Chapter 37
AN:
Sorry for the long hiatus, people. But i've been busy making videos on Youtube and kinda got sidetracked. Promise to try and keep the time between updates to a minimum! ;)
"Dude! It's a freaking mumu!" He reminded himself for the umpteenth time, letting his head drop with a low thud against the steering wheel of the car.
He shut his eyes tightly but the image he was trying hard to escape lingered behind closed lids so he let out a frustrated sigh and looked up to see her through the dusty windshield. She stood by the side of the road, cigarette in hand, tapping a jittery foot on the asphalt and bracing herself against the blowing wind. The chilly gushs of air rushed past her, causing the clearly excessive amount of fabric she wore to bustle lazily behind her. Her messy hair followed suit.
She was wearing the most unattractive piece of clothing he could find in that stupid store and the sight of her still made him…
"I'm a sick, pathetic-" His self-chastising was brought to a halt by a sharp ring tone.
It was coming from her purse.
He tapped the horn and she jolted, redirecting her attention to the Impala.
"Phone." He said, but she clearly didn't hear him so he fished out the device and waved it at her.
Begrudgingly, she took one last drag of her cigarette and stomping it out of its misery trudged back to the car.
He handed her the cell phone when she took a seat next to him.
He couldn't help glancing at the screen when she checked to see the origin of the incoming call.
His gut wrenched at the flashing letters that spelled Michael's name.
Before answering she gave him a quick sideways glance and Dean hastily averted his gaze. Turning the key in the ignition, the car revved up and they were back on the road.
"Hello?" The awkwardness in her tone was palpable.
He kept his eyes on the stretch of asphalt ahead, but all his senses were sharply attuned to her every movement.
"Hey. Yeah…" Her voice was suddenly lighter as was her demeanor. "I know… But we should be there in about two hours."
He felt her tense up once again when she continued to speak. She cleared her throat ineptly before saying in a low voice.
"Yeah, I'm bringing a friend."
There was a beat and she obviously hesitated before she replied.
"Dean."
His grip tightened around the wheel; his interest peeked, but his curiosity was left unsatisfied when she reduced her speech to hum's and incoherent murmurs.
"Um-huh, yeah…"
She seemed to tire of clumsily dodging whatever topic she was discussing and quickly cut the conversation short with:
"You must be really busy now with the preparations and all… See you in a couple of hours?"
There was another long pause before:
"Ok. See you then. I love you too."
At her last words, it felt as if his throat collapsed; his stomach convulsed powerfully at the overwhelming urge to punch something.
Instead, he gulped hard to push down the acid trickling its way into his mouth.
She was off the phone and silence prevailed in the small cabin.
Uncomfortable, suffocating silence that made her want to scream.
Thankfully, Dean shared the sentiment and mercifully broke the stillness:
"So… You gonna tell me what's so important about Charleston?"
"I told you. I have to go to a wedding."
"O-kay. Can you at least tell me who's getting hitched so I can congratulate the happy couple?" He returned smugly.
After a long sigh, she relented.
"Her name's Nancy. She's Michael's kid sister. I've know her since she was twelve. Their mom died when she was still a baby and it was just her, Michael and their dad. When Michael and I were together, we hung out all the time. I was there for the pimple crisis, the awkward body issues, everything from boys are yucky to maybe not so yucky phase… So… in a way, she's like my sister too."
He dared to throw her a feeling sideways look. There was a veil of nostalgia covering her face, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of her lips, all tell signs of the affection she nurtured for this Nancy.
His breath hitched when she met his gaze. It was a rarity to see that expression on her face. Usually, when she looked at him it was with either arrogance or exasperation, sometimes even rage.
"I can't miss my kid sister's wedding."
It took a few seconds for his mouth to utter a response.
"You won't." He assured her and then he smiled.
A chill crept down her spine and she uncomfortably redirected her gaze back to the road.
There it was again… the stifling stillness. God, why had she given into that brainless, moronic urge? Why couldn't she just keep her legs-
"What about the groom? You know him?"
"Syd? Yeah, I've known him since-"
"You're kidding, right?"
"What?"
She gave him a questioning look and he cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Syd and Nancy?"
She smirked and nodded
"Syd and Nancy?" He repeated. "Really?"
"It was the only reason she agreed to go out with him in the first place." She added.
"I think I'm gonna like this Nancy chick."
"Wow." Was all he could say when he brought the car to a halt in front of the large mansion.
"I know." Amy breathed.
Her stomach tightened; the sight of the household flooding her mind with ancient memories. It felt as if they belonged to another version of herself, another existence. Hell, her entire life up to the night Dean had been brought to her doorstep seemed like a different reality; a very distant and oddly unfamiliar reality. Looking back, that moment had been a turning point, and though the time spent in the company of the Winchester brothers encompassed a mere few weeks, it spanned out and its weight on her psyche easily matched that of her former, now foreign existence.
"Michael's loaded, huh?"
"Yep." She popped the 'p', opening the side door and was already out of hearing range when Dean mumbled:
"Great."
Amy's ex was a tall, dark, disgustingly rich… doctor.
He stepped out of the car.
"Just great..."
"What?"
"Nothing." He replied dismissively.
Amy frowned and was about to inquire further when she abruptly found herself seized by two scrawny arms and her face was suddenly covered by a mass of blonde hair.
Dean watched as Amy struggled to keep her balance while the young woman squeezed the air out of her.
"Oh, my God! You made it!"
Amy's complexion was already a few hues past the healthy shade of pink when the girl finally let up.
"I think I cracked a rib or something." Amy feigned vexation with little success as a smile took over at the sight of Nancy. "I told you I wouldn't miss this for the world."
"Yeah, well, it took you long enough." Nancy scolded. "I thought you were going to miss my bachelorette party."
"It wouldn't be worth having one without wildcat Amy."
The newcomers' attention was drawn by the approaching brunette's comment.
Dean eyed the woman. She was definitely a looker. His brain was working overtime, split between checking out the leather pants wearing hot chick or figuring out exactly what she meant by 'wildcat'.
"Don't start, Leila." Amy rolled her eyes at the dark haired woman before giving her a warm hug.
When Leila pulled away she couldn't help taking a jab at Amy's latest fashion statement:
"Damn, girl. What the hell is that? Is that a mumu?!"
After issuing a steely glare Dean's way she responded:
"It's a long story. The cliff note's version – my bag was stolen, I got stuck with this."
"That's just nasty." The blonde threw in her two cents.
"Thanks for the style newscast, Nancy."
Leila's eyes fell on the stranger standing a few feet away from them.
"And that's just…" She allowed a dramatic pause to filter by as she straightened to her full height and inhaled sharply before she bluntly leered at the man and purred: "…yummy."
The over the top reaction was met by a disgusted huff and a sly smirk; the first one from Amy, the second coming from a chest-inflated, smirk sporting Dean as he closed the distance between himself and the three women.
"Dean this is Leila and Nancy."
"Hi." Nancy greeted politely.
Leila, on the other hand, instantly zeroed in on Amy with widened eyes as she muttered in a low voice:
"Dean?! The Dean?"
Amy froze.
'Please tell me he didn't just hear that. Please, please, please.' She begged silently while simultaneously glaring murderously up at Leila.
The brunette seemed oblivious to the death stares; she was too busy reappraising the man in front of her.
Dean's brow furrowed.
"What did you mean?"
'He heard!'
The tone in his voice left little room for doubt.
'Thanks, Leila.'
"Nothing. Let's go. I gotta get out of this thing before someone else sees me wearing it." Amy hurriedly cut the conversation short by gruffly shoving a gawking Leila up the lawn and into the house.
He finished settling into his bedroom about an hour before and now boredom began to rear its ugly head, so he decided to pay Amy a little visit in the quarters she shared with Leila.
"Tell me, does everyone here look like they've just stepped out of an Abercrombie & Finch catalogue?" Dean wondered as he ambled unannounced into her room.
He froze when he looked up and saw Amy.
She jolted and after a second of looking like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, scurried into the bathroom slamming it shut.
She hadn't been fast enough and he'd gotten a pretty good look at her clad in a black lace bustier complete with straps and thigh-high stockings.
"What the hell?! Don't you know how to knock?" She bellowed angrily behind the closed door.
She leaned on the cold surface, trying to catch her breath. When there was no reply she began rambling out excuses:
"It's not mine, you know?"
Nothing.
"It's Leila's. I didn't have time to go shopping if I wanted to make it to the bachelorette party."
Still no reply. Was he still in her room?
On the other side of the door Dean was struggling to get his racing pulse under control and even out his breathing.
"Winchester!"
Her bark snapped him out of his reverie.
"Yeah?"
The bathroom door creaked open and her head popped out.
"It's not mine." She repeated ineptly.
"I figured as much. You're more of Granny's extra-large undies kind of girl, right?" He mocked.
"Ha! You're a comedian. How refreshing!" She retorted sarcastically. "Now, if you don't mind… Get out!" She bit out.
"'Kay. I'll wait for you in the car."
He was about to leave when she questioned:
"Come again?"
He turned to face her. She was still cowering behind the wooden structure.
He'd always thought Superman's coolest trick was flying. That precise moment completely rearranged the order of preference he'd so painstakingly established during his childhood and early teens.
Screw flying. X-ray vision was now definitely number one.
"Why would you be waiting- Hold on, you're not thinking of coming to the party with us, are you?"
He shrugged, failing to see the problem with that arrangement.
"It's a bachelorette party!"
"So?"
"So, I think you've got a few too many…" She pointedly glanced at his crotch when she added: "… dangling appendages to quality for the guest list."
"Well, too bad, Carrington, cause me and… my dangling appendages are coming." He stated matter-of-factly before turning on his heels to leave.
"Winchester! You can't go… Winchester!" She was so caught up in her scolding she forgot why she was shrinking behind the bathroom door in the first place.
"Careful there, Carrington. Don't want your dangling appendages to make an unscheduled appearance."
She immediately retreated and he chuckle.
"You're not coming." She warned him.
"I'll see you downstairs." He frivolously threw over his shoulder leaving a fuming Amy behind.