[h3] Dean [/h3]

Dean could hear Lexi’s voice reacting to his touch just rattling around in his brain as he huffed, buzzing around the laundry room. He grabbed a couple of large blankets, draping them over his arm, before wiping a flustered hand down his face as he turned and Lexi tossed some sheets over his arm. He quickly brought his hand down to catch the top of them, smirking as he saw how flustered she was.

The temptation to lock them in this room and just continue their little meeting in the hallway was high, but Dean shook his head slightly, shaking the feelings down. He had to keep it together, keep his…head…on straight, and stop being so desperate. Just looking at the way Lexi stood and smiled at him drove him crazy and honestly frustrated the hell out of him.

“Great. Lets…lets go make a bed. I feel like we’ve adopted a child.” Dean quipped, turning toward the door. He balanced the blankets and sheets on one arm, and then pressed the cracked door open, stepping back into the hallway. It felt like a year, walking all the way back up to the door adjacent to Sam’s. Dean figured he would set her up rather close to Sam, because for the time being…he was making her Sam’s problem, if something went wrong.

He reached out and turned the doorknob, shoving the warded door open to reveal a simple desk, a dresser and a bed, like all the other rooms. He flipped the light switch and stepped in, quickly sitting all the blankets and sheets on the dresser to his right. 

“It’s bare, but it’s home for the time being…” Dean spoke up randomly, grabbing the fitted sheet from the top of the stack. He unfolded it, and as if he was dressing a bed in military barracks, he had the sheet placed and flattened on the bed within seconds. He stood straight and turned, grabbing the regular sheet and blanket from the dresser, tossing them to the foot of the bed with a clap. “And there. If she’s gonna be a hunter, she can spread her own sheet.”

Dean turned to Lexi, and immediately, the sound of her voice rang out in his head, and his throat went dry. Here they were, standing in a room. It was as easy as closing the door. All he had to do was close that door and they could get this out of their system, but no. This wasn’t [I]his[/I] room. This wasn’t the place. 

He stepped up to Lexi and gently took the pillows from her, turning and tossing them onto of the blanket at the foot of the bed with a smile, “There. I gave her a place to sleep. Whether she stays in here…well that’s a whole other issue Sam can deal with.”

Dean chuckled, and swallowed down the hammering in his chest as he glanced to the door and then down at Lexi’s lips. He couldn’t hear Sam and Anya. Anya’s quietness was going to be a pain, as she was hard to keep up with, and Sam seemed to be so gentle with her, he was practically mute, too. But not hearing anything except the faucet turn on as he listened carefully, Dean lost that little sliver of control he was holding in. He took a wide step forward, covering Lexi’s lips with his, one hand tangling tight in the hair on the back of her head and the other coming down to grip her hip. He walked her back quickly, bumping her against the desk in the corner, the old wood banging against the wall as he pressed her against the edge of the desk.

It was his turn to make little noises as a soft moan rumbled out of his throat, straight into the kiss. His fingers searched for skin against her hip, trailing soft touches under the hem of her shirt as he deepened the kiss even more, making his intentions very clear.

[h3] Anya [/h3]

Anya laughed with Sam and she tilted her head, teasing him with a look that said ‘You didn’t say you’re not’ in response to him being loud in bed. The fact that their tension was mutual, and still light hearted was even more exciting than the kiss they had shared earlier in the night. This was what she wanted, with him. She barely knew him. She wanted to be light hearted. She wanted to be sensual, since he seemed completely on board with it. She wanted to possibly be the one person who passed through his life that he remembered, after she inevitably left…after the case.

As he stood, Anya stayed for a split second to type a message that she could play. After pressing play, she stood and walked her own plate over to the sink, handing it over to Sam as she went to cover the food and put away the leftovers.

“I was implying that you don’t seem like a good whisperer. Let’s just say that. With all this tension, breakfast is going to be nice and awkward.”

As the message finished playing, Anya giggled, her giggle coming out as a breathy laugh behind Sam as she pulled down some aluminum foil from the shelf above the stove. She wrapped both pans in aluminum foil and, being careful to barely touch Sam as she passed through the narrow space behind him, she walked it to the fridge and placed it on the shelf, right next to the beer for Dean.

The kitchen was relatively quiet, and the wind outside rattled the metal upstairs of the bunker as Anya realized that now would be a great time to have a voice, and to be able to break some of the tension and silence with small talk. She turned and wiped what little liquid was on the counter top, and then wiped her hands on the towel and walked back over to the table, picking up her phone and leaning on the edge of the table.

“Your room?” She typed, pressing play and turning her eyes down to her boots as she waited for him to finish up at the sink.