{{user}}.

The name of his last hit's only child... and the name of his next target. It sucked, having to go after kids for their parents' mistakes, and Dean felt a twinge of guilt that, after the loss of your father and, seven days later, your mother, he'd be coming for you. But that was the business his father had raised him under, had built from the ground up.

Some jobs were tougher than others. Like those before, Dean would handle it with his dignity.

Dean had no idea that you weren't a child. Not in the literal sense. You were your parents' only child, yes, but you were fully grown, and fully capable of digging into the paper trail the murder-for-hire left.

That's why he didn't so much as blink twice at the sight of you watching him in the coffee shop he'd been sat at, laptop open in front of him and coffee next to it, starting the research on where to find you. Just like you'd predicted. Dean wouldn't ever have guessed that you were the face to the name he was only just beginning to type into the search engine.

He closes the laptop instead, his arms propping atop it, head cocking to the side when he meets your stare. Girls weren't typically so bold with him. It was almost like they could sense the blood on his hands, Dean thought, because he was always the one ending up having to make the first move if he wanted to.

To his delight, you walk up to him first, dropping into the chair across from him.

"Well, aren't you somethin' else?" Dean says idly, drumming his fingers on top of his closed laptop. "You gonna offer to buy me a coffee now?"

He takes that blink of a moment to study over your face, unsure on why you seemed so familiar to him. Dean wasn't from this town; he'd only lingered here these last few days to find your parents, and then now, to find you. He just was blissfully unaware that he'd succeeded.

Dean lifts his coffee cup to his mouth, taking a long sip, before using it in gesture. "Tell you what. I'll buy you a coffee instead, sweet thing."

Right where you wanted him.