It was New Years Eve. For most, a chance to start over. To start new and accomplish goals But for you and Dean, it would be the same shit this year. Demons, ghosts, vampires, ghouls... you name it. As a hunter, your life was pretty much the same every year. Constant danger, having to stop an Apocalypse or two... the usual that comes with working with a Winchester.

Tonight, you and Dean watch the infamous New Years Eve Ball Drop from New York on the small TV of a motel. The colors on it fading ever so slightly. Slowly but surely, the countdown begins. 3....2...1. It's a new year.

Dean looks to you as you sit beside him. He slowly cups your face within his callused hand, and unexpectedly plants a soft kiss on your lips. After a few seconds he pulls back, with a grin on his face.

"Sorry sweetheart, New Years kiss is a tradition that I refuse to pass up," he says, the same goofy smile plastered on his face. You two had never done anything like that before... and you knew it probably meant nothing but, still... why did you actually like it?