I still don't own Supernatural... just borrowing the guys for a while hehe...oh yeah, and the car... love that Metallicar!
I've got to appologize for not updating in a while. I've been caught up on another fanfic site where I've posted a few of my stories. There are more chapters to this particular fic and a seventh on the way. I'm actually taking a break from it right now.
Thanks for reading, and a special thanks to those who have reviewed so far. I love reviews... so please don't hesitate to send me your two cents on my little fic. Enjoy the updates!
Chapter 9
"Dean Winchester, are you blushing because of little old me?" Cal asked him teasingly. Oh, this was so much more fun that beating up on the poor boy. "Mm? Nah, Cal. I don't do blushing." Cute, that was definitely cute. Way more believable when you're cheeks aren't bright flaming pink… but she'd let him have this one on the cuteness factor alone. It was just too damned bad that he hadn't actually kissed her… Then again, it was far more his loss that her own. I mean, she had just spent the better part of the last day or so kissing him in her dreams. Just thinking about it brought a greedy little smile to her lips that made Dean just a little uneasy.
Dean cleared his throat, still very obviously embarrassed, and patted her on the knee that had poked it's way out from under the blanket. "Get something on those legs of yours because if you don't take the time to clean out that cut and change the bandage I most definitely will." Oh? So he was going to play it like that was he? Alright. Can't blame him considering… well, the black eye among other things… he can't hold it against her though. You can't rush a girl into this kind of thing. She's got to be ready for it… especially when she's Cal. Otherwise people get hurt.
She'd let him play the protector… it was actually kind of nice for once...as long as he didn't get all macho on her. Besides, it meant she could ride around in that hot little number he called a car for awhile. The entertainment had just taken a new twist and she wasn't hating that either. Hm, wonder if Sam would be terribly upset if they stayed in the bedroom a while longer… or, you know, for the next three days. Might be a little obvious…
"Cal? Hey, earth to Cal?" He was waving one of those big, warm hands in front of her face, trying to get her attention. "You sure you're okay?" She was acting weirder than usual. "Oh. Yeah. I've never been better." The look she sent his way made him feel like she wanted to eat him alive… in a very good way. Alright Dean, time to retreat. Give the girl some space… Give yourself some space or you may not make it out of this room today… or tomorrow… or the next day… heh heh.
He playfully arched just the one brow at her as he got up. "Alright… I'm giving you five minutes. Meds, clothes and come join Sam'n me in the kitchen." "You giving me orders Winchester? 'Cause that eye of yours is looking a lot better and I wouldn't want…" he cut her off mid-sentence "Call it a friendly request. Five minutes Cal." And then he was gone.
Alright, so she'd given in to weakness. Wasn't her fault. The guy was like chocolate for crying out loud… what woman in her right mind could turn that down? You just can't turn down chocolate. It's wrong.
Besides, it would only be until they took care of pain-in-the-keister Earl. Then they would go their separate ways like she and the men in her life always did and Cal's life would go right back to the way it was before… just her, her car, and the open road… just the way she liked it. C'est ca, croit ce que tu veut ma fille. En autant que tu t'empeche pas de gouter au chocolat interdit… She would believe anything she had to tell herself to justify kissing that man…
So she took her meds, downed the whole glass of water, pulled on a pair of comfortable boxers and decided to get this whole 'bandage changing' business done and over with. Cal wouldn't kid herself, it would be extremely unpleasant… and she was determined to do it herself… she just hoped there wasn't too much blood because she was already acting way too 'girly' for her own liking. Sure, there were sparks there between her and Dean. That didn't mean that she wanted him to get all 'caveman' with her. Wouldn't do much for the mood if she had to hit him again, would it?
"Your five are almost up Cal!"
"Shut up Dean! You can't rush perfection!"
"Yeah, yeah…whatever"
Sam had a mug of hot coffee waiting for him on the little round table in the kitchen and Dean had never been so happy to see anything in his life. He took a good long swig of it before even sitting down.
"'Time is it?" He asked Sam who was staring intently at his laptop… as usual. "Time for you to get your watch?" The kid didn't even look up for the delivery, just grinned at the screen. "Smart ass." He did look up for that one. "Yeah, well. I learned from the best, didn't I?" and was rewarded with a heartfelt chuckle. "Just tell me when five minutes is almost up, alright? What're you looking at anyway?"
"Well, I figured since we were back in town anyway I should check the missing persons records. See if any of the disappearances had any similarities to the ones Cal was researching before she came to us." "So? Anything?" "Yeah. One girl two days ago, leaving a certain bar that we're familiar with…" Dean nearly dropped his coffee. But that was…
"Wasn't that the night we were there?"
"Yeah, it was."
"So, who was the girl?"
"The bartender."
"No. You're kidding right? The bartender?"
"Well, she did look an awful lot like Cal… and there was another just last night. Same story. Pretty brunette with shoulder length hair… disappeared about ten minutes drive away from where Cal's car was."
So it had been closer than they ever could have realized. The damn thing really was following her. "Hey Sam…? I'm thinking we could make this whole stalker vampire thing work for us…" Suddenly Dean had a plan… one he'd keep quiet for awhile until Cal was feeling better. "Feel like doing the 'side-kick geekboy' routine? I think I know how we can flush this thing out."
"You know Dean, if you want a little time alone… all you have to do is say so. You don't have to make up reasons to ask me to get out of here…" Oh, he didn't… but the Cheshire cat grin was back and it was impossible to deny that he had. "You know what? Whatever man." No matter how annoying it was that the tables had turned and Sam was the one picking on him for a change, he couldn't get mad. It had been a very long time since he'd seen the kid this happy. The perma-smile was enough to make up for it.
"Ha ha. Whatever? That's the best you can come up with? Dude that's weak." Right, well that deserved a good eye rolling. "No, what's weak is this coffee…you've been drinking too many of those half-calf-grande-latte's there Francis." Sam saluted him with his mug as if to say: yup, that's right, I made this coffee! And you're drinking it aren't you? Deciding he'd gone as far as he could with Sam he called out to Cal instead.
"Hey you, in the bedroom! Your five are almost up Cal!"
"Shut up Dean! You can't rush perfection!"
Watch me honey, was what Dean was thinking. But he's a smarter man than to voice thoughts such as those around a girl like Cal. A guy could lose an eye or something that way.
"Yeah, yeah… whatever sweetheart." Was what came out instead.
Sam left a few minutes later with Dean's car keys and a promise not to say anything to Cal yet. Dean had given him the bare basics of the plan: they were going to lure Earl out of hiding. Right to their hotel room door.
As soon as the door had closed Dean made a bee-line for the bedroom. "Alright She-Ra. Enough stalling. It's go time for the bandage changing already!" but when he got to the bedroom door, she wasn't there.
Well, it had only been a couple of minutes. She couldn't have gone that far. Then again… that little escape she made from the hospital had been achieved in just a few minutes… and there really was no telling with that woman.
A quick check of the windows told him she hadn't left the apartment… they were still closed and locked. He and Sam would have seen her go through the front door. They'd been sitting in the kitchen with a clear view through the living room. Air vents then? None of them were big enough to climb through. Well except for the one in bathroom where the ceiling fan was… and that just happened to be the one room he hadn't checked yet.
Five steps and he was at the bathroom door… which she had locked. Of course. She was probably climbing up into the ceiling even as he stood there. The thought sent him into a panic that had him banging on the door. "Cal? Hey! Cal! You in there?" Was that sniffling? She was in there alright… but he doubted she was trying to climb anywhere… sounded more like she was crying. One of the many things Dean had learned about that woman over the last few days was that tears and Cal were never a good combination.
"Cal? Let me in or I swear to god I'll bust down damned the door!" Well, at least he was being nice about it. A couple of days ago he wouldn't have even bothered with the warning. And if anyone asked the tone of voice he was using was exactly that: a warning. It was most definitely not laced with worry. Sure man, whatever you have to tell yourself. As long as she opens the damned door, right?
Cal wasn't stupid. She knew better by now than to call him on a bluff like that because she knew damn well it wasn't a bluff. She'd rather die than admit that she'd been crying though.
Dean heard the click of the lock turning from the inside. Well thank god. At least she wasn't being stubborn about it… and now he knew she hadn't passed out or become delusional again. Visions of that night at the hospital had started dancing in his head when he'd heard her sniffle.
She hesitated just long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes before opening the door. Sometimes it really sucked to be a girl. Hunters were tough. She wore tough as her armor and she'd worked real hard at getting it that way… Of course tough went straight out the freaking window when she'd lifted her shirt and pulled away the little square of gauze that had been taped over her little scratch… Okay. Fine: her big, nasty, jagged cut. Ugh, even just the thought of the blood that had started slowly oozing out from between the stitches was enough to bring tears to her eyes again.
No way she was going to let Dean know she'd been crying.
Sure she wanted to kiss him, but not by playing the emotional girl card. Especially not when the tears were genuine. That whole 'emo' thing was for emergencies and amateurs. She was good at it, but really didn't like falling back on it. Hell, she didn't like doing it at all.
So Cal gently put the gauze back on without bothering with the cut. She'd get back to it later.
A quick wipe of her cheeks with the back of her hand.
A tuck of her hair to get it back behind her ears and away from her face.
A cringe as she got a glimpse of her puffy, tear stained face in the mirror – oh well, it would have to do
With a quick turn of the knob she was opening the door and brushing past Dean wondering if there was anything stronger in the place than coffee. Like maybe some of her good old friend Jack… or maybe a little vodka that she could mix with OJ… anything to take the edge off… all wishful thinking of course because of the meds. Still, it felt good to be thinking about it.
Dean had to actually step back from the door or get run over when she came out. Her eyes were red, cheeks tearstained and she looked miserable. What the hell had happened in there?
There was a fresh bit of gauze and a roll of surgical tape on the counter, ready to replace the one that he had to assume was still on her. The garbage bin was empty. She hadn't changed her bandage? So why was she crying? Did it hurt that badly? The only way he'd get answers would be to pry them out of her.
Her back was to him when he followed her into the kitchen. She went straight for the coffee maker and started pouring herself one. Steady girl. You can do this. You're just pouring a coffee here. It's not rocket science. But she was shaking and it was real hard not to make a mess as she poured.
Dean was right behind her. She could feel him…right inside her little bubble of personal space. Touching her without touching her. It did nothing to steady her nerves.
"Cal?" It was a hesitation, a question and a demand all in one. "What?" She bit out the word only because she knew he wouldn't let it go unless she said something. It came out testy and bitchy and she hated the way she sounded. Didn't matter though. What mattered was getting her shit together so she wasn't acting like such a girl. God, she wanted to scream.
"Did you take the meds?" He was being careful… she had hot coffee in her hands and she was emotional. If he wasn't careful he might just end up with some nasty burns. "Yes Doctor Dean. I took the meds. Thank you for asking." He watched her very controlled movements as she reached for the cream and the sugar. Okay, so she was in a bad mood… he got that… he just didn't get why… and then he caught the mild shake in her fingers as she stirred the sugar into her coffee.
It was instinctual, reaching for her like that and laying his warm steady hand on her shaking one. An act of comfort from someone who knew what it was like to hide all that from everyone all the time. Cal froze, but didn't pull away. She couldn't have even if she'd wanted to. If she did he would see the tear that had slipped past her defenses and was even now drifting slowly down her cheek to join the others from the bathroom on her t-shirt.
"Cal?" It was a soft breath in her ear. Deliciously warm and a welcome distraction from her own weakness. Why did everything have to be so hard? Head bent forward she leaned in on the counter top and put a hand on her forehead. Maybe she could hold it all in physically… right. Sure. Worth a try though, wasn't it?
Why? Why couldn't she hold all the crap in when this guy was around? What was so different about this particular guy? He was so hard, so weathered… tough wasn't a strong enough word for Dean freaking Winchester. And then, right when she got used to Mr. Tough Guy (who by the way she had no trouble dealing with, since guys like that were a dime a dozen in the haunts she liked to play in) he'd pull out this tender, gentle, soft stuff that made her melt faster than a wax crayon on a hotplate. Then she was stuck right where she was now. Not wanting to tell him what's wrong (because Cal could take care of her own damned self) and unable to not tell him.
"Okay, I'll tell you. Just don't laugh because I swear to god if you do that black eye will be the least of your worries." The fight was still there, but she was talking and that was better than she'd given him since she got hurt in the first place. He'd take it. "Okay, got it. I laugh you break both my legs… and anything else you can get your hands on." Insert charming meant-for-hot-chicks grin here. Well played dude, well played.
"I uh, took the thingy off… and uh, there was blood… and stuff… and I just couldn't… y'know…" It was sooo humiliating. She couldn't even look at him. Just stared at her toes hoping the linoleum on the floor would swallow her up whole before he reacted. "So… that's what all this is about? A little blood." Hm, interesting… especially since the blood that had been all over him when they first met hadn't had any effect on her whatsoever. Not to mention the stuff that had been all over her when she'd taken down the Steroid Cowboy at the bar. "Not a little blood. My blood." Oh. Okay. Well that he could do something about. If she'd let him. He was up for a try.
So he took the coffee mug from her hands and set it on the table behind him. Then he put his hands under her arms and lifted her up to sit next to it. Pause. Still have all your parts Dean? So far so good. In fact, she actually helped by knotting the t-shirt up a little ways so that he wouldn't have to push it out of the way to see what he was doing.
He could physically feel her flinch as he pulled the square bit of bandage away. Concerned hazel eyes drifted up to meet scared blue ones. "Hurt?" "Nope." "Good. Drink your coffee and look away. It'll be easier for both of us that way." And for once she actually listened to him.
All in all it looked pretty good. They'd done an excellent job cleaning it out at the hospital. There was no swelling, only a little redness right around where the stitches and the blood were. That was normal. They would have glued it together too, to help it heal faster, if she'd stuck around long enough for the doctors to be certain the infection would stay gone. Oh well. For some reason he didn't think she'd care much about a little scarring. Actually he wouldn't be surprised if she wore it with pride.
It felt like it took forever, wiping it down gently with a damp cloth. His fingers kept accidentally brushing that soft skin… okay maybe not so accidentally. At least not after the first time. He was sitting in a chair with her legs stretched over his while he did what needed to be done. Every once in a while she'd let out a little gasp, or suck in a sharp breath when he touched something sensitive. If this was torture, then he wanted more. It felt like forever but it was really only a minute or two. Before he knew it he was gently pressing the surgical tape down to keep the gauze in place over the stitches so they would stay clean.
"Dean?" When he looked up at her she was leaning forward, hands on the table beside her and a question in her eyes. She didn't even wait for the answer…just leaned in and took what she wanted. The scent of soap, shampoo and skin floated over him as her soft lips touched his. Then there was only her. Her lips on his, her hair brushing gently across his face, her fingers running ever so gently through his hair. Yes, oh yes, oh good god yes! Had there been a question? He didn't care, as long as she kept touching him like that… please do not let her stop.
She felt his arms wrap lightly around her, so very careful not to touch anything that might hurt. Making her feel…special. It only made her want more… more of that touch, more of that scent that was purely his, more of those lips. Hell, even more of that 'come hither' look and that damned smile he used on women to get whatever he wanted. She felt stubble drift across her cheek, both soft and rough at the same time. At that very moment she wanted it all and she would have gladly given it all back in return.
She would have too... and so would Dean have…except for the loud, terrifying crash that startled them both. Dean was reaching for the knife he had strapped to his arm and Cal was across the room with a butcher knife in hand. Either Cal's stalker vampire had finally found them or they were in more trouble than they thought… which would not have surprised Dean in the least considering how things had been going so far…
