Author's Note: I still don't own these characters. SMUT ALERT! Enough said? :) Sorry this took so long to get updated.

Chapter 26

Releasing a heavy sigh, Meranda pulled away. She walked past Dean to a tall cabinet and opened it. He could see two shelves filled with thick towels, another with bottles and jars of different shapes and sizes and what appeared to be a large red tool box with the words "FIRST AID" on the front of it. She took two bottles from the top shelf – one cobalt blue, the other clear – and handed them to Dean who sat them on the vanity. She then pulled out a large towel and attempted to take out the first aid kit before looking to him for assistance.

Without speaking, he gave her a look that said that she should know better. She stepped out of the way and he picked up the box, putting it on the vanity as well while she closed the cabinet. He watched as she took the two bottles – one containing a powder, the other a liquid – and poured measured amounts into the bathwater. A sweet aroma filled the room and the water seemed to come alive, bubbling and roiling. She handed him the bottles and he put them back into the cabinet where she'd gotten them. Turning back to her, he realized that she'd taken off her undergarments and now stood completely naked, with the exception of the bandage, before him.

The desire hadn't left him, but the bandage poked at his need to care for her, causing him to put that need before his wants. He went to her and she took his hands as she stepped into the large cast iron bathtub. Her skin immediately began turning pink from the heat of the water and as she gradually lowered herself down into it, her breath caught in her throat with each inch. Once she was settled, she lay back. The water was deep enough to cover her up to her neck. She took in a breath and held it before sliding completely under, wetting her hair. As the water continued to bubble around her, she slowly began removing the bandage. Dean watched in silence, not sure if he should advise against it.

Once it was removed she pulled it from the water, balled it up and tossed it into the small trashcan beside the door. She opened the bottle of shampoo that sat in a basket attached to the side of the tub and Dean watched as she washed her hair. She squeezed the water from her hair when she was finished and in no time had it twisted into a neat bun at the crown of her head. Removing an elastic band from the neck of the shampoo bottle, she secured her hair into place. Next, she picked up a large sea sponge and a small bottle. Dean took them from her and, after wetting the sponge in the water, applied a dollop of the tonic from the bottle to it and began bathing her. He'd been reluctant to wash her hair because of its length, but he remembered how comforting it was when she bathed him and was determined to return the favor.

He began washing her face and neck and she closed her eyes and rolled her head from one side to the other as he went. She submerged again to rinse and rose slowly back up for him to continue. As he moved to her shoulders and back she delivered a contented sigh, her muscles visibly relaxing under his touch.

He slid his hand under her arm, following its shape with his fingers down to her hand and raised it out of the water. Tracing the contours of her arm from her shoulder down to her fingertips, he then raised it higher and followed the underside down to her armpit and then to her breast. He repeated the process on her other arm. She sat up straighter, lifting more of her upper body out of the water and as Dean worked the sponge toward the wound, he lessened the amount of pressure he was using, trying his best to avoid causing her pain. But as he inched his way closer, he noticed that the wound looked more like it had a week's worth of time to heal instead of less than 24 hours. When his motions slowed, she looked down at the wound and then to Dean.

"It's a combination of my abilities and the potions in the water," she said, answering the question she saw in his eyes.

He hadn't realized until she answered that as much as he wanted to know the answers, he was reluctant to ask the questions, to take that first step toward the ominous chasm of thought that he has managed to escape until now.

As if testing the strength of a rickety bridge by adding slight pressure on the first board, he asked, "Potions? Are you a witch too?" His tone was unassuming and not accusatory.

Laughing lightly, she responded, "No…my mother and father employed a healer. I guess she would be considered more like a witchdoctor, but she used her magic only to heal. Her thought on the subject was that if she concentrated all of her magic on doing one thing rather than a variety of things, she could be the best ever at whatever she chose as a specialty. She was very compassionate and empathetic toward others and to her it only made sense to choose to heal. Anyway, she knew that she wouldn't always be there to heal our family and she taught my mother and me to make a variety of healing potions and powders for ourselves."

He had continued bathing her as he listened. They both seemed relieved the longer she spoke – her because she was able to share a part of herself she'd had to keep guarded for longer than he could imagine and him mainly because she wasn't also a witch. He was fairly certain that just grasping the concept of the succubus part of her was going to be all he could handle. He was also rather surprised to learn that there's a possibility that although he'd been taught these things fit into neat little boxes, they don't necessarily fit at all. He was still on the fence as to whether this veiled revelation was a good thing or a bad thing. His experience told him that if it were true it would more than likely be a double-edged sword. His mind drifted back to the conversation he'd had with Sam and that one question, "What if there's more?"

Although he knew that was an avenue worth exploring, Dean very much wanted to stay focused on the task at hand, exploring that bridge a little further.

"How long before you're healed completely?" he asked, lifting one of her legs from the water and running the sudsy sponge down its length.

"Trying to cut your stay short?" she asked teasingly.

He stopped what he was doing, her leg still in his hand, and looked at her before answering, "Not at all. I'm just…curious, I guess."

His eyes spoke volumes to her, not only of the sincerity of his words, but the courage he was invoking simply by engaging in this conversation. She felt remorseful for taunting him and was nearly overcome with appreciation. What was she thinking? The Winchester brothers may not know it, but they were famous among the supernatural kind – whether you were on their radar or not. She was by birth, although not by nature, the very thing they had spent their life hunting and exterminating. And even though they'd spent a lifetime chasing and killing them, they'd probably never had an encounter quite like this one…one that would allow them first hand information if they just had the gumption to ask. One that allowed them to explore without fear of harm or even death. She had gotten so caught up in enjoying their closeness that she had let herself forget they were different, not only from her, but from others of their kind.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to…it's not an exact science. Depending on the extent of the injury, it could be a few days if I keep using these or as long as a few weeks if I'm not diligent with treatment."

He smiled at her and continued the task at hand. When he finished, he picked up the towel and opened it. She rinsed herself one last time, then slowly stood and wiped the water from her skin with her hands after releasing the plug from the drain. She stepped out of the large tub and Dean began gently drying her. She closed her eyes and smiled, enjoying every second of his attention to detail as the thirsty towel drank the water from her body.

Once she was dry, she opened the first aid kit and brought out a small vial. She opened it and applied the thick salve it held liberally to the wound. Taking out a large gauze pad and tape, she closed the kit. Dean took these from her and after securing the pad in place with the tape, returned it to the kit and the kit to the cabinet.

She reached up and pulled the hair tie from her hair, letting it fall. She opened the top drawer of the vanity, removed a large comb and began running it through her long wet locks. Dean stood, watching and feeling helpless to offer assistance. Despite the urge he had to take the comb from her and continue the job, not knowing how to proceed was the only thing that stopped him. So he continued to watch, remembering that they would be with her for the next seven days and taking note of every movement so that he'd be able to act on the urge the next time it struck him.

Still naked, she stepped into her bedroom with Dean following closely behind. She opened the bottom drawer of her dresser and took out a small folded stack of white clothing. Dean took them from her as she closed the drawer, then took her hand and led her to the bed. Standing beside the tall berth, he placed the stack of clothing on the mattress and picked up the first piece which, when he unfolded it, turned out to be a thin sleeveless shirt made of eyeleted cotton. He laid it aside and picked up the other piece of material and held it up at the waist – a pair of shorts made of the same material. As he debated on which should come first and remembering her torturous behavior when she dressed him, she took the shorts from him and laid them on top of the shirt. Taking him by the hand, she began moving backward on the bed, pulling his hand and urging him to join her...not that he required very much coaxing.

As soon as Dean realized what she was doing, he pulled back. Noticing her confusion, he smiled before turning and closing her bedroom door. On his walk back toward the bed, he began stripping off his clothes. By the time he reached the small set of steps, he too was naked. He climbed up next to her and as he pulled her close, she nuzzled her face into his neck. She breathed in his smells and did her best to memorize the smoothness of his skin against her own.

His hands slowly and lightly followed her curves, much in the same way they did as he bathed her. Starting at the nape of her neck, down her shoulder to her arm and down to her fingertips, up her side, to her breast where, when his fingers brushed across the skin, he heard and felt her breath quicken. He pulled his face back and looked into her eyes as he continued to her other breast, watching her eyes close as her breath caught in her throat.

She felt the warmth and wetness of his mouth against her neck as he kissed, licked and gently bit it. She felt the heat of his breath as it caressed her when his mouth slid from her neck to her ear where he licked and nibbled – all the while still fondling her breasts. As his mouth made its way to hers, his hand slid to her stomach and hip. When his moist, soft lips met hers, his hand slid between her legs and as she felt his tongue plunge into her mouth, the soft silkiness of it against her own as they danced together, his fingers thrust into her moist center.

He felt her breath against his face as a soft moan escaped her throat. Her wetness engulfed his fingers and after sliding them into her a few times, he used them to find the one spot he knew would make her cry out in pleasure. As he gently circled it, her mouth became more and more hungry, her body following the movements of his fingers. Her hand squeezed his bicep then his forearm, urging him to bring her to release. Her hand, rushing from his arm to his side to his hip, squeezing and pulling him, came to rest on his hard manhood where she continued to squeeze and pull. He felt her chest press against his as she arched her back.

She felt the sound of his enjoyment, rumble in his chest as it was released into her mouth from his. She pulled her tongue from his mouth just long enough to relay her desire.

"I need you inside me...please!" she begged.

His mouth met hers again as he moved in between her legs. He felt her mouth pull away from his as her back arched and she released a sharp cry of pleasure as he sank into her as deeply as he could. He raised his body and looked down at her as he continued plowing into her, watching her hands as they grasped the thick bedding.

Her hands left the bedding and went to her own body. One cupped her breast as the other went to her pleasure center and began circling it as he had done earlier while he continued to bury himself deep inside her. Her back arched as satisfaction threatened to overtake her. As her breathing quickened, she began thrusting her hips to meet his and just moments later they were both in the ecstasy of release.

Collapsing on the bed next to her, Dean wondered if he'd ever been so satiated. Still catching his breath, he leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"Care for a shower," he asked.