Chapter 4

Alcohol may be man's worst enemy, but the Bible says to love your enemy – Frank Sinatra

S-S-S-S-S

"So, which glass of wine are you on Becks?" Sam grinned into the phone. His girl didn't usually drink much at all, but when they'd called each other up tonight, she's announced she was going to drain a whole bottle of wine and if he had a problem with it, he could 'get bent'.

Sam decided to not have a problem with it. After all, she was an adult and fully capable of making her own decisions. Plus, anybody who could use the term 'get bent' in everyday conversation without sounding like a pompous windbag deserved to do whatever they wanted.

"I'm not sure. The bottle only has a little bit left in the bottom, but its backwash and I'm not going to drink it," she didn't sound overly drunk, just very happy.

"You drank straight from the bottle?" he asked trying not to laugh.

"No! Maybe. Shut up. If I did, it was to save the planet!" Becky sounded rather cute when she was indignant.

"Ah. How so exactly did you save-"

"I didn't use a wine glass what would waste water when it needed to be washed. You should be proud of me Sam," Becky all but purred into the phone. Sam's breath caught. The whole time they'd been doing this weird courtship, it had been mostly platonic. He'd sneak a kiss at the end of dates, she'd completely melt into after a moment, he'd get hard and desperate, and she'd notice and pull away.

She'd told him at one point that she just wasn't sure this whole thing wasn't because of her potion. Sam could understand her worry; he really could. He just also wanted to lay her out on a bed and spend a weekend making her scream.

"You're a hero Becks, truly." Sam smiled even though she couldn't see it. God, he wished they lived together.

"Oh! You are never going to believe what happened today!" Becky trilled into the phone. Sam's smile turned into a grinned; he loved hearing her so excited.

"You got a transfer and are coming to live with me?" Sam snickered at his own answer. He asked her to move in just about every time they spoke. She'd gone from explaining why it wouldn't work to just laughing it off.

Too bad it wasn't a joke. Sam seriously wanted to live with her at the very least. He was planning on marrying her, though he could see they should wait a little while to finish courting. Only… The whole thing would work better if they weren't stalled where ever they were right now.

Oh, God. Was Sam being friend zoned?

"That girl who hit on you at my office – you remember her, right?"

"The Slut or Dr. Whore?" he chuckled while typing into his laptop 'how do you know if you are in the friend zone'.

"Oh, Dr. Whore. Anyway, she's engaged. There exists a man in this world who thinks she'd make a good wife. It's too much!" Becky crowed. Sam had a feeling there'd been more bad blood between her and Slut and Whore, not she'd never given him details.

"It gets better – the girls in the office decided to all go out next Friday for a little hen party."

"Okay…" he failed to see how that merited better gossip than the engagement itself. offered a friend-zone quiz. Well, Cas seemed to think online quizzes where helpful. Sam had his doubts, but he was also really getting concerned sitting here thinking about.

"To a strip club. A male strip club!" She dissolved into a fully on giggling fit.

"You're not going, right?" the hunter could hear the edge of panic in his voice. She'd go and look at hot naked men, probably get turned on. Sam knew guys who didn't care why their ladies were good to go, but for him… For him it mattered. Plus, if she was in Jefferson City, they wouldn't get their weekend long date.

"Of course I'm going. I joined a pool at work that Dr. Whore blows a guy before we leave. There's even an over under on Slut getting kicked out for groping. It's going to be amazing!" he could just see Becky's eyes shining with mirth.

"But, the naked guys…"

"Right, but you've been to a strip club Sam. I know you have." Dean made sure to tell everyone about Sam's eighteenth birthday. The lap dance was truly one of the most embarrassing things ever. The girl had been gorgeous, but he was completely mortified by getting hard in front of people he saw every day. He wasn't into the whole exhibitionist scene.

"Yeah, but it's not the same," he began. Holy crap! There was a 50% chance he'd been friend-zoned! Okay, that dumb quiz was supposed to tell him what he wanted to hear.

"How exactly is it not the same Sam?" she asked, her voice dropping into the dangerous 'you're about to walk into some serious shit' tone. Did your 'I-want-you-to-be-my-girl' friend talk about going to strip clubs mean she didn't care about your hot body?

"I didn't want to be there. I wanted to leave before we even walked in," Sam said truthfully. Becky didn't fall for most of his tried and true puppy eyed sincere looks. Not even the 'aw shucks' good old boy crap. Turned out, she responded to the truth. Who would have guessed?

"Oh, I see. You're jealous – well, you could always give me a lap dance instead of some random stripper… Would you do that for me Sam? Walk into a room, pull your clothes off, and grind on me while I can't touch back?" she cooed. Wait, friends didn't suggest naked grinding.

Sam groaned and closed his laptop. The sweet sound of her voice talking about them in a sexual situation was such a turn on… Wait. This was edging towards phone sex, wasn't it?

He wanted to hear Becky pour her dirty fantasies out, but it's like he became tongued when he tried to respond. It sucked, because he wasn't a prude in bed – he just sounded like one until he got there. And here he was with a chance to impress Becky, to tempt her in bed even, and he was going to sound like a damned idiot.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

"Um…" How could he say he would strip down to his birthday suit and give himself a couple of pulls so she could get a real good idea of his size? Sam wasn't one of those stupid frat boys who went on and on about his snake scaring a girl or whatever – he was just a large man from his height to his size.

He was also vain enough to appreciate that a lifetime of hunting had left him with an extremely chiseled body. For most of his life he'd wanted so badly to just get enough muscles so Dean would stop making fun of him. Turned out, Sam was the cut one between the two of them; that may have been due to Sam's enjoyment of working out more than his brother.

"Would you take your clothes off until all you had on was a little pouch thing? I don't think one of those could possibly cover you up – maybe you should take it all off…" There was a breathy hitch in her voice. Oh God. Sam had to say something. Anything.

"Tell me what you'd want me to do to Becks," Sam managed. That was pretty good considering there was zero blood left in his brain at this point.

"Public dance or private?" there was a teasing tone behind the question. Like this was part of the game they'd been playing.

"Private?" Damn it – Sam had never been back to the private rooms. Dean went all the damn time, but Sam could barely stand to have a strange girl on his lap in the first place, much less anything more in private.

"Well, I can't touch you, but I could maybe touch myself. So the first thing I'd want, and I don't know if the rules allow it, but screw it. You're my fantasy stripper – The first thing I'd do is take my shirt off. I guess I could leave my bra on, but God – Sam! Do you have any idea how much I want to feel you rub your bare chest against mine?"

That sounded like an excellent idea to Sam. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down just to get the pressure off his dick. That meant he'd get to see her topless…

"I think at this point, in my little private strip club, we'd have a huge couch. I'd sit on it and you'd straddle my legs. I bet if you straddled my legs your crotch would be in my face wouldn't it Sam?"

"Yeah," he got out. He could just picture it: Sam kneeling over Becks, his dick hard and right in front of her face. She wouldn't be able to touch him, but he'd be able to feel her breath against his hot skin. Oh God, she'd probably lick her lips just inches from him. What would it feel like to have those sweet lips wrapped around him?

"Would you make me follow the rules?" Becky's half whispered.

"God no Becks. No rules between us," Sam knew he sounded like an idiot. "You've got no idea how much I want to feel you against me."

"I want to run my hands up the backs of your thighs and pull you towards me. Would you like that honey? You want me kissing your hipbone – moving in closer?"

Sam couldn't say anything. He's whole brain had melted away with red hot lust. He managed some kind of embarrassing half moan and half gurgle when he pressed the heel of his hand down on his cock, but that seemed to be fine with her.

"Tell me you're hard Sam," she pleaded.

"Yeah," he breathed out. "You?"

"Am I hard? You better hope I'm not, 'cause that would be one awkward conversation," her giggle washed over him. He felt his cheeks heat even as he smiled. She was so smart mouthed and witty, and strong, and fucking perfect.

"Wet I mean. Um, are you? Wet?" he would starve if this was his day job.

The laugh that tinkled through the phone startled him at first. Had he blown it?

"Wet? You have no idea Sam. Seriously, I feel like I'm wet the whole time we're together. Right now? I'm about two fingers away from coming all over my bed," she answered with complete candor. In vino veritas as they would say.

"Unzip your pants?" she asked.

"Already done," he answered. "What about you?"

"Gown pulled up around my waist, fingers tracing the skin on my thigh," she replied. "You?"

"Way ahead of me. Just got my pants unbuttoned and unzipped," he managed as he pulled his shirt off over his head. Was this phone sex? He'd never been in a relationship with someone who wasn't close by; if they got turned on, they just hooked up. No need for a phone.

"God Sam, I think about your mouth on me all the damn time. I'll just be sitting at work and suddenly it's like a flashback or something; I can feel you between my legs," he heard her moving around through the phone and his imagination went wild.

"You taste so perfect," he licked his lips at the memory.

"It's so wrong…" Becky sighed. Sam stopped. Huh? What was so wrong?

He made a vague questioning sound while silently praying she wasn't about to put a stop to their fun. Getting off alone in the shower or alone in bed wasn't anywhere as satisfying as listening to her breathy little moans.

"Sometimes, I wish… I wanted to have sex with you so much. Can't decide if I regret not letting it happen or if I'm an awful person for wanting it so badly," Becky sniffled a little.

No no no. This wasn't going in the right direction. Drunk Becky needed to be horny, not guilty.

"Want to know something?" Sam asked hoping this would work. So far the truth had worked wonders with this amazing woman.

"Yeah," she sighed.

God, he knew he was about to sound like an idiot, but he couldn't let his beautiful Becky feel guilty.

"I thought about you even after the divorce. I tried to move on, not gunna' lie, but it never stuck. There would always be a moment when I'd wonder if the girl was really into me. And then I'd circle back to you. I knew you wanted me. You didn't care about my flaws; hell, you know me in ways nobody else ever has. And you don't care. I think you even kinda' like my flaws a little bit. You still want me with all my baggage Becky," Sam took a deep breath.

"Oh," was all she said. Well, that was less than Sam had hoped for.

"Becks, if you wanted me knowing how screwed up I am, how insane my family is, why can't you accept I want you just as much? I know you too. I know you're intense and focused; I know you're beyond driven when you want something," Sam looked around his empty room.

"I know you're loving and smart. And you know what else Becks?" he asked.

"What?" she whispered quietly. At least she didn't sound like she was on the verge of tears anymore.

"I know you've got an amazing body under your clothes. I know the small swell of your tummy, the arch of your back. I know you have three freckles on the inside of your right thigh. I know you like having your knees over my shoulders and that you have a thing for pulling on my hair," he could feel his heart beating faster. She wasn't saying anything, but if he listened closely he thought her breathing may have increased.

"I know your breasts fit into my hand perfectly and that you melt against me when I hold you. I know your lips taste like the sweetest ambrosia, and I want more. Becks, I fantasize about you sitting in my lap and lowering yourself down on me," Sam pulled his cock out of his pants.

"Sam…" her lust roughened voice when straight through Sam.

"I want to rest my hands on your hips Becks and watch your body move while you take what you want from me. I wanna' lay you down and pound into you," Sam's hand sped up. "Tell me Becks – tell me you want me." Wow, he wasn't so awful at this whole phone sex thing.

"God yes Sam. I'm laying here fingering myself dreaming about you naked under me. I would reach between our bodies and roll my clit -" she stopped and moaned loudly.

"Holy – are you really doing it Becks?" Well, that was less than smooth, but Sam wished they were together. He would do just about anything to be there watching her get off right now. Who knew just listening to a woman pleasure herself was so fucking hot.

The laughter that bubbled from her end of the phone could have made him feel like an idiot. Normally it would have totally ruined the moment for him, but this time it didn't. Maybe it was the carefree happy sound, or maybe it was the fact that it was followed by a small gasp.

"Yeah, really doing it – I do it every time I go to bed after a date. Knowing you're down the hall on my sofa, or at the bunker in your own room," she was full on panting now. Sam's hand was pulling his precome down his length. He wouldn't last much longer.

"God, Sam I get off every single time. Think about walking down the hall, naked, and just standing in front of you. Wonder how long you'd be able to hold out if I did this in front of you," she moaned loudly. Sam cursed the stupid phone, because he had no idea exactly what she'd done. He could guess, but he wanted to hear it come out of her mouth.

"Becky…" was all he managed to get out. He wouldn't hold out at all. If his own personal goddess was offering a taste of nirvana, he was not fool enough to waste time.

"Tell me Sam – tell me what you want from me, please?"

"Wanna' feel your mouth wrapped around me – Don't even know if you do that, but I want to feel it so bad…" he had to stop and grab the base of his dick to keep from coming. God, that smart little mouth stuffed full with his cock might actually cause a heart attack.

"I haven't done it much, but for you – oh, for you Sam I'd do anything," the last word was drawn out as she moaned to something her hands did. Fuck, he wanted to be there. Watch her. Do it for her. Any and all of the above.

"When you caught me in your room, I swear Becks," Sam felt himself quickly reaching the point of no return even though he'd slowed down. "I would have done anything for you to finish me off. Sounds so perverted, I know – but laying in your bed, you watching me…"

The muffled yell as she came set him off as well. She was a screamer, and it just became his personal goal to hear her in person. He wanted to make her lose control on his fingers, his tongue, and his dick. He just plain wanted her.

She was coming to the bunker after work tomorrow to stay for the weekend, and Dean was going home tonight.

Sam couldn't wait.

Becky let out a post orgasmic sigh, and that was it for Sam. He came all over his hand and belly with a deep long groan. The little sound of appreciation from Becky was more than enough to wipe away any left-over feelings of embarrassment.

Of course, now he had to figure out how to clean himself up without the towel he usually brought to bed when doing this sort of thing.

S-S-S-S-S

Dean had been banished to his old room in the bunker. After the blow up with Cas, it was pretty much a given the hunter wouldn't be returning to their home that night. One night had turned into three, and that meant Sam had turned into an even bigger girl than usual.

No, Dean did not want to talk about it.

Sam, I will cut you in your sleep if you tell me again about how 'sharing my emotional pain' will ease the burden.

Damn it Samantha, I'm allowed to drink when my husband announces he's knocking up another dude.

WHAT!? What the hell do you mean Cas might be the one getting knocked up?

So, yeah. As comfortable as the bunker was, it was time to go home. For the first time since they'd all settled down in a stable place, Dean didn't want to go home. He wanted to get in Baby and just drive forever. Avoidance was a wonderful thing. Especially since it meant they wouldn't have to deal with tons of tricky questions between the two of them.

Their bond was still thrumming with almost nonstop chaotic churning from them both. Dean was miserable and pissed and felt betrayed. Cas was confused, resigned, and maybe a little miserable as well.

One thing was for sure – neither of them had communicated through the bond in the past few days. Since bonding all those months ago, it was unusual for them to go more than a couple of hours without reaching out to one another. They could always feel each other in the background, but it was easy to push a little on the bond and share whenever they needed contact.

Putting some of his crap in a bag, Dean knew he'd over stayed his welcome. It might have had something to do with now he was always sniping at or about Becky. Sam had made it clear that while he loved his brother, it was time to get his shit together.

It was time to talk to Cas.

So, after dinner tonight Dean was going home. To his husband. Who was having a baby with somebody else. Somebody Dean couldn't stand.

Maybe if Dean got trashed tonight Sam would agree to let him stay? Can't drive drunk, ya' know?

S-S-S-S-S

Becky took a deep breath as she pulled onto the drive that led to the bunker. She wasn't nervous. Nope. She and Sam had totally taken it to the next level on the phone last night, but that didn't mean she needed to be nervous.

If anything, she should feel relieved. They'd both kind of shared their desires; healthy couples did that, right? And they'd made arrangements to meet with that psychic Sam had suggested at the staff meeting. It appeared she would magically know if everything was on the up and up; he seemed very confident that it was all him and not the potion.

Plus, drunken phone sex didn't automatically mean anything. Of course, Sam hadn't been drinking. That might change the equation a little bit. Hmm…

Maybe she should just get it out of the way. Tell Sam she was embarrassed about last night and ask him to please get naked so she could ride him like a cowgirl.

Whatever. Becky had worn her prettiest lacy bra and panty set. They weren't all that supportive or comfortable, but she looked smoking hot in the navy blue lace that clung in all the perfect places.

It kind of stunk that she felt like a nervous wreck because they might actually sleep together for the first time, and she also felt uncomfortably like she was seeing a lover for the first time after drunkenly sleeping together. So unfair.

"Becks?" He may have said her name softly, but she felt herself almost jump out of her skin.

"Hey!" she forced herself to respond instead of burying her face in her hands. Breathe.

"So, I made dinner for us, but Dean's kind of still here. He got trashed last night and couldn't drive home. Not sure why he didn't leave today, but he's getting a head start on emptying out the liquor cabinet as we speak," Sam looked like he wanted to wring his brother's neck. Frankly, at this moment, Becky would help.

"That's okay – we can just eat, ya' know?" They sounded like middle school kids. Sam led her into the small eat in nook in the massive kitchen. He'd put some candles on the table and had an actual table cloth on the small table – it was touchingly sweet.

"Lasagna isn't quite ready, but I opened some wine earlier – want a glass?" Sam asked and then stopped. It was cute the way he looked like a kid with his hand stuck in the cookie jar.

"Sounds like an excellent idea," Becky smiled at the relief that flashed across his face as he turned to the cabinet to grab a couple of glasses. Damn it, Becky wanted him to kiss her so bad. This was ridiculous.

"So," Sam handed her a glass and paused as if he wasn't sure what to say.

"So, Cat-woman? That's your little kink?" Becky asked with what she hoped was a flirty smile. "She wasn't so much a hero was she?"

"Who cares – she was in tight black leather and moved so gracefully – plus I always pictured her with little kitten like licks…" Sam stopped. "Uh-"

"So next time I drink a bottle of wine, should I purr for you Sam?" she asked finishing her glass of wine in a few gulps.

"God Becks, no idea," Sam managed to whisper before he covered her mouth with his. It shouldn't still surprise her that he was so strong. He cupped her bottom and lifted her to the edge of the counter like she was a child.

His hands ran up her thighs dragging her dress higher as he went. Wrapping her legs around Sam's waist, she pulled him close. The feeling of his hardening cock pressing against her core was exactly what Becky wanted – well, it was the beginning of what she wanted. The rest required more nudity and less hard surfaces.

Sam wasted no time moving his hands behind her to cup her ass, holding her tight as he started to grind into her – Damn, she couldn't even remember the last time she'd been this turned on.

"Sam –" Becky broke off whatever she was going to say as Sam dropped to his knees.

"Oh my god," She was going to hyperventilate if he was about to do what she thought he was thinking about. Something like that.

"Tell me you want it Becks," Sam demanded as he placed tiny kisses up her thigh.

"Yes, God yes. Anything," Becky would think about how desperate that sounded later. Right now her dream guy was between her legs again for the first time in a really a long time.

Sam didn't say anything – he just leaned forward and licked her center through the lacy panties. Why had she bothered with underwear in the first place? This was his favorite thing and… And she'd hoped he'd want to… Umm…

Her head fell back as Sam's fingers worked under the edge of her panties and pulled it to the side.

"FUCK!"

Becky's eyes snapped open as her legs snapped closed. Sam shot up and grabbed her pulling her tight to his chest.

Oh. My. God. The person who hated her most in the world just saw… Well, he didn't see anything really – nothing but maybe a little skin on her thigh hopefully. Still, Dean just saw Sam's head between her legs.

Maybe a hole could open up and swallow her now? These were the Winchesters after all – crap like that happened around them, right?

"Dean, what the fuck man? Go home!" Sam's cheeks were bright red. She couldn't tell if it was embarrassment or anger or maybe a combination of both, but he was not happy.

"You said dinner would be ready at seven. It's seven – I'm hungry. God, I hope you wash the counter good after this dude," Dean grunted. He was an ass. Normal people would have seen what was happening and walked away ignoring the intimate moment. Not Dean.

"Go away man; I'm not in the mood for your shit," Sam was most definitely angry.

"You got five minutes to clean up and I'm coming back in to eat. Bitch," the elder Winchester smirked for a moment before turning around.

"Fine. Jerk," Sam leaned down and rested his head on the top of Becky's head.

"I am so sorry for my brother," Sam murmured.

"By the way – nice panties Becky!" Dean shouted over his shoulder.

Seriously, a hole – now.

S-S-S-S-S

Cas sat in their room and stared at the wall. He had replayed the events of four days ago repeatedly. After asking their friends, he had decided to let Dean to have some 'space'. The only thing keeping Cas from denying the will of his Father this moment was the fact that he and Joshua had already started combining their Grace over a week ago.

Yes, Charlie had informed him that telling his mate after starting was an awful idea. And yes, Sam had given him that disappointed look. Joshua had blessedly remained in the background saying nothing.

Becky had frowned at him, and quietly said she would call him. He found himself wondering about most everything that had happened after his announcement, but her comment had possibly been the most unexpected thing of the evening. He had known Dean would be displeased; Joshua was far from his favorite person after all. Having the other angel underfoot for months on end was going to irritate his mate.

And Dean. His hunter was so angry and hurt; their bond was so awash in pain it was almost physically impossible to go about his daily activities. The betrayal that ached through his body was only a small fraction of what Dean had to be feeling.

Words like 'I am sorry' or 'If I could change things' seemed so repulsively inadequate right now. What good was sorrow for a broken heart? A wish for something to be changed was useless as well. There was nothing Cas could think of that would solve this.

He could not break the bond at this point; he had ended too many of his brothers. To slice this newly emerging angel seemed cruel beyond all believe. The fall out of denying his Father and the Host could be dealt with – he had dealt with worse for Dean. He would fall if it meant he could take this pain from Dean.

Cas closed his eyes and sighed. Such a human affect that he had never understood until he wore humanity for himself. The pull of air deep into his body did seem to clear his thoughts for a moment, but the clarity was quickly pulled under the tidal wave of shared misery coming from Dean.

Then Becky had finally called this afternoon. Oh.

She was a very kind hearted woman; Dean was completely wrong about her. She had patiently explained that Dean thought he and Cas would be having a baby, not Cas and Joshua. It did not seem to matter when he tried to explain that there was not a baby; she was very clear that the fact that Castiel was donating part of himself and combining it with anybody other than Dean was seen, by humans, as a massive betrayal.

So here he sat – trying to respect Dean's need for 'space' and knowing it was a losing battle now.

S-S-S-S-S

AN:

In vino veritas – Latin for In wine (there is) truth

Also, I have to apologize for the long delay in posting – life is never without distractions and mine is the same. Luckily, I have been able to settle things down, though I fear laundry will never recover. I've decided to write clean clothing off as a lost cause and write smut instead =)