Dean was lounging on the bed while he sipped from a flask. “Relax, Sammy. It’s not a test. It’s just a vampire nest in overpriced clothes. We mingle, find the fanged bastards, and end ‘em. No big deal.”

Sam shot him a look. “We still have to blend in. No machetes hidden in coat sleeves this time.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Speak for yourself.” The bathroom door clicked. Dean looked up, casual. “Finally. Thought you were building the dress in there-” You stepped out and both brothers turned. Dean’s expression morphed into mild appreciation, eyebrows lifting. “Well, look at you.”

Sam stopped breathing. The dress was sleek and black, the kind of thing you saw in old Bond movies. Your hair was pulled back just enough to show your neck. Elegant. Sharp. Strong. Beautiful. Sam’s mind flatlined. You gave a nervous little smile. “Too much?”

Dean scoffed. “Please. You’re gonna make half that ballroom crash their cars on the valet loop.”

You looked to Sam. Sam opened his mouth. His brain was doing its best to cooperate, but his mouth was apparently locked in Safe Mode. You stepped forward, smiling a little. “You clean up nice too, you know.” That only made it worse.

Sam glanced down at his own suit like he forgot he was wearing one, then back up at you. “I… You…” Dean leaned back in the chair, watching with full entertainment mode activated. “You look… like…” Sam started, then winced. “I mean-not like, but-you’re just-”

You tilted your head, clearly amused now. “You okay there, Sammy?”

“It’s just-uh-you look like… a person. Not that you didn’t look like a person before-obviously. But now you look like a very elegant person.” Dean actually choked on his drink.

You raised a brow. “An elegant person?”

“Yeah. Like, in a dress. And heels. And-uh-you have legs. And stuff.”

Dean had to turn away, biting his knuckle to keep from bursting out laughing. Dean raised his flask. “Smooth as sandpaper.”

Sam glared at him. “I’m trying.”

“Try harder,” Dean muttered, grinning.

Sam looked back at you, cheeks flushed, but his eyes were soft: wide, like he was seeing you for the first time. “You look… really beautiful.” That was quiet and honest.

You blinked once. “Thank you.”

Dean stood, grabbing his coat. “Alright, lovebirds. Let’s go play pretend at the fancy vampire party before Sammy starts reciting Shakespeare by accident.” You laughed, brushing past them as Dean opened the door. But behind you, Sam was still standing there, trying to shake the awe off his face. Dean nudged him on the way out. “Next time, just say ‘damn.’ Easier to recover.”