Sioux Falls, South Dakota - 2000
Contrary to popular belief, Elizabeth kind of hates social gatherings. Sure, she likes getting drunk like anyone else, but getting drunk while wearing high heels isn't the best idea. What she's getting at here is that she hopes no one spikes the punch bowl at prom. If that happens and she ends up breaking her ankle trying to dance, she's going to murder Sam for making her go.
She smiles nervously as she comes down the stairs, trying not to trip over the skirt of her dress or the heels she's got on. Bobby's grinning with pride and even John has managed a smile that doesn't look fake, both men holding a disposable camera. She winces when the flashes go off, then glances over to Sam.
"Did they take your picture, too," she asks.
"Nope," he says with something like pride. She's going to put the little shit in a headlock later and see if he can still manage that goofy smile. "I'm in a suit a lot more often than you're in a full-on ballgown." Which is fair, Sam's forced into monkey suits on cases every now and then, but Elizabeth's dresses are normally shorter than this purple monstrosity.
"Well, how do I look?" She holds out her arms and does a little spin, making her uncle's grin widen.
"You look great, Liza," Bobby assures her. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and leads her into the living room where Dean is watching a football game. "Hey, idjit, get up and show the lady here some respect." Dean stands and she takes some pleasure in the way his jaw drops when he catches sight of her.
"Close your mouth or you'll start catching flies," John says jokingly. Dean blushes, but he snaps his mouth closed and gives her his best attempt at a smile.
"You look super uncomfortable in that dress, Liza," he says. "I got an extra change of clothes in the car." If Elizabeth didn't have a little self-control, she'd probably kiss him. Instead of doing that, however, she punches his shoulder and calls him a softie. "I could be an asshole and make you wear that dress all night."
"Stop being a dick and smile, Winchester," Bobby says gruffly. Sam and Dean wedge Elizabeth between them, all three of them beaming for John and Bobby's cameras. After the fifth flash, Elizabeth thinks she'll never get rid of the black dots floating in front of her.
"Okay, that's enough. One more flash is going to blind me." Dean shepherds them out of the house and over to the Impala, leaving the sentimental old men behind them. He opens the door for Elizabeth with a dramatic bow. "My lady."
"You're such a dork," she laughs. He's smiling, too, soft as moonlight and twice as pretty. She'd get lost in the smile if she knew he actually liked her. She slides into the backseat, letting him shut the door after her. Sam sits upfront with Dean, relaxed and confident.
"You really do look great, Liza. Who's your date, anyway?"
"Don't have one." Dean looks at her using the rearview mirror, green eyes showing his curiosity. "Dating in small towns feels too incestuous, dude. I hadn't even planned on going to this stupid thing until Sam told me I didn't have a choice." Dean's gaze swings to his brother and Sam hunches slightly.
"Well, Sam, you got a date?"
"Yep," Sam answers. He's smart enough not to tell Dean who his date is. Christa Caldwell is a forbidden topic and Dean would probably tie Sam to the roof of the car for the rest of the night if he finds out.
"Let me get this straight, you're making Liza go to prom and you're not even goin' as her date?" Sam and Elizabeth share a disgusted look.
"If I went with Sam to prom it would be too awkward and neither of us would enjoy it," she points out matter-of-factly. Dean rolls his eyes, pulling into the student parking lot and turning to face Elizabeth. "If you're going to give some speech about participating I'll punch you in the face." He chuckles, getting out of the car and opening her door for her, holding out his hand expectantly once she's out. "What?"
"I'm gonna be your date tonight." She begins to laugh, appreciating the joke as her shoulders relax and some of the tension leaves her back. With the exception of the past couple of months, Dean and Elizabeth could hardly stand to be around each other for more than an hour. She shuts up a moment later when she realizes that she's the only one laughing. "I'm serious, no one should be dateless on prom night."
"You're not taking no for an answer, are you?"
"Nope." He wiggles his fingers and she gives in with a sigh, letting him lead her into the high school gym. A P!nk song is playing over the speakers and Dean winces at the choice, but he says nothing. She likes to think she's immunized him to pop music. As they walk through the crowded gym, Elizabeth notices some of the girls glaring her way and her back straightens with pride. Dean has held the hottest guy title in Sioux Falls six years running and Elizabeth winks when she catches Christa's eye.
"I think your fans are jealous," she tells him, grinning. Dean looks around the room, missing the way Sam ducks out of sight until his gaze passes. Christa doesn't seem to appreciate the way her date uses the skirts of her dress like a bush.
"Let them be jealous. I've got the only girl that matters right here." He squeezes her hand, smiling softly as she blushes and glances away. "Do you want a drink?" She nods and they make their way over to the punch bowl, smelling heavily of Hawaiian Punch rather than booze. Dean ladles some into two paper cups, then takes a flask out of his jacket pocket. "Want some?"
"Better not in these shoes."
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna let you fall." She pauses and takes a moment to study him under the glow of the multi-colored spotlight, the lines of hard muscle and the soft shine of his eyes. She trusts him, she always has, but this is different. Dean feels different, Prince Charming coming out of the trees.
"On second thought, booze sounds great."
"You sure? It's pretty strong."
"Dean, just pour the damn drink." He laughs, pouring the tequila into her drink before handing it off to her. "Let's go find a table before they're all taken."
"Lead the way." She does, taking his hand again and finding one near the back of the gym, farthest from the dance floor. She doesn't let go of his hand right away after they sit, his ring warm against her fingers as she traces it. It's a thick silver band that had once belonged to his grandfather, one of the few things that had survived the house fire.
"Thanks, by the way." Dean glances over at her, his head cocked slightly to the right as he takes a drink. She can read the question there so easily that it surprises her. For what, those startling eyes ask. "For being my…. For taking me to the prom and the liquid courage." She laughs softly, staring down at where her fingers are still running over the silver band.
"No problem, Liza. I'd rather be your date than have one of these perverts taking advantage of you."
They don't lapse into silence or an argument after that, surprisingly enough. Their fights have actually become somewhat tame compared to the ones they'd had as kids. They talk about anything and everything, gossip about Sam and conspiratorial whispers about the mouse Elizabeth has hidden away in a barn. It's not until an hour has passed that they grow quiet.
"Feel like dancing," Dean asks. Elizabeth thinks for a second, then she downs the remains of her drink and holds out her hand for him. They don't stop at the dance floor, making their way out to the parking lot again. At Elizabeth's curious frown, Dean explains. "I thought we'd dance to some good music unlike those mindless apes in there." Laughing, Elizabeth leans against the trunk and takes off her heels while Dean picks out a tape to listen to. "I think you'll like this one." Dream a Little Dream of Me begins to play and she sways along, Dean joining her a moment later.
"I'm sorry you didn't like the prom." He shrugs, wrapping an arm around her waist. "If I'd known you were coming, I would have suggested a few more rock songs." This song, though, feels perfect for them as they move gently to and fro. There are no spins or groping hands, only a barely there movement that draws Elizabeth slightly closer.
"It's fine," he assures her, resting his forehead against her own. "I was serious when I said you looked great, by the way." His voice is low, warm breath caressing her face the way she wishes he would. "You always do, especially with those dorky glasses of yours."
Slowly, like he's afraid of spooking her, he presses his lips against her own in a kiss she returns enthusiastically. It's exactly how she imagined kissing Dean would be; gentle, warm, safe in the circle of his arms. Her eyes close as she leans into it, running the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip. His mouth opens to let her in, hands tightening on her hips. He groans, pressing her against the Impala with one of his hands tangling in her thick hair.
They pull apart for air reluctantly, Dean trailing kisses down her neck to her bare shoulder. Elizabeth moans, tilting her head to the side to give him better access, feeling her skin start to heat up despite the cold night. She's never done anything like this before and she'd glad Dean's the one that's introducing her to it, she knows he'd never intentionally hurt her. He nips at the spot where her neck and shoulder meet, soothing it with his tongue.
"Dean," she gasps. She can feel him laugh against her neck, kissing and nipping his way up to her ear.
"Did you like that, Liza?" He sucks on her earlobe, the hand on her hip moving to squeeze her ass. "Hmm, you'll love this." He covers her lips with his own again, showing her no mercy and she loves it. She's pulled flush against him, her fingers pulling him closer by his short, blond hair.
"Excuse me," hisses the nasally voice of the art teacher. Her frizzy black hair is sticking up at all angles as she marches over to them, hands on her hips. Dean backs away from Elizabeth, but keeps one of her hands in his. "Dean Winchester, of course it's you."
He shoots Elizabeth a look, nodding subtly at the Impala. Elizabeth gives him a wicked grin to show she understands. They're in the car and hauling ass out of the lot before the teacher can object, leaving with a squeal of tires and the smell of burning rubber. Elizabeth lets out a laugh, tilting her head back and feeling stress-free for the first time in Christ knows how long.
"God, what is it about you that makes me do stupid shit like that," she asks, a large smile still plastered to her face. Dean gives her a smug grin, resting one of his hands on her knee and rubbing it through the silky fabric of her dress.
"I guess I just have that effect on people, sweetheart." He glances over at her again before returning his gaze to the road. "You, uh, wanna see something?" She tilts her head as she observes him, the sudden nervous clenching of his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Why not?
"Cinderella doesn't turn back into a hunter until midnight. Besides, we should be able to have a little fun every now and then without Bobby or John breathing down our necks."
"That's right," Dean agrees, flashing her a devious grin. He brings the car to a stop at the edge of a forest, cutting the ignition and getting out. He rounds the car to open her door, standing in front of her with his hand outstretched. "You comin' or not, Cinderella?" She's back in his embrace in a second, kissing him with more passion than back in the parking lot. God, what is it about this man...?
He pulls away after a moment, grabbing a blanket and flashlight out of the trunk before taking her hand again. They pick their way through the woods, stopping once they reach a small outcrop that overlooks Sioux Falls, surrounded by some of the delicate white flowers that have started to appear outside her bedroom door on the days Dean's in town.
"Wait here a second, Liza." He gets the blanket stretched out across a bed of flowers, smoothing the creases before gesturing for her to join him. He lays her out beneath him, making sure she's comfortable before continuing his teasing. One of his hands starts working on the zipper of Elizabeth's dress, pulling back to make sure she's okay with it. She nods, encouraging him with her hazel eyes.
She wants Dean to be her first, he's experienced and he'll be gentler than anyone else she could have asked. He pulls the bodice of her dress down to her waist, laving kisses across her chest and taking a nipple into his mouth, nipping at it with his teeth. His free hand massages the other breast, making sure sure to give them both equal attention.
"D-dean," she gasps, arching against his mouth. The hand on her breast finds its way up the skirt of her dress and to a place that only she's ever touched, rubbing the sensitive nub at the top and making her writhe against him. "Oh, my God!" He brings his face even with hers, breath ghosting against her face when he whispers.
"No, just me, Liza." She bites back a moan as he starts to suck on her neck, leaving a mark she'll have to hide come morning. One of his fingers circle her opening, his calloused thumb still rubbing circles against her clit. He has her shaking by the time he slides his finger inside, moving it slower than she'd thought possible, too slow and gentle for her to reach any sort of release. He works her a little faster as she wriggles impatiently, the knot in her belly tightening and threatening to snap. Just a little more and….
"Dean!" Her back lifts from the blanket, pushing herself against him as she rides out her climax. He smirks against her chest, feeling proud of what he'd just caused. She's too overwhelmed to remove his smirk, her breaths coming out in short gasps as she tries to compose herself. Her senses are in hyper drive and Dean isn't helping any as he continues to work on her, unrelenting in his sweet torture.
"Elizabeth?" His voice is raspy, low, and filled with the pent-up lust she can see in his green eyes. She nods slowly, standing on shaky feet so that the dress falls completely off, landing in a pool of silk at her feet. His gaze trails from Elizabeth's face to her toes and back up again, lingering on her breasts that he'd just been lavishing with attention. "Are you sure," he asks, standing as well, looking a little uncertain.
"I'm sure, Dean… I've been sure for a while, actually." He reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a condom, the foil wrapper crinkling as he lays it on the blanket and starts to undress. Elizabeth takes a step forward and begins to help him, pulling his shirt over his head and placing light kisses along the newly exposed skin.
He groans as she flicks her tongue over one of his nipples, both of her hands working on his belt buckle as he brings her face up to his in a bruising kiss. Dean's pants and boxers fall to the ground, his hard member standing at attention. He rolls the condom on and lays her down on the blanket, looking at her for conformation as he brings the tip even with her opening. She nods once to let him know she's as ready as she'll ever be.
"This is goin' to hurt a little bit, Liza," he warns.
"I can handle it. Do it fast, like a band-aid." Dean pauses and his laugh is a warm rumble against her chest, green eyes flashing brilliantly in the moonlight. Elizabeth joins him after a moment, nervous giggles bubbling out of her.
"Like a band-aid," he laughs. "Oh, that's good. I'm gonna have to remember that one." She's still laughing when he enters her, the sudden pain sharp and turning her laugh into a muffled cry. Dean winces, pressing an apologetic kiss against her nose. "Sorry."
"I'm fine, keep going." As he moves, the pain transforms into a strange sense of pleasure that waxes and wanes. The pleasure is nice, really nice, but it's odd to have something inside her and the sensation makes her giggle again. Dean doesn't take offense, chuckling softly along with her.
She wraps her legs around his waist so that he can go deeper, ankles locking together at the small of his back. His head falls to her shoulder, biting down slightly as he thrusts harder and faster. One of those thrusts causes him to hit something that makes her let out a hoarse shout, clutching him against her. Her nails leave crescent marks in his shoulders, urging him to go harder, faster, anything to make the tightening sensation reach its peak.
"Liza," he grunts, just as breathless as she is. "I'm close." He reaches down between them to rub that bundle of nerves again, the simple action her undoing. She clenches around him, bringing Dean over the edge with her in a tumble of muffled cries and moans.
"Oh, Dean," she gasps, head thrown back and breasts pressed against his toned chest. They lay there for a long while, catching their breaths and just basking in the warmth they share. A pleasant tingling spreads over Elizabeth's body, her body buzzing with energy like it does after a good workout. Dean leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"We should head back before our carriage turns back into a pumpkin."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
The drive back isn't long, mostly spent with Elizabeth's head on Dean's shoulder as they talk about anything and everything. Things are easier now, the murmurs soothing all her electrified nerves until she's wonderfully sleepy. She rouses herself as Dean puts the car in park, rushing upstairs to her room in order to put her pajamas on. Her hair is long enough to hide the forming bruise Dean's left on her neck, so she shouldn't have to worry about any suspicious questions.
A few minutes later she joins the others in the kitchen for a beer, that strange energy still buzzing inside her.
"So, what did you do tonight, Cinderella," Uncle Bobby asks. All eyes land on Elizabeth, each pair filled with curiosity except for one—that pair is filled with a knowing amusement.
"Oh, you know," she shrugs, smirking over at Dean. "I danced a little and raised some hell. The usual."