Hey guys, here's chapter 12 and there's a little creepy in it, toward the middle, hinthint. And from the way I set it up, there's a lot more creepy to come. But I'm not going to be able to update till, most likely, the first week of August. I'm going on vacation for ten days. But have no fear, I'm bringing enough paper and pens to supply a classroom with me, so I'll be writing and I'll have an update or two when I come home. This note goes for my other two stories which I don't think I'll be able to update by the end of this week. So, keep reading and reviewing.
Chapter 12- Wild, Wicked and Wrong
Lightning bugs popped up and vanished, lighting up the night and going out again like tiny blinking bulbs, grasshoppers sang to one another and the sticky sweet summer breeze blew around the pool, catching Tate's long hair and blowing a piece into Dean's face. The two were still sitting on the lounge chair, Tate drawing tiny designs onto the back of Dean's hands and idly traced a small scar on one of his knuckles. The small white line had caught her attention earlier and now her fingers barely left it, there was something about Dean's scars that memorized her.
"Hey." She heard him mumble into her hair.
"Yeah?"
"What are we doing out here?"
"Absolutely nothing." She mumbled, hoping they'd be able to go back to that almost uncomfortable silence she found herself mildly enjoying. Feeling Dean shift behind her, she pinched his hand and found herself getting roughly tossed to the side of the lounger.
"What the hell was that for?" Tate growled; her eyes glowing as she looked up at Dean who now stood besides the chair stretching. For a moment, as muscles pulled themselves taunt across both the abdomen and chest that she had worshiped as a teenager, she almost forgot why she was angry in the first place but it came smashing back when that devilish smirk graced his lips that would soon be drawn into a pout that she normally found herself starring at.
"If we're going to sit out here and do nothing, I'm going to advantage of the scenery and go swimming." He said as the short sleeved flannel shirt he wore was shrugged off and landed in a puddle near his feet, followed by the skin tight black wife beater he wore, shoes, socks and then well worn slowly fading jeans. If anyone had dared to walk through the fence right now and stand upon the still warm concrete they would've found Tate perched on the end of the lounge chair with her eyes wide as saucers and jaw hanging open slightly. And in that moment, watching Dean dive into the pool, she had realized it had been a very long time since she herself had gone swimming. Moving from the chair, she watched him come to the surface, swim to the side and vault himself back onto the concrete and stand in front of her; all hard muscle, water darkened boxers and dripping wet skin.
"So, do you plan on coming in or what?" Slowly she uncurled herself from the way she was sitting and stalked over to him, her eyes glowing with the same light Dean had seen that night in her Aunt's pool and smiled at her. Long fingers gripped his shoulders, her body close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin and she leaned in to nip at his jaw. As he bent his head to catch her lips, he was caught off guard by the feeling of her pushing him and flying backwards toward the water. But he didn't land with a splash; instead he landed on a drifting pool raft left there by a previous swimmer. Looking up at her, they locked eyes and he grinned.
"Think we can out do what happened in your aunt's pool?" Dean asked as Tate returned the grin. She never answered him, just walked over to the in ground steps, hips swaying in tune with the sticky and rare summer breeze, and gracefully plunged one foot into the water.
Back in the hotel room, Sam sat on the edge of one of the beds and aimlessly flipped through the channels. He knew, when Tate didn't come back, that it was going to be just him for the night and now, about two hours later, he was growing a little too annoyed. Pushing himself off the bed, he tossed the remote onto the pillow, slipped his shoes back on and grabbed the keys to the Impala. He knew his brother was too busy to get mad about him taking his car, he probably wasn't even aware that there were other people in the world besides him and Tate. A few minutes later he found himself driving down a somewhat crowded main street and found a bar with several empty parking spaces available. Dean was always telling him to loosen up and have some fun, so he decided he'd take his brother advice and try it, even if he only had a little fun. Walking into the bar, Sam found himself surround by college students hanging out with their friends, playing pool, drinking and just relaxing; something he used to do with Jessica and his own friends back at Stanford on a Friday night. After ordering himself a beer, he found an empty booth and sat in the corner, leaning against the wall. So he wasn't having any fun yet and if Dean was here, he'd probably be getting yelled at, but at least he was beginning to unwind.
An hour later, as Sam nursed his third beer, a young woman around his age sat down across from him. Her blue eyes startled him, they were so very blue, almost like a sapphire, her long brown hair fell in curved angles around her face and a smile graced her lips.
"Hi." Sam said, sitting up a little straighter.
"Hi, I hope you don't mind me sitting here but me and my friends have been watching you since you walked in and I think you're really cute." She giggled, just what Sam needed; a giggling somewhat drunk college girl. This was Dean's kind of girl, drunk, fawning all over him and willing to do whatever he wanted. Sam smiled at the girl.
"I'm Sam."
"Kara." They talked for awhile and he could tell she was drunk, she laughing at some of lame jokes he could remember his friend Chris back at Stanford telling him and no laughed at those jokes. After the string of mind numbing jokes ended, Sam watched her thoughtfully as her fingers danced around the neck of her beer bottle and decided to do something.
"Do you want to go see if we can steal a pool table and play a game or two?" He asked hopefully, in dire need of stretching his long legs. Kara's eyes seemed to light up and her smiled widened.
"Sounds fun, but I'm not that good. Can you teach me?"
"Of course." He stood first and then stuck a hand out, offering it to her. The two slipped in and out of the crowd of people and found an empty pool table on the other side of the room. After handing a cue to Kara, he situated himself behind her, his chin resting on her shoulder and hands wrapped around hers on the very end of the cue and proceeded to teach her how to play. She squealed every time she hit a ball, even if it never made it to the pocket, it just simply amazed her.
"Yeah, she's Dean's type all right." He thought as she giggled when a ball collided with another. This went on for a little while longer until Sam left her side and began to play across from her.
"We're going to a play a real game Sam?"
"Something like that." He murmured as he attempted to fall into a mind set that he could allow a little fun to creep in on. They stayed there, playing pool, drinking beers and having Kara dance up against him when one of her many favorite songs came through the speakers for the entire night, until the owner of the bar shooed that last of the bar flies out, included the two of them. Out in cooler night air, Sam sucked in a deep breath and looked at Kara.
"So, where did your friends go?"
"Probably back to the dorm."
"Oh. Do you need a lift back?" He asked, jamming his hands into his front pockets.
"Yeah I do." She smiled and looked around the parking lot for a car that possibly screamed Sam, but was taken aback when he lead her over to the Impala.
"It's beautiful, is it yours?" Kara was in awe, she had never seen a car like that before.
"No, my older brothers. But he let me use it for the night, he's back at the hotel with his...um...girlfriend." Sam stated, raking a hand through his hair and then opened the passenger's door for her, watching her slide into his normal seat. Walking around to the driver's side, he paused for a minute and noticed the wind had picked up, whipping around him and biting at the back of his neck. Ignoring it, Sam slid into the driver's seat and turned the car on, the engine roaring as he put it into reverse and flew out of the lot. The two drove in silence, the radio on low and barely humming. Sam pulled up toward the college and looked out the front window. The sky grew darker, if that was possible, the thick clouds that had just appeared over head began to swirl and the wind picked up yet again, sending things flying across the lot. A strike of lightning illuminated the campus and sent an ivory shaft of light into the Impala, caressing Sam's face and roughly streaking across Kara's. With a billowing roar, straight out of Kara's chest shot a black inky cloud and the passenger's side door opened, Kara's crumpled body was tossed out into the street. The soft features of the young woman who had been sitting next to him, soft lush curves and pouty lips vanished and in their wake appeared sharp sunken in cheek bones, skin stretched tightly across the planes of her face and gray lifeless chapped lips; it was the ghost from the dark room. She had possessed Kara, who she now no longer needed, and had Sam right where she wanted him.
"Hello Sam Winchester." The ghost cooed, her dead skin covered hand reaching out to touch his face. "Where's Miss King?"
Shrill, high pitched giggles filled the silent hall of the hotel as Tate and Dean swayed back to their room, his strong arms wrapped around her waist and water trickled down from her hair. Over her sun tanned shoulders was Dean's flannel shirt and her shorts rode low on her hips; who knew where her tank top went.
"De, I have to go back to the pool before morning."
"Why?"
"I lost my shirt. I don't need some kid finding it tomorrow when he goes swimming."
"Later, not now." He said as he kissed her neck and her hand snaked around to his back pocket, pulling his room key out. Slipping the key into the lock, she pushed Dean away for a second and opened the door. Walking into the room, she took note of the heavy darkness and silence around her, something wasn't right. The beds were empty, the TV and air conditioning off, the laptop sat closed on the small table and Sam's shoes were gone.
"Dean, did Sam go out and not tell us?"
"He might've gone out to get a bite to eat."
"De, its almost four in the morning. This isn't like Sam at all, something's wrong."