She entered the liquor store, her wavy golden hair bouncing in a ponytail pulled behind her head. The bell above the door announced her arrival. She quickly scanned the establishment, noting that it was quite a bit larger than it appeared from the outside. Maybe they will have a decent selection, she thought.

To her right was a gruff looking older woman with obviously dyed, pitch black curly hair that just brushed the woman's shoulders. As her eyes fell upon the woman, it was almost as if the woman could sense her and the woman turned her head to look directly at her.

"Help you find somethin' sweetheart?" the woman asked in the voice of a lifelong smoker with a withered face to match.

"Wine?" the blonde asked with a cheerful smile, thinking that this must be the "Bea" in "Bea's Adult Beverage Store."

Turning her head away from the blonde, Bea pointed toward the back of the store.

"Thanks!" the blonde replied, as she headed that way. She scoped out the aisles as she passed, marveling at the shapes, sizes, colors and variety that surrounded her. She had seen liquor bottle arrays at bars, in restaurants and the like, but she had no idea there were this many choices. New hobby as a taste tester, maybe? She mused to herself.

Consumed by her choices of wine, she only peripherally heard the bell above the door as it sounded for another customer.

"Hey, Bea," she heard a masculine voice say. "How're you today, beautiful?"

"You scoundrel," Bea responded, somehow making her raspy voice sly sounding. "I ain't been beautiful since you were in diapers." Bea chuckled a little.

"It's the beauty on the inside I see," the man replied.

It was obvious to the blonde woman, just vaguely hearing the exchange, that this was their normal routine.

Bea guffawed. "The only thing inside me is nicotine and alcohol."

The man wasn't swayed. "And those, my friend, are beautiful things."

Bea let out a hearty laugh as the blonde could hear footsteps moving into the store.

The comedy routine over, she refocused on the selection in front of her, again wondering why a city with a population less than 300 would have such a variety. She began picking up bottles, studying labels and Googling reviews to figure out what she ultimately wanted to purchase. The woman finally decided on a couple of bottes; one red, one white.

Her prize in hand, she started back towards the front of the store. Her phone beeped and vibrated, indicating that her lives had been refilled on Candy Crush. A recent obsession, she immediately started playing as she walked, the rest of the store fading away as she concentrated on matching the colors.

She was so engrossed in her game, that she didn't notice the man, crouched down, looking at a bottom shelf. She walked right into him, her foot catching his causing her to tumble forward. Luckily she had the good sense to hold tight to the bottles, and neither was harmed. The same couldn't be said for her cell phone that smashed as it hit the floor.

"Shit," she cursed as she picked up her broken phone, still not exactly sure what happened. She turned around and saw what she tripped over.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention," rushed out of her mouth as she saw the man, tall and muscular with chestnut hair and an air of being pissed off. From his worn jeans and boots to the flannel and plaid that covered his chest and arms, he screamed 'local' to her.

"Watch where you're going," he grumbled, dusting the dirty floor off of his pants. The grimace on his face turned to a half-smile as he took in his assailant.

She was shorter than him, but on the taller side, wearing perfectly fit jeans with some black utilitarian shoes. Her black hoody was zipped halfway up and revealing a deep red shirt underneath. She had golden hair pulled back away from her perfectly tanned face. She was biting her bottom lip, her mouth twisted in concern. And when he got to her eyes, they seemed like periwinkle skies that went on forever.

Her eyes met his stormy jade eyes and her expression immediately changed. She hadn't expected the depth and age she saw in his eyes, the triumph, the loss, the heartache, the raw power. She went from concerned to embarrassed and a blush painted her cheeks. The corners of her mouth did an uptick, forming a shy smile at the not-so-local.

"T-totally my fault," she stammered out, still a bit mesmerized by his handsome visage.

"Nobody's fault," he smiled wide, slightly amused by her embarrassment. "I'm Dean," he said as he stuck out his hand.

"Max," she responded, reaching for his hand, then giggling a little as she noticed both hands were full. She stuffed her broken phone in to the hoody's pocket and grabbed his hand.

The warmth and strength in his handshake reminded her about the promise she had made herself. She was going to be bold, daring, a destiny of her own choosing. She quickly turned her smile into one of confidence, even if it was just for show. Her eyes slightly widening as an idea hit her.

"Nice to meet you, Dean." She put special emphasis on his name. "Maybe I could buy you a drink?" She quickly added, "As an apology…"

Dean was taken a little off guard by her question. She didn't look like the women that usually asked him out and he wasn't looking for another relationship. There was also something innocent about her. That, along with all he had going on; his mom and Jack still being trapped in the other world, the threat of Michael and all the other monsters out there; left him hesitant to say yes. But a distraction might be good…

He looked at his watch. "Well, it's 10:30 and, if you haven't noticed, except for Bea, this town shuts down at 10:00. There's not really anywhere to get a drink," he concluded.

Max was not going to let herself be deterred. She took a deep breath and then replied, "Well, we could go back to my place for a drink. I wouldn't mind some help christening my new apartment." She held her breath waiting for him to respond.