Recap:
Few months after Dean and Sam Winchester move into the bunker, they find out about another legacy of the Men of Letters - a very young, civilian legacy, and they don't know what to do with her.
Dean changed into a pair of track pants and a thin black t-shirt. Thinking of the sudden cold drafts in the gun range, he also pulled a grey hoodie-sweatshirt over himself and walked towards the gym.
"I'm going out for a supply run," Sam said absent-mindedly as he searched for the keys to the Impala. When Dean handed them to him, he looked up and raised a brow at Dean, taking in his brother's attire. "Uh, are you going for a run or something?" He was incredulous considering the fact that Dean never ran. Not unless he had to and something was chasing after him.
"I'm testing Sara to see if she's ready to go on this vampire hunt with us," Dean explained.
"She is," Sam insisted with a smug smile on his face. "I trained her, remember?"
"Yeah, well whatever," Dean said rolling his eyes at Sam's annoyingly overflowing confidence. "She ain't going on anything until I think she is ready."
Sam's eyebrows went up on his forehead, and a knowing smile crept up on his lips. "You're getting awful protective."
"Shut up," Dean said, annoyed and exasperated with whatever Sam was trying to insinuate. "She's my responsibility. Our responsibility, Sam. I'm not taking her half-cocked to a nest full of vampires all ready to be vamp food, okay?" Sam didn't say anything, but stared at him with that stupid grin on his face. "Shut up and go get your supplies."
Sam held up his hands, palms out, in a gesture of surrender. "I'm going, I'm going!" Then he noticed Sara walk into the room as well. To them both, he said, "Keep it civil, you two. No killing each other while I'm away!"
"No promises!" Sara yelled back to Sam's parting back, laughing to herself.
Dean turned to find her standing with her hands on her hips, and he felt as if his breath had been knocked right out of his lungs. She wore a long pair of grey leggings that hugged the curves of her toned legs to such detail that she might as well have been naked. Her upper body was covered in nothing but a black sports bra that extended coverage to a point just in the middle of her abdomen, displaying her belly button for the world to see. Was she trying to fight him, or seduce him? Dean thought to himself and found that he was all of a sudden annoyed with her. He knew he was staring, but for the life of him, he couldn't look away.
"Are you going to gawk at me all day, or are you going to show me what you got, Winchester?" she asked, breaking Dean out of his trance. She knew what she was doing to him. She was an attractive woman and Dean, after all, was a red-blooded man. She had known exactly what effect she'd have on him when she had picked out the outfit for their little escapade.
Show you what I got? Nothing I'd like more, Baby Face, Dean thought to himself even though he perfectly knew she was out of bounds to him. Wordlessly, he led her to the gun range, and handed her a gun. "Shoot. Aim for the heart, and the head," he instructed.
She looked down at the gun, and then at him. "I don't understand. Why would I be shooting at vampires? It doesn't do anything to them," she pointed out. Something in his jaw tightened and Sara knew she probably shouldn't push him, even if it brought her intense satisfaction to do so. She covered her ears with the mufflers and picked up the gun.
She thoughtlessly aimed, wondering what in the world was wrong with her. She had had a thing for the older Winchester since basically forever. He treated her like a pariah at times, and yet she was drawn to him. Maybe that was even why she was so intensely attracted to him – the whole wanting what one can't have and all that. It sure did help that he was one gorgeously good looking devil.
Lost in thought, she didn't feel his presence until it was too late. "Your form is all wrong," he said with a knowing smirk on his face. He leaned in, his front to her back, and gently lifted her arm, correcting her stance.
"I know how to shoot," she told him.
"Yeah? Doesn't look like it from here," he said, still not moving away. He was so, so close that his heat enveloped her and she felt goosebumps on her skin. She told herself it was the draft and tried to focus. He looked down at her from where he stood behind her, and for a moment it felt like his lips were beckoning to her. If I kissed your taunting lips right now, what would you do, Dean? She forced her gaze to remain on his eyes. "Why don't you show me, Baby Face?" he said and stepped back. She regretted the loss of his towering presence but was grateful for the room to breathe. She was starting to feel trapped and feelings she didn't want to let out were starting to emerge.
She took the stance, raised the gun and shot at the targets. Two bullets were fired – one straight to the heart, and the other dead center on the forehead. She turned around to face him with a smirk. "Seen enough?"
Dean tried to dial down the pride in his voice when he said, "Good job, kid. Sammy taught you well, I see."
She scoffed. "And my natural talent of course," she said with a flip of her hair.
He watched her movements and how the wayward strands came to fall back, resting gently on the curve of her breasts. She was making him feel things he had no right to feel – especially for someone as young and innocent as her. Compared to her, he was freaking ancient. He forced his gaze to her eyes, which had a knowing look in them. She knew exactly what she was doing to him. The minx! "The gym. Now," he said, taking the lead out of the room, making her follow him. Angrily, he willed himself to get his shit under control.
Once they reached the gym, she watched him unzip his sweatshirt with deliberate slowness. He stripped it off as he spoke, watching her watch him warily. "You proved your skill with a gun. I'm impressed. But…" he trailed off raising his arms above him, stretching. Sara could see the muscles bulge and contract with his movements. It was so freaking sexy, she was astounded at her own self-control. She had always been an 'arms' girl. Always. And boy, oh boy! Did Dean have arms! "This hunt will involve more hand-to-hand combat," Dean continued. "With things twice your size and strength. So you and I, we are going to fight. If you can beat me, you are in. If not, you stay behind, no questions asked. Agreed?"
Sara mirrored his actions and stretched out her tense muscles. His glance was drawn to the rise and fall of her breasts and the skin that was exposed with her movements. "Alright, agreed." Then she added, almost jeering, "But I don't want to hurt you, Dean…"
Dean smirked at her, completely disregarding that statement. "Give me all you got, Baby Face," he said, his voice low, taunting her with a motion of his hand.
Taking a fighting stance, they circled each other until she directed her first punch at him, which he effortlessly blocked with excellent footwork. He was fast, but she could be faster. She spun around swiftly, landing a blow to his gut. He bent over clutching where she had hit. "Oh my God," she gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth. "Are you okay?" She reached out to touch him, genuinely concerned she had hit him too hard.
Big mistake. With a feral look in his eyes, he tackled her to the ground. Caught completely unaware, she was easily under him, pinned to the floor. With the cold seeping through to her back from the cement, and the heat of him above her, she glared at him. "You cheated!" she accused him.
"Did I?" he smirked down at her. "You lose your focus, one second is all it's gonna take." His grip on his wrist tightened. "Got it, Baby Face?"
"Two out of three?" she challenged.
He peered into her eyes, gauging her, trying to see what she was up to. Still, Dean was confident enough in his ability to best her that he took her up on her offer. Letting go of her wrists, he stood up. "Two out of three," he agreed.
Focus, Sara, she told herself for this was her chance to prove the asshat wrong. She was good enough. She was no liability. She got this. She freaking got this, damn it!
Again, they circled around each other, but this time she waited for him to make the move. Using her small size to her advantage, she danced around his punches and kicks. She knew when one landed on her side that he was definitely holding himself back, unlike her. She flipped around and kicked him on the back of his legs, bringing him to his knees. As he knelt before her, she pulled his head backwards from his hair, opening up his neck and made a chopping off motion with her palm. "Tag, you're dead." Then she pushed him forward and stood back watching him get to his feet.
Dean ran a hand through his hair, and grinned at her. Maybe, just maybe, he had underestimated Sara. She sure knew how to pack a punch. Unlike him, who used his strength in the fight, she used her agility. He had to give her points for that. But the game wasn't over yet. "Two out of three, remember?"
She smirked at him, taunting him with her hand gestures just as he had taunted her before. "Bring it on, Winchester."
This time, he didn't waste time circling or playing around. He dove straight at her, bulldozing her to the ground, getting her under him in a matter of seconds. He knocked the wind right out of her. She stared up at him as he held her down, both her hands fitting into one of his palms. "This is not fair, Dean!" she yelled.
"You think those vamps are gonna play fair, Sara?" he asked and she bucked her hips at him, trying to get free. An involuntary groan escaped his lips as she rubbed against him through the thin layer of clothes between them, and her eyes raced to meet his. He loosened his grip. "Enough fighting for a day, don't you think? I win, kid."
"I think not," she gasped, and wrapped both her legs around him, effectively tumbling him down. She straddled him, purposely landing herself on his crotch. She 'cut' his throat with her palm, and said, "You're dead, Winchester, and I win."
He stared back at her, knowing she had indeed won. A knowing smile spread across her face, as she made no move to climb off him. In fact, he felt her press even closer, and he knew that she must be feeling his semi-hard cock against her for sure. He couldn't help the red that crept up his face. Fuck.
"I like winning," she told him, leaning down and bringing her face close to his, which in turn pressed him firmly in between her thighs. He groaned inside, part of him wanting to just rip the clothes apart and sink into her, damning the consequences. "I like being on top," she said with a wink. She was referring to the fight, of course…or was she? Dean couldn't know anymore.
"What's going on here?" Sam's voice interrupted them. She turned around to see him standing against the door, watching the two of them on the floor.
She got up and grinned at the younger Winchester. "Oh nothing. I just beat Dean in hand-to-hand combat and freaking earned my place in this hunt."
Sam grinned back at her, pleased with her accomplishment. "Nice going, kid," he said, patting her back as she walked out the gym without a backward glance at Dean.
Dean rose to his feet and made a move to the exit but Sam blocked his way. "Not so fast, Dean." He looked at his brother, questioningly. "What's really going on here?" Sam asked, suspicion growing in his eyes. "Don't try anything, you hear?" he warned. "She's thirteen years younger than you, man. Thirteen. And we have to work with her, and like you said, she's our responsibility. Don't get any ideas okay?"
Dean couldn't believe his ears. He hadn't even done anything to warrant this tirade. Right? He almost had, but he had stopped himself in time. "Are you done?" he asked. Sam's bitch face was the only response he received. "Get out of my way," he mumbled and walked out feigning annoyance.
He walked into his room and went straight to the shower. He stripped off his clothes, and stepped into the cold water – a blessedly welcomed feeling after the heat Sara had caused within him. He was burning up with hunger. His hunger for her. He cursed her and himself. Damn you.
He couldn't get the image of her out of his mind – her looking so gloriously feisty in that barely covering sports bra and leggings. Without conscious thought, his hand moved to his cock and started moving in its own volition. He recalled the feel of her against him, so soft, and feminine – his hand moved faster. The look on her face when she had defeated him, the way she had watched his reaction to her, all-knowing and triumphant. He imagined her mouth around him, soft, wet and warm, and then he wondered what it would feel like to finally sink into her warmth, slick and oh so ready for him. Somewhere deep down, he felt this was wrong but in that moment, he just couldn't care. He wanted, needed release and Sara's sweet, taunting lips were the only things in his mind. When he came, her name was a sigh on his lips – a sigh of pent up longing and desire.
Little did he know that in her own room, she was moaning his name as she found her release, wrapped up in a fantasy of him.
Special Message to ebonywarrior85!
I can't message you because you have disabled your messaging facilities on ! I see ALL your reviews and I'm so thankful to all the kind words you have said. Thank you so much! You have no idea how much it means to me :) Follow me on tumblr, if you're there! .com
Love,
Sands
Xoxo
