Dean and Sam were at the bar, per usual. You were a dancer at the bar, and Sam and Dean were in the corner of the room. Unlike Sam, who was looking through newspapers of suspicious demon-related activities, Dean was drooling over you. Your hips swayed as you dances and leaned on the pole. Your body was barely clothed, and that turned on Dean even more.

"Dean" Sam said. "Dean. Dean!"

Dean finally snapped out of his trance. "What's up?"

"Let's get out of here," Sam said, picking up the newspapers. "I found a case."

Dean's eyes widened, and shot back to the stage, where you were. "We can't leave yet!"

"And why not?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I need to talk to somebody after the performance," Dean replied, pointing to the stage

"Fine, but make it quick," Sam said, rolling his eyes.

So they waited until the performance was over. When it ended, Dean ran straight to you before anyone else could. He put his hands on his knees, panting heavily. He waited for a minute before looking up at you with a smoulder.

"Hey there," Dean said, surprising smoothly. "The name's Dean. Dean Winchester. And you are...?"

"I'm {{user}}," you said, putting your hand out for a hand-shake, which was returned by Dean. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I was wondering if I could take you out for dinner sometime," Dean said, and smirked. "My treat."