Words: 2727 words

Warnings: Language - the usual.

Summary: Something extremely fluffy and Dean/reader centric - as requested by 'Bad Wolf and Timelords' here on fanfiction.

AN: I finally got this one done. I really like how it turned out, actually. And don't worry, I made sure that I brought the fluff! Haha. Look to the bottom of the story - the other AN - for news on the other updates and such.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

The Sparrow and the Wolf

I.

The first time Dean wanted to tell her, they were in the library of the Bunker, researching poltergeists for their next case. It was just him and her in that large room - Sammy had turned in for the night a while back.

All he did was look up at her and he knew - he just knew that he was in love with her. It wasn't any big event. He just looked up at her - the large book in her hand, her body leaning back against the chair, and that lip biting thing she did when she was concentrating - and all other thoughts left his mind but one: I love you.

And that scared him. The fact that he could easily go from 'I care about you… maybe a lot more than is morally good for me' to 'I love you' scared the living hell out of him. And at the moment, he had absolutely no idea why. He had no idea what it was that in particular that made him love her or the reason as to why he was so scared about his small revelation.

So when she looked up from her book and asked him, "What?" when she saw him staring at her - with that book in her hands and her smaller frame relaxed against the wooden chair and that lip biting thing that managed to drive him completely crazy no matter where they were or what they were doing - all he could do was shake his head, reply with "Nothing.", and look back down at his own book - even if he knew that he wouldn't have the attention span at the moment to be able to throw himself into the research.

II.

The second time, he and Sammy had just returned to the motel after a pretty vicious fight with a werewolf they had been hunting. She had taken one look at the two and immediately went to the first aid kit, grabbing alcohol from Dean's bad as she rushed back to the brothers.

She opened the kit and started walking towards Dean. "Sammy's worse." She gave him an incredulous look before turning her examining gaze onto the younger Winchester, who was sitting down at the small round table in the kitchenette part of the motel room. She reached Sam and got to work, stitching up the more serious claw marks and putting butterfly bandaids on the ones that didn't need stitched..

She gave him plenty of alcohol - starting out as antiseptic until Sammy snatched the glass bottle and chugged down half the remaining liquid. Dean gulped - thankfully inaudible. It didn't look like there was much left and he didn't know how he'd fare without the liquor.

She finished pulling out the thread of the last stitch on Sammy's bicep. She took the glass bottle out of the younger Winchester's hand and set it on the table.

"C'mere, Dean." She requested as Sammy left the room in favor of a shower. "Don't tear your stitches!" She called out before he shut the door. Dean heard some mumbling behind the white door, but chose to ignore it as he took off his layers, leaving himself shirtless and under her - well, her needle's - mercy.

"Dean," He looked up at her, wondering why she said his name like she did. "You are such a fucking liar."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't try to fucking tell me that Sam's worse." She shoved the bottle into his hand. "Drink." She ordered. He did as he was told, not really wanting to get on even worse terms with the woman he had decided to call his girlfriend.

She took the booze out of his hand pouring the liquid over his larger - more severe - marks as she stitched him up. He hissed as the alcohol burned, screwing his eyes shut momentarily.

He heard her comment, "Poor baby." as she poked the needle in and pulled it out. Was she mocking him? He dared to look up at her and saw that little cheeky little smile of hers. It still surprised him, even after all this time, that his stomach did a little flip - a manly flip, mind you - whenever she looked at him. Even when it was like that.

He watched her as she tended to his wounds. He closed his eyes as her smaller hands touched his skin and the thread pushed and pulled into his skin.

After a little more involuntary hissing and cursing, she finally finished the last stitch. He expected her to move but she was still standing in front of him, her hands gently lying on his chest. Dean looked up to her, but her eyes were aimed elsewhere - unfocused as she reflected on something.

She finally looked up at him. "You're too reckless." She announced in a soft voice, her hands still burning holes into his skin.

He stood up and put his own hands on her hips, rubbing circles into the exposed skin between the top of her jeans and the hem of her shirt with his thumbs. He knew he was reckless - but that's what made him so good at what he did. And he didn't really want to have this conversation with her at the moment. "Babe-"

"I'm serious, Dean." She cut him off. "One of these days you're not going to come back - and then I don't know who'll be here when I need someone to blame for the knives not being sharpened." She laughed and smiled up at him, but he noticed that it didn't reach her eyes.

"I'll always come back to you." He reassured her. "Because I-" Because I love you. The thought entered his mind unbidden. It would be the perfect time to tell her, too. Even if he wasn't for chick flick moments. "-need to be there when you don't sharpen the knives." Real smooth there, Winchester. He berated himself.

But it worked. She reached up and kissed him quickly before putting the thread and stitches back into the first aid kit. She took the kit to Sammy's bag and tossed the now empty bottle of alcohol into the trash. "Looks like we need more booze." She said cheekily before sauntering out of the room and into the one that the two shared.

God, she - this woman he was so in love with - would be the death of him. And he didn't mind. Not one bit.

III.

The third time he thought about it, the two were lying in his bed with only the sheets covering their otherwise bare bodies. She was pressed against his side, her arm around his torso. His own arm was wrapped around her back, pulling her even closer to his warm body - if that was even possible.

She softly hummed in approval as he absentmindedly traced ancient ruins onto her side. He smiled at the noise and revelled in the feeling of her beside him, in his arms. Somehow, their legs had tangled with one another and she slowly started to trace the muscles of his chest.

Dean was going to tell her. He had to do it. He opened his mouth, ready to finally say what he's been wanting to say to her, "I like your hands." Fucking idiot. He thought. Where the hell did that come from? While it wasn't a lie, that's not what he wanted to tell her. Maybe she hadn't heard him.

"Really?" Damn it. He felt rather than saw her look up at him questioningly. It's not like he could take it back now.

"Yeah." He answered, inwardly flinching at how unprepared he was to put his feelings into words.

"Alrighty then." She laughed into the crook of his neck and he closed his eyes, lost in the vibrations against his skin.

He thought that she had fallen asleep and was about to do so himself why she mumbled. "And I like right here." She patted the space above his belly button.

He looked down at her smiling face skeptically. Why?

"Because it reminds me that you're human, I guess." She explained. Did he say that outloud?

"Yeah, you did." She answered him yet again. He really had to stop doing that.

"It sounds really stupid now that I think about it." She looked down to the side and away from his face in embarrassment. "But every other part of your body is hard - mostly muscle. Which kind of reminds of the Terminator, you know?" He chuckled. She wasn't a big Schwarzenegger fan. "And this - this soft spot - reminds me that you're Dean Winchester and not some robot here to either destroy or save the Earth - I can never keep track of those movies." She started to ramble in her sleepy state. "But the point is," She put herself back on track. "You're real and this squishy tummy of yours," She yawned when she said 'tummy' and Dean thought it was cute. "Just reminds me of that."

He shifted so that they were facing eachother. He pulled her closer to him and kissed her before resting his chin on her head. She tangled their legs again nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck. He returned to drawing shapes and symbols on her back and before long she was sound asleep.

He was soon lulled to sleep by the deep breathing of the woman the he was too afraid to say those three simple words to. I love you.

IV.

The three were walking around the abandoned house, looking for a way in that would surprise the group of demons inside.

She found a back door that looked like it led to a kitchen. She motioned for the brothers to come take a look. Sure enough, there was nobody in sight. The perfect entrance for the perfect surprise attack. Those sons of bitches won't know what hit them.

Sam went in first and then Dean motioned for her to follow his younger brother.

I love you. He wanted to tell her as she stood in the back doorway, looking at him with reassurance in her eyes. He knew that she could do this. Hell, when he and Sammy had met her so long ago, she had just gotten done with exorcising a whole group of demons much bigger that this one on her own.

He knew the risks that came with the gig. He knew that sometimes, people didn't come back from supposedly easy hunts. He knew that very well and he just didn't want that to happen to her.

But he trusted her. Hell, he trusted her with his life. And that wasn't something that came easy to him, just ask Sammy.

Maybe he would tell her when they finished this hunt. So he bottled up his thoughts and focused on one thing, ganking those bastard demons.

V.

The hunt was successful. Those demons didn't stand a chance again the three hunters. It was a bit tiring but they pulled through in the end. Now he just had to find the right time to tell her.

He took of his shirt and made his way to his side of the bed. He slipped off his jeans and slid under the covers next to her.

"Dean," He looked over at her, urging her to continue. "I'm too tired to do anything tonight." She admitted, looking like she was going to fall asleep any minute.

"That's okay." He commented and she smiled gratefully up at him. He pulled the comforter up as she turned away from him. He pulled her closer so that her back was touching his naked chest.

He loved moments like this. Where it was just the two of them, not having to do anything, just lying with each other. Literally just sleeping with each other. Whenever she was next to him, he slept better than he could ever remember sleeping. And waking up with her next to him or in his arms was one of the reasons why he liked waking up in the morning.

He could feel her starting to fall asleep in his arms and knew that he had to do this before she did or else he'd never have the guts to do it again. But what if she didn't feel the same way? What if she rejected him and then left?

"I love you." He whispered before he could stop himself. He closed his eyes, waiting for her reaction.

"I know." Was all she said.

"Really?" That was it? That was all he got for telling her what he had been feeling for so long now?

"Yeah." She answered. "You talk in your sleep sometimes." She explained.

"Really?" He repeated, skeptical that he could talk in his sleep and worried about what other things she might have heard.

"Usually I'm able to tune it out." She started, turning in towards him. "You dream a lot about pie." She explained, laughing softly. "But one night, I heard my name and couldn't help listening in. And then you said it. 'I love you.' I didn't know what to do so I just kept it to myself."

"How long ago?" He found himself asking.

"That night we were researching poltergeists." She admitted.

"That long?"

"Yeah."

"You've known for two weeks now?" He wondered how in the world she was able to keep it from him for that long. Usually she would unintentionally blurt something out at the most inopportune times. Like the surprise party for Kevin that one time. She was still apologizing for that.

"Yeah." She looked up at him, bit her bottom lip and his arms tightened around her. God, it drove him crazy when she did that. "It's given me time to think about how I was going to tell you."

"Tell me what?" Dean asked, urging her to go on.

"That I love you, too." She smiled up at him and he laughed. And then, before he could stop himself, he leaned down and brought his lips to hers. He could feel her smile against his lips as her fingers started to card through his short hair, causing a groan to pull out from the back of his throat.

She pulled away and yawned, and it was one of the cutest things that he had ever seen. She turned away from him again and he pulled her closer to him, so that her back was against his chest yet again. He sighed into her hair and let himself fall into the best night of sleep that he could remember with just three words. I love you.

AN: And that's it for this one. I really like writing this style - I think it's so much fun! From here on out I'll be jumping from request to request so if you find that you requested something and I haven't published it, don't worry because I'm probably working on it as you read. I've just got a lot of school work - comes with the territory of taking so many advanced courses your senior year - and I'm not sure when I will be posting something. But I haven't forgotten about you guys, so don't worry, m'kay? Comments, questions, concerns? You know what to do! Thanks to everyone who has read and liked my stuff. It really means a lot to me to know that people are enjoying this writing thing that I do. And a special thanks to everyone who actually reads these Author's Notes. I think that's cool!

Remember to Smile :)

~Becca