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You're Not The One I Was Looking For

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You're not the one I was lookin' for but–
You're the one for me (you're the one)
I'm not the one you were lookin' for but–
You can't go wrong with me
You're not the one I was lookin' for but–
You're oh so good for me
—Blue Oyster Cult


"What's that on your arm?"

Dean stretched and yawned. "Whaat's whaaat?"

Sam pointed to his arm. "That."

Dean looked down at his left forearm to see a bright blue smudge. He scratched lazily at his stomach with his other hand. He squinted at the smudge. He licked his thumb and rubbed it over the smudge a few times trying to scrub it off. It didn't come off. Must be permanent marker. He shrugged. "I dunno Jo or Charlie probably failed at drawing a dick on me last night."

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. Dean grinned because having your friends draw dicks on you while you were drunk was a rite of passage. Sammy would get it one day. He pulled Sam into a headlock and hauled the bony nerd into the kitchen. "Mom and Dad not up yet?"

"They went out grocery shopping like two hours ago." Sam said, shoving Dean off him. "And they're pissed you were out until five in the morning."

Dean made a flippant gesture and scoffed, "I've seen their high school year books. It's Winchester family tradition to live it up in your final year of high school."

"I think Dad's exact words were, grounded for his final year of high school." Sam said, hefting himself up to sit on the counter.

Dean shrugged. "It was worth it."

"Where'd you go anyway? Charlie's?" Sam asked. "She told me she was throwing a party this weekend."

"Yeah. Why didn't you go if she told you about it?" Dean asked. He pulled the fridge open. His stomach grumbled, agitated from a night of drinking. Normally he had an iron stomach but he actually felt a bit sick this morning. Queasy almost. And his skin felt crawly and warm. Whatever. He just needed to get some food into himself. He was a Winchester. He didn't get hangovers. He was probably just hungry.

"Because I'm fourteen."

"So?" Dean spied a box of leftover take-out from the burger joint beside the bookstore. And sweet leaping Jesus was that left over pasta? Yes, it was. Dean took out his prizes and set them on the counter. He opened the take-out container. His eyes rolled back into his head as he groaned. "Clearly the gods of fast food favour me this glorious Saturday morning."

"Afternoon." Sam chipped in.

"Semantics." Dean said as he started in on the half eaten burger. He had half the burger in his mouth before it sunk in what Sam had said. Afternoon. He turned to Sam, mouth full. "Aff'er'ooom? Wh'a-im is't?"

Sam checked his watch. "One."

Dean's eyes went wide. He swallowed his mouthful of burger so he could swear. "Shit! I'm late!"

"You're working today?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Me and Jo swapped shifts for the rest of the month." Dean shouted over his shoulder as he bolted out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He tore his ratty pajama shirt off and did a quick sniff check of the pits. He could probably get away with just deodorant instead of a shower. He whipped around his room looking for clean clothes. He shoulda done laundry two days ago. Why was past him trying to sabotage him?

He found his jeans and boxers from last night. He picked them up intent on giving them a good sniff to see if he could wear them to work but they didn't even make it half way to his face before he was tossing them aside. They freakin' reeked like sex. And they were covered in a bunch of weird stains and...was that glitter? Whatever, the important part - because it was gross - was that they were crusty as hell.

"Ugh. What the hell did I do?" Dean wiped his hand furiously against his pajama clad leg. "Rob a craft store and come in my pants half a dozen times?"

He settled on a pair of khaki's that he normally wouldn't be caught dead in. Grandma Dee had given them to him for Christmas so Mom wouldn't let him give them away. But today Grandma Dee's old lady fashion choices were a blessing. Never being caught dead in them meant they were clean.

Dressed in his cleanest pair of socks and underwear, beige khakis, and a band shirt with only some holes in it he dashed out of the house. He grabbed his bike and took off to the bookstore already sweating bullets over how he was going to appease Bobby - his boss, Jo's dad - for being late again.

A couple of close calls with cars later and Dean was skidding to a stop outside Singer Salvage: Used bookstore and coffee shop. What it really meant was Bobby, the grumpiest old bastard around, skulked around the bookshelves and eventually disappeared while either Dean, Jo, or Ash manned the coffee kiosk and cash register. Dean rolled his bike inside intent on stashing it in the backroom. He brushed an arm over his forehead and wiped away the sweat from the ride over. He may have worked up a sweat on his bike but his blood still turned to ice when Jo glared at him. Jo was scary when she wanted to be and it looked like she wanted to be today.

"You're late!" Jo snapped.

Dean rolled his bike passed her as quickly as he could. "I know, I know. I'm sorry." He rolled his bike into the back room and shoved it into a cramped corner between a box of books and the lunch table. "I slept in!" He yelled over his shoulder.

"That's what I was supposed to be doing!" Jo shouted back to him. "Then dad was waking me up at ten because someone wasn't here to cover my shift!"

Dean grimaced. There were perks to being the boss's kid, like the near impossibility of getting fired, but it also meant your boss knew when you weren't busy and could drag you out of bed by force. Sure, Bobby was like a second Dad to him but he wouldn't want to work for his Dad for just that reason. He liked his plausible deniability. He jogged back out to the front. "Sorry, Jo."

Jo threw the apron at his face. "Sorry doesn't get me my four hours of sleep back."

Dean grinned. "Come on. It couldn't have been that bad. The rush doesn't start for another hour."

"It was horrible. And it's your fault." Jo said sternly.

"I'll come in tomorrow and cover your morning." Dean offered as he tied the apron on. He went over to the sink to wash his hands and scrub the dick off his arm.

"Slightly less horrible." Jo amended. She made herself a cup of coffee then went around the counter to sit in one of the big comfy chairs at the front of the store.

"What would make you love and adore me again?" Dean asked. He rinsed his arm off. The dick was still there. He scrubbed at his arm again. It wasn't coming off. Jesus, what had they done? Tattooed it on his arm? He scrubbed harder ignoring another wave of that warm queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He should have drank a bottle of Pepto Bismol before coming in at this rate. Maybe Winchesters did get hangovers once in a while and today was just his lucky day.

"Your solemn pledge to take all my shifts for the rest of the month." Jo said.

"Not happening. I don't like you that much." Dean joked. He scrubbed a little harder at his arm. He was tempted to grab the scouring pad they used on the coffee pots when Ash forgot to wash them for a couple of days. He turned the water on higher to see if a little water pressure would help. Maybe he could blast it off like one of those sandblaster things.

It didn't help get the marker off but it did help settle the might be sick feeling in his stomach as it cooled him down. He hadn't realized how hot he was from his bike ride over. Maybe he wasn't hungover. Maybe he was just a little bit overheated.

Dean rinsed his arm again. The blurry blue dick was still there. "What the hell did you and Charlie use to draw on me?"

"What?" Jo asked. She sat up and looked over the back of her chair.

"Last night." Dean said. He sighed and gave up trying to scrub the dick off. It was smudged enough that it didn't really look like a dick. Hopefully no one would notice. He shoved both arms under the cold water for a minute then splashed some cold water on his face. The queasy feeling went away as he cooled down. He grabbed a clean tea towel and dried his face. "Whichever of you drew the dick on my arm, it won't come off."

Jo glared over at him. "I dunno. Why don't you ask your new buddies?"

"What?" Dean asked as he dried his arms off. He glanced around the store quickly to make sure there weren't any patrons that might tip off the Health Unit. There was no one. He quickly shoved the tea towel up the back of his shirt to soak up the sweat dripping down his back. He was definitely getting out of shape if the ride to the bookstore was making him break out in a sweat. He tossed the used tea towel into the laundry hamper then dug around under the counter looking for the bottle of Advil Bobby kept stashed there. He could feel a headache coming on. Did people get headaches from overheating? Or was that a hangover thing?

"Those kids from the private school." Jo said. She stood up and headed back to the counter.

"The kids from the private school?" Dean scrunched his eyebrows up trying to think of who Jo could mean as he fought with the child proof cap of the bottle of Advil. He didn't know any kids from the private school. He didn't know anyone that knew anyone from the private school. He grimaced as he fought with the bottle of Advil and gave a self-satisfied ha! when he finally got the lid off. He poured out two tablets into his hand then popped them into his mouth and swallowed.

He stashed the Advil back under the counter then started making sure everything was okay with the till. Not that he didn't trust Jo but it didn't hurt to cover his ass.

Jo leaned on the counter and watched Dean check over the till. "Lester or something like that and his merry band of preppy assholes."

"Lester?" Dean didn't know a Lester. He scratched at his back as he thought over last night. His fingers dragged through beads of sweat. He seriously had to lay off the hamburgers if one little bike ride was getting him this worked up.

Dean scratched at his back again. He was starting to suspect he had pulled on the shirt he had worn to Bela's house earlier in the week. He hadn't wanted to go - Bela was kind of a snob - but Charlie was getting friendly with her so he'd gone for moral support. It had turned out that Bela had a cat that basically bee lined for him when he showed up. It was like it knew he was allergic to cats. 

"Yeah. You buddied right up to them. Especially that girl, Ruby, or whatever." Jo said. She narrowed her eyes at Dean. She reached across the counter and plucked at the neck of Dean's t-shirt. "Nice hickey by the way. I can count the teeth. If you and Lisa are on again she's going to be pissed."

Dean clapped a hand to his neck. That actually stung a bit. Shit. He grabbed one of the empty metal coffee pots and held it up. He bent his neck to the side. Oh. Shit. Lisa was going to be pissed. Well, maybe. He was pretty sure they were on again. A new wave of sweat broke out as he contemplated trying to explain to his probably on again girlfriend why he had a hickey. The worst part was that he didn't even really remember that Ruby girl. He couldn't even say it was worth the trouble it was going to cause.

"Get her number at least?" Jo teased.

"I don't even remember much about her." Dean said, tilting the coffee pot this way and that trying to get a better look. Had that chick broken the skin? It looked like it. Jesus. What kind of make out session had he had? "Why didn't you swoop in and save me from myself?"

"What?" Jo sounded surprised.

"What do you mean what?" Dean said. He shoved the coffee pot back down. Looking at the massive hickey wasn't about to make it go away. "What happened to our long standing agreement of bailing each other out from our own stupid screw ups?"

Jo arched an eyebrow at him. "You ditched us."



"Haven't seen you around here before." Dean said. He gave the other kid a friendly nudge with his elbow. "New to town?"

"Yeah. But you wouldn't have seen me anyway. I go to the private school." The other kid said.

"Saint Chuck's?" Dean was surprised. The kids from the private school never really got off their high horses to come to public school parties.

"Saint Charles." The other kid corrected. He put his hand out. "I'm Alastair."

A girl slid in beside Alastair while he was shaking Alastair's hand. Dean tried to give her a discreet once over out of the corner of his eye. "I'm Dean. And who's this? Your girlfriend?"

"Just a friend. I'm Ruby." Ruby said, sticking her own hand out. She beamed a smile at him like she was proud of introducing herself to him.

Dean laughed and gave her hand a quick shake. "You from Saint Chuck's too?"

"Saint Charles." Ruby said automatically. She flashed another wide smile and waved to the crowd around the kitchen table. "Cool party."

"Yeah." Dean agreed. Charlie's parties were always pretty good. The perfect mix of music, chatting, games, and underage drinking. He gulped when Ruby stepped a little closer to him.

Her hip bumped into his while she moved out of the way of someone coming through with two handfuls of beer bottles. They laughed the awkward laugh of teens at the accidental grind of hips.

Despite the awkward moment Ruby stayed and chattedAlastair too. A couple more kids from Saint Chuck's showed up. Whoops. Saint Charles. They were actually kinda cool. They weren't nearly as stuck up as everyone said they were. They all seemed to know Ruby. Dean was starting to wonder if maybe Ruby and the Saint Charles kids had crashed Charlie's party. But, whatever, they seemed cool. Plus Ruby smelt really good.

Dean was more than a few beers into his night when he realized that he had an arm wrapped around Ruby - damn did she ever smell good - and had spent the last two hours talking to her about music. It probably wasn't the best idea. Him and Lisa had been talking again and they might be back on. He downed another beer. Might was still just maybe. And Ruby smelt good. And she was pretty. And smiled a lot. And she liked music.

"Hey, you want to come back to my place?" Ruby asked when the conversation lulled for a moment.

"Oh. Hey. Uh, I think I'm back on with my girlfriend." Dean babbled as he untangled himself from Ruby. Okay, so even if it was maybe with Lisa he'd still feel bad if he started making out with some random chick he'd just met. ...even if she did like music and smelled good.

"Me too." Ruby laughed. "I meant, I'm having a party tonight too. We're all going to head back over in a bit. You want to come with us? We don't usually hang out with people from town the other school. It could be cool. If you came."

"Oh!" Dean laughed at the misunderstanding. He drained the last of his beer and set the bottle on the counter. "Yeah...that ah...that sounds cool."

"Cool." Ruby agreed.

"Cool." Dean nodded. It was cool. He didn't know anybody who had gotten invited to a Saint Chuck's party before. He looked around the room for Jo or Charlie. He saw Jo in the corner. He waved to catch her attention. "Hey, Jo! I'm heading out!"

Jo didn't glance up. "Sure! See you at work tomorrow!"

Dean grinned back at Ruby. This was gonna to be awesome. He was going be the only kid in school who successfully got into a Saint Chuck's party.