"24 year old Florida woman saves 9 people including 2 children from a burning building in a phenomenal feat of humanity." The female news reporter stated, with a clear view of the burnt building behind her. Smoke still pouring out of the top. Fire crews worked behind her furiously trying to engulf the flames in water. "...the mysterious saviour fleeted the scene before our news reporters could catch a glimpse of her, but from the witnesses to the event, the sketch artist has drawn this from the details described, as well as a distinguishing circular snake tattoo on the nape of her neck." She finished, as a picture of the hero appeared on the screen.
Sam leant forward in his chair a little as his mouth opened and he inspected the picture.
"Pause it." Sam ordered and Dean, pressed pause on the remote.
"What is it, Sam?" He asked, putting the remote back down on the cheap single bed duvet cover.
"I know her, I...I've seen her somewhere..." He trailed of then stood up suddenly, walking over to his bag. Sam unzipped the bag as Dean looked back at the woman on the screen.
"I knew it." Sam said, holding up his Dad's journal. "Dad wrote a passage about her."
"What does it say?" Dean asked, walking over to him, directing all of his attention to Sam and the book he was holding.
I'd heard about her from Bobby. He'd found records of her over centuries, never ageing or changing. We had an opportunity back in 87', when she appeared on the news as a masked vigilante. We knew it was her because of a distinctive tattoo of a ouroboros, a symbol of immortality, on the nape of her neck, but she quickly became untraceable in a matter of days. She'd be hard to catch, and I'm not sure if she's dangerous, but anything that lives past a normal human lifespan has the potential to be, though she was thought to be in association with Samuel Colt at one point.
Sam finished and looked up at Dean who was leaning over his shoulder. He waited for Dean's response, who looked uninterested in the case.
"Oh come on! She's lived for over a century, how is this not our thing?" Sam stated and Dean pursed his lips. "We've gone much further for less, and it's written down so we should check it out. If Dad didn't catch her last time, we might this time." He said, standing up and shutting their Dad's journal.
"Fine, I guess we could use a holiday." Dean said, half smiling as he walked towards his bag.
"That's the spirit!" Sam cheered then slapped Dean on the back hard, grinning as he shoved his clothes into his duffle bag. "Plus it's only one state over, what's it, about...350 miles from Fitzgerald to Melbourne? We could make it in a day, dude, lets go." He said and slung his bag on his back, grabbed the keys and left with Dean swiftly following.
In the car with AC/DC sifting out of the speakers, Sam smiled and turned to Dean.
"You know the other reason you're checking it out is because you think she's hot." Sam said with an all-knowing smirk. Since Dean couldn't think of a reasonable come back he resolved to use the foolproof.
"You're...hot." He then blinked a couple of times as he realised what he said.
"What?" Sam said, the smirk still burning in his face.
"Uhh..." Dean began.
"It's fine." Sam said, and an uncomfortable silence followed.
As the hours passed and the further down south they travelled, he heat rose until Sam couldn't bare it anymore. He pulled the car over.
"You okay?" Dean asked, worried for his sweat covered brother.
"It's 30 something degrees out dude, I'm sweltering." He said, then took off his jacket and his shirt, showing his bare chest. He used the sweaty tshirt to wipe even more sweat from his face. Dean took the opportunity to take a piss.
"I'm goin for a piss." He said, then got out of the car and walked into the foliage next to the pull in. He turned back to look at the car, it was only just visible through the trees, Dean unzipped his flies and took himself out, he was semi hardened from the sight of his shirtless sweaty brother, it still sickened him, the effect Sam had on him, but he couldn't, and wouldn't, do anything about it. He relieved himself, then walked back to the car to see Sam holding a map in his hands, tracing lines on it. Dean got in and shut the door as Sam folded up the map and turned the engine on.
"You good?" Sam asked, glancing over Dean and noticing his flies were undone.
"Yeah, how far have we got?" He asked.
"About 50 miles." Sam replied, then glanced at Dean's undone zipper again, his boxers were slightly open too and Sam could see his brothers pubes poking through. Dean glanced down to wear Sam was looking, then rolled his eyes and zipped himself up.
"I was about to mention it." Sam said, and Dean looked confused.
"I don't doubt it." He replied, then Sam looked away and Dean started up the engine and they continued to drive.
Chapter 2
People hide things from other people, people kill to stop killing, people become monsters to stop monsters. Humans are strange, contradictory and mal adjusted. So distant in they're own minds, worried about their own conclusions and consequences that they forget to look out the window, to either see a horde of zombies, a slur of shapeshifters or a gang of ghouls. That's why it's so easy, you see, to hide the truth from a race so numb to the world around them. Keep them in a cell of human emotion and show them a goal, and they'll form their own blinkers to the Supernatural. How else would we have gotten so far?
It's the humans that are crazy, not the monsters.
The young woman with the close cropped dark brown messy hair shut the lid onto the pen with a satisfying click, inaudible to the bustling bar around her. She shut her notebook forcefully and put it back in her leather bag fastened with loops around buttons and slung it onto her shoulder. She looked up from the table she'd sat at and looked around the room, a group of scumbag middle aged men were gathered around the pool table, laughing smugly and chugging down their poison. Two younger men sat opposite eachother, arguing the toss over a piece of paper in front of them. An array of people, of both genders sat at the bar, including an elderly man who's face was held in his hands and a young pretty woman arguing loudly on her phone which earned nasty looks from the others around her. She looked up at the security camera in the corner then smirked, she put that there, a couple of years ago now. It was a good night.
The woman stood up pulled her red plaid shirt forwards a little then walked confidently over to the bar. The bartender nodded at her to speak.
"Straight up Jack please." She asked, pulling a fiver out of her pocket, the bartender nodded then walked away.
"Hey baby." a low gruff voice sneered in her ear as a heavily weight pressed against her body, pushing her stomach against the side of the bar as rough blackened hands stroked up her body. She blinked then slammed her elbow into his jaw, roundhouse kicked him in the stomach as he bent over to clutch his stomach she grabbed his ears with a hard slap then kneed him in the chin knocking his heavy weight backwards with a loud thump onto the carpet. The bewildered rough looking large man scratched the back of his head.
"What the fuck?!" He spluttered. Then the woman pulled a gun out of the back of her green low hang trousers and aimed it with two hands at his head. The man cowered back, backing up against the side of an empty table. The room silenced.
"That's not how you treat people, jackass." She snarled, keeping the gun steady. "Now get up." She said taking a step forward and swaggering her hips. "Get out." She said and the man stumbled to his feet, the woman grabbed his collar and kept him in a hold with the gun pointed to his head. His eyes were wide and frightened as sweat dripped down the side of his fat head. She lowered her voice. "And if you ever, EVER. Hurt anyone again, regardless of gender. I will kill you." She warned harshly then let him go and pushed him forward, he tripped over and fell onto the floor then scrabbled to his feet and ran out of the bar.
She casually tucked the gun back into her jeans, then walked back to the bar, all eyes on her and picked up the drink she ordered and took it in one, then put a finger up to the barman to order another. He jolted into action and served it up quickly, she put the fiver on the desk as the sound in the room started to bubble up again, and slid it towards the bartender. As she took a sip from the drink, the bartender returned with the change and she put it in the charity collection pot next to her.
Chapter 3
An hour later they pulled into a cheap motel, which they later discovered was opposite a cemetery. Dean glanced at his watch. "It's 17:36." He stated and Sam nodded.
"Okay so she rescued those guys down in Vero Beach, so I guess we start there and work our way around from there." Sam said and Dean nodded.
"You maybe wanna put your shirt back on."
"Why, is it making you uncomfortable?" Sam teased, Dean smirked and rolled his eyes.
"Because it's getting cold out now." Dean replied and Sam reluctantly put his shirt back on, followed by his jacket.
The boys checked in, then moved some clothes and Dean's laptop into the motel, then left again to Vero Beach.
Three hours later, they'd exhausted every known source of the mysterious woman, and came to a dead end. Sam decided the hunt wasn't over, so they headed back to the motel to sleep.
Chapter 4
An hour after the boys had settled into the motel the woman was sat on a bench, with her faithful notepad on her lap, looking out into the sea. It was a clear night, some stars were just about visible to the naked eye, hard to see in amongst the light pollution. Although the sea was fairy calm it still produced enough spray to bountifully breathe on her as the waves crashed against the sea wall, she looked along the pier, at the bars preventing people from slipping into the abyss below. Without thought she saw herself standing on the top bar and letting herself fall. She clenched her jaw then shook the thought away, looking back down at her notepad just in time to see a droplet fall on it, moving the new ink around and distorting the letters. She looked up then shut the notepad and tucked it quickly into her bag just as the rain started to pour. She stood and started to walk.
The darkness grew as the temperature dropped, slowly making her more aware of her bare arms. She continued walking for a few hours, in the cool rain and turned down an alleyway, to keep out of eyesight. It smelled off down there, a combination of piss, alcohol and weed. What a lovely area. Two sets of fumbling footsteps followed her into the long alleyway. After a moment of muttering one of the voices, a gruff male, called out. "Oi Angie, I know you slept with him, turn around and I'll shoot ya!" He said slurred then began to laugh with his mate, she rolled her eyes, and glanced round. The drunk lifted the gun and shot, she didn't have time to jump out of the way as the bullet tore through her stomach, planting itself in her. Shocked and fearful, she began to run. But the drunk shot several more times. The first hit her in the kneecap, she cried out and fell to the ground hard. A few more bullets planted in her chest and abdomen. She finally found the strength to get her gun, she poised it then shot the drunks gun out of his hand. His mate startled then pulled on his shoulder and dragged him away, leaving her in the alleyway, bleeding. She stood up slowly, her knee shooting pain through the rest of her body, rendering her nearly incapable of walking, but as she healed around the wound, it became easier. And so she began to run, again.
An hour of running and she stopped, she knew she had to remove the bullets to finish the healing process. She glanced around the baron streets then saw a neon sign reading "Motel." There were bound to be medical supplies in there. She crouched a little and snuck towards it, looking for security cameras and entrances and exits. Making a complete escape plan before entering it. She noticed a seemingly empty room through a dirty single pane window on the side of the building and crept towards it. When she got there, she put her back against the wall and double checked the room. The beds were made and empty, on the shelf above the spare pillows she saw a small medical bag. A smile glinted across her face. She brought a pocket knife out and worked it at the latch until it opened. Slowly and carefully she pushed the window up and climbed in. She heard the shower running but it didn't slow her. If they proved to be a problem, she'd disappear, no one would believe them. She hobbled towards the medical box and grabbed it, stretching and pulling at her internal wounds. She sat down on the old carpetted floor next to one of the beds and opened the box up. She took out the tweezers and muslin cloth. Then out of her pockets she pulled a lighter and her pocketknife. She burned the edge of the knife until it was clean. She swallowed hard, knowing this would be incredibly painful. She breathed in slowly then dragged the blade across her stomach, she winced at the depth. It cut through her stomach lining and the acid began to burn out. She quickly picked up the tweezers whilst holding the wound open with her hands, it was already beginning to heal. She jammed them in and rummaged around. She found a bullet and pulled it out. Instantly that part of her insides began to heal, but she could feel three more bullets in her abdomen and two in her chest. She repeated the procedure twice more then pulled her fingers out and let her stomach heal. There was another bullet lodged in her small intestine, that'd be more difficult to get to. She burned the knife again, to remove any residual acid or metal then droved the knife into her abdomen, crying out slightly as it sliced her flesh. A tear rolled down her cheek as she dragged the knife against her intestines.
"Oh my God." A male voice said and she glanced up then began to shuffle away, knife sticking out of her stomach. She began to shake slightly as he neared. His terrifying 6' 4" muscley frame froze her in her place. The man, who was only covered by a towel around his waist, crouched down and looked around. He saw the 3 bloodied bullets in a pile and the open medical box on the floor next to her. He then noticed the knife in her stomach.
"Are you okay? You should.." He began approaching her, and she backed up further closing her fists. The man frowned.
"I'm not gonna..hurt you." He said slowly, and she regarded him for a moment. Uncut brown hair, shoulder length. Anti possession tattoo. Scarred body. Sad tired eyes. Unthreatening position.
"Hunter." She muttered. Then her eyes widened. "Don't kill me, please I mean no harm." She stuttered out as he knelt down. His eyes softened and he gave a piteous look.
"I'm not gonna kill you." He said shaking his head, a little confused. "You should probably take that out." He said glancing at the knife wedged in her abdomen. She only managed to shake her head, then regarded him further and glanced around the room.
"Where are these bullets from?" He asked pointing at the three bullets laid next to eachother behind him.
"Me." She said then looked down at the knife, back up at him cautiously then pulled it out with a hard tug. He watched curiously as the wound sealed itself back up. He adopted a more defensive position, unnerving her slightly.
"What are you?" He said quietly, almost rhetorically. She remained silent, thinking for a moment.
"Not evil." She replied, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He clenched his jaw, thought for a moment then sat down next to her, putting up his hands defensively. They regarded eachother for a while, gauging eachother, checking for any potential threats. For once, the unnatural person and the Winchester were both as nervous as eachother. Dean nodded at a silent decision then smiled weakly.
"Do you need a hand?" He offered and a smile nervously crept along her dry cold lips.
"Do you have a bigger knife?" She said, glancing at her 3 inch pocketknife. He frowned for a moment then raised his eyebrows. "I can't quite reach this one." She said and he swallowed.
"I'll see." He said, standing up and slightly tightening the towel around his waist as he walked to his bag. After a moment he pulled out a 10 inch dagger. Fairly clean looking too. He inspected it it, then shot a worried glance over at the fragile looking girl. "Will this do?" He asked holding it up to her. She nodded and he handed it to her.
"So where's your partner?" She said, slowly gaining confidence with this stranger as she pulled the knife through the flame. Slowly disinfecting it. "He's out getting food." Dean said, mesmerised by the candle. "So he's an older brother." She said, testing the tip of the hot blade on her finger tip. Dean furrowed his eyebrows.
"How could you even possibly guess at that?" He asked as she began to drive the blade into her abdomen. She winced slightly then slid it across her abdomen.
"Hunters die young, no feminine clothing, the brother bit was more of a guess, but I think I know you from somewhere. A long time ago." She said then pulled the bullet out and lined it up with the others, slowly dragging the blade out at the same time. The wound began to heal again, quicker this time.
"Who are you?" He asked, she ignored the question.
"I'm gonna need to borrow you for a second. I can break my own ribs, but it's quite a lot of trouble, so could you do it for me?" She asked and he looked scared.
"You literally can't hurt me. I have one bullet lodged in my heart, a second in my lung. I think I can survive a little rib breaking." She concluded with a half smile then began to pull of her shirt completely, showing her bare chest. Her breasts caught his eyes for a moment and he felt an innate tingle down his spine, he clenched his jaw again at the thought of what he was about to do.
"I'm going to cut out a window of flesh, then get you to pull a few ribs out." She said, as if it was an every day thing. He looked a little uneasy.
"You okay?" She asked sincerely, noticing his discomfort. He nodded and forced a smile. "I can do it, if you're not down with that. Which is fair enough, and plus since I'll be near the heart, could lose a bit of blood so I'm gonna head into the shower to do this." She said and he glanced at her, looking a little more relaxed. Given the circumstances. "Thank you." She said and hugged him, pressing their chests together. That electric feeling flowed down Dean's body and straight to his crotch as he felt her soft breasts press against his hot chest. He slowly wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back.
"For what?" He forced out, trying to sound normal.
"For not killing me I guess." She commented then pulled away and headed to the shower.
10 minutes later Sam walked in and Dean stood up straight, looking guilty. Sam noticed it, then heard the shower and smirked.
"Really? I was gone for an hour dude. How'd you pull in that time?" He said, putting the hot Chinese down on a desk. Dean swallowed and clenched his jaw as she pushed open the bathroom door, a towel covering her lower half, but leaving her top half exposed. Sam turned to look at her, and backed up a little as he watched the chunk of cut out flesh heal faster than he'd seen anything heal naturally before. He looked over at Dean who was fairly steady, and so he decided not to pull out his gun. She covered her breasts with her hands, one closed fist around dislodged bullets.
"Brother?" She asked, looking over at Dean.
"What the Hell?" Sam interrupted. "Did you not just see that, or am I going crazy?" He said aggressively. And she shuffled towards Dean and stood behind him slightly. She could defend herself easily from him most of the time, but not tonight, not right now. The blood loss had made her pale and weak. Sam's eyes shifted between the two.
"It's okay, she's fine. She's not here to hurt us Sam. She got shot and needed help." He said reassuring his brother.
"Yeah okay, but most people, when they get shot. They die." He said, still looking accusingly at her.
"Or are you not most people, are you even a person? Nothing human I've ever seen can heal that fast. Come to think of it, nothing aside from demons can heal that fast. So what are you?" Sam threatened pulling a demon blade out of his holster.
"Sam stop." Dean said, glaring at him. She slowly wrapped her hand around his arm, holding it tightly, Dean glanced down at her and saw her fearful eyes racing around the room.
"Did you even check?" Sam said and she began to mutter some Latin. "What is that what are you saying?" Sam said and walked towards her slowly, Dean widened his eyes, then turned to Sam.
"It's an exorcism, she's saying an exorcism." He said just as she finished.
"I can't prove it any other way..." She said, trailing off. Sam turned his head slightly, putting the knife away.
"Let me see your neck." Sam ordered, breaking the silence. Dean looked confused then realisation spread across his eyes. She looked confused then lifted her chin.
"No the back." Sam clarified and she looked worried for a second, glancing at Dean. He nodded at her, his eyes remaining kind but weary. She swallowed then turned her back against them.
"It's you." Sam said. She turned around slowly, keeping her eyes to the ground. Feeling like a child who'd been caught doing something bad. Sam relaxed a little, glancing at his brother who put a protective arm over her.
"I'm sorry." Sam said quietly. "But y'know, hunters like us, we see anything unnatural as evil." He admitted, a look of sorrow washed over his eyes as he looked down. He replaced his mask then noticed her closed fist.
"What's in your hand?" He asked cautiously. She stepped forward slightly, raised her arm and opened her fist, palm up. Two dull, bloodstained bullets clinked against eachother. Sam looked confused, piecing everything together.
"Okay so you what? Cut them out?" He said with a tone of sarcasm, she furrowed her eyebrows.
"Yeah." She replied simply and his smile disappeared, though he tried to remain calm.
"Oh." He said simply. "Are you uh, okay now?" He asked kindly and she ran forward and hugged him, taking him off guard slightly. Dean smirked at Sam's unease, who saw it and slowly relaxed again from his tensed defence position. Though his arms remained suspended in the air. She pulled back, quirked her head to the side at him, then took hold of his hands and pushed them around her body. Making him hug her. Sam smiled down at her.
"What's this for?" He asked innocently.
"For not trying to kill me on sight." She replied and a pang of sadness shot through him. He held her a little tighter, then they parted. She covered her chest, then felt a little dizzy. Knocking her balance slightly she stumbled backwards. Dean caught her before she fell to the floor. Her eyes reopened again, fluttering slowly, trying to focus on the faces around her. Dean was directly above her, holding her in his arms.
"You need to lie down?" Dean asked and she nodded weakly. He picked her up and laid her down gently in his bed. She smiled up at him as Sam watched, proud of his baby brother.
She shivered a little, folding her arms across her chest. Sam moved forwards, taking a shirt from his duffle bag and walked over to her as Dean sat down on the bed next to her.
"You wanna wear my shirt?" He offered, holding it bunched up in his large hands. Her eyes lit up and began to well a little, her chin shuddered as she forced away tears. She nodded then tried to sit upright. Dean supported her back as Sam sorted the shirt out. He handed it to her and her quivering lips drew into a smile. She took it and slowly put it on. It was a couple of sizes to big for her, but it was soft and warm.
"Thank you." She said, glancing at both of them, a tear began to roll down her cheek.
"Hey you know what, you're welcome." Sam said smiling. "But why're you crying?" She touched the arm that was supporting her, and Dean let her down slowly.
"I really thought I was going to get shot...again. Put simply, you didn't. You didn't interrogate me, tie me up, rape me or shoot me. Which is, unfortunately, a surprise." She finished, looking hurt, Dean regarded her with sorrowful eyes before glancing at Sam who looked offended at the statement.
"You think we'd do anything like that?" Sam defended.
"Not you, but your kind. Hunters, you're in all the nightmares of the supernatural. The majority tend to shoot and ask questions later, that's why I'm so scared of you. Or was so scared of you." She replied, strife logged in her throat. Sam looked guilty, as if he had to burden the weight of the filthy crimes other hunters had committed. He'd never heard of hunters raping supernaturals.
"Your food is getting cold." She commented, and the two mens faces softened.
"It can wait." Dean stated and Sam shot a warning glance at him, the girl caught it and laughed hoarsely.
"I'm not sure your brother agrees." She said to Dean. "Go on go eat, I'll be fine in about 20 minutes."
Sam half smiled at her and Dean glanced at Sam then looked back at her, processing a thought.
"Do you want to stay with us for a while? I mean it's fine if you don't..." He trailed off and she sat up and gently cupped his face in her cold hands, bowed his head slightly and kissed his forehead.
"I would love to. Even I need friends sometimes." She replied glancing from one of his eyes to the other. It sounded sarcastic to the brothers, unfortunately it wasn't, she was in dire need of some human company. The last decade had been lonely for her.
"If that's okay with you?" She continued, taking her hands away from Dean's face, throwing an inviting, pleading glance at Sam. His eyes dropped to the floor and he looked bleak for a moment before speaking in a low tone.
"I'm sorry." He began, shaking his head. She swallowed nervously as her and Dean exchanged glances. Then a boyish smile crept along his puffy pink lips.
"You're stuck with us." He finished and she sighed in relief.
In the next half hour, the brothers consumed the food Sam had bought with a fake credit card, offering some to the girl. They stacked up the containers, leaving the rubbish in a pile on a desk. Throughout the meal the boys had been consuming some alcohol too, some cheap rip off beer from a convenience store. Sam was more accustomed to alcohol than Dean, which the girl picked up on, but both of them seemed pretty unsteady on their feet and disconnected from their higher minds. She was feeling much better, and so stood to reach for an empty bottle of beer to read the percentage. 47%, it wasn't beer. It was more like vodka put in a beer bottle, presumingly for the amusement of the marketers. No wonder they were stumbling around like idiots. Sam picked up an unopened bottle and with trouble, broke the top off with his hands. He lumbered towards her and offered it to her.
"You wanna try this, it's gooood beeeer." He slurred.
"It's 47% Sam, not beer." She replied, he accentuated a puppy look. Dean noticed and wandered over to lean on his brothers shoulder.
"Go on!" He teased. Her stern mother like face broke into a smile as she succumbed to the peer pressure. She took the bottle out of Sam's hand and swung it straight up to her mouth. Three seconds later she slammed it down on the table. The two brothers stared, amazed in their drunken state.
"You gotta teach me how to do that." Sam said, pointing a trembling finger at her with eyebrows raised.
"You open up your throat completely and just pour it down." She said. Her head began to lighten slowly as the alcohol took an effect on her. She sauntered towards the tv and turned it on. This caught the boys attention as she fiddled with the buttons on the remote.
"Whatcha doin?" Dean asked unsteadily bumping into her, causing a loss of balance on her part. She reached out for the desk bent over and saved herself from falling as Dean just about steadied himself.
"Oooooh get in there Sammy!" Sam teased, Dean grinned childishly then shamelessly pressed his crotch against her ass, more intentionally this time and began to move around. She found a music channel but remained bent over. She could feel him harden against the abrasion of their jeans. Had she been sober, she might have cared. Fortunately, or unfortunately, she wasn't and so didn't care. Though she hadn't drunk enough to lose her inhibitions completely, and an idea formulated in her mind. She stood up right and turned to face them.
"We should play truth or dare." She said triumphantly. The childhood that the boys never had suddenly glinted in their eyes.
"Sure!" Sam said excitedly.
"Okay you two sit on that bed, and I'll sit on this one, okay?" She said, directing them carefully. They did as they were told, after some tripping and spilling of 'beer', they sat on Sam's bed opposite her. Slowly swaying as their intoxicated minds struggled to keep them steady.
"I dare you to kiss Sammy." Sam slurred before she had a chance to speak. She smirked then looked over at Dean, who's eyes smouldered into her. She swallowed then jumped on him, her legs parted over his waist as she pressed her lips against his. He sloppily kissed back and ran a hand through her hair. Tugging at it slightly. Sam cheered, then the two parted. She sat up, wiped away his alcoholic slobber and sat back opposite him. Sam glanced over at him, Dean was so far gone he hadn't noticed his boner pushing through even harder.
"Okay since I did that, it's my turn." She said and the boys sat forward eagerly.
"I dare you two to kiss." She demanded with a knowing smirk. Sam, the less drunk of the two glanced over at Dean cautiously. Dean looked back at him, considering what was left of his inhibitions before shrugging and leaning over to Sam. Their lips collided gently as their eyes swooped shut. Sam's face gradually softened from a fearful stubbornness, which allowed him to drop his boundaries. He wouldn't remember in the morning anyway. He kissed Dean harder, breathing a little harder too. Dean tugged his brother a little closer as they're lips massaged together. After a few moments they slowly pulled away, looking surprisingly calm and still as their eyes locked. Gauging what just happened. Dean leant forward again and gently kissed Sam on the cheek which caused him to blush and tense his jaw, trying desperately to reclaim some sense of manliness. Dean then turned his head back to the girl.
"What's your name?" He slurred slowly. She raised an eyebrow at the seemingly out of place question.
"Adelaide Colt, or Dela Colt, some people call me that." She replied, not remembering in her drunken state that that was supposed to be a secret. While Dean nodded, Sam thought for a moment then laughed.
"AC or DC, aha you're AC/DC!" He exclaimed proudly. She laughed shaking her head.
"Yeah why not." She replied smiling at him. He then fell into deep thought again.
"And since you're so cold." He said, eyes glittering away. "And you've got black hair, I can even call you Black Ice." He announced, as if making a breakthrough discovery.
"I like that." She replied. "My favourite album actually." She commented, then Dean shot his hand up impatiently.
"Uh, yeah, Dean?" She asked. Dean put his arm back down in relief.
"I wanna dare you something." He said, she raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Go on..." She encouraged. He bit his lip and glanced between Sam and her, he cupped his mouth with his hands then stage whispered.
"I dare you to makeout." He said, then glanced at Sam, whose body was already starting to dilute the alcohol in his system, making him slowly become more stable and less drunk. She blushed a little, as Sam nervously glanced up at her.
"As you wish Dean." She replied, tilting her head to the side then slowly standing and walking the short distance to Sam. She gently sat on his lap, her feet folded under herself either side of his lap. Sam's large hands held her fairly steadily in place as she brushed her hands around his neck and clasped them at the back. His slightly glazed eyes glanced over her lips then met her stare. She leant forward slowly and touched her lips against his. They were warm, soft and welcoming as she pressed a little harder against him. They fell into a natural rhythm of movements, tasting eachother's alcohol on their breath, occasionally tilting their heads the other way. He slid his tongue against her lower lip, she opened her mouth a little and he slid in. He was so gentle and kind, she hadn't been kissed like this in a long time. Then she smiled a little and bit his lower lip, he moaned softly either in pain or pleasure so she pulled back looking a little alarmed at him. Then a dark smile crept along his lips and she relaxed. "Playful?" He asked in a low tone then swallowed, hardening his eyes and showing his teeth slightly. His animalistic look sent a shiver down her spine and her eyebrows faltered as she drew in a jagged breath. Before she could finish it he pulled her towards him and kissed her hard. Pushing his hands up through her hair and entwining his fingers in the thin strands. She pulled towards him, pressing their chests together firmly, pushing air out of their mouths. His in a low growl and hers in a hot moan. They had forgotten about Dean until mid tongue wrestle they heard a loud thud. They parted quickly and searched for the cause, alert and steady. She then noticed Dean had collapsed back onto the bed, eyes closed an snoring gently. The sound had come from the bottle he had been drinking from dropping onto the wooden floor. Whilst Sam rolled his eyes Dela stood up and winched Deans legs onto the bed, they wobbled a little when they hit the mattress but he didn't stir. Dela and Sam exchanged glances then Sam shrugged and nodded toward the other bed. She smirked then backed up towards it, Sam stood as the back of her legs hit the bed. She sat down as Sam bent down to kiss her again, cupping her face. She then grabbed his side and put an arm across his shoulder blades and with an athletic grunt pulled him onto the bed, grabbed his wrists and held them in place above his head. She straddled his crotch as she looked smugly down at him. Sam was taken aback by her strength but the way she was pinning him just shot blood down south. As she watched him squirm he rolled his shoulders back. Stretching his chest towards her, trying to feel something. He wrestled against her hands, unsuccessfully as she glared into him sadistically.
"You're not used to this are you." She commented and he shut his eyes at her voice.
"Please..." he tried, she could feel him hardening through his clothes. She smiled.
"Please, what? What do you want Sam? Is this not enough?" He squirmed and crinkled his face at the sound of her sultry tone as she leant towards him he tried to wrestle upwards. She retracted and accentuated a warning glance.
"You put your head back on the pillow Sam. I decide what happens and when it happens." She said then squeezed his wrists a little tighter, he followed her order and slowed his squirming.
"Y-yes." He breathed.
"Yes what?" She said, biting the air next to his jaw.
"Yes, mistress." He stuttered out and her smile grew.
"Good boy." She replied then glanced down at his lips and pushed his wrists together, holding them in place with just one hand. She traced a cold finger against his hot cheek and he shivered.
"Open your mouth." She ordered and he did. Dela then traced her finger nail against his lower lip and slowly pushed into his mouth, feeling his wet tongue accidentally bump it a few times.
"Suck." She ordered and he breathed out through his nose, creasing his eyebrows. He sucked her finger hard and licked around it.
"You're a good little whore." She rewarded, pressing her crotch a little harder against his. She noticed how much clothing they were both wearing and looked almost disgusted. She pulled her finger out of his mouth and traced it down his neck.
"I'm going to get something from my bag, if you touch yourself. You will be punished relentlessly until you can control yourself." She warned and slowly let go of him.
"Yes Mistress." He replied breathily. She got off him carefully, found her bag, rummaged through it for a second, then she sighed and brought the whole thing over and set it on the bed.
"When you first laid eyes on a little girl with a knife in her tummy, I can bet you didn't expect this." She commented and he stayed silent. "Take off your shirt." She ordered and he immediately threw it off, she glanced over his body and raised an eyebrow, impressed.