Your stomach filled with butterflies as the hot Texan man approached the car after it had broken down. He was dressed in his typical cowboy attire: the hat, the boots, the whole package.

He stepped up to the window and leaned inside, his hands resting on the ledge as he glanced at your car. "Oh, well, damn. That ain't good," he murmured.

"I'm Dean, Dean winchester" he offered his hand to shake.