Dean Winchester

Dean smiled faintly, pausing long enough to actually taste the stuff. "That sounds good," he said. "Maybe I'll actually do the cooking some time, too." He could do that. She'd said he had her a long time ago, and maybe she might have meant it differently, but Dean didn't think so. He thought, his eyes passing gently over the features he knew and loved so well, that they meant the exact same thing. He was the one asking permission to do it forever, was all.

"Angua," he said and stopped. "I'm gonna get the dessert out."