A/N: I'm deviating from SPN canon in Season 8 by a LOT here, FYI. Wee bit o' citrus in this one, too. Ye be warned.

Chapter 6

Bella PoV

No way. No fucking way. This guy looks barely a day older than Dean. No possible way he could be their grandfather. He's not a vampire; that much I can see. Unless he's one of the other kinds of vampire. Dean told me they looked like normal humans for the most part.

"Lemme give you the skinny," Bobby says. "This guy pops up outta nowhere in a town where you two had a case recently. He starts going on and on about finding John Winchester. Luckily Rufus wasn't far away and heard about it. So he brought him here, thinking I'd know what to do, then took off. You know Rufus, never likes to stick around."

Henry nods at Bobby's words, agreeing with them. "Yes, the kind negro brought me here without asking for a single thing in return. I'm very grateful to his kindness, even if he is a... hunter." I am so glad he didn't say the "n" word, I nearly collapse. "I'm sure I look a lot younger than you lads probably know me, but it is me. I assure you. Am I… am I still alive somewhere?"

No one answers his question. Sam and Dean had mentioned that Bobby was really their only family, so either their estranged or he's dead in this day and age. "Bobby I assume you ran the usual gambit of tests on him?" Sam asks. Tests? What tests?

"No reaction to iron, silver, salt, dead man's blood, borax, holy water or holy oil." Oh, those tests. Whatever that means. "So either he's nothing we've ever seen before, or-"

"Or I somehow traveled through time and arrived here in your time. Is it true? Are you really the sons of John Winchester?"

"That's our dad," Dean replies, a grim smile on his face. "How did you get here, exactly?"

"I'm not entirely sure," the man called Henry answers. "I was given a box to protect from a demon, Abaddon, that slaughtered my entire order. The spell I used was supposed to bring me to my family, but instead it brought me forward in time to you."

"Order? Spells? Are you a witch?" Dean asks.

The man rolls his eyes. "No, I'm a man of letters," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Looking at the others in the room, I can see they're just as out of the loop as me. "You can drop the act, I know you are as well. You have to be. You're legacies." Sam and Dean look at each other then back at Henry as if he's speaking Greek. "We guard the supernatural secrets of the world, how do you not know all this? Didn't your father bring you into the fold when you came of age?"

"Our father is dead," Dean replies. "And as far as he knew, you abandoned him when he was a kid."

Henry looks affronted. "No, that's not possible… I would never. Wait, how old was he when I allegedly abandoned him?"

"Four," Dean answers shortly.

"Oh no," Henry rasps. "He's four right now. I mean… to me, he's four. I just read him a goodnight story before I went to… oh god. I don't make it back to my time, do I?" My heart breaks for him. He's clearly a man who loves his son more than anything, and it's devastating him to learn that not only does he never see his son again, but that his son thought he ran out on him when he was only four.

"Okay first question, why would you have to use time travel or any spells to kill a demon? Simple exorcism should work, or do you not do those in your time?" Dean asks, his voice full of contention for this man that should have been a second father figure to him. I place my hand on his shoulder in support. Henry comes further into the room and sits at one of the tables. He downs a shot of whiskey that's sitting there, cringing at the taste. My guess is he's either not a drinker, or used to the good stuff.

"She's no ordinary demon," Henry begins. "Abaddon was possessing the body of the first woman of letters, Josie Higginbotham. She used her to get into the inner chamber where she then slaughtered every man I work with. Salt and holy water don't do anything. She laughed at the exorcism. She's a knight. A knight of hell." Josie Higginbotham? It can't be.

"Where is she now?" I ask.

"I suspect back in 1958 where I left her," he answers. "But knowing how powerful she is, she could find a way to follow me here. Or kill my son which would then prevent either of you from being born. She must be stopped." I can't figure out why, but the name Josie Higginbotham is super familiar.

"How long was she possessing your friend Josie, do you think?"

"No way to know. She's resistant to all the things that make a demon stand out, even devil's traps. Could have been since before I even knew her. Why do you ask?"

"My great-grandmother's name was Josie Higginbotham." Dean turns to me, eyes wide. "She went missing shortly after having my Grandmother, Marie. No one ever saw her again." I step back, the reality of these words hitting me like a ton of bricks. My great grandmother was possessed by a demon. Holy shit on a stick.

"It might not be her, Remi," Sammy says.

"How many Josie Higginbothams do you know?" I ask rhetorically. "Even then, Josie may have been a popular name, but Higginbotham? Not so much. I happen to know that it's rare enough that anyone with that last name is related to me somehow."

"Well, do we start singing 'it's a small world after all' or do we figure out how to get Gramps here back to his own time?" Dean states.

I shake my head. "We can't, Dean. Don't you see? If your dad grew up without him, that means that he never makes it back to his time. If we send him back there, everything that you know as history could change possibly drastically. If your legacy was to become a man of letters, then your dad never taught you to hunt, Hell, he may not have even met your mom. So much has ridden on the fact that Henry here, never made it home again. Yes, I'm sure it was devastating to your dad and your grandmother, but it is what it is. I'm sorry Henry, but you're stuck here."

He nods. "Yes, I know. Our order is well aware of the effects of messing with history. Which is why we only observe and make notes of our encounters. We don't hunt. You… all of you are hunters?"

We all nod. "I'm still in training."

"You were supposed to be men of letters yet you've degraded yourselves to be common hunters." Hey, who said anything about common?

"Um, not sure what your beef with hunters is, Henry, but these boys have saved the world… multiple times. Can you say that after your time as a man of letters?" Bobby asks, taking a protective stance in front of us. I can see that he feels like a father to the boys just as much as they see him as one. Henry's face falls, and we have our answer.

"Men of Letters are only to document and observe," he reiterates. "We do not get involved in the affairs of hunters and their prey. Occasionally when a situation is… messy… we'll divulge certain trade secrets to a small number of hunters, but that's it. Hunters are… well, they're like janitors, where we're the scholars."

Sam and Dean both shake their heads in disbelief. Bobby is just staring at the guy as if he's sprouted a third eye. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You have a horde of the world's creepy crawly secrets and you what… keep them in boxes and in file cabinets?"

Henry frowns. "Yes, basically. We have a bunker in Kansas where all of that is held. I'm sure there are a team of Men of Letters there now, keeping watch over what's there and documenting more. I'm sure they'll be floored to learn of my arrival via time-travel and that my grandchildren have become mere hunters instead of what they were meant to be." He chuckles. Who the hell is this guy? I mean I get that he's from a different time, but he's acting as if everything's hunky dory. When it isn't. It sooo isn't. The looks of betrayal on Sam and Dean's faces could melt the mane off a lion.

The inner tigress in me comes out to play. "Listen Boy Howdy, you do realize that this whole situation is fucked, right?" I say. He looks offended. "Oh I'm sorry, do ladies not use the word 'fuck' in your time? I'll bet they don't dress like this either or have short hair, or traipse across the country with two grown men, either. Look man, it's 2010. Get with the program. Times have changed so you'll have to adapt.

"This is no laughing matter. You literally traveled 52 years into the future. You've got a knight of hell on your tail who just so happens to be living in the body of my great grandmother. Your son, who all this time thought he was abandoned by you, is dead and your only two grandsons, who have never thought much of you either, are here watching you completely bash their profession right to their faces. What do you think is going to happen here, that you'll hug it out and sing Kumbaya around a bon-fire with some marshmallows?"

"I'm sorry miss, I meant no offense, I assure you," he grovels.

"Whatever." I wave my hand dismissively and leave the room, heading out to the porch. Dean follows.

"You okay, babe?" he asks. Babe? That's new.

"Yeah, I just… I don't like the way he was so blasé about what you and Sammy do. It's important work. You save lives. You saved me! And he acts as if you're a bunch of lesser beings or something. He's the one that can't work a spell right and wound up 52 years in the future. Plus he's your grandfather. Regardless of what he might think of your job, he should be treating you a bit better. And yes, I get the situation is several kinds of fucked up, but still he could have some damn tact."

"You're quite the tiger when you're upset,"

I huff. "I don't like it when people I care about are treated poorly. I get… I get very protective."

"I can see that," Dean answers, a smug grin on his face. "It's the same for me. Do you ah, wanna get outta here? Go for a walk or something?"

"Sure, I could use a tension relief," I agree. He tells the others we're gonna step out for a minute and then comes back out to the porch with me, Bobby in tow.

"Gotta snap a few pics for your new IDs," Bobby explains, holding up the camera in his hands.

I stand against the wall of the house and let him capture a few shots of my face before letting me head out with Dean. Wordlessly, he takes my hand in his and leads me down the steps and through the rows of old cars, weaving my fingers with his. Soon we reach the actual road and stroll along on the sidewalk. I concentrate on the feeling of his hand in mine. I lean into him. "Thanks, Dean. This is exactly what I needed." He simply smiles in return and squeezes my fingers minutely. "Um, so I have a question for you," I continue.

"I imagine you have more than one since we stepped into Bobby's," Dean replies, smirking.

"Yes, well, the first one that came to mind is about the series of tests that Bobby ran. What are they and what do they do?"

"Ah those," Dean replies. I can feel his thumb rubbing gently along mine; it's very soothing. "Well, ghosts and demons react poorly to iron and salt. It hurts. Makes ghosts disappear actually, but they come back in a minute or two, angrier than before, but it gives you time to prepare for what to do next. Holy water burns demons, too. Silver can harm various other monsters, like shapeshifters." He's counting off the items on his fingers like a grocery list. "Your wolf friends are more like skin-walkers than shapeshifters. I'll tell ya all about that later. Um, Dead man's blood weakens vampires… the kind we usually deal with anyway, borax burns leviathan like battery acid, and holy oil can trap angels." I balk at that one. "You'd be surprised; most angels are dicks. They're not all as nice as Cas."

"There's that word again, Nice. It's not a word I'd use to describe your trench-coated friend. But I can see that he is your friend. And despite not knowing me from a hole in the ground, he's been… um, polite? I guess."

Dean laughs. "Yeah, that's about all the emotion you'll ever get outta the bastard. Castiel has always had trouble expressing human emotions since he isn't human. Well he has been, and then he became an angel again. It's complicated. Let's just say we've been through a lot of shit in our lives, and like Bobby said, saved the world a coupla times. Though, not without its drawbacks. We've lost a lot." I notice that he doesn't necessarily take pride in the fact that he's saved the world. It's just all part of the job description.

"A lot of people we care about have died because of this life. Our mom, our dad, most of our friends, and those that were close enough to be considered family. Which is why I'm so on the fence about you."

"Me? What did I do?"

"Nothing, sweetheart." He turns to me and cups my cheek with his free hand. "We care for you. Sammy and me. And when we care for people, they usually end up getting killed. I can't bear for that to happen to you."

I shake my head, covering his hand on my cheek with my own. "Dean, there's nothing you can do to prevent that," I begin. He drops his hand, but I keep my grip on it. "I used to have the same conversation with Edward. You may be surprised to learn that being around vampires is kinda dangerous." He laughs lightly, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He's looking down at our hands, avoiding my eyes. "I've always been a walking-talking danger magnet. I'm the most dangerous to myself. So clumsy that I literally stumble through my life. Then I meet two young guys clad in flannel and denim and my world turns around.

"I know you saw me stumble that day in the diner, but it wasn't because I tripped over nothing. My legs collapsed when I heard you two talking about a 'red-headed vamp.' I knew you were talking about Victoria and it made me lose my footing. And since then, I haven't tripped, stumbled or lost my balance even once. Trust me, that's a feat of olympic proportions. It's only been a few days, but I feel like I've finally found where I can really be myself. This is where I belong. Consequences be damned."

He says nothing, but I can see the small crinkle next to his eyes that tells me the smile playing on his lips is genuine. After a few minutes, we come upon a park. "C'mon, I'll push you on the swing." A huge grin shows on his face when he sees my smile. He releases my hand and jogs over to the swingset. Once I get there and sit in a swing he starts to push, just like he said. "It's been a long time since I pushed anyone in a swing. Hell, it was probably Sammy when he was little."

"I can't remember the last time I was even in a swing. It's a miracle I even fit." He stops pushing and grips the chains to stop the swing. My body jerks around a bit at the sudden change in movement. Instantly he's in front of me, his hands gripping the chains on either side of my head.

"Why would you say that?"

"Say what?" I'm completely confused.

"That it's a miracle you even fit," he says, quoting me, but angrily.

I blink at him. "Because I'm an adult and these are made for children. What's your deal?"

"You're beautiful. Do you know that? Absolutely fucking gorgeous, and I wouldn't change a thing about you. I just want you to know that."

Oh… he thinks I have body image issues. Well, now that I'm not surrounded by supermodel vampires, I don't see myself quite so poorly as I did before. Though I've never considered myself fat. In fact, I could stand to put on a few pounds. I'd lost a bunch when Edward left me, and I've yet to gain much of it back. "Thank you Dean. You're not so bad yourself, y'know," I say, trying to lighten the mood.

"Is that so? You just like a man with tattoos. I see how it is."

"Oh yeah, I was considering running away with Gio," I tease. His expression darkens and it's all the confirmation I need to know that Dean is absolutely into me and doesn't like the idea of me being with anyone else. "But, then there was a bigger, better deal, so I went with that." His eyes lighten and he gazes at me with mirth, but a little bit of trepidation and uncertainty. Sammy did say to be direct with Dean. "You, Dean. You were the bigger better deal. Still are."

"Bella," he whispers, bringing one of his hands off the chain to caress my cheek. His fingers are rough and his eyes are full of questions. I can see his hesitance. Maybe he doesn't really know The position I'm in makes it hard for me to close the distance since my face is so much lower than his due to the swing seat. In the nearly non-existent space between us, I stand up. I'm still far shorter than him, but the gap is smaller. I look up into this beautiful hazel eyes that seem greener the closer I get, and urge him to close the distance between our mouths. He just stares back, waiting for me to tell him what I want. Sammy's words come back and I throw caution to the wind.

"Kiss me, Dean," I breathe. He doesn't have to be told twice. His mouth is on mine and it's so glorious. His lips are warm and rough and soft at the same time. He cups my face with one hand and winds the other into the short hairs at the back of my head. Now I suddenly miss my longer locks. There'd be more for him to grab onto. He doesn't complain though as he groans into my mouth. I wrap my hands around the lapels of his jacket and pull him impossibly closer to me.

At the same time, we open our mouths to each other and start moving our tongues together. I've never been kissed like this, certainly not by Edward. This is unlike anything I've ever felt. Dean drags his teeth along my bottom lip, eliciting a low moan from me. One of his hands moves down to wrap around my waist. He's careful to steer clear of my still tender tattooed skin. I inch my hands up and into his hair, which is surprisingly soft as silk.

He groans, spurring my movements. I begin scratching at the nape of his neck and slide one hand down to his shoulder blade and grip him tightly. "Bella," he breathes, pulling away from me slightly. He kisses down my neck and latches onto the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. Holy crow, that's hot. "We're in public," he adds, still kissing my neck. Ah yes, I should probably care about that.

I lean back, taking in the sight of his swollen lips and the look in his half-lidded eyes. This man wants me. Not the way a vampire wants a human's blood, but truly not far off. His desire is primal and animalistic. It's like Brian at the salon said. Dean is going to be something else in the sack. But it's too soon, right? I mean we've just had our first kiss, we really shouldn't be jumping into bed just yet. I bite into my lip, realizing the flesh is swollen and tender.

As soon as the lustful gleam in his eyes appears, it's gone, and he's back to the playful but guarded Dean that I met. "C'mon doll face. Let's head back and face the firing squad. Plus, I think it's time we clean and moisturize our tattoos again." Oh, he's looking for another excuse to touch me; not that he needs one. Not anymore.

Back at Bobby's Henry is nowhere to be seen and Sam is sitting in the kitchen sipping on a Beer. "Bobby's setting Henry up in the guest bedroom," Sam says by way of explanation. "Where'd you to go?" Sam's eyes shift back and forth between me and Dean. Dean, I'm sure, has a cool collected mask on his face revealing nothing of what just occurred in the park. I on the other hand am not so skilled… yet. The blush I can feel heating my cheeks is giving everything away. I look up at Dean who then turns towards me for a brief moment. He offers me a half smile and a wink.

"Bobby finished these up for you," Sam said, not bothering to continue waiting for an answer to his question. He hands me a pile of cards. Among them I find a new driver's license with the name Bella Remington on it. Damn, how long were Dean and I gone for? There are a couple other fake badges, including one for the FBI. I look at it carefully, inspecting it for any flaws and finding none. My dad had taught me what to look for when it came to badges, and these ones are pretty damn good. "Where did Bobby learn to forge these so well?" I ask.

"Hunter in the FBI," Sammy answers. "He tells Bobby about the changes made to the badges whenever they come out. Part of this job is lying to the authorities, pretending to be higher ups ourselves. It's how we get into the door in a lot of these cases. I'm sure you can guess that we can't just waltz into a police station and tell them someone in their town is being haunted by a vengeful spriit, or that there's a nest of vampires killing their townsfolk. Doesn't quite work that way."

"No, I understand perfectly. I'm probably one of few in this world that you could simply say those things to and would believe you. While I can't say I'm excited about breaking the law being a part of my life now, I'm not opposed to it. We do what we have to, right? How do we get money? I can't imagine you can use those fake credit cards for everything, right?"

Dean nods. "We hustle pool and poker to get cash." I smile. One of the few perks of spending a lot of time on the Rez and with Emmett. I am proficient in both. "Sometimes, Sammy insists on honest work and does yard work and stuff for old people. Doesn't pay as well, but it makes him feel better inside."

"Jerk," Sammy mutters.

"Bitch." I really need to come up with a line to join in on that.

Bobby joins us and tips his hat at me. "Thanks for these, Bobby. They're great," I say, holding up my new IDs. He nods at me again and I learn he must be a man of few words, especially with those he doesn't know well. And now, fifty percent of the extra people in his house are virtual strangers.

"Well, Bobby, I think we're gonna shower and hit the hay," Dean says, wrapping his arm around my waist. It looked like Bobby was gonna ask about our sleeping arrangements, but Dean's unspoken message that he and I are together answers Bobby's question. Dean then slides his hand across my waist to grasp my hand and lead me up the stairs to where our room is. I notice my bag is already resting on the chest of drawers. Sammy must have brought in our stuff while Dean and I were out on our walk.

Handing me a towel, Dean gestures towards the bathroom that's across the hall. "Um, you can go ahead and shower first. I'll uh, take care of your tattoo afterwards." He's not looking at me. Goodness me, is he suddenly shy? Perhaps now that we've kissed he's unsure where we stand on intimacy and all that. Not that I'm ready to start showering with him yet, though it is tempting.

While in the shower, I decide how to let him know that I'm ready to jump headfirst with him into whatever this is. No, I'm not ready for sex, but I want him to know that I'm comfortable with him expressing his affection for me. I leave the shower and realize belatedly that I'd left my pajamas in the bedroom, which actually helps my situation. Dean has yet to see me in only a towel, so this'll be uncharted territory for the both of us. I dry off as thoroughly as I can, careful not to drag the terry cloth towel across my tattoo. The benefit of my now very short hair is it's already half dry and I won't have to braid it down my back to keep it from getting tangled in the night. Then I wrap the towel around me, making sure all the important bits are covered and poke my head out of the bathroom.

The door to our room is just slightly ajar and the hallway is empty. Either Bobby is still downstairs or he's already in his room for the night. I scamper across the hall and dart into the room, closing the door behind me. I'm okay with Dean seeing me in a towel, but the other men… not so much. Dean is standing in the room, his back turned to me and pulling items out of his duffel. He's shirtless, so I get an awesome view of his muscular back. I ogle him shamelessly as his muscles flex while he's moving things around in his bag. When he finally turns towards me, probably feeling that someone's watching him, he freezes. "Remi?"

The look on his face is a mixture of shock and lust. I'm gonna hone in on the lust to give me the boost of confidence I need. He looks me up and down, his eyes focusing on my bare legs. I glance at the V shaped line that leads into his pants. Yum. I need to get back on track. "Um, lotion? For my tattoo?" He shakes his head, as if to rid his mind of some images, grabs the bottle from the dresser and heads towards me. I smile and turn around giving him better access to my skin. He gently rubs the lotion into my tattoo.

"It's starting to scab already," he whispers. "So it'll start itching pretty bad. Let me know if you can't stand it and I'll try and soothe the itch for you, since you won't exactly be able to reach it yourself. About all you can do is lightly slap it to help soothe the itch, since you don't want the scabs to come off early."

"Thanks," I murmur. His fingers brush down my neck and across my collarbone. I don't have ink there, so he's just touching me because he can. And I like it. When I shiver with desire, his hand stops and squeezes my shoulder lightly.

"Remi… I… Dammit, woman, do you have any idea how sexy you are right now?" I whirl around, surprised at his angry tone. "I'm losing it here, babe. Every part of me wants to rip that towel away and toss you on this bed to have my way with you. " Well damn, now I want that, too. "But I know it's too soon for all that."

"You're right, it is too soon, and I know this won't help, but I want that, too. Just… not yet." I notice that he's beginning to pitch a tent. He groans at my words and closes his eye. "Um, how about you go and take care of that in the shower and I'll put some clothes on." He looks down, his cheeks reddening slightly. Dear god, I never thought I'd see Dean blush. It's quite a sight.

Once I hear the shower kick in, I remove my towel and throw on one of Dean's t-shirts that I pilfer from his duffel and a pair of boyshorts. I slide under the covers, laying on my stomach, and fight falling asleep while I wait for Dean to emerge from the bathroom. When he does, I notice that he's wearing only a pair of sleep pants. He stops at the dresser to slather some lotion on his chest. Damn, I wanted to do that. I guess I can in the morning. He then pulls the covers back slightly and lays alongside me, spooning me and wraps his arm around my waist. "Is this… is this my shirt?" he asks, tugging at the sleeve.

"Sure is," I reply, smiling into my pillow.

"Dammit, Remi, this isn't helping," he groans, burying his face in my neck. I feel his hand slide down my arm and down my leg. He pauses when he reaches the hem of my boyshorts and feels nothing but smooth skin. "And you're not wearing pants? Dear god, woman, are you trying to kill me?"

"No, but if I was, would it be such a horrible way to go?" I'm suddenly not tired at all anymore and desperately want his lips on mine. I turn around in his arms and shift so my face is level with his.

"It would be a hell of a way to go," he replies before pressing his lips to mine. Mm, yes, this is exactly what I wanted. His hand grips my hip firmly causing me to gasp in pleasure. Damn, who knew I liked my hips being squeezed. He deepens this kiss by teasing along my bottom lip with his tongue, coaxing my mouth open. I hitch my leg over his hip and can feel his new arousal pressing against my center. Damn, now I really know how much he wants me.

"Dean," I whisper as his lips descend my neck and latch onto that same spot. I feel his teeth graze across my skin and it sends a shiver down my spine. I pull him closer to me, desperate for him to wrap me up tightly in his arms.

"Oh Remi… I need to ask you something," he moans against my neck. I pull back slightly, waiting for his question. His half-closed eyes bore into mine. "I know you were with that vamp for a while, but I don't know how… um, experienced you are. I'm not judging; I just know you're young, and I just don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you into something you're not ready for."

"Dean, I want you so bad it's painful," I reply. "But you're right, I am inexperienced. Edward and I… well, all we ever did was chastely kiss. He never once kissed me the way you have. And he was my first kiss and first boyfriend, so… that should answer your question."

His grip on my hip tightens. "Bella, are you telling me you're a virgin?" Not wanting to admit it outloud, I nod. I'm not ashamed of my virginal status, but I wouldn't be surprised if Dean would rather be with someone who knows what she's doing.

"I um… I get if you'd rather be with someone with more experience." I start to pull away when he then grips me tight and yanks my body against his.

"Don't ever think that, Bella," he whispers. "I want you more than anything. You telling me you're a virgin just means I'll have to be gentle… at first. I'm so turned on at the thought that I'll be your first, you have no idea. Also, it pleases me to know that Ediot will be missing out on this glorious gift. That is… if you even want to give your virginity to me."

Oh lord, Sammy was totally right. Dean must not have a very high opinion of himself and really does need constant reassurance. "Dean, I wouldn't be laying here in this bed with you, with my leg wrapped around your hip, and wearing your shirt if I didn't want to have sex with you. I wouldn't lead you on like that, or leave you hanging. I'm not quite ready to take that leap, but with the way you kiss me and touch me, it definitely won't be long before I'm practically begging for it."

He shifts so he's hovering above me, holding his weight off of my body. "Remi, you will never, ever have to beg for it. Not from me." He leans down and kisses me sweetly, gently brushing his lips across mine. It's so damned romantic, I can hardly contain myself. "When you're ready, you'll let me know?"

"Of course," I whisper. He then kisses my forehead and moves again to lay next to me. He lays on his back and motions for me to take up my usual spot, curled up on his chest. Within seconds I fall asleep, listening to the thrumming of his heart, in sync with my own.

A/N: Yay, they kissed! I know a few of you were looking forward to that moment, I hope I didn't disappoint. Wee bit o' citrus like I said up top, but not a full on lemon just yet. Gotta up the UST just a bit first ;) Also, the fact that Bella is biologically related to Abaddon's Meat suit is going to play a big factor in killing her… you'll just have to see how! ;) I do try not to make all the drama too much like a soap-opera, but I couldn't resist with this one. Plus, who doesn't love the name Higginbotham?

Next chapter will be Dean's take on the kiss as well as some more stuff with Henry/Abaddon.