*Mature Warning*

     We sorted things in the town and got Famine's ring, and we're not at Bobby's, using his bunker to store Sam. Waiting for the detox to be over, but the screaming, the yelling got to me. It sounded like he was in pain, yelling out our names repeatedly. Asking for help. None stop pain, but there was nothing I or anyone could do. Besides riding it out. Though I was in the main living room, I heard the back door of Bobby's house open. I tipped the neck of the beer bottle back. Allowing the liquid to slide down my throat and hit my stomach. I walked from the living room to the kitchen, placing the bottle onto the table, and walking to the back door.

I slung open the door, and was met with a cool breeze, but I stepped down the steps and followed who I guessed it would have been. In no time, I saw the back of Dean next to the Impala, his head tilted up as if he was praying to God for some help. He couldn't bear staying down in the basement, listening to Sam screaming. I came forward, the crunch of gravel under my feet, alerted him to a presence, but he didn't turn to check. Just stared up at the night sky, hoping for a miracle. I came beside him, and looked up at the sky as well.

"If there was anything I could do-" I stopped myself mid-sentence as my words couldn't help. He had billions of lives on his shoulders, and it was finally getting to him. "Don't be Dean the hunter with millions of lives on his shoulder," I began, my eyes still staring up at the sky. "Because that weight will crush you," I was hoping he was listening to me. "For tonight, this one night. Be Dean Winchester, not Michael's vessel. Not a Hunter, not even Sam's brother. Just Dean," as the words flew from my mouth I turned my body to him, and our eyes met and a tear ran down his face. I reached my right hand up, and placed my hand on his cheek, and wiped the tear away with my thumb. "The bravest men always have the difficult path to walk," a small smile appeared on my lips, as I was trying to give him comfort. Our eyes lingered at one another.

Unexpectedly, Dean' head shot forward and his lips crashed onto mine. I was stunned at his action, but after the day we've had. We sure needed some relief. The kiss was passionate, heated, and overall electric. My hands found their way to the back of his head, my fingers threading through his brown locks. Our lips departed, Dean's eyes were replaced with lust. I've been around a long time, and I know the 'look', when I see it. It kind of surprised me. But after everything we both needed this.

I pushed my head forward this time, reconnecting our lips, and started to make out. Dean grabs the whiskey bottle and it smashes to the ground, but we didn't stop. Dean's large hands cupped my cheeks as he pushed me back against the Impala hood. I moaned against his lips, as I felt his hands roam down my body, and grip under my legs, as he lifted me up, and placed me on the hood of the impala in one swoop.

We broke from the heated kisses, and locked eyes with one another once again. But Dean was a man, a man who knew who he wanted. I could see it in his eyes. I bit my bottom lip, and grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in. Our lips connected once again. However, in a blink of an eye, we were transported to my bedroom in my penthouse apartment.

Dean was too engrossed into this passion of ours. As he began to fondle at my clothing, tugging at them as he wanted them off. We broke our kiss, and I grabbed the hem of my shirt and ripped it clean over my head, as I watched Dean grab his own and pull it off. Throwing it to the side, and then took off his under shirt, to reveal that body of his. My eyes wandered his body, almost drooling at the sight. I quicked off my shoes, and next my tight blue jeans. I unbuttoned, and forced them down, kicked them away and stood in my underwear and bra. Dean also stood in his underwear, as we took one another in.

Was this really happening? I was focused on Dean, and where this was going to think straight. My urges took over, the desire to have him was strong, and his desire to have me was the same. I felt his body heat from here, just a few inches away. He shot forward, as we began to kiss once again. The heat between us was intense, and only grew. We both fell onto the bed, embracing one another. The silk sheets felt nice against my bare skin, as I rolled around and pinned him under me. Straddling Dean, as I pulled back from our kiss. My hair fell down, as we stared at one another.

I think we both needed a distraction, and this was it. I straightened my back, and wrapped my arms behind my back, as I undid my bra. Allowing the clasp to cling off, as Dean watched the show, enjoying every second of it. Once the bra was off, my breast hung out, firm and rounded. My nipples stood too. Dean leaned up and embraced me, pressing our bodies together. Our lips locked once again, and passion took over...

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Dean was the first to wake, he only could get a few hours sleep. His mind always went back to Sam, suffering in Bobby's basement. Though he knew it was the best, it kept him awake. Abigael was sleeping soundlessly next to him. She was laid on her front, her hair a mess, and her upper body visible, as the silk sheets started at her waist.

Dean slipped out of the sheets, and found his boxers - which were on the side table. Then he remembered Abigael flung them to the side. With haste, he pulled them up his legs and over his privates. Stretching out the band for a moment and snapped them in place. His eyes scanned around the dark room, but wandered around the bed to Abigael's side, to find his clothes scattered with hers. He bends down, plucking his clothes from hers and begins to dress himself. While Abigael was still sound asleep.

In no time, Dean was fully dressed, and he straightened out his flannel shirt. His eyes lingered on the sleeping form of Abigael, who just seemed perfect in her position. His body turned to the bedroom door, and crept towards it.

"Sneaking out?" Abigael's sweet British voice echoed through the room, making Dean come to a halt.

"Erm, I-I," he turned to face Abigael - who was now sat up, and held the covers over her naked body.

"You are the first guy to ever sneak out in the middle of the night," she couldn't help but smile at the thought. "But I'll let it slide," they smiled widened, as they stared at one another.

"Abby, about last night-"

"Never happened, I know," the smile faded from her face, as she turned serious. "I gathered that by you sneaking out," she scooted across the sheets, and held the silk sheet over her, standing up from the bed. "You do know you're in New York, right?" A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, as she walked towards Dean. He looked dumbfounded, but then he truly listened to what was outside. Though it was faint, he could hear the honks of cars, and the busy life New York is.

"You took us to New York?!" He exclaimed, eyes locking back on Abigael.

"Clean silk sheets. Well not know," Abigael bit her bottom lip, remembering what happened only hours ago. "Don't make this awkward Dean. It was just sex. We both needed a distraction, and this was it," Abigael felt no shame in what they had done.

"I'm not going too," he replied quickly, coming to his own defense. "Can you just send me back?" He asks, eager to leave.

"Geeze, never seen a man so eager to leave," Abigael laughed at the back end of her sentence. But it faded, as her eyes held seriousness to them. "About what Famine said-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Dean cuts off Abigael, as he couldn't bring himself to talk about it yet. "And I don't think you want to talk about yours," Abigael almost forgot about what Famine had spoken. Their eyes lingered on one another, as he knew she didn't want to speak of it.

"Bye Dean," Abigael spoke in a soft voice as she waved her hand up. Black smoke generated from the bottom of Dean, and flowed straight up his figure. His eyes never disconnected from Abigael until he was engulfed by the smoke. The smoke dispersed from the center, and Abigael could see Dean was gone and would appear back in Bobby's living room.

Their shared night would not be forgotten by both parties. How could one forget a night shared with the famous Dean Winchester...

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