Mick played by the rules and washed me for being the last to the shower, not that he complained. I don't even think he tried to beat me. You know, I think he wanted to wash my body. He skipped the small towel and rubbed me down with soapy hands. There wasn't a part of my body he didn't wash. For a moment, I thought he was going to finger my honey pot.
I was a little disappointed, but he did spend some time buttering my ass.
I offered to wash him in return, but he grinned at me and kindly refused. Yet again, a little disappointed, but I teased him by rubbing my ass against his penis. He didn't refuse that.
After about an hour in the shower, playing with soap and grinding each other, we go to our rooms and get dressed, meeting each other in the base room. Mick stands there, smiling at me with his hands in his pockets. As I approach, he slips his hands out of his pockets and reaches a hand out to me. I take his hand and he leads me down a corridor, to the garage probably.
"Where are we going?" I ask and he glances over at me with a slight smile.
"Out for dinner." He replies and I smile at him, feeling like I'm living a dream. I had sex with Mick and then he proposes? That does sound like a dream. What if I'm really not here? What if, in reality, I'm stuck in the mental hospital and this is just another sick twisted nightmare conjured by the seer? I know I thought that earlier, but what if it's true. There's no way a guy like Mick falls knee-deep in love and decides to marry the woman so shortly after a couple of days of knowing her, spending a week trying to find her. It's like I've bewitched him.
It's real. He does love you.
Are you sure?
Yes. You know his life, he never had anything good. He's got a renewed life with someone who loves him. Right now, he only cares about you and how it feels to be loved.
Good point.Thanks Clotho!
"Plus, you said the Men of Letters set up a trap. If the Winchesters do become sealed in the bunker, Ketch will make sure there is no way out. He's thorough. They'll need us on the outside." Mick adds then his jaw sets, as if just thinking of Ketch pisses him off. "And I could kill him." He concludes and I stop, making him glance at me.
And here I thought he was being romantic. I smirk a little, but I know we have to handle Ketch better than that. If he dies, Hess will know something is up. Plus, Ketch is never alone.
"And if you do, Mary might shoot you. She won't kill you, because you can't die, but it'll hurt like Hell. She might tell Hess you're alive and then Hess might get backup. I know you want Ketch dead and so do I, but timing is key." I reply and he gives me this slight put off look. Yeah, you know I made a damn good point.
"Timing? I don't need a grand entrance." He says and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
"Ketch is thorough, you said so yourself. But he has no idea you're undead. I just know this is going to be big. I haven't seen it yet, but I feel it's better your renewed existence be kept a secret from the Men of Letters a little while longer. Please, trust me on this." I reply and he looks away, not keen on hiding while his killer seals the Winchesters into the bunker and walks away. "I'm sorry, but if anything changes the course of Fate for those pricks, like fear of seeing you alive, could fuck things up for the hunters." I add and he meets my eyes, then nodding a couple of seconds later.
"You trust me." He says and I smile softly as he recalls the time I told him that. "So, I trust you." He adds and gives me a slight smile as we walk into the garage, going with the same posh looking car. That would be the one he drove to get me out of the looney bin.
Mick gets the keys and we get into the car, as he starts the engine, I start getting a flash of a vision. It's of Ketch and Mary. Something tells me that if we leave right now, a few minutes after our departure, they get in.
Mick begins backing out of the garage and I glance at the clock, feeling a bit of panic. As long as Mick doesn't stop or slow down, we should be good.
We're out of the garage and Mick puts it into drive, getting away from the bunker. I glance out the window, seeing the sky darkening to pitch black. There aren't any other lights and I don't feel anyone else around. My mind's eye doesn't sense anyone else.
"Celeste?" Mick asks, noticing that I'm staring out the window.
"They'll be here soon." I reply, only now sitting comfortably in my seat. I glance at him and tap his leg. "I think it'll be a couple of hours before the Winchesters return." I add, sort of shivering at the thought that the Men of Letters will be in the bunker, possibly going through my room.
Bastards.
I know I should be way more terrified than I am now, knowing he'll lock the Winchesters up. I know Mick should be more worried too. I don't think he was always the concerning type, but now as an immortal, he sort of seems careless. Well, not that he doesn't care, but trusts that I'll see the outcome and he trusts that things will be fine.
"Are you cold?" Mick asks. Did I shiver that badly that it was noticeable?
"No, just creeped out. I really don't like Ketch. He's cute, but I wouldn't sleep with him." I reply and glance over at him to see this sharp arched eyebrow and this slight clench of his jaw. "What? I just said he's cute. But he's no match for you." I add and he doesn't seem very impressed, but shakes it off and keeps driving. "So much for not being jealous." I add with a slight grin.
"The man is a psychopath." Mick replies, as if to say that justifies his sense of disgust that I labelled jealousy.
"Sociopath." I correct and he gives a little grunt. "The point is, Micky Baby, I love you and hate him." I conclude and he remains silent, until I start rubbing his leg, getting closer to his groin. "You are way more handsome than Ketch. You have beautiful eyes, a great personality and I fucking love everything about you. Ketch is just pretty, but fucking ugly on the inside." I add, rubbing his groin subtly.
"That's a good point." He replies and I let out a small victorious laugh. I pull my hand away and he shifts in the driver's seat, as if trying to shake off the boner I just gave him.
"So, what restaurant? The only restaurant I saw was a bar with burgers." I say and the corner of his lips twitch, as if he's grinning.
"I could use a burger." He replies and I smile as I look out the window, my mind going over the seriousness of what's about to happen. The Winchesters get sealed into the bunker, along with Toni, Amelia and Lindsey I'm sure. The Men of Letters have a brainwashed Mary and there's going to be a battle around the corner, I know it.
And I'm going for a drink and a burger with my fiancé Mick Davies.
I like the sound of that: my fiancé Mick Davies. I'm going to be Celeste Davies.
Oh my gosh… how are we to have a wedding in this madness? Are we even having a wedding? Are we going to talk about it at some point?
Listen to me. People can die and I'm thinking of my wedding.
Horrible…
We might have to elope.
Mick pulls up in front of the restaurant. I actually labelled the place with generosity. This is just a meeting place that offers alcohol and something to eat. There's pool tables, darts and televisions on sport channels.
How romantic.
Mick and I go in, going straight to a booth away from the windows in case Killer Creepy Ketch passes in front. Or God forbid… walks in. Fortunately, I can go instant invisible.
As we sit, some guys at the bar look at us and I can see they're the type that prey on people they deem rich and naive. They think Mick and I are vulnerable and easy pickings.
Losers.
Mick looks through the menu, not noticing the guys at the bar. They whisper to each other, glance a little in our direction and the second one of them moves in our direction, I stare at him, casting the ancient look in my eyes. He stops, meeting my eyes, and backs up to the bar.
I pick up a menu, looking at it. Fast foods is a good way to describe it.
"What do you think?" He asks, not looking up from his menu. I arch an eyebrow and glance back at the men at the bar, looking over at me as their buddy tells them stuff. He's probably scared.
"Artery clogging foods and creepy older guys staring at us." I say and he looks up, a little lost. "Romantic." I add and I look at him, seeing this blank expression.
"Clos Maggiore was booked with reservations for four months." Mick sarcastically replies, as if offended at my clearly snobby remark. I didn't mean for it to be snobby. And, by the way, just what the heck is Clos Maggiore?
"I'm just saying, we are going to need a little romantic trip." I reply, a little hint to a wedding, perhaps. Mick's lips reveal a small smile, maybe an agreement. "A nice hotel suite at Las Vegas or a cozy room on a cruise ship." I add, feeling horrible about myself as I act like we don't have Men of Letters with an extermination plan. Not to forget Lucifer and his Nephilim kid.
At that moment, a mild aged woman with too much makeup comes to get our order. Mick orders a cheeseburger and I decide to go with the same. Fuck, I'll have Scotch too, although I don't know which one of us is going to drive.
Does it matter?
Mick puts our menus away and just stares at me, so I make myself as cute as I can be, which is my fists under my chin, this charming smile and batting my eyelashes. It makes him smile.
"I'm glad to see your confidence is back." He says and I place my hands on the table, open so he can place his hands in mine. And he does. We hold hands, staring at each other.
"I'm glad you asked me to marry you." I say and as we enjoy each other's company, I feel this flash of a vision. Amelia and Lindsey come around to a car as Sam and Dean have their guns pointed at Toni Bevelle. Just as the Men of Letters set up the trap in the bunker.
Oh joy.
