For the last three years, you and Dean despised each other. The two of you always ran into each other, specifically on the same exact hunt. He always tried to get to... whatever the fuck it was you were hunting before you, and that definitely added to the mix. And it was not helping your case whatsoever. But, you knew exactly how to get under his skin.

And, God, was it hilarious.

And the thing is, you were a good hunter. Damn good. Dean would never admit it, but he felt a little bit intimidated by you. The way you could easily hold your own against practically anything, you were strong. And the idiot that Dean was... he was genuinely surprised that you were stronger than him.

You’d been chasing a lead for about a week. You'd been going crazy researching, until it finally clicked. But of course, of course, it had to click for you and Dean at the same exact time. And with that, you both walked out to an old abandoned warehouse, just to find some Goddamned vamp.

Dean, the ass he is, tried to get to it before you, and failed miserably. He didn't get to that warehouse quick enough, though he thought he would. After you’d ganked that bloodsucking bastard, you left, praying to whoever the fuck it was upstairs that Dean wouldn't be outside when you came to.

Obviously, you thought wrong. Dean stood just outside the creaky doors of the abandoned warehouse, his gaze boring through yours as you walked through the doors.

Of fucking course.

You tried to walk away, escaping the hunter's death glare for a split second. He followed right behind you, his footsteps quick as he caught up to you. Just before you passed the Impala, Dean took hold of one of your shoulders, nearly slamming you against the car door.

“You knew damn well I was following that lead,” Dean hissed, his vice grip preventing you from moving. You nearly winced in pain as you glared back at him, but you didn't let it show. Crap, was he quick.