight?" Nadia broke his train of thought, already heading toward the door.

"Yes, goodnight," he said a little too quickly, nodding a little harder than necessary. "Thank you, Ms. Meyers."

"Sarah's fine," she replied with a smile that sent a flutter of butterflies straight to his chest. Dean returned a tight-lipped smile, nodding again, his throat suddenly dry.

Dean left first, checking his phone as he waited for the elevator to come. The quiet hum of the office around him only heightened his awareness of Nadia's presence. A few moments later, the sound of clicking heels echoed in the hall as Nadia joined him. She was wearing a black trench coat, her purse slung over one shoulder and her car keys clutched in one hand.

Dean looked up from his phone, catching sight of her, and immediately felt the butterflies again. Damn it. He cleared his throat.

"Fancy seeing you here," Dean said, his voice low.

Nadia laughed awkwardly, shifting on her feet. "Yeah, I uh, waited a bit. I figured you'd be on the elevator already. It's a little awkward now. I should've taken the stairs."

"No, it's fine," Dean assured her, his tone genuine. "I should've offered you to walk with me."

"It's okay," she said, a light chuckle escaping her. "You can pretend I'm not even here."

Dean hesitated, his eyes flicking to his phone. He could return to checking his emails, but something about the silence between them felt like it needed to be broken. Besides, she was his assistant. He didn't want there to be any tension between them—not if they were going to work together closely.

Dean slipped his phone into his pocket. "So, if you don't mind me asking, of course."

"Shoot," Nadia said with a casual shrug.

"Were you an assistant somewhere else before getting stuck with me?"

Nadia chuckled an easy laugh that made Dean grin. "Well—"

The elevator doors suddenly dinged open, cutting off her reply. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood in the doorway. His dark brown hair fell to his ears, and he wore a short-sleeved yellow shirt with the words Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc. Tech Support printed on it, paired with khaki pants and a satchel slung across his chest.

Nadia recognized him as Sam. Although Dean was her priority, she was to keep an eye on Sam too. After all the boys' destinies were tied.

Dean gestured for Nadia to step in first, and she did, slipping between him and Sam as the doors closed, and the elevator began its descent.

"So, you were saying?" Dean asked, breaking the silence, his eyes still on Nadia.

Nadia hesitated for a moment, her voice trailing off when she realized that Dean wasn't looking at her anymore. His attention had shifted entirely to Sam, who was frowning, staring at Dean like he was trying to recall a memory.

Nadia took a small step back, instinctively shifting her focus inward. She hated using her abilities, but in moments like these, it was necessary. Her mind brushed against Sam's thoughts, only for a split second—but it was enough to get a sense of what was happening

Sam scoffs, looking away with a slight shake of his head. He chuckles under his breath, a nervous but amused sound. "I'm sorry, man, you just look really familiar."

Dean doesn't miss a beat, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Save it for the health club, pal," his voice is casual, but there's a sharpness to his tone that makes Sam's neck snap to attention.

Nadia stifles a laugh, her lips curving into a knowing smile as she watches the exchange. She clears her throat and shifts slightly, the sound of the elevator dinging echoing in the small space. She steps out after Dean, her footsteps light but purposeful. However, as they walk toward the door, her keys slip from her fingers, the small clink they make sounding louder than she expects in the quiet hallway.

Dean, so engrossed in their conversation, doesn't realize she's paused behind him.

"Here you go," Sam says, offering the keys to Nadia with a smooth gesture, his hand outstretched.

Nadia smiles softly at him, a touch of gratitude in her gaze. As she reaches for them, their hands brush briefly, but the contact lingers a moment too long. Her grip tightens slightly around his hand, and for just a beat, they hold each other's gaze. His frown deepens, confusion flickering in his eyes.

"Trust your intuition," Nadia says, her voice calm but firm. "It never lies."

Sam's brow furrows at the weight of her words, but before he can respond, Nadia pulls away, catching up to Dean just as his voice fades into the distance. Their paces fall into sync without a word, the rhythm of their footsteps matching as they cross the threshold into the parking lot, the evening air cool against their skin.