[h3] Duke and Dean [/h3]

As Esme turned around, Dean knew that body language. She was annoyed as hell with him, to the point that it was bordering on him pushing her away, all over one little reactionary moment. Dean groaned as she began to speak, wanting to interrupt her, but he knew better as she released the safety on her gun. So, instead, he turned to glare at Duke, who smiled brightly at the comment Esme had made about going out with him for a drink.

Both Duke and Dean flinched slightly as Esme fired her gun, hitting every target she fired at while explaining her problems with Dean’s behavior to the letter. Dean shook his head, holding a hand out, trying to find a point to get a word in to defend himself, but as she fired the last shot and put the safety back on her gun, he sighed and dropped his hand, once again glaring at Duke.

Duke shrugged and tilted his head, smirking as he let the rim of his hat cover his eyes for a moment, making Dean stew and listen to Esme, without his eyes to burn a hole into. Dean shook his head, “I know that…”, he replied to her comment about her ability to take care of herself. Of all people, Dean knew that. He just felt the need to protect her heart, over everything else, even if his was a little cold and jaded. She didn’t have to be that way.

“No…no of course not. I don’t think you would do anything to hurt anyone. I’m not a saint and I know how people see me.” Dean started, pausing for a moment before pointing, “But that’s why I worry…you’re good. Your heart is good. You let people in, and you…you take care of them.”

“Even when they don’t deserve it…” Duke chimed in, keeping his head down as Dean paused and then tossed a hand out toward Duke as if he had a point.

“Even if they don’t deserve it, all the time. I just worry about you getting your heart broken…” Dean finished. Duke shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He knew that Dean was referring to his inability to not run away from people, when he got attached. That must have been what Dean told her about him. Dean had told her that he was a ‘bolter’. The thought, especially now that he had even a small connection with Esme made him want to punch Dean in the face, for even trying to keep him away from her. But he knew that would only push Esme away more…but not from Dean.

Dean stepped away from his frozen spot and stepped past Duke, who just awkwardly turned as he walked by. He stepped up behind Esme, and reached out, placing a hand on her hip to pull her into him. He leaned in and buried his nose into her hair on the back of her head and took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. Really. I’m sorry. I protect too much and I’m aggressive and rude. I don’t do ‘I love you’ and I don’t do good with…not getting my way.”

He paused and pressed a feather soft kiss to the back of Esme’s head, tilting his head to rest his forehead against her hair, “If I walk into that house and I answer those phones…and I give you some space, can we start over? Can I talk you into helping me dig out of this hole?”

Duke rolled his eyes, awkwardly scuffing a boot against the grass he stood on. He kept his eyes turned down, trying to focus on anything but Dean groveling his way back in, while fixing absolutely nothing with Duke…as usual. He was tempted to just go on about his day, and go back to the house, but if he did, Dean would see he was bothered. It was either that, or Esme would see he was bothered…possibly a little jealous, and she would never look at him the same way.

“I’m startin’ to think we might need some beers.” Duke chimed in out of nowhere. Though, what he was really thinking about was whisking Esme away from all this hovering and lack of rest and relaxation, to a bar. He could loosen her up, and bring her home in a much better place than she left it. Judging by Dean’s sweet talking, he didn’t see that happening. 

Wait…was this jealousy? Or some sort of guilt?