Chapter 6

John waded through his life for a whole week. Liz was cool towards him after those few kisses they'd shared. Dean had spent the week in Mary-land. Drawing pictures of the family. Drawing pictures of the family plus Jim. Odd comments on if Mary would even like Liz because Liz was a waitress. Or because Liz was weird because she didn't remember anything. John put it down to the high fever that Dean had had. Maybe he had thought it was his mother holding him all day instead of Liz. Maybe he had wanted it to be his mother instead of Liz.

There was work at the garage. Tedium. Researching with Jim. Led nowhere. Playing with the boys… and feeling empty despite it. Liz worked all week. She had maybe one meal with them. She had to work though Dean's weekly family luncheon at school. Even Dean had missed her at that one. He would have been hard pressed to admit it, that one, but he did. Liz always brought pie with her to the cafeteria. Always brought Dean's favorite. Always asked about how many times the teacher called on Dean. Always asked how many times he got the right answer. Despite Dean's bravado and machismo, he was always eager to tell her how smart he was and to listen to her stroke his little ego afterwards.

Sammy woke asking for "Yiz" and then he went to bed asking for "Yiz" and John had to echo the sentiment. Jim had made the odd comment here and there about her absence; may have passed on that a concerned parishioner had expressed worries that Liz might be hanging out at that biker bar across the tracks. The same bar owned by Stan, who John had once punched out because he felt like a fight. Who was brother to Angela, Liz's boss and John's number one fan. So come Sunday afternoon, John was full of worries about having made the wrong move on her. About what it had meant, if it had meant anything. John honestly hadn't felt this way since he was 17. Before the war. Before going steady with Mary. Those memories didn't help matters.

After lunch, Jim took the boys to town for cookies. Liz lounged in the den with the newspaper. John just watched her read for the longest time. Her shirt fell off the shoulder like the girls on Mtv. He didn't watch that crap but Dean sure tried. Difference was, Liz wore layers so her whole shoulder wasn't exposed. Somehow made it less… trashy. Her hair was growing out but he suspected that she was going to trim it back soon. Grabbing their jackets, he moved to stand over her. "Feel like a walk?"

Liz tilted her head at him and glanced outside. "Sure."

She let him help her into her jacket. He led the way. A stroll in Minnesota autumn. The park was empty. Everyone else at home watching the game. Having Sunday dinners. They walked in silence for a very long time. Then Liz grinned up at him. "I think I'm not used to seeing such colorful falls. I… the way I feel when I look up at all these trees with all these colors… I just… want to roll in a big pile of leaves like a kid."

John glanced around. "There's a big pile. Right over there. I promise I won't tell the boys."

She bit her lip then turned and ran, turned a cartwheel and landed on her back in the middle of the pile, laughing like a madwoman. Then she saw the tallest Winchester towering over her. He hauled her back to her feet but he didn't let go. Pulled her to him and let out a deep breath. She tilted her head at him in an unspoken question.

"Am I… too old to do this?" he asked her. She grinned and bit her lip but shook her head. "What's so funny?"

"Dean thinks you are."

"What does Dean know about what I'm talking about?"

She giggled and slid her hands up his arms. "Your son is a 26 year old mind in a 6 year old body."

John had to admit to that. He rolled his eyes and fixed his gaze off in the distance where there was nothing but trees. Orange and yellow and brown. Then in sharp focus a tree stood out; young and struggled amidst the older trees. "Wait. Dean's been talking to you about my love life?"

Liz burst out laughing. "He's part pit bull." Then she sobered up as a thought bloomed in her mind. "I'm not sure who he's more afraid for… you or him."

Took a moment to absorb her words and then to look her over. "You been hiding this week?" She didn't answer. Her eyebrows bounced once, her bottom lip tucked in. "From me?" No answer. "I do something wrong the night Dean was sick? Maybe I read something wrong?" Still, no answer. She pulled away and walked slowly down the path to a bench between two trees. She scooted back until she was flush against one tree, giving room for John to sit on the other end. He stared at her. "Just tell me if I got it wrong." Her only answer was to rest her foot on his leg. "Is this one of those women games? I gotta tell you, I'm really bad at these things."

"So, what are you good at?" Liz cleared her throat.

"Cars."

"You always liked cars?"

"I guess." He shrugged. "My dad was a mechanic. His dad. My dad's uncles… just something in the blood, I guess."

"You like your car?"

"I love my car." He grinned.

"How did you get your car?"

John turned to straddle the bench, scooting closer. "I was… uh… just home from the war. I had big plans. Buy a ring. Buy a car. Get the girl. Settle down."

"The war?" She frowned.

His smile faltered. "I was… sniper corp. in the Marines. I served in Vietnam." She shook her head. "Best left in the past." She nodded that she agreed. "Anyway… I had these plans with Mary and we agreed that I would buy a VW bus. We'd run away and live in the bus and raise our kids in it…"

"Okay… obviously, you didn't get the bus." She led him on.

"Funny thing happened… Met some man in a diner back home. He was a mess when he walked in. I bought him a cup of coffee. I guess I woke him up. He had that look to him. I'd seen it on men come back from the war. Spent their nights drinking and fighting and their days wishing it were night so they could drink and fight." His eyes went far away for a moment. "Guys like that don't sleep much and when they do… They're in hell. I was just trying to warm him up. Get him some caffeine to get him on to night. Well, I was closing the deal on the bus when he walks up and shows me the Impala sitting next to the bus… I had been eying it for a while but… a car like that is a lot of work. He spat out a bunch of stuff I already knew about its beating heart and I was crunching the numbers. Saw the back seat. Room enough for a couple to fool around in." She giggled and he laid a hand on her calf, scooting himself under it. Not so subtle. "Or to stow a couple of kids in." he let out a slow breath. "I'd worked on monsters like that one all my life. Other people's cars. I didn't have much but Uncle Sam saw to it that I could afford it. I had plans. What kind of customers does a mechanic attract if he drives a beat up bus?"

"So you bought the Impala."

"I did and Mary said she wasn't pissed… She was pissed." His eyes went dark for a moment but then bounced right back. Right there. Liz understood right in that look what Mary had seen in John. The hope. Despite everything there was still room for hope. "Dean loves the car. More than I do, I think. He learns every little thing I teach him about it. When we work on it together… I can see his little hands itching to take the tools to it."

"Well, he wants to be just like his daddy." She teased lightly, fighting the urge to move her leg even a fraction in invitation. She had spit shook on it. She wasn't going to make the choice for John.

"In a lot of ways maybe."

"You think there's even a single way that he doesn't want to be like you?"

His hands moved on their own, from her jean-clad shins to her thighs, pulling himself along, finally gripping her hips and pulling her right on top of his thighs. "Well, I know for a fact that he does not want to be close to you. Don't take it personal. He has this thing about girls and cooties. He made me get a cootie shot after last week. Wouldn't say why."

"I think he might have seen a little more than he let on that night." She rested the backs of her hands against his chest. She wanted to grip him and hold him to her but… she had made that little bastard a promise and she was going to keep it.

His tongue swept over his bottom lip. "How much?"

"Some." Her eyes followed the movement but she held her tongue still. She would not do it. It was low and desperate and she would not do it.

Then his nose nudged hers. Would not do it. And his lips brushed hers softly. It was barely a kiss. It didn't count. "Like that?"

"Maybe something like that." Neither one moved for the longest moment. John didn't say a word and it unnerved her. "John?"

"Liz… you're shivering." Her eyes popped open to those hazel question marks. "Why won't you touch me?"

Every thought that popped into her head was an invitation. An innuendo. A plea for him to touch her more. Had to stay perfectly still so that she could not be accused of making the first move. Their position be damned, she hadn't invited this. She had just let it happen. Let his warm hands wander over her body like she was a statue. The sigh floated out of her body before she could stop it.

Then his lips came crashing down on hers. Her move. Sliding her arms around his neck, she scooted closer, their chests flush together and a groan rumbling out of his throat. His hands slid down her back and cupped her bottom, pulling her closer and then they were falling. Off the bench and into the leaves piled up. Making out like a couple of teens in the middle of the park.

She had felt his hand slide up the back of her shirt, over the tank top… coasting up her ribs and cupping her breast. As good as that felt, there was the simple matter of their public setting. Pulling away for air, Liz sat up, John's hand falling down to her hip once more. "How long until Jim's back with the boys?"

--

Not long was the answer. When Liz and John stumbled in the back door with leaves still in their hair and clothes, the boys were already back and on a sugar high. Pastor Jim leaned in a doorway. "John, your boys are killing me."

Then Sammy ran streaking by. John scooped him up and looked him over. "Where are your clothes?" Nothing but giggles from the boy. "Dean!"

Dean skidded to a stop in front of his father. "Sammy took all off by himself. I told him no but then he started running and I couldn't catch him and Pastor Jim couldn't catch him. And that's when you came home."

John sent a weary look to Liz, who nodded. "Okay boys, upstairs. It's nap time."

"I'm too old for naps."

"Then it's quiet time for you."

TBC