⌜ chapter ten ⌟

Sam opens the door to his and Dean's motel room, and Isla offers him a small smile as she holds up a plastic shopping bag. "Happy belated birthday." The blonde says, and he seems surprised.

"I didn't think you were talking to me, much less buying me presents." He says as he steps to the side, letting her into the room.

She shrugs. "I hate drama, so... Bygones." She tells him. "Now take your gifts before Minx chews it up and shreds it like my research for the last case." She says as she kicks the door shut behind her, and he chuckles as he takes the plastic bag from her.

Sam walks over to sit on the foot of his bed as Isla sets Minx on the floor. The kitten takes off running and seems to immediately find her way into Dean's duffle bag. The older boy shakes his head, laughing as he watches the little, black kitten. He's not worried about her being in there because he doesn't keep any of his weapons in his bag with his clothes.

"No, open the other one first!" Isla yells when Sam pulls out one of the poorly wrapped gifts that she got for him, and he smirks as he looks up at her.

"Where'd you go for lunch earlier?"

"IHOP." She tells him, and he laughs as he shakes his head, knowing she gets a little worked up when she has sugar. "Shut up." The blonde grumbles.

Sam pulls the other gift out and opens it up; his eyebrows furrow as he looks at what's in his hand. "A sticker?" He looks at her, and she gives him a deflated look.

"Make it sound lame, why don't you?" She shakes her head as she sits down next to him. "It's for your laptop."

"My initials."

"Mhm." She nods. "I had it customized. And I got some weird looks from the guy at the shop too — people are very judgmental. He reminded me why I don't like people."

"This is cool." Sam says as he looks back at the big SW sticker in his hand. "What are all of the little designs?"

"Stuff that I think represents you — like books, because Dean says that you do all the research because you're the brainiac or college boy; and then there's guns, knives, an 8 ball, darts — 'cause it's hunter stuff... Oh, and the little z's because you always go to bed first, Grandpa." She tells him and then laughs as he looks at all of the small pictures on his initials.

"This is really cool. Thank you, Isla. I like it a lot." He says, and she smiles as he looks at her.

"Now open the other one." She points at the other bag sitting on his lap.

He undoes her poor wrap job and then starts laughing when he sees the other sticker. "Really?"

"Yes, really!" She gives him a dirty look. "You are Sasquatch!"

"What is it?" Dean asks as he walks over to the two of them.

"Harry from Harry and the Hendersons." Sam holds up the sticker, and his brother chuckles at the blonde's sense of humor.

A couple hours later, Isla looks over at the two boys who are sitting at the table looking for a job to head for. She's laying on the couch in their room, completely bored out of her mind, and she takes a deep breath.

"Do you guys mind doing Minx's food in a couple hours, if I'm not back?" She asks; she's shown them how to do it, and they've both fed the kitten a few times before. "I was thinking about walking to the bar up the street for a bit."

"Yeah, I got it." Sam tells her. "Why don't you just leave her here tonight, and I'll feed her the next few times." He says as he looks over at her, knowing that she's still been struggling to sleep at night.

"Are you sure?" She asks, and he nods.

"Yeah. I mean, you're always talking about how she's keeping you up. I'll watch her so that you can get some sleep."

"You're the best, Sasquatch." The blonde says as she gets to her feet, and he chuckles.

"You want some company?" Dean asks, and she looks over at the older boy.

"Oh, uh... Sure." Isla nods. "I mean, if you wanna come..."

"Yeah, come on." He gets up from the table and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair before walking toward the door.

As the pair make their way to the bar, walking down the sidewalk, Dean ends up a few paces behind the blonde, and he can't help thinking about what Cassie said — that he and Isla may be just friends now, but she apparently sees that changing in the future. But that can't happen.

Can it?

Things are supposed to be professional. What if they got involved, and it somehow affected them during a job? Someone could get hurt, or worse. It doesn't help that she's already gotten hurt once, and he blames himself for it. After all, the shifter was going after the girlfriends of the guys that he was pretending to be, and whatever he saw in Dean's head led him to Isla.

It could've just been that she was the nearest woman with any sort of connection to Dean. But he had the Impala, and the drive from St. Louis to Cape Girardeau is roughly two hours. If the whole point of the shifter's sick game was to get to the woman he cared for the most, wouldn't the drive have been worth it? Especially considering how unlikely it would've been that they would've caught up to him? He could still be alive right now.

So going after Isla was a deliberate move...right?

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. He's giving himself a headache with all of his overthinking. Obsessing over the shifter's motives is pointless — he'll never know why the sick bastard went after Isla. It just is what it is at this point.

Move on, man.

Isla slows her pace so that she's walking beside Dean instead of ahead of him. "So, what made you decide to come with me?" The blonde asks as she looks up at him. "Wanna see if things can get worse than the last time you and I went to a bar together?"

"No." He chuckles as he glances at her. "Definitely not."

"Just decided you like my company then?" She raises her eyebrows. "Or are you cruising for a hook-up? 'Cause I can totally be your wingman... Wingwoman?"

"I just thought we could get a drink together." He tells her. "That okay with you?"

"Sure." She nods, a small smile on her face as they start across the parking lot to get to the bar's entrance. Dean opens the door and lets her walk in first, and she says a quick thanks.

"I'll grab us a couple of beers. Why don't you see if you can get us a pool table?" He says, and she nods before walking across the bar on her own.

After two games and a few beers, both are feeling the effects of the alcohol, and Dean starts teasing Isla because she's lost both games that they've played so far. She narrows her hazel eyes at him as she leans over the table, and then refocuses her attention. She misses again, and her head hangs before she stands up straight.

"Sorry, angel face." Dean chuckles as he rounds the table to get to the cue ball. "Some of us are just naturally talented."

"Oh, is that it?" She questions as she stands directly across from him, and he smirks as he looks up at her. "Okay." She nods as she rests her palms on the top of the wall on the table, and his gaze momentarily falls to her cleavage, which was pushed up by her arms on either side of her chest when she leaned over.

Dean clears his throat as he looks away from her, returning his attention to the game. He misses the shot, and Isla chuckles as she stands up straight, knowing exactly why he was distracted. He looks back at the blonde before rounding the table and then stopping in front of her. She raises her eyebrows as she looks up at him, her hazel eyes meeting his green ones.

"You did that on purpose?" He asks skeptically, and she smirks. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Isla says, and he nods slowly.

"You know, I can help you. Maybe you won't lose as badly this time around."

"Would you? That'd be amazing." She smiles, her tone containing a bit of sarcasm, and he has to fight back a smile of his own.

"Come here." He has her hold the pool stick properly, and his hands settle on her waist. "Don't lean straight over the table." He says as he rotates her hips slightly, letting his hands linger there a moment longer before pulling away from her.

Isla then takes her next turn, and this time she sinks one ball, but misses the next. Dean hits one in, and then walks around the table to where the cue ball is, and it happens to be next to where Isla's standing. She doesn't move out of his way; instead she smirks as she looks up at him, and he stands directly in front of her.

"I need you to move a little bit." He says, a smirk playing at his lips as he looks down at her. Isla takes a step toward him, her chest lightly brushing against him, and he chuckles.

The blonde smiles, clearly amused by her own actions, and starts to take a step back, but stops when he suddenly reaches out with his free hand and places it on her hip to keep her in her place in front of him. Her gaze stays on his as he searches her face, then he takes her pool stick and leaves it against the wall with his.

Isla looks from the sticks to him as he raises his now free hand and brushes a curl away from her face. He then starts to lean down as his hand moves to her waist, creating butterflies in her stomach, and he pulls her closer to him as he lightly presses his lips against hers. Both of their eyes are closed now as her hand slides up his arm until her fingers move gently through his soft, brown hair.

Their lips move in sync as his right hand settles on the small of her back, and he pulls her body flush against his. The kiss is slow and sweet, and Dean can taste the strawberry lip balm that she always wears. After a few seconds, he pulls back and rests his forehead against hers, both of them taking a moment to catch their breath.

Dean then moves his hand from her hip to rest on the side of her face, and she opens her eyes to find that he's already looking down at her. The corners of her mouth pull into a smile as she looks into his apple green eyes, and he smirks as he looks away from her for a moment.

The blonde clears her throat as she takes a step back, causing his hand to then fall back to his side. "Let's make this game more interesting."

"Oh, I think we already did." He says as he looks back at her, and Isla fights back a smile.

"New game." Isla says. "Loser gets a tattoo of the winner's choosing."

"You haven't won a game yet." He reminds her, and she shrugs.

"I've always wanted a tattoo, but I could never decide what to get." She tells him, and he looks at her skeptically. "What do you say?"

"I don't know." He shakes his head.

"Why not?" The blonde takes a step forward again as she looks up at him. Her fingers curl around the fabric of the gray flannel that he's wearing. "Afraid I'll pick something girly?"

"Assuming you win?" He questions.

"You think I can't?" She quirks an eyebrow, and he smirks.

"Alright." Dean nods. "You're on."

Two turns — that's all it takes for Isla to win the bet.

The blonde smiles as she looks up at Dean. "So, just black ink?" She asks. "I hear color tattoos can fade and then they don't look as good anymore."

His green eyes find her smiling face, his jaw slack, and she chuckles. "You hustled me."

"Kind of ironic, don't you think?" She sets her pool stick down so it's leaning against the wall. "I mean, this all could've been avoided if you'd been the one to teach me."

"You..."

"I'm thinking something with hearts." The blonde says thoughtfully. "Maybe I should mull it over while I have another beer."

Isla starts for the bar, but Dean rushes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist to stop her from actually getting there. She laughs as he picks her up and heads for the door, saying that she's had enough. He sets her back on her feet once they're outside, and she grabs his hand to pull him in the direction of the tattoo shop that she saw on their walk over — which is where she got the idea for the bet between the two of them. He totally missed it because he was lost in his thoughts most of the way over.

They make it to the shop, and the artist looks up at the pair after they make their entrance. She's a dark-haired woman with tattoos covering both of her arms, as well as her neck, and what's visible of her chest. The woman watches the two hunters as they look at the artwork on the walls, the little blonde joking as she points different things out, saying that she's gonna make him get things that she knows he'd hate. Dean, still holding Isla's hand, pulls her closer to him and whispers something in her ear, making her laugh as she looks up at him.

"You two are lucky — you came in on the last day of a deal." The artist says, gaining their attention. "Two for the price of one — depending on the sizes, of course."

"You hear that?" Dean asks as he looks back at Isla. "You can still get one."

"Ooh." The blonde smiles. "But you don't get to pick it."

"Come on!" His eyebrows furrow. "You're picking mine."

"No, you lost the bet." She argues. "You agreed, a deal's a deal."

"But—"

"Dean."

"Isla." He tries to argue, but concedes when she narrows her hazel eyes. It's an action that he finds cute, and not at all intimidating. "Fine, but I have to at least like the damn thing."

"M'kay." The blonde agrees as she walks farther into the shop, looking at more of what's on the walls, and in a book on a desk toward the front of the shop. She's hoping for an idea.

"I'm not getting a tiara tattooed on me." He shakes his head as he looks at the picture that she keeps going back to.

"What about a crown? Like for a king?"

He hesitates for a second. "If you can't find anything better before she wants to kick us out." He says, and the artist chuckles, clearly finding the pair amusing.

"You two are alright. I don't mind staying open a little later tonight." She tells them.

"Why can't you be nice like her?" Isla questions, and Dean pinches her side. "Ow!" She turns and glares at him, and he chuckles as he leans down and kisses her cheek.

"Pick something."

"How about a slice of pie?" She asks, making him laugh as he shakes his head at her. "Ooh, look, a rose."

"Could you be more cliché?"

"Could you be more like Chandler?" She mutters as she pulls him with her to look through another little book.

"Who?" Dean questions, and she looks up at him.

"Chandler. From FRIENDS."

"Sorry, angel face, I don't watch nearly as much tv as you do."

"I've seen you watching Dr. Sexy, MD." The blonde says under her breath as she turns away from him again.

"What was that?" He questions.

"Hm?" She raises her eyebrows, but doesn't look at him. "Ooh, a dragon head."

"No."

"Okay, you know what?" She turns to face him. "Where's it going? Somewhere visible so that I can always remind you that I kicked your ass in pool." She tells him, and the artist chuckles as she listens to them.

"I thought you were picking all this." He says, and she smiles. "Oh, no."

"The side of your right wrist, under your thumb." She says. "That way you see it every time you write anything."

"Only if yours goes in the same spot." He tells her, and she shrugs.

"Okay."

"Hey, look..." Dean pulls her with him to another spot. "I like these designs."

"We are not getting each other's names tattooed on us." She shakes her head.

"Aw, come on." He smiles as he looks at her. "You don't wanna be stuck with me forever?"

"Not really." She says, and he narrows his eyes as he looks down at her. Her lips pull into a smile as she takes a step closer to him. "Hi."

"You're a pain in my ass." He shakes his head, and she chuckles as she leans into his side. "Just our initials?"

"Would you be open to suggestions?" The artist asks, and they both look over at her.

"Hey, what if we just let her decide?" Isla suggests. "You lost the bet, and I'm indecisive. I mean, she clearly has good taste." She says as she motions to the dark-haired woman.

"If that's what you want." Dean shrugs, not entirely sure why he's agreeing to let a total stranger have free reign on their tattoos. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's the look on Isla's face.

Dean has to go first so that he can tell Isla how much it hurts, and then the artist covers his tattoo with a flimsy piece of black plastic that she tapes down so that he can't see it before Isla's is done. Once it's Isla's turn, he sits on her left side and talks to her, holding her hand and distracting her from the needle, though it doesn't seem to be bothering her at all. She's laughing as she talks to Dean, and he has to keep reminding her to stay still.

Once the artist is done, she goes over everything that they need to do to take care of the tattoos so that they'll heal properly. Isla's excited to see what they look like, and Dean has a smile on his face as he watches her, clearly amused by how happy she is to have gotten her first tattoo.

They both have the coverings taken off their tattoos, and Isla smiles when she sees hers. "Hey, she used both of our ideas — mine was best, of course." She says, and Dean chuckles as he looks back at her.

Their tattoos are in the same place on their arms — just to the right of the inside of their right wrists. It's a cursive D and a cursive I with a small plus sign in between them. Something resembling —

𝔇+ℑ

The D has a king's crown on the top loop, resting on the left side of the letter, making it appear tilted. Its lines are thicker than the queen's crown that's resting tilted on the point on the top right side of the I. The thinner lines of the queen's crown makes it look daintier than the king's, but they're similar in both size and style.

"I like it." Isla says as she looks up at Dean.

"Yeah, not a bad impression for a first tattoo." He agrees, and the blonde smiles.

Isla's waiting by the door as Dean pays the artist, and he gives her a decent tip because he knows that she didn't charge them as much as she should've. The little blonde's looking at her tattoo as he then walks over to where she's waiting for him.

"She definitely thinks we're together." Isla says as he wraps his arm around her, pulling her against him as he continues toward the door.

"Mm. I wonder why." He mutters sarcastically as he leans down and kisses her, using his free hand to push the door open as she walks backward.

"I'm gonna fall."

"I'm offended that you think I'd let you." He smirks as the two continue walking awkwardly in the direction of the motel.

"Dean, I'm gonna trip." She chuckles as she clutches onto his flannel, trying to look behind her.

He loosens his grip so that she can move to his side, but he keeps his arm around her. They make it outside of their two rooms, and Dean takes a deep breath as he walks her all the way to her door. His arm tightens around her as he leans down and presses his lips to the top of her head, lingering there for a few seconds.

"You know, if you go to your room, you're just gonna wake up Minx. And then she'll wake up your brother." Isla says, and he pulls back to look down at her.

"You want me to come to your room?" He asks, surprised that she's saying anything to the like.

"I mean, if you don't want to—" She's cut off by him resting his hand on the side of her face before he leans down and presses his lips to hers.

Isla smiles when he pulls back, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. She then turns to unlock her door before leading him into her room, and they both leave their jackets at the table inside. The blonde looks up at him again, and he reaches out toward her so that he can pull her back into his arms. Dean brushes her hair away from her face as she looks up into his apple green eyes, and then he leans down to press another kiss to her lips.

"Think we'll regret any of this in the morning?" His voice is low as his lips brush hers, and she can hear the teasing tone in the question.

She smirks as her fingers rake through his hair. "Possibly."

"Mm." He chuckles. "Then we should make the most of this while it lasts." He says, and she responds by pressing her lips firmly against his.

The pair moves toward the bed, and Isla lays down, scooting up to the center. Dean discards his gray flannel before crawling over the blonde, reconnecting their lips the moment that he's able to. Her fingers tangle in his short hair, and he starts pushing her black shirt up as his lips move to her neck.

"Dean." She's trying to catch her breath as she looks at him, and he kisses her lips again. "Dean."

"Hm?"

"I... I've never..." Isla trails off, seemingly embarrassed to admit it, and he pushes himself up to look into her hazel eyes.

"You've never had sex before?" He asks, and she shakes her head. "Isla, I don't want you to feel like we have to do this. I mean, if you're not—"

"No, it's not that I don't want to." She tells him, her hand moving to rest on the side of his face as she looks up at him. "I just thought that you should know before anything else happened...in case it means that you don't want to..."

"It doesn't bother me, it's not an issue for me." He tells her. "What do you want to do?"

A smile tugs at her lips as she looks into his beautiful green eyes, and then she kisses him again as her hands move to pull his t-shirt up. He sits up quickly to shed the dark material, and then he leans down and presses his lips to hers once again.