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Of the many terms that had been used to describe Dean Winchester in his lifetime, geek had never been one of them. Because as far as he was concerned there was only one geek in the family and that was his brother Sam, the younger man had gotten into Stanford for pre-law, after all. But he did sure as hell have passions that he was knowledgeable about, and not just because it was helpful to him as a hunter or because his dad or Bobby all but brained him with the subject either.
Not many knew of his extensive knowledge on the particular subject except for a few select people: his brother, who only teased him about it when Dean wouldn’t take it the wrong way, and Lisa, the beautiful woman he lived with and shared just about everything with. And Lisa, she had no qualms about giving him that smile—the one that melted his heart and heated his blood—and teased him in a way he welcomed wholeheartedly; even if it did mean being called a geek. So if he protested a little less seriously and a little more salaciously, no one had to know. If he puffed up a little under the unmistakably impressed look she gave him when he got rolling, it was no one else’s business.
And if, maybe, just maybe, somewhere down the line Lisa managed to sweet talk him into imparting some of that knowledge onto Ben—who lit up at the topic, talking to it like a fish to water—then it could only be because the topic was not geeky but rather useful. Sort of.
But if it was anyone else, absolutely anyone else: Dean Winchester was not a history buff—he just knew stuff sometimes.