An Almost Daughter.
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Two pairs of green eyes fenced with each other, flirting then coyly looking away; two pairs of full lips pursed, pouted and promised, in the age-old dance of courtship, their owners anticipating what would surely happen later that evening.
The man was of a luscious handsomeness, the female beautiful.
Following a script written at the dawn of Mankind, the handsome couple celebrated that which their eyes and lips had been promising all evening while they had sipped their drinks over the bar table; exciting, hungry and eminently satisfying sex in the woman's apartment; for the man possessed nothing other than a black Impala.
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Earlier, Dean had left Sam and gone to a bar in search of female companionship but that pleasurable night would have unforeseen consequences adding more weight to the baggage of pain that the two brothers carried eternally within their souls.
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"Well, you sure look like the cat that got the cream!" Sam commented amused the next morning, as he took in the eminently satisfied attitude of his older brother.
Dean's face took on a faraway gaze as if still reliving the events of the previous night.
"There's cream and there's cream, Sammy and boy did I get the top of the range," he smirked "But you're too young to get any of the details, so on to the job!"
Sam just shook his head in disbelief and rolled his eyes, but he was sincerely happy that Dean seemed more cheerful and relaxed than he remembered for a while.
"Dude, Bobby's flask!" Dean exclaimed preoccupied, looking up at Sam with a puzzled expression on his face as he patted his pockets. "I must have left it at Lydia's place. Gotta get it back."
Sam watched curiously as Dean called his lady friend, and was overcome with mirth as his brother got the brush off from her; something that was usually Dean's prerogative. "Love 'em and leave 'em," being his catchphrase.
"Something wrong?"Sam asked innocently, enjoying his brother's discomfort.
"Na, she's busy right now. She'll get back to me later." Dean replied strangely flustered.
Sam pursed his lips together to keep from grinning and made off towards the Morgue, leaving Dean to work his way through the unpleasant and unusual sensation of being dropped by a girl instead of the contrary.
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Dean walked up to Lydia's door hoping that he had effectively left the flask here. He didn't want to lose it for it gave him the sensation that Bobby was still around; a tangible reminder of the older hunter.
The welcome he got from Lydia however, didn't have anything of the frenetic passion of the night before; she seemed cold, aloof and unfriendly and Dean was somewhat taken aback.
They had both enjoyed the previous night's activities and he couldn't understand the chill that was emanating from her.
He came further into the house as she went to get the flask which she had effectively found, and the sight of a young child in a cot, made him stop dead. She had a baby? There had been no sign or mention of one the night before.
Dean's hackles began to rise. To top it all he could have sworn that he heard the child talking, not in baby language but as a grown–up would.
He tried to question Lydia but all he got were a series of answers that were perfectly logical if not for the certainty that he had heard the child in an adult conversation with its mother.
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"Come on Dean, you must have been mistaken. You probably just heard some buzzing in your ears," Sam commented skeptically, as Dean told him of the child. "I get it that she wouldn't want to tell you about the kid. Probably frightened of scaring you off"
"But you don't get it, Sammy!" Dean insisted. "There was nothing in her apartment last night that pointed to a child ever having put foot in it, yet this morning it had all the stuff, complete with cot, diapers and talking baby."
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Unfortunately as the brothers uncovered more about the gruesome murders, Sam began to fear that his brother's suspicions were founded.
The Amazons used suitable men to unknowingly impregnate their members and then the fathers would be eliminated in the most gruesome way possible, by cutting off their hands and feet; and if Dean had been included in the gene pool, then the child he had seen at Lydia's was his brother's.
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Dean went to the door; the cute girl he could see standing outside, already making his heart shudder.
He knew who she was, his daughter; he had generated her with a supernatural creature, an Amazon.
He dropped his head and sighed before he opened the door. He would hear what she had to say and then he would kill her, at least that was what he told himself.
She seemed so innocent, so earnest, as she pleaded her case and asked for his help; there was something about her that reminded him of Sammy at that age.
God, he hoped he had the courage to gank her for he honestly wasn't sure that he could.
Sam was always preaching to him about shades of grey, about monsters not necessarily having to follow their instincts but being able to choose, to decide not to kill.
Lenore came to mind, she had kidnapped his little brother and she could easily have killed him. He remembered her determination not to drink human blood even when that douche-bag of a Gordon had cut Sam and let his blood drip onto the vampire's face.
Perhaps his daughter, could do the same. His hand trembled on the gun as he held it out in front of him and he was getting ready to lower it, to trust her when the door burst open and Sam stood there, face sculpted in stone and gun steady in his hand.
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His eyes met Dean's and the brothers held an entire silent conversation.
Dean told him of his hesitancy in killing this teen and Sam's eyes answered that these offspring had to kill their fathers according to the Amazon rites and that she was here to do just that, something that Sam would not allow. Dean's eyes replied reminding Sam of what he had said, that monsters could be redeemed. This child was his daughter and Sam's niece.
Sam wavered for a moment, not wanting to cause his brother more suffering but as the girl turned towards him he saw the Amazon part of her shine through and the malice in her eyes. He pulled the trigger.
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