Jo caught Rachel in a fierce embrace almost as soon as she'd stepped out of the Impala. "I've been so worried about you," she whispered into Rachel's neck.

Rachel returned the hug. "I'm okay. I am, really." She rubbed Jo's back and thought about pulling away. Decided she didn't really have the strength to, so she tightened her arms and relaxed against Jo.

She could hear Dean and the others getting out of the car. Doors slammed, bags were hoisted. Dean put his hand on her shoulder as he passed and said, "Don't stay out too long, Rach. You're going to gather a crowd of horny hunters."

Jo laughed and pulled away, keeping her arm around Rachel's shoulders. "I can take care of them," she said.

"Yeah, I know you think you can." He gave them both a half-smile, then went ahead of them into the Roadhouse with Sam.

"Hey, Jo," Nathan said, sidling up next to them.

"Oh my God, Nathan!" she shrieked. She let go of Rachel and tackle-hugged Nathan, almost knocking him over. "It's been forever since I've seen you, how are you?"

He pulled away, grinning. "I'm… okay. All things considered."

"Right. Oh my God, it's so weird seeing you here. I haven't seen you since Mom made me tour that college."

"We've chatted."

"On the computer doesn't count. This is so great." Jo turned to Rachel, beaming. "See, I have this idea that you, me, and Nathan should form our own hunting sect. You research, I do the killing, Nathan does the exorcism stuff. You know, magic crap that he's so good at. We'd be so good at it." She links arms with Rachel and Nathan and they began walking to the bar.

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Well, maybe. Except that I kind of like hanging around with Sam and Dean. You know. My husband?"

Jo makes a derisive sound. "We'd be so much better. It'd be… girl power. And Nathan."

"I'm all for girl-power."

Rachel just rolls her eyes again. "Well, that'd be something. Maybe next time Dean and Sam go off without me, I'll think about it. But, that's not going to happen for, I know. Years? And I don't think Nathan's going to ease off on Sam any time soon…"

"What? You're with Sam?" Jo glanced over at Nathan, who was pushing the door to the bar open so they could go inside.

"Not with. Working at, sort of," he answered. "We've kissed."

"Under the influence of a lust spell," Rachel felt compelled to point out.

He grinned wickedly. "Yeah, that wasn't what I was talking about."

Her mouth fell open. "You kissed for real?"

He was nodding when Ellen came up to their group.

"Hey, Rachel." She gently extracted Rachel from Jo and gave her a warm hug. "How you holding up?"

"She's fine, Mom."

"Jo, go take Nathan to get something to eat," Ellen said without letting Rachel go.

Jo huffed and stomped off with Nathan.

Ellen stroked Rachel's hair and then pulled away. "Dean said you're coming back from the cabin?"

"Yeah. I think… I don't remember anything, really. But just being there helped me, I don't know, make some sense of it. In a way that doesn't make any sense at all."

"Makes sense to me. It'd make sense to most hunters. We've all been there one way or another. Trouble is, none of us talk about it. We just… suffer our losses, then go out and fight some more." Ellen leaned in and pressed kiss on Rachel's forehead. "Don't do that. Talk about what happened. Or how you feel. Don't just shove everything into hunting."

She smiled wryly. "I'll try not to. And maybe at some point, I'll remember enough to actually talk about it." She shook her head and said, "I'll tell you one thing, though. When we finally find that yellow-eyed bastard, I think I have a pretty good claim to the honor of killing him."

Ellen laughed. "That you do, baby girl. That you do. Now, your husband and the rest are upstairs eating. Better head on up before they get into trouble."

"Nathan's here. They're already in trouble."

Despite her foreboding, Nathan was doing nothing more than drinking beer and flirting like mad with Sam, Ash, and Jo by the time Rachel made it upstairs. They had a bunch of clippings spread out on the table in front of them, and were occasionally referencing them in between what Rachel assumed was witty repartee. She was too tired to really tell.

A quick glance around showed Dean in the corner, nursing a beer.

She grabbed a soda from the fridge and went to him. "You okay?" she asked, sitting on his lap.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired." He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. "Ash said he thinks he can find a job for us. Skip going to Bobby's. Unless you had your heart set on it."

"I don't care. A job sounds fine. Bobby's is fine." She opened her soda and took a drink. "I really don't have an opinion."

"You not have an opinion? You once talked forty-five minutes straight about why Mr. Pib was a crime against nature." He kissed her forehead. "You don't sound okay."

"I'm just tired."

"Maybe." He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. "You want to go to bed? Get some sleep?""

"Too tired to sleep. And it's too loud here. And I don't want to be alone, don't want to be in the dark."

"What do you want to do? I mean, we could grab Sam and Nathan and keep going to Bobby's. We can drive through the night, if that's what you want."

Tears pressed behind her eyelids as she squeezed them shut. "I don't know what I want, Dean. Besides to go back in time and avoid all this."

He squeezed her, rubbing his face against hers. "Why don't we get outta here for a little bit. Just you and me. Take the car and go."

It took a moment for her to work past the lump in her throat. "Where'd we go?"

"Who cares? You, me, some beer. Soda for you, since you're a freak. We could just get out of here. Watch the stars or whatever."

She let out a long sigh. "Yeah," she whispered. "That sounds perfect."

They slipped out the back, grabbing drinks and food as they left. They ran around the bar, hand in hand, grinning like idiots. Rachel felt better than she had in days, lighter. Almost carefree. It wasn't the first time she and Dean had run from reality to steal a few hours to themselves, and the familiarity of it was a kind of comfort. The sneaking, though, gave it a kind of thrill.

The drove until the Roadhouse was miles behind them. The drove until they found an empty lot, overgrown with weeds, dusty with dirt, and littered with parts of cars, old wooden boards, and tree stumps.

Dean cut the engine and looked over at her. She met his eyes and smiled. A small smile of gratitude for him understanding what she'd needed, of acknowledgement that this place was, if not perfect, at least good.

He squeezed her thigh and then moved, grabbing his beer as he got out of the car. She did the same and they climbed onto the hood. Interlaced their fingers, shoulders and thighs pressing together. They cracked open their drinks and… sat. Rachel's head on Dean's shoulder, a cool wind caressing tendrils of hair over their faces.

This far in the middle of nowhere, the sounds of civilization were nonexistent. The air was full of crickets and the rustling of animals as they rooted through the grass. The wind. Dean breathing.

Peaceful.

Dean had been right. This was what she needed. It wasn't a permanent fix—nothing would ever permanently fix her—but she needed to be away. Away from people, both those she didn't know and those she loved. Just… away. With her best friend.

It was perfect.

Dean lifted his beer to his mouth. Took a long drink, probably draining half the can. Rachel took a sip of her soda. She'd tried to like beer. Had tried many times, up to the point of drinking too many and being thoroughly sick. In the end, she had to admit that she just didn't like the taste. So, she stuck to soda.

He lowered his beer and set it on the hood of the car next to him. "No stars. I wonder if there's a storm coming."

"I like summer storms."

Dean laughed and said, "Summer storms out here can be a little more dangerous than those sissy storms back East."

Rachel's head fell back as she let out a full throated laugh. "Sissy storms. That your way of saying I'm weak? Because I was raised on sissy storms?"

He squeezed her hand. "You're not weak. Despite not growing up on manly storms."

She laughed again. "Not that you're wrong, but this doesn't feel like it's going to be a huge deal. Just some rain."

"That's how it starts. Some rain. Some lightning. Thunder. And then, bang. You need a canoe to cross the street."

"Well, do you have a canoe?"

Dean grinned and nodded. "I keep it in the trunk."

"Must be a tiny canoe, then. Or is it one of those little blow up raft?"

"Had one when I was a kid. We were staying in this real small town. There was a lake. That summer, we actually spent more time hanging out at the lake, just swimming and messing around, then… anything else. Dad hardly hunted at all." His voice was far away. Dean lifted his beer and took another drink.

"I like the ocean," Rachel said. Leaned her head on Dean's shoulder again. "It's wild. Never ends. We had a cabin…" Her voice faltered. "Um. On the beach. We'd go there in the summer. It was fun."

"Parents still have it?"

"I think so."

"We can go," but Rachel was shaking her head before the words were out of his mouth.

"I uh… I wanna work," she said, looking at him. "I need to be busy right now. I think that'd be best."

Dean nodded. "I'm all for that." He leaned over and kissed her softly.

All at once, the clouds ripped open and dumped a torrent of rain, soaking them almost instantly.

"Guess that answers that question," Dean shouted over the pounding.

Rachel laughed and tilted her head back. Opened her mouth as she kicked off her shoes. "You were right about it not being a sissy storm," she said, sliding off the car.

"What are you doing?"

She raised her hands up to sky and twirled around in a circle. "I love the rain! This is great!" She did a pirouette. Almost fell into the mud but caught herself in time. She couldn't stop grinning.

Dean laughed. A gentle, amused laughed. One of his, "My wife is insane," laughs that she'd gotten used to hearing.

She heard him climb off the car, but he didn't join her. She wasn't sure what he was doing, actually. She'd stopped twirling for the moment and was pulling her hair into a ponytail. They'd need to head back now. Probably. They were soaked. She was wearing jeans. Jeans chafed.

She didn't want to go yet.

Suddenly, an electric guitar wailed. A slow drum joined it. Sensually, the music wound through the air, drawing her attention.

Rachel turned.

Dean was pulling away from the Impala. Walking towards her. He caught he around the waist and pulled her tight against his body. One hand slid up her back and worked the elastic out of her hair, The other stayed around her waist, guiding her as they swayed to the music.

Her stomach clenched and heat rose to her cheeks. Fingers grasped at his wet tee shirt. She leaned her head against his shoulder, standing on her toes to make up the height. He smelled like sweat and rain and skin. He smelled like leather and beer and just Dean.

I've really been the best, the best of fools, I did what I could, yeah/'Cause I love you, baby, How I love you, darling, How I love you, baby,/ I'm in love with you, girl, little girl.

"Dean," Rachel sighed. She ran her hand up his back. To his neck, threading her fingers into his short hair. "This is not you. I mean… dancing in the rain?" She looked up at him. "Not that I don't like it."

"You were gone for two weeks," he said hoarsely. "I thought… I've been expecting you leave, to disappear, ever since I woke up in the hospital with a ring on my finger. I swore that, if I got you back, I'd do it all right. All that romance crap. Stuff. Dancing in the rain and the wedding with family. You in a dress and me in a tux. Whatever you wanted. Whatever I needed to do so you'd stay, I'd do."

Her eyes filled with tears. "Dean," she whispered. Tears mingled on her face with raindrops. "Dean, you don't need to do anything. I'm not going to leave. I love you."

"Rach…"

She stopped what he was going to say, kissing him. Holding him, mouth working against his. Her whole body was shaking as she poured everything she was into him, wanting him to believe in her. Needing him to believe.

"I swear," she whispered when the broke apart. "I swear I will never willing leave your side. You're my husband." Her mouth quirked. "For better or for worse."

"No more worse," he replied. "Please. No more."

"I can live with that." She raised up on her toes again. Kissed him.

The kiss started gentle, but then caught fire. Grew more intense, more passionate. Tongues twining together and teeth nipping. Hands moving over each other and then Dean lifted her. Rachel wrapped her legs around Deans waist and clung to him, kissing over his face, nibbling at his ear and down his neck as Dean moved to the car. Pushed her up against it.

His breath was hot against her neck. Mouth and tongue traced trails of fire over her skin. Pulled at the collar of sopping tee, kissing whatever he could.

Rachel pulled her arms from around Dean. Rucked up her shirt, pulling it over her head and letting it fall. Then she clawed at Dean's shirt. Together, they managed to get it off him without her falling.

His hips pushed against hers, hard bulge grinding against her, sending sparks flaring behind her eyelids. It wasn't enough; there was too much fabric between them, too many layers. She writhed against him, tightening her legs, but it wasn't enough.

Rachel's head fell back. Clunked against the roof of the car. "Dean," she groaned, pain and pleasure twining through her body. "Inside."

"Not yet."

Laughter bubbled up her throat. "I meant the car." She found the door handle. Pulled it.

"Right. Right." He pulled her away. Yanked open the door, and together they tumbled inside. Rachel hit her head against the window, but didn't feel it. "God, I missed you," he murmured against her shoulder. Hands shaking, he pulled her bra straps down her arms. Trailed his fingertips around her body and unhooked.

Rachel gasped as Dean explored her. His fingers traced her skin, raising goose bumps. His tongue lapped at her, mouth sucked. Her body was awash with sensations. The heat of Dean's mouth. The coldness of the raindrops that fell from Dean's hair. Smoothness of his lips. The rough texture of his fingertips.

He kissed his way down her stomach. Smoothly undid her jeans and struggled to pull them off her legs. He didn't look up to see if it was okay, didn't ask if she was all right with this, and Rachel was deeply, profoundly grateful. She appreciated everyone's concern. But right now, she didn't want Dean to be concerned. She wanted him to just be there.

His breath was hot on her underwear. He licked along the waistband, then drew them down. Tossed them into the front of the car and drew her legs over his shoulder.

"Oh," Rachel gasped as his mouth pressed against her. She clenched her teeth together, one hand slapping back against the window. Her hips rolled as Dean explored her, his tongue probing her. Teasing her.

Sweat broke out over her body. Wind blew through the open door. She shivered. Groaned loudly. Her entire body shuddered as she came. "Dean," she panted. "Dean. Dean." Tears spilled from her eyes.

"Shh," he soothed. He crawled up her body and covered her with his. Smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead. "Still with me, babe?"

"Yeah." She hadn't cried during sex since the first time they'd been together. She'd be embarrassed, but there was understanding in Dean's eyes. A look there that reflected the way she was feeling.

Her hands trembled as she reached down and fumbled with his belt. Together, they pulled it open. Pushed his jeans over his hips. He had to sit up so he could remove his shoes, then wiggle out of the jeans, but then he was back. Mouth on hers, hand behind her neck, cradling her. Protecting her.

He slid inside with a gentle exhale. A groan, eyes closed, forehead against hers. "God, baby. Rachel"

Rachel wrapped her legs around his waist. "Kiss me before I start babbling." She smoothed her fingertips over his face.

"You know I love it when you babble." He moved his hips.

Her breath hitched. "Dean. Dean, please. Move, please." Her hands tightened on his shoulders.

He started to move. Pleasure raced up Rachel's spine. She arched her back. Move her hips in tandem with his, hands caressing his hair, his neck, his shoulders. Kissing him and holding him close as they moved. The car rocked. Sweat beaded on Dean's forehead. Slid down his back. The anxiety and tension and worry of the past weeks melted away, banished, at least for the moment, as they rediscovered one another.

Every nerve was on fire as they moved. Every bit of her tingled. Her groin felt hot and tight. A shivery sensation moved up her stomach.

Dean shifted, somehow managing to slide further into the car. Without pulling apart, he maneuvered onto his back. Shifted her on top of him.

Rachel pushed herself up on his chest. Rolled her hips. Her hair hung over her shoulders. Dean ran his hands through them. Down her shoulders. He cupped her breasts, flicking her nipples.

Pleasure swirled up through her. Her head spun and she moved faster on top of him. "Dean," she whispered, not realizing she was saying anything. "Please."

He gripped her hips. Pushed into her as she rode on him, faster and harder with each thrust.

She felt him stiffen under her. His mouth fell open and his hands tightened as he came. Rachel reached down and rubbed herself, so close to the edge that she fell over with just a few touches. She cried out, eyes squeezed shut. Shudders ran through her body.

Still trembling, she lay down. Rested her head on Dean's shoulder and closed her eyes.

She wasn't sure how much time passed before Dean stirred. Kissed her on the forehead and moved her off him.

Rachel kept her eyes closed, listening to his movements. He climbed out of the car. Rooted through the trunk. The car rocked as he climbed back in, closing the door behind him. His legs moved on either side of her body. He pulled her up and against his body, then covered her with a blanket.

She opened her eyes and rolled onto her stomach. Propped herself over Dean and gazed down at him.

He looked at her. Rubbed his fingers up and down her back. Up her neck and into her hair.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

She smiled. Ran her fingers down his collarbone. "I'm okay."

"Not for good."

"Well, no. But I'm okay." She grinned. "And that was fantastic."

"Of course it was." Dean kissed her. "It was us." He took her hand. Kissed her fingertips. "Let's get wedding rings. As soon as we hit the next town." He rubbed her left ring finger, which still felt so naked without her ring.

She smiled. "I'd like that. Something we both pick out."

"Unless you think… I mean, we said… Look. Do you really want a real wedding? Fancy dress and a priest and all your relatives and stuff? The whole… thing?"

Rachel shook her head slowly, watching him carefully. They'd talked about it for so long, but her heart has never really been in it. But if Dean wanted one…

But he smiled, looking… not relieved, just settled. "Me neither. Not really. We're married, right? We're together and family and neither of us are going anywhere."

"We don't need to add ceremony to that," Rachel said. She ran her fingers down Dean's cheek and said, "What we have is real. We don't need anyone else to make it more real for us."

"Exactly." He pulled her down and kissed her softly. "So. Matching rings."

"Let's get them engraved."

"With what?"

Rachel shrugged. Bit her lip. "Dunno." She tilted her head to the side, thinking. And then it came to her. "The life I wanted," she said, bringing back the conversation they'd had after their first time.

His brow furrowed before understanding dawned. A smile slid over his face, lighting him from within. "The life I wanted. It's perfect." He pulled her down and kissed her. "Never disappear on me like that again. Got it?"

"Yeah," Rachel whispered. She rested her forehead against his. "I got it."

Three Months Later

"Bandages?" Sam said.

Rachel pulled a few boxes off the shelf and tossed it into the cart. "Check."

"Rubbing alcohol."

"Check."

"Ice."

"Check. Icy-heat stuff, check. Ace bandages, check. I know we need more thread for stitches and more needles. Oh, and toothpaste and toilet paper."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You know bathrooms usually come stocked with that."

"Don't you know anything about your boyfriend, Sam?" Rachel asked sweetly. "He needs his own roll of toilet paper when using public facilities."

"He's not my boyfriend," he mumbled, blushing.

"That hickey on your neck says otherwise. Oh, and I need shampoo." She grabbed a few more first-aid supplies from the shelf, then pushed the cart down the aisle. "Speaking of, how about condoms and lube?"

"Rachel!" Sam yelped as they passed two little kids. His face was a scarlet flame.

Rachel just rolled her eyes. "Like they understood that. And if they did, who cares? It's just a question. For all they and their parents know, it's for us. We are shopping together."

"Why does that always happen again? We're always the ones on stock-up duty."

"That's because Dean is a weasel and Nathan is a junior weasel. And I don't trust them to do the shopping anyway. Don't know why you always tag along."

Sam shrugged. "Just used to it, I guess. Before you, I did all the shopping. Oh, hey. You need any…" He trailed off and gestured to the feminine needs aisle as they passed.

"No, I'm good. I still have… lots." Her voice died. She stopped, suddenly cold. Suddenly freezing and her palms were sweating and heart pounded and she was going to throw up.

"Rachel?" Sam said, hand on her elbow. His voice was very far away through the sudden cotton filling her ears. "You okay?"

How? How had she not realized? How…

"Rachel!"

She blinked. Swallowed and looked up at Sam. "I'm pregnant." And then, she realized she'd misjudged what her body was doing. She didn't throw up. Instead, she passed out.

Fin


A/N That's it for this fic. There will be more coming. Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!

The song is Since I've Been Loving You by Led Zeppelin