Chrys woke up first, humming in contentment when she realized she was tangled up with Sam. She buried her face in his bare chest, relishing the warmth there.

When she couldn't go back to sleep, she gently extracted herself and sat up, stretching and looking around. After the convention (which still made her burst out in giggles regularly), they had decided to head back to Bobby's to look for the Colt. They were about halfway there, they would be getting to Sioux Falls that evening.

Chrys stood and rummaged through their stuff to pull out one of Sam's hoodies and a pair of her leggings. After dressing quickly and silently, she put on shoes, tied her hair back, grabbed a room key, and slipped out the door.

She started off at a slow jog, letting her muscles warm up and find their rhythm. As much as she wanted to think about the Colt, and the apocalypse, she found her thoughts being dragged to Sam more often than not.

Since the incident with Gabriel, he'd been more affectionate than ever. He always had a hand on her back, or he was threading through her hair, or pressing his lips to her temple, or her shoulder if she was in front of him. It was lovely, and she soaked it up eagerly, but it was starting to affect her thought processes.

He. Does. Not. Love. You. She timed the words with her steps, trying to drum them into her own head. Sam didn't love her, she didn't think he ever would. He liked her, sure, she felt safe assuming that. And they were good in bed, although she doubted there was anyone on earth who wouldn't be good with a partner like Sam. But he wasn't in love with her. They weren't in a relationship. They were just… Stuck together.

"Stuck together," she said evenly, still timing the words with her steps. "We're stuck together."

She pushed herself to go faster, trying to outrun her thoughts, and the steady ache in her heart.

Sam woke up slowly, reaching for Chrys to pull her closer to him. When all he touched was cold blankets, he sat up. He scrubbed a hand down his face and looked around, but she wasn't in the room. He stood and dressed in a t-shirt and gym shorts quietly, so as not to disturb Dean, and stepped outside to find her.

He did so quickly. She was jogging around the motel, which had become her custom when they were travelling. He frowned a little, realizing that she was closer to running than jogging, and the look on her face made his heart hurt a little.

What am I doing? He couldn't really figure out how he felt about her. She drove him crazy, she called him out all the time, she was snarky, and her attitude was often bordering on flat out bitchy.

But she was also remarkably kind for what she'd been through. She could make his heart beat faster with a look, she and Dean were obviously close, and it didn't hurt that she was gorgeous and dynamite in bed.

What am I doing? He didn't want to string her along. He didn't want her catching feelings for him, especially since he had no idea how he felt about her.

She spotted him and changed course toward him. He walked forward to meet her in the middle, the asphalt warm under his bare feet.

She smiled, and he couldn't help the way his lips curved up to match it. "Hey," she asked softly, "Everything all right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, you just weren't in bed."

She looked at him strangely. "Sam, I'm always running in the mornings. Did you need something? It couldn't have been sex, Dean was in the room with us."

He thought for a moment, then shrugged and decided to go with honesty. "I like waking up next to you."

Her eyes widened and flashed with emotion before she closed them and sighed. "You've got to stop saying stuff like that, Sammy."

He frowned. "Stuff like what?"

"Um, sweet stuff. Stop being so nice to me, dammit."

His eyebrows rose. "You… Don't want me to be nice to you?"

She sighed again. "I just mean… I just mean, you've got to stop acting like we're in a relationship. This is hard enough as it is."

"What's hard enough as it is?"

She waved her hand and didn't meet his eyes. "Being… Whatever we are. Stuck together. Being around you all the time, twenty-four-seven, is difficult enough without you… Getting all relationshipy on me."

He frowned, confusion and some other emotion making his heart stutter. "I, uh… I guess I don't mean to get 'relationshipy,' or whatever."

She just looked at him for a long moment, and she couldn't hide the hurt in her eyes this time. He gave into the urge to close the distance between them, cupping her face with his hand. "I'm sorry," he said gently, running a thumb slowly across her cheekbone.

Her expression didn't change. "For what?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I didn't mean to upset you, I guess."

She smiled and tilted her head into his head. "Sam, you can't apologize every time I get upset. We'd never get anything done."

He didn't like that. Whether or not he had feelings for her, the thought of her being upset made him want to wrap her in his arms and assure her that it would be all right. He never wanted Chrys to be upset.

Instead, he gently guided her face up until her lips were pressed to his. He kissed her languidly, relishing the soft press of her body against his. He wrapped an arm around her waist, smiling against her when she wrapped hers around his.

"Hey!" Dean's voice had them looking up, but not breaking apart. He was clearly still half asleep. "Could you two stop necking in the parking lot and go get breakfast?"

"Oh, God, Sam," she whispered, "I want you inside me."

Chrys's hot mouth had been at his ear almost the moment Dean had fallen asleep in the backseat. Sam had only been driving for half an hour, but pulling the car over was seeming more and more like a good idea.

"God dammit, Chrys," he growled softly, trying to adjust himself without driving off the road. "Would you stop it?"

He felt her smile, and his heart beat harder. "Do you want me to stop, Sammy?" she moaned softly, her tongue darting out to run along the shell of his ear. "Or do you want me to do something else with my mouth?"

Heat shot down through him, straight to his cock at her words. Her hand slowly moving up his thigh to palm him through his jeans didn't help either. "Jesus, Chrys," he panted.

"Shh, Sammy," she whispered soothingly as she slowly worked to undo his jeans. "Just let me take care of you."

"Chrys, I-" his words were cut off when she had his cock free in a flash, and her warm hand was stroking him gently. Language escaped him, so he just gripped the steering wheel hard and tried to make sure he didn't kill them.

When she shifted and bent her head to press a kiss to the head of his cock, his heart stopped and he bit back a moan. It felt completely natural to place one of his hands on the back of her head, fisting it in her hair helplessly when she hollowed her cheeks and took him into her mouth slowly.

He struggled to keep his breathing even, and to keep them on the road, as she moved up and down his length slowly. Her tongue swirled the tip when she got there, and then she would almost his entire length into her mouth again. Her hand was wrapped around the base of his cock where her mouth couldn't reach, and he had to restrain himself from thrusting into her.

The absolute inappropriateness of the situation was spurring him on, heightening his awareness of her soft hand and her wet mouth on him. His hand was guiding her slowly up and down, and her submission to the act made some alpha, dominant part of him light up.

That part of him decided enough was enough. And the little gas station coming up looked clean enough to finish what his woman had started.

He gently pulled her head away by her hair, gasping when she came off of him with a pop sound. Her lust blown blue eyes took his breath away. Keeping his hand in her hair, he brought her close enough to press his lips to hers, kissing her thoroughly. "Sam," she whimpered softly, "Watch the road."

She started pressing gentle, insistent kisses down his jaw, and he let her. "How about I give the orders, beautiful?" he asked raggedly, smiling fiercely when he felt her shudder at his words.

He pulled the car over slowly, parking at the end of the parking lot. He was shoving himself back into his pants when Dean started to wake up.

"What's going on?" Dean asked blearily.

Chrys's eyes were wide, but her voice was steady. "Just a quick stop, Dean. Go back to sleep."

"Just make it quick, " He grunted, turning back over and falling silent again.

Sam took the opportunity to tangle his hand in Chrys's hair again and pulled her to him to ravage her mouth. Her breathy little whimpers drove him crazy.

He pulled away and her her dazed eyes. "Don't move, beautiful," he rasped softly.

Her eyes widened. "Yes, sir."

The word, "sir" on her lips damn near killed him. He growled and kissed her again forcefully, relishing the way she moved against him.

He quickly got out and walked around, taking a moment to be grateful that they seemed to be alone. He opened her door and took another moment to study her, her long legs under her tangled skirt, her hair draped over her shoulder, her lovely blue eyes staring up at him.

He pitched his voice low. "Come here, Chrys."

She unfolded herself and got out of the car slowly, her eyes never leaving his. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him, kissing her fiercely again. She whimpered and kissed him back, but made no move otherwise. The alpha male in him was roaring in approval in his chest.

Struggling to control himself, he pressed kisses along her jaw until he was at her ear, breathing heavily. "Is this okay?" If she said no she might actually kill him, but he would wrestle himself away from her and take a walk. Or a cold shower. Or jump into an icy lake and live there until he could be with her without jumping her. Above it all, above the confusion and guilt and strange attraction she caused in him, he would never hurt Chrys.

She turned her head to meet his eyes, examining him closely. She brought a hand up slowly to brush her fingers along his cheek. Whatever she saw in his face must have satisfied her, because she gave a tiny nod, her lips pulling up into a smirk.

Possessiveness swamped him, and he crowded her against the car, bending his head until only a whisper away from hers. He stayed there for a long moment, watching her breath quicken. "Good," he said softly, running his hand up to rest on her hip. She whimpered softly, and it broke his control.

He kissed her hard for a moment, then bent and swept her over his shoulder. She squeaked and laughed softly, her legs kicking gently. "Sam!"

He reached up and slapped her on the ass. "What did you just call me?"

She shivered. "I meant sir, I'm sorry, sir."

He grinned. "Good girl."

He pushed his way into the store, keeping her where she was. He looked at the clerk, eyebrows raised. "Bathroom key?"

The kid behind the counter's eyes were wide. He reached under the counter and pulled out the key, handing it to Sam.

Sam saluted. "Thanks." He turned and walked out, walking around the corner to the bathroom.

He locked the door behind him and set Chrys down, holding her close so she slid down his body. When she landed on her feet, her wide eyes met his, and he was very amused to see that she was blushing furiously.

He smirked at her. "Embarrassed, beautiful?"

She made a face. "You know I am. That was some ridiculous, macho, alpha male bullshit, Sam."

He nodded, still smiling. "Yes, it was." He tugged her against him hard. "And you liked it."

She fought a smile and smoothed her hands down his chest. "Maybe," she said softly, looking up at him through her lashes.

He put a finger under her chin and gently tipped her face up to look at him. "Good girl," he said softly, leaning down to kiss her softly.

She sighed and opened for him, satisfying his need for control. He placed his hands on her hips and lifted her, walking toward the sink and setting her down in front of it. He tangled a hand in her hair, tilting her head back further. "Tell me you want me, beautiful."

She whimpered and didn't meet his eyes, sending satisfaction flowing through him. "Yes, sir, I want you," she said softly.

He nuzzled the column of her neck. "Good girl." He kissed his way up to her ear. "If this isn't what you want, at any point, you tell me, Chrys. Understood?"

She turned to meet his eyes, smiling softly. "Yes, sir."

He grinned. "Good."

"Good."

His heated grin made Chrys's head spin. He put his hands on her hips again, and gently spun her around until she was looking at them in the mirror. She dragged in a shuddering breath when he slipped his hand into the waistband of her skirt.

He was laying sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down to her shoulder. "Have I ever told you how beautiful I think you are?"

She whimpered and tilted her head back. "Yes, sir."

"Did you believe me?" She opened her mouth to answer, but he interrupted. "Tell me the truth, Chrys."

She whimpered again when he gently, slowly kicked her legs apart. He very lightly ran his fingers down between her folds, never touching her where she wanted him. She bit her lip hard and resisted the urge to thrust against his hand. "No, not really, sir," she whispered, closing her eyes and feeling herself blush.

"Hmm," he purred against her neck, his other hand running up her side to cup her breast through her shirt. "Why is that?"

He tweaked her nipple, sending sensation through her entire being. "I don't know, sir, probably because you're gorgeous."

He smiled against her neck. "Is that so?" He teased her with one finger at her entrance, causing her body to tense. "Well," he said softly into her ear as he sank a finger into her, making her bite her lip to stop the moan, "I'm just going to have to show you how beautiful I think you are."

The hand pinching her nipple pulled away, and a low whine in the back of her throat signalled her displeasure. Which was quickly replaced with anticipation as that hand moved to pull her skirt up behind her, then placed on her back to ever so slightly tilt her forward. She braced herself on the sink, staying where he'd left her, more turned on than she'd ever been in her life.

She trusted Sam. Even with the orders, even if he did have absolute control, he would never hurt her.

The sound of his zipper brought her out of her thoughts, and the head of his cock pressing against her core had her whimpering and trying to move back onto him.

He stopped her with both hands on her hips, steadying her. "Do you think you're in control here, beautiful?" he asked roughly, gripping her hard.

She whimpered and shook her head. "No, sir."

He used one hand to guide the tip of his cock up and down her folds. "Good girl. Who is in control here, Chrys?"

She met his eyes in the mirror. "You are, sir."

He smirked, and it damn near killed her. "Good girl."

He slammed into her, then reached forward to place a hand over her mouth and pull her up so she was flush against him. "You know I love your screams, beautiful," he muttered into her, thrusting in and out of her so hard she was having trouble following his words, "but you're going to have to try to be quiet, okay?"

She didn't think she could speak, so she just nodded. He smiled. "Good. Now, Chrys," he purred, pitching his voice lower, "I want you to watch me make you come. Understood?"

She nodded again.

"Good."

The hand not holding her mouth slid down to touch her again, and she convulsed when he brushed over her clit. He used his arm to keep her in place, his fingers dancing firm circles onto her clit. Pressure was building up inside her at an alarming rate.

"Chrys, I told you to look at me," he said roughly.

Her eyes flicked up to the mirror, meeting his hot gaze in the glass. He flicked his own eyes down, and hers followed.

The sight of his strong, muscled arm reaching between her legs under her skirt was the most arousing thing Chrys had ever seen. She whimpered into the hand covering her mouth. She watched as he slowly bent to kiss her neck again, then watched his white teeth sink into her flesh just enough to hurt a little.

She could no longer help the way her hips were moving back to meet his thrusts, or the way her fingers clenched around the porcelain of the sink. She was making constant, soft noises in the back of her throat, trying hard not to cry out, and she kept her gaze on the mirror where Sam's hand disappeared into her skirt.

"Chrys," he said roughly. She could tell by his voice that he was close. She flicked her eyes back up to meet his in the mirror. "Look at me when you come."

She nodded, and even if she'd wanted to she couldn't drag her eyes away from his beautiful hazel ones. When her orgasm ripped through her, in a moment of clarity, she saw how lovely Sam really thought she was, she saw what she looked like to him.

Then he was coming hard, slamming into her hard enough that she'd be sore the next day.

She stood up straight so he could drop his head onto her shoulder, his arms slowly coming around to hug her to his chest. He lifted his head and pressed a gentle kiss against her temple. "Was that all right, beautiful?"

She nodded wordlessly, emotions storming through her.

Chris was curled against him, asleep, fifteen minutes after they got back into the car.

Sam just smiled and kept his arm around her, thinking about the trust she'd placed in him. Thinking about how much faith she had to have in him to consent to what they'd done, the way he'd dominated their sex in the bathroom. The fact that it had been in a gas station bathroom made him feel a little guilty, but the little hitch in her walk and the perpetual tilt of her lips into a smile told him that she was just fine with it.

It was starting to look like Chrys may actually be perfect.

Sam hugged her tighter against him and hit the accelerator harder. He wanted to be in a bed with her, sooner rather than later.

**I never know whether to apologize or say, "You're welcome," for the chapters that are just fluff and smut.
**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.