When Dean noticed the tone in her voice changing, he knew obviously that this had to be some type of mistake. Mistake meaning that neither of them really knew what the hell was going on. Clearing his throat a little, he stood there, well, naked, with a silk sheet wrapped around him. Tilting his head, he took in what Emily was wearing and honestly, he was trying to figure out what it was at all.
Emily would never wear something like that.
In the years that Dean Winchester has known her, he never saw her wear anything so skimpy and trashy. He came to the conclusion that she should do it more often. Of course, not out in public.
Swallowing, he gave her a long look before finally his shoulders sagged a little and he raised his eyebrow.
"Yeah, I don't think so," he said, a little too arrogantly. "You'd remember it, believe me." Rolling his eyes, he glanced around the room and found his jeans. Reaching down, he grabbed them and held onto them with one hand while the other hand held onto the sheet.
"Where the fuck are we?" He asked, pretty much rhetorically because Emily looked just as lost as he was. He would almost feel shitty for how he was talking to her, but right now, he was on the verge of panic.