A/N: This is the first fanfiction I have ever attempted for Supernatural, but I am going to do my best to portray Sam and Dean's personalities correctly. Mostly Dean's as he is the object of my desires *sighs lustily*.

I haven't quite decided yet how closely it is going to follow the actual story line. If anyone has any ideas or suggestions, feel free to let me know!

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own anything but my OC. Boo.

The dimly-lit bar was crowded, musty, and entirely too warm for Sam Winchester's liking. Dean on the other hand, grinned broadly to himself as he weaved his way through the crowd of rowdy drunks. Sam sighed tiredly to himself as he followed the path made by his older brother's shoving.

"Quit being such a little bitch, Sammy." Dean demanded good-naturedly as he flagged down the bartender and ordered two beers.

Sam's cheeks reddened, "I am not being a 'little bitch', Dean."

"Yeah." Laughed the older Winchester, sliding one of the beers across the bar to his brother, "Whatever you say, Nancy."

"Look, we have been on this case for a week now and we've accomplished almost nothing. This is the tenth bar we have been to in seven days, Dean!" Sam threw his hands up in exasperation before lowering his voice and eyeing his brother seriously. "I get that you're still hurt over Lisa. I really do, but drinking yourself into a stupor every single night isn't going to fix anything. You've got to start focusing while we are on a hunt, Man."

Dean chuckled, but his expression was devoid of any humor. He set his jaw and narrowed his eyes at the younger sibling who towered over him. "Don't tell me how to do my job, Sammy. We're friggin' hunters for crying out loud! It's perfectly acceptable to blow off some steam every now and then."

"Dean..."

Sam flinched as his brother slammed his now empty beer bottle down onto the counter and stood, just bowed out and mouth turned down, "I'll tell you one thing. You mention Lisa... Or Jo... Or Dad one more time I'm going to knock you into next Tuesday. Do I make myself clear?"

Once again, Sam sighed. "Crystal clear, Dean. I'll see you back at the motel."

Dean watched as Sam turned away sadly and stalked out of the bar. Guilt caught in his chest and he snatched up his brother's untouched beer to try and drown it out.

"Rough day, huh?" A soft, slightly raspy voice caused him to jump.

He turned to find a thin woman dressed in tight ripped jeans and a grey tank top perched on the bar stool next to his.

"Rough year." Dean smirked, his eyes roving her petite body. Her long dark hair cascaded loosely around her shoulders and the striking amber eyes that stared intently at him were rimmed thickly with black liner. He casually shifted his gaze to her hand. No ring. She lazily trailed a finger that was lacquered with a shiny black polish along the rim of her drink. Whiskey on the rocks, Dean noted.

"I can relate." She offered a wry smile that almost knocked Dean Winchester's knees right out from under him. "I'm Allyson."

"Dean." He replied, leaning back against the bar much closer to the girl than what was necessary. She smelled sweet with a hint of cigarette smoke and liquor mingled in.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Dean." She leaned in even closer than before and whispered, "You know what makes a rough year seem not-so-rough?"

Before Dean could answer a shot of whiskey and another beer was placed in front of him. Allyson held up her shot glass and nodded resolutely, "To a better year!"

She clinked the tiny glass against his and they both tossed them back. Dean grimaced slightly as the liquid burned its way down his throat. When he opened his eyes he saw the pretty girl smirking back at him, another shot held out as an offering. The Winchester brother chuckled and accepted the drink.

This is going to be a long night, he thought to himself in amusement. After all, there wasn't much that Dean Winchester liked more than a pretty girl who could hold her liquor. Except maybe a naked pretty girl who could hold her liquor. He found his eyes trailing down her milky neck to the low cut neckline of her tank top.

"Sorry to interrupt your ogling, but this is my song!" Allyson exclaimed as Rock and Roll by Led Zeppelin blared from the jukebox. She leaped from her sit, casting a flirtatious glance back in Dean's direction. "You coming or not, Casanova?"

Dean held his hands out, "Sorry, Sweetheart, I don't dance. I'll be here when you get back!"

She shrugged, "Suit yourself!"

He watched as she twirled and swayed her way through the crowd of people. A smile tugged at his lips at the mere fact that no one else was dancing. She had clearly had a few too many whiskeys already.

"It's been a long time, been a long time,

been a long, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time.

Yes it has."

The irony of those lyrics weren't lost on him as he turned back to his beer. It had been a very long, very lonely time since Lisa had lost her memory and Dean had cut both her and her young son, Ben, from his life.

"It's been a long time since the book of love,

I can't count the tears of a life with no love.

Carry me back, carry me back,

Carry me back, baby..."

Dean cleared his suddenly tightened throat and ran a hand tiredly over his face. He was beginning to hate this song, though he never thought it possible to despise anything Led Zeppelin played. However, he had a half-amused thought that this song was practically his theme song.

"I swear this is like my theme song!" Allyson announced very loudly as she sagged back into her chair. A very appealing film of sweat glistened on her skin and her eye liner was slightly smudged under her eyes.

"Open your arms, open your arms, open your arms, Baby!" She belted out, "Let my love come running in!"

Dean couldn't ignore the way his heart was hammering inside his chest, nor was he able to suppress his urges any longer.

"What do you say we get out of here?" He whispered huskily into her ear, as he leaned forward letting his lips gently graze her neck when he spoke.

Deans hands trailed over her soft, ivory skin as their mouths pressed hungrily against one another. She was straddled atop him clad in only her very tiny lace underwear. She shifted so that her weight was pressing against him in a very satisfying way. Her tiny fingers caressed his stubbly cheeks before knotting themselves in his hair. She tilted his head back and ran her tongue lightly from the base of his strong, square jaw to his ear. He felt his body shudder and buck beneath her. God, she was driving him mad.

Alright, Dean thought, Enough playing around.

He simply couldn't take it any longer. He slid one rough, callused palm up her back, before hooking his fingers around her bra strap and effortlessly popping it loose.

"That's quite skillful." She murmured against his neck, "Done this before, huh?"

He couldn't help but grin, "Once or twice."

He cupped his hands over her small, but perky breasts nearly losing his mind when he felt her slender fingers loosening his belt. He held his breath and bit his lip before muttering out a string of impassioned curses while her fingertips brushed lightly over his hip bones.

Groaning he struggled slightly to re-position himself in the cramped backseat of the Impala.

"Usually I go for a bed, though." He admitted.

A mischievous expression danced across her face as she yanked off his jeans, causing him to gasp.

"Now where's the fun in that?" She smirked.

A/N: Just a brief little steamy scene to start off with. They'll get steamier later on, my fellow dean-lovers, I promise! Let me know what you think! There's more to come soon!