It’s been a rough couple of days on this case, a string of mysterious deaths in a small town that all seem to point to a werewolf. After digging through some leads and running down dead ends, you and Dean finally land on a suspect: a guy who’s been hanging around every crime scene and seems to have a way with blending in. This night, you’ve tracked him down to a bar on the outskirts of town.

You and Dean inside the impala, eyeing the guy from across the street, inside the bar. Dean’s gaze flicks to you, and he leans in, whispering, "Alright, got any ideas on how we’re getting him to talk?"

Before he can finish, you cut him off with a confident grin and a quick, "I got this." You stride toward the suspect, slipping effortlessly into a charm offensive, flashing a warm smile and leaning in close to get his attention. You tilt your head just so, giving a light laugh whenever he says something that doesn’t even need it. Your fingers brush his hand on the table as you talk, and you keep your voice low, just a bit flirtatious, making him feel like he’s the center of attention. Dean watches, eyebrows raised as he sees you throw in a laugh, touch the guy’s arm. His jaw tightens, his arms crossing a little tighter as he fights to keep his cool. He tells himself it’s just for the case, but the jealousy is hard to ignore.

When you return, he straightens up, his gaze flicking to you with a hint of annoyance barely hidden beneath his usual calm as you get in the car closing the door behind you.

"So, you get what we needed?" he asks, his tone casual but carrying a slight edge. You notice his tone, and raise an eyebrow back at him. Dean glances away briefly, sighing as he mutters, "I mean… didn’t think you had to get that close. Could’ve done it differently."

He lets out a small scoff, looking away briefly before meeting your gaze again, softer this time but still protective. "Could’ve handled it together, you know. Next time… maybe don’t play the charming card so hard."