04 – Left Field Offer

You move, I move.

Selina had broken into a motel room within the same area as Dean. The first thing that crossed her mind was shower. It was not the ideal one to take, as the only setting the water had was ice. She endured, as she scrubbed herself practically raw. It would not scrub Hell off of her, but at least she could remove the dirt and bugs.

Currently, she was waiting to see if he was going to embark on another murder spree anytime soon. What am I supposed to do? Prevent him from killing people? That doesn't sound like something the King would want. Selina was still baffled by this. Was the King worried that Dean Winchester would want Hell's throne or something? He didn't seem that interested in taking over.

So, really, what did the King have to fear?

Selina's stakeout fell into night. She was amazed that Dean had stuck around that long, considering the condition of his room and now non-existent door to said room. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms. She hadn't felt the need to shut her eyes and sleep since...well, since she landed in Hell, really.

Being in Hell, becoming a demon, was one long, endless walking nightmare.

Dean's figure slipped out of his motel room. Selina watched him intently until she deemed there was enough of a safe distance to tail him. She followed him through the dark, her eyesight very accustomed to this type of lighting. She saw him trying to hotwire someone's old car.

Selina shook her head. Like he could get that started. But soon enough, she heard the engine activate. Not wanting too much distance put between them, she hurried to a trot, hoping he was more focused on his getaway than his pursuer.

The closer she got to the car, she noticed he'd disappeared. That can mean—

Selina yelled as she was taken out from the side. She was quickly pinned to the cool pavement, with an angry Dean Winchester sporting his black demon eyes over her.

"What is your problem?" he demanded harshly. "I told you to scram."

"Takes more than words to scare me off."

"You got some obsession with me or something?"

"Not at all. You aren't that much of a looker."

For that, Dean grabbed her face and squeezed on her cheeks. "You ain't much yourself, bucktooth."

Irritated, Selina lashed out with some power. She launched Dean off her, rubbing her sore cheeks. He landed on his back, near his getaway car. Selina despised that name. "Watch your mouth."

"Or you'll what? Kill me?" Dean laughed. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm un-killable."

"Nobody's invincible." With a closed fist, Selina narrowed her eyes towards Dean. She wasn't sure what she was expecting to happen, or hoping for. She felt her power through her veins, but nothing was happening.

"I'm waiting," he said rather impatiently.

Selina grew frustrated. Why aren't these stupid powers working? She stomped her foot in aggravation.

Dean started to head for his idling getaway car, but Selina called on her power. He looked as though he was moving through water, her power allowed him little movement.

"Let me go," he demanded.

"No." Selina walked closer, maintaining her concentration.

"You're a whole lot of stupid, bucktooth."

"So are you for calling me 'bucktooth'."

"Sorry. How does 'bucktooth bitch' sound?"

For that, Selina punched him across the face. It broke her concentration, allowing Dean to stumble forward. Anger rose in Selina's belly. I fucking hate him. I fucking hate the King. When I get my hands on him—

"Oh, you're trying to be intimidating," Dean remarked. He wiped a dribble of blood from his mouth, looking mildly impressed. "Well, I'll be. I was expecting your hand to break, honestly." He flexed his hand. "I'll tell you what: what I said about leaving me alone? I'll take it back. How about you come with me?"

This is out of left field. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Think about it: you've got no leash, no strings to hold you down. Enjoy all the luxuries the world has to offer! You in? Because if not, it's your only shot."

This change of course startled Selina. She wasn't sure what to think. Was Dean serious? Did he suspect she was up to something? Was he going to use her as some sort of sex toy, or—or pawn with whatever scheme he had going on in that brain of his?

There can't be much that goes on in that brain, Selina thought to herself. All he thinks about is murder. A one-track mind. He only wants to kill for fun, for sport. He gets off on it.

"Look, I can't seem to shake you," Dean interrupted her inner dialogue. "So, I might as well offer you a chance to live the good life. Don't worry, I'll make sure you do so properly. Currently, you ain't enjoying life as you should be."

Selina sucked in a breath. This was going into deep territory. Potentially fatal territory. "Are you just gonna run the car until it burns all its gas?"

"I'll take that as a yes. Get in."

The two demons entered the car. Dean took over driving, Selina didn't get a say. She grew impatient as Dean fiddled with the damn radio, trying to find a station that had good music and decent signal.

"Ah-ah," said Dean, smacking Selina's fingers away from the radio dial. "Driver picks the music. Shotgun gets no say."

"You gotta work with me here, I took the offer," Selina protested.

"When you drive, you call the music. Until then, you listen to what I pick. You have a problem with it? Once we start moving, I'll be happy to leave your door unlocked so you can tuck and roll on out. Don't think I'll turn around for you, either."

Selina rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest. Neither wore seatbelts as Dean tore the stolen car out of the motel parking lot. The car accelerated fast. Selina didn't mind that they were going over the speed limit. In fact, she was sure Dean was doing it on purpose to get a cop to chase them, or to maybe strike fear into her.

As Dean drove the two to an unknown destination, something red—almost looking like burned tissue—was peeking out from Dean's right shirt sleeve, which was currently rolled up. The curiosity hung on Selina's tongue, but she wasn't sure if asking about it was a good idea. She was lucky she was this close to Dean as it was. She wasn't supposed to get to know him, that wasn't the assignment she was given.

But Selina's brown eyes couldn't help but wander...

"You keep staring anymore and you'll get yourself a lady boner."

Selina cleared her throat, eyes out in front of her. "I wasn't staring at your junk."

"Sure you weren't. What was that you said earlier, about me not being much of a looker?"

"You know, you think pretty highly of yourself. You might wanna knock that down a peg before your—oh, who am I kidding? Your ego is bigger than your damn head, or your dick."

Dean's face slipped into a frown. "I don't mind the flattery, with you looking, but don't eye me up like meat. And don't insult my junk; you can't insult what you haven't seen before."

The female demon rolled her eyes. They blew past a speed limit sign. The speed was marked at 45; Dean was going 70. "I noticed the little beauty mark on your arm."

Briefly taking his hand off the wheel, Dean pulled down the sleeve, covering his arm. "None of your business, buck—"

"If we're gonna tolerate each other, that name has got to stop. Or I'm tucking and rollin' out of this damn car."

"Then by all means, do, because I'm not gonna stop because you're getting all sore over a damn nickname."

"It's not a nickname, it's an insult."

Dean whistled. "You got the thinnest skin I've ever seen. That's gonna change. If you don't thicken it up, I might just kill you myself."

Selina swallowed. Though she didn't know much about Dean Winchester, she assumed that his threat was not a bluff, and not a threat at all. It sounded like a promise. 

**All right, so, I'm sure some of you had a kinipshit (I think that's a word) when Dean didn't correctly say his old quote "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole". Well, see, this is a Demon!Dean fic. Fetus!Dean is known for that quote; Demon!Dean...not so much.

If you didn't already notice, I love writing the banter.**