Well-aged Like Swiss Cheese
Chapter 3: Work-out and Make-out
Susan undressed in front of a full-bodied mirror. The mirror was oval and antique-looking. When adjusted correctly, her full figure could just be seen in the mirror. Full-figure minus her feet. She wiggled her toes in the carpet and adjusted the mirror so they were hidden from view. She unbuttoned her long sleeved shirt and let it drop to the floor. She slipped her pants off and stared at herself in the mirror. Staring back at her, was her imperfect reflection with its head cocked to the side.
She often spent time staring at her reflection in this manner. She wasn't vein and she wasn't admiring her beauty. She stared at the scar that started at her belly button and waved itself around her side and in-between her shoulder blades, ending at the back of her neck. It was a reminder why she couldn't trust other hunters and just how deadly hunting could be. She blinked her eyes as one loan tear dropped from her eyelash and landed with an inaudible splash on the carpet. She quickly dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt and began her research. By morning's light Susan had decided the Winchesters would do just fine.
Sam sat in the passenger seat researching the victim while Dean watched the window. "Hey!" Dean elbowed his brother with a 14 year-old boy grin spread across his face. "Wonder if she realizes she's in front of the window.
Sam looked up and saw Susan's shadow finish undressing. "Dean. Stop being a pervert."
"Hey you looked too." Dean smirked. "Makes you a perv too."
"Whatever! You tricked me into looking. That does not count." Sam went back to his computer.
A few hours later, Dean was asleep leaning on the steering wheel and Sam came across some interesting information. He woke Dean up just before sun raise.
"Her mom is locked up tight in an asylum for the criminally insane. Supposedly, she claims her husband drain the blood of Susan's sister and then attacked her. She spent most of her life trying to find and kill him. She's been there for the last 5 years. It would appear that she has quite the rap sheet. Attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, grave robbery, destruction of a national monument….wow, there's a lot here. It would seem she was caught a bit outside of Dallas when she attempted to set off a bomb at a fundraiser. She claimed it was raising money to feed vampires. Guess what the fundraiser was for."
"I'm way too tired for games, Sam. What?"
"The blood bank."
"I knew there was something familiar about Susan. She's like us. But why didn't she tell us she was a hunter?" Dean was still a bit drowsy. "Were you up all night?"
"We can ask her soon enough. She's not slept all night." Sam nodded toward Susan's office window. "I'm guessing she's trying to find out what happened to her sister."
"Do you think there's anything to this father becomes Twilight story her mom's been telling?" Dean watched Susan pace the floor.
"I don't think we're in a position to question the story. I mean, with everything we've seen." Sam shrugged, "everyone gets into hunting for one reason or another. And most of the time it's not for the fun of it."
"Good point. I think we should question the mom. You want old mom or young hottie?" Dean held up his hands balancing an invisible scale. "Old mom," his left hand dropped and right one elevated. "Good call. I always knew you had mommy issues." Dean winked and got out of the car before Sam could reply.
"I dunno know why he even asked," Sam shook his head started the Impala.
Dean crossed the road to the apartment. For a hunter, Susan lived in style. She lived in an old railroad building that had been remodeled into lofts. They were overpriced and built for the young and trendy. The sidewalk had large potted plants in front with a few sparse small trees. The door had a buzzer on the left and quickly found her apartment number. A young professional-looking couple left the building allowing Dean to slip into the marbled lobby. The front desk was empty. Dean let himself on the elevator.
Dean knocked on Susan door several times with no answer. Inside he could hear some grunting and scuffling noises. "Susan, it's me Dean. Dean Winchester." He paused, waited. Listened. "Are you ok?"
Still no response. Concerned, he pulled out his gun and tried the handle. Unlocked, my lucky day! He pushed the door open, gun at the ready.
Susan round-kicked a large punching bag hanging from the ceiling, as she landed she saw Dean standing in her doorway with a gun pointed at her sofa. She pulled out her ear buds and shut off her Ipod. "What is wrong with you guys? Do you seriously not know how to knock?"
Slightly embarrassed Dean stumbled over his words "Well, I, um….heard shuffling….you weren't answering….and well…" He shrugged.
"Shut the damn door and put away the gun before any of my neighbors see you." She hissed.
Dean swung the door shot and put his gun away. "So….ummm…you work out much?" He flashed a smile.
"What 'a think?" She rolled her eyes and nodded to the other side of the bag. "You think you can hold while I hit?"
"Of course! You are just a girl, after all." He walked over and held the punching bag. Susan started lightly punching the bag. Dean evened out his stance to be able to absorb stronger punches.
She gave the bag a dozen punch and kick combo's and then held the bag for Dean.
"What? You want me to hit it?" Dean frowned.
"Yeah…What's the problem?"
"You're a girl. I don't hit girls."
"You're not hitting me, you're hitting the bag. Big difference." She steadied the bag. "Now hit it….Come 'on, it helps to relieve some stress."
Dean lightly hit the bag. "There ya' happy now? I hit the bag?"
"No I'm not. Lay into it. Or have you never used a punching bag before?" She pushed the bag toward him. He shoved it back. She shoved it to him. He hit it back. She steadied the bag; Dean took off his jacket, and started punching the bag. Really hitting it. Susan widened her stance. This does feel good.
He then let her take a turn. She started hitting and kicking the bag harder. One particular kick/punch combo caused Dean to los his balance. They took turns taking out their life's frustrations on the lifeless bag. Each time, their hits got harder and harder. This continued until Dean grunted and kicked the bag as if he were kicking in a door. The force slammed Susan onto the floor and slid her backwards several feet.
Dean rushed over, "Oh my God! I'm so sorry. I got a bit…." His words were cut-off as she roughly grabbed him by his grey shirt and pulled him down to her. She kissed him hard. Dean confused but quickly relaxed into the kiss. His hands holding his chest barely off hers. His lips quickly ran passionately down Susan's cheek and nuzzled into her neck. She sighed and laid back onto the floor. Dean's body matched her movement; his hands freely roamed her body. First on the thigh and then, followed her figure along the outside of her t-shirt and cupped her perfectly, shaped breast. He kissed down her chin, to her clavicle and landed on her cleavage. Susan's head leaned back in enjoyment.
Dean's hand ran back down her stomach and lifted up her t-shirt revealing her firm waist, and the scar. "What the Hell?" Dan and Sam said simultaneously. Susan quickly pulled her shirt over her stomach and scooted herself back as Dean sheepishly stood-up.
"Jesus! Don't any of you knock?" Susan jumped up and walked toward the shower. Over her shoulder, "I'd invite you Dean, but big, baby brother seems a bit jealous." She slapped Sam on the butt as she walked by.
Sam jumped and walked toward Dean, "Jesus! I leave you alone for two hours and your making it with her". He gestured toward Susan as she entered her room.
"I can still hear you! At least wait until you hear the water running before you scold him."
Author's Note: This story is shaping up to be mostly from Susan's point of view. Please let me know what you think of the story. Would you prefer for the story perspective to switch and be more from the brother's perspective. Feedback always appreciated. Thanks for reading!