Save the Shark, Jump the Douchebag on the Skis
Summary: Sometimes, Fate opens a door, lends you a hand, in the least expected way. When Winchester luck is involved, it is hard to say whether or not this is a good thing.
Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter characters/locations/etc. Neither do I own anything from Supernatural. I just wanted to try my hand at a slightly different cross-over fic with a slightly different take on both the "fem!HP" and "HP is [so and so's] relative" tropes.
Warnings: Blood and gore, supernatural elements, Dean's attitude (and language, and sexual habits, and...you get the picture), outrageous abuse and discarding of canon, and unapologetic representations of female sexuality/sexual habits (no slut shaming, at all, ever).
Warning 2.0: Author, like a magpie, has a tendency to get distracted with things bright and shiny. Or Real Life. Or other stories that are not cooperating at the moment. So, updating might be erratic. Fair warning.
Chapter Warning: A bit of a sex scene in this (in case the title didn't make that clear). Nothing explicit, but still very obvious sex going on.
…
"Most gods throw dice, but Fate plays chess, and you don't find out til too late that he's been playing with two queens all along"-Terry Pratchett
…
Prelude to the Clusterf*ck: In Which the Two Lovers Meet (and Make Babies)
Kate Milligan could say, with absolutely no exaggeration, that she was very good at her job. At just 30 years old, she ran a tight ship as Head Nurse of the local E.R., sat on the board of a few local organizations committed to feeding the homeless and helping recovering addicts get back on their feet, and still found time to put her feet up at the end of the day. Nobody who knew Kate would be surprised by this. She was, and always had been, relentlessly, stubbornly energetic. The quintessential "go getter."
On the other hand, anyone who had ever known Lily Evans would be remarkably shocked...not by her successes, no, but by the fact that she seemed content to all but disappear into the obscurity of muggle life. It wasn't the muggle part so much as the obscurity part. Lily Evans was made to do great things in and for the Wizarding World.
Until eleven years ago, Lily would have humbly agreed that yes, she was going to do great things for Magicals everywhere, regardless of the limits her world would try to place on her because of the circumstances of her birth. She wasn't ashamed of her muggle roots, but felt them keenly every time she ran into a roadblock put in place to keep "her kind" firmly on the lower rung of the power structure.
Even with all the frustratingly backwards thinking in place in the magical world, Lily had never considered leaving it to settle in the muggle world. She had had a promising offer from the Department of Mysteries, a beloved-albeit aggravating husband-and a child on the way. Then, real life caught up...the war caught up.
The raid was brutal—over in minutes, but bloody and relentlessly brutal. Even as fast as the Order and the allied Aurors struck, the Death Eaters and Dark sympathizers struck back harder. Blood splattered stone walls, staining the wooden doors and support beams, running like rivers down the gutters. Lily tripped, swallowing back against her bile as the crack of bone echoed loudly in her ears. An arm. She had tripped on an arm, all pulp and bloody flesh, that had been severed just above the elbow.
By the end of it, her robes were a bit singed and her hair mussed, but she felt fine...a little shaken, but fine. It wasn't til an hour later, as she slowly washed the blood off her neck in the small sink of the Leaky Cauldron's water closet, that she started to bleed. It came thick and fast, slicking her thighs. She had just enough time to cry out before she passed out. When she awoke, she was in hospital and her baby—her Harry—was gone. James, always the martyr, had blamed himself, and all but shoved her out the door for her own safety.
Lily and James had, of course, argued before, but this was one of their loudest, by far. Were it any less serious of a situation, she was pretty sure she would have found Sirius' stark terror at the look on her face quite amusing. As is, she was understandably distracted arguing the point that no measly war was going to make her leave her husband. James, too, had argued...she was still sick from the miscarriage and needed to be somewhere where she could rest, recover, and figure out what she wanted to do now.
To be honest, it was this calm, collected rationale that was usually so beyond her hothead that stopped her in her tracks. She needed rest, it was true, and time to get her head straight, yes, but...that didn't mean she couldn't still do her part to help, stay by her husband's side and figure it out together.
"Lils, please. The stress will kill you...it almost did. Did they...did they tell you that you almost died when you miscarried, because...I cannot lose you like that. I just can't. Even if it means you have to go somewhere I can't follow, that's better than having you here and having to watch you kill yourself with stress."
Lily may be many things—stubborn, brilliant, strong—but she was also willing to admit that seeing that lost, terrified look on her husband's teary face had frightened her. She had never wanted to be a source of pain for James.
So, in the end, she'd agreed to leave England for a bit, finally settling in Bumfuck, Minnesota under her brand, shiny-new assumed name—Kate Milligan. For the first six months, it was fine...there wasn't much to do while recovering, but she knew she couldn't rush it, so allowed herself the freedom to relax, enjoy exploring her new town, seeing what it had to offer. Still, after six months, she needed to do something with her time, even if it meant using every tool and cheat at her disposal to do so. In the end, she chose to return to school, picking up a few classes here and there. At the end of her first year, she gave in and applied for the nursing program.
It was a change from researcher and archivist, but went a long way towards helping her recover from the trauma of loosing little Harry. Lily—no, Kate—may not have been able to save her first child, but she was working towards a career that would allow her to save others—infants and adults alike, so that some other mother wouldn't have to go through what she had. That, more than any innate brilliance, probably went a long way towards making the long hours bearable.
Her initial struggles with the course load and long hours aside, her aptitude for medicine was less surprising to her than how much she truly loved doing it. She may have the maternal instinct, but she never would have seen herself as a healer before...well, before. In the end, Lil—Kate suspected that it was her happiness with her (muggle) career and her (muggle) life in the tiny (muggle) town that really started The Fight.
When she'd first told her husband that she'd gone back to school for something to do, James had been happy for her...happy that she'd found a "brief distraction" to take up her time while her body, and heart, and magic healed. After Lily wrote about nursing school, James was a little less pleased...still happy that she was happy, but dubious about the what she could actually do with such a qualification once she came home.
It was only when Kate ("I'm not Lily anymore, James...I can't be her, not here") wrote with the good news that she was starting her residency that things turned sour. James, of course, was pleased that she was recovering well and finding herself and all, but was markedly unimpressed with the idea of her committing to any career that she couldn't leave in a few months.
Lily,
I extend you my congrats, but are you sure about this? It's not that I mind you working or anything, Lils, but don't you think it's a tad irresponsible to committing yourself to this? I mean, it's not like Saint Mungo's are going to give a damn about muggle medicine qualifications.
-James
. . .
James,
Of course I'm sure...why would you even ask that? Anyway, I don't understand why you assume I want to work at Saint Mungo's. I like it here, I like working at the E.R. It's a good place, has good people, and I can do some good, here.
-Lily
. . .
Lily,
I don't understand why you don't understand my assumption. If you want to work as a Healer, where else would you work? And, good or no, you're going to have to give it up eventually, when you get back.
-James
. . .
I don't see why I should have to give up anything. It's not like you actually work; there's no reason why we have to stay in England, why you can't come here and be with me.
-Lily
. . .
Here's TWO reasons: 1) there's a fucking war on, Lily. You may be content to play at muggle healer in the middle of muggle nowhere, but I am sure as shite not, and 2) I have better things to do with my time than swan about in the styx.
-James
. . .
You pompous arsehat. Is it the fact that it's America or muggle that bothers you the most? I mean, you seemed happy enough to let me 'swan about' and 'play at muggle healer' when it meant you didn't have to be inconvenienced, and now that I am asking you to do this one thing for me, it is suddenly a big issue?
-Lily
. . .
Yes, it is an issue. I thought you'd distract yourself for a while then come home. How was I to know that you'd expect me to give up magic?
-J
. . .
I never said you have to give up anything, just...come live here with me. We can still visit England, and the magical districts. Just...I don't see why I'm expected to give up what I love doing because you can't be arsed to compromise on this.
-L
. . .
That's obvious. You're my wife...
-J
. . .
...and you're my husband; Having a prick doesn't mean your opinion automatically outranks mine. We are supposed to be a team about things like this.
-L
. . .
Yeah, well if being a 'team' means I have to leave England for the American backwoods, then I guess I don't want to be a team player about this.
-J
. . .
You're seriously not even going to consider it. Not even if it means I don't come home.
-L
. . .
...guess not.
-J
. . .
Perhaps it was his unwillingness to compromise, too stark a reminder of his days as selfish school boy, or the distance, or the fatalistic frame of mind brought on by the loss of her son. Whatever the case, Lily hadn't just sighed and given in, promising herself to revisit the issue once she could see her husband, face to face. War and distance had hardened him...so much, Lily could easily confess to not shedding a single tear the day she decided she was not, in fact, returning to England.
So, Kate Milligan (no longer Lily Potter, never again Lily Evans) had gone her way, and her ex had gone his...and so, this is where she was. Just 30, working a late shift in the E.R., when the tall, dark behemoth of a man that was John Winchester stumbled into her life.
…
John Winchester was a damn fine specimen of manhood, to be sure. The man was built like a brick wall, with a thatch of beautifully dark hair, and eyes so very sad, and so very kind, at the same time. Despite his dirty jeans, and the sheen of bloody sweat on his forehead, he was striking. He didn't say much, but smiled politely as cleaned his lacerations and stitched up the nasty gash on his temple.
"Thanks."
"Of course. That's what I'm here for." John flashed her a small, dimpled grin and Kate felt her knees tremble.
"All the same, thanks."
OK, so...Kate was ridiculously attracted. She wasn't smitten, no, but definitely attracted. Deft fingers wiped away the last of the blood, and she flashed him another smile as she moved to dispose of the cotton swabs. She barely paid it any mind as she heard the rustle of the man's clothes as he rose from the hospital bed.
"I can get the doctor to give you a prescription for pain meds, if you need them. Otherwise, try to keep the stitches dry and clean. I'll give you an extra few gauze pads and some disinfectant."
Kate turned, startling a bit with how close the man was standing...and that little dimpled smile of his. Ye, Gods. She swallowed, cursing the flush that she knew was staining her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, and forehead a bright, unflattering pink.
"Thanks...I'd like to treat you to dinner, as a thanks, if you'll let me."
For a moment, it was on the tip of Kate's tongue to say no. Honestly, she was only doing her job, there was no reason for him to go out of his way, but...but. She very much wanted to go to dinner with this man. It had been, what, five years since she'd been attracted to a man, and even longer since she'd had sex. She was only human, and, well...John wasn't an eyesore, that was for damn sure.
"Dinner would be nice, but none of this 'thank you' stuff...I was happy to do it."
The man smiled, his dimples lighting up his haggard face. Gods, but this man was beautiful. Not beautiful in a way that many would consider such, as it was a very gruff, very ubermasculine beautiful, but all the same...he was truly beautiful.
The Pizza Palace—the only real pizzeria Wisdom, Minnesota could rustle up—wasn't classy, but the Margherita calzone was decent and the beer was cold enough that the watered down taste wasn't terrible. The not-quite-shy grin he'd given her when she'd laughed, swiping at the smear of sauce on his chin, had been worth it. If Kate pressed back into him tightly when he'd stood behind her, showing her how to line up a shot at the pool table, nobody could blame her. There was just something about this man that felt solid, like he could handle anything the world threw at him.
Kate crowed, dancing a bit in place as she sunk another ball into the pocket. John laughed, deep and loud, at her victory dance. "You're a natural."
"I guess I am." Kate danced over to John's side, smirking as she grabbed his beer, and took a deep drink of it. Her date squawked playfully, and tugged her close. She smiled, hopping up onto her toes to press her beer-chilled lips to his.
Well. No matter what else she could say about John Winchester, Kate could say, with 100 percent surety, that the man could kiss. For a moment, she felt like a droopy-eyed romantic comedy heroine, with fluttering lashes, curling toes, and all. Good God Damn, but Kate wanted to take this man to bed with her. She pressed against him, smirking against his lips as he hummed, happily.
Her voice was hoarse when she finally pulled back from the kiss. "Fair warning, but I'm planning on seducing you tonight, Mr. Winchester."
His dark eyes crinkled, those goddamn gorgeous dimples accenting his soft smile. "Are you now, Ms. Milligan."
"Yes, sir."
"Sounds like a plan, then."
. . .
She was pretty sure it was common courtesy to show a guest around your house after inviting them in for the first time. As it was, Kate wasn't really in the frame of mind to bother with common courtesy, not with John doing things to her neck that were all but halting higher brain function. His lips were just so hot against her skin, and...right. Stairwell. Bedroom. She was a woman with a plan, and...
...warm, calloused hands slipped under her shirt, trailing up her stomach, as he pressed tighter against her back. He was hard against the small of her back, and so warm, and...what had she been thinking about plans? Right. Upstairs. John sucked at the tender spot right under her pulse point.
Screw plans, the couch would do, for now.
Kate turned in John's arms, letting him tug her shirt up over her head, his clever fingers working at the clasp of her bra as she tugged at his jeans, popping open the little button, and tugging at the zip. The back of her thighs hit the arm of the couch, and Kate let John lift her to perch on the edge as he stepped out of his jeans, helping her tug his shirt over his head.
Fuuuuuck. This man.
Kate tugged John to her, moaning against warm lips as his hands trailed up the outside of her thighs, pushing her skirt up her hips. Her knees parted as he pressed close, and she trembled as her bare breasts pressed into his bare, hard chest. Hands dug into the man's beautiful back, tugging him close.
Kate felt a gentle finger tug at the seat of her underwear, and she let out a gasp. She only had a moment to shiver at the feeling of air against her exposed warmth before John pressed into her. Her hips hitched, moving into his thrust, and she cried out. Hard hands tugged her hips forward, helping her move into his thrusts.
After that, she didn't think for a while, content to just enjoy her time with John for what it was...the best goddamn sex she'd had in years.
She lost count after her third orgasm, though she was pretty sure there were a few more after that. However many there were, they were all enough to leave her clinging and moaning to the man moving above her. The fact that John was just as vocal, if not more so, than her...well, she was sure her neighbors would be giving her the side eye...
Kate wasn't too surprised to see that he was gone in the morning, but the little note sitting on her side table was strangely charming.
Kate,
I had a really amazing time with you last night. I hate to leave like this, but I really can't stay. Still, if you ever need me for anything, call me. The number at the bottom is how you can reach me, if you need to.
-John
. . .
It was strange seeing the hospital from the side of the patient, especially considering...well, after she'd lost Harry all those years ago, and after James and she parted ways, she never assumed she'd be in hospital, not for this.
Kate turned her head, exhausted, to look at two hospital bassinets parked at the side of her bed. She had never expected to be a mother, not after last time, but felt unexpectedly blessed, despite the pain, as she took in the small, delicate features of her little boy and little girl—her Adam and Evelyn.
She only wished she had the courage to find John, to thank him. Maybe one day, when the twins were older, they would have the chance to meet the man that had changed her life for the better.
[end]