She was awake before the day break; startled into consciousness by a sound. Not the peaceful lull of cicadas that often roused her into sentience in the midst of a warm, dream-filled Summer or the tinkering of pots as her mama prepared tea downstairs in the kitchen. No, this sound was more sudden, sharp and yet lingering, like the trigger of a loaded gun as it's clicked, carefully, into place. No. Not a gun. She considered the sound for a moment longer, allowed the huntress within her to recognize the familiarity of it, make sense of it; the way that it felt so intimate and yet so equally out of place, emanating from within the four walls of her bedroom. It reminded her of graves. It reminded her of salt. It reminded her of ash and rot and flames. Flames. A lighter.
Tandy rolled onto her back and stared up at the blank ceiling for several suspenseful seconds, blinking. Her skin prickled, damp with sweat, despite the fact that it was almost snowing outside. She held her breath, tense. There was a presence there, nestled alongside of her, within the sanctuary of her own private space, and not just any presence either. The tart smell of rum reached her nostrils a nick before the earthy stench of cigar smoke and she almost gagged on it. Slowly, her eyes slid towards the corner of her room where Baron Samedi, perched in her Hammock chair with one crooked leg crossed lazily over the other smiled liplessly at her from behind a newly lit cigar. He snapped his lighter closed and drew in a deep, satiating breath. Still smiling, he exhaled, columns of smoke escaping his snake-like nostrils.
"So," He drawled. "About last night ..."
The Previous Evening
Tandy was laughing; deep-bellied and soundless, almost to the point where she couldn't even catch her breath. She shouldn't have been. Laughing, that was. She shouldn't have been, well, anything. At least, not with him. It was red-flag, nearing red zone, fifty shades of red, red, bad, red but damnit, Dean was funny and it wasn't as though she was breaking any rules. It wasn't as though she had made it painfully obvious to anyone other than herself that she hadn't, in fact, lost her memory of him after all. This was Samedi's own fault, really; the flaw in his perfectly meticulous plan. Just because she wasn't supposed to remember them, didn't mean that she couldn't fall victim to Dean Winchester's charms all over again. Conventionally, he wasn't her type, she'd admitted as much before, but he was attractive, undeniably so, and who was to say that her tastes hadn't changed? They had before. He was living proof of that. If she thought about it, long and hard, Samedi should have seen this one coming. After all, after everything she'd been through, after everything they'd all been through, didn't she deserve it? Didn't he? She was growing weary of their conundrum; tired of the lies, bone-tired of the charade. She should have been able to just take what she wanted. She should have been able to take this beautiful, green-eyed hunter into her arms and kiss him like there was no tomorrow.
She sighed softly. If she did that though, then there really would be no tomorrow. Not for her and heck, maybe not for him either. Tandy wouldn't - couldn't be so selfish. She'd already taken so much from Dean, she didn't think it would be fair to take a little more, even though she was beginning to grow quite certain that he'd give her everything he had. Even more. It was clear to her, in that very moment, that their days of school-girl-school-boy crushing were well and truly behind them. Who knew what they could have been if she'd never gone with Samedi, if she'd just stayed damn put, like she should have. The thought haunted her, plagued her, really, like an illness she couldn't quite overcome. She wanted him so damn bad, she could barely stand it. Why did indifference come so easily to her? Why did people fall for it so quickly, without question? Why did he fall for it, when all she really wanted to do was jump him into the next universe? Did it not show on her face, in her lingering stare, or in the way her plump bottom lip was so swollen from being caught between her teeth that she thought it might pop?
"Okay, so I know this is a little left-field." Dean chuckled, reaching up to wipe a gleeful tear from the corner of his eye, oblivious to the way that Tandy had grown relatively humorless in the past few seconds. "But how would you feel about possibly not going on tomorrow's mission?"
"Tomorrow?" Tandy asked softly, finally able to catch herself in the midst of Dean's welcome topic change. "Didn't even know there was a mission."
"Oh." Dean muttered, turning uncomfortably sober himself. "You didn't?" Shit. He hoped he hadn't put his foot in it. Again.
"Y'know it's Christmas Eve, right?" She asked coolly, leaning back as the high she had just experienced quickly dissolved. Gently, she smoothed the flat side of her palm over her abdominal muscles, which still ached blissfully in the aftermath of their giggle session and exhaled slowly.
"Well, as they say, no rest for the wicked." Dean responded, mirroring her expression.
Tandy nodded, thoughtful, and it was only then that Dean noticed that she had grown increasingly pensive. "I uh, I didn't realize you celebrated." He grunted, reaching for Sam's horrendous beer but taking a sip from it anyway.
"I don't." Tandy breathed, staring down at her trouser-clad thighs, stretched out before her. "But lately, I guess, I don't know, it feels kinda like a sin if I don't."
"Because of the angels?" Dean guessed, and there was a tightness in his voice that Tandy wasn't entirely certain she imagined. "Because of Castiel?"
Tandy shrugged. She certainly had grown fond of Castiel. He was admirable, faithful, considerate. He had definitely proven himself as a worthy ally more recently and, perhaps even, a friend. Dean certainly seemed to think so, but it wasn't so much Castiel that she had been thinking of in that moment. No. She'd been thinking of another angel, if he even was an angel, and thinking of Jason (or whatever the heck his name was) while speaking to Dean felt like a betrayal. Not that it really was, or anything. Maybe only very slightly. Whatever. It still felt that way.
Tandy bent her neck to meet Dean's gaze, quickly brushing the image of dark hair and even darker eyes from her mind. "Yeah and no. Would it bother you if I wanted to start?" She asked, uncertain as to why she felt the need to seek his permission.
Dean shook his head slowly. "Sammy and I have always tried to, y'know, with the presents and stuff, in the past." He admitted. "If there was ever a time to celebrate, we figured, hell, Christmas would be it."
Tandy pressed her lips together, saddened by his revelation. She wondered just how many miserable birthdays Dean and Sam had had to endure growing up and the thought alone almost brought a sudden well of tears to her eyes. To stop herself from showing any emotion, she asked, very quietly "What's the mission any way?"
When Dean's look turned sheepish, Tandy noticed. She wasn't an idiot and she sure as shit wasn't deaf. She knew what the hybrids whispered, what they wanted, how they longed for her. The walls could be thin, sometimes too thin. Scouting their territory could spell trouble, particularly for her, so she wasn't exactly mad that no one had clued her in about the mission, or that Dean had wanted her to sit this one out. It was perfectly rational, even if it did mean that she was still, evidently, on the outs.
"Maybe I could convince your mama that it would be good if you could join us? Sam and I, at least. I mean, we could certainly use you." Dean suggested, draining his brothers beer with an ill-concealed shudder. "You don't remember, but we kicked ass together on that last case and we've kicked ass together before, too."
"Also had our asses kicked in turn, so I've been told." Tandy offered and she bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling.
Dean, however, did smile. "Well, you're not wrong there, but here we are, still living and breathing."
"Here we are." Tandy echoed, then her gaze became curious. "But here I thought the stoic hunter was against my bein' bait?" She asked.
"You wouldn't be bait." Dean responded, a little too quickly, almost as though it were rehearsed. "You'd be with me and Sam. You'd be in the safest hands you've ever been."
Tandy thought about just what being in said hands would be like and had to control the sudden rise of blood vessels she felt bubbling to the surface of her cheeks. "Oh, s'at so?" She laughed, instead turning his response into a challenge, and when Dean's enthusiastic "Hell yeah!" shrilled throughout her eardrums, she almost found herself agreeing with him wholeheartedly but then, as it tended to do, reality hit her, like a seven foot Wendigo and she exhaled slowly, running her fingers through her hair.
"It's funny, y'know, I've been askin', hell, practically beggin' to be a part of this fight since I got back here and now, well, call me insane, but I think I'm gonna have to give it a hard pass." She confessed.
"Wait, seriously?" Dean asked, his eyes narrowing into two evergreen slits.
Tandy held up her hands and leant forward. "Don't get me wrong, I mean, I still want to see these sons of bitches in action. See if they live up to the mess that they leave behind. I think, just, not yet."
Dean released a low whistle. "Well, wow, I'll be damned, look who's wisened up." He huffed, undeniably impressed, if not slightly surprised by her completely unexpected confession.
Tandy shrugged. "Bein' in that Hellish Hell world has changed me. In more ways than one."
"Yeah ... it has." Was all Dean could manage in response. He looked almost pained to admit it.
By instinct, Tandy reached over and patted his shoulder, immediately wishing that she hadn't.
Dean went still. She felt his bicep flex beneath her fingers, could see the reflexive twitch in his lower jaw that she'd always found so damn attractive and the way his eyes grew darker, like the mouth of two tunnels into some faraway forrest. "How don't you remember me? How don't you remember us?" He breathed, glancing down at her hand, still planted firmly on his shoulder. Slowly, his gaze trailed up the length of her forearm and when it at last reached her eyes, Tandy had to pinch herself. Hard.
"Don't you worry, sweetheart, you'll never have to go back there, never again. I won't let it come to that." Dean promised, ghosting over his moment of vulnerability as though he could imagine that it had never happened. Only, it had happened, and damn it if Tandy couldn't help herself from lending him even the slightest glimpse of her gratitude.
"Dean Winchester, my hero." She whispered, grasping for playful once more, but something in the way that Dean's eyes hardened, the way his demeanor shifted, had her feeling as though she'd just breached crimson and had plummeted, mind, body and soul, into the black zone. And there was no coming back from the black zone.
Welp, I'm a goner.
A feeling of de ja vu engulfed Dean and a pang of longing shot through his stomach like a bullet. He reached forward, without warning and gripped Tandy tightly by her outer arms, trapping her. In the next sudden movement, faster than lightening, he pulled her against him, so ferociously that he barely noticed the small squeal of surprise that passed through her lips before he slammed his mouth against hers and kissed her deeply, his whole body flush against hers, covering every inch of her, claiming her, consuming her. Chest to chest, lips to lips, navel to navel. Only the whispering breadth of their cotton-to-cotton clad torso's separated their heated skin and Tandy could feel just how hot Dean actually was.
She gasped and attempted to force him back, but not without fighting the immense urge to further his exploration of her body, to allow him to push the soft cushions of the lounge chair onto the floor, roll her gently down on top of them and have his way with her on her mama's sunroom floor.
God, how could she have been so naïve? How could she have been so reckless? So stupid? She'd toyed with fate and now, forfeiting to desire, she was going to be her own doing.
Tandy reached for Dean's shoulders, ready to pull him in all the more closer and melt into him completely when sense barreled into her.
No! She couldn't be. She couldn't do that. Do this. She had to win, damn it! She had to beat Samedi at his own sick little game so that she could have this. This, what she'd wanted for so damn long, what she had promised herself was hers to have.
Fearful that if she didn't disengage at that very moment, she'd lose herself completely forever, Tandy sprang from Dean's clutches like a Jack-In-The-Box. Not wanting to, but unable to help herself, she peered back at him. Possibly the most stupid thing she could have done in that moment. Well, second most stupid thing. The first would have been the obvious.
Dean's look of desperation and anguish as she darted towards the door, mumbling a strangled "M'sorry" beneath her breath had almost broken her, but Jesus, her mind was already whirling with dread, whirling with thoughts of what would come next. What would inevitably, undoubtedly, unavoidably come next. Would Samedi swoop down upon her, smoke'a'blazing, or would he bide his time, allow her to revel in the delightful moment that she'd just shared with Dean before stealing her away into the loneliness once more?
Whatever happened next, she knew she was in trouble. She cursed and tripped over her own feet, down the corridor and towards the rear-end of the house, not entirely sure of where she was going, but knowing that anywhere would be safer than there. There with Dean.
She rolled her eyes and smacked her palm against her forehead. Silly, stupid, idiot! She should have chosen the freakin' hybrids, it would have been the more practical choice and the irony in that thought alone was not lost on her.
"Tandy, wait, I -" Dean stammered, reaching for her retreating form but knowing, already, that it was too late.
He'd pushed her too far this time.
He dropped to his knees and bit his bottom lip. It still tasted like her, like candy on his tongue and he pounded his fist against the floor.
Then he pounded it again.
And again.
After the fourth time, it came away bloody and he wiped it against the length of his jeans.
He had kissed her. What an idiot! But there was no denying it, either, for a brief moment, she'd kissed him back. For a brief moment, she'd showed him her hand and what he had caught the barest of glimpses of was enough, it was all that Dean needed to lurch himself up off of the floor and chase after her.
Instead of taking the stairs to her bedroom, as he had expected, he'd spotted her dip out of the back door and head down the steps, towards the shed.
Relentless in his pursuit, his foot slipped as he skidded after her, out into the frost-bitten back porch, down the snow-slickened path, past the frozen pond.
His heart was pounding deftly against his ribcage and he could barely feel the cold, barely notice that his cheeks had grown flushed and splotchy, encasing his chattering teeth.
She wasn't going to get away from him that easily, not this time, not now. He'd make damn sure of that.
He reached the shed and slowly inched his way inside. Carefully, he slid the thin, tin door back into place, blocking out the worst of the frigid nights air.
Quietly, he crept deeper within, past an assortment of rifles and a tall shelf lined with dark objects. Through a break between the varied items, Dean spied Tandy pacing between a column of oil cans, stacked high, and the length of her faded, orange truck.
Her breath was coming out in sharp, uneven puffs that sounded a whole lot like French cussin' and she had her head placed between her hands, shaking it vigorously from side to side.
"So, we're not going to talk about this then?" Dean asked, stepping out from behind the shelf.
Tandy froze, wheedled out like rat in a barn, and dropped her hands to her sides, defenseless. She offered him a meek shrug, her eyes wary as she watched him creep closer and he chuckled darkly.
"This is the second time you've ran from me." He breathed, closing in on her like a monster honing in on its pray.
"I really don't think there's anythin' to talk 'bout, Dean." She offered, reaching up to rub the back of her neck.
"I disagree." Dean responded, inching forward.
"What're you gonna do?" Tandy asked, taking a wobbly step backwards.
Dean advanced further still. "Nothing that you don't want me to." He breathed, closing the last couple of feet that separated them in a single stride.
The heat of her body was so welcoming, Dean shuffled closer still. He brought his hand up to her abdomen, scissoring a part a segment of her blouse; rough, calloused fingers hungry for more of that delicious warmth radiating from her smooth, sun-kissed skin.
"I don't want this." Tandy gasped, her back pressed against the cool metal frame of her truck.
Dean ran the tip of his nose along the length of her jaw, stopping to press his lips against her exposed collar bone and she shuddered, half-moaning.
"Dean, I don't want this." She hissed. Involuntarily, she rolled her neck to one side, allowing him access to the delicate flesh beneath her earlobe.
Chuckling, his warm breath bouncing back at him off of her cool skin, Dean licked a stripe from her collar to her ear.
"Dean, I don't - " Tandy tried again, desperately reaching for words the wouldn't come to her lips. "Dean, I - "
Dean's fingers found the top button of her blouse and he popped it open with a single, skillful flick. "Okay then. I'll stop." He teased, making a move to step away from her.
Almost immediately, Tandy growled and gripped the front of his leather jacket, roughly pulling him back into her personal bubble once more.
"Oh, fuck it!" She growled, swinging the lapels of Dean's worn leather jacket open wide open before ripping his sleeves down his shoulders. "Dean Winchester, I want this." She panted. "I want you. I've wanted you for as long as I can damn well remember. I want you so much, I ache just to be near you. I wanna kiss your eyelids when you sleep at night and count the freckles on your nose every mornin'. I want you here, now, on the floor, against the truck, inside the truck. I want you today and tomorrow and forever, and I don't wanna share."
Dean's eyes widened in surprise and Tandy's expression grew sultry. "You understand what I'm sayin', Winchester?" She asked slowly. "Dean Winchester, I want you."
By response, Dean's hands reached the pearl buttons of her blouse once more, before she barely had the chance to finish what she had been wanting to scream at him for months, and he was on her in a flash of primal need; all lips and teeth and tongue.
Tandy gasped and pulled him impossibly closer, inhaling his heady essence. It filled her lungs, intoxicating her and she threw her head back, giving him complete access to explore her, and explore her he did. Three times over. On the floor, against her truck and inside of it. The heat from their bodies keeping them warm as skin slid over skin, fingers fumbling over leather and lace, wet with sweat and desire and the slightest traces of blood from Dean's palm.
It was sloppy and rough, soft and slow. It was years of passion finally released. It was everything and more and when Tandy, at last, collapsed on top of Dean, panting loudly and thoroughly spent, she finally allowed the weight of her reckless decision to crash down upon her. Only this time, she didn't care. She didn't care how heavy it was, or what would come next. Dean was here, he was hers and no blasted Haitian God and his creepy ass cane were ever going to take him away from her.
"So, let me get this straight." Dean began, breathless and Tandy couldn't conceal the groan of despair that escaped her lips. "You never lost your memories after all? You've remembered Sam and I, this whole time?"
Tandy sighed and dropped her damp forehead onto Dean's bare chest. Tiredly, she traced the scars that lined his right pectoral and hummed softly. "Mm-hmm."
She lifted her chin and gazed at him, her blue eyes almost grey beneath the dull, Tungsten lighting. "Are y'angry?" She asked quietly.
Dean ran his fingers through her long, blonde hair, sticky with perspiration and only God knew what else and released a deep chuckle. "I'm not angry, but I certainly wish I'd known a lot sooner, would have saved a heck of a lot of heartache." He admitted, tracing his fingers lower, past her sensitive ribcage, which elicited a few adorable giggles from her, down the perfect curvature of her spine and towards her delicious hips.
Tandy pouted. "I couldn't. I was scared Samedi would come and take me away again. Hell, he still might."
Dean held Tandy closer. "He can try." He murmured, his voice gruff and laced with a level of protectiveness that had her completely turned on all over again.
At the sudden change in her expression, Dean swooped in and captured her lips once more, and this time, no surface inside of the shed was left untouched.
Present
When Samedi had not appeared to claim her the previous evening, Tandy had grown decidedly certain that he wouldn't. She had kissed Dean goodnight, wrapped together beneath the sheets of her four-poster bed and had slept dreamlessly beside him but come morning, she had awoken alone.
Staring at Samedi now though, through bleary eyes, she had allowed the fear to take over once again. Watching the way his wicked grin exposed the sharp hedgerow of teeth that rimmed his lipless mouth, she wished she'd just lied to Dean the previous evening, because her biggest tell hadn't been falling for him all over again, no, her biggest tell had been admitting to it, acting on it. And in doing so, she'd failed them both.
"Well, shit." She breathed and Samedi's grin stretched impossibly wider.
"Shit indeed, my dear child, shit indeed."
A/N: Okey dokey! There we go! Sorry for the delay in updating - again! I always tell myself time'll be on my side this time but I should know better! I hope I did this chapter some good, I'm not much of a 'smut' writer, but I tried to keep it classy, and maybe just a little bit sexy? Let me know your thoughts, as always!
Much love,
Heart