Chapter Thirty-Five
Amie sat quietly as Dean and Sam put on their jackets and walked out the door. She was extremely uncomfortable sitting across from Castiel, alone. Especially since she was the reason the angel had found him.
"I am not angry that Katarina took me," Castiel said to her as Dean pulled the door closed. Amie wondered briefly if he could read her mind, despite no longer being an angel.
"Really?" Amie was surprised. "I thought you'd be."
Castiel smiled gently at her. "No. Not if she can help me to get my grace back. And you had no way of knowing she would take me. It wasn't your fault."
Amie grimaced, her heart literally aching. "Dean thinks it is," she whispered, her voice breaking.
"Is he angry with you?" Castiel asked.
She couldn't bring herself to speak, so she merely nodded. She felt a tear slide down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. Oh, he was angry alright.
Castiel looked toward the door, apparently lost in thought. He was quiet for a moment, before turning toward her, a curious look on his face. "Do you love him?"
Amie was slightly taken aback. Castiel was very forward, it took some getting used to. She nodded again. "Yeah, I do," she answered, staring at her hands, her fingers twisting in her lap, unsure how much to tell the former angel. She decided there was no point in lying to him. "I've loved him for a long time. Probably longer than even I realize."
"And does he love you?" he asked.
Amie laughed, almost bitterly. "I think so. He told me he does. But he's Dean, it's hard for him, you know? He's not good at sharing, or apologizing or any of that 'chick-flick-shit' as he calls it."
Castiel was nodding. "If he told you he does, than you need to believe him. Dean does not speak lightly about these things. Like you said, it's hard for him. He doesn't…well he doesn't know how to love anyone besides his brother. It is difficult for him to express himself properly."
Just then, the door opened, Dean and Sam coming back in. Dean was rubbing his hands together and blowing on them. He looked between Castiel and Amie, a curious look on his face when he realized he had interrupted them.
"Okay Cas, looks like you're gonna be our new roomie," Dean said. "But that angel-bitch, she can't even know what state the bunker is in. You need to talk to her, it's got to be far enough away that she won't figure it out."
Castiel was nodding his agreement. "I need to go speak to her. I told her I would let her know your decision. She is not far from here. I will be back soon." He started toward the door, obviously anxious to leave.
Amie figured Dean would volunteer to take Castiel wherever he needed to go, so she was surprised when Sam grabbed the car keys off of the cheap dresser.
"Hold up, Cas, I'll take you to talk to her," Sam offered. "No need to freeze to death." He tossed Castiel a sweatshirt from his bag as they went out the door.
Once Sam and Castiel were gone, Amie laid down on the bed. Her neck was killing her and the Advil she had taken wasn't helping. Even the beer she'd had didn't numb the pain. She put an arm over her eyes, blocking out the light from the bedside lamp. She could hear Dean moving around the room. She moved her arm so she could see him. He was pacing like a caged animal, fidgety, occasionally glancing at her.
"Dean?" she said, grimacing as she pulled herself to a sitting position. She was surprised her voice was as calm as it was. He stopped and looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Come here," she said, patting the bed next her.
Dean was across the room in two strides, climbing into the bed next to her. Amie cuddled up against his side, her head tucked under his chin. He put his arm around her, then planted a kiss on the top of her head. She felt him relax, the tension in his muscles melting away. They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes.
"I'm sorry," Dean finally said. "About earlier, what I said. I'm not angry with you and I don't blame you for what happened. I was just upset and worried about Cas."
She took a deep breath, intent on asking the question that had been on her mind all day. "Am I really that much of a distraction? Do I make it harder for you? Hunting, I mean." Amie asked. She was almost afraid to hear his answer.
Dean was quiet for a minute before answering. "Honestly, you do distract me. But it's because I constantly worry about you. It's not harder necessarily, I just have to remember to focus and think before I act." He kissed her head again, hugging her tighter. "If anything happens to you…."
Amie stopped his words with a kiss. "I know," she whispered.
"And you know I love you, right?" he said, his beautiful green eyes imploring her to say yes. He ran his thumb back and forth across her cheekbone, his touch gentle. "Right?" he insisted.
Amie nodded, kissing him again. She did know it. She snuggled up against him again, her head on his chest, his heart beating against her cheek.
Amie sat on a stool in the corner of the garage, flipping through the old magazine she'd found and sipping a beer. Dean was under the hood of the Impala, fiddling with something. Every now and then he'd ask her to hand him a tool from the box on the floor by her feet.
"Hey, give me that socket wrench, would you?" Dean asked, gesturing to the tool he needed.
Amie jumped off the stool and dug the tool out of the box. When she handed it to him, he took her beer as well.
Dean leaned against the fender of the car as he took a drink from the cold bottle. "You know, this is the first time we've been alone in the two days since we got back. It's getting awfully crowded around here." He raised one eyebrow at her, a smirk on his face. "Makes it hard for me to work on that list of things I'd like to do to you while you're naked." He deliberately made his voice deeper than normal as his eyes looked her up and down, his tongue sneaking out to lick his lips.
Amie leaned against him, resting one hand on his neck and the other grabbing the waistband of his jeans to pull him closer. She stood on her tiptoes so she could whisper in his ear. "I have a few things I'd like to add to that list," she murmured, rubbing herself against him.
Dean groaned, his hand clamping down on her waist. "Behave yourself," he said, his voice thick with desire. He leaned down to kiss her, but she skipped back out of his reach.
"Hmm, but that's no fun," Amie giggled. She turned and walked the length of car, trailing her hand along the roof, purposefully putting an extra wiggle in her step.
Dean suddenly grabbed her from behind, pushing her against the car. "So you think you're funny, huh?" he growled playfully. He grabbed her chin, pulling her head back against his shoulder as his tongue slid up her neck, before catching her mouth in a rough kiss. He quickly undid the button and zipper on her jeans, his hand pushing past her underwear and cupping her, one finger sliding inside, his thumb pressing and rubbing her clit.
Amie moaned into his mouth, her hips bucking against his hand, her hands scrambling for purchase on the Impala's trunk. Dean pushed his own hips against her, grinding, his breath coming faster. His mouth moved to her shoulder, biting and sucking. His other hand slid under her shirt until he found her breast. He roughly pushed her bra out of the way, his fingers seeking out the nipple, pulling and twisting until Amie was practically purring with desire. He slid another finger into her hot wet center as his hips continued grinding against her. Amie moaned louder as she felt the tension building, her knees weakening until she almost collapsed. Dean held her up, thrusting his fingers into her over and over, his thumb continuing its incessant flicking and rubbing.
"Mmmm, come on baby," Dean murmured in her ear, his voice alone pushing her closer to climax.
"Oh, God, yes," Amie gasped as the orgasm built in her, the pleasure nearly unbearable.
"Dean? Are you guys in here?" Amie heard Castiel before she saw him, his voice dragging her back to reality.
"What the fuck?" Dean swore. He rested his forehead on her shoulder. "You have got to be kidding me."
Amie heard Castiel call Dean's name again. She reluctantly pushed Dean's hand away, the moment over. She could hear his sigh of frustration, or more likely anger, as she quickly zipped and buttoned her pants. She started to move away from him, but he grabbed her, turning her to face him.
He kissed her, the desire he was still feeling evident in every thrust of his tongue. He put his hands into her back pockets and pulled her tight against him, his erection obvious behind his jeans. "Like I said, it's getting awfully fucking crowded in here," he muttered.
Amie nodded, knowing she was still too out of breath and too turned on to speak. She wrapped her arms around Dean, letting him hold her, her forehead against his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't…umm…I can come back," Castiel said when he came around the front of the Impala.
"Too late, Cas," Dean mumbled, kissing her one last time before looking at the former angel. "What's up?"
"Sam wants to talk to the two of you about Reverend Boyle. He asked me to come find you." Castiel looked expectedly at her and Dean.
Amie stepped away from Dean, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, I just need a few minutes." She hurried toward the stairs. She needed some time to collect herself and calm down.
They'd been back at the bunker for less than two days and she was already tired of Castiel. He had now interrupted her and Dean on three different occasions. Shortly after they had gotten back to the bunker, they had tried to sneak off to Dean's room to be alone, but just minutes later, Castiel has shown up, banging on the door, full of questions. Later that day, they had been alone in one of the storage rooms, on the pretense of looking for something on the crowded shelves. Instead, Dean had pulled her into a corner and they had started a rather hot and heavy make-out session. Castiel had chosen that moment to show up with a stack of papers, the angel tablet and Kevin to discuss what the prophet had discovered thus far. And now this. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was doing it on purpose.
Once she reached her room, she pushed the door closed and began unbuttoning her jeans as she crossed to the bathroom. She pushed them off and let them fall to the bathroom floor. She yanked her shirt off as well, then pulled her hair up. She turned on the shower, stepping under the cool water. She couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened in the garage between her and Dean. They needed some time alone and soon.
Amie met Dean outside the entrance to the library. She'd changed into a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, her hair falling loose around her shoulders. She smiled when she saw him.
"There you are," Dean said as he stepped away from the wall where he had been leaning. He put an arm around her waist, pulling her close and kissing her. "You look gorgeous," he said. He pushed her away slightly so he could look at her face. "You okay?"
"Mm, just frustrated," she replied. "Your best friend is kind of getting on my nerves." She pulled him back, her lips greedily seeking out his, desperate to feel him close to her. She was starting to feel like an addict who couldn't get a fix. Every time he looked at her, she felt like she was on fire.
"Oh trust me, I know," he grumbled. He grabbed her head, fingers twisting in her hair, forcing her mouth open with his tongue, equally as hungry for her as she was for him.
"Dean! Did you find her?" Sam called from the library.
Dean broke the kiss, swearing as he did. He took her hand and pulled her into the room. Sam was sitting at the table, his laptop in front of him as usual. Kevin and Castiel were at the end of the table; Castiel was eating a burrito. He waved at Amie, a slight smile on his face.
She waved back, then sat in an empty chair next to Sam, looking over his shoulder. "What's up?"
Sam turned the laptop so Amie could look at it. She studied it for several minutes. "Wait, is this what I think it is? Boyle's going to let people in the inner circle?"
"Well, reporters," Sam replied. "He's picked a handful of them to travel with him for several days, then attend some big fundraiser he's having. Boyle's after more publicity, trying to gain a bigger following. Probably to try to find better vessels."
Dean stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders. "Boyle hasn't met any of them. So, how would you feel about going in? Sam and Kevin think they have a way to replace one of the reporters with you."
"You'll actually let me go in alone?" Amie asked, shocked, turning to look at him.
Dean nodded, but his expression was troubled. "None of us can go. If there are angels anywhere around him, they'll recognize us. But they don't know you."
"Okay," she said, without hesitating. "I'll do it." Dean's hands momentarily tightened on her shoulders. She grabbed one, squeezing it reassuringly. "What do we need to do?" she inquired.