A/N: Bela is a thief and Dean is hunting her. The twist: there is no supernatural. Dean works for Interpol and he's been chasing Bela over the globe for years.

Was the thief even human? Dean wondered, staring at the glossy chrome safe before him. Sleek, high-tech, and expensive, the supposedly unbreakable vault had proved to be nothing more than a hunk of metal for The Shadow.

The expert jewel thief, christened for his uncanny ability to slip away from authorities just as the noose was closing around his neck, had been eluding Interpol for eight years. Dean Winchester had been assigned the case half a decade ago; his temper was shorter every time The Shadow escaped, leaving nothing but a cold case of hot diamonds behind him.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the safe, the wall hanging cheerfully open. The thief had left a strand of pearls dangling around the lock as a final slap to the face, he noticed grimly.

He jotted down a note in his notepad, brow furrowed.

The Shadow could have fun for now. Dean was closing in on him.

The woman in the mirror leaned forward, arching her brows delicately in fascination. Casually skimming a graceful hand along the arc of her throat and down to her side, she widened her eyes dramatically, sexily smudged brown liner emphasizing sharp green irises, and cooed adoringly, "Oh, a detective? You must have so many interesting stories."

A beat passed, and then Bela Talbot's scarlet pout crumpled into a slightly irritated scowl. "That's not right," she muttered to herself, peering closer into the mirror.

She twisted a tawny curl around her finger, a dazzling smile lighting up her face as she gave a breathy giggle. "Or maybe…"

Bela pinned her hair up into a sleek French twist, then loosened a few strands to frame her face. "Better," she murmured, angling her chin from side to side to examine the effect.

She gave herself the time it took to coordinate her evening gown to her shoes to figure out her game plan for the night. Then a fresh swipe of lipstick, a few drops of her customized honey and raspberries perfume behind her ears, a pair of diamond stars twinkling at her ears, and Bela was finally ready.

"So what's a beautiful lady like you doing here?"

Bela gave a tinkling laugh, softening her sharp-eyed gaze to peer up at the man through her lashes. "Why, helping out the folks in need, of course."

The gala had begun barely over an hour ago, a fund raiser for a local orphanage. A pet project for the filthy rich, something to include on their tax forms. Bela had received information that the lead detective assigned to her case would be here, giving a speech about the importance of the city's youth. More than enough incentive to go. She was very interested in finding out how much he knew about her, and in any case…

Bela had never been one to turn down an excuse to play dress up.

Neither was she much interested in turning down conversation with a handsome stranger. With luck, he might even get a little loose lipped from liquor and let slip a bit of information she could use to blackmail him with sometime in the future.

They chatted briefly, then parted ways when someone wanted to introduce a relative to him. Bela wandered, gaze flitting over the men in the crowd. She was looking for a tall, broad-shouldered, green-eyed male stranger…

Not a bad way to spend a night, all things considered.

Bela was on her second glass of champagne by the time the speeches started, just enough to take the stress of officer-hunting off. She examined the speaker over the top of her glass; blue-eyed, blonde, and thin. Not her guy.

The next few speeches flew by in a blur of goodwill and lip service; or at least, that's what most of it sounded like upon Bela's cynical ears. The speakers switched for the last time and Bela took her time focusing on the next speaker.

Her gaze sharpened the moment it fell on him. It was the man she had spoken to so briefly before, and now that she was focusing, it was clear he was her guy. Dean Winchester. Her supposition was further cemented when he began speaking of his work as an officer for Interpol, and how important a good childhood was the raising a well-adjusted child, blah, blah, blah…

Oh, yeah. This was her guy.

Two hours and an expensive bottle of champagne later, they were back at his apartment and Bela was preparing an obliterated Dean Winchester to tell her everything about her case.

"So," she hiccupped, pretending to slur, "Dean, tell me about your work."

He shrugged, bringing his mouth to cruise along her collarbones. "What do you want to know?"

"Tell me a story, Detective," Bela purred, shifting her hand from his knee to his thigh and smiling that Cheshire smirk as his lips paused at her pulse. Steady as a rock. "You must have so many interesting stories."

A/N: Hello, readers! So this is going to be written in tiny little drabble form, taking you from scene to scene. It's definitely going to be a multi-chaptered fic and it's going to take you through their encounters together while he chases her as a thief and she eludes him and their time alone on other sides of the globe. Hence the title Chase Me.

Please tell me what you think! Any and all constructive criticism is appreciated.