Chapter 4:-

Sometime during the night, Dean woke, wrapped in a tangle of damp sheet. His mind was racing almost as fast as his heart was. Damn it, he hated nights like these. Nightmares were things kids had, not grown men. The heat always made him have nightmares, always had.

With a grunt, he hauled himself out of bed and padded to the open window. Pushing it open as wide as it would go; Dean leaned out hoping to catch a breeze that would cool him down. There was no breeze, just more of the same stifling air that seemed to burn his lungs every time he breathed in.

Along with the heat and the nightmares, Dean was restless. They never seemed to stay in any one place for long, him and Sammy. A week tops. He'd only been here a couple of days and already the open road called to him.

Sam had been right – just like he always was, but Dean would be damned before he'd admit that aloud – they should pack up and head out West, kill some fucking demons and not hang around here, wanting things they couldn't have, wouldn't ever have.

He'd been so lost in his tangled thoughts that he hadn't heard the door open and close, or the footsteps quietly padding over the carpeted floor. It was only the hand on his shoulder making him jump that stirred him from his thinking.

"You ok? I heard sounds like you were having a nightmare," Tallie whispered, her hand still burning a brand on his shoulder.

"Restless. Heat," Dean mumbled, spinning round to face her and inadvertently knocking her hand off him, and the place she'd touched felt instantly cold. He noticed the pajamas she'd had on earlier had disappeared and she was now in just a vest top and shorts. Scratches and grazes seemed to tattoo her arms in a strange sort of tribal design.

Tallie nodded, accepting his word without any further questioning. She knew he'd had a nightmare. She'd had enough of them herself to recognize the sounds of tormented sleep. But she could let it drop.

The hand she'd touched him with clenched by her side, still damp with his sweat. She moved to stand by him at the windowsill, their arms touching, fingertips moving against each others.

"Couldn't sleep, either?" Dean mumbled as quietly as he could manage considering how dry his throat felt.

"Hard to sleep when your ribs are broken. Can't lie down, can't get comfortable any which way, so I gave up…plus, I can always sleep when I'm dead." A soft chuckle escaped her lips.

"I guess," he empathized. "The heat doesn't help much either, huh?"

"Nope," she agreed. "The heat has me as horny as hell."

Dean gulped audibly making her chuckle again.

"Pity it hurts too much to do anything about it," she added, turning and smiling at him as he stared open-mouthed at her. "Yeah, shockingly, women get horny too."

"You're something else," he smirked. As he watched her, he was aware of the growing hardness pressing against the thin, damp fabric of his shorts. As she stood sideways on to him, he could see her nipples harden and pucker through her vest top, inviting him to explore further.

"I know," she smirked back at him. "Pity we can't do anything about it until my ribs heal. Listen, it's gonna be boring around here waiting…so, why don't you and Sam go kill something big and bad. Then you can come back here and tell me the details, and get me all hot and horny again. Maybe by then we can do something about it."

Dean just about choked. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of the flirts and innuendos. He was the one to do the flirting, and innuendos were far too subtle.

He wasn't quite sure when it had happened, but their fingers had laced together and her hand felt small but strong in his. Unable to stop himself, Dean bought his lips down to hers.

Tallie let go of his hand to bring them both up to his waist to steady herself as she stood in tiptoes to reach his kiss. She felt his hands slide into her hair, cradling her head as their kiss deepened. Their tongues met, tasted, tangled, darted and retreated.

Dean pulled her roughly into him, grinding his hips against her belly, letting her feel how hard he was before a groan brought him sharply to his senses.

"Shit. I'm sorry. I guess…I mean…I forgot…shit." He mumbled with his forehead against hers and his grip loosened.

"It's ok, Dean. It's my fault. If I hadn't wanted you to kiss me I wouldn't have come in here." She admitted quietly. "You're not used to having to take things slowly are you?"

Dean shook his head, slowly and deliberately. It was true; his world consisted of the here and now. Waiting until later could mean missing out. "It's a first for me," he finally admitted.

"Maybe we should get some sleep," Tallie suggested, pulling away and walking over to his bed, and then gingerly climbing into it. "Hot monkey sex is out but there's nothing to stop us sleeping together."

"Oh hell, you're mom will kill me if she finds me in bed with her daughter – her injured daughter," Dean sniggered and climbed in behind her. His arms gently snaked around her and he waited for her to shift against him as she comfied herself. "I thought you couldn't get comfortable in bed, anyways."

"I couldn't, but I'm so tired. I'd rather try and get comfortable with you than on my own. And I thought you could use the distraction," she admitted.

"Thank you," he whispered, kissing her gently below her ear before settling down against her back.

By the time he finally fell asleep, nightmares were the last thing on his mind.

oooOooo

When he woke up, the room had reach stifling levels and his bed was devoid of his sleeping partner. The heat of her body remained on his skin, like a promise of things to come. And her scent still lingered on his body and on the bedclothes, and as he buried his face against her pillow, his body reacted by growing hard in an instant.

Before he could do anything about it, there was a knock at the door, followed by Sam sticking his head around the frame. "You up yet?"

Dean groaned and buried himself deeper in the cocoon of the bed sheets. "NonotawakegoawaySam," he mumbled grumpily.

"Listen," Sam said, walking into the room and closing the door behind him. "I got a call from Connor this morning. You remember Connor from that job involving that poltergeist – the one who had a thing for blondes. Well, anyway, he's got a problem with a particularly vengeful spirit and asked us to help him. I told him we could be there within the day, Okay?"

"Whatever, Sammy," Dean growled. "I need coffee, and none of your fancy half-decaff, double vanilla crap either."

"You want coffee, you get up and get it yourself. And I'd seriously recommend a shower, 'cause Dean, you stink." Sammy laughed and ducked out of the room as a pillow flew through the air and thumped against the closed door.

Okay, he could do shower but no way could he make it downstairs for coffee until his eyes actually opened more than a crack. The cool water was a welcome relief from the incessant heat, but it didn't fuel his desire for a swift intake of caffeine.

He dressed, his skin still damp, in fresh jeans and a clean t-shirt, and made his way downstairs to find a busy kitchen. Jo and Ellen were discussing the best way to cook eggs, while Tallie and Sam joked about something or other but he couldn't hear. All he could see was Tallie…

"You want some breakfast before you head out, Sunshine?" Ellen smiled, noticing the looks exchanged by her eldest daughter and Dean.

"Sure. And coffee, please," he answered, sitting down at the large table. There was something so surreal about the situation that struck him, sitting around the table like some sort of dysfunctional family – but it was the closest he and Sam would ever get to one now that their dad was gone.

"Sam says you're heading off this morning," Tallie caught his eye and held it confidently.

"So I hear," he muttered, tucking into his bacon and eggs.

"Will you be coming back?" As she spoke again, everyone else fell silent as they waited for Dean to answer.

"I guess, I mean, we still need to see Ash about that demon with a fetish for old people…so, yeah," he avoided looking at anyone but Tallie.

"Hmm, I think my ribs are healing pretty quickly," she smirked and picked up her mug of coffee.

Sam and Ellen rolled their eyes simultaneously, but no one saw Jo wipe away the single tear that slipped from the corner of her eye.