Chapter Twenty-One
Amie was lying with her head on Dean's chest, listening to him breathe. They had been sitting like this for about a half an hour and she would be perfectly happy if they stayed like this forever. She was pretty sure Dean was asleep, even though he still had a death grip on her. A few minutes ago she had heard him murmur something that sounded like 'never again' but she couldn't be sure. She traced small circles with her fingers across his stomach muscles, the monotonous movement somehow calming her. She was just thinking she might fall asleep when there was a knock on the office door. She raised her head to see Sam waving at her through the glass.
Dean sat up, wincing. He rubbed the side of his head. Amie gestured for Sam to come in.
"Hey," he said. "How are you two feeling? Because you look like crap."
Dean smiled. "Thanks, Sammy. Love you too. So, what's up? Did Katarina have anything interesting to say?"
"Yeah, she actually did." Sam proceeded to tell them everything that Katarina had told him. "Apparently, Katrina believes that Castiel is the key to reopening Heaven. She's one of a small faction of angels who don't want to kill Castiel, but instead want to protect him. But in order to do that, she has to find him. She enlisted the help of demons, led by Price, to find us. It was her decision to take Amie, not anyone else's. Price told her about this warehouse and that she might be able to use it."
"So, Price led us to Carthage so Katarina could grab Amie. Abbadon was never here," Dean interjected.
Sam nodded. "Yep. It seems he and Katarina had a rather, let's say interesting, relationship for a demon and an angel. She was extremely upset when she found out he was dead. Anyway, Katarina has never met Abbadon, though she has heard of her. She was hoping she could scare you into telling us where Cas is by hurting Amie. She swears that she never had any intention of killing her. She said if you bring Amie downstairs, she'll heal her. Both of you. She also wants to talk to you. Well, all of us. She thinks she can help."
Amie immediately stood up, wincing as she put pressure on her cut foot. "Well, I don't know about you," she said, "but I'm going to let her heal me. My arm hurts like a bitch. And I'm willing to at least listen to what she has to say. It can't hurt." She started limping toward the door.
"Okay, but wait," Dean blurted out. "Sam?" He gestured at Amie.
Before Amie knew what was happening, Sam had scooped her up and was carrying her out of the office and down the stairs. She could see Dean following close behind. She stuck her tongue out at him. He just laughed.
As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, Sam set her down. Dean came up beside her and set her boots down on the floor, then took her hand.
"You brought my boots," she beamed.
Dean kissed her forehead. "I did," he smiled. He turned to the angel in the ring of Holy Fire, his facial expression immediately hardening. "Sam said that you could help us. Tell me why should I trust you?"
"You should not trust me," Katarina said, resigned. "But I am asking you to believe me. Castiel is the key to returning the angels to Heaven. I just want to help him. I was misguided in the tactics I used for securing your help with Castiel. For that, I do apologize. Please, I may be able to assist you in finding Abbadon and I most assuredly can protect Castiel. Please, give me a chance. I vow not to harm you. For now though, let me heal your wounds. As a gesture of peace, so to speak."
Amie watched Dean closely, the uncertainty evident on his face. He ran his hands through his hair, wincing when he hit the bump on his head. He looked at Amie, in particular her arm, where the cuts still oozed blood through her ruined shirt. He nodded, slightly.
Amie stepped forward, while Sam broke the ring of fire, allowing Katarina to leave the circle. When she moved to place her hand on Amie's arm, she flinched away.
"I am sorry for causing you pain," Katarina said, her fingers lightly grasping Amie's elbow. She moved to Dean as Amie unwrapped the shirt from her arm. The cuts, both of which had most likely needed stitches, were gone. Her foot no longer hurt either. She sat on the floor and quickly slipped on her boots. When she stood up, Dean was next to her, checking her arm.
He turned to Katarina. "What now?" he inquired of the angel.
"I am going to see if I can find out where Abbadon might be. I must also check in with Bartholomew. He will begin to wonder where I am," Katarina answered.
"Wait, how will you find us?" Amie inquired of the angel.
"Through you," Katarina answered. "I will come if you call. I cannot find them," she gestured to the boys, "because of their sigils. Once I know anything, I will be in touch. I promise." Amie heard that strange fluttering sound and Katarina was gone.
Three days cooped up in a shitty motel with Dean and Sam was starting to take its toll on Amie. Her head was pounding from the constant bickering between the boys—they reminded her of an old married couple. She'd had enough fast food to last her the rest of her life. And seriously, if she had to watch one more rerun of Dr. Sexy M.D. she just might throw the television through a wall.
But probably the worst part was her and Dean's inability to get any time alone. Oh sure, they'd managed to sneak in a couple of minutes here and there when Sam went for food or coffee, but nothing substantial. For a couple just starting to explore the sexual side of their relationship, this was very frustrating. So frustrating in fact that Amie had moved from the bed she'd been sharing with Dean to the couch in the corner of the room. If she woke up one more time with Dean's body pressed against hers, his hands all over her, his lips kissing her neck and his eagerness to be with her evident against her leg, she was going to scream.
Amie had no idea how long they would be stuck in Carthage. The boys had explained that the bunker was warded, against, well, everything, and if they went back, Katarina wouldn't be able to find them. So they were staying put. They'd discussed separate rooms, but with all that had happened lately, they decided they were safer together. Not to mention, Dean wouldn't let Amie out of his sight. She was lucky if she could go to the bathroom alone.
She was currently curled up on the couch, trying to read, her Samsung tablet balanced on her knees. She wasn't succeeding though because the boys had started an elaborate three-deck game of War with complicated rules that had them shouting and yelling at each other almost constantly. Since she wasn't getting anywhere with her book, Amie pulled up the web page for a local news channel. What she saw there sent her flying across the room to the boys.
"Look at is," she said, her finger pointing to the news story. "Looks like it's a werewolf, doesn't it?"
Dean took the tablet from Amie as Sam moved his chair closer. They quickly read the story.
"Four deaths over the last four months, during a full moon, heart ripped out and gone?" Dean noted. "Yeah, it has to be. What do you say we go check things out?"
Amie breathed a sigh of relief. She was thrilled to have something to focus on, something to hunt. Dean and Sam seemed just as eager as she was to get started; they moved quickly through the room, gathering their FBI clothes, weapons and fake I.D.'s. A sense of purpose permeated the room.
They started at the police station, posing as FBI agents to gain access to the case files. Amie always found it amazing how easily the local cops were willing to turn a complicated, confusing case over to federal agents. She found it even more interesting how quickly they turned it over to a female FBI agent who flirted with them. Which was exactly how Amie managed to get not only the case files, but use of a small office with a copy machine. She gestured for Dean and Sam through the glass behind the counter. They flashed their badges to the officer at the door and followed her into the office.
Dean closed the door. "Nice job, gorgeous," he said, patting her on the butt as he passed her. Amie felt herself blush.
Nearly an hour later, Amie closed the folder she was reading. "None of the victims even knew each other. They had nothing in common. Literally nothing. I have checked and double-checked everything." Amie tapped her pen against the notebook she carried. "I think we need to pick up some maps, try to narrow down its hunting area. What do you think?"
Dean stretched, leaning back in his chair. Amie couldn't help but admire the way his biceps strained against the sleeves of his dress shirt. She watched his lips as he took a drink from his coffee cup. She shook her head, trying to concentrate.
"Probably a good idea," he responded. "We can grab some on the way back to the motel. Let's find Sam and get going." Dean grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, while Amie gathered her notes and the copies they'd made.
Sam was on his way back when they left the office. He had a stack of folders under his arm and a cup of coffee in his hand. "Hey," he said. "What's up?"
"We're heading back to the motel. We're going to map out the attacks, see if we can figure out its hunting area." Dean looked at the files under Sam's arm. "What's all that?"
"Case files that might relate to this one. The lead detective, Cooper, gave them to me. Said he can't find anything, but he thought we might be able to." Sam gestured to the office. "I'm gonna stay here for a while, go over these. I'll call you if I find anything." He turned and went into the office, shutting the door behind him.
Amie followed Dean out the door to the Impala. He must have noticed she was grinning when she pulled open Baby's door, because he leaned over the roof of the car, smiling at her, a questioning look on his face.
"What?" she asked innocently. "I finally get to sit in the front!" She was ridiculously excited about it. She climbed in the Impala, pulling the heavy door closed behind her.
Dean slid in the car and leaned over, one hand resting on Amie's leg, right above her knee. He kissed her just below her jawline. Amie felt shivers move up her spine. Dean's hand moved farther up her leg, under her skirt, past the top of her thigh-high stockings. Amie felt her breathing speed up, a knot of anticipation forming in her stomach. "Dean…" she panted.
"Shhh," he scolded, his lips moving across her neck, his hand continuing to slide up her leg. His fingers skimmed the lacy underwear she wore, caressing her most sensitive area.
And then all of a sudden, his hand and lips were gone. Amie opened her eyes, disappointment flooding her. She turned to Dean, but he wasn't looking at her. "What the hell, Dean?" she sputtered.
"Unless you want me to take you right here in broad daylight for the whole world to see, we need to get to the motel," he muttered, his voice gruffer than usual.
The drive to the motel seemed to take forever. Amie had the key to their room out and in her hand before Dean had parked the Impala. Dean put his hand on her waist, practically pushing her through the door as she unlocked it. He slammed it closed behind them. Amie turned in his arms, throwing her things to the floor. Dean was kissing her, his tongue impatient in her mouth. She pushed his suit jacket off, letting it fall to the floor, then pulled her own off and threw it next to his. Dean pushed her backwards until her knees hit the bed, unbuttoning her blouse as they walked. Once she was prone on the bed, he kneeled in front of her and pulled her skirt off. His mouth moved to the inside of her thigh as he removed her heels, his tongue caressing the skin just above the top of her stockings. Amie pushed against the bed, her heart racing, need flooding her. Dean took off first one stocking, then the other, his hands and mouth moving up and down her thighs. After he finished taking off her stockings, he moved his hands up to pull off her lacy, black underwear. He leaned over her, trailing kisses across her stomach and down her thighs. Despite the desperate movement of her hips, he didn't touch her where she most wanted him to touch her.
"Dean, please," she moaned.
"I know, baby, I know," he whispered, his tongue flicking, teasing, until his hand finally, maddeningly began caressing her. Dean slid one finger into her, slowly, continuing to torment her.
Amie arched her back, her entire body on fire from Dean's touch. She needed him; needed him to take her, to fill her. She moaned again, breathlessly, no sound coming from her mouth. His finger continued its slow circle inside her, flicking and rubbing.
"Oh, god, Dean, please," she begged.
Finally, Dean put her legs over his shoulders, placed his hands around her waist and pulled her forward until her sex met his mouth. His tongue slid into her, slowly at first, teasing and tantalizing. Amie wiggled and squirmed, her hands clutching the blankets on the bed, waves of pleasure washing over her, low moans falling from her lips. Dean held her in place, making love to her with his mouth. He was consuming her, using his mouth to take her in ways she'd only dreamed about. When the first orgasm shot through her body, she grabbed the back of Dean's head, pulling him closer. He responded, greedily licking and sucking until Amie was screaming in ecstasy, a second orgasm slamming through her.
After Amie was spent, Dean moved his way up her body, kissing her as he went. When he stopped, his face hovering above hers, Amie grabbed his tie and used it to pull him to her lips, kissing him deeply. She loosened the tie and took it off, followed by his shirt. Her hands moved quickly to unbutton his dress pants; Dean helped her push them off, followed by his underwear. Amie took him in her hands, caressing him, taking her time, enjoying the feel of him hardening as she gripped him tight. She heard Dean's breath coming faster as she gently stroked him. She didn't know how it was possible, but she was ready for more.
"I want you inside me, Dean," she whispered in his ear. "Now."
Dean groaned deep in his throat as he positioned himself over Amie, entering her slowly, inch by inch. She moved her hips to meet his, grabbing him to pull him tight against her. Dean caught her lower lip between his teeth, lightly biting her. Then he was kissing her, long and deep, one hand kneading her breast, occasionally twisting the nipple until Amie moaned and writhed beneath him. They moved together, falling into a steady, glorious rhythm. Dean dropped his mouth to her breast, suckling first one then the other. Amie gasped, another orgasm building in her. She pulled Dean closer, their bodies moving faster and faster until she climaxed yet again, Dean not far behind. They collapsed in each other's arms, exhausted and satiated.