Full title: You know I'm the one you want, you must be the one I need (She's Alive)
Story Notes:
The idea for this story originated with The Huntress. She made one little mention of this idea in an e-mail and it just stuck with me until I had to write it down.
For the purposes of this fic, Dean never had that little threesome with the Double Mint twins. The phrases in italics are, of course, internal thoughts.
My beta helpers aresammyndeansgrl1 and The Huntress. Some ideas are totally not mine and I will give credit as best I can. Don't flog me for missing something please. Unless you send Sam and Dean to do it, then it's totally okay.
If you want to read ahead, I post to my LJ first. Username: secretwendigo
A truer rating for this is NC-17. If you don't like Sam and Dean kissing each other...and other...stuff...you may not want to read it!!! Lots of het angst too for good measure.
The sun had just risen and Sam was squinting through his sunglasses as Dean navigated the dusty tan road northward. Wooden fences and barbed wire blurred past the window and mesquite trees dotted the hills. It amazed Sam how similar the mid-south was. All the roads looked the same, all the scenery looked the same.
"Dude, you so chickened out back there. I had to kick that guy's ass for you."
"You're a friggin' jerk, you know that, Dean? I twisted my ankle on the stairs." Sam pulled his foot into his lap and pulled his jeans up. He touched at the dark bruise that had formed just above his ankle and hissed. The fact that he had fallen and Dean had to knock the guy out was one of those moments in his life that Sam just wanted to forget. Unfortunately for him, he knew Dean wouldn't. Ever. He played stupid, but he had a mind like a steal trap.
Dean glanced over at Sam's lap and smiled. "Whatever man, if that's what you've gotta believe to get to sleep tonight. Jus' looks like a bruise to me."
"Bite me." Sam turned back to the boring Texas scenery.
"Only in your dreams, baby." Dean pulled his sunglasses off of the visor and slid them on his face. "We've got a long drive ahead of us; maybe you should just go ahead and admit that I saved your ass again."
Sam huffed, pointedly ignoring him and Dean turned the radio up with a chuckle.
Cow, cow, steer, llama, mesquite tree. This was going to be one hell of a boring ride.
They had just finished a job in San Saba, Texas. Bobby had gotten word of some cursed objects that were being peddled on the black market and had sent Sam and Dean down to see if they could get their hands on them. It was just luck that they got there before the amulets were handed over to the highest bidding rich son-of-a-bitch that thought that they could control what those objects contained. Sam mused that things could have gone much worse, namely running into that bitch Bella. With his luck, she probably would have shot him again. He began to count the ways in which he could torture her if the opportunity ever presented itself. He'd like to put that pointy little chin of hers in a vise and drill a big fat hole through her temple. I barely grazed you. Bitch.
They were heading towards Bobby's place with the three cursed objects they had recovered safely packed in the trunk. They were extra careful this time not to actually touch any of them, since Bobby wasn't clear on exactly what they did. Dean had tried to coerce the two dealers into revealing the objects' secrets, but in the end, they either didn't know, or weren't going to tell. For their trouble, Dean and Sam had tied them both up and made an anonymous phone call to the county sheriff to investigate some stolen goods. Turns out, there were enough non-supernatural black market items there that guaranteed they wouldn't get off the hook anytime soon.
The sun hovered low in the Kansas sky, reds and oranges mixing on the horizon when Dean pulled into a gas station and eyed the large sign depicting glistening hot dogs in the window. "Mmmm…hot dogs. Think you can go get me a couple of those? I don't wanna go to bed hungry." He rubbed his stomach, which was rumbling in anticipation. "And some beer Sammy, don't forget the beer."
"You think maybe you should try eating something, I dunno, with a little nutritional value? A piece of fruit….a salad, maybe some milk?" Garbage gut.
Dean turned the ignition off and threw the keys to the floor board. "I tell you what, you get yourself some fruit…'cause you know, you are what you eat!"
No, he did not just go there. "So, I guess that makes you a wiener, huh?" Sam didn't wait for a response. He got out of the car, slammed the door as hard as he could (which he knew was a sure fire way to piss Dean off), and headed for the gas station convenience store. It wasn't the best insult he could come up with, but it worked.
"Don't slam my fuckin' door, asshole!" Dean screamed after him.
Sam didn't turn, but imagined Dean's red face and just gave his brother the one fingered salute. One of the worst parts of road tripping with Dean was when he got tired and hungry; then it was all insults and asshole bigger brother jokes. And mostly, they just weren't funny.
In spite of the fact that Dean had pissed him off, he bought him what he wanted. It was a cruel twist of DNA that makes every younger sibling want to please the older one. He picked up a twelve pack of English import cider, four hot dogs, and just for the hell of it, two apples. A slight jab at Dean, because he was sure he would want chips.
Sam watched Dean out the gas station window as he paid for their food. He had fueled up the Impala and had the hood up, checking the oil. It was a routine Sam knew well. Ever since he was sixteen (Just because you're old enough to drive doesn't mean you're driving my car, Sammy.), Dean had told him to check the oil every time they put gas in her. He had showed him exactly how to do this, which, comprehensively, was about all Sam knew about cars. Dad had passed all his mechanical knowledge (and the car) on to Dean and somehow he got left out of the loop.
The clink of a penny hitting the counter brought Sam back to the present. He smiled and thanked the elderly man behind the register and picked up the two paper bags, heading out the door, slightly favoring his right ankle as he stepped off the curb.
Dean was using a cloth to wipe the road dust off of the hood and inspect for imperfections in the glossy black paint. He leaned his cheek close to the metal to examine the clean lines. Dean's mood already seemed to have improved since Sam had walked into the store and it was simply because he was doting on his car. Sam wondered briefly why Dean hadn't named her years ago like most guys do.
Sam smiled on the inside, although he was not going to give Dean the satisfaction of knowing that he'd already forgiven him. "Do I need to get a room for you two?"
Dean winked at him and grinned, "Don't be jealous. I only have eyes for you…well, okay…and her." Dean ghosted his fingers along the side panels and walked around to the driver's side. "Dude, if shewas a chick, she'd be hot!"
Sam's smile finally broke and they both got into the car. "Are you sure you don't want me to wait outside, you know, while you feel her up or whatever?"
"I wish she was real, then you could wait outside." Dean ran his hands along the steering wheel in an almost obscene fashion. "Isn't that right, baby?"
"You are so touched," Sam deadpanned.
Their argument forgotten, they both laughed as Dean pulled out of the parking lot.
Dean pulled into a hotel off Route 35, just south of Wichita, and parked at the very end of the brick building. The hotel they were going to stay at was a bit nicer than most of the run down places they normally chose, and they always paid in cash. They came this way a lot and Dean didn't see a reason to ruin a great resource such as this by paying with fraudulent credit cards. The place actually had a large hot tub in the back courtyard outside of the tiny gym and Dean rejoiced at the thought of sliding out of the cold air and down into the steaming hot water and letting the jets massage his back while he sipped on a beer.
Sam gathered their things out of the trunk and Dean went into the office to check in.
"Hey, you're back again!"
The young girl behind the counter beamed a smile at Dean and he winked at her and licked his bottom lip, leaning forward on the counter with his arms crossed to glare at her ample cleavage. "I told ya sweetie, we never come through without stopping." She wanted him bad. When you've got it, you've got it.
"So, where's your boyfriend?" She popped out of the chair and stood on her toes to see around the corner and out the office window.
"You mean Sam?" He cocked his eyebrow up at the question and she nodded in affirmation. "Um…he's not my boyfriend, he's my little brother."
"Yeah well, your little brother is fine." Correction, she wanted Sambad. Clearly, she was simple minded…or something. Poor girl.
Dean chuckled in disbelief. "Sammy? Tall broody guy with floppy hair?"
"Um…yeah." The way she inflected her voice said Dean was an idiot, DUH.
Her breasts giggled in her low cut white top as she continued to lean, giving up after a few seconds when she realized he was too far down to see. "Anyway, usual room?"
"Yeah…uh…what made you think he was my boyfriend?" Dean's voice cracked on boyfriend and he cleared his throat to try and cover his distress. He handed her four well worn twenties from his back pocket.
"Sorry 'bout that, I just never asked and we see that stuff all the time through here, so I just assumed." She handed Dean a green ledger to sign and slid the room key across the counter. "Tell him to come down and uh, see me…if he wants." She blushed and sat back into her chair twirling her blonde locks. "I just got here so I'll be in 'til tomorrow morning, then Dad comes in."
"Oh, don't worry sweetheart, I'll let him know." Dean held up the key in thanks and headed out into the parking lot.
Sam had their duffle bags on the ground in front of the Impala and was leaning against the hood.
"Get the usual room?"
"Yup. You get those cursed amulets out of the trunk?"
"Yes, Dean."
He threw Sam the room key. "Oh, jail bait in the front office says she wants to fuck you. And get your ass and your groceries off my car."
Sam started laughing, but it turned into a cough, "WHAT?"
"Dude, I don't make the news, I just report it. She said to tell you that you should come see her." He used air quotes to emphasize see.
"Jesus. How old is she anyway?"
"I dunno. Old enough I s'pose. Why, you considering it?" Dean grabbed both of their bags and followed Sam to the last door along the corridor.
"She is pretty hot. Did you get a look at her ass? You'd have to be stupid to turn that down."
"Sam, I'm shocked you would use that sort of language," Dean smirked a bit. "Kind of out of character for ya."
Sam returned the smirk. "Maybe you're rubbing off on me."
Dean frowned behind him, making a note to be a little less nice to her next time he saw her.
Sam settled in on his side of the room, unpacking his clothes, and setting the alarm. He lifted his foot into his lap and pulled his sock off examining his bruised ankle. It definitely wasn't sprained, but he needed to take some Aleve to make sure it wouldn't swell overnight.
He dug into the side pocket of his duffle and poured a couple of the blue pills into his hand. They kinda look like Viagra. How do you know what Viagra look like? Because you like NASCAR and there's a picture of one on the hood. He threw the pills into his mouth and chased them with his beer relieved that he had that conversation internally. Dean would have had at least a week's worth of jokes following that remark.
Sam heard a light knock at the door and rolled his eyes. All he wanted to do was to unwind for a few minutes before he was confronted with any awkward situations. That girl at the front desk was too cute for her own good. Maybe now was the best time to tell her he wasn't interested, before he got a few beers in him. He was struggling to get his other boot off, so he didn't answer the door looking like a total dork.
"DEAN, GET THE DOOR!"
Dean popped his head out of the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and white foam clinging to his lips. Sam noted that he looked a bit like a rabid dog. "I don' 'hink she wan's to shee me, Shammy."
"Fine, Christ."
He took another moment to get his boot off and peeled his sock away. He checked the mirror to make sure he didn't have anything hanging from his nose and opened the door. "Hey, look I'm…oh my God."
He lunged just in time to catch the woman leaning in the doorway. "Dean," she breathed with half lidded eyes and fell limply into Sam's arms.
"Holy shit. DEAN!"
Dean was rinsing his mouth when his brother yelled for him. Can't he handle a horny teenager without my help? But then Sam's tone of voice sunk in.
"Sammy?"
He rounded the corner to see his brother kneeling in the open doorway. Sam was looking down at a woman lying across his lap. He looked back at Dean with pleading eyes and then down at the woman in his arms.
"What the…."
As Dean approached, he could see that she was stark naked and unconscious. She was tall and lean; her skin was unblemished porcelain. Her lips were full and strawberry red and her hair was long and black, hanging over Sam's arm, all the way to the floor. It was thick and caught the lamplight as it twisted and turned in large, full waves. Her breasts were small, but flawlessly rounded, peaked with perfect pink circles and firm nipples. Her legs were long and muscular meeting at a V that was draped with coal black hair matching the tresses on her head. She was in one word, perfect.
Dean was fixed in place taking in her beauty. He felt a tugging in his groin and butterflies in his stomach in response to the sight of her lax form in Sam's arms.
"Dean, stop fuckin' staring at her and help me get her on the bed."
Sam's panicked, annoyed voice brought him out of his trance and propelled him into motion. He knew his brother had hurt his ankle and that it was probably sprained (although he wouldn't let Sam know he believed that), so he stooped to help lift her weight and together they lay her gently on one of the beds.
They both stared dumbly at her for a moment before Sam pulled the edge of the comforter she was laying on over her.
"Dean, do you know her, because she said your name right before she passed out. She said your name."
Dean lowered himself onto the bed next to her. He could see her chest rising and falling rhythmically and her eyes dancing under her lids. "I think she's sleeping." He marveled at her thick, long eyelashes and reached out to stroke her face gently with his fingers, tucking a strand of her black hair behind her ear.
Sam snapped his fingers in front of Dean's face. "Dean, pay attention. Do. You. Know. Her?"
Dean begrudgingly turned his attention to Sam. "What?"
Sam repeated himself, quieter and more calmly now, enunciating each word carefully, "Do you know her Dean? She said your name before she passed out." He raised his eyebrows and maintained eye contact.
Dean looked back down at the sleeping face in front of him. He was reminded of their recent case involving fairy tales. She was Snow White; black hair, fair skin, red lips.
"No, I've never seen her before in my life. There's no way I'd forget her."
Sam huffed in response and reached in his jeans pocket for his cell phone. "We've gotta get an ambulance out here to look at her." He began to press the 9 on the keypad when Dean stood and clamped his hand over the phone.
"You're not thinking. Naked woman…unconscious in our hotel room? C'mon, doesn't take a genius to figure out some deputy is going to be asking us lots of questions that we're not going to be able to answer."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Sam looked down at her. "What're we gonna do with her?"
Dean sat back down on the bed. "I'm going to keep an eye on her and you're going to go see your girlfriend at the front desk and see if you can get her some clothes. In case we do have to drive her to the hospital."
Sam grumbled. Dean didn't notice.
Chapter End Notes:
Feedback is love...this is of course to be continued...