Ah-ha! Next chapter!
Two updates this week should keep you cupcakes until the next update; next Wednesday.
Warning: Sorta kinda slightly smutty. Well, maybe not smutty. Think of it as a PG-13 movie that parents regret letting their 12-year-old watch.
Enjoy!
~Christianne
Nicole POV
I fell back onto my pillows with a gasp and Sam limply fell next to me; both of us were sweaty, naked, panting, and I don't know about him, but I was sore as hell. Through the heavy breathing in the room, I heard Sam chuckle.
"You still with me?" He asked.
"Well..." I said, about to laugh myself. "I didn't pass out again, if that's what you're asking."
He laughed a little harder. "Hey, I said I'm sorry."
"You wouldn't need to say you're sorry if you did that to me on the bed like I said instead of on against the wall." I half-laughed, pulling a sheet over my chest.
In response was a tired, smug chuckle. "If I knew you were the fainting type, I would have." I reached over and pinched one of the reddish-purple bruises forming on his chest. He yelped 'Ow!' through some laughs.
"How'd you do that anyway?" I asked. I'd gotten my breath back, and propped myself up on my elbow. I held the sheet over my chest with one hand, and looked down at his sweaty face; his longer hair was damp, and pushed away from his face. The light from the moon outside was filtering through the stain glass, but other than that it was dark.
"Make you pass out?" Sam asked, copying my pose. Only he pulled the shoot over his bottom half instead of his chest; if he had covered that glorious chest up, I would have pounced on him. Again. "The alphabet."
"The alphabet?" I repeated, laughing once.
"Yeah, you know," Sam raised one hand up, and began tracing letters in the air with his finger. "The alphabet."
"Ah," I realized, nodding once, smiling a little. It slowly turned into a dirty little smirk.
"So, does the alphabet work with your fingers too?" I asked, reaching forward to grasp his large hand, pushing my fingers through his.
Sam chuckled once, catching my tone. "I'm sure it does," he admitted, pushing our intertwined hands back so he was hovering me. "But my go-to move is numbers."
I laughed once as my other hand was grabbed by Sam's. He intertwined our fingers and brought them up so they were pressed to the side of my head like our other hands. "Start at 100 and go down." He further explained, his lips brushing my jaw and neck. Both his hands left mine, trailed up my arms, over my collarbones and dipped under the sheet.
"Don't you dare make me pass out again." I managed to get out.
"No promises, Nikki." Sam responded. I inhaled sharply and arched up towards him. Sam used this to his advantage, and smashed his mouth to mine, muffling the groan I let out.
Omniscient POV
While Sam was going on a date with Nikki's doppleganger, Dean was still working the case that brought them there in the first place, but he'd hit a dead end. Sam did the research, and Dean was fine with that. But when the lead was slim to begin with, and Sam wasn't there, that's when Dean got irritated.
It was a little after two that Dean pulled the Impala in front of the address Sam texted a few hours ago. He snorted once; the place was a friggen church. The old Nikki would have gotten a kick out of it.
It's taken a while, but Sam convinced Dean to at least walk past the coffee shop. Dean was thinking Sam was still grieving, but then he heard her. Dean heard Nikki call his name in the middle of the place; he was skeptical, but he believed.
Dean sat in the car for an hour, staring at the dark apartment. He checked his phone. Yup, Sam had texted him to be outside at 2:15. It was almost 3now.
A light turned on inside, and the door opened. A big dog ran out the door, and Sam came out after. He was pulling a t-shirt over his head, yanking the hem over his low slung jeans. He hadn't bothered to put his belt on, or his shoes, to walk down the driveway to lean through the open window of the Impala.
"What's up?" Sam asked, leaning an arm on the top of the car to lean down to talk to his brother.
"A whole lot 'a nuthin.'" Dean groaned. He jerked his head towards 'Nicole's house. "Looked into her."
"What'd you find?" Sam asked, leaning on the door as Dean handed him some papers.
"Nicole Lani, 25, enrolled at Yale, has been for the last six years. She's getting her masters this year." Dean rattled off.
"Six years?" Sam asked, getting a nod. "Maybe it's a filing error. Did you talk-"
"-to her freshman professors?" Dean finished for him, nodding. "Already did. Most said that Nicole was a great student."
Sam just nodded, looking at what Dean got on 'Nicole.' Transcripts, work-study forms, community service applications; on paper, 'Nicole Lani' was close to perfect.
"Sam she's real." Dean said when Sam remained silent. "She looks a hell'a'va lot like Nik, but Nicole Lani is real."
"Never said she wasn't real, Dean," Sam half-sighed, sounding a little irritated. He jammed the papers back together and handed them to Dean. "She...She's Nikki."
"How the hell do you know, man?" Dean asked, yanking the papers back. Sam clenched his jaw briefly, and worked his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"She...Dean she has the same eyes." Sam finally said. What he said, and how he said it, surprised his brother. Dean raised his eyebrows and leaned back at Sam's words. "She's in there, Dean. I can see it in her eyes...How she walks, the way she smiles, her sense of humor, the way she-...Nikki's in there. I know it."
Dean laughed once. "That was...That was beyond a chick flick moment, Sammy."
"Shut up...Jerk." Sam muttered, getting off the car.
Leaning out the window, Dean called 'Bitch!' as loudly as he could without risking waking the neighbors.
Nicole POV
I rolled over, flinging my arm to throw it across Sam's back. It hit bare mattress. I looked over and frowned. I sat up, and saw his clothes were gone from my floor. I let out a sad sigh.
I've never had a real serious relationship; seven months was my reccord. There were a few sporadic dates, and, roughly, one in five went with me; of that, three in seven left as soon as they could.
I didn't think Sam would be like that, honestly. Morning the loss, I swung my legs out of bed, found my underwear and pulled a hoodie over my head. The more I thought about it, the more a sad, crushing pain wrapped around my heart. I knew him less than a day; I shouldn't feel this sad about it.
I was fighting to get my wavy blonde hair into a braid as I went down the stairs. I was just about to tie it off with the hair tie from around my wrist when my door opened.
Sammy ran in first, followed by Sam.
Sam ran a hand over his face. As it fell, he saw me and smiled. "Hey...Did I wake you up?"
Wordlessly, I shook my head, continuing down the steps. Sam looked like he was about to say something, but I took a few skip-like steps to close the distance between us. I reached up, gently cupped his jaw and gave him a chaste, soft kiss. Sam reciprocated the gentle movements; one hand held the back of my neck and the other rested on my hip. The lower hand moved to the small of my back. It pressed harder as he leaned down more so I wasn't stretching up on my tiptoes.
When we parted, Sam brushed hair from my face and gave me one of those smiles; they were soft, just the turn up of the corners of his lips, but they were surprisingly intense and full of feeling.
"What was that for?" He asked, not letting me go.
I gave a tiny smile. "Most guys would have left by now."
He laughed once. "You thought I left?"
"Yeah." I shrugged.
Sam shook his head and wrapped his arms around me, pressing me to him. I rested my cheek on his firm, warm chest and felt my fingers curl into the material of his shirt over his waistband. I sighed when Sam kissed my hairline.
"I'm not leavin' just yet, Nicole." He said quietly. I smiled, and turned to press a kiss through his t-shirt to whatever part of his chest I was leaning on.
"Good." I mumbled, finally pulling away from him. "I'm hungry, are you hungry?"
Sam laughed once and followed me to the kitchen. He leaned on the counter as I searched the cupboards and the fridge. Since I'd been home for four-ish days, I'd gone through most of my snacks.
"Hey." He said, making me turn around. Sam had gone through the basket on my counter, and pulled out a menu. "Chinese food?"
The menu was for Golden Panda, and 24-hour place downtown. I shrugged indifferently. "Sure, you like Chinese food?"
"You're the one with the menu. Don't you like Chinese food?" Sam asked, looking on the other side of the menu.
"Well, I don't dislike it," I reasoned, copying his pose; hip on the counter. "Places around here pay middle schoolers to hang theos on doorknobs. Never been there."
"Let's try it. They deliver." Sam said, going around the counter to find his jacket on the floor. As he bent over, going through the pockets for his phone, I leaned on the island and admired his ass.
He must have sensed he was being watched, because he looked over his shoulder at me. I just smirked, making him chuckle. Sam called the restaurant, and ordered for both of us (like I told him).
"Should be here in 30 minutes." Sam told me after hanging up. He tossed his phone on the table and came over to me. I'd perched myself up on the island, my legs dangling off the side.
"Hm...What to do for 30 minutes..." I trailed off, putting a mock-thinking look on my face, even going as far as to tap my finger on my chin.
Sam, smirking, leaned over me, resting his hands on either side of my thighs. He playfully narrowed his eyes. "Is that a challenge?"
"Considering my experience with your work," I started, reaching forward. I rested my forearms on his shoulders, crossing my hands behind his neck to press into his shoulder blades. I finished my thought "No, its not a challenge."
I pulled him towards me and didn't stop even after we were kissing. I was usually a little more submissive when it came to sex; I let the guy have his fun, then have my own. With Sam, though...The fight was fun.
Our tongues were battling against each other, and both of us were doing whatever we could to win. I pulled on his hair, making him groan. Sam slid a hand up my hoodie and pressed a searing hand to the small of my back, making me let out a breathy sigh. I boldly hooked a leg around him and yanked his forwards. Sam pulled my hoodie over my head. I unbuttoned his jeans. He sucked on my neck and I'm positive he left a hickey. I dragged my nails over his shoulders, leaving angry red lines.
By the time Sam was fiddling with my bra clasp and I had a hand down his pants, the doorbell rang.
I pulled away from his lips and smiled. "If you pull away now I win."
He batted my hand out of his waistband and zipped up. "I'll live." Sam said, pressing a quick, hard kiss to my lips before he grabbed his wallet and went to the door.
I got off the counter and out of sight from the door; I was only in my ballerina pink bra and some black panties. I found Sam's flannel on the floor and pulled it over my shoulders. The sleeves were so long I had to push them up to my elbows just to button it.
A wonderful smell wafted through my first floor, and I spun around to see Sam carrying a plastic bag holding a paper bag. He dropped it on the coffee table and sat on the sofa. I let out a surprised squeak when Sam reached up, grabbed my hips and yanked me down to him. He'd sat close to the end of the sofa, and he'd pulled me down so my butt was on the sofa and the bottom of my back was against the arm of the sofa. My legs were over Sam's lap and I pressed my heels to his thighs so my knees were bent up.
Sam handed me a classic white and red Chinese food container and a pair of chopstick, took out two containers for himself, then he stretched his long legs over the coffee table.
I found the TV remote and flipped through channels until I found a channel playing an X-Files marathon.
"So, what'd you get me?" I asked as I opened my container.
"Teriyaki pork," Sam told me, opening his own container.
"Scully is totally kickass." I said, my mouth full of egg roll.
"Mm-hm..." Sam sighed.
It was hours later (the sun was just starting to rise), and I was still half in Sam's lap. I'd polished off my pork a while ago, and teased Sam until he gave up his egg rolls. Sam had slouched down some, and his head was lolled towards me. One arm as over my thighs, hanging limply over the side of the sofa, and the other was trailing lazily up and down my calfs.
Once I finished my last egg roll, I brushed my fingers off and scooted around until I was comfortably cuddled to Sam's side. He moved the arm that had been over my thighs to wrap around my shoulders. I sighed contently, my fingers instinctively wrapped around the material of his t-shirt as I snuggled to his warmth.
"What was she like?" I asked. I felt like I had to whisper about the subject.
"Who?" Sam asked through an exhale. The arm around me moved so he could play with the end of my blonde braid and the other continued to graze over my thighs.
"The girl I remind you of." I further explained.
Sam's hands stopped moving, and I felt every body part of his I touched tense. Slowly, I looked up at his face. The moving, flashing lights from the TV danced across his face. Sam seemed ery deep in thought.
"I think you would've liked her." Sam finally said, his hands resuming movement. He used the same quiet tone I did. "She was...She was strong.
"She was my best friend...She was my brother's best friend too...Her life just kind of kept throwing crap at her and she kept taking it 'till she could throw it back." Sam said, nodding a little at the end. I waited for him to say something else.
"I don't wanna push, but it that all I'm gonna get?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
"She died."
My brows lifted slightly. "I'm..I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried."
Sam shook his head. "No...No, it's fine."
I put my head back on his shoulder. Slowly, my eyelids began to droop lower and lower until they were closed. I could still hear the sounds of the X-Files playing in the background, and Sam's steady heartbeat under my ear.
A thought crossed my mind that made me want to smile.
This feels right.
Omniscient POV
While Sam and 'Nicole' were cuddling on a cashmere sofa, Dean was batting spiderwebs of his face as he walked through an abandoned boathouse.
In New Haven County, Connecticut there were very few places a Djinn would like to keep its victims. Dean had made a list of places to check, and had been going through cobwebs all night; so far the first three places he checked out were torn down. Now he was at the Choate Lake House. It used to be part of a private school in the 70s, but when the dam broke, the lake drained and the lake house didn't have a lake anymore.
Dean already cleared the drydock and the massive brick building used for storing boats in the winter, the two above ground floors of the lake house and as now on the basement. He had a flashlight in one hand, and a silver dagger dipped in lamb's blood in the other.
He found a few rotten books, some jars that Dean hoped were filled with moonshine (opposed to the alternative), and what looked like a dead possum. No Djinn, no victims.
"Damn." Dean said once he got to the far end of the basement. He kicked a box in frustration, then headed back up the stairs. He paused for a second by the front door; there was a pile of dirty magazines that looked like they were bought in the early 80s.
As Dean walked back to the Impala, he passed the open, big door of the dry dock. There was a yacht in the dry dock that had seen better days. It was about 30 feet long, and the ladder to the deck was against the side. He'd checked the dry dock bay and the control room, but not the boat in the dry dock.
Dean took the silver knife out again, and walked towards the ladder. The desk was rotten and beat down from years of rain; the steps down to the cabin were so rotten out Dean just jumped down. One of his feet almost went right through the floor.
The cabin was dark; Dean moved to take his flashlight out. He lowered his gaze to work the flashlight out of his pocket, and was slammed back into the rotted steps.
In less than a second, Dean was on the floor and the djinn had escaped without being seen.
On the floor, Dean took a second to right himself, and let out a long string of swearwords.
At least he knew he was in the right place now.
He kept his gaze up this time and got his flashlight. The cabin was rotted and broken. Keeping his head low to avoid hitting the low ceiling, Dean headed towards the bunks at the back. Three kids had been found, and there were three empty bunks. In the fourth, there was a twenty-sumthin' girl unconscious with her hands locked in crudely made shackles attached to the head of the bunk. Dean checked for a pulse; weak or not, it was there.
Dean did a thorough check of the yacht before leaving. As he climbed down the ladder, he called the police department.
"Hey, I'd like to report a missing person." He said, rolling his left shoulder back; the djinn must have stepped on it or something, 'cause it hurt like hell.
"When was the last time you saw this person?" The operator asked.
"Oh, no. I found somebody who's missing." Dean explained, a slight smartass smirk on his phone and tone in his voice. "Blonde girl in her 20s, dolphin tattoo on her left shoulder. She's in the yacht in the dry dock at the abandoned lake house."
"Can I have your name sir?"
"Yeah, you gotta pen?" Dean asked, then snapped his phone shut.
Dean was in front of 'Nicole's house again. It was a little after eight in the morning, but 'Nicole' and Sam had only gotten up half an hour ago. Now, they were making pancakes in her kitchen.
Actually, now they were flicking flour at one another.
Sam and whatever version of Nikki he was with made a nice couple. The whole situation was still dysfunctional as hell, but they made a nice couple.
Dean pulled the visor down and looked at the photo he'd on the inside. Using two paperclips, the picture of Nikkie between Sam and Dean was held to the visor. Trevor had given Sam the three pictures Nikki had in her glove compartment; Sam had the one of her eating on the hood of her Mustang in his wallet, and the one of her and Chris was pinned to a wall by Bobby's desk.
Dean looked from the dark haired girl in the blurry photograph, to the bubbly blonde in the church-apartment. As much as he hated the words, Sam was right.
Nikki was in there somewhere.