Okay, first things first, this story has been changed to Rated M. Thank you so much for sticking with this story for so long. A huge hug and kiss for my beta-reader and co-author, Phoenixofthelostandforgotten. She wrote some of this chapter herself, and it's great. Please review!

Lots o' Love,

Miss Vannix.

Chapter 9:

"Mr. Swayze can rock my world any day," I declared as I shoved a handful of popcorn in my mouth.

Ingrid gave a laugh and spoke around her own popcorn. "You into necrophilia now, Jay? He's been dead for awhile."

I playfully jabbed my elbow into her ribs, both of us laughing. It had been a week and a half since Cas put me on house arrest, and the guys had just gotten back from a hunt. I was bigger around the waist now, being a four and a half months pregnant, and stealing my brothers' t-shirts had become a daily thing.

"What are you two-" Sam paused in the doorway. "Is that my shirt?"

I swallowed the popcorn in my mouth. "Nope."

He just shook his head. "All the blood is going to rush to your heads," Sam pointed out, waving his hand at our positions.

Ingrid and I were both sitting upside down on the couch, our legs stretched out against the wall, a bowl of popcorn sitting between us, and bits of popcorn littering the floor from where we had thrown it at each other. We were watching the Patrick Swayze marathon on TV and mimicking the characters.

As Sam stepped forward to see what we were watching, Swayze said his most famous line.

I lowered my voice, saying it along with him. "Nobody puts Baby in the corner." Ingrid and I laughed.

"I'm really craving ice cream," I stated and began to wiggle, trying to get up but realizing quickly that I was stuck. I couldn't really bend forward due to the child currently residing in my uterus. I sighed.

"Need some help there, Jack?" Sam asked, and I didn't have to look at him to know that he was smiling.

"Yes. And you can quit your smirking, Sam Winchester," I said, struggling to sit up. I gave up and sighed. "Please?" I asked.

"Just because I'm a good person," he said with a hitch of laughter in his voice.

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Saint Samuel." I said as Sam put his hands under my arms and hauled me we without problem to my feet.

I patted his arm and made to walk around him towards the kitchen, when I felt it. It was an actual kick, just to the right of my belly button. I gasped, my hands falling to rest on my stomach.

"Jack? You okay?" Sam asked as he stepped next to me worriedly.

I heard the couch creak and knew that Ingrid had gotten up.

"Shh. Don't talk. Just feel," I ordered as I grabbed his hand and placed it where the baby had just kicked, letting out an elated laugh when he kicked again. Sam jumped, but he too laughed. I placed Ingrid's hand beside Sam's.

"I can't wait to meet him or her," Ingrid whispered and wrapped her arm around my shoulders.

We stood quiet for a few more seconds until my craving for ice cream reappeared. "Okay, ice cream. Anybody else want some?" I asked as I gently moved away from Ingrid and Sam, and resumed my previous destination: the kitchen.

My bare feet padded over the cool tile in Bobby's kitchen, the setting sun slanting through the window over the sink. The house was quiet besides the TV in living room and Ingrid and Sam softly talking. Bobby had gone shopping for groceries, and Dean was out in the garage working on some car. I pulled the freezer door open and pulled out the neapolitan ice cream from where it was wedged between the side of the freezer and a long-expired tv dinner.

I scooped a generous amount into a large bowl and grabbed a spoon. I stuck the spoon in the cool treat and made my way towards the living room where only Sam where remained. I raised a brow. "Where's my redhead best-friend?" I asked as I sat down on the couch next to him.

He shrugged. "I think she said something about finding Dean."

Ingrid Pov:

She shivered in the cool November air. The walk from Bobby's house to the garage wasn't a long one, but the early winter wind pierced easily through her thin jacket, making for a rather unpleasant trip. Goosebumps raised on her legs, and she wrapped her arms around her torso, thankful that she was nearly to the garage. As she drew closer to the small outbuilding, she heard the muffled sound of old country music and the clang of metal on metal. She paused outside just long enough to fix her hair and straighten her shirt, then opened the doors and stepped inside. Ingrid was greeted with a blast of warm air, and she took a moment to relish it. Then she stepped forward, moving around the rusted old Cadillac that took up most of the small building. Carefully stepping around the random tools and grease-stained rags that littered the floor, she walked toward the back of the garage, where most of the clanging could be heard.

Walking up, she saw that Dean was on a creeper, half buried under the car. She took a moment to appreciate the sizeable package that was easily visible beneath his tight jeans. Suddenly, a hand popped out from under the Cadillac, blindly groping on the ground for the socket wrench that had been previously discarded. She reached down and picked it up, turning it over in her hands briefly before pressing it into Dean's. He jumped, and the sound of his head hitting the underside of the car could be heard, along with a (very manly) yelp. He slid out from under the car, a scathing insult undoubtedly forming on his lips, but he paused when he saw her.

"Hi," he said, an appreciative smirk playing at his lips as he looked her up and down. His eyes lingered on the curves of her hips.

"Hi yourself," Ingrid replied, smirking down at him. Dean's mouth went dry. He gulped, but recovered himself quickly.

"So what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?" he teased. He slowly pushed himself up, standing in front of her. It was Ingrid's turn for her mouth to go dry. Sweaty and streaked with grease, dressed only in jeans and an old wifebeater, Dean was undoubtedly one of the most attractive men she'd ever known. Add in his brilliant green eyes, styled hair, and sculpted muscles, he was, to put it simply, smoking hot. Her eyes traveled from his pretty face, over his stubble-coated jaw, down the column of his throat, and she had the sudden desire to nip at his skin right where his neck met with his round shoulder. She looked back up and saw the hungry look in Dean's eyes. Her own eyes darkened, and suddenly they were pressed against one another, lips crushing together, teeth clashing, tongues wrestling for dominance.

Dean put his arms around her waist, pushing her back until she hit the counter. Tools rattled, dangerously close to falling off the workbench, but neither of them really cared, more focused on the clash of lips and teeth. Ingrid tugged Dean's shirt up, needing more skin-on-skin contact. He lifted up his arms, reluctantly breaking their kiss, and tossed the shirt off to the side. She immediately ran her hands over his exposed chest, stroking over the muscles here, lightly scratching at his nipple. He gasped slightly, and she gave into her desires, moving her mouth down to his neck, gently biting at the exposed column of his throat. He groaned, and suddenly he was lifting her shirt over her head, throwing it to the side, her bra following quickly afterward. He pulled their bare chests together, and she moaned as he once again assaulted her mouth. She lifted a leg, wrapping it around his waist and grinding against him. He growled, dropping from her mouth to her neck, licking and nipping his way up to her jaw. His stubble scratched at her skin as he placed small kisses along her jawline, moving up until he found her ear. He gently tugged on her earlobe. His hot breath ghosted over the shell of her ear, and he flicked out his tongue to trace its edge. Ingrid gasped.

"Tell me what you want," Dean breathed in her ear.

Ingrid wrapped her other leg around him. "I want you to fuck me until I can't walk," she whispered back.

He growled, lifting her by the waist and moving her over to the hood of the Cadillac. He set her down, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them down her legs. She toed off her shoes and kicked her pants the rest of the way off, flinging them across the room. Dean traced the edge of her panties, dipping his fingers below the waistband. She whined slightly, wriggling her hips, and he relented, slipping the lace slowly down until it was free. Ingrid moaned as the cool air hit her dripping center. She spread her legs, her head falling back as she gasped.

Dean took a small step back to enjoy the view. Her long, sensuous legs were spread, baring her clean-shaven core, which was positively dripping with arousal. His eyes traveled up, along the curves of her hips and waist, scanning over the flat plane of her stomach, until they finally settled on her voluptuous breasts. His mouth watered with the desire to suck and bite at her nipples, to lick and nip until she came just from that, but he restrained himself. His eyes continued on their journey, travelling up her chest and over the column of her throat, which already had a few light bruises from their earlier activities. He made a mental note to make those bruises last for days, then continued his observation. He eyed her lips, plump and parted slightly in pleasure, before looking at the flush of desire dusting her cheekbones. Dean finally made his way to her soft, curly red hair. Falling in almost-perfect ringlets down her back, he wanted nothing more than to bury his fingers in it, to tug on it until she gasped in both pain and pleasure.

Again, he resisted the urge, opting instead to rid himself of his pants and boxers, tossing them to the side with the rest of their clothes. He sighed as his achingly hard erection was freed from its confines, springing up to bob against his stomach. Ingrid eyed his sizeable package. Of all the men she'd slept with, he was one of the most impressive. Well, she thought. It's not the size that counts. Although it certainly doesn't hurt.

Finally, both of them were naked, and their patience was running thin. Dean moved forward, bending her over until her back hit the hood of the car. He leaned over her, eyes dark with arousal, and she gave a slight smirk. He growled, slamming his lips against hers and thrusting inside of her in a single motion. She cried out, clutching his shoulders as she was filled so suddenly. He groaned at the feeling of her tight, wet walls clenching around him as her body adjusted to his penetration. As much as he wanted to pound her then and there, he waited until she nodded to pull back and slam into her again. She moaned loudly, wrapping her legs around his hips, pulling him even closer. He thrust again, grunting as she dug her nails into his shoulders. He rocked forward, leaning his arms on the car for balance, and she wrapped herself around him, clinging to him like a lifeline. He moved his hips in shallow thrusts, and she dragged her nails down his back, undoubtedly leaving scratches that would linger for days. He growled and suddenly bit down on her neck, almost hard enough to break the skin. She gasped, clawing him again, and he licked soothingly over the already-forming bruise.

Slightly frustrated with the slow pace, Ingrid pulled back far enough to say into his ear, "Dean Winchester, I want you to fuck me. Bend me over the hood of this car and fuck me!"

Dean was happy to oblige. He pulled out, ignoring her sound of disapproval, and flipped her over, her chest now forced against the hood of the car. She moaned at the sensation of cool metal against her heated skin and nipples, but cried out as Dean thrust forcefully into her from behind. He grabbed her hair for leverage, tugging none too gently, pulling her head back. She only moaned at the pleasure edged with pain, both from the hair pulling and this new angle. She felt his cock pushing deeper, farther, and she spread her legs as wide as she could. Suddenly, he hit a spot that made her see stars. She arched her back, clenching hard around him as he hit that same spot over and over again. Just a few more thrusts, and she was coming, her walls constricting his cock almost to the point of pain as wave after wave of bliss tore through her. Dean only managed a bit longer before he came as well, splashing his hot seed over her insides, filling her up to the brim. They stayed like that as they rode out their orgasms, muscles spasming. They panted as they came down from their highs, dropping onto the hood of the car as their muscles finally gave out. Dean carefully untangled his fingers from her hair and pulled out, rolling until he lay on the hood next to her. They stayed there in silence as they caught their breath. Eventually, Ingrid looked over to Dean. "So, you up for round two?"

Jack POV:

I was sitting next to Sam on the couch, watching an old Western movie now that the Swayze marathon was over. I smacked Sam's hand away as he dipped his finger into my bowl. "You want ice cream," I told him as I waved my spoon threateningly. "You can walk yourself into that kitchen and get some."

Sam laughed as he stood. "Nah," he said, stretching. "I think I'm gonna go for a jog. Care to join?"

I rolled my eyes. He chuckled and headed upstairs to get changed. I reclined on the couch, propping my feet up on the arm and setting my now empty bowl on the floor. I flipped aimlessly through the channels, finally settling on some cop show.

After a few minutes, I heard a flutter and felt a slight draft against my bare arms. I glanced around, thinking someone (probably Dean) had left a window cracked. Seeing nothing, I was about to lay back and resume my show when suddenly, he was there. I jumped, nearly falling off the couch. Castiel, the angel that had tried to kill me less than two weeks ago, was standing in front of the TV. I felt my heart flutter in my chest, though I had no idea why. Why was I so attracted to this man? He'd tried to kill me and my unborn child, for God's sake!

Cas shifted uncomfortably, and I realized that I'd been staring at him a bit too long. I cleared my throat, a blush rising to my cheeks. "Wha-" I began at the same time he said "I wis-" We both cut ourselves off, embarrassed. He motioned for me to go first. I licked my lips. "So, what are you doing here?"

"I, uh…" He faltered. "I wished to apologize for my actions earlier. And also to make sure you are… unharmed." Was he blushing? Could angels blush?

I suddenly realized that I was still sitting on the couch. I tried to stand. "Yeah, I'm fine. Totally-" I cut myself off as I nearly overbalanced, tottering dangerously as I rose from the couch.

Suddenly, I felt a strong arm around my shoulders, steadying me. I clutched Cas' shoulder as his other hand came to rest on my hip. My heart began to beat faster with the close proximity. I stared up into his amazingly blue eyes, my entire body thrumming with strange energy. My lips parted as he moved his arm from my shoulders to my lower back, pulling me against him. Slowly, our lips drew together. As they met, I felt fire surge through my entire being, and I wrapped both my arms around his neck, eyes sliding shut. I don't know how long we stayed like that, lips locked and moving in perfect synchrony, but I eventually had to breathe. I pulled away, panting, eyes still closed. I slowly opened them, gazing up at the angel before me. He looked as disheveled as I felt, with his hair a mess and tie askew. After I had regained my breath, he moved forward to reclaim my lips in a kiss, but I gently put a hand against his shoulder, stopping him. He looked down at me in confusion, and he again reminded me of a puppy. I moved my hand up to cup his cheek. He leaned into the touch, though he didn't seem to realize he was doing it.

"Cas," I began, but then stopped, at a loss for words. His brow furrowed even more, and I stroked my thumb across his cheek. "Cas," I tried again. "I like you. I really do like you, even if I don't know why, and judging by that kiss, you feel the same. But," I saw a flicker of disappointment cross his face. I pressed on. "As much as I like you, I really can't get involved with someone right now. With all of..," I gestured to my swollen stomach. "This, going on, I just can't start something like this with you, not when I can't give it the attention it deserves. So, as much as I want to, I can't do this. Yet. Maybe, when this is all over, we can give it a shot. But not now, not here. Do you understand?" I looked into his eyes, mentally pleading with him to get it, to understand that I had too much on my plate with demon children and mysterious powers to add a romance with an angel into the mix.

He thought for a few moments, searching my face. Or my mind, I couldn't tell. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he nodded. "I understand," he said in his gravelly voice. "I understand what pressure you are already under, and I will wait. I will wait for you, Jacklynn Winchester."

I smiled gratefully. "Call me Jack."

He gave a small, almost unnoticeable smile in return, and then he was gone with a flap of his wings.

I plopped down heavily on the couch, thinking about what had just transpired. My lips still tingled from where he had kissed me. Suddenly, I heard Sam thundering down the stairs. I pasted what I hoped was a convincing smile on my face as he walked into the room, now dressed in sweats, tennis shoes, and a light jacket. He smiled back.

"Got your phone?" I asked him.

He patted his pocket. "Right here." He gestured to my forgotten ice cream bowl. "I'll take that to the kitchen for you."

"Thanks," I replied. As I bent down to pick it up, I noticed something. Laying on the floor, right next to my hand, was a feather. I picked up my bowl, moving my leg to block the feather from Sam's sight. I handed the dish over to him, and he walked through the kitchen to the back door, putting it in the sink along the way. I waited until I heard the door slam shut to retrieve the feather, picking it up carefully and turning it over in my fingers. It was just a bit longer than my hand, and it was a sleek, glossy black. It almost seemed to glow, but somehow didn't. I carefully felt the edges, noticing the softness. I studied it for a few more minutes before laying down on the couch once more, holding the feather on my chest as I stared at the ceiling.

As I lay there, I never saw Cas, invisible, keeping watch over me from the corner.

…

I laid on my back on my bed and twisted the feather before my eyes, watching as the light caught the glossy vane. I dropped the feather and blocked it from view when the door swung open and Ingrid entered, her curls in a mess around her face and hickies lining her neck. I raised an eyebrow. She dropped her jacket on one of the posts of the bed and wagged her finger at me as she began to gather the dirty clothes strewn across the room. "Not a word, Jack," she ordered.

I sputtered a laugh. "You and Dean? Hmmm… I really didn't see that one coming."

Ingrid turned around and rolled her eyes, making her way towards the door. "I'm gonna take a shower real quick like. Bobby should be home soon." She left with a small smile thrown over her shoulder and the door closing.

I sighed and slowly sat up on the bed, stretching my arms above my head. I went for the door, the wooden planks cool under my bare feet. As I made my way downstairs, the guy's voices floated up the stairs.

"You got licorice?" Sam sounded appalled.

"Well, your brother asked if I could get it for him," Bobby replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Licorice is disgusting!" Sam argued.

"Well, your face is disgusting and I have to put up with it." Dean's voice entered the conversation.

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips as I rounded the last stair and entered the kitchen. In front of the table stood brother against brother, each staring the other down. Dean's eyes were narrowed, his head slightly tilted back to meet Sam's eyes. Sam's hands were placed on his hips, and neither paid attention as I scooted around them and began to help Bobby unload the groceries.

"It's a showdown, hmm? Which brother is going to win?" I muttered to Bobby as I set the milk in the fridge.

"Really, I think it's a tie. It might just end with Sam sitting on Dean until Dean says uncle." Bobby replied with a sideways glance and a smirk on his lips.

I grabbed the bread and held it in my hands for a moment before I put in the cabinet beside the fridge.

"Hey Bobby. You get what I asked for?" Ingrid's voice greeted us before her face. Ingrid walked into the kitchen, wearing My Little Pony fuzzy pajama pants, a pink tank top, and a towel wrapped around her hair.

I smiled when Dean broke his staring contest with his brother to look at Ingrid, a smirk playing on the corner of his lips. The smirk dropped when he saw the pants. "C'mon! Can't anybody wear normal sleeping pants around here?" Dean threw his hands up in the air and stormed out of the kitchen.

I looked to each person in the room, arching my brow. "Damn. He's in a mood today."

Ingrid nodded while Sam headed for his laptop, which was buried under groceries on the table. He moved them off his device, then sat among the plastic bags filled with food and began to type.

Ingrid pulled out a pack of steaks from one of the bags.

"You're cooking tonight?" I asked as my eyes widened and my mouth watered.

Ingrid looked over at me and smiled, setting the steaks down on the countertop.

"You betcha, Jay. It's about time we had a real dinner around here."

I smiled and grabbed another bag off the table, putting away the contents. After I finished putting away all the groceries, I slumped into a kitchen chair across from Sam, watching Ingrid's back as she worked on dinner.

"Need help, Ingrid?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Nope. I've got this, Jay." Ingrid replied without looking at me.

I sighed and shoved myself up out of the old wood chair. I began to make my way towards the living room when an idea occurred to me. "Anybody up for UNO?"

…

"Draw four, Dean." I said with a smile as I smacked the card down on the pile.

Dean smirked. "Sorry, Bobby." He dropped another draw four card. "You draw eight."

Bobby just snorted and threw down a draw four wild card. "Twelve, Sam. And the new color is green."

Sam groaned, letting his head fall and thump against the table. He stayed like that for a few moments before lifting his head and drawing his twelve cards with a grimace. He stared at his hand. "Who in the hell shuffled these?" he asked, drawing another card. And another. And another. On the fifth card, he let out a cry of "Finally!" and threw down a green card.

"Uno." I placed another card on the pile. Sam's shoulders slumped and he gave me his puppy-eyed look.

I shrugged and waited patiently for the color to change. I needed red. Or a five. My stomach rumbled at the smell of steak wafting through the house, and I looked over my shoulder at Ingrid flipping the meat in the sizzling pan.

"Dinner!" Ingrid called loudly from the kitchen.

My stomach growled loudly, and Sam laughed. "Apparently that baby's really hungry," he commented.

"I haven't eaten one of Ingrid's meals in a long time." To punctate my words, I quickly grabbed a plate and began to fill it up.