Dean sighed when he reached the motel room. Martha and Sam were taking the evening off, leaving him to watch after his niece. Not that he minded, fulfilling his role as uncle was one of the fun things in life.
Dean poked his head through the door. “Mary?”
The little girl rushed over to him and jumped into his arms, dark hair bobbing around her shoulders. “Uncle Dean!”
“You should be in bed,” he muttered.
“Mummy said you were watching me tonight.”
“So,” she drew out the word with an annoyed tone. “I didn’t go to bed because you never make me go to bed on time.”
She kind of had a point there… “Alright. But we need to get some sleep.”
“No, we’re going to stay up really late,” she grabbed on to his arm. “Okay?”
Dean shrugged. Leave the discipline to Martha, “Alright. Fine. What do you want to do?”
Mary hopped over to the stereo in the corner. “Teach me to dance.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t know how—”
She flipped on the radio, putting in one of Dean’s ancient cassette tapes. “Please? Please? Please?”
Dean’s resolve crumbled as soon as she started batting her eyelashes, “Come here.”
Mary rushed over to him, standing stepping onto his toes, small hands grabbing onto his. And to the sound of classic rock ballads, the pair of them twirled around. When the song ended, a quicker one started up, and Dean scooped her up into his arms, spinning her around as fast he could. She let out a shriek of delight, clinging to his neck and giggling as they spun.
“Stop it! You’re making me dizzy!” she squealed.
Dean slowed to a stop. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” she hung on to his neck and let out a loud yawn. “Hey, Uncle Dean?”
“Hmmm?” Dean asked, yawning in spite of himself.
She mumbled something incoherent, then rested her head on his shoulder. Dean held her for a moment before carrying her over to her bed.
“Night, sweetheart,” Dean smiled fondly.