so, so sorry this took me so long, but I've just had so much shit going on in my life right now. Plus, I'm just lazy ;)
but anywho, here we go!
Emma ran her fingers through her long hair. She'd always loved it long, but suddenly she hated it with a burning passion. It was heavy and hot and hard to manage.
"Ugh, it's too long!" A girl groaned, flopping down on a bed. "Please, can you just cut it?" She begged. A boy, the same age as her- almost her exact copy - gave her a doubtful look.
"Dad won't like it." He started, but she cut him off.
"Boo-hoo. Dad doesn't have to it hanging around his shoulders in 90 degree weather. Just do it, please? I'll tell him I did it by myself, if you're too chicken to admit that you helped." She grinned as she tossed him a large hunting knife, the silver blade winking in the light. He caught it with the same ease she had tossed it at him.
Sighing, the boy took handfuls of her caramel locks and sliced right above her shoulders. When he was done and they had swept up the evidence, she went to the bathroom to check. It was choppy and uneven, but her neck could feel the breeze. With great trepidation of the next morning, she snuggled in one of the two beds with the boy, their arms wrapped around each other.
When she woke up, a man with brown hair and eyes tossed her a purple bandana, muttering, "It looks good."
"Hello? Earth to Emma- are you in there?"
Emma shook her head, confused by the images playing in her head. "Huh?"
"Good, I thought you went brain-dead for a second there. Thank you SO much for the Aspirin - I felt like the seven dwarfs were mining in my skull." Harriet's gaze slid past Emma. "Oh my god! You're the… I am… help." She whispered to her best friend.
"Sam, this is Harriet - my best friend and roommate." She gave him the same look she gave Dean, the one that said OFF LIMITS. "Sam is Dean's younger brother. Do you remember Harriet?" She gave Dean a look, praying that he'd understand.
He stuck out his hand. "I would remember someone as beautiful as you, I'm Dean." He said with an apologetic smile. Emma and Sam's eyes rolled at the same time.
Harriet almost wept with relief. She took his hand, giving it a gentle shake, smiling coyly. "It's alright, I don't mind. Are you showing them around?" Emma nodded uneasily, recognizing the conniving look in her best friend's eye. "Well then you should come with us to the Keller's party tonight. Just about everyone will be there."
"Harry, remember last time we went out? Didn't end well. Besides, finals are coming up and I have butt-loads of latin roots to memorize!" Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw the brother's exchange a look. They did that a lot.
"Come on, Em! Please? We need to show them what a Stanford party's like! It's our duty to!" She fluttered her eyelashes shamelessly.
With an eyeroll, Emma caved. "Fine! Fine! You win, you sneaky thing you! Damn your puppy-dog eyes." With a good natured laugh, she pushed her best friend gently out the door.
"So, which one do you want?" Harriet whispered conspiratorially.
"What?"
"Which brother? You get first pick since you kinda know them." She continued, missing her friend's disgusting face. "I'm easy about either one - they're both delicious." She licked her lips, baby blue eyes twinkling with lusty thoughts.
"Ew!" was the first thing that popped out of Emma's mouth. Just the thought of kissing either of the Winchester brothers made her want to puke. It wasn't like she was blind - both of them were drool worthy, their muscles clearly defined underneath their clothes… but it grossed her out. "You can have both; I've got bigger fish to fry."
"Oh, thank you! A threesome would would be pretty hot… wait - you like someone else? Why didn't you tell me? That's what best friends for, dammit!" She joked, fake hurt flashing in her eyes.
"Yeah right, I 'like' someone!" Emma said sarcastically, but a face with dark brown hair and electric blue eyes popped in her mind. "I meant finals. You know - the whole reason we're at college: to learn?" Harriet rolled her eyes, already bored with the conversation topic. They'd had it before.
"You're such a prude! But I love you anyways! Come on, let's show the hotties how to have a good time: Stanford style!" They linked arms, giggling like maniacs.
After a few more boring classes, Emma found herself back in her dorm room, watching with growing amusement and annoyance as her best friend flew around the room, throwing clothes this way and that. "Gahhh!" Harriet called out, making her second circuit around, clothes flying past in her wake. "I don't know what to wear! How can this happen? I always know what to wear!" She flopped to the cluttered floor with a defeated sigh. "I'm doomed."
"Now that you're done trashing our room," Emma ignored Harriet's glare, "could we go now? We don't want to leave the boys waiting - they might get snapped up without us there." That caught Harriet's attention.
"That bitch Lynn better not… ugh - what am I thinking? I can't go out like this!" She gestured to the black mini skirt and pale blue blouse she wore. She'd kicked off her black four inch heels somewhere during her frantic search for the 'perfect outfit.'
"Why not?" Emma never understood the need to change clothes twice in one day. It was simply impractical to get more than one set of clothes dirty to quickly. No, if there had been blood on them, than she would've understood. Emma shook her head for what felt like the thousandth time that day. What was happening to her? Blood?
Harriet missed the whole thing, completely wrapped up in her wardrobe troubles. "Because than I'll look so… normal."
Normal. That word was important to someone. Someone she knew and loved and would die for. Bue who…
"Are you honestly wearing that?" Harriet's question brought Emma out of her head. She looked down at herself. Black boots (as always), black leather pants, and a tight gray henley shirt. Her hair was french braided down her back and the only piece of her past, a charm bracelet, was around her wrist. People always frowned when they noticed how strange the charms were. A pentagram, a cross, an egyptian ankh, another egyptian symbol: an eye, the star of david, and another symbol that Emma didn't know. It seemed to be a jumble of different religions. Emma herself wasn't religious, but maybe her past self was. She didn't really care. Wearing it somehow made her feel safe. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"You look like you're gonna go take someone out - and not in the dating sense." Harriet said with a frown. Obviously, she wanted Emma to put on some flowery dress; Emma would rather have her entrails eaten by wild animals.
"Always be prepared." Slipped from Emma's lips without her bidding. At Harriet's look, Emma tried to explain herself - even though she herself didn't know what was going on. "I meant, I gotta be prepared in case some dick tries anything. It's not like I can run in heels and a tight skirt." Or kick his ass, she thought. Again - where had that come from? She wasn't a violent person and never got angry easily, but here she was, thinking about beating someone up. It didn't make any sense…
"That's a good point…. what if I wore this…" Harriet trailed off, digging through the piles of clothes on the floor. But "No, that'll never work" soon followed after.
Losing her patience, Emma strode over to her best friend's trashed closet and grabbed two pieces of clothing at random. "Here. Wear this." She said, shoving them in Harriet's face.
Her eyes grew round. "That's - that's PERFECT! How'd you do that?" She snatched the flowy short white skirt from Emma.
"It's a gift." Emma replied, not mentioning the fact that she'd just picked what was on top. "Does this mean we can go now?" Emma wasn't ashamed to admit that she whined for a second there.
"Yep. Let's go astonish the boys with out hotness!" Harried crowed, making Emma laugh.
Through some miracle - even though Emma didn't believe in that crap - they weren't too late to the party. The Keller's house (mansion) flashed in the many strobe lights. Music blared, even from down the street. If the Keller's weren't so damn rich, Emma was sure someone would've called the cops.
Harriet glided through the open door, a predator in the wild. She talked through the throng, seeing out the Winchester boys.
Something tugged at Emma's gut. Not sure what she was doing, she led them to the bar, where, sure enough, Dean and Sam were waiting. It was like Emma had some honing device in her brain that led her right to them. A gaggle of giggling college girls flocked around them, simpering like morons. Sam seemed uncomfortable with the females groping at his muscles and flirting shamelessly, but Dean was enjoying himself. Until he saw Emma and Harriet.
His whole face lit up and he brushed past all the girls until he'd reached them, Sam at his heels. Their fan club sighed in defeat at the sight of Emma and Harriet; Harriet gave them a smirk.
"Enjoying yourselves?" Emma laughed, her voice teasing.
"Dean here loves easy college girls!" Sam piped up, face flushed. Clearly, they'd already already started drinking. "Except that they can never get him drunk - even if they do, he's as fresh as a daisy the next day!" He shouted to be heard over the loud music.
"Just like Em here! She always end up dragging me home even if we've had the exact same amount to drink." Harriet clapped a hand on Emma's back.
"That's cause you're a friggen lightweight." Dean and Emma said in perfect unison. Dean's eyes widened, full of - was that nostalgia?
"Wow. Neat trick." Harriet gasped, her eyes sliding over to Sam like he was a piece of prime rib.
Emma kept her gaze locked on the oldest Winchester. Something was bugging him, she could tell. The so-called 'happy' set to his shoulders was too tense to be genuine, and every smile was forced. "Do you wanna talk?" Emma asked just as Harriet asked Sam, "You wanna dance?"
Dean nodded, which took Emma by surprise. Sam seemed a little more hesitant, but it was too late since Harriet had already dragged him to the dancefloor and was grinding on him harder than Emma had ever seen her go for a guy.
"Wow. She must really want him tonight. But don't worry, she's completely harmless. She'll get stupid drunk and have no idea what she's doing." Emma reassured, something telling her than Dean didn't like leaving his little brother alone anywhere. She led them to a table facing the door, as was her habit all the time. She just always felt like she shouldn't have her back turned to the entrance in case something happened. "So, is something bugging you?"
Dean shrugged, cradling his half drunken beer in his hands. Emma snatched one from some freshman as they passed, ignoring their protests. Dean smirked at her antics. Harriet would've reprimanded her for being so rude to the little freshman. Emma didn't give a crap.
"Well, if you're not gonna talk, then drink." She offered her bottle in a toast. With a small smile, Dean clinked bottles before taking a mighty swig. The amber liquid slid down Emma's throat with hardly any burn. She'd become immune to the effects of a simple beer. After they'd finished their first beers, Emma said "Let's get something a bit stronger, huh?" She returned with several shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. Dean grinned.
"Where's Sam?" Dean shouted - Emma noticed that when he got tipsy, he got loud. She giggled slightly.
"Probably mating with Harry- let's go find them. God knows what condition they're in." Emma savored the last shot of tequila on the table. She was buzzed now, she could feel it. "Come on." She dragged a wobbly Dean from their table, beer bottles rolling away in their wake.
"You know, Kat, we should really tell dad that you're okay." Dean stage whispered as she led him towards where she'd seen Sam and Harriet last.
"Kat? Who's Kat? I'm Emma, remember?" She said with a laugh, not looking at him as she searched for their two lightweights.
"Oh yeah, you're memory. We gotta find a way to fix that. Otherwise, you'll never believe me when I tell you about what I do for a living." Dean sounded both sad and happy, on odd mixture.
"Dean, what are you talking about? Wait, do you know something about my past?" Emma demanded, whirling around to face him. He mimed pulling a zipper across his mouth. She rolled her eyes in frustration. "Remind me to never let you get this drunk, you're annoying." Emma muttered, finally spotting Sam and Harriet.
He was slumped in a chair while she straddled him, practically doing him then and there. They kissed sloppily, all drool and tongue and gross-ness. Emma wrinkled her nose. "Come on Sammy, let Harry go so she can go sleep this off."
Sam froze like she'd zapped him with a taser. "You- you called meee Sammyyyyy!" He yelled in joy, pushing Harriet of him and stumbling towards her.
"Um, yeah I did. Dude, get your octopus arms off me! I gotta take Harry home." But that only seemed to make Sam wanna hug her tighter.
"Thisss is sooo greeaat!" He slurred in her ear. Sam was definitely a happy drunk. She could hear Harriet groaning from the floor. This was bad. She had three drunk people and somehow they all had to go home safely.
"Look, I don't know what you guys are talking about, but I seriously have to take Harry home. You guys wait here until I come back, okay? There is no way that Dean can drive like this." Emma looked over her shoulder to see the oldest Winchester nodding sagely, like it was all his idea.
"Driving my Baby while drunk is never happening." He grumbled, settling into a chair to wait until he either got sober or for Emma to get back.
"Alright." Emma sighed, dragging Harriet up by her armpits. Harriet grumbled some but didn't fight back. Maybe she was just upset that Sam dumped her, literally, and not totally wasted. "Let's go, party girl. By Dean, bye Sammy! Hopefully I'll be back!" She called over her shoulder, missing completely the looks of longing the Winchester brothers shot her.
"Are we going back to the dorm?" Harriet groaned as they stumbled along, Emma's arm wrapped firmly around Harriet's waist. Emma managed a grunt, to focused on keeping them from wiping out onto the concrete.
"Come on, let's take the shortcut through the park." Emma guided them down the path, feeling a lot like a sheepdog attempting to herd a slightly drunk sheep. The grass was wet from the dew and Harriet whined about her feet getting cold. "Ha - who's paying for not wearing boots no, huh?" Emma laughed, letting Harriet rest on a stone bench. The stars shone out, bright against the inky sky. Emma basked in the light of the moon.
"Katherine Winchester." A monotone voice called out. Emma turned towards the sound, recognizing it as the same name Dean called her when he was drunk. "I have been searching for you." He said, eyes warm and happy. Emma's blood ran cold. It was the man from her dreams, his electric blue gaze freezing her in place. His dark brown hair curled slightly in his brilliant eyes, and his arm reached out for her.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about. My name's Emma, not Katherine." Emma said, taking a cautious step back. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell the random stranger her name, but she was confused, and slightly buzzed.
"Of course, your memories. Let me help you." Before Emma could protest, the stranger was in front of her, hand reaching towards her forehead. She heard Harriet scream, then everything went black.
ta-da! there you go! (I know promised to fix Katherine by this point, but I delayed it one more chapter. sorry!)