Author's Note: I don't own anything having to do with Supernatural only Katie belongs to me.

Created from a prompt that I received from Alva Starr. I certainly hope I did it justice my dear!

Whiskey Do My Talkin'

It was just after midnight when Dean Winchester turned into the Salvage Yard creating a cloud of dust from the dirt road. A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips at the feeling of coming back to the closest thing he had to call a home. The car pulled up to the back of the house and he cut the engine smacking a sleeping Sam in the chest to wake him.

Sam woke with a start and scowled at his brother for his rude awakening though he was happy he'd be able to crash on a actual bed for a couple of hours. They both got out of the car and waved off the idea of grabbing their duffels since it was late. A bed was calling the youngest Winchester while alcohol was calling the other.

The brothers walked through the back door with a little more noise than necessary as Sam stumbled over his own feet and Dean clapped his hand on his shoulder to keep him standing. To an outsider they would have looked like two mischievous children instead of the grown men that they were but the sound of a gun being cocked stopped them dead in their tracks.

A woman stood in bobby's kitchen with a shotgun aimed at their chests. "Who are you?"

Dean's face faltered for a second and glanced over to Sam who wore the same confused expression. The eldest Winchester was going to make some sarcastic remark but there was something about the way she skillfully held the gun that had him doubting she would think twice about shooting them.

Her finger itched to pull the trigger and the only thing actually stopping her was the sleeping hunter in the next room. "You have five seconds to start answering questions or you won't be walking out of here." She lowered the gun so it was aimed at their kneecaps.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean questioned incredulously as Sam raised his hands slightly to show they weren't a threat.

She turned the gun at Dean who seemed to be the only one not taking her seriously, "I asked you first."

"I'm Sam," the tall one spoke up, hoping he could sort things out before it got too out of hand, "This is my brother, Dean."

She glanced at Sam and then raked her eyes up and down Dean before her grip on the gun loosened. "You must be the boys. Hey, I'm Katie."

Sam nodded in greeting and supposed his brother could manage to not cause too many problems if he went to bed especially now that the shotgun had been set down on the table. He muttered a good night to the woman in front of them and shot Dean a look that screamed 'behave'.

Katie added to her already half full glass of whiskey and raised it to Dean, who had yet to move from his spot, before the tip of the glass was to her lips. The liquid slid down her throat with great ease and she sighed reveling in the warmth it filled her with.

"You going to stand there all night?" she questioned as she tilted her head to the side causing her bangs to fall into her eyes.

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times still trying to figure out what the hell was going on. There was a part of him that wanted to go make sure Bobby was still breathing but that fear quickly subsided when a loud snore erupted from the next room where the old hunter had passed out. There was another part, a much larger part, that couldn't take his eyes off the beauty in front of him. He appreciated the female body as much as the next guy but there was something different about her. Her pale white skin was such a contrast to the jet black hair that was held back with a clip that she had a sort of glow about her. Katie was dressed in jeans he swore she must have painted on with a plain navy blue shirt under a fitted leather jacket leaving some room for his imagination to run wild.

And it was.

He finally realized that she was still waiting for an answer and he shook his head to clear the thoughts of what he wanted to do to her, what he hoped to do to her. "So, how do you know Bobby?"

"Friend of a friend," she replied vaguely and put her chin to her chest, rocking her head back and forth a bit to stretch out the back of her shoulders. "You?"

"He's a two dollar hooker I picked up last week," Dean answered straight faced as he grabbed a glass out of the cabinet. He couldn't help but peek into the study where Bobby was asleep on the worn couch with a book hanging loosely from his fingers. After another loud snore he was confident that he was truly sleeping and in no distress.

Katie grasped the glass in his hand to keep it steady as she filled it to the top because in all reality no one liked drinking alone. "Guess Bobby went back to his old corner."

Dean found himself a little disappointed as she withdrew her hand but his skin tingled where she her soft fingers had touched him. He took in the amount of amber liquid in his glass and flicked his eyes over to meet hers impressed that she could take what he had to throw at her. The drive had taken close to eleven hours and as much as he'd love to close his eyes somewhere along the way he got his second wind.

Two hours and an empty bottle of whiskey later Katie was laughing at one of the many stories Dean had told her that night and he was eating up every second of it. It wasn't one of those high-pitched giggles that the bimbos at the bar usually used when he told a story this was a laughter that erupted from the depths of her stomach showing him she was actually paying attention. Their little party had long since moved outside so they wouldn't wake either Sam or Bobby and Dean leaned against the hood of the Impala while she sat on the back steps.

"He didn't really lose his shoe, did he?" she questioned, hanging on to every word he said like it was pure gold.

Dean chuckled and held up his right hand, "I swear! It went down the storm drain and I didn't want him to end up losing his leg or something so I had to get it out."

"Such a hero," she gasped in mock awe with one hand on her chest and her mouth hanging slightly open. Katie then rolled her shoulders for what seemed like the hundredth time that night and Dean motioned for her to go stand in front of him. She cocked an eyebrow apprehensively but got up nonetheless. "Why?"

When she got close enough he gently spun her around and slipped her leather jacket from her shoulders and tossed it onto the hood of the Impala causing her to shiver in the cool night air. He was surprised to see her in a sleeveless shirt but the way the moon danced along her skin had his mind reeling and his pants growing tight. Dean placed his hands on either side of her shoulders and started prodding his thumbs into her shirt clad skin to find exactly where the muscle knot was. He was surprised to find quite a few.

"You're awfully tense," he commented with a frown, wondering what had her so stressed out.

She tilted her head to the side and relaxed under his callused hands as he worked a particularly large knot out and moved onto the next. "Yeah, the spirit didn't seem too pleased that I was trying to put it to rest and I ended up crashing into the trunk of a tree. Though I suppose I should be thankful it wasn't a headstone."

"You're a hunter?" Dean questioned, slightly impressed.

"Among other things," Her chin dropped to her chest opening her back up to him completely. The atmosphere became almost palpable as she asked, "Do you ever feel like a fool for trying to save a world that can't be saved?"

He thought about it a minute, his hands never stopping their task, "I think the world's going to end bloody but when I go out it will be with a gun in my hand."

"I see you're a glass half full kind of guy."

He chuckled a bit and fought the urge to taste her enticing skin, "It's a little easier to be optimistic when you have someone like you standing in front of me."

"Is that supposed to be a pick up line, Winchester?"

"Well…that depends."

"On what?" A soft moan escaped her lips as his thumbs moved in a circular motion and Dean's eyes darkened in lust. He wondered what other noises he could get her to make out of pleasure and he started to harden at the thought.

He leaned forward enough so he could whisper in her ear, "On that."

It had been too long since Katie had given into a man's touch, and whether it was the alcohol giving her self-esteem a boost or the fact that he seemed to want her just as bad as she wanted him, she leaned back and ground her ass against him. His fingers froze in their spot for a millisecond before they dropped to her waist and held her where she was. She smiled as he gave her the green light and she rotated her hips slowly to tease him.

Dean placed a gentle kiss on the top of her bare shoulder and smirked when he saw her skin erupt in goose bumps. He took the clip out of her hair and watched as it cascaded over her shoulders. There was no turning back now and to be honest he didn't think he could if he tried. One kiss turned to two and then three and by the forth he had found the side of her neck making another satisfied sigh escape her lips.

Desire pooled between Katie's legs and she gasped as his fingers found their way just under the top of her pants, his lips never leaving her silky smooth skin that he swore tasted like honeysuckle. She rose up to the tips of her toes, his hands going further down the front of her jeans as she did so, and leaned further back into him. For the first time in months her mind had gone completely blank besides what was happening at that exact moment and she was hungrily sucking it in.

Dean Winchester knew how to take his cues and popped the button on her jeans and with his right hand just under her breast holding her to him he let his left hand glided over her underwear that had already grown moist. He hooked a finger around them and pushed them to the side as his fore finger gently stroked her opening. Another gasp came from Katie and she held on to the front of his jeans to keep herself standing.

As good as it felt and as mind numbing as it was she pulled away so she could spin around in his arms to face him. Her topaz eyes met his emerald ones and a silent plead of needing to be healed floated between them. His lips connected with hers ever so softly and it was the perfect solution for the scars that ran deep within her soul. Katie bit his bottom lip and pulled on it before their tongues danced feverishly. If this was the drug she needed to heal then she was going to drink in as much as possible.

Dean reached his hand behind him and without breaking their connection opened the backdoor of the Impala. He spun them around and with one hand on her back he carefully guided her down to the seat. As he shut the door to keep the cool night air out she pulled her shirt over her head and waited impatiently for him to give her attention again.

"Fix me," she whispered so softly she wasn't sure he had even heard her.

He did though as he lowered himself on top of her and claimed her lips in a chaste kiss and then whispered in her ear, "You're not broken."

Katie closed her eyes so he wouldn't see how much those three little words meant to her. Dean began kissing down the side of her neck to her collarbone while he slipped her out of her jeans and then sat up for a moment to rid himself of his own clothes. She reached up and pulled him back to her by the amulet that hung around his neck. Dean nudged her legs open with his knee and looked into her eyes asking for permission.

"Please," she rasped out.

He slid into her and held still for a moment so they could both get used to the feeling before he started rocking his hips in and out of her. This was just what she needed to make her whole again and her eyes closed reveling in the euphoric feeling. The longer he was inside of her the better it felt and the fast he moved building them both to the point of climax.

"Hey," his voice came out raspy, "Look at me."

She opened her eyes and the intensity that flew between them through her over the edge with him following a few short seconds later.

"Mornin'," Dean mumbled as he shuffled his way into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee pot.

Katie giggled at his disheveled look, "Good morning, sunshine."

"It's too early to be that chipper," he groaned turning back around to see her sitting at the table eating pie right out of the tin. "Where'd that come from?"

She shoveled another bite into her mouth, "Bakery down the street."

"Did you sleep at all last night?" he questioned as he walked over and took the fork from her hand so he could take a bite. She was a hunter, great in bed, and liked pie; Dean had to be careful before he fell for her.

A ghost of a smile past her lips, "A little."

Dean had seen that look in the mirror too many times in the past but to see it on her made him frown. He was about to inquire about it when Sam and Bobby made their way into the kitchen in the same way Dean had and went directly to the coffee.

"I should be heading out," Katie rose from her seat and gathered her things. "Thank you, Bobby, for everything," her eyes flickered over to Dean for a brief second before she left the house.

A few moments later her car rumbled to life and the sounds of gravel under her tires hit Dean's ears. He turned to Bobby as he sipped on a cup of coffee that was his lifeline that morning. "She's certainly a spitfire."

"That she is," Bobby nodded and a realization washed over the old hunter causing him to narrow his gaze. "Dean tell me you didn't."

The eldest Winchester flashed his best innocent smile and Sam shook his head, "I guess everything does have an exception."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean questioned turning to face his brother to avoid the heated stare he was still receiving from Bobby.

Sam shrugged, "Just didn't think you had a thing for witches. What was it that you said? They are always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere?"

"They are," Dean shivered at the thought causing Sam to let out a boisterous laugh.

"She didn't tell you?" Sam asked through another wave of laughter. Dean's eyes flashed between Sam and Bobby wondering what they were talking about. "She's a witch, Dean."

"Wiccan," Bobby corrected. "It's more spiritual than being a witch."

Dean didn't know what to say as his mouth opened and closed a few times until he finally stuttered out, "She said she was a hunter!"

"She wasn't lying to you, idgit," Bobby sighed.

Dean Winchesters outlook on witches would never change. He would always think the rabbit got the short end of the stick and that they were down right disgusting but there was a certain wiccan he wouldn't soon forget.