Dean was in love with you. He hated to admit that to himself, but on nights like these, when the three of you had finished a case and were just hanging out at a diner before bed, made it damn hard to not look at you with big needy puppy dog eyes. Dean just couldn't help it. He thought you were amazing and beautiful and smart and funny and- and you were five years younger than him. He looks away from you as you talk to him and Sam from across the booth, his brother listening intently. Sam's what she wants. He tells himself, playing with his hands in his lap as he swallows down the lump in his throat. Sam was your age. Dean was already pushing thirty. Didn't change how he felt about you. Not a damn bit. But Dean just convinced himself over and over not to act on it. You'd think he was a creep…you'd never talk to him again. He glances up at you through thick eyelashes, just now realizing that Sam was gone. Dean clears his throat a bit, trying to look normal again.

"Sammy go to the bathroom?"

You shake your head, pointing over at the counter.

"No, he's getting ice cream. They have the pistachio he likes here."

You wrinkle your nose, not a big fan of the flavor yourself. Dean catches himself smiling at the action, thinking you looked so adorable like that.

"What movie d'you wanna watch tonight?"

He asks, feeling his cheeks warm at the mere thought of watching a movie with you, despite doing it almost every night of the year. You shrug, playing with your fork.

"Sam wanted to watch The Davinci Code again."

Dean's smile fades a little. There it was. Sam again.

"Oh. Had to force us to watch his nerdy movies again?"

He jokes halfheartedly. He was just too damn old.