Chapter 11

Sam

Serra rolled off of me and wiped her face, a sheen of sweat made her even sexier than before. We were both out of breath and exhausted from round two. "I want some food," she said, reaching for the menu on the nightstand. "There's food they'll bring to me, right?"

I laughed. Serra ran like clockwork. Sex and food. Sex and food. They always went together. I couldn't keep my hands off of her, though. While she examined the menu, I traced the tattoos that ran down her body with my fingers. My favorite was easily the Colt Peacemaker surrounded by roses and lace that crawled up her hip. Grace only just missed it when she shot Serra, keeping Crowley from possessing her. There was a compass across her shoulder that I inspected as she rolled towards the phone and recently, she had added Liberty's name along the line of the arrow that pointed north, and of course, there was her horseshoe and four leaf clover that she and Grace shared. Grace's name was not represented, but a faint, lightly shaded dove floated above the horseshoe that Serra insisted on getting when she was nineteen. I knew that Grace hated her symbol on Serra's back, but Serra didn't care. She always wanted a piece of Grace with her, and that was the easiest way. I was pretty sure that the girls also shared the compass tattoo, but anything else on Grace's body was a mystery.

Serendipity was speaking on the phone, ordering room service for the both of us. She glanced back at me to make sure that a pastrami sandwich sounded good to me (it did) and she ordered a hamburger for herself. "Fries," I whispered to her.

"And a large order of fries," she added as she wrapped up the order. "Room 512. Thanks."

She turned towards me and put her hand on my face, pulling me closer. "Food is coming. Think we have enough time to do it again?"

"Speed record," I said, grinning.

Room service was prompt. I had just fallen to Serra's side as she lay on the bed, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail at the top of her head. "Room service!" a man called from outside the door when we didn't answer the first knock.

"Coming! Coming!" Serra shouted, "Don't leave with my food." She struggled to pull her sweats on, stumbling slightly when she missed the leg of her pants. The Johnny Cash shirt she put on was backwards and she didn't realize it until she was already answering the door. "Hi, thanks," she said, opening the door wide. I was standing, shirtless in the middle of the room, not even bothering to try to find my flannel in the chaos of the room. The attendant smiled slyly as he saw Serra's disheveled hair and backwards shirt and then avoided me completely when he realized I was shirtless. He opened the trays as quickly as he could, Serra giggled, and tipped him as he backed away quickly, shutting the door behind him.

"They're not gonna wanna come back up here," she said, taking a fry from the plate and carrying it in her mouth as she pushed the cart towards the bed. "We'd better enjoy it now."

I chuckled as I sat in the chair opposite my wife and watched her dig into her hamburger. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She and Grace had completely different looks: Grace was olive skinned and had wavy blonde hair with blue eyes and arched eyebrows. Serra was so completely opposite, it was hard to believe they were sisters. Serra had mysterious dark brown eyes, amazingly stick-straight chestnut hair, perfect porcelain skin, and more expression in her eyebrows than you could shake a stick at. They were both gorgeous, but each in their own way, and I was obviously much more attracted to Serra.

I'm really glad that she's not the psychic.

As I watched her out of the corner of my eye, I wondered just how many genetic similarities that the girls shared. They looked so different, but had similar personalities, Serra was the more impulsive, outspoken, and opinionated one, and Grace was the more controlled, predictable, more thoughtful, and stoic one. They complemented each other perfectly and we well suited to hunt together, protecting each other with their lives. Now that they were both Winchesters, Dean and I made sure they would never have to fight alone again.

Two days later, we had arrived in Corpus Christi and made a claim to that hotel room as well. This time, our room was a tiny beach house, just yards away from the harbor. There was sand in the living room from our few excursions to the shoreline and clothes littered the entire house as we made love in every room throughout the week. Serra's newest tattoo was healing nicely. I made it a point to lather it with ointment every chance I got: keeping her lower right hip moisturized was not a chore. The protective pentagram was similar to mine, but she also included a few angelic sigils that kept her hidden from most cosmic monsters as well. She had talked to Grace before she had them done; making sure that none of the marks blocked her sister's psychic abilities. The connection was still there, strong as ever, as they tested the marks with Sharpie first.

Serra told me that Grace's powers had gotten stronger, even since New Orleans. Grace could hear her from where we were staying in Texas, almost two thousand miles away. Satisfied that nothing affected their connection, the tattoo artist had made sure to include the feminine flair that Serra had requested, incorporating into the lace that existed already on her hip. It really was a beautiful piece of art.

Coming out of the shower, I could hear Serra on the phone with Grace, lying on the bed, completely naked, with her legs up on the headboard. "I dunno," she was saying, "maybe around seventy or seventy five? I mean, it's still winter." Grace spoke, her voice just a murmur over the speaker. "We've been down a couple of times, but really. The house is so nice."

You're not going outside, Grace was saying over the phone to her sister, you're just a horny hermit!

"And what if I am?" Serra said, laughing.

Use protection, came Grace and Serra's automatic response. Unless you wanna end up like me. Honeymoon baby.

"Oh, God," Serra said, glancing back at me as I was pulling on a pair of jeans. "No. I'm not done with him yet."

Neither was I, Grace said, still laughing, but here I am with a baby.

"At least she's cute," Serra replied. I was dying to know what they were talking about. Serra winked at me and I smiled in return. "Okay, big sister. Off to do some more fucking."

You're so classy, Grace said, giggling. I smiled too, suddenly knowing what they had been discussing. Be safe. Text me when you leave.

The next few days were heaven on Earth. We spent the majority of our time together naked, making love and then, laying over each other and eating. I knew the end of our time in paradise was coming to an end and sooner or later, we would have to return to reality.