Dean had felt something wash over him the moment Xanadu took his hand. Before he could say anything, protest with all his usual bravado and try to do the last man standing show down, he felt warm all over. He was lifted but not as himself. Neither was she. Both of them swirling around in the wind, bumping, caressing, touching then parting. It was like a dance, playful, sexual, tender, he had been mixed with her, she with him, making them one.
Abruptly it ended.
Dean turned his head when he heard his name, dazed a bit at what had just happen. "What the hell was that?" he asked before he pulled himself out of his stumper and grabbed her. "Answer later," he pulled open the car door, tossing the bag in the back then pushed her in. She had to move past the steering wheel as Dean shoved her and got his keys out.
Lucky, she couldn't see to roll the window down, not that one would want to. His baby roared to life and he slammed her in gear, tearing her back in reverse and whipping her out of the alley.
He slammed the car into drive but stopped a moment as he saw a familiar face.