AU: (This is a relatively lemony chapter, so don't like, don't read. But it gets even more graphic in a chapter or so. You have been warned)

Fucking cocktease…

Dean stared spitefully across the table at Lory, who was beaming down at a magazine. She broke for a brief, innocent smile-

Too innocent.

And resumed her reading.

The past week had proved much slower for Dean than the natural laws of time would actually allow. Painfully so. He hadn't fucked in over two and a half months, and Lory wasn't giving him any play. Coyly, she would allow him to steal a peck when she thought no one was watching (though Sam always was) and swat him away every time he touched her too intimately. For the first day or so, Dean found this amusing- arousing- but it very quickly grew old. What was briefly a tantalizing game of "hard-to-get" had become hard to stomach. He'd grown irritable, like a moody child. All it took was a question or a summons to send him snapping off. The only things that could even slightly soothe him were his tunes, a few cold beers, and even colder showers. Casa Erotica was futile. He didn't want a busty chicana. He wanted Lory- and it was torturing him.

Sam enjoyed observing this little cat-and-mouse game. In fact, he loved it so much that it replaced his TV programs. It was quality entertainment. Dean Winchester had finally fallen stone in love- or believed that he was stone in love. It wasn't with some model or leggy waitress or porn-quality biker chick. It was with Dolores Fletcher of Yeadon, Pennsylvania- not even close to Dean's usual type. What's more, the object of his affections would barely let him touch her. It almost made up for the fact that Sam couldn't touch her himself.

The brothers themselves barely said more to each other than they had to. Their interactions were comprised mostly of nods and knowing glances. Sam knew that Dean was about to implode, Dean knew that Sam thoroughly enjoyed it.

The youngest Winchester would occasionally bypass (by chance, of course) a cracked door and hear the two in their hushed whispers, engaging in something along the lines of:

"Come on, baby," Dean would half-plead with that familiar husk in his voice, and Sam's gut would begin to turn with the thought of him squeezing at her before she would reply, "Dean, I told you…"

"Yeah, but you never told me why!"

"I'm a virgin, Dean," (she would always maintain her whisper), "and we just started going out."

"Either one of us could die tomorrow, Lory! Or even today! We're kind of on the brink of the Apocalypse, if you've managed to forget!"

"Dean…Don't be angry… I love you…"

"I'm not angry…" he would maintain, but always clearly was, "And I love you, too…"

You see, that was the part that Sam didn't like, because Dean was far too convincing for his taste. And then, with an audible kiss, it would be over.

Sam dreaded the close of the week. The time to leave Bobby's was swiftly approaching. It meant they were going back out into the field, and if he left them, there would be no second presence to spark inhibition into their minds- or to prevent Dean from finally slamming Lory against a wall and taking her whether she wanted to or not. This fear was not born of paranoia or jealousy. Dean was a changed man, and Sam was not the only one who could see it. Lory would sometimes turn away from eyes in a manner not unlike how he used to turn from hers. The words "I want you" coming from Dean had begun to sound like "I'm starving."

Dean didn't particularly like the change in himself either. He hated resenting someone he loved. He knew that sex should not have been that important to him, but it wasn't simply the fact that he found himself with a raging erection every few hours. He felt as though he were being reprimanded for days past, and when he had finally had her, it would mean complete forgiveness and complete trust and belief. How else could he gain those things?

None of the three members of the party could recall an earlier time where a silence could be so thick or so prominent that it seemed to have a sound of its own. The car itself was full of noise. Dean had been playing his records for the two or so hours they'd been on the road. However, none of them had spoken since Lory's "Where are we going?" Dean's "Trevose, Maryland." and her "Oh." an hour and fifty minutes ago.

"I have to use the bathroom," Sam declared, even though he really didn't have to.

"All right."

Dean pulled over on the side of the highway. Sam wasn't too worried. They couldn't do much in ten minutes on the side of the road in broad daylight. A few moments of solitude (real solitude, not being stuck in a car with two other people and not saying anything) would do him more good than anyone could imagine. He had tramped out of eyeshot of the car, and soon, earshot, and he was finally at peace.

Well, I'm out here, might as well…

So he felt like less of a liar, and because he had a couple of bottles of water, Sam proceeded to pee. He sighed, basking in the wave of serenity that could only be afforded to someone relieving himself amongst the sound of the crickets and the rest of God's woodland creatures beneath a canopy of leaves. He readied himself to return.

"Shake it three times, and you're playing with yourself."

He jumped at the female voice.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, fumbling to sort himself away.

"Relax, Sam. I've already seen it. Five times, now?"

"Ruby, Christ- what are you doing here?"

"Are you disappointed that it wasn't the Pillsbury Dough Girl?" she said, poking out her lip facetiously.

"Leave her alone," he grunted.

"I'm just kidding, Sam, jeez. She's cute. In a bloated sort of way."

"Well, she can't hijack other peoples' bodies like you can, so I guess that puts her at a disadvantage."

"Protective, protective…" She sauntered over to him "You know I could borrow her for a couple hours if that'd turn you on… Nobody'll know…"

"You're sick, do you know that?" Sam spat, turning his back to her.

"Well, you fuck me and guzzle my blood- what does that make you?"

"Bye, Ruby."

He trudged in the general direction of the car before she halted him.

"She doesn't give a goddamn about you, Sam! Do you think she would really choose you over Dean?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" he grunted dismissively.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Sam! Girls like her want guys like him- shitbags that are terrible for them- solely because they're tired of being good. And girls like me- that have been used and abused their entire existence- need guys like you."

Sam scoffed, shaking his head slightly.

"You're a demon, Ruby. Not a girl."

"I was girl enough when you were fucking me, Sam," she said in a voice like fire, "or have you forgotten? What? Do you want me to pretend to be a sweet, innocent virginal little angel for you? Huh?"

"Ruby stop-"

But she kept going, grabbing his hands, forcing them to her breasts, over her sides and hips.

"Oh, Sam, I've never done this before! Please, be gentle!"

"Ruby, cut it-"

But her mouth clamped on his, probing his mouth with her tongue, and her legs wrapped around his waist.

"Fuck me, Sam…"

Fuck me, Sam…

"Fuck me right now. I know you want to."

Take me now, Sam…

His mind and body had finally become detached. He was in the forest, stroking, caressing, kissing, and thrusting against Ruby, but yet he was in a different place with a completely different person. He had no recollection of removing his clothes or Ruby's, but they were both completely bare, and she was making her way down the ripples in his stomach with her lips and tongue, headed straight for a member that twitched violently, but not at all for her.

But you and Dean-

"Ohhhh fuck!"

With closed eyes, he couldn't tell the difference between the women. Lory's lips would have been softer and fuller, and he always imagined it to be inordinately warm, but he wasn't complaining at all.

"Shit…Suck it, baby…"

Ruby needed no instruction. She enjoyed this part of their romps because of her hold upon him. He was hers indefinitely.

I don't love Dean…

"I love you, Sam."

I love you, Sam. I've always loved you…

"I love you too, Lory…"

The words were just loud enough. If Ruby had been just a little bit more engrossed in her work, she may not have even noticed. Then all at once, the sensation stopped. There was an empty chill upon him and his eyes popped open. No one was there. Neither Lory nor Ruby.

"Shit…" he sighed to himself.

He was more so disappointed that the closest experience to making love to Lory was just cut abruptly than anything else.

"SHIT, DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK!?"

Dean's arms were thrown over his face as the sight of Sam's naked body was enough to blind him.

"No wonder you were taking so long! What the hell is the matter with you? Get dressed and let's go!" Dean shouted over his shoulder without looking over his shoulder, trudging back toward the car, mumbling (but Sam could hear), "Fucking pervert…Dad would flip a fucking shit…"

When Sam returned, Dean must have already erased the traumatic image from his mind as a mental-defense-mechanism, because he simply turned to him nonchalantly and asked, "Ready?"

"Yep."

Sam turned around and looked briefly over his shoulder at Lory.

"Hi," she smiled sweetly but still slightly awkwardly.

Does she know?

And then it clicked.

Shit… Psychic…

"Hi."