Chrys watched Sam wipe down tables, both admiring the width of his shoulders and worrying. She still thought the civilian life was a pipe dream, but the last few days had been almost peaceful. Work at the bar, check Sam out when he did heavy lifting, stare down other women checking him out, tend bar, go home, fuck Sam, sleep, repeat.
It was as peaceful as Chrys had ever had, anyway. But she knew, deep down in her heart, that it wasn't going to last. They were the prom king and queen of hell, normal wasn't for them.
The little blonde waitress had sidled up to Sam, talking him up. He met Chrys's eyes, and the amusement on his face made her heart speed up. He winked at her and turned back to Lindsey, and Chrys's knees went a little weak. With one stupid look, he could make her feel like they were in their own little bubble, one that the rest of the world would never be able to touch.
Smiling, she came around the bar to stand next to him, easily slipping an arm around his waist as Lindsey spoke.
"Here's what we play for. When I win, you buy me dinner and tell me your life story."
Sam grinned. "Sounds fair." He looked down at Chrys. "What do you think?"
"I think she's gonna kick your ass, Keith."
He pulled her tighter against him and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before moving over to the darts board with Lindsey. Chrys blushed a little and followed.
Maybe it was because of the soulmate thing, but with Sam, especially the last few days, she felt more valued than she had in her entire life. His easy affection and quick smile soothed her rather ragged heart, and she soaked it up eagerly. Even if she knew it was temporary, and that they were deliberately avoiding talking about things that really needed to be discussed, she would enjoy it while she had it.
When Sam won darts in the first thirty seconds of the game, she laughed out loud.
"Come for me, beautiful," Sam growled, leaning over her to whisper in her ear as he drove into her from behind.
She buried her face into the pillow in front of her, whimpering as the pressure inside her built to a peak. A huge, but very gentle, hand ran up her side to wrap around her throat, and he coaxed her up until her back was flush with his sweaty chest. "Don't you dare hold back any of those pretty little noises, Chrys," He whispered into her ear. "I want to hear you screaming for me."
Everything inside her blew apart, and she tilted her head back onto his shoulder and screamed for him as she came.
"Sam!"
She was curled next to him, deeply asleep, when he started twitching.
Chrys looked up blearily, trying to blink the sleep out of her eyes. Sam was twitching in his sleep, a soft, distressed moan in the back of his throat. She sat up, rubbing her face quickly and turning to him. He had broken out in a light sweat. "Sam?" She whispered.
"...ss…"
She blinked. Is he saying my name in his sleep?
A small smile was playing on her lips when he spoke again.
"... Jess…"
Chrys winced and her stomach dropped. Oh. She closed her eyes against the pain in her chest, then opened them again. Well, I'm not lying here with him while he dreams about someone else.
She got out of bed, not bothering to be gentle. She grabbed one of his flannel shirts and a pair of shorts, pulling them on haphazardly. She dug in her bag for her pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and one of the room keys, then she stepped out into the cool air.
She sat cross-legged, her back against the wall, and lit up. With a sigh, she exhaled and leaned her head against the wall behind her, fighting the tears.
He doesn't love you. Hell, he barely likes you. You're just an easy lay.
That hurt. A lot. She closed her eyes against the tears. She'd really thought they were getting somewhere, and now…
She was so in love with Sam. Everything he did, every smile and touch and look and laugh, they all delighted some part of her battered soul. She loved his arms around her, his voice rumbling in her ear, the way his gaze burned to let her know he was checking out her ass when she bent over.
She had never felt anything so strong, so steady.
And here she was, crying outside, wrapped in his shirt, smoking a cigarette, like some damn angsty teenager.
Get it together, Chrysanthemum, she thought to herself harshly, taking another deep drag.
Because at the end of the day. It didn't matter. She would, quite literally, follow him into hell, whether he loved her or not. She was determined to get used to it, get used to her devotion to him being one-sided, so maybe it wouldn't hurt like this forever.
"Fat chance," she muttered, taking another inhale.
She was interrupted by the door opening. Sam stuck his head out and looked around, and she couldn't help but smile at his tousled hair, no matter how upset she was. "Over here, Sammy," she said softly.
He turned and blinked at her. "What the hell are you doing out here, Chrys?"
She waved the cigarette in her hand, and he made a face. "Shut up, Sam," she said softly, turning back to take another drag.
To her surprise, he said nothing, just shut the door behind him and came to sit next to her. He put his big hand on her knee. She shifted, and he moved it to wrap his arm around her shoulders. "Everything all right?" he asked around a yawn.
She smiled up at him again. "Yeah, it's just been a long week, Sam."
He looked down at her, really looked at her. "Are you crying?"
She watched him carefully as he brought a hand up to wipe her tears away. "Good dreams, Sam?" She asked softly, knowing it would shut him up.
It did, and he sighed. "Are we gonna do this forever?"
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," she snapped. Despite her tone, she cuddled closer into his warmth.
Another heavy sigh. Drama queen. "It's cold out here, Chrys," He said softly. "Let's go inside."
They were at work the next night after a tense afternoon. Chrys didn't even look up when the door chimed. The three men who had come in were speaking, but it wasn't to her, so she didn't particularly care.
Until she heard Lindsey say, "Sam? What happened to Keith?"
Chrys looked up and met Sam's eyes, panic flooding them. "Wait, what?"
Lindsey pointed at the men who had come in. Sam stiffened, and Chrys assumed he recognized them.
"He called you Sam," Lindsey was saying.
Sam nodded. "Yeah, uh, Sam's my middle name."
What? Chrys suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. How has this man made it this long?
Lindsey was laughing. "Keith Sam? Man, I'm sorry."
Chrys came around the bar and smiled. "Actually, it's Samuel, so it's not quite as horrible as it sounds."
Lindsey nodded, then looked at the four men. "Are you guys friends?"
The man in front smiled, and Chrys immediately disliked him. "Hunting buddies," he was saying, "with his dad. Samuel here is quite the hunter himself."
Lindsey's eyebrows went up as she looked at Sam. "Wow. You killed deer and things?"
The man snorted. "Yeah, and things."
"Keith," Chrys said firmly, "why don't you grab the guys a table, and I'll get everyone drinks."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, okay."
Chrys went and poured three beers, keeping an eye on the table. Sam looked a little guilty. Which meant that either he had done something truly horrible, which he should feel very guilty about, or he had done nothing at all.
Idiot.
Chrys slipped out the back door, claiming she needed a cigarette. Sam frowned at her,but she abandoned him with the very friendly Lindsey without hesitation. Normally, it would have made Chrys growl to see someone so into Sam, but she had bigger fish to fry tonight.
Chrys had a feeling about Tim and his buddies.
She finished fiddling with her pistol and sat down at the entrance to the parking lot, waiting.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, the truck came to swing into the parking lot. Tim slammed on the brakes when he saw her sitting in the middle of the road.
Chrys calmly got to her feet and walked toward the truck, keeping her gun down at her side. "Help you boys?"
"Get out of my way, bitch."
She chuckled. "Well, that's not very nice. No, I don't think I will."
Tim snarled. "You wanna get run over?"
She waved the gun cheerfully. "You wanna get shot?"
He squinted at her, and leaned out his driver's side door. "You're the bartender."
She nodded. "That I am."
He frowned. "Why do you care?"
She didn't answer, just started walking around to the driver's side of the truck, keeping the gun trained on Tim. Once she got there, she looked at him. "Go home, guys. Get out of here, and never look back."
Tim scoffed. "Not a chance."
She sighed. "What, exactly, did Sam do?"
He looked at her for a long time. "Steve's dead."
Chrys shrugged coldly. "Bummer. What does Sam have to do with it?"
"We were hunting the demon Sam told us about. And it killed Steve."
She rolled her eyes. "I reiterate: Bummer."
"You see, this demon, he, uh, he told us things. Crazy things, things about Sam."
She smiled. "Ah, there it is. So, what's the plan? Are we gonna kill him? Or, oh! We're gonna get him to use the 'powers' the big, scary demon told us about. Huh?"
The blank looks on their faces were answer enough.
She leaned into the driver's side window, casually putting the gun under Tim's chin. "Look, gentlemen," she said softly. "I'm sorry about Steve. That sucks. But this? This is a shitty idea."
"See, even if demons didn't lie, which they do, and even if that was possible, which it isn't, why the fuck would you go after someone who's strong enough to exorcise a demon without an exorcism?"
"And even if you did do that, let me assure you about what would happen." She met their eyes in turn, then went back to Tim's. "Sam would kill you. And if he didn't, I would kill you, and I would make you wish Sam had killed you, because he's nicer than I am."
"So, gentlemen, and I use the term loosely, you have two options. One, go ahead and try to go on in there, guns blazing. You'll be dead before you get to the front door. Or two, drive away, don't come back, and pray I never run into you again."
Tim had a mutinous glare in his eye. "Listen, you little cunt-"
Chrys slammed her hand over his mouth and casually pointed the gun down to shoot his knee. The silencer she'd put on the gun deadened the shot, and her hand muffled his screams.
"Holy shit!" the other man said.
She pointed the gun at him. "Shut up." She looked back at Tim. "Tim, buddy, look at me." He was still staring at his knee. Rolling her eyes, she leaned forward and hit him on the knee with the barrel of the pistol, setting him off screaming again. "Tim," she snapped. He finally looked at her. "There we go," she said softly. "You're going to drive away now, all right? And you're gonna be gone for a long time, okay?"
He nodded frantically. "Now I'm going to take my hand away. If you shout, my next shot won't be in your knee. Understood?" Another nod.
Keeping the gun pointed at them, she patted the driver's side door. "Got a long drive ahead of you, boys, you should probably head out.
The truck squealed in reverse, and then squealed away.
"Long cigarette break earlier," Sam said slowly, walking back to the motel with Chrys. Her slim hand was clasped in his.
He tightened his grip when she tried to pull away. "What happened?"
She shook her head. "I took care of business, Sam."
He frowned. "What?"
She looked at him for a long moment. "Tim and Reggie. They came back to the bar. Steve died."
Sam was shocked. "Jesus, that's awful."
She shrugged. "It's the life. But they blamed you. The demon they were fighting told them about your, ah, extracurriculars in the exorcism department to save it's own ass."
He sighed. "Okay, so they know, that sucks."
She shook her head and tugged him to a stop. "Sam, they wanted to kidnap you. They were going to force you to drink demon blood and exorcise that demon."
"Jesus," he ran a hand through his hair, his mind whirring. Then he stopped and looked at her. "What did you do?"
She shrugged. "Shot him in the knee, told him to get lost, and to not come back."
"Chrys! That's… That's crazy!"
She started walking again, pulling him along with her. "No, Sam, that's practical. A little sentimental, actually, I should have shot them in their stupid heads. You're messing with my thought processes, Winchester."
He stopped again, pulling her to a stop again. "Chrys…"
She held her hand up to interrupt him. "Sam, I'm just saying we're in the big leagues now. Demons and God and Lucifer… We don't have time for people with vengeance issues." She signed and stepped forward to wrap her arms around his waist. His slowly came up around hers, and then he crushed her to him.
"I just have a feeling that that's gonna come back to bite us in the ass, Sammy."
They started forward again, and he noticed her shiver. He pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He grinned down at her. "So… You shot someone for me?"
She elbowed him in the ribs, chuckling. "No, I shot someone for me. The last time you died, I went into a coma."
Sam laughed, pulling her close to drop a kiss on top of her head. It was strange, but being with Chrys made him feel like maybe he wasn't just some fuckup who had started the apocalypse. "I dunno, I think I'm growing on you, beautiful."
Her arm snaked around his waist and she looked down. "Maybe," she said softly enough that he almost didn't hear it.
He decided to let her have it, just pressed another kiss to her head. It had been a while since Sam had felt so light-hearted.
**Feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and keeps me going.
