Yes another chapter…okay been awhile-been busy doing research and writing for my new job…and some crazy emotional struggles…..why does it seem that artists wrestle so much with angst, it's been so long living with it now…I think I would be uncomfortable without emotional duress…..ah well, I would hate to not feel…how boring that would be..lol. Anyway, missed you all and hope you enjoy this next part..some nice drunkenness some angsty goodness….and even some more hints at the big plot….but don't think you have it all figured out---allot of research is going into this and that means crazy twists and lots of detail. Please review---Love ya, LacAnn
Chapter Ten
Table Dancing and Mc Creepy Bartender Dreams
The bar around Hazel had taken on an unreal and fuzzy quality, stirring at the edges with a soft and dazed vagueness. Hazel was spinning round when she came back to herself and remembered she was dancing, remembered that it wasn't just the booze that made the room sway. And that she was being supported by a leather clad shoulder. Over the jukebox played Ready for Love by Bad Company, the perfect song to describe the state of her whisky pickled mind. And she was singing along softly without even meaning to. But none of that mattered right now, Hazel felt too peaceful and relaxed in Dean's arms, too-in the moment to think carefully.
Walkin down this rocky road wondering where my life is leading-rolling on to the bitter end…finding out along the way what it takes to keep love living-you should know how it feels my friend..oh I want you to stay, oh-I want you today….I'm ready for love…….oh- baby I'm ready for love…..
Hazel's voice faded off as she realized the significance of the lyrics, the word love bringing her up short. And the fact she was singing this leaning over Dean's shoulder, suddenly seemed like a huge no-no. So Hazel pulled herself up squinting into Dean's face and smiled.
'' Have I won the duel yet?'' Hazel asked laughing.
Dean seemed surprisingly steady, hadn't he been drinking also?…. And she didn't want him to know how drunk she really was…. so when the hell had they started dancing? But Hazel was past the point of hopeless return; it was hard enough to keep her focus let alone act sober. So, she gave in to the Whisky feeling as if she were one of the bubbles herself floating in the amber liquid.
The bar around them had gone from hustling to quiet and Hazel wondered how long it had been that way. It was strange to feel the calm of the after party, like stale beer-most of the vitality, except the man Hazel held onto, had burned out. And the place was a shell of the former night.
'' Where did everyone go?'' Hazel asked a little too wide eyed as she tried to feign sobriety. Dean chuckled genuinely; a pleasant noise that sounded like it came from deep in his throat. Hazel could feel it vibrating out through his chest, and it wasn't an unpleasant feeling.
'' It's past their bedtime Dahlia, and I think it may be past yours as well…'' hearing that name on Dean's lips was nice, but not as much as hearing Hazel would have been- so dejection scorched her words.
'' Why is it you…Dean Winchester…are the one holding me up…'' Hazel was trying to imply his cheating in some way, her brow quirked in what she hoped was a haughty angle. It might have been awhile since her last drink but she must have tested her limits. Hazel had thought for sure she would win this one.
'' Just lucky I guess……'' he drawled, peering down at her with a wicked grin.
'' Bullshit….''
'' What I meant is…..just lucky you broke the bottle during that lunge you took off the table-to your credit it was a very graceful….'' Dean finished.
'' Lunge, why the hell would I do that….'' Hazel rolled her fists into balls and tried to put them on her hips, only to be rewarded by a quickly approaching floor, luckily, Dean got there before the floor did. Yet, still Hazel couldn't seem to remember how she had come to be resting half on the floor and half in Dean's lap. Too drunk to feel foolish Hazel reached out her index finger just to make sure Dean really was there. And found his lips just as smooth as she thought they might be-at the end of her finger. Hazel giggled.
'' I don't think I lunged off of anything……..'' Hazel stubbornly insisted.
'' I told you the table wouldn't hold..'' Dean interrupted.
'' You were probably egging me on…..you've always egged me on…'' Dean seemed to not notice the connotation behind this statement, and instead said sarcastically.
'' Right now dropping you from the table doesn't seem like a bad idea..'' he said this with a rueful grin.
'' Why would I climb up there anyway Winchester…'' Hazel questioned plinking at his bottom lip as if sound might come off it like a banjo string.
'' You said something about a dance……and you insisted.'' Dean answered.
That's when it hit her…. He was telling the truth. Hazel could never seem to stop herself from feeling the overwhelming compulsion to dance when she had enough to drink…..And so what he said was very in character for her. Hazel frowned; a little disappointed he had won the argument but not willing to concede the point.
Thinking about it Hazel hoped she had lunged off the table before she danced but somehow doubted it. Dancing was a very intimate act for her and the idea of Dean watching her dance made Hazel's stomach butterfly in embarrassment. And then her mind was off again, to the closeness of Dean's body in proximity to hers and the fall of his sweet whisky tinged breathe floating just out of reach.
Suddenly Dean's face was inches away, and she wondered if he was going to kiss her. His eyes seemed to study Hazel intently…. So slurring slightly she asked him. In the way the drunk and truly naive can without reserve.
'' You gonna kiss me or just look?'' This question seemed to startle Dean.
'' I'm not….. You are Sammy's girl after all…'' Hazel giggled because it was ridiculous-the whole situation…..And also because it was either laugh or cry. It was impossible to not acknowledge the way Hazel felt about him with all the whisky pumping through her blood, her walls were completely down. She needed someone holding her and touching her, and Dean was their….he was always there.
'' Then perhaps I should get back to him'' Hazel sighed, knowing she shouldn't it would be unfair to Sam but wanting to screw at least one Winchester. Whisky always made her horney and she should have known better than to indulge.
'' You're eyes……..'' Dean suddenly questioned.
'' What about my eyes….do I get a cheesy pick up line now?'' Hazel pushed into Dean's chest bringing them closer, almost nose to nose.
She was trying to get up-but couldn't help arching a little. It was terrible of her but being drunk had reduced her to pure ego driven urges…..and she wanted to feel his chest against her swollen breasts and nipples. Dean however just kept looking into Hazel's eyes as if studying a foreign language. What a shitty reaction, Hazel wished he would lose his composer for once; she wished she could unravel him the way he did her. Hazel's body responded instantly, and her breath hissed out between her teeth. Realizing the urgency she felt, Hazel had to pull herself back from taking Dean's lips, from showing him just how much she wanted him.
'' Ones blue and the other is brown..'' What was he talking about hazel wondered in a fuzz of confusion.
'' Huh…?'' she wondered aloud.
'' What are you taking about Dean?''
'' Your eyes….'' And it suddenly clicked….her contact lens.
'' Oh,'' Hazel scattered quickly, searching the floor for the aqua shield. But how the hell was she going to find it on the poorly lit floor.
'' Why are you wearing contacts?'' Dean asked from behind me her.
'' It's part of my disguise….'' Hazel answered thinking he would drop the subject…But of course he wanted the details. The ever vigilant Dean Winchester wanted the whole story.
'' What disguise……you look like a regular girl to me?''
'' To keep the enemy guessing, helped for a while…..not so much anymore; perhaps, I should shift it up again ….The rest is mainly dyed hair….had a little plastic surgery done, nothing huge….'' Hazel trailed off hoping he wouldn't want any more details. The face Hazel now wore was a mask in so many ways.
'' And is Dahlia even you real name….'' Hazel gasped, he was coming too close to the truth, and his confirmation look into her eyes following the gasp was showing in his smirk.
'' I thought as much…..so then….what part of you is real,'' his hand had become slightly entangled in Hazel's hair, gently pulling her closer. And then his fingers slid down to graze her lips with his thumb.
'' These….are they real..'' His voice was suddenly husky and like gravel, barely a whisper. She wanted to run.
'' Dean…'' Hazel said on a breathy sigh, trying to ignore the rising tide of her feelings, he was too close, too close to getting everything he questioned answered.
Hazel was scared; frightened it could be that easy for him to strain out her self control. A touch and a question….She needed to reign back in her impulses, to take back her power…or she would lose it all.
'' It doesn't matter…'' Hazel replied. As Dean's thumb gently traced her bottom lip, from the turned down corner to the swell above her chin. She felt misplaced beneath his steady gaze.
Her eyes had started to water, the emotions ready to overflow-to escape and she was afraid once they did she wouldn't be able to stop the flow. Hazel wouldn't be able to stop her actions, her reactions. But Dean did it for her.
'' Better get back, think you need a little rest..'' he suddenly proclaimed.
'' Of course…''Hazel answered straitening, as if nothing had just occurred..If he could do it then so could she.
Hazel was trying not to pout…..She felt like a kid who'd just been denied their favorite treat….But brightened at the idea of Sam waiting back at the room. She knew it wouldn't be fair to him, but he didn't seem to be playing fair either-and this girl needed to get laid…..Hazel was on hormone overload, being around the brothers was like walking the pages of a smutty romance novel…..and it was time for this heroine to get something to sooth the ache.
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The thought of Dahlia and her back side dancing in front of him had been clouding Dean's judgments all night. He had tried to stop her from dancing on the table, but the sight of her ass swaying above him had hypnotized and silenced Dean.
He knew he should be considering more important things…such as the strange Houdini act Mc Creepy bartender had pulled, no human vanished like that. And for some reason no matter how hard he tried he couldn't remember the man's features; even though he'd looked him strait in the eye. It was like the harder he tried recalling the details the further they slipped. Then the way Dahlia had reacted, like she was under some kind of spell.
Truth of it was, he was glad she was tipping back a few. Dean was having a hard time with her hurt puppy eyes…..and he just wasn't sure what to make of her. One moment she seemed tough and hard as a navy seal, and the next her vulnerabilities leaked though like rain clouds…she'd be snapping at him one moment, and then lost the next.
Dean just couldn't get used to the lost part of her….Who did she think she was fooling anyhow? It just made him want to protect her more, and not in the normal monster ate my baby kind of way….he barely knew the girl…why would he feel so protective over this stranger?
Dean glanced in her direction, her slight form bent away from him…cuddled into the door of the impala. Her skin looked so pale and almost bruised where the moonlight touched it. She sat quiet and so huddled into the door, that it seemed like she was trying to get as far away from him as she could.
Sam had brought the car to the bar earlier, and after some strange exchange between the two, had left Dean the keys. There was some kind of rift between his brother and mystery girl- it was none of his business…..But that didn't mean he wasn't curious; after all it probably had something to do with whatever it was nobody was telling him. Dahlia had claimed it wasn't important- only Dean's gut told him different.
Dean would head straight for the shower when they got back… It might give Sam and the girl time to work things out, she still owed him an answer after all and he wanted to think carefully on the question. It was difficult for him to imagine what else they might be doing while he was in the shower, and that idea reminded him of the ever building pressure in his jeans-something else a shower would cure.
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'' Hazel…..I can't, '' Sam stated pulling away, his eyes soft and painful.
The impact of her real name, and the ache in his eyes shook Hazel out of her stupor.
'' Why..'' Hazel asked, unable to turn…not wanting to turn, she wanted him to see the pain she felt as well. It was important he realized how she was feeling, knew that their pain was shared.
'' Because…it's not really me that you want….'' Sam answered gently.
'' Of course I want you..'' she defended.
'' It's not the same…..not the way you want Dean…I can see it in your eyes, when you don't think anyone is watching…..I won't play that part again….not like this, when you're not even in your right mind….''
'' But….I need you Sam. I can't stand feeling this way…..everything is too close to the surface…..'' Hazel stopped, if she said too much more, voiced out loud how lonely she really was….It would just make it all the harder to deny it to Sam ever again….It would make things more real, the pink elephant in the room of her obvious weakness.
Hazel gulped back a sob and stopped herself from reaching out to Sam. She was Dahlia and she didn't need anybody. Hazel would repeat it until she believed it again; give it to the Winchesters to have her so quickly turned around in her own head.
Turned down once again by a Winchester, who'd thought it could be so painful the second time around, Hazel pondered.
'' I should've learned my lesson..'' Hazel mumbled to herself.
'' What..'' Sam questioned derision in his face and manor.
'' Nothing, just thinking about how right you are…..Dahlia doesn't need anyone…''She returned.
'' That's not what I…''
'' Doesn't matter Sam…'' Hazel said quietly unable to muster the anger she wished would come with the words; surprisingly, the dead tone seemed to pierce Sam more than Hazel thought it would. And she rolled over turning her back on his pained expression…..hoping that Dean's shower had masked their fight. And that it wouldn't last too much longer-it was too easy to think of his naked form. To imagine it wrapped around hers, even if it was just to hold her….Hazel waited for the sound of Sam's even breathing to let herself cry, muffling her tears against the pillow.
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'' What are you called,'' Hazel asked looking at the dark figure before her.
The Hazel part of her recognized him as being the bizarre man/thing that had posed as the bartender, but she didn't appear as Hazel, or even Dahlia in this dream….. Her long black hair was tinted with reddish hues from the sun and hung in a long thick braid down her back and golden armor. She looked like a warrior. And then Hazel was watching from the side..as if a movie were playing.
The warrior princess stood locked in gaze with the warrior man. His hair the same as hers and with silver armor just as deadly protecting his chest. The shield he held in one hand was emboldened with the image of a god. Probably the warrior god, Hazel decided. The warrior princes held not much adornment but the strange symbol on her breast plate, something long and chiseled like a tail wrapped its half man like body. It was like the meeting of fire and water one would have to cancel out the other. And both warriors seemed to know this, so stood ready, muscles flexed in the glow of a full moon.
The woman smiled as if she knew something he didn't, as she glanced at the moon, the smile was wicked and murderous….the smile of someone who had battled many times, bleed many times…and knew she could win against any opponent. The man seemed not easily daunted and flashed a full set of impossibly white teeth in return as if he was toying with her. He thought he would be the victor and her wicked smile only seemed to rile a playful instinct within him, and a rolling sexuality that leapt off his body like steam in the cool light of the moon.
'' Do you not recognize me daughter of man,'' he asked, his deep voice held authority, and a supreme regal ego that had the girl trembling with rage.
The long hair which had been free while Hazel had been awake was pulled into braids and interwoven with rough glass beads that glimmered in the faint light of fire cast up around them like a wall. More detail like a memory was surfacing as Hazel watched. His handsome face was bronzed and unscarred, eyes golden and deeply lashed. The nose that had seemed hawkish earlier she now saw was slightly hooked above a generous mouth.
Hazel felt glamoured by his looks-before he had just been handsome but now he seemed otherworldly, and impossibly perfect. He paced around the princess as she stood in warrior stance. Her crystal bow and lance ready for any sudden movements. He had no fear only amusement, and being cautious the princess knew he was not her friend. He was taunting her with his movement…causing her to need to turn in his every direction as he circled. The princess was infuriated by this, she knew he was not only testing his opponent but would take her body as well if he could. And this was his way of showing her he could do anything he pleased.
Hazel was back inside the warrior princess once again….Only this time it wasn't a stranger whose appearance she wore….It was Dahlia, daggers held firmly before her, modern cloths and weapons rightfully in place.
'' Why do you hide daughter of man……How can you not recognize me….'' he looked back with benign patients, eyes blinking slightly. But she did recognize him.
'' Of course I recognize you…. from the bar…''Hazel said impatiently leering at the guy…She knew this was no regular dream.
'' Is that all….we are more to each other than even that lap-dog that heeds to your call….He did talk well but could never be my match in battle….He is only a boy….too young in this world. Even you could best him if you recalled your true-self…'' Hazel laughed; Dean was hardly a lap-dog.
'' Dean, is no lap-dog……If he knew what I kept from him….he would….he would hate me..''
'' Your eyes are closed even now…..You forget your own charms-even someone like me fell to so long ago…'' he smiled but gave the impression that it was difficult to do, like he was out of practice.
This felt like more than a dream but if it wasn't than what explanation was there, he talked like he knew Hazel….even spoke almost fondly….Yet surely, he was not human.
'' He is more a lap-dog than you realize…..He considers you possession. He fought for you with bravado when he sensed my threat….I have not battled in so long….if you will not heed to me…I will gladly except his challenge..''
'' I heed to no man's command….'' Hazel replied, crossing her arms and bracing her legs.
'' You are just as beautiful as you were then….But balance must be restored…..try and remember daughter of man…'' he drew out then a sword that looked tipped with fire, and glowed with some kind of inner hell that felt familiar.
'' What was taken….will be restored…..'' he roared before her, with an underlining sadness coarsely woven within.
'' But you haven't answered me….how will I know….or remember whatever it is you think I should.''
'' You will remember…..or your lap-dog will die….'' The image of Dean's eyes and of his green and steady gaze lingered behind her own…..could this be real? Was Dean really in danger, Hazel wondered, that was silly right…Dean was a warrior also, minus the armor and horse; unless, you counted his precious Impala. The thought made Hazel grin Dean was a warrior but was he used to this kind of a fight.
'' How do I know any of this is anything more than a dream…'' Hazel asked mostly to herself but was answered.
'' Three warnings will come…….a full moon after the third. You restore balance or I kill what you love, and there will be no choice in the matter..'' his expression was resolute, wavering like a dark sea, hair blowing in some unfelt tide.
The rest came as a surprise as the dream evaporated around them.
'' Please……don't make me force you……Esmeray…'' And like a quiet afterthought.
'' I loved you once to…''
The name triggered something inside Hazel something that said there were things to remember. Hazel thought of Dean, and she thought of Sam….She could never let them come to harm because of her….But how could she warn them? How could Hazel warn Dean, when even she didn't have the answers?
Hazel watched the rise of the moon through the slanted curtains she had pulled back. Thinking of the dream…A month, a month was all she had to understand, to understand or to watch the only men she'd ever loved die. It had to be more than a dream, right. Hazel could wait to see how long it took for the first sign to show. But Hazel had never been the type to sit and twiddle her thumbs….She had to tell Sam, in the very least, he would know what to do.