Part 35 – Five days later…
(November 24, 2009)

Liz calmly instructed Marty on how to raise his arms and lay them on the bar to steady himself while he took a seat. The truck was nearly done being unloaded but Marty had pulled or pinched or damaged something while pulling the old crates forward to put the new crates in the back. Carefully, Liz examined his back. "Where does it hurt?"

"Over my tailbone." Marty grunted when her fingers touched the screaming vertebrae. "Right there."

"Anyone ever tell you to lift with your legs and not with your back?" She chided and glanced around. "Dean!"

"Yeah?" He looked up from his newspaper.

"Finish up in the back?"

"Pardon?" Dean snorted.

"Marty's hurt. I gotta get the doctor over here from Baxter. Come on." Liz pleaded while absently rubbing her boss's back. "The new people aren't quite intelligent enough to be trusted to do it right."

"And you think I can do it?"

"Well, you're not stupid, Dean. You can follow a simple instruction while I get on the phone."

Dean thought about saying no but Marty was one of the few who still helped Winchesters with no questions asked. "Yeah. I'll do it."

"Thanks, Dean." Liz poured a cold glass of water for Marty and then poured him a shot of the good whiskey. "I'm going to run up and call Dr. Meyer."

"You remember my system, Dean." Marty grunted out as he attempted to slam his shot without moving his back.

"How could I forget." Dean trudged into the back and looked around at the mess the delivery guy had made. As a teenager, his father had made him help out Marty on a stop. His punishment for getting drunk underage while in the vicinity of Marty's bar. He'd never forget all the instructions they had given him while they laughed it up at the bar and Sammy had his nose stuck in a book.

--

Liz almost slapped herself a million times to keep from staring at Dean's back when he lifted crate after crate into their correct positions. She'd had to remember that Marty was in pain. Though the way Dr. Meyer took care of the patient… he wasn't feeling it quite so much anymore. Idly, she wondered how long they had flirted long distance.

Draping his shirt on the back of the stool, Dean dropped his sweaty, tired, body onto it. His undershirt was soaked with sweat and he was pretty sure he'd be attracting flies soon enough. Liz set a bottle of beer and a huge sandwich in front of him. He stared at it for the longest time before clasping his hands together and leaning over it. "What is this?"

She shrugged at him, smile tugging at her lips. "A sandwich."

"Not the food. This." He lifted a hand to circle the beer, sandwich and the 'something' between them.

"I don't know." Liz shook her head.

He was tempted to let it go at that but he'd had a couple of sleepless nights thinking about their last interlude. He couldn't bring it up because she had run off on him in the field and he had run off on her in the cottage. He took a swig of beer for courage. "I come in here. We flirt. You get me drunk. You bring me food. We have a good time and then we have these intensely awkward goodnights. Are we friends?"

"I suppose so."

"Are we just friends?" Had he really just asked the question? He should just go out and have a sex-change.

"I hesitate to answer that question on the basis that I hate to be a liar." She lightly brushed her fingers against his when she slid a coaster under his bottle. "What if I say no and we are just friends… or if I say yes and we… become more."

"Well, that is a dilemma." It really was. There were all sorts of reasons to just abandon the talk and go on pretending that there wasn't any sort of attraction going on. Just pretend that none of those kisses had ever taken place and that he didn't desperately want to continue the self-defense lessons just so he'd have an excuse to touch her.

"I don't know how to do this." Her big brown eyes lifted to meet his green eyes. She fiddled with the edge of the coaster, almost ignoring the fact that doing so made her knuckles brush his fingertips loosely draped around his bottle. "My formative dating years were not spent dating."

"Mine were." He smirked at her; flexed his fingers just a bit to brush against her hand.

She gave him a glare and a crooked smile. "Screwing is not dating."

"Is that what we're going for?" Quickly, he backtracked. There was no use defending that question and the way it sounded. "Clearly, we are not casual as you're friends with my brother and half the demon hunting community would hunt me down if I broke your heart."

"Maybe we just shouldn't do anything… that, you know… we might regret." Liz breathed out and stilled her hands. "It might be too messy to even really contemplate actually doing."

"You want to live with a bunch of what ifs?" He already did. He hated that part of his mind and he figured she did, too.

Dr. Meyer shut the door to the stairwell behind her. "He'll be fine. He didn't herniate it completely. He does need to take it easy for a while though. He is such a stubborn man. He thinks he's working tomorrow."

"He won't. I promise. And I'll make sure he gets enough turkey the day after to keep him knocked out until next week." Liz glanced up at the ceiling, where he was sure that Marty was getting ready to work but it was just a show. He had hurt himself pretty badly. He was just waiting for Dr. Meyer to leave.

"That's a good girl. I'll stop in and check on him later but I have to get back to my clinic tonight."

"Maybe you should stop in at my place first… and bring Marty his Thanksgiving dinner for me. I could make you a plate too… so he doesn't have to eat alone up there." Liz knew she wasn't being subtle but Dr. Meyer didn't seem to be offended.

"I'll think about it." She nodded and headed for the door with her head held high and a secretive smile.

Liz stood awkwardly for a moment before slipping her hand off the bar. "I need to start bussing tables and call in one of the rug rats."

She was gone to use the phone before Dean could stop her. He picked at his sandwich but he wasn't really hungry and drinking held no appeal to him. It hadn't in a long time… but it gave him an excuse to be in the bar where he could stare at her.

Two days later… Thanksgiving Day
(November 26, 2009)

Liz sat on the bar so she could see the tables and the oven at the same time. She was also avoiding going home where she'd eventually have to see someone from Bobby's. By using the bar kitchen to prepare a Thanksgiving dinner for all those she cared about AND the barroom Thanksgiving Transients, she could avoid them altogether and just send someone over with plates when the turkey was done. The downside to that was she couldn't do it alone and she had never really spent any time with Betty Lou without Kyle before.

"I don't know why you dumped him but thank you." Betty Lou popped up onto the bar with Liz. "He's just… so great."

"Well, I had met my future husband so… dumping Stan felt like the right thing to do."

"It's okay. I know his real name is Kyle… Valen… something."

"Valenti. But… we don't say our real names in public. That's the reason we use the pseudonyms."

"Neat. Pseudonyms… sounds like pseudo-names."

"That's… kind of what it means." Liz nodded and thought about checking the turkey again but she had just done that. "Nym means name. Pseudo means false. Based in Latin. False name, pseudonym."

"Wow. You are smart. Stan always tells me how smart you are. You've got to be. Marty trusts you in his bar without him. I've lived in this town all my life and Marty won't even let me in here unless I'm with Stan."

"He's just looking out for you. Pretty rough crowd wanders in here." Liz shrugged and glanced up at the stairs. "I started working here with my husband so I was pretty safe. I carved out my own reputation because I'm a pool shark and a card sharp."

"So, you hustle? That's what they call it, right?"

Nodding haltingly, Liz considered the appeal of the blonde for Kyle. She loved her best friend to death but currently she despised his taste in women. "Only a handful of customers."

"Wow… How did you learn to do that?"

Conversation was bad. Conversation opened the door to understanding and so Liz forged ahead. "Not intentionally. I had a babysitter with two part-time jobs. She used to let me hang out and play miniature-golf and pool for free if it wasn't too busy. The cards, I learned from my father during his poker night."

"Holy cow… you've lived an exciting life."

"Actually, I learned all that before my life became exciting."

"And when did that happen?" That's when Liz realized that Betty Lou wasn't intentionally annoying her. She wasn't vapid. She was curious about the man who was currently sharing quarters in her home. She was getting to know her boyfriend's best friend, just the way Liz was getting to know her.

"When I really saw my husband for the first time and realized how much more there was to him. That's when my life became really interesting."

"You must miss him."

"I do." Liz nodded and realized she didn't feel like crying. Not a bit. She missed Max. She wanted nothing more than to have him back but she had accepted the loss at some point. A round of timers began going off, so the ladies raced into the kitchen to pull various sides and pies from the ovens. When Dr. Meyer showed up, she helped them serve up a couple of rows of plates and carved the bird when it came out of the oven. Everyone took two plates out to the bar, Liz made a second trip. By then, the stragglers of the group (i.e. the guys) had wandered in for the meal when they realized Liz's cottage was vacant of both her and of good-smelling food. Liz took Betty Lou and Kyle's hand and they all bowed their heads. "Let us give thanks for everyday on this Earth. For the friends and family that we celebrate with and those who are far away." Liz had to swallow a lump when Kyle squeezed her hand. "Even though we are not all eating in one room, we will be sharing life and laughter."

They broke apart and took seats. Dr. Meyer grabbed two plates and pointed up the stairs. Bobby, Kyle and Betty Lou sat at the bar to eat their dinner while the men discussed some business. Liz helped Sam hobble over to a booth and set his plate in front of him. He stared at it long and hard. "Thanks. I haven't had one of these since college."

"I haven't had one ever…" Dean nodded to his plate. "Unless the box form counts."

"It doesn't." Sam shook his head. As he dug into his plate, he stared at his brother. "Mom didn't do Thanksgiving?"

"The last one I had with her, I was three. I don't really remember." Dean tentatively tasted a little of everything on the plate.

"I didn't poison it." Liz scoffed at him and helped herself to her own plate.

"Forgive my brother. He's never had a home cooked Thanksgiving and he's confused." He took a huge bite of stuffing. "Good job. I salute the cook."

"Thank you. I've been working hard for two days." Liz relaxed and began to eat, though Dean's eyes on her did nothing to relax her further.

"Are you wearing a dress?" Dean managed to shift his eyes to her face and cleared his throat.

"Yes. I wear a dress to Thanksgiving. Part of my upbringing." He was so annoying!

"And now he's picturing you without it." Sam kicked his brother under the table.

"Ow." Dean jerked away, only to rap his knee on underside of the table. "Shit."

Liz avoided looking directly at him and tried to eat and chat with Sam. Her mind was not going to wander back to times in the last week where there were lips and hands in places that felt so good. She had to keep her mind off Dean and get through the day without finding herself alone with him. "Dr. Meyer is upstairs with Marty, when she comes down, she could look at your leg."

"Yes." Sam groaned a satisfied noise. "Maybe she'll cut it off me. I'm getting seconds."

"I can get them." She protested and started to rise.

"No. I'm getting them." Sam waved her off and hobbled away.

"Can I look at your leg?" Dean set his fork down with a smirk.

"You can look at my fist." She smiled sweetly at him.

"I don't warrant eye contact?"

"I don't know.""Well, let me rephrase my earlier comments since my meaning was lost in transmission." Dean cleared this throat. "You look very nice in a dress. You cook very well."

"Thank you, Dean." That felt nice. To be complimented by someone other than her boss, landlord or best friend. "You clean up very nice, too."

"I've been thinking about that last conversation we had."

He had to go there and ruin all hopes of an uncomplicated day. "Oh?"

"I can't expect any sort of anything from you until I show you something."

Grasping for anything that would alleviate the tension in her body, she opted for humor. "Is this gonna get dirty?"

"Funny gal." Dean shook his head but took a breath to say what he needed to say. "I've never had a tether before."

It didn't take her long to figure out what he was trying to say. Dean was a complicated guy but his metaphors were fairly simple. She straightened in her seat. "Is that what I am? A tether?"

"I keep coming back here to see you." He met her eyes. "I make stupid excuses and Bobby charges an arm and a leg for parts… so in the end… It's because of you."

"You're making your brother keep his cast on an extra month because you wanted to stick him in Bobby's extra room so you could see me?"

"When you put it that way…" A smirk crossed his face as he glanced back where he could see Sam wobbling around on his encased leg. "Well, that's just a bonus and kind of funny."

She watched his face carefully. The wavering smile, the flicker of his eyes. "You're really worried about Sam."

"Who's worried about me?" Sam dropped back into his seat with a healthy pile of food.

"Me." Liz blurted out. "Pace yourself."

"Can't. Stan and Bobby are a plate ahead of me, already." Sam picked up his fork, ready to put a dent in his second heaping plate.

"Help yourself, Dean." Liz jerked her head to the side. "I'm gonna go pack up some stuff for Dr. Meyer to take with her." She dragged herself away from the table to where Kyle was beating out a rhythm on the bar. Bobby had already taken himself and some dessert home. Betty Lou was listening with rapt attention as Kyle rambled on about something he'd heard down at the garage. "What are you talking about?"

"Some guys and some gals are heading out into the fields for a booze-out tonight. Wanna come?"

"I'll think about it." That brought back all sorts of noxious memories from high school.

"You'll want to change before you go out there." Betty Lou warned. She flicked her eyes at her boyfriend then back to Liz. "And make sure you've got some kind of escort cause it can get rowdy and people get separated."

"She can stick with us." Kyle promised.

"I just said I'll think about it. I don't know if I'll go."

Kyle cleared his throat before imparting a warning he wanted her to take seriously. "Uncomplicated things don't complicate themselves if they stay at home when there's a party."

Later that night…

Dean looked around. "I don't see a booze-out. You begged me to escort you out here and then you made Sam make me and now we're in the middle of nowhere with no booze. It's highly annoying."

"You're right. We must have made a wrong turn." Liz stared out around them and shivered. The night had suddenly gone chilly.

"Aren't these things usually marked with a burning bush or something?"

"A bonfire, I guess. I haven't been to one since my early high school days." She frowned. "Which, actually, I used to go to with Stan and I was usually left alone, cold, and hanging with some guy just because he was sober and I could trust him."

"You saying you trust me?"

"About as far as I can throw you but Betty Lou was giving me the impression she'd be dragging Kyle off before it was all over. I don't know all those other people well enough to drink with them but I wanted to have some fun."

"So you hauled my ass out because…"

"Because you're imposing as a figure and I can always say Marty hired you as my bodyguard. Most everyone is afraid of Marty."

"But you know what happens when I drink." He teased.

"Which is why I plan to knock the beer out of your hand fairly often."

"Not to mention smacking me upside the head regularly. You're lucky I don't have a chronic concussion." He was starting to get really, really ticked off at her brushing off his comments. "What if I wanted to get laid at this thing? I couldn't with you hanging off me all night."

"Like I would ever hang all over you." Just as the last word escaped her mouth, her heel caught in a divot and she would have plunged to the ground had Dean not caught her and hauled her back up. Liz clung to him for dear life until she got her feet under her again. "Thanks."

"Okay. Look. We've hiked like… a mile… there's no party. Somebody lied to you."

"Betty Lou wouldn't lie."

"She wouldn't?"

"She's too stupid to lie."

"Do we not like Betty Lou?" Dean laughed and let her get her bearings so they could turn around.

"I like her fine. I'm glad I'm not the one who's sleeping with her. I just expected him to fall for someone brighter."

"Because you're brilliant and you're one of his exes. What are his other exes like?"

"Well… dumber than Betty Lou. I guess she's an improvement over Vicki." She shrugged, then shuddered at the memory of seeing him groping the half-naked blonde in the back of a truck. Some things were just better left to the imagination or not thought about at all. "It's his life and Kyle's mantra is simplicity in all things. No lying. No cheating. Just truth as far as it doesn't sting. Golden rule."

"The Golden rule? As in the one they teach kids in Sunday school."

"That's the one." She laughed. "When we were still in high school, he had… a really traumatic introduction to our insane life. He went to football camp all weirded out. He came home a Buddhist beginner."

"Buddhism. Wow. Fat, bald man. Jolly. Not as cool as Santa though."

"Yeah." She sobered a bit as she recalled Sam's words on Winchester Christmases past. Lightning in the distance lit up the sky like daylight. "I think we turned the wrong way."

"I think you're right." Dean frowned into the darkness as he tried to make out the buildings to ascertain the right way to go. Thunder slammed into them with the sudden chill. "Oh, shit."

Then the skies opened up, drenching them both with a male rain. Dean grabbed her arm and they both ran for the nearest shelter while the rain landed in hard pellets on their skin. How they managed to avoid all the pits and puddles and the dangers of Liz's heels, Dean never knew but the relatively dry shelter would have to do until the rain let up.

Liz brushed her rain-soaked hair out of her face. Dean shook his head free of excess rain like a dog, earning a small laugh from his companion. The sudden torrent had caught them both by surprise and broke up any serious mood that had been descending. Standing in the cool lean-to, she realized she'd been having fun. Fun with Dean Winchester. There was no real reason for standing so close to him but she couldn't make herself take a step backward. She remembered that first kiss in the bar. A subsequent kiss in the weeds… and making out in her kitchen that one time.

Dean shrugged out of his soaked jacket, then immediately felt her body against his. A first time for her to make the first move. Dipping his head, he took her mouth in a dizzying kiss. There was none of the urgency that had fueled earlier kisses. This was pure hunger and passion. Clothes were stripped and tossed to the ground as blankets. His lean, taut body lay flush with her soft curves in the pile of wet clothes. Chill forgotten, they let the moment turn into a fiery culmination that weeks and months of flirting and avoiding had not accomplished.

TBC