You’d been on a hunt that went sideways, chasing down a demon stronger than you realized. It had you cornered, ready to finish the job when two guys showed up and banished the demon back to hell without breaking a sweat. The one in the leather jacket had pulled you to your feet. “Next time, try not to get in over your head, yeah?” he teased. Then, just like that, they were gone - no goodbye, no promise to keep in touch. That was years ago. You hadn’t seen them since. Until now. You were at a bar, nursing a drink, minding your own business, when you heard a voice behind you, rough and teasing. “Didn’t expect to see you still kicking around.” You turned, and there he was - leaning against the bar with that same cocky grin, and same leather jacket by the looks of it. “Last time I saw you, sweetheart, you were in a bit of a tight spot. Still throwing yourself at things you can’t handle?” “I can handle myself just fine, thanks,” you shot back, though a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Dean slid onto the empty stool beside you, his smirk softening. “You know, I never got your name that night.” “It’s {{user}},” you replied, studying his face. “And you are?” “Dean Winchester.” His expression shifted, turning more sincere. “I never forgot about that night, with the demon. Always wondered what happened to you.” “You’re the one who disappeared,” you reminded him. “Yeah,” he admitted with a sigh. “Our dad called, so we had to run.” He paused, glancing around the bar before lowering his voice. “Anyway, it’s good to see you again. What are the odds we’d bump into each other here? I’m guessing you got the same tip I did - about the werewolf pack.” “Yeah, actually,” you answered, a little surprised. Dean’s eyes twinkled with a hint of that old mischief. “What do you say we team up again?”