A/N: I've finally decided to stop prolonging the inevitable and reward you all for your patience. (Kiddies, note the rating & avert your eyes!) Hope it meets expectations. Enjoy. ;-)
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own the show Supernatural or the character of John Winchester.
John placed the call to the Roadhouse and arranged a meeting at Bobby's place; they all agreed it would be best to work on the trap outside the gremlin-infested town. Bobby towed John's truck, John and Nell riding along with him. They arrived at the salvage yard a few hours before Ash showed up in a rattling old VW Beetle that seemed to be held together mainly by bumper stickers bearing such pithy phrases as GUNS DON'T KILL PEOPLE, BULLETS DO and I DIDN'T CLIMB TO THE TOP OF THE FOOD CHAIN TO EAT SALAD and, oddly, ENTROPY HAPPENS. The Beetle's engine died with a cough and the gangly Ash unfolded himself from the cramped vehicle, tossing his head back so the long hair of his mullet flowed behind him. "Wassup?" he drawled.
John didn't mince words, "We need your help to build a gremlin trap."
"Gremlins," the oddball nodded sagely, "Rockin'."
He immediately commandeered Bobby's workshop and spent the next twelve hours simply designing what they'd eventually build. In the meantime John and Bobby worked on fixing the mess the gremlins made of John's pickup. Nell tried to help at first, but after about an hour of mostly handing over the tools the guys requested, she caved in to the boredom and decided to kill time in Bobby's house. Like its owner, she dug the place the second she laid eyes on it. Books of all kinds, most of them old, some in languages she didn't even recognize, were stacked here and there all over the place. Scattered amongst this bizarre library were a variety of artifacts and weapons ("Careful 'bout touchin' anything," Bobby admonished her, "Some of that stuff's loaded."). It was hard to stay bored with so many weird things to look at. When the guys eventually came inside, all covered with engine grease and sweat, Nell was curled up in a frayed old easy chair with a huge volume on obscure spirits splayed out on her lap.
"Ash still planning?" John asked.
Nell nodded to the closed door leading to the workshop. The muffled strains of Ted Nugent's "Cat Scratch Fever" could be heard. "He's still going at it. Either that or he's getting seriously baked in there."
Bobby snorted in amusement and started down a hallway. "I'm gonna take a shower. You can use the other one upstairs, if ya want, John."
John, sprawled in a tired heap on an equally tired sofa, grunted acknowledgment. Once Bobby was out of sight, he turned to Nell and asked, "You good for now, or are we gonna have to make a trip into town?"
Nell cleared her throat. "Uh, actually, Ash let me draw a pint from him. I'm good for a while."
John frowned. For some reason, her taking blood from someone they knew didn't quite sit well with him. It almost felt like jealousy, which was ridiculous. It was just food to her, for god's sake!
"Good," he muttered tersely. He got up from the couch—the springs groaned in relief—and headed for the stairs. "I'm gonna go wash some of this crap off. Let me know if Ash emerges from his lair."
Nell smirked. "I will."
A few minutes after John disappeared upstairs, Nell set the book aside and went into the kitchen. She expected Bobby to have a typical bachelor's fridge; something along the lines of a six-pack and a half-empty jar of pickles. What she found instead were several containers of spaghetti and meatballs. Apparently, Bobby cooked a batch large enough to last him over a week. Nell grabbed four containers and heated them in the microwave. By the time Bobby and John returned from their freshening-up, three of the now warm meals were arranged on the table and Nell was carrying the fourth over to Ash's door. She pounded on the door with her fist, hoping he noticed over the din of southern rock music and his own distraction. "Ash! Food!"
The door was jerked open, Ash's thin arm darted out to yank the food from her grasp, and the door slammed shut again. "You're welcome," Nell muttered sarcastically. She returned to the kitchen to find the others already digging in. She took her seat without a word and picked up her fork. The spaghetti wasn't half bad, all things considered.
They ate in relative silence, and when they were done Bobby gathered up the dishes to wash them. Despite all the clutter, he actually kept a fairly clean home. Nell found it strange, because he didn't strike her as the type to care about domestic stuff like vacuuming. It made her wonder if maybe he was married at some point. Some women liked to train their husbands on the finer points of keeping house. It would also explain the size of the house; way too big for just one person. If that was the case with Bobby, where was the wife now? Were they divorced or...
Or was her absence the reason Bobby became a Hunter? Nell hoped it wasn't so.
John yawned; even though it was quiet, Bobby still noticed. "You can use the spare room if ya wanna have a lie down. Doesn't look like Ash is gonna be ready anytime soon."
"Thanks." John stood, left the kitchen.
Bobby threw Nell an apologetic look. "Sorry, didn't think about you. You, uh, can sleep in my bed if ya want. I'll take the couch."
Nell thought about it, but something told her she wouldn't be able to sleep all that well in someone else's bed. Bobby was a good guy, but...his scent was all wrong. Then Nell thought about whose scent was right and a strange mixture of excitement and unease rose in her. "No, thanks," she said quickly, "I'm not tired."
"Well, I sure as hell am," Bobby sighed, putting the last dish in the drying rack and draining the sink. "I'm gonna hit the sack, then. If ya need anything, don't be shy 'bout waking me. Some of the stuff I keep here's pretty damn dangerous and rummaging around ain't the best idea."
Nell promised not to stick her fingers into anything, then she and Bobby said their goodnights and Nell was soon left on her own with only the distant sound of Ash's soundtrack to keep her company. She wandered around for a while, checking out the strange objects littering the house. Lounged on the couch and flicked through random channels on the TV. A strange restlessness had taken hold of her. It was nighttime, which was when she was naturally most active, but it was something more than that as well. Deep down, she already knew what it was; she just wasn't quite ready to admit it.
A couple of infomercials later, Nell finally lost patience. She turned the TV off, tossed the remote aside, and got up from the couch. She jogged up the stairs, followed John's distinctive scent trail to a door that had to lead to the spare room. It was there that she hesitated. Should she knock? He had to be asleep by now. Nell doubted he'd appreciate being woken just because she was antsy.
Nell raised her fist, lowered it, shifted from foot to foot, raised her fist again. "Shit," she growled in frustration, dropped her arm, and turned away.
"You coming in or what?" John's muffled voice reached her ears. Nell uttered a self-deprecating laugh and entered the room. Her light-sensitive eyes easily picked out the details of the darkened room. John lay on his side in a queen sized bed, hair mussed and eyes squinting from interrupted sleep. Nell shut the door behind her.
"Sorry, man. I didn't wanna wake you."
"It's fine," John sat up with a grunt, ran his hand through his messy hair, "I wasn't sleeping all that great, anyway." Even though she had to be little more than a shadow to him, something in her body language made him frown in concern. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Nell shrugged, shoved her hands in her pockets, "Just, y'know, edgy." She'd hoped being around him would calm her, but this time his presence had the opposite effect. Nell regretted coming here and wished she could think of an excuse to leave.
John nodded in sympathy. "I never much liked waiting, either." He reached out, turned on the bedside lamp. Nell blinked at the sudden (though dim) light, her eyes gleaming like an animal's. When John first saw that affect in other vampires, he found it eerie; proof that they were inhuman creatures waiting for extermination. He didn't find it eerie in Nell, though. Instead, he thought her glowing eyes were oddly beautiful.
John wasn't oblivious to what was happening. There was a tension growing between them, both frightening and elating. Frightening because they both knew the pain they would be made vulnerable to; elating because neither of them thought they'd ever experience this feeling again.
He stood and walked towards her, hands in his pockets, mirroring her posture. He had on a T-shirt and jeans, but his feet were bare, not even socks on. They hardly made a sound as he tread across the floorboards. "I suppose we could think up a way to kill some time if we put our heads together."
"Like what?" Nell tilted her head, "Checkers? Yahtzee? Strip poker?"
John snorted at that last suggestion. "Or we could watch a movie."
"Sure!" She flashed a coy smile, "Think Bobby's got a copy of Gremlins?"
He rolled his eyes. "That's pretty lame even for you."
"Sorry. I'm a little off my game."
They were close enough to each other now that Nell had to tilt her head a little to meet his gaze. Having always been a tall woman, she found something enjoyable about having to look up at the six-foot-two Hunter.
"Was Bobby ever married?" she blurted the question out of the blue. She instantly regretted asking it when she saw John's expression turn sober.
"Yeah," he said, his voice somber, "His wife's name was Karen. A demon possessed her. Bobby didn't know anything about devil's traps or exorcisms back then. The only thing he could do was..."
Nell's throat tightened. "He killed her."
John nodded. "Yeah."
Nell looked away from him, blinking rapidly. "Did everybody who became a Hunter lose somebody?"
"Pretty much," John sighed, "You're something of an anomaly. Aside from being a vampire, that is."
"Not really," she said, "I lost Harrison."
"But you lost him to a Hunter, not a supernatural being."
"He died protecting me," Nell swallowed a lump in her throat, "He died because of me. So, I did lose him to a supernatural being, in a way."
John took another step closer. "My point is, most people become Hunters to take revenge on the things that destroyed the people they loved. I'm still wondering what your reason is."
"I told you. I was curious-"
"That's not the main reason," he interrupted.
Nell thought about it. "I guess...I wanna prove that I'm not a monster."
John smiled. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm convinced."
"That's a relief," she grinned, "I'd hate to hafta kick your ass again.
"If by kicking my ass you mean running away," he retorted.
Nell scoffed, "I was only trying to avoid causing you permanent damage."
"Come on! I had the upper hand and we both know it."
"Yeah. Keep telling yourself that, cowboy."
John's smile thinned, a dangerous gleam came to his eyes. "I warned you about calling me cowboy." He lunged and kissed her without warning. It was little more than a peck on the lips, but when he pulled away they were both flushed with embarrassment. He'd acted purely out of impulse and was every bit as shocked as Nell by what he did.
They stared at each other for a long beat, then both started laughing. Giggling, really, like nervous kids. It took several minutes for them to get a hold of themselves, and neither one of them could look at each other for fear of losing it again.
Nell's cheeks were so red she looked ready to burst into flame. She struggled to think of something to say. "Um..."
She raised her head and her eyes locked with John's. Something snapped. Nell's hands grabbed either side of John's head and pulled him into another kiss, this one far deeper than the one before. John didn't even try to move away from her. One hand went to the back of Nell's head, the other to the small of her back, crushing her against him. Her body felt so slight in his arms, yet so powerful. His tongue slid into her mouth, exploring its contours and rolling against her tongue. Sharp points scraped his lips and he realized her second set of teeth had descended. He tasted his own blood; no more than a few drops. Nell moaned.
They finally ended the kiss, both panting heavily, their arms still around each other. Nell saw John run his tongue over his sore lips and she looked away, ashamed. "I'm sorry. I...I wasn't trying to feed. It's just-"
"That I taste so good?" John grinned.
Nell uttered a small, embarrassed laugh. "Actually, yeah." Her hands slowly slid to his chest, seeming to move of their own accord. "I can hear your heart beating," she whispered, "I can hear the blood moving through you. I'm so used to these sounds in other people I barely notice anymore, but with you I hear it so clearly. And it doesn't make me think about feeding." She looked at him then, her eyes so intensely green they were like jade. John wanted to fall into them. He leaned in to kiss her again, but she pulled back. "If we do this, it's for life," she reminded him, frightened and hopeful.
John smiled and gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "I know. It's insane. Anyone would say we've both gone off the deep end." He didn't say "if we go through with it," which didn't escape her notice.
"But?" she prompted.
He shook his head. "But nothing. They'd be right. I just can't bring myself to give a damn."
Nell's laugh was cut short when John yanked her close and kissed her again. His mouth left hers and trailed down her neck. He nipped at her fair skin, his teeth leaving red marks that quickly faded. Nell giggled nipped at his earlobe, drawing the tiniest drop of blood which she sucked from the lobe, her saliva healing the miniscule wound. She tugged at his shirt impatiently. "Take it off before I rip it off."
John stepped back and slipped his T-shirt off, let it drop to the floor. Nell's gaze roamed over his exposed torso: muscular without being bulky, a patch of dark hair on his chest with a thin trail leading down and disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. She met his amused stare and grinned. "Not bad for a dude in his fifties," she said.
John chuckled, reached out and lifted her shirt from her, Nell cooperatively lifting her arms. Once the garment was tossed aside, John undid her ponytail. He smiled as she shook out her long golden curls. He then reached around to unclasp her bra. Nell slipped the straps off her shoulders and let it fall, then abruptly crossed her arms over her breasts, slightly anxious. John was surprised; he never figured her for the self-conscious type. He took hold of her wrists and and gently pulled them away. He smiled in admiration of what he saw. The protective charm he'd given her rested in the valley between her perfect breasts, glittering in the dim light cast by the bedside lamp. "You're not too shabby, yourself," he said.
"Gee, thanks," she laughed, "I feel all warm and tingly." She gasped; John's hands were on her breasts, large and warm, the pads of his thumbs circling her nipples.
"Me too," he breathed.
It wasn't long before the rest of their clothes were scattered around the room. Nell had been startled to see John's hands shake as he fumbled with his belt. He's as nervous as I am, she realized. This didn't make her any less trembly herself, but it did make her less embarrassed about it. It was, after all, the first time in a long time for both of them. It wasn't what one would imagine; no silent tears or slow caresses. They laughed at their own clumsiness and at the discovery that there was no sense of guilt or sorrow. This moment between them was simple happiness.
John lifted Nell into his arms and walked them towards the bed, her legs coiled around his waist, his mouth latched onto her left nipple. Nell moaned and tangled her fingers in his hair, grinding herself against his erection. John sat down on the edge of the bed and Nell adjusted her position to straddle him, her knees on either side of his thighs. Her hand snaked down and wrapped around his member. John threw his head back and groaned as she stroked him with a teasing smile, then maneuvered herself over him. John grabbed her hips and pulled her down, grunting as he sank into her warmth.
Nell cupped his face in her hands, kissed him deeply. Her hips moved in rolling thrusts. John put his arms around her and flipped them onto the bed. Nell lay on her back with her long hair splayed over the sheets. She gasped as John slammed into her again and again, almost brutally. She rose to meet him each time and laughed, the joyous sound spurring him on.
"Nell..." he rasped. Her eyes opened. There was no fear or regret in them and John knew she saw the same in his.
"It's happening," she whispered. Her eyes widened; she felt it. It happened in an instant that stretched on like an eternity, an experience she'd been through only once before, with Harrison; the forming of a connection that would last a lifetime. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. A broad smile lit up her entire face. And when the moment passed, she came.
The tightening of her inner walls triggered John's climax. His body tensed and a long, drawn-out groan escaped from between his clenched jaws. Then he shuddered and it seemed like all his muscles turned into Jell-O. He tried to roll off Nell before he collapsed on top of her, but she held onto him. He looked down at her tired smile. "I'm stronger than you are, remember?" she said, "I'm not gonna break."
Though he knew she was right, John was still reluctant to put all his weight on her. He supported himself on trembling arms until his strength finally gave out and his body settled on top of hers.
"See?" she chided, "I'm fine." She kissed him, her hands tracing the expanse of his back. John let out a happy rumble that almost sounded like a purr. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so comforted. He nibbled at Nell's collarbone and she chuckled.
"We've really done it this time," John smirked, "Now we're stuck with each other."
"You're stuck with me, anyway," Nell clarified, "The imprinting only goes one way, since you're human."
John ran his fingers through her tangled hair. "I don't believe in one-way relationships."
"So," she hesitated, "No second thoughts? No 'Oh, shit, what've I gotten myself into' panic attacks?"
John chuckled. "Well, it's kinda late for second thoughts. We've already done the deed. As for panic attacks," he shook his head, "I know what I've gotten myself into. I think I knew the second I said yes to you helping me on that first hunt."
"After you tried to kill me," Nell reminded him with a mock frown.
John grimaced. "You're never gonna let that go, are you?"
"Nope. Y'know, you never really apologized for that, either."
"Oh, well, allow me to correct that oversight," his lips met hers in a lingering kiss, followed by shorter pecks every couple of words, "I'm sorry...I tried...to kill...you."
Nell's smile got wider after each kiss until she was giggling. "Well, you did sorta marry me just now, so I guess I can let it slide this once." She found her eyes drifting towards the ring on his left hand, wondering if she might've made a poor choice of words.
John noticed where her attention went and held up his left hand, staring at the wedding band on his finger. "It's okay," he said, "Wherever Mary and Harrison are, they know we don't love them any less."
Nell swallowed. "You really think part of 'em still...still exists?"
He nodded, "I've seen too many ghosts and spirits not to believe it."
Something like relief flickered in her expression. "I'm glad. It tore me up for a while, wondering if there really was any kind of afterlife or if Harrison just...ended. I'm glad he isn't totally gone." She lightly touched the side of his face. "D'you think we'll go to the same place as them when we finally die?"
John's smile held a touch of sadness. "I hope so. Though I was under the impression that vampires are immortal." He quirked an eyebrow.
Nell scoffed, "Please, I'm not under the illusion that just 'cause I can't die from natural causes doesn't mean I'm not gonna die someday. Nobody lives forever."
John thought about the yellow-eyed demon, a creature that had probably existed since the world began and had every reason to believe it would be around long after humans were out of the picture—snuffed out by a magic bullet. "You're right," he mused, "And when Bobby finds out what we just did, he might even prove it."
"How's he gonna find out? I mean, we don't have to tell him."
John gave her a doubtful look, "He'll know. I don't think much of anything gets by him."
After giving it some thought, Nell had to agree. "I guess just about everyone's gonna be against this," she said glumly.
"I hope my sons aren't." She heard the anguish in John's voice, though he tried to hide it.
Nell nudged him and they rolled onto their sides. She propped herself up on her elbow and gazed down at him, her expression serious. "You weren't the one who imprinted," she reminded him, "You can decide. If it gets to be too much, you can still walk away."
John stared up at her for a long time, then leaned up on his elbow, his other hand cupping the back of her head, and kissed her. "I already made my decision," he said, resting his forehead against hers, "I won't leave you. I might get taken from you someday, but I won't ever leave you."
Nell's throat constricted. "This is nuts," she croaked, "We've only known each other-"
"How long did you know Harrison before you knew he was the one?" John interrupted.
Nell blinked, then frowned in thought. "I...I don't know. It's like I always knew it was him even before I met him."
John smiled and nodded. "The same for me with Mary," he stroked her face, "The same with you."
A slow smile spread across her eternally youthful features. "John."
"Yeah, Nell?"
She leaned closer. "Let's have sex again, cowboy," she whispered in his ear, then licked it.
John shuddered in pleasure. He cupped her breast, marveling at how perfectly it fit in his palm. Then, with a deep chuckle, he pushed her down onto the bed and covered her slender body with his.