Part 30 – A few weeks later…
(October 1, 2009)
The bar was so full, Liz had to scoot passed body after body just to deliver drinks. New staff were tripping all over themselves. She greeted hunters she'd met before and acknowledged the truckers but mostly ignored any advances. She'd bet there wasn't a hunter in the bar under 45. She'd tried to get Marty to tell her why there were so many in the bar over the last few days, and filling up the motel, but he'd just told her to serve them and steer clear and to make sure that friend of hers could walk her home every night. After that, she didn't dare ask one of the hunters why they all seemed to be waiting in Valor Springs for something.
The door slamming shut made her want to scream. She turned, glanced up and exclaimed. "Sam! Oh my god! Where have you been?"
"Liz!" He hugged her tightly. "How's it going?"
She noted his obvious brush off of her question. "Busy tonight. Hunter convention or something?"
"Nah… Least, I don't think. I never did get my Hunter's Guild card." He jerked his head to the side and attempted a smile that fell short.
She sobered a bit. “Where’s your brother? Tall guy? Likes to brood.”
“Dean is getting us a room." Sam shrugged.
She looked him over. He was worse for wear but not complaining so she figured he was okay. Still, his silence worried her. "Is he gonna come in?"
"He said no but he could always be persuaded by the right person." Sam hoped he didn’t look as worried as he was. He had reluctantly left Dean to get the room. Scared didn’t cover it. “Maybe you can go get him down here.”
The words could have been a suggestion but the tone was more of a plea. "Marty! Be back in ten minutes."
Sam watched her escape out the door before Marty could give her the okay. Then he sank down at the first available stool and grabbed the beer when it was handed to him. If only he could stop his hands from shaking.
--
Liz knocked on the door and waited and waited. She waited for almost five minutes before the door swung open and Dean leaned in the doorway, clutching his arm to his body. The lights were out in the room, not even the glow from the TV. "Sam get lost?"
"Sam is having a beer." Liz leaned on the railing, leaving unspoken that it was usually Dean who was in the bar having a beer. He sounded okay but with Dean, that didn’t mean much. She tried to get a better look without moving in too fast and chasing him off. "So… it’s been a while. You look good, Dean."
"I look like road kill." When he turned his head, the light fell on what the dark had hidden when he'd opened the door. His face was beat up. Bruised and cut. Maybe a burn or two.
She fought the urge to make a fuss; he’d just shrug her off. She bit her lip against concerned questions while his eyes wouldn’t meet hers. "Are you coming down? Lucas Abel, Fred Knight and Nick Tarry need to lose some money." He only stared at her, eyes untrusting. "Somebody needs to take it from them and if I do it, Marty will lose three customers."
"How much money?" At least he seemed interested, but then again, he might just be making small talk while she hovered outside his door.
Dropping her eyes to the ground, she idly cracked her knuckles. "They've been buying rounds all night… and it's a pretty crowded bar."
"Why are you still here?" He shook his head at her, eyes cast to the vast darkness beyond the parking lot. "In Valor Springs?"
"Told you. I like it here." She smiled as wide as she could muster but he was scaring her with his distance. "I meet all sorts of interesting people."
"I guess." The faraway look in his eyes tugged at her gut. She had to do something. Leaving him alone like this was just not going to happen.
"How about I dress those cuts?" Liz pushed passed him to start gathering supplies from the hotel room after turning on a light. She didn't find much beyond soap and water but Dean had obediently sat down to wait. He was eerily silent while she sponged dried blood from his face and carefully dried a blister on his face. He let her work for a while, one hand cupping his face to hold him steady for her damp rag. She moved closer to get at a stubborn blood stain and nearly lost her balance. His hands shot to her hips but he never opened his eyes. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as she steadied herself on his shoulders, shifting back slightly, still practically straddling his leg. "Hey Dean?”
"Yeah?" His voice sounded tired. Eyes closed, lashes resting on those purple-tinged cheekbones, he just looked tired.
"I remembered when we first met." She squeezed out some bloody water and re-wet her towel. His hands dropped back to his sides, brushing her thighs on the way down.
He made himself comfortable against the chair he'd chosen to sit in. "Down in the bar a few years back. I'm not senile enough to forget that or the scathing words that were meant to send me running."
"Actually, we met before that. Not so formally but we did." She handed him a dry towel to put ice in for a nasty bruise on his jaw.
"What are you talking about?" he hissed out when the ice made his face sting.
"Racine in '03. Your dad woke you up in the middle of the night and yelled at you for bringing a girl to the room." She met his green eyes, finally open and looking so haunted and confused. "Some girl who appeared after you fell asleep. Half-naked and confused about how she’d crawled into a bed with someone who wasn’t her husband.”
Dean stared up at her like she was crazy until it clicked. The details just fell into place. He hadn't thought about Racine for years. Crap hunt for a stupid werewolf that dragged him across several states and dozens of crap hotels… until he finally met up with his father in a dive where… his father had told a beautiful half-naked girl that his son had been raised in a barn. "That was you?"
She held his eyes for a long moment. A green intensity that made her look away first and put some distance between their bodies. "Yeah. I have to get back to work. So, you'll come take them down a peg?"
"It'll be too easy." He told her but he didn't smile. The last few weeks had been hell on Earth and he… well, it took a stop in Valor Springs to make him feel human again.
--
Sam listened to the carefully guarded way that coordinates were passed on. Activity on everyone's radars had picked up and so the hunters had gathered in a safe place to trade information and locations in order to help subdue the forces of darkness that were literally forcing their way into the world. He threw back a shot and tried to calm down. It hadn't been Dean's fault. Dean was careful. Dean was strong but he'd had a chink in his metaphysical armor and it had cost them both dearly. Dealing with the initial possession had been easy enough. But the demon had a powerful friend who had made off with Dean's body; and he had only been caught when Dean had fought through and held on long enough for Sam to trap him inside a circle. Then his brother had disappeared inside the demon for days while it was interrogated and exorcised. It had been a wicked sort of strong and fought back against the Latin litanies, using Dean’s knowledge of the rites to delay the inevitable.
Sam never wanted to do that again. He scribbled down some information and slid the napkin over to Marty when the guy came to check on him. Marty blinked at the napkin and began tearing bits of it off to hand to different hunters in his bar. They all gave him a look but he told them all to mind their own business and drink their beers.
When Liz made her way into the bar, some of them were leaving. She counted her blessings and hurriedly began bussing tables and clearing the way for regulars to get to their tables and stools. By the time Dean made it down, Lucas, Fred and Nick were starting a new game and reveling in the space newly afforded to them. To appease the gambling hunters, Dean had a shot and a beer but he kept his eyes on the table.
When it finally died down, Liz was never more grateful to take a stool next to Sam. "So… how's it going?"
"Better than it was." He shrugged wearily. At least Dean was out of the room and engaging people… exactly what he hadn’t been doing the last day or so.
"Did you kill it?"
"Yeah." Sam nodded but didn’t elaborate. "We couldn't have done it without you."
"What's with the mood?" Liz asked softly.
"It's nothing. I just… I've had some time to think and I think… maybe I'm never going to get out of this life." Sam admitted. "I want to… but I think I might be a little afraid to actually do it. You know? I could always go to law school and be a lawyer but what kind of prosecutor would I be if I could find reasons why it wasn't a man at all. What kind of defendant would I be if I knew my client had a reason not to be responsible for the crimes his body committed and yet I couldn’t prove any of it because the supernatural has no place in a court of law?"
"Maybe that's why you chose law? Because it was black and white. It had rules and the rules seemed to work without the mystery of the unknown." She laid a hand on his shoulder but he remained tense. "Sam, what happened? Both you and Dean are very… very… broody tonight and that's not a word I normally like to use."
"Let's not talk about demons tonight. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Let's talk about you."
"Sure." Dean agreed as he took a seat on the other side of Liz. "I always love to hear about Liz."
"You're a jerk." Liz groaned and got up to refill mugs on the bar. She set down a pitcher and she leaned over to address Sam's request. She shrugged at him. "I'm nervous about the idea of moving on… it… I think I'm ready to attempt it but not to do it."
"I think I understand." He made a face at her, which made her laugh. It felt good to think about things that weren't necessarily life and death issues.
"I'm always going to love my husband but I don't want to be alone the rest of my life… but getting to the point where I can even envision myself kissing another man is… very difficult." She sighed heavily. "I kind of feel like I need to get the first kiss over with."
"That, I definitely understand. The first kiss is the hardest. It was nearly a year for me."
She nodded to his wisdom. "Once I know how I feel after that first kiss… then I'll know if I'm ready."
"I don't think you want to start kissing the toads in this bar." Dean winked as he killed the pitcher in front of them. He looked her over. It'd be weeks before they'd find another excuse to run through Valor Springs. "I mean… seriously. That's sadder than when you told me you'd only been with one man in your life. Look… pool table."
Liz shuddered when she thought about any of them even touching her. "Okay. So, I won't be kissing anyone in this bar. I'll just have to wait for… little Devlin to hit 18."
Sam burst out laughing but Dean sat up with a questioning look. "Little Devlin?"
"Betty's nephew. He's 13 and a cutie and the nicest boy in town. It's a joke but seriously… you're right about… the toads." Liz eyed the grungy hunters and shuddered. She tidied up what she could while the bar was emptying. She looked up once to see Dean and Sam talking quietly and then punching each other playfully. Shaking her head, she walked over and refilled their glasses for them. "Aw. Did you kiss and make up?"
"Make up? We were never fighting." Dean told her with a level stare. "Sam wanted to try that Apple thing up there."
"Where?" Liz turned and studied the back wall of the bar. She reached up to pull a green bottle down. "This?"
"No, it was the one beside it." Dean shook his head.
"Okay." Liz grabbed a stool to kneel on so she could study the bottles in a more sturdy position. She shook her head after searching for a while. "I'm not seeing it."
"That's because my brother is an ass." Sam finally admitted. He hated to out his brother while he’d had such a hard time but there was only so much he was willing to allow when it was Liz concerned.
"What?" Dean shrugged innocently as he sipped his beer.
"You're such a slug, Dean." Liz rolled her eyes when she realized her butt had risen to near eye level when she'd pulled out the stool. "See if I give you any more beer tonight." She moved over to where Marty was gathering a stack of receipts and showed her the large tabs on each of them. "How many do you think are going to get returned as fraudulent charges?"
"More 'an half." He shrugged. "But the good thing about card companies now… sellers are protected. I don't lose nothing."
"Good thing, too. Winchesters still have an open tab."
"Ah… they've been through enough this week… they drink free tonight. Rip up their ticket."
"What happened?" Liz frowned.
"Nothing out of the ordinary." He waved her off. "Hunters do as they will. They get banged up and every once in a while I feel sorry for a pair of the sons of bitches." He looked out over the bar. "Let's get most of these guys out the door. I want to close on time tonight. Little Bessie or whatever is dying and she needs to go home, apparently. I don't want you out here too late on your own."
"I'll be fine, Marty."
"Sure, you all say that."
--
Liz wandered around, picking up the left over bottles and mugs and pitchers. The door opened and she shook her head. "Sorry but we're closed."
The footsteps headed for her. She turned with her hands full of bottles to tell the hopeful customer to get lost. The scent of Stetson, sweat and beer hit her nose seconds before a sensual assault began on her mouth. She let out a startled squeal but leaned into it. A moment later, she dropped the bottles to the ground. Her fingers found a cool leather jacket to cling to as her knees turned to jelly.
When she was finally able to breathe again, it was a pair of dark green eyes that met hers. "Dean? What? Why?"
"The first one's out of the way." He whispered as he pulled away. He shrugged and turned to go.
Liz almost called after to him to demand an explanation but she couldn't get her brain to get her body under control. She stood there, staring at the door until long after he'd gone.
TBC
These Dreams (SN,XO,UC, Adult) (Complete)
Moderators: Itzstacie, Forum Moderators
Part 31 – The next morning…
(October 2, 2009)
Liz woke at dawn, her fingers traced her lips. She hadn't quite believed it when it had happened. She had wondered if she'd wake up to find out it was a dream, or worse, a vision. She couldn't take more of that sort. Not after everything she'd lived through since the first one. It would just be a cruel joke after all this time.
The kiss caused enough confusion as it was. Throwing in alien-induced visions was just asking for trouble. She wasn’t blind and she was sure even blind women knew what a heartbreaker Dean Winchester was. With his tortured, silent stares, and that bright wide smile and that cocky swagger. Those ridiculous eyelashes and those damn sexy scars.
Shoving her pillow over her face, Liz screamed. Flopping onto her back, she stared at the ceiling. “How old am I? 16?”
--
Sam set out two heart attack breakfast boxes on the little table. He’d given up on waiting for his brother to get up so they could get food but he knew that fresh coffee was the quickest and safest way to wake him up. He’d set it to brew while he was gone. Dean was just wiping the sleep from his eyes when he had returned. "Morning, sunshine."
"It's early." Dean grumbled.
"Not for those of us who slept. You hook up with someone on the way out of the bar or something?"
"Shut up." Dean grabbed a fork and started eating though he had no idea what was in the box. “Where’s the coffee?”
Later that day…
Dean sipped his beer and watched Liz out of his periphery. He shouldn't have done what he did the night before but he'd been buzzing and not drunk. Feeling good and stupid, after a week of torture, and he'd done something about it. He thought maybe he should apologize but she hardly looked at him long enough for him to get the words out. Finally, he decided to play her game and forget he'd ever done it.
Liz tried not to act like some needy school girl and beg Dean to know why he'd gone and kissed her brains out like that. She licked her lips and thought of something, anything, that would take her mind off of it. Finally, she pulled out her change from tips and headed for the jukebox. It was in there, she knew it was. G11.
Dean frowned at the song that blared out of the jukebox. "Sheryl Crow? Seriously?"
"I like this song." Liz answered vaguely. "You listen to older music more obsessively. I haven't heard this song in years."
"I thought we'd taught you better."
"Old habits die hard." Liz frowned as she swept the floor. It had been a bad choice. It had been her song with Future Max. Not only had Alex been robbed of 12 years of his life because of the events of that night but Max had been robbed of six years as well. Angrily, she strode back to the jukebox and punched another button. Any button. The strains of "Gone, Gone, Gone" floated out and she couldn't help but laugh.
"I told you. Easiest way to have a good time." He shrugged. "You don't even have to think about it. You just do. You never over-think it. You just… take the moment as it comes."
"I guess so." Liz nodded, realizing he wasn't just talking about the music anymore. She had an out. A way to not have to acknowledge it if she so chose. "When it comes around, you remember how much fun it is. Just not something you go seeking out. It's just a song that you hear once in a while. "
"Right." He turned to look at her with furrowed brows, unsure how exactly to take her dismissal of what he'd been trying to say.
"And I have you to thank. I would have never considered it if you hadn't brought it to my attention." Liz tossed her trash and put away her broom. "If you'll excuse me. I have errands to run before the evening rush."
The following night…
(October 3, 2009)
Liz traced the knife with a finger. She knew every inch and contour. She had learned them well after Sam and Dean had relinquished them to her. She wanted to learn how to throw them. "So, I hold it like this."
"And you throw it." Dean took the second blade and threw it through the bull's eye. "See there. Easy."
"Just throw it." Liz stared at the dartboard. Then she watched the lines of Dean's body as he threw another. "Okay." She drew her arm back and sent the blade flying. It hit the outer ring and fell to the floor. "I suck."
"Follow through with your fingers." Sam advised without looking up from his obits.
She turned to him with raised eyebrows. "You weren't even watching."
"Dean didn't say it and I felt I should…" He commented with the pen sticking out of his mouth. "Since I heard the knife hit the floor and all."
"I have not been trained since birth to throw a knife, forgive me." She grumbled as she gathered the knives together again.
Marty glared at them. "If you miss the board and hit the wall, I'll make you pay for it." He slammed a tub of bottles into the garbage. "Lillian, you have tables to bus."
Liz set the knives down and moved about gathering empties. When she took the glasses to the kitchen for a washing, Marty gave her a look. "What? Marty, you've been in a bad mood all night."
"Just don't get too attached to those boys, Lillian. You're a good kid. You've been helping them out and yeah… they repay the favors but… try to steer clear." He turned to hose down a bunch of plates, knowing that she was standing there and silently asking for an explanation. "We're in dangerous times in the spirit world these days, kiddo. You're a magnet for danger as it is and hanging out with those boys is like holding hands with a lightning rod… visions or no visions."
"You think I'm a magnet for danger?" she asked then scoffed. She turned to leave the kitchen but stopped. "You'd be right."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"No, you're right. All I ever did for my husband was attract trouble. Hanging around trouble would just be asking for something bad to happen." She leaned on a counter. "Why are you just now concerned with my safety, Marty? Is it all the traffic we've had lately?" He didn't answer her; he just bent over the sink to rinse the dishes. "Marty, come on. How can I know to look out if I don't know that something's coming?"
"Trust us to take care of you, Lillian… or Liz… or whatever the hell your name is."
"Marty…" Liz sighed. "Yeah, I told them my real name first. But they're nosy. They found me on the internet and spooked my folks. You didn't go snooping. My name is Liz Evans. My parents own a theme restaurant that used to be a roadhouse bar, probably a lot like this one. It's never been clear to me but Parker's was a bar where the soldiers would hang out off duty."
He wouldn’t meet her eyes when he uttered his next words. "Just don't go falling for one of them boys, Lillian. If you get your heart broken… somebody's gonna die."
Stunned, she tried not to let it show that his words had bothered her. "I hadn't planned on it, Marty."
"Good to hear."
Liz moved around in a daze. She had too many thoughts running around in her head. Too many thoughts about her family, about her dead husband, about her friends both new and old, about recent events and about what Marty wasn’t saying when he'd gotten grouchy.
"What's got you thinking so hard?"
"Butterflies." Liz blurted out before she realized that the question wasn't one that needed an answer. She looked up to find a pair of confused green eyes.
"What?" Dean shook his head.
"I have butterflies… in my stomach." 'Shut up, Liz.' He just stared at her. Her face flushed a deep red. She shouldn't have tried to explain but she had started to and now she had to finish. If it wasn't obvious to her, it still might be obvious to other people… which was probably what Marty was hinting at. "I knew you were coming tonight and I got butterflies." He bowed his head slightly. "Because of the other night."
"Right." He shrugged. "What do butterflies have to do with it?"
"Because you dangled something in front of me that I was looking for. Because you… I don't know." She glanced around. No one was around that could hear. "You kissed me. You were doing me a favor and thanks but… I'm a woman, Dean. I have needs and a kiss is a promise of needs being met."
"Maybe I shouldn’t have."
"Maybe."
"I didn't promise…"
"No but…" Liz took a breath. "Look. Maybe it means that I'm not ready to be… putting myself on the market or anything but… you can't just do that to me. You can't just kiss me and it mean nothing. It's not even that I wanted it to mean something but… Damn you."
"Damn me?"
"You got me all twisted up in knots over something that was clearly not even… It's my fault. I told you that I hadn't ever been with another man. There were only a handful to ever kiss me aside from him. Only a handful and none of them ever made me feel the way he did when he… then you go and kiss me out of my wits and then I got butterflies."
"You hate me." He tried to remind her. He was a little afraid to lift his eyes to someone who was clearly upset with him for what he'd been told was a pleasurable experience for several women in the past.
Liz deflated a bit. He had been trying to help, not propose. It wasn't like she had expected him to feel something. He had done it to help her make up her mind and it hadn't helped a bit… and that wasn't his fault. "I never hated you."
"You blamed me." His eyes whipped up to hers. Pain and regret shone out from the green depths.
"I never thought it was your fault." She laid a hand on his arm, he flinched but she didn't move it. "I'm sorry if I made you feel like it was. There was not a thing you could have done differently that wouldn't have gotten you killed too." His eyes slid away from hers. There was more than enough guilt going around over Max's death but she had to be clear. "I never hated you. I was afraid of you."
"Afraid of me?" Why had she said those words? He could feel the walls closing in on him.
"Don't ask me to explain that right now." She took a breath and straightened. "Look… just… I…" she huffed suddenly. "I'm gonna be here. I have nowhere else to go where people would understand or accept my choices. You're gonna drive through here because that monster needs fixing after all the damage you put her through. I like to think we're friends but I can't have this… thing. Not right now."
"I wasn't looking for anything. Like I was… sort of saying yesterday… It was a… in the moment kind of thing."
"Okay. The moment's over." She picked up a towel and left him at the counter so she could wipe down the tables.
TBC
(October 2, 2009)
Liz woke at dawn, her fingers traced her lips. She hadn't quite believed it when it had happened. She had wondered if she'd wake up to find out it was a dream, or worse, a vision. She couldn't take more of that sort. Not after everything she'd lived through since the first one. It would just be a cruel joke after all this time.
The kiss caused enough confusion as it was. Throwing in alien-induced visions was just asking for trouble. She wasn’t blind and she was sure even blind women knew what a heartbreaker Dean Winchester was. With his tortured, silent stares, and that bright wide smile and that cocky swagger. Those ridiculous eyelashes and those damn sexy scars.
Shoving her pillow over her face, Liz screamed. Flopping onto her back, she stared at the ceiling. “How old am I? 16?”
--
Sam set out two heart attack breakfast boxes on the little table. He’d given up on waiting for his brother to get up so they could get food but he knew that fresh coffee was the quickest and safest way to wake him up. He’d set it to brew while he was gone. Dean was just wiping the sleep from his eyes when he had returned. "Morning, sunshine."
"It's early." Dean grumbled.
"Not for those of us who slept. You hook up with someone on the way out of the bar or something?"
"Shut up." Dean grabbed a fork and started eating though he had no idea what was in the box. “Where’s the coffee?”
Later that day…
Dean sipped his beer and watched Liz out of his periphery. He shouldn't have done what he did the night before but he'd been buzzing and not drunk. Feeling good and stupid, after a week of torture, and he'd done something about it. He thought maybe he should apologize but she hardly looked at him long enough for him to get the words out. Finally, he decided to play her game and forget he'd ever done it.
Liz tried not to act like some needy school girl and beg Dean to know why he'd gone and kissed her brains out like that. She licked her lips and thought of something, anything, that would take her mind off of it. Finally, she pulled out her change from tips and headed for the jukebox. It was in there, she knew it was. G11.
Dean frowned at the song that blared out of the jukebox. "Sheryl Crow? Seriously?"
"I like this song." Liz answered vaguely. "You listen to older music more obsessively. I haven't heard this song in years."
"I thought we'd taught you better."
"Old habits die hard." Liz frowned as she swept the floor. It had been a bad choice. It had been her song with Future Max. Not only had Alex been robbed of 12 years of his life because of the events of that night but Max had been robbed of six years as well. Angrily, she strode back to the jukebox and punched another button. Any button. The strains of "Gone, Gone, Gone" floated out and she couldn't help but laugh.
"I told you. Easiest way to have a good time." He shrugged. "You don't even have to think about it. You just do. You never over-think it. You just… take the moment as it comes."
"I guess so." Liz nodded, realizing he wasn't just talking about the music anymore. She had an out. A way to not have to acknowledge it if she so chose. "When it comes around, you remember how much fun it is. Just not something you go seeking out. It's just a song that you hear once in a while. "
"Right." He turned to look at her with furrowed brows, unsure how exactly to take her dismissal of what he'd been trying to say.
"And I have you to thank. I would have never considered it if you hadn't brought it to my attention." Liz tossed her trash and put away her broom. "If you'll excuse me. I have errands to run before the evening rush."
The following night…
(October 3, 2009)
Liz traced the knife with a finger. She knew every inch and contour. She had learned them well after Sam and Dean had relinquished them to her. She wanted to learn how to throw them. "So, I hold it like this."
"And you throw it." Dean took the second blade and threw it through the bull's eye. "See there. Easy."
"Just throw it." Liz stared at the dartboard. Then she watched the lines of Dean's body as he threw another. "Okay." She drew her arm back and sent the blade flying. It hit the outer ring and fell to the floor. "I suck."
"Follow through with your fingers." Sam advised without looking up from his obits.
She turned to him with raised eyebrows. "You weren't even watching."
"Dean didn't say it and I felt I should…" He commented with the pen sticking out of his mouth. "Since I heard the knife hit the floor and all."
"I have not been trained since birth to throw a knife, forgive me." She grumbled as she gathered the knives together again.
Marty glared at them. "If you miss the board and hit the wall, I'll make you pay for it." He slammed a tub of bottles into the garbage. "Lillian, you have tables to bus."
Liz set the knives down and moved about gathering empties. When she took the glasses to the kitchen for a washing, Marty gave her a look. "What? Marty, you've been in a bad mood all night."
"Just don't get too attached to those boys, Lillian. You're a good kid. You've been helping them out and yeah… they repay the favors but… try to steer clear." He turned to hose down a bunch of plates, knowing that she was standing there and silently asking for an explanation. "We're in dangerous times in the spirit world these days, kiddo. You're a magnet for danger as it is and hanging out with those boys is like holding hands with a lightning rod… visions or no visions."
"You think I'm a magnet for danger?" she asked then scoffed. She turned to leave the kitchen but stopped. "You'd be right."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"No, you're right. All I ever did for my husband was attract trouble. Hanging around trouble would just be asking for something bad to happen." She leaned on a counter. "Why are you just now concerned with my safety, Marty? Is it all the traffic we've had lately?" He didn't answer her; he just bent over the sink to rinse the dishes. "Marty, come on. How can I know to look out if I don't know that something's coming?"
"Trust us to take care of you, Lillian… or Liz… or whatever the hell your name is."
"Marty…" Liz sighed. "Yeah, I told them my real name first. But they're nosy. They found me on the internet and spooked my folks. You didn't go snooping. My name is Liz Evans. My parents own a theme restaurant that used to be a roadhouse bar, probably a lot like this one. It's never been clear to me but Parker's was a bar where the soldiers would hang out off duty."
He wouldn’t meet her eyes when he uttered his next words. "Just don't go falling for one of them boys, Lillian. If you get your heart broken… somebody's gonna die."
Stunned, she tried not to let it show that his words had bothered her. "I hadn't planned on it, Marty."
"Good to hear."
Liz moved around in a daze. She had too many thoughts running around in her head. Too many thoughts about her family, about her dead husband, about her friends both new and old, about recent events and about what Marty wasn’t saying when he'd gotten grouchy.
"What's got you thinking so hard?"
"Butterflies." Liz blurted out before she realized that the question wasn't one that needed an answer. She looked up to find a pair of confused green eyes.
"What?" Dean shook his head.
"I have butterflies… in my stomach." 'Shut up, Liz.' He just stared at her. Her face flushed a deep red. She shouldn't have tried to explain but she had started to and now she had to finish. If it wasn't obvious to her, it still might be obvious to other people… which was probably what Marty was hinting at. "I knew you were coming tonight and I got butterflies." He bowed his head slightly. "Because of the other night."
"Right." He shrugged. "What do butterflies have to do with it?"
"Because you dangled something in front of me that I was looking for. Because you… I don't know." She glanced around. No one was around that could hear. "You kissed me. You were doing me a favor and thanks but… I'm a woman, Dean. I have needs and a kiss is a promise of needs being met."
"Maybe I shouldn’t have."
"Maybe."
"I didn't promise…"
"No but…" Liz took a breath. "Look. Maybe it means that I'm not ready to be… putting myself on the market or anything but… you can't just do that to me. You can't just kiss me and it mean nothing. It's not even that I wanted it to mean something but… Damn you."
"Damn me?"
"You got me all twisted up in knots over something that was clearly not even… It's my fault. I told you that I hadn't ever been with another man. There were only a handful to ever kiss me aside from him. Only a handful and none of them ever made me feel the way he did when he… then you go and kiss me out of my wits and then I got butterflies."
"You hate me." He tried to remind her. He was a little afraid to lift his eyes to someone who was clearly upset with him for what he'd been told was a pleasurable experience for several women in the past.
Liz deflated a bit. He had been trying to help, not propose. It wasn't like she had expected him to feel something. He had done it to help her make up her mind and it hadn't helped a bit… and that wasn't his fault. "I never hated you."
"You blamed me." His eyes whipped up to hers. Pain and regret shone out from the green depths.
"I never thought it was your fault." She laid a hand on his arm, he flinched but she didn't move it. "I'm sorry if I made you feel like it was. There was not a thing you could have done differently that wouldn't have gotten you killed too." His eyes slid away from hers. There was more than enough guilt going around over Max's death but she had to be clear. "I never hated you. I was afraid of you."
"Afraid of me?" Why had she said those words? He could feel the walls closing in on him.
"Don't ask me to explain that right now." She took a breath and straightened. "Look… just… I…" she huffed suddenly. "I'm gonna be here. I have nowhere else to go where people would understand or accept my choices. You're gonna drive through here because that monster needs fixing after all the damage you put her through. I like to think we're friends but I can't have this… thing. Not right now."
"I wasn't looking for anything. Like I was… sort of saying yesterday… It was a… in the moment kind of thing."
"Okay. The moment's over." She picked up a towel and left him at the counter so she could wipe down the tables.
TBC
Part 32 – Two weeks later…
(October 17, 2009)
Kyle set down the box. "Do you know what this is?"
Liz blinked at him and the item he set before her on the bar. "A box?"
"Yes, a box. But do you know what's in the box?"
"A gift?"
"You're a smart ass today. I see." Kyle nodded and gestured to the box. "It's from Betty Lou."
"Oooh." Liz smiled and leaned on the counter. "Are you going to open it?"
"Depends, do you know what it is?" He laid a finger on the box. "She gave it to me this morning as she was walking out the door. I shook it. It doesn't make a sound."
"Why don't you open it?"
"Because I figured it out. This is a test. My reaction to opening this gift is paramount to further instances of my getting laid by Betty Lou. If I react the wrong way, it's over. I know it. If I react the right way… it still might be over because I don’t know what the gift is and so I don't know what the proper reaction is." He all but collapsed on the bar top.
"So, what are you going to do?"
"She didn't tell you?"
She scoffed at him. He was being ridiculous. "Kyle. You love her."
"Maybe." He groaned and picked up the box.
"You love Betty and no matter what's in that box, you're going to be okay with it. You practically live there as it is."
"I do?" Kyle looked up, back straight. "Do I, really?"
"Yeah, the last two weeks, you haven't come to the cottage. You pay rent, which I like, but you don't eat my food or use my shower, which I also like." Liz stood up and pointed to the box. "Are you ready to admit you're ready for the box?"
"She is nice. Dad says he likes her already. He's coming up, soon. Might be good to have someplace to call home… But… she has to ask me if I want to move in. I can't just… start living there."
"You already are." She pointed out.
"Okay. I'm ready." Kyle pulled the top off the box and packed deep in cotton was a key. "Okay… I'm ready. I'm ready. This is the key to her apartment."
"Big step, that OFFICIAL moving in."
"Yeah… yeah…" Kyle nodded to himself. "I might have to tell her my real name soon." He tapped the bar. "Which means you're going shopping with me."
--
Dean paced the room with his hands braced behind his neck. "So, the groundskeeper tosses the bodies in the furnace."
"That would smell. I'm sure somebody would have figured it out."
"Not if the nosey people ended up in the furnace too… or if he… He could have shut off the valve to the hotel and channeled the smoke somewhere else, right?"
"In theory… but still… even a body at a time, that's a lot of work and dude… it would smell nasty." Sam screwed up his face. "I mean, we're talking a smell worse than your feet."
"Funny guy." Dean picked up a pillow and launched it at his brother. "Like I was saying, the groundskeeper and the staff are the only ones who survive this massacre. When the old kook kicks the bucket, only the staff is around to take care of his remains. How much you want to bet they let the state take possession of the remains and he got pauper's burial?"
"Which is what?"
"In these parts? They dug a hole and dumped him in it. A piece of paper to mark the plot."
"All we need is the plot number."
"Not so easy. We can get the number because the girl I talked to sneaked a peak at my baby brother's picture and asked all sorts of questions. Clearly, she has no taste." Dean made a face. "The hard part is that it's not just one spirit haunting the place."
"So?"
"So, we need to turn on the furnace and salt the ashes." He paused. "Well, it's probably safer to salt and then turn on the furnace but you get the point."
"Okay, are we sure this is going to work? This sounds like a job we have to split up for."
"Which do you want?"
"As much as I'd love to stay out of that basement? I'll take the furnace or you'll blow yourself up."
--
Liz glanced around the pawn shop. Betty Lou was not going to like anything Kyle picked out and he couldn't seem to see that. "I'm getting some air."
"No, Lillian. You have to help me." Kyle pleaded.
"This is all crap. I wouldn't take anything from here as a gift and neither would she." Liz stepped outside and had a look up and down the strip. It was a quiet town but not without its modern conveniences. Cell phone distributors, two or three fast food franchises that were also known outside the state… So she took her time, window-shopping while Kyle debated the gaudy faux-emerald or the faux-sapphire with a chip in it.
When she stopped in front of the cell phone place, she eyed her beat-up piece of circuits. It wouldn't hurt to look around. The salespeople were crowded around a small TV in the back, leaving her to browse in peace. She leaned over to look into the glass case. Her fingers slid over the glass as she contemplated one ridiculously overpriced phone after another. "You're a peach." Liz didn't know where the words had come from. She shook her head and continued her perusal of the display. Then the words came again but she managed not to speak them aloud and grab anyone's attention. Focusing, she slid her fingers back over the glass…
The young woman looked up when the shadow fell over her counter. A flash of white teeth set in a scruffy beard and accompanied by a manly scent. His eyes sparkled as he inclined his head to her. "Pardon me, darlin’… I was wondering if you could help me out."
The smile completely disarmed her. "Um… maybe. Were you looking to buy a phone?"
"It's a bit embarrassing, actually." A sheepish grin overtook his face and a hint of a blush touched what she could see of his cheeks. "I'm about to admit my age. My boys, they gave me this new cell phone for my birthday." He pulled it out of his pocket to show her. "My oldest keeps telling me not to call him for every little thing. He keeps talking about this… texting thing… but I can't get this thing figured out… My toaster is smarter than I am."
"Well, let's see." She took it from him and flipped it open. "I'll bet I'll have this figured out in just a minute."
"Thank you, darlin’. You're a peach." He tapped the glass with his finger.
She smiled at him. "And I couldn't begin to guess your age. My ex couldn't work a pot of water and he was 30."
A crooked smile spread across his face. "Are you hitting on me? I'm old enough to be your daddy."
"Ma'am, can I help you?" The same woman from her vision spoke. Different hairstyle and a slight change in makeup but definitely the same woman.
Liz cleared her throat. "Um, I was just looking." Then, on a whim, she screwed up her mouth. "I was looking for something that was good for texting. My friends keep telling me that it's something I should start doing."
"Amen. It's only the best thing to happen to phones since slim lined batteries." The woman began pulling a few phones out of the case. "I'm always surprised at how many people don't text yet."
"Oh?"
"Sometimes I get it. People are older and they aren't up on technology." She went on. "But I had this man in, once. He swears that he was old enough to be my father but my father couldn't have picked up texting half as fast as this guy."
"Oh yeah?"
"He was cute so I spent extra time on him." The woman winked. "He claimed he had two grown boys but I didn't buy it. Maybe he thought he'd be more convincing as a text novice if he were that old."
"Sounds like he made quite an impression."
"This is a small town and strangers make a mark. So, which one of these phones looks like something you could wear your thumbs down to nubs on?"
--
Shaking dirt off his shoulders, Dean picked up the tin of salt and gave the corpse a good dousing. Lighter fluid. Matches. "Awesome."
Dean watched it burn for a moment before gathering his supplies to get back to the Impala. He was just sitting down when the ground shook. The night sky exploded with light and then a siren went off. "Sammy."
--
"I'm getting retro-vision." Liz hissed to Kyle as she took her seat across from him at the local restaurant he'd chosen for their evening meal.
"What's that mean?"
"The headache-free visions are back. I had one but it… wasn't of things to come. It was something that already happened."
"How do you know that? We don’t come here that often."
"Because one of the people in it has been dead for several years."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. This woman who was in it, I got her to verify it without… you know, giving myself away. Anyway. Confirmed past event."
"Wow. Cool."
"Not cool, Kyle. My life is complicated enough as it is."
"No it's not."
"What?" She blinked at him and his stern tone.
"Your life is not as complicated as you make it out to be. So what if you're an altered human who shoots electricity when she's emotional and gets weird future specs and migraines and blah, blah. You work and you hang with me. That's not a life. You don't have romantic interests, which isn't the real issue. You barely have hobbies and you throw knives at a dartboard on your breaks from work, which you take while still at work." He met her eyes with a serious look. "You could do with some complications in your life."
--
Dean slammed on the brakes almost a second too late. He missed the burning inferno of a hotel by mere feet. Throwing it into park, he didn't even bother to shut off the engine before he was tearing inside the hotel with his jacket pulled over his face. No one was supposed to be inside. Authorities would probably let it burn down. Hell, the owner might request it after all the strange things that had been going on but Dean was concerned with one thing. "Sammy!"
He could hear the sirens nearing and he knew he was the closest no matter how many fire brigade volunteers actually decided to risk their lives to find the guy who left the car running out front. Then he couldn't hear anything at all because the roar of the fire was all around him as he raced down the corridors to get to his baby brother. "Sammy! Answer me!"
Silently, he thanked whoever would listen that the spirits had obviously been taken care of and weren't making his trek any worse. Smoke crept into his jacket. A jacket he had chosen because it had a lot of pockets and made him look cool rather than it could keep smoke out of his lungs. "Sammy! Dammit! If you die before I find you, I'll kill you!"
--
Kyle tapped his straw against the cleft of his chin. "Okay. Let's reexamine every vision you ever had. Let's assume that your darling man wasn't the key factor. He woke up the ability in you and maybe helped push it along but it's all you."
"Okay. We were making out. I was touching him. Visions were about him, coinciding with myself and others we knew. I did get one from a woman who was going to die."
"You weren't in her vision."
"No. She got shot and died. I touched her moments before it was going to happen. I panicked and dragged Max outside and he stopped it."
"And every vision after that… you touched something or someone related to the event to occur."
"Right… I think."
"Okay, so the visions you started getting that had headaches attached to them…"
"Maybe I was around people involved in them. I don't know if they would have had I not intervened." She flicked a tater tot into the nearby trash can. "It's not the first time I had a flashback of the past though."
"What was the first?"
"I was with Max, in Bobby's junkyard. I sat on a car with dried blood on it. It was old but I felt what the man felt who died. I didn't have the whole scope of vision with it… probably because the guy died." She paused. "It was the same guy."
"It was. Do I know him?"
"No. I only met him once myself. I… huh… he was a demon hunter and I see his past?" She looked up at her friend. "Is there a reason I was given this gift? Seeing the future so hunters could have successful hunts?"
"But there's always a specific hunter when you see your visions?"
"Well, yeah. I mean… in the vision, Dean and Sam get there too late but after I tell them what I know… they get there sooner and they save somebody's life."
"Okay… so why those two guys?"
"I don't know. If I knew that, I'd probably bring it up."
"Okay, okay." Kyle took a deep breath. "Okay. Go with me and Buddha on this. All things being connected: You ran into the guy that you would later have past visions of. Why get the visions if he's dead? Some trace of him left behind. Blood or fingerprints, real or spiritual. A player in the scheme of things. In the scheme of your life. If it had nothing to do with your life in any way shape or form, then you wouldn't be getting them. You're a catalyst."
"A catalyst."
"Maybe you always have been." He folded his hands together in front of his face. "Alien king falls in love with you. Saves your life. Outs himself. His love and connection with you answers questions about who he is and where he came from. He didn't always know he was a king. You were the catalyst. Without his saving your life and bonding with you on that level, he would have never known. You were having visions of his life because they became intertwined." He motioned to her. "You hadn't quite developed that aspect of your mind and Max kind of shoved it along. Then Max died."
"Okay…"
"So, you felt him die but when he came back to life, you didn't feel it. You still thought he was dead, right?"
"Well, I guess. It didn't just come back when he started breathing again."
"Maybe it never came back." He nodded. "So the visions you get are stronger if they're from Max but he wasn't responsible for the one with the lady in the alley. You see?"
"I'm not alien dependent for my powers."
"Right."
"But what about the visions I have that I don't remember?"
"Well, we'll have to wait and see on those."
“Okay, if I’m a catalyst… would these things happen if I wasn’t around to point people in the right direction?” Liz frowned deeply at the thought. “Do I cause as much as I prevent?”
“Heavy. I don’t know. Maybe we’ll never know.”
TBC
(October 17, 2009)
Kyle set down the box. "Do you know what this is?"
Liz blinked at him and the item he set before her on the bar. "A box?"
"Yes, a box. But do you know what's in the box?"
"A gift?"
"You're a smart ass today. I see." Kyle nodded and gestured to the box. "It's from Betty Lou."
"Oooh." Liz smiled and leaned on the counter. "Are you going to open it?"
"Depends, do you know what it is?" He laid a finger on the box. "She gave it to me this morning as she was walking out the door. I shook it. It doesn't make a sound."
"Why don't you open it?"
"Because I figured it out. This is a test. My reaction to opening this gift is paramount to further instances of my getting laid by Betty Lou. If I react the wrong way, it's over. I know it. If I react the right way… it still might be over because I don’t know what the gift is and so I don't know what the proper reaction is." He all but collapsed on the bar top.
"So, what are you going to do?"
"She didn't tell you?"
She scoffed at him. He was being ridiculous. "Kyle. You love her."
"Maybe." He groaned and picked up the box.
"You love Betty and no matter what's in that box, you're going to be okay with it. You practically live there as it is."
"I do?" Kyle looked up, back straight. "Do I, really?"
"Yeah, the last two weeks, you haven't come to the cottage. You pay rent, which I like, but you don't eat my food or use my shower, which I also like." Liz stood up and pointed to the box. "Are you ready to admit you're ready for the box?"
"She is nice. Dad says he likes her already. He's coming up, soon. Might be good to have someplace to call home… But… she has to ask me if I want to move in. I can't just… start living there."
"You already are." She pointed out.
"Okay. I'm ready." Kyle pulled the top off the box and packed deep in cotton was a key. "Okay… I'm ready. I'm ready. This is the key to her apartment."
"Big step, that OFFICIAL moving in."
"Yeah… yeah…" Kyle nodded to himself. "I might have to tell her my real name soon." He tapped the bar. "Which means you're going shopping with me."
--
Dean paced the room with his hands braced behind his neck. "So, the groundskeeper tosses the bodies in the furnace."
"That would smell. I'm sure somebody would have figured it out."
"Not if the nosey people ended up in the furnace too… or if he… He could have shut off the valve to the hotel and channeled the smoke somewhere else, right?"
"In theory… but still… even a body at a time, that's a lot of work and dude… it would smell nasty." Sam screwed up his face. "I mean, we're talking a smell worse than your feet."
"Funny guy." Dean picked up a pillow and launched it at his brother. "Like I was saying, the groundskeeper and the staff are the only ones who survive this massacre. When the old kook kicks the bucket, only the staff is around to take care of his remains. How much you want to bet they let the state take possession of the remains and he got pauper's burial?"
"Which is what?"
"In these parts? They dug a hole and dumped him in it. A piece of paper to mark the plot."
"All we need is the plot number."
"Not so easy. We can get the number because the girl I talked to sneaked a peak at my baby brother's picture and asked all sorts of questions. Clearly, she has no taste." Dean made a face. "The hard part is that it's not just one spirit haunting the place."
"So?"
"So, we need to turn on the furnace and salt the ashes." He paused. "Well, it's probably safer to salt and then turn on the furnace but you get the point."
"Okay, are we sure this is going to work? This sounds like a job we have to split up for."
"Which do you want?"
"As much as I'd love to stay out of that basement? I'll take the furnace or you'll blow yourself up."
--
Liz glanced around the pawn shop. Betty Lou was not going to like anything Kyle picked out and he couldn't seem to see that. "I'm getting some air."
"No, Lillian. You have to help me." Kyle pleaded.
"This is all crap. I wouldn't take anything from here as a gift and neither would she." Liz stepped outside and had a look up and down the strip. It was a quiet town but not without its modern conveniences. Cell phone distributors, two or three fast food franchises that were also known outside the state… So she took her time, window-shopping while Kyle debated the gaudy faux-emerald or the faux-sapphire with a chip in it.
When she stopped in front of the cell phone place, she eyed her beat-up piece of circuits. It wouldn't hurt to look around. The salespeople were crowded around a small TV in the back, leaving her to browse in peace. She leaned over to look into the glass case. Her fingers slid over the glass as she contemplated one ridiculously overpriced phone after another. "You're a peach." Liz didn't know where the words had come from. She shook her head and continued her perusal of the display. Then the words came again but she managed not to speak them aloud and grab anyone's attention. Focusing, she slid her fingers back over the glass…
The young woman looked up when the shadow fell over her counter. A flash of white teeth set in a scruffy beard and accompanied by a manly scent. His eyes sparkled as he inclined his head to her. "Pardon me, darlin’… I was wondering if you could help me out."
The smile completely disarmed her. "Um… maybe. Were you looking to buy a phone?"
"It's a bit embarrassing, actually." A sheepish grin overtook his face and a hint of a blush touched what she could see of his cheeks. "I'm about to admit my age. My boys, they gave me this new cell phone for my birthday." He pulled it out of his pocket to show her. "My oldest keeps telling me not to call him for every little thing. He keeps talking about this… texting thing… but I can't get this thing figured out… My toaster is smarter than I am."
"Well, let's see." She took it from him and flipped it open. "I'll bet I'll have this figured out in just a minute."
"Thank you, darlin’. You're a peach." He tapped the glass with his finger.
She smiled at him. "And I couldn't begin to guess your age. My ex couldn't work a pot of water and he was 30."
A crooked smile spread across his face. "Are you hitting on me? I'm old enough to be your daddy."
"Ma'am, can I help you?" The same woman from her vision spoke. Different hairstyle and a slight change in makeup but definitely the same woman.
Liz cleared her throat. "Um, I was just looking." Then, on a whim, she screwed up her mouth. "I was looking for something that was good for texting. My friends keep telling me that it's something I should start doing."
"Amen. It's only the best thing to happen to phones since slim lined batteries." The woman began pulling a few phones out of the case. "I'm always surprised at how many people don't text yet."
"Oh?"
"Sometimes I get it. People are older and they aren't up on technology." She went on. "But I had this man in, once. He swears that he was old enough to be my father but my father couldn't have picked up texting half as fast as this guy."
"Oh yeah?"
"He was cute so I spent extra time on him." The woman winked. "He claimed he had two grown boys but I didn't buy it. Maybe he thought he'd be more convincing as a text novice if he were that old."
"Sounds like he made quite an impression."
"This is a small town and strangers make a mark. So, which one of these phones looks like something you could wear your thumbs down to nubs on?"
--
Shaking dirt off his shoulders, Dean picked up the tin of salt and gave the corpse a good dousing. Lighter fluid. Matches. "Awesome."
Dean watched it burn for a moment before gathering his supplies to get back to the Impala. He was just sitting down when the ground shook. The night sky exploded with light and then a siren went off. "Sammy."
--
"I'm getting retro-vision." Liz hissed to Kyle as she took her seat across from him at the local restaurant he'd chosen for their evening meal.
"What's that mean?"
"The headache-free visions are back. I had one but it… wasn't of things to come. It was something that already happened."
"How do you know that? We don’t come here that often."
"Because one of the people in it has been dead for several years."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. This woman who was in it, I got her to verify it without… you know, giving myself away. Anyway. Confirmed past event."
"Wow. Cool."
"Not cool, Kyle. My life is complicated enough as it is."
"No it's not."
"What?" She blinked at him and his stern tone.
"Your life is not as complicated as you make it out to be. So what if you're an altered human who shoots electricity when she's emotional and gets weird future specs and migraines and blah, blah. You work and you hang with me. That's not a life. You don't have romantic interests, which isn't the real issue. You barely have hobbies and you throw knives at a dartboard on your breaks from work, which you take while still at work." He met her eyes with a serious look. "You could do with some complications in your life."
--
Dean slammed on the brakes almost a second too late. He missed the burning inferno of a hotel by mere feet. Throwing it into park, he didn't even bother to shut off the engine before he was tearing inside the hotel with his jacket pulled over his face. No one was supposed to be inside. Authorities would probably let it burn down. Hell, the owner might request it after all the strange things that had been going on but Dean was concerned with one thing. "Sammy!"
He could hear the sirens nearing and he knew he was the closest no matter how many fire brigade volunteers actually decided to risk their lives to find the guy who left the car running out front. Then he couldn't hear anything at all because the roar of the fire was all around him as he raced down the corridors to get to his baby brother. "Sammy! Answer me!"
Silently, he thanked whoever would listen that the spirits had obviously been taken care of and weren't making his trek any worse. Smoke crept into his jacket. A jacket he had chosen because it had a lot of pockets and made him look cool rather than it could keep smoke out of his lungs. "Sammy! Dammit! If you die before I find you, I'll kill you!"
--
Kyle tapped his straw against the cleft of his chin. "Okay. Let's reexamine every vision you ever had. Let's assume that your darling man wasn't the key factor. He woke up the ability in you and maybe helped push it along but it's all you."
"Okay. We were making out. I was touching him. Visions were about him, coinciding with myself and others we knew. I did get one from a woman who was going to die."
"You weren't in her vision."
"No. She got shot and died. I touched her moments before it was going to happen. I panicked and dragged Max outside and he stopped it."
"And every vision after that… you touched something or someone related to the event to occur."
"Right… I think."
"Okay, so the visions you started getting that had headaches attached to them…"
"Maybe I was around people involved in them. I don't know if they would have had I not intervened." She flicked a tater tot into the nearby trash can. "It's not the first time I had a flashback of the past though."
"What was the first?"
"I was with Max, in Bobby's junkyard. I sat on a car with dried blood on it. It was old but I felt what the man felt who died. I didn't have the whole scope of vision with it… probably because the guy died." She paused. "It was the same guy."
"It was. Do I know him?"
"No. I only met him once myself. I… huh… he was a demon hunter and I see his past?" She looked up at her friend. "Is there a reason I was given this gift? Seeing the future so hunters could have successful hunts?"
"But there's always a specific hunter when you see your visions?"
"Well, yeah. I mean… in the vision, Dean and Sam get there too late but after I tell them what I know… they get there sooner and they save somebody's life."
"Okay… so why those two guys?"
"I don't know. If I knew that, I'd probably bring it up."
"Okay, okay." Kyle took a deep breath. "Okay. Go with me and Buddha on this. All things being connected: You ran into the guy that you would later have past visions of. Why get the visions if he's dead? Some trace of him left behind. Blood or fingerprints, real or spiritual. A player in the scheme of things. In the scheme of your life. If it had nothing to do with your life in any way shape or form, then you wouldn't be getting them. You're a catalyst."
"A catalyst."
"Maybe you always have been." He folded his hands together in front of his face. "Alien king falls in love with you. Saves your life. Outs himself. His love and connection with you answers questions about who he is and where he came from. He didn't always know he was a king. You were the catalyst. Without his saving your life and bonding with you on that level, he would have never known. You were having visions of his life because they became intertwined." He motioned to her. "You hadn't quite developed that aspect of your mind and Max kind of shoved it along. Then Max died."
"Okay…"
"So, you felt him die but when he came back to life, you didn't feel it. You still thought he was dead, right?"
"Well, I guess. It didn't just come back when he started breathing again."
"Maybe it never came back." He nodded. "So the visions you get are stronger if they're from Max but he wasn't responsible for the one with the lady in the alley. You see?"
"I'm not alien dependent for my powers."
"Right."
"But what about the visions I have that I don't remember?"
"Well, we'll have to wait and see on those."
“Okay, if I’m a catalyst… would these things happen if I wasn’t around to point people in the right direction?” Liz frowned deeply at the thought. “Do I cause as much as I prevent?”
“Heavy. I don’t know. Maybe we’ll never know.”
TBC
part 33
Part 33 – The next day
(October 18, 2009)
"Mr. Cordova." The voice came from overhead. Dean picked up his head and blinked at the bright lights of the hospital. He hadn’t been sleeping but he had gotten tired of the pitying looks from the families of other patients. He must have been pretending to sleep a lot longer than he’d thought. "He's awake."
"Is he okay?" Dean rubbed his face hard. He needed to shave.
"There were some third degree burns but only 5 percent coverage. He does have 20 percent second degree burns though."
"What does that mean?"
"It means extensive time recuperating. Chance of infection. I wouldn't recommend moving him at any time, soon." The doctor tilted his head at the man. "I hear you're anxious to be out of here."
Dean was too tired to make up a convincing lie. He had a second degree burn that he'd received treatment for but that he'd refused pain meds for. He lifted his eyes to the well-meaning man. "We don’t like hospitals. Our father died in one."
"The cops aren't pressing charges."
"It's not about that." Dean had to stop himself from yelling. "How long does he need to stay in the hospital?"
"Two weeks and that's barring complications and infections."
"So… if he does get an infection, it could be longer."
"I'm afraid so."
"Can I go in and scare the germs into behaving?"
"Yeah, you can see him now but you have to put on a gown." He reached back and pulled a disposable gown from a rack. He hesitated when he turned back. "After you see your brother, we'd like to have a talk with you about all the breaks we found when we looked at his x-rays."
"He broke something else?"
"He broke a leg that has scarring from previous breaks and it's not the only one. After you talk to him. I want to talk to you."
Dean stood and readjusted his shirt. A childhood full of meetings with CPS or FPS or whatever whichever state was calling it at the time had been full of expressions like the one the doctor wore. They weren’t kids anymore but the look was the same. "The kid has a hero complex and he's too old to be pulling this shit. He's always hurting himself, saving other people. I'll talk to him."
Taking the gown, he slipped it on and followed the doctor to the sterile room where Sam was laid out. The burns looked bad but Sam still managed a joke at his brother's expense. "You look like shit run over twice and backed over…” Dean didn’t laugh. “It's a joke… cause I'm the one with the… burns and blisters. Ha. Ha."
"Yeah, yeah. Ha. Ha. Fireball." Dean sat so he could see his brother's face without turning his head and aggravating his own burns. "I'm sorry I couldn't get there sooner."
"No big. Furnace would have killed you, you wuss. I'm alive."
"They said two weeks, Sammy."
"Bullshit." Sam shook his head and let it drop onto his pillow. "Come on. It's not that bad."
"I'll negotiate but they have a point. What didn't you burn? Your nads? Your ass?" Dean tamped down the urge to beat something. "Hey… if you have powers of healing, now would be the time to let them loose, you know." Dean shut his eyes against the sight of blisters and fried skin. "You in pain?"
"Some."
"Okay. I'll talk to the doctor. I gotta find a place to sleep while I plan how to spring you."
"Get me out of here soon."
"I'll try."
--
Dean lay out on the bed and held his finger over the talk button. He debated with himself for ten minutes before pushing it. After several rings, he got a breathless answer. "Hello?"
"Lillian, it's Dean." He blew out a breath. "I have to ask you some questions. You're pretty smart, so I figure you'd know what I'm talking about."
"Is something wrong?" Liz dropped onto her new bed. It had taken her forever to get it just where she wanted it and then she had lost track of her phone.
"If someone had… 25 percent burn coverage on their body… would it be okay to move them?"
"What kind of burns? First degree, second degree, third degree?"
"5 percent third and 20 percent second."
"Where are the 5 percent located?"
"On an arm. Most of the other burns are on his chest, other arm and his thighs. Barely sunburned on the face. They say infection is a worry, though."
"Then I wouldn't move him. Is he okay, Dean? Is Sam okay?" Liz felt so tired.
"Yeah. He's talking okay. He's in pain, though." Dean had to clear his throat against the tears that had crept in. "He broke his leg again. I guess it hadn't healed fully."
"Because of his crappy diet." Liz joked humorlessly.
"Right."
"Are you okay?"
"Banged up. Some burns. I'm okay."
"You went in after him, didn't you."
"I had nothing better to do."
"Dean. Are you okay?" He didn't answer her. "Do you want me to come?" He didn't answer her. "What name did you admit him under? I want to send him some cheesy balloons."
"Cordova. We're in Mississippi. A town called…"
"Duryea. I talked to Sam before your hunt."
"I'm okay. Don't come down here." Dean breathed out harshly. "Don't come. I can take care of my brother. So… definitely stay then. Keep him in the hospital?"
"Yeah… is there a reason not to stay?"
"Fake stuff… like always."
"Then be careful." Liz frowned into the phone. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."
"Thanks."
--
Sam rested his head between drinks of water from the very kind and very beautiful nurse who had been assigned to his room. Dean watched for a minute. His brother was in high spirits for someone who could have died in that inferno. Though, with a nurse like that… Then the flowers and balloons caught his attention. "Who sent those?"
"They're from Lillian." Sam struggled not to cough on his water. His brother had scared him. "How'd she know where we were?"
The nurse scooted passed Dean on her way out. Dean shut the door and sat down at the foot of the bed. "I told her."
"Okay." Sam nodded. "Why? You're always harping on me for talking to her."
"Cause, Sammy. You talk to her and you take care of me. We're doing the reverse right now. She says it's not safe to move you right now. Even if I wanted to break you out. I shouldn't." Dean looked up at his little brother. "I've taken enough chances with you lately. Let's just… cool our heels here for a while."
"And do what?"
"I have a deck of cards." Dean pulled the new deck from his jacket pocket. "And I always wanted to read that book you were talking about."
"No, you don’t."
"No, but I've got a couple of weeks to try."
A month later…
(November 15, 2009)
Liz swept through the small crowds with beer and whiskey for the tables. She had given her nods to the guys when she saw them wander in but she had made it a point to be a bit busy.
Dean kept his head low as he pretended to scan the stack of obits for anything that would get them on the road sooner rather than later. Sammy had commandeered them a booth so he could keep his leg elevated. Sam was bored. He had a couple of weeks left to keep the cast on. The doctor had wanted him to leave it on a full two months because it was the second time he'd broken it. When Liz scooted passed, he grabbed her attention. "Lil, take your break with us. If I don't get some intelligent conversation soon, I'll shoot myself."
"You can't have intelligent conversation with your brother?"
"Would you think about what you just said?" Sam rolled his eyes.
"Better be glad your leg is in that thing or I'd kick it." Dean muttered. He was promptly smacked upside the head with a dishtowel.
"I'm busy now but I'll stop by later." Liz promised Sam.
"Well, I'm holing up at Bobby's. Trying to dry out the card trail." He gestured to his leg. "The burns and the leg ate up the credit limit and alerted the company."
"I'll make sure Bobby takes care of you."
--
Liz plopped down in Dean's empty seat. Sam was busy doodling in the margins of his newspaper. "So, you ready to kill him yet?"
"Yes and he's acting strange. He's quiet and brooding but not in the fun way. No practical jokes, no jokes about getting me laid, which… I'm doing just fine on." He sighed and sat back. "He's pretty insistent that we not trot around just now. He wants to get a whole new set of cards and IDs."
"Sounds like he's not going to risk going off half-cocked for a while." She slid a beer his way. She was having one, as well. She was done for the night.
"Maybe." He shrugged. "Thanks again for the balloons and flowers. We had fun pulling the petals off and popping them to scare the nurses."
"You guys are so bad."
"What about you?" Sam gestured around the bar. "Same old scene but you seem different."
"You know me. Avoiding the visions and keeping an eye out for the guy in tight jeans that I want to take me home." She laughed to herself. "But taking that step on the truckers is not a good idea. I don't want to go to Rutherford and hit up the clubs without a wingman to make sure I'm safe."
"Then comes the thought that if the wingman is watching after you, the wingman knows what you're doing."
"Exactly." She laughed again and ignored the screech of a chair as Dean pulled up to the table. She was glad he chose not to box her in on her side of the booth. He set three shots on the table. "What's this?"
"Shot of courage." He shrugged.
"You might need it." Sam nodded and slammed his down. "She's thinking about taking one of those tourists to bed."
"Right." Dean slammed his shot and chased with a pull off his beer.
"I just wish I could know that I could have a good time with a guy, get my ya-yas out and not worry about anything." She sighed and slid her finger around the rim of the shot. "You know? Be honest without getting in too deep."
Dean blew out a breath. "Be careful what you wish for. Any one of your circumstances is daunting but they're all converged to make a terrifying prospect for a potential lover."
"How's that?" Liz tossed back the shot and busied herself stacking their shot glasses and sliding the empties to the table's edge for the waitress on duty.
"Okay. You've only been with one man. That's like… You're practically a virgin. Your last lover was your soul mate or whatever. Gah!" Dean shuddered. "You're a widow who hasn't been with a man since he died. And… I hear that your husband was some kind of notorious bad boy in the sack."
"And that's all daunting to a prospect for any future lover?" She shook her head and took a long pull on her bottle.
"Hell, yes."
"Maybe I shouldn't advertise all that, then."
"So you're going to pick up a random guy in the bar so he doesn't know any of that about you?" He prodded.
"You're the expert on getting laid. Tell me my approach."
Dean stared at her and thought about the brief kiss they'd had after closing that one night. They had both pretended that it hadn't happened afterward. For the sake of their friendship. Though, the awkward silences and glances said that things weren’t going to be easy. "You're not going to pick up a guy in this bar. If you do, you'll regret it. You're not that kind of person."
"Then who am I going to learn to date?"
"You don't date, Lillian. You fall in love."
"He's right." Sam interjected. "Maybe you have an itch but just a scratch isn't good enough for you."
"You don't know how depressing that sounds." Liz finished off her beer and pushed it to the edge of the table with the others. Dean leaned back and motioned with his hand for another round. "So, sticking around, huh, guys? You'll drive yourselves crazy."
"Have to. Doc says we need to let the leg set fully." Dean shrugged.
"It'll be fine." Sam protested. "Lillian, tell him."
"You did break it twice in one year. Maybe you should be sure that it's healed before you go running around the country again." She made a face at him and tapped his cast with her foot. "Sacrifice one extra month to be safe and then you can run around and kick people in the heads again."
"I never kicked anyone in the head."
"You tried to kick me in the head." Dean muttered into his fresh bottle.
"Well, you have an ass where your head should be." Sam smiled quickly before he took another shot, courtesy of the waitress. "Anyway, Liz, you have to keep me company a few days at a time while I'm under lock and key."
"I don't know. I plan to be busy. I'm signing up for self-defense classes tomorrow and my art class is having a new instructor and I promised I'd stick around to get the new woman settled."
"You're paying for self-defense classes?" Dean scoffed.
"They aren't free."
Sam grinned and cleared his throat. "They are when your father was in the Marines."
"Exactly. I know everything my dad did. I could teach you twice the moves, twice as fast for… alternative compensation." Dean declared.
"Alternative compensation?" Sam snorted and had to see what was going to tumble out of his brother’s mouth.
"Meatloaf." He answered. "Mashed potatoes."
"Oh, I see. Home cooked food for self-defense." Liz sat up straight and nodded. Sam laughed to himself as he took his beer from his brother.
"Come on. Skills like that can't go to waste and here are two stomachs that don't ever get home cooked food."
"I'll think about it." Liz rolled her eyes and stood up. "Don’t get too drunk, guys."
TBC
(October 18, 2009)
"Mr. Cordova." The voice came from overhead. Dean picked up his head and blinked at the bright lights of the hospital. He hadn’t been sleeping but he had gotten tired of the pitying looks from the families of other patients. He must have been pretending to sleep a lot longer than he’d thought. "He's awake."
"Is he okay?" Dean rubbed his face hard. He needed to shave.
"There were some third degree burns but only 5 percent coverage. He does have 20 percent second degree burns though."
"What does that mean?"
"It means extensive time recuperating. Chance of infection. I wouldn't recommend moving him at any time, soon." The doctor tilted his head at the man. "I hear you're anxious to be out of here."
Dean was too tired to make up a convincing lie. He had a second degree burn that he'd received treatment for but that he'd refused pain meds for. He lifted his eyes to the well-meaning man. "We don’t like hospitals. Our father died in one."
"The cops aren't pressing charges."
"It's not about that." Dean had to stop himself from yelling. "How long does he need to stay in the hospital?"
"Two weeks and that's barring complications and infections."
"So… if he does get an infection, it could be longer."
"I'm afraid so."
"Can I go in and scare the germs into behaving?"
"Yeah, you can see him now but you have to put on a gown." He reached back and pulled a disposable gown from a rack. He hesitated when he turned back. "After you see your brother, we'd like to have a talk with you about all the breaks we found when we looked at his x-rays."
"He broke something else?"
"He broke a leg that has scarring from previous breaks and it's not the only one. After you talk to him. I want to talk to you."
Dean stood and readjusted his shirt. A childhood full of meetings with CPS or FPS or whatever whichever state was calling it at the time had been full of expressions like the one the doctor wore. They weren’t kids anymore but the look was the same. "The kid has a hero complex and he's too old to be pulling this shit. He's always hurting himself, saving other people. I'll talk to him."
Taking the gown, he slipped it on and followed the doctor to the sterile room where Sam was laid out. The burns looked bad but Sam still managed a joke at his brother's expense. "You look like shit run over twice and backed over…” Dean didn’t laugh. “It's a joke… cause I'm the one with the… burns and blisters. Ha. Ha."
"Yeah, yeah. Ha. Ha. Fireball." Dean sat so he could see his brother's face without turning his head and aggravating his own burns. "I'm sorry I couldn't get there sooner."
"No big. Furnace would have killed you, you wuss. I'm alive."
"They said two weeks, Sammy."
"Bullshit." Sam shook his head and let it drop onto his pillow. "Come on. It's not that bad."
"I'll negotiate but they have a point. What didn't you burn? Your nads? Your ass?" Dean tamped down the urge to beat something. "Hey… if you have powers of healing, now would be the time to let them loose, you know." Dean shut his eyes against the sight of blisters and fried skin. "You in pain?"
"Some."
"Okay. I'll talk to the doctor. I gotta find a place to sleep while I plan how to spring you."
"Get me out of here soon."
"I'll try."
--
Dean lay out on the bed and held his finger over the talk button. He debated with himself for ten minutes before pushing it. After several rings, he got a breathless answer. "Hello?"
"Lillian, it's Dean." He blew out a breath. "I have to ask you some questions. You're pretty smart, so I figure you'd know what I'm talking about."
"Is something wrong?" Liz dropped onto her new bed. It had taken her forever to get it just where she wanted it and then she had lost track of her phone.
"If someone had… 25 percent burn coverage on their body… would it be okay to move them?"
"What kind of burns? First degree, second degree, third degree?"
"5 percent third and 20 percent second."
"Where are the 5 percent located?"
"On an arm. Most of the other burns are on his chest, other arm and his thighs. Barely sunburned on the face. They say infection is a worry, though."
"Then I wouldn't move him. Is he okay, Dean? Is Sam okay?" Liz felt so tired.
"Yeah. He's talking okay. He's in pain, though." Dean had to clear his throat against the tears that had crept in. "He broke his leg again. I guess it hadn't healed fully."
"Because of his crappy diet." Liz joked humorlessly.
"Right."
"Are you okay?"
"Banged up. Some burns. I'm okay."
"You went in after him, didn't you."
"I had nothing better to do."
"Dean. Are you okay?" He didn't answer her. "Do you want me to come?" He didn't answer her. "What name did you admit him under? I want to send him some cheesy balloons."
"Cordova. We're in Mississippi. A town called…"
"Duryea. I talked to Sam before your hunt."
"I'm okay. Don't come down here." Dean breathed out harshly. "Don't come. I can take care of my brother. So… definitely stay then. Keep him in the hospital?"
"Yeah… is there a reason not to stay?"
"Fake stuff… like always."
"Then be careful." Liz frowned into the phone. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."
"Thanks."
--
Sam rested his head between drinks of water from the very kind and very beautiful nurse who had been assigned to his room. Dean watched for a minute. His brother was in high spirits for someone who could have died in that inferno. Though, with a nurse like that… Then the flowers and balloons caught his attention. "Who sent those?"
"They're from Lillian." Sam struggled not to cough on his water. His brother had scared him. "How'd she know where we were?"
The nurse scooted passed Dean on her way out. Dean shut the door and sat down at the foot of the bed. "I told her."
"Okay." Sam nodded. "Why? You're always harping on me for talking to her."
"Cause, Sammy. You talk to her and you take care of me. We're doing the reverse right now. She says it's not safe to move you right now. Even if I wanted to break you out. I shouldn't." Dean looked up at his little brother. "I've taken enough chances with you lately. Let's just… cool our heels here for a while."
"And do what?"
"I have a deck of cards." Dean pulled the new deck from his jacket pocket. "And I always wanted to read that book you were talking about."
"No, you don’t."
"No, but I've got a couple of weeks to try."
A month later…
(November 15, 2009)
Liz swept through the small crowds with beer and whiskey for the tables. She had given her nods to the guys when she saw them wander in but she had made it a point to be a bit busy.
Dean kept his head low as he pretended to scan the stack of obits for anything that would get them on the road sooner rather than later. Sammy had commandeered them a booth so he could keep his leg elevated. Sam was bored. He had a couple of weeks left to keep the cast on. The doctor had wanted him to leave it on a full two months because it was the second time he'd broken it. When Liz scooted passed, he grabbed her attention. "Lil, take your break with us. If I don't get some intelligent conversation soon, I'll shoot myself."
"You can't have intelligent conversation with your brother?"
"Would you think about what you just said?" Sam rolled his eyes.
"Better be glad your leg is in that thing or I'd kick it." Dean muttered. He was promptly smacked upside the head with a dishtowel.
"I'm busy now but I'll stop by later." Liz promised Sam.
"Well, I'm holing up at Bobby's. Trying to dry out the card trail." He gestured to his leg. "The burns and the leg ate up the credit limit and alerted the company."
"I'll make sure Bobby takes care of you."
--
Liz plopped down in Dean's empty seat. Sam was busy doodling in the margins of his newspaper. "So, you ready to kill him yet?"
"Yes and he's acting strange. He's quiet and brooding but not in the fun way. No practical jokes, no jokes about getting me laid, which… I'm doing just fine on." He sighed and sat back. "He's pretty insistent that we not trot around just now. He wants to get a whole new set of cards and IDs."
"Sounds like he's not going to risk going off half-cocked for a while." She slid a beer his way. She was having one, as well. She was done for the night.
"Maybe." He shrugged. "Thanks again for the balloons and flowers. We had fun pulling the petals off and popping them to scare the nurses."
"You guys are so bad."
"What about you?" Sam gestured around the bar. "Same old scene but you seem different."
"You know me. Avoiding the visions and keeping an eye out for the guy in tight jeans that I want to take me home." She laughed to herself. "But taking that step on the truckers is not a good idea. I don't want to go to Rutherford and hit up the clubs without a wingman to make sure I'm safe."
"Then comes the thought that if the wingman is watching after you, the wingman knows what you're doing."
"Exactly." She laughed again and ignored the screech of a chair as Dean pulled up to the table. She was glad he chose not to box her in on her side of the booth. He set three shots on the table. "What's this?"
"Shot of courage." He shrugged.
"You might need it." Sam nodded and slammed his down. "She's thinking about taking one of those tourists to bed."
"Right." Dean slammed his shot and chased with a pull off his beer.
"I just wish I could know that I could have a good time with a guy, get my ya-yas out and not worry about anything." She sighed and slid her finger around the rim of the shot. "You know? Be honest without getting in too deep."
Dean blew out a breath. "Be careful what you wish for. Any one of your circumstances is daunting but they're all converged to make a terrifying prospect for a potential lover."
"How's that?" Liz tossed back the shot and busied herself stacking their shot glasses and sliding the empties to the table's edge for the waitress on duty.
"Okay. You've only been with one man. That's like… You're practically a virgin. Your last lover was your soul mate or whatever. Gah!" Dean shuddered. "You're a widow who hasn't been with a man since he died. And… I hear that your husband was some kind of notorious bad boy in the sack."
"And that's all daunting to a prospect for any future lover?" She shook her head and took a long pull on her bottle.
"Hell, yes."
"Maybe I shouldn't advertise all that, then."
"So you're going to pick up a random guy in the bar so he doesn't know any of that about you?" He prodded.
"You're the expert on getting laid. Tell me my approach."
Dean stared at her and thought about the brief kiss they'd had after closing that one night. They had both pretended that it hadn't happened afterward. For the sake of their friendship. Though, the awkward silences and glances said that things weren’t going to be easy. "You're not going to pick up a guy in this bar. If you do, you'll regret it. You're not that kind of person."
"Then who am I going to learn to date?"
"You don't date, Lillian. You fall in love."
"He's right." Sam interjected. "Maybe you have an itch but just a scratch isn't good enough for you."
"You don't know how depressing that sounds." Liz finished off her beer and pushed it to the edge of the table with the others. Dean leaned back and motioned with his hand for another round. "So, sticking around, huh, guys? You'll drive yourselves crazy."
"Have to. Doc says we need to let the leg set fully." Dean shrugged.
"It'll be fine." Sam protested. "Lillian, tell him."
"You did break it twice in one year. Maybe you should be sure that it's healed before you go running around the country again." She made a face at him and tapped his cast with her foot. "Sacrifice one extra month to be safe and then you can run around and kick people in the heads again."
"I never kicked anyone in the head."
"You tried to kick me in the head." Dean muttered into his fresh bottle.
"Well, you have an ass where your head should be." Sam smiled quickly before he took another shot, courtesy of the waitress. "Anyway, Liz, you have to keep me company a few days at a time while I'm under lock and key."
"I don't know. I plan to be busy. I'm signing up for self-defense classes tomorrow and my art class is having a new instructor and I promised I'd stick around to get the new woman settled."
"You're paying for self-defense classes?" Dean scoffed.
"They aren't free."
Sam grinned and cleared his throat. "They are when your father was in the Marines."
"Exactly. I know everything my dad did. I could teach you twice the moves, twice as fast for… alternative compensation." Dean declared.
"Alternative compensation?" Sam snorted and had to see what was going to tumble out of his brother’s mouth.
"Meatloaf." He answered. "Mashed potatoes."
"Oh, I see. Home cooked food for self-defense." Liz sat up straight and nodded. Sam laughed to himself as he took his beer from his brother.
"Come on. Skills like that can't go to waste and here are two stomachs that don't ever get home cooked food."
"I'll think about it." Liz rolled her eyes and stood up. "Don’t get too drunk, guys."
TBC
Part 34 – Two days later…
(November 17, 2009)
"Just kick me already." Dean barked and rushed to catch her foot when her aim came close to his most sensitive parts. Then he stared at her shoe in his palm, lifting to examine the atrocity. "What are you wearing?"
"Shoes." Liz tried to take her foot back but she couldn't without ending up on the ground. She'd already spent enough time on the ground and dusting off for one afternoon.
"You want me to teach you self-defense maneuvers while you're teetering on these?" Dean scoffed and mentally measured the heel on her boots. Three inches, possibly another half inch.
"This is what I wear."
"To practice martial arts maneuvers?" He gave her a dubious look.
"I'm not going to get attacked wearing my sweats and tennis shoes, however convenient that might be. It'll probably be at work, after work, or while I’m out. Right?" She shifted her weight to the ball of her foot to stand more comfortably while her leg was still far too high for comfort. "This is what I need to learn to fight in."
"Fine." Dean tossed her leg away and watched her fall into the dirt. "Now, I know why you keep ending up down there."
"For a beginner?" She straightened and stood to face him again with just a touch of annoyance because he made her fall on purpose that time. "How am I doing?"
"Doing okay. Let's move on." He released a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. "Now, any big burly guy sets his sights on you and the second he gets you alone and vulnerable, he's gonna do this." Dean reached out and yanked her arm, making her stumble into him. Quickly, he slipped his arms under hers and clasped them behind her neck. Liz's feet fought for purchase but not even her heels made contact with the ground. "You see. A favorite and you don't know how to get out of it."
"You got me. I'm completely immobilized." Liz gasped as the position made it hard to breathe.
"No, you're not. You're just short and instead of trying to kick me, you're trying to get down. You're vulnerable if your feet aren't on the ground because you know your legs are strong and you can kick off or run away if you could just get down." He relaxed his hold just a bit. "Throw your weight forward and land on your feet. You gotta try to throw me over your head. Use my weight against me."
Liz struggled to bring her feet to the ground. When she finally did, she twisted her body sharply but inaccurately. She landed on top of Dean, who landed on his back.
"Ah." He winced. "See, there, you did it." He grunted as he shifted over a large rock. "How did you know to do that? Turn your body to shift my weight into gravity?"
"One of my ex-boyfriends was a wrestler in high school." Liz rolled off him and examined the area they had fallen into. "Are you okay?"
"Fine. Just give me a minute." He breathed out and let his head fall back to the ground. "Good job."
Liz stared at him through the drying grass and the sunlight. Even through the dust, she could see his face, really see his face. "You have freckles."
"And?" Dean frowned and turned his head to look at her.
"Well, I'd never noticed before." She fought the urge to blush, embarrassed to realize she had vocalized her thought.
"So…"
"They suit you… I was just surprised." She shook her head and propped herself up on her elbows.
"But you like surprises." He winked at her.
They were teetering on the brink of a serious discussion and she wasn't ready to have one of those. "I don't know about that."
"The last surprise I gave you?" It was a desperate attempt to get her to admit that she liked their little interlude but he had to try it.
"I… don't know. Are we admitting that the surprise actually happened?"
"Why not?"
"I kind of got the impression that it might ruin your reputation or something."
"Oh. Oh. OH… I see. So the defensive-dismissive act was all on account of my playing it cool." He nodded to himself. "I understand. I get how I’m sometimes too much to handle."
"Your ego is sometimes astounding." She scoffed at him.
"It's not ego. It's confidence."
"No. It's egotism. You're looking for a little stroke to reaffirm your sense of self." Liz shook her head at him.
"Aw, come on, Lil…"
"You know what… if we're going to have these conversations, just call me Liz."
"Okay, Liz." He stressed her name and reached beneath his body to throw away the rock that had been digging into his ribs. Silence stretched out for several long moments. "So this weird global warming thing…" When she laughed, he glanced her way. "I just remember it snowing a bit more is all."
"I'm from a desert landscape. Snow was pretty rare. I don’t miss it." Liz fiddled with a torn fingernail. "So, you and Sam are going to be around next week for Thanksgiving. When was the last time you had one of those?"
"Not much to be thankful for."
"Not much?" She scoffed at him. "You regularly face danger and escape with your lives by… a fraction of a hair width. How can you not be thankful that you're alive today?"
"Okay. So maybe I am… don't push it. I have no parents. No family other than Sammy… I'm glad to have him but he's all I got. I got stuck with a legacy that I'm not even sure I want."
Without even thinking, Liz reached out and touched his shoulder. He almost swatted away her hand. He didn't need her pity. When he looked at her face, he knew pity was the last thing she felt for him. She understood. "At least Sam is family. The traveling circus can be trying with people who aren't blood."
"That's sort of the hard part. If they aren't blood, you can dump their ass on the side of the road without a worry. When it's your baby brother, you're always gonna worry, even if he takes off all on his own."
"It's a hazard, I guess. Love someone so much they become family or love them because they are." She absently picked some grass off his shirt, then out of his hair. He caught her wrist. "What?"
Dean cupped the back of her head and brought her down to meet his mouth. She didn't fight but she didn't kiss him back immediately. The ends of her hair tickled his face but his main focus stayed on her lips especially the full bottom lip that dragged the length of his lips. On the tongue that teased his. On the hand that slid across his chest.
When he dared to slip his hand around her back and drag her body to his, she pulled away. After a moment's pause, she opened her eyes and stood up. "I have to… go… do something."
Dean lay there nodding to himself and trying to figure out the best way to stand up without a) hurting himself on that other rock lodged in his spine, b) leaving a piece of his pride in the dirt or c) rushing after her to make another attempt at getting a better reaction out of her and making an ass of himself in the process. He didn't really know why he kept setting himself up to be kicked in the gut this way.
Later that day…
Liz placed the plate on a tray and slid that over Sam's lap. "Free lunch."
"Awesome but isn't Dean supposed to receive the payment for lessons?"
"Dean didn't teach me anything today, except how to fall down when he hit me."
"He hit you?"
"Well, attacked, you know." Liz shrugged at him. "So I could practice hitting him."
"Oh… well, falling is important though. Taking a fall, I mean." He picked up his fork and took a thoughtful bite. "This is good, by the way. If you don't know how to fall, you could seriously injure yourself. Learning to throw your weight on a dime can save your life."
"Really?"
"Really."
"I guess you're right. I did survive a fall out a five story window." She caught his look. "I had a soft buffer at two stories, fell half a story onto a gazebo roof, then rolled the rest of the way onto a dead body. No broken bones."
"Damn lucky… luckier than that dead body."
"Had my share of luck with that particular dead body." She nodded to his look but didn't explain that the dead body had, in fact, been revived a few minutes later and she had, less than a year later, married said body. Idly, she wondered if that made her a necrophiliac… but then, so would he, but he had died before they had actually… if they had both…
"Lil?" Sam frowned at the faraway look in her eyes.
"It's nothing." She waved him off and shook her head to clear it of odd thoughts. Sam nodded and took a few more bites. "Thanks by the way… It's nice to cook for someone who appreciates it again."
"What about Stan?"
"Betty Lou gets those compliments these days."
"Ah… I see." Sam nodded to his plate and took a huge bite and swallowed before clearing his throat. "You know… some people could consider lurking in doorways a little pervy."
"Didn't want to interrupt." Dean lifted his beer at Liz when she turned.
"Don't worry. We weren't talking about you." Liz slid him a look. "Just don't do anything that'll make me tell on you and have to get Sam and his crutches on your ass."
"Oh." Dean scoffed. "Cause I'm scared of him?"
"If he hits too hard or adjusts your posture too much for comfort, tell me. I'll kick his ass." Sam waved his fork at his brother. "And string him up like a scarecrow on my crutches."
Two days later…
(November 19, 2009)
Liz opened the door and let Dean in so he could haul the heavier of her shopping bags into the kitchen. She immediately set about putting everything away. "Thanks so much. I forget sometimes I have to carry everything myself."
"I have two working arms and I am currently without a purpose." He hinted mildly that she had reduced the length of their little sessions in the field after what had happened two days earlier.
"If you wait about ten minutes, I'll make you a 'thank you' sandwich."
"Free food. Awesome."
"All food is free for you." She scoffed at him. "You actually earned this sandwich."
"Credit card fraud is not easy." He helped out with the putting away of groceries. "Not if it's done successfully."
"Ever think of doing honest work?"
"Yeah. It's expensive, though. More so than hunting and I would never have time to hunt between killing myself 60 hours a week and paying bills and all that."
Liz kicked off her shoes before she washed up to start the slicing and building. She moved around her little kitchenette to make Dean a Dagwood sandwich. She could feel his eyes on her as he ate his sandwich and she worked on making a smaller version for herself. She opened two bottles of beer and set one in front of him, taking the other for herself. "I think that covers the favor."
"Maybe I would do more manual labor if the perks were always this good." He watched her drink her beer. "We're starting to rub off on you. You're drinking at lunch."
"It's dinner, Dean… not everyone sleeps til the crack of noon."
"I do not sleep in… but I'm not really a morning person." He quickly amended. "Unless I'm hunting."
"Are you getting restless yet?" She asked, her eyes flicking to the door.
"Maybe… but Sam…"
"I'm glad you're putting off that urge. He really needs to get healthier before he puts his life on the line again." She finished her sandwich and took a long swallow off her bottle.
"You off tonight?"
"Yeah." She rose from the table to put her plate in the sink and finish putting away the sandwich fixings. "But, I'm not in the mood to eat any more dirt."
"You're doing really well." Dean forced the compliment out. "You could probably take on your average moronic attacker."
"Good."
"But your sly dogs might be a bit trickier."
"And definitely not up for demons?"
"Right."
"You ever actually taken a class?" She turned slightly so she could see his face.
"No." He shook his head. "What I'm teaching you is what Dad taught me and what we taught Sammy. Modified martial arts that Dad used in the Marines and learned after Mom died."
"So, this is the stuff that works and not just a bunch of fancy moves."
"Pretty much." Dean nodded as he got up and tossed their bottles in the garbage and handed his plate over for a quick rinsing. They stood just inches apart. Dean knew she was short but standing next to her without those heeled boots was very odd.
"What?" Liz whispered, very aware that she could step away at any time. She could tell him to get out. It was her house. She knew he would do it if she asked. "You're staring. What?"
Dean cupped her face in his hands to just look at her. Maybe it was just an excuse to touch her but he waited a second. She didn't break his very tentative hold and she didn't back away when he moved in. Didn't slap his hands when they dropped to her waist and pulled her close. Didn't push him away when he bent his head to hers. Tilted her face up and shut her eyes just as he stopped torturing them both.
This time, neither hesitated to deepen the kiss, to grasp for each other hungrily. Liz slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. Opened her mouth to him willingly. Pressed her body against his, tightly, without further urging from his hands sliding up and down her back.
Dean picked her up and placed her on the table. Their mouths ground together while their hands roamed. Fitting himself between her legs, he trailed his mouth down her neck. She gasped as she clung to him, holding his head to her body. A sudden vibration against her thigh sent a shriek right out of her mouth. Dean leapt away and tried to fish the offensive phone out of his pocket. Sam. "Yeah?" His eyes were on Liz as she caught her breath and wiped at her mouth. "Oh yeah? … okay… I'm fine…" He took a deep breath to clear her scent out of his nostrils. "I told you not to get out of bed."
Liz covered her mouth with her hand and watched Dean nod into his phone. He flicked his eyes to her and then made for the door. She sat on the table for a long time, aching and debating. She knew her resolve was melting away and she wasn't even sure if she wanted to fight it… except that she promised Marty she'd stay away from 'those boys' and she didn't know what she'd do if she ever compromised her confidence in Sam.
TBC
(November 17, 2009)
"Just kick me already." Dean barked and rushed to catch her foot when her aim came close to his most sensitive parts. Then he stared at her shoe in his palm, lifting to examine the atrocity. "What are you wearing?"
"Shoes." Liz tried to take her foot back but she couldn't without ending up on the ground. She'd already spent enough time on the ground and dusting off for one afternoon.
"You want me to teach you self-defense maneuvers while you're teetering on these?" Dean scoffed and mentally measured the heel on her boots. Three inches, possibly another half inch.
"This is what I wear."
"To practice martial arts maneuvers?" He gave her a dubious look.
"I'm not going to get attacked wearing my sweats and tennis shoes, however convenient that might be. It'll probably be at work, after work, or while I’m out. Right?" She shifted her weight to the ball of her foot to stand more comfortably while her leg was still far too high for comfort. "This is what I need to learn to fight in."
"Fine." Dean tossed her leg away and watched her fall into the dirt. "Now, I know why you keep ending up down there."
"For a beginner?" She straightened and stood to face him again with just a touch of annoyance because he made her fall on purpose that time. "How am I doing?"
"Doing okay. Let's move on." He released a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. "Now, any big burly guy sets his sights on you and the second he gets you alone and vulnerable, he's gonna do this." Dean reached out and yanked her arm, making her stumble into him. Quickly, he slipped his arms under hers and clasped them behind her neck. Liz's feet fought for purchase but not even her heels made contact with the ground. "You see. A favorite and you don't know how to get out of it."
"You got me. I'm completely immobilized." Liz gasped as the position made it hard to breathe.
"No, you're not. You're just short and instead of trying to kick me, you're trying to get down. You're vulnerable if your feet aren't on the ground because you know your legs are strong and you can kick off or run away if you could just get down." He relaxed his hold just a bit. "Throw your weight forward and land on your feet. You gotta try to throw me over your head. Use my weight against me."
Liz struggled to bring her feet to the ground. When she finally did, she twisted her body sharply but inaccurately. She landed on top of Dean, who landed on his back.
"Ah." He winced. "See, there, you did it." He grunted as he shifted over a large rock. "How did you know to do that? Turn your body to shift my weight into gravity?"
"One of my ex-boyfriends was a wrestler in high school." Liz rolled off him and examined the area they had fallen into. "Are you okay?"
"Fine. Just give me a minute." He breathed out and let his head fall back to the ground. "Good job."
Liz stared at him through the drying grass and the sunlight. Even through the dust, she could see his face, really see his face. "You have freckles."
"And?" Dean frowned and turned his head to look at her.
"Well, I'd never noticed before." She fought the urge to blush, embarrassed to realize she had vocalized her thought.
"So…"
"They suit you… I was just surprised." She shook her head and propped herself up on her elbows.
"But you like surprises." He winked at her.
They were teetering on the brink of a serious discussion and she wasn't ready to have one of those. "I don't know about that."
"The last surprise I gave you?" It was a desperate attempt to get her to admit that she liked their little interlude but he had to try it.
"I… don't know. Are we admitting that the surprise actually happened?"
"Why not?"
"I kind of got the impression that it might ruin your reputation or something."
"Oh. Oh. OH… I see. So the defensive-dismissive act was all on account of my playing it cool." He nodded to himself. "I understand. I get how I’m sometimes too much to handle."
"Your ego is sometimes astounding." She scoffed at him.
"It's not ego. It's confidence."
"No. It's egotism. You're looking for a little stroke to reaffirm your sense of self." Liz shook her head at him.
"Aw, come on, Lil…"
"You know what… if we're going to have these conversations, just call me Liz."
"Okay, Liz." He stressed her name and reached beneath his body to throw away the rock that had been digging into his ribs. Silence stretched out for several long moments. "So this weird global warming thing…" When she laughed, he glanced her way. "I just remember it snowing a bit more is all."
"I'm from a desert landscape. Snow was pretty rare. I don’t miss it." Liz fiddled with a torn fingernail. "So, you and Sam are going to be around next week for Thanksgiving. When was the last time you had one of those?"
"Not much to be thankful for."
"Not much?" She scoffed at him. "You regularly face danger and escape with your lives by… a fraction of a hair width. How can you not be thankful that you're alive today?"
"Okay. So maybe I am… don't push it. I have no parents. No family other than Sammy… I'm glad to have him but he's all I got. I got stuck with a legacy that I'm not even sure I want."
Without even thinking, Liz reached out and touched his shoulder. He almost swatted away her hand. He didn't need her pity. When he looked at her face, he knew pity was the last thing she felt for him. She understood. "At least Sam is family. The traveling circus can be trying with people who aren't blood."
"That's sort of the hard part. If they aren't blood, you can dump their ass on the side of the road without a worry. When it's your baby brother, you're always gonna worry, even if he takes off all on his own."
"It's a hazard, I guess. Love someone so much they become family or love them because they are." She absently picked some grass off his shirt, then out of his hair. He caught her wrist. "What?"
Dean cupped the back of her head and brought her down to meet his mouth. She didn't fight but she didn't kiss him back immediately. The ends of her hair tickled his face but his main focus stayed on her lips especially the full bottom lip that dragged the length of his lips. On the tongue that teased his. On the hand that slid across his chest.
When he dared to slip his hand around her back and drag her body to his, she pulled away. After a moment's pause, she opened her eyes and stood up. "I have to… go… do something."
Dean lay there nodding to himself and trying to figure out the best way to stand up without a) hurting himself on that other rock lodged in his spine, b) leaving a piece of his pride in the dirt or c) rushing after her to make another attempt at getting a better reaction out of her and making an ass of himself in the process. He didn't really know why he kept setting himself up to be kicked in the gut this way.
Later that day…
Liz placed the plate on a tray and slid that over Sam's lap. "Free lunch."
"Awesome but isn't Dean supposed to receive the payment for lessons?"
"Dean didn't teach me anything today, except how to fall down when he hit me."
"He hit you?"
"Well, attacked, you know." Liz shrugged at him. "So I could practice hitting him."
"Oh… well, falling is important though. Taking a fall, I mean." He picked up his fork and took a thoughtful bite. "This is good, by the way. If you don't know how to fall, you could seriously injure yourself. Learning to throw your weight on a dime can save your life."
"Really?"
"Really."
"I guess you're right. I did survive a fall out a five story window." She caught his look. "I had a soft buffer at two stories, fell half a story onto a gazebo roof, then rolled the rest of the way onto a dead body. No broken bones."
"Damn lucky… luckier than that dead body."
"Had my share of luck with that particular dead body." She nodded to his look but didn't explain that the dead body had, in fact, been revived a few minutes later and she had, less than a year later, married said body. Idly, she wondered if that made her a necrophiliac… but then, so would he, but he had died before they had actually… if they had both…
"Lil?" Sam frowned at the faraway look in her eyes.
"It's nothing." She waved him off and shook her head to clear it of odd thoughts. Sam nodded and took a few more bites. "Thanks by the way… It's nice to cook for someone who appreciates it again."
"What about Stan?"
"Betty Lou gets those compliments these days."
"Ah… I see." Sam nodded to his plate and took a huge bite and swallowed before clearing his throat. "You know… some people could consider lurking in doorways a little pervy."
"Didn't want to interrupt." Dean lifted his beer at Liz when she turned.
"Don't worry. We weren't talking about you." Liz slid him a look. "Just don't do anything that'll make me tell on you and have to get Sam and his crutches on your ass."
"Oh." Dean scoffed. "Cause I'm scared of him?"
"If he hits too hard or adjusts your posture too much for comfort, tell me. I'll kick his ass." Sam waved his fork at his brother. "And string him up like a scarecrow on my crutches."
Two days later…
(November 19, 2009)
Liz opened the door and let Dean in so he could haul the heavier of her shopping bags into the kitchen. She immediately set about putting everything away. "Thanks so much. I forget sometimes I have to carry everything myself."
"I have two working arms and I am currently without a purpose." He hinted mildly that she had reduced the length of their little sessions in the field after what had happened two days earlier.
"If you wait about ten minutes, I'll make you a 'thank you' sandwich."
"Free food. Awesome."
"All food is free for you." She scoffed at him. "You actually earned this sandwich."
"Credit card fraud is not easy." He helped out with the putting away of groceries. "Not if it's done successfully."
"Ever think of doing honest work?"
"Yeah. It's expensive, though. More so than hunting and I would never have time to hunt between killing myself 60 hours a week and paying bills and all that."
Liz kicked off her shoes before she washed up to start the slicing and building. She moved around her little kitchenette to make Dean a Dagwood sandwich. She could feel his eyes on her as he ate his sandwich and she worked on making a smaller version for herself. She opened two bottles of beer and set one in front of him, taking the other for herself. "I think that covers the favor."
"Maybe I would do more manual labor if the perks were always this good." He watched her drink her beer. "We're starting to rub off on you. You're drinking at lunch."
"It's dinner, Dean… not everyone sleeps til the crack of noon."
"I do not sleep in… but I'm not really a morning person." He quickly amended. "Unless I'm hunting."
"Are you getting restless yet?" She asked, her eyes flicking to the door.
"Maybe… but Sam…"
"I'm glad you're putting off that urge. He really needs to get healthier before he puts his life on the line again." She finished her sandwich and took a long swallow off her bottle.
"You off tonight?"
"Yeah." She rose from the table to put her plate in the sink and finish putting away the sandwich fixings. "But, I'm not in the mood to eat any more dirt."
"You're doing really well." Dean forced the compliment out. "You could probably take on your average moronic attacker."
"Good."
"But your sly dogs might be a bit trickier."
"And definitely not up for demons?"
"Right."
"You ever actually taken a class?" She turned slightly so she could see his face.
"No." He shook his head. "What I'm teaching you is what Dad taught me and what we taught Sammy. Modified martial arts that Dad used in the Marines and learned after Mom died."
"So, this is the stuff that works and not just a bunch of fancy moves."
"Pretty much." Dean nodded as he got up and tossed their bottles in the garbage and handed his plate over for a quick rinsing. They stood just inches apart. Dean knew she was short but standing next to her without those heeled boots was very odd.
"What?" Liz whispered, very aware that she could step away at any time. She could tell him to get out. It was her house. She knew he would do it if she asked. "You're staring. What?"
Dean cupped her face in his hands to just look at her. Maybe it was just an excuse to touch her but he waited a second. She didn't break his very tentative hold and she didn't back away when he moved in. Didn't slap his hands when they dropped to her waist and pulled her close. Didn't push him away when he bent his head to hers. Tilted her face up and shut her eyes just as he stopped torturing them both.
This time, neither hesitated to deepen the kiss, to grasp for each other hungrily. Liz slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. Opened her mouth to him willingly. Pressed her body against his, tightly, without further urging from his hands sliding up and down her back.
Dean picked her up and placed her on the table. Their mouths ground together while their hands roamed. Fitting himself between her legs, he trailed his mouth down her neck. She gasped as she clung to him, holding his head to her body. A sudden vibration against her thigh sent a shriek right out of her mouth. Dean leapt away and tried to fish the offensive phone out of his pocket. Sam. "Yeah?" His eyes were on Liz as she caught her breath and wiped at her mouth. "Oh yeah? … okay… I'm fine…" He took a deep breath to clear her scent out of his nostrils. "I told you not to get out of bed."
Liz covered her mouth with her hand and watched Dean nod into his phone. He flicked his eyes to her and then made for the door. She sat on the table for a long time, aching and debating. She knew her resolve was melting away and she wasn't even sure if she wanted to fight it… except that she promised Marty she'd stay away from 'those boys' and she didn't know what she'd do if she ever compromised her confidence in Sam.
TBC
Part 35 – Five days later…
(November 24, 2009)
Liz calmly instructed Marty on how to raise his arms and lay them on the bar to steady himself while he took a seat. The truck was nearly done being unloaded but Marty had pulled or pinched or damaged something while pulling the old crates forward to put the new crates in the back. Carefully, Liz examined his back. "Where does it hurt?"
"Over my tailbone." Marty grunted when her fingers touched the screaming vertebrae. "Right there."
"Anyone ever tell you to lift with your legs and not with your back?" She chided and glanced around. "Dean!"
"Yeah?" He looked up from his newspaper.
"Finish up in the back?"
"Pardon?" Dean snorted.
"Marty's hurt. I gotta get the doctor over here from Baxter. Come on." Liz pleaded while absently rubbing her boss's back. "The new people aren't quite intelligent enough to be trusted to do it right."
"And you think I can do it?"
"Well, you're not stupid, Dean. You can follow a simple instruction while I get on the phone."
Dean thought about saying no but Marty was one of the few who still helped Winchesters with no questions asked. "Yeah. I'll do it."
"Thanks, Dean." Liz poured a cold glass of water for Marty and then poured him a shot of the good whiskey. "I'm going to run up and call Dr. Meyer."
"You remember my system, Dean." Marty grunted out as he attempted to slam his shot without moving his back.
"How could I forget." Dean trudged into the back and looked around at the mess the delivery guy had made. As a teenager, his father had made him help out Marty on a stop. His punishment for getting drunk underage while in the vicinity of Marty's bar. He'd never forget all the instructions they had given him while they laughed it up at the bar and Sammy had his nose stuck in a book.
--
Liz almost slapped herself a million times to keep from staring at Dean's back when he lifted crate after crate into their correct positions. She'd had to remember that Marty was in pain. Though the way Dr. Meyer took care of the patient… he wasn't feeling it quite so much anymore. Idly, she wondered how long they had flirted long distance.
Draping his shirt on the back of the stool, Dean dropped his sweaty, tired, body onto it. His undershirt was soaked with sweat and he was pretty sure he'd be attracting flies soon enough. Liz set a bottle of beer and a huge sandwich in front of him. He stared at it for the longest time before clasping his hands together and leaning over it. "What is this?"
She shrugged at him, smile tugging at her lips. "A sandwich."
"Not the food. This." He lifted a hand to circle the beer, sandwich and the 'something' between them.
"I don't know." Liz shook her head.
He was tempted to let it go at that but he'd had a couple of sleepless nights thinking about their last interlude. He couldn't bring it up because she had run off on him in the field and he had run off on her in the cottage. He took a swig of beer for courage. "I come in here. We flirt. You get me drunk. You bring me food. We have a good time and then we have these intensely awkward goodnights. Are we friends?"
"I suppose so."
"Are we just friends?" Had he really just asked the question? He should just go out and have a sex-change.
"I hesitate to answer that question on the basis that I hate to be a liar." She lightly brushed her fingers against his when she slid a coaster under his bottle. "What if I say no and we are just friends… or if I say yes and we… become more."
"Well, that is a dilemma." It really was. There were all sorts of reasons to just abandon the talk and go on pretending that there wasn't any sort of attraction going on. Just pretend that none of those kisses had ever taken place and that he didn't desperately want to continue the self-defense lessons just so he'd have an excuse to touch her.
"I don't know how to do this." Her big brown eyes lifted to meet his green eyes. She fiddled with the edge of the coaster, almost ignoring the fact that doing so made her knuckles brush his fingertips loosely draped around his bottle. "My formative dating years were not spent dating."
"Mine were." He smirked at her; flexed his fingers just a bit to brush against her hand.
She gave him a glare and a crooked smile. "Screwing is not dating."
"Is that what we're going for?" Quickly, he backtracked. There was no use defending that question and the way it sounded. "Clearly, we are not casual as you're friends with my brother and half the demon hunting community would hunt me down if I broke your heart."
"Maybe we just shouldn't do anything… that, you know… we might regret." Liz breathed out and stilled her hands. "It might be too messy to even really contemplate actually doing."
"You want to live with a bunch of what ifs?" He already did. He hated that part of his mind and he figured she did, too.
Dr. Meyer shut the door to the stairwell behind her. "He'll be fine. He didn't herniate it completely. He does need to take it easy for a while though. He is such a stubborn man. He thinks he's working tomorrow."
"He won't. I promise. And I'll make sure he gets enough turkey the day after to keep him knocked out until next week." Liz glanced up at the ceiling, where he was sure that Marty was getting ready to work but it was just a show. He had hurt himself pretty badly. He was just waiting for Dr. Meyer to leave.
"That's a good girl. I'll stop in and check on him later but I have to get back to my clinic tonight."
"Maybe you should stop in at my place first… and bring Marty his Thanksgiving dinner for me. I could make you a plate too… so he doesn't have to eat alone up there." Liz knew she wasn't being subtle but Dr. Meyer didn't seem to be offended.
"I'll think about it." She nodded and headed for the door with her head held high and a secretive smile.
Liz stood awkwardly for a moment before slipping her hand off the bar. "I need to start bussing tables and call in one of the rug rats."
She was gone to use the phone before Dean could stop her. He picked at his sandwich but he wasn't really hungry and drinking held no appeal to him. It hadn't in a long time… but it gave him an excuse to be in the bar where he could stare at her.
Two days later… Thanksgiving Day
(November 26, 2009)
Liz sat on the bar so she could see the tables and the oven at the same time. She was also avoiding going home where she'd eventually have to see someone from Bobby's. By using the bar kitchen to prepare a Thanksgiving dinner for all those she cared about AND the barroom Thanksgiving Transients, she could avoid them altogether and just send someone over with plates when the turkey was done. The downside to that was she couldn't do it alone and she had never really spent any time with Betty Lou without Kyle before.
"I don't know why you dumped him but thank you." Betty Lou popped up onto the bar with Liz. "He's just… so great."
"Well, I had met my future husband so… dumping Stan felt like the right thing to do."
"It's okay. I know his real name is Kyle… Valen… something."
"Valenti. But… we don't say our real names in public. That's the reason we use the pseudonyms."
"Neat. Pseudonyms… sounds like pseudo-names."
"That's… kind of what it means." Liz nodded and thought about checking the turkey again but she had just done that. "Nym means name. Pseudo means false. Based in Latin. False name, pseudonym."
"Wow. You are smart. Stan always tells me how smart you are. You've got to be. Marty trusts you in his bar without him. I've lived in this town all my life and Marty won't even let me in here unless I'm with Stan."
"He's just looking out for you. Pretty rough crowd wanders in here." Liz shrugged and glanced up at the stairs. "I started working here with my husband so I was pretty safe. I carved out my own reputation because I'm a pool shark and a card sharp."
"So, you hustle? That's what they call it, right?"
Nodding haltingly, Liz considered the appeal of the blonde for Kyle. She loved her best friend to death but currently she despised his taste in women. "Only a handful of customers."
"Wow… How did you learn to do that?"
Conversation was bad. Conversation opened the door to understanding and so Liz forged ahead. "Not intentionally. I had a babysitter with two part-time jobs. She used to let me hang out and play miniature-golf and pool for free if it wasn't too busy. The cards, I learned from my father during his poker night."
"Holy cow… you've lived an exciting life."
"Actually, I learned all that before my life became exciting."
"And when did that happen?" That's when Liz realized that Betty Lou wasn't intentionally annoying her. She wasn't vapid. She was curious about the man who was currently sharing quarters in her home. She was getting to know her boyfriend's best friend, just the way Liz was getting to know her.
"When I really saw my husband for the first time and realized how much more there was to him. That's when my life became really interesting."
"You must miss him."
"I do." Liz nodded and realized she didn't feel like crying. Not a bit. She missed Max. She wanted nothing more than to have him back but she had accepted the loss at some point. A round of timers began going off, so the ladies raced into the kitchen to pull various sides and pies from the ovens. When Dr. Meyer showed up, she helped them serve up a couple of rows of plates and carved the bird when it came out of the oven. Everyone took two plates out to the bar, Liz made a second trip. By then, the stragglers of the group (i.e. the guys) had wandered in for the meal when they realized Liz's cottage was vacant of both her and of good-smelling food. Liz took Betty Lou and Kyle's hand and they all bowed their heads. "Let us give thanks for everyday on this Earth. For the friends and family that we celebrate with and those who are far away." Liz had to swallow a lump when Kyle squeezed her hand. "Even though we are not all eating in one room, we will be sharing life and laughter."
They broke apart and took seats. Dr. Meyer grabbed two plates and pointed up the stairs. Bobby, Kyle and Betty Lou sat at the bar to eat their dinner while the men discussed some business. Liz helped Sam hobble over to a booth and set his plate in front of him. He stared at it long and hard. "Thanks. I haven't had one of these since college."
"I haven't had one ever…" Dean nodded to his plate. "Unless the box form counts."
"It doesn't." Sam shook his head. As he dug into his plate, he stared at his brother. "Mom didn't do Thanksgiving?"
"The last one I had with her, I was three. I don't really remember." Dean tentatively tasted a little of everything on the plate.
"I didn't poison it." Liz scoffed at him and helped herself to her own plate.
"Forgive my brother. He's never had a home cooked Thanksgiving and he's confused." He took a huge bite of stuffing. "Good job. I salute the cook."
"Thank you. I've been working hard for two days." Liz relaxed and began to eat, though Dean's eyes on her did nothing to relax her further.
"Are you wearing a dress?" Dean managed to shift his eyes to her face and cleared his throat.
"Yes. I wear a dress to Thanksgiving. Part of my upbringing." He was so annoying!
"And now he's picturing you without it." Sam kicked his brother under the table.
"Ow." Dean jerked away, only to rap his knee on underside of the table. "Shit."
Liz avoided looking directly at him and tried to eat and chat with Sam. Her mind was not going to wander back to times in the last week where there were lips and hands in places that felt so good. She had to keep her mind off Dean and get through the day without finding herself alone with him. "Dr. Meyer is upstairs with Marty, when she comes down, she could look at your leg."
"Yes." Sam groaned a satisfied noise. "Maybe she'll cut it off me. I'm getting seconds."
"I can get them." She protested and started to rise.
"No. I’m getting them." Sam waved her off and hobbled away.
"Can I look at your leg?" Dean set his fork down with a smirk.
"You can look at my fist." She smiled sweetly at him.
"I don't warrant eye contact?"
"I don't know.""Well, let me rephrase my earlier comments since my meaning was lost in transmission." Dean cleared this throat. "You look very nice in a dress. You cook very well."
"Thank you, Dean." That felt nice. To be complimented by someone other than her boss, landlord or best friend. "You clean up very nice, too."
"I've been thinking about that last conversation we had."
He had to go there and ruin all hopes of an uncomplicated day. "Oh?"
"I can't expect any sort of anything from you until I show you something."
Grasping for anything that would alleviate the tension in her body, she opted for humor. "Is this gonna get dirty?"
"Funny gal." Dean shook his head but took a breath to say what he needed to say. "I've never had a tether before."
It didn't take her long to figure out what he was trying to say. Dean was a complicated guy but his metaphors were fairly simple. She straightened in her seat. "Is that what I am? A tether?"
"I keep coming back here to see you." He met her eyes. "I make stupid excuses and Bobby charges an arm and a leg for parts… so in the end… It's because of you."
"You're making your brother keep his cast on an extra month because you wanted to stick him in Bobby's extra room so you could see me?"
"When you put it that way…" A smirk crossed his face as he glanced back where he could see Sam wobbling around on his encased leg. "Well, that's just a bonus and kind of funny."
She watched his face carefully. The wavering smile, the flicker of his eyes. "You're really worried about Sam."
"Who's worried about me?" Sam dropped back into his seat with a healthy pile of food.
"Me." Liz blurted out. "Pace yourself."
"Can't. Stan and Bobby are a plate ahead of me, already." Sam picked up his fork, ready to put a dent in his second heaping plate.
"Help yourself, Dean." Liz jerked her head to the side. "I'm gonna go pack up some stuff for Dr. Meyer to take with her." She dragged herself away from the table to where Kyle was beating out a rhythm on the bar. Bobby had already taken himself and some dessert home. Betty Lou was listening with rapt attention as Kyle rambled on about something he'd heard down at the garage. "What are you talking about?"
"Some guys and some gals are heading out into the fields for a booze-out tonight. Wanna come?"
"I'll think about it." That brought back all sorts of noxious memories from high school.
"You'll want to change before you go out there." Betty Lou warned. She flicked her eyes at her boyfriend then back to Liz. "And make sure you've got some kind of escort cause it can get rowdy and people get separated."
"She can stick with us." Kyle promised.
"I just said I'll think about it. I don't know if I'll go."
Kyle cleared his throat before imparting a warning he wanted her to take seriously. "Uncomplicated things don't complicate themselves if they stay at home when there's a party."
Later that night…
Dean looked around. "I don’t see a booze-out. You begged me to escort you out here and then you made Sam make me and now we're in the middle of nowhere with no booze. It's highly annoying."
"You're right. We must have made a wrong turn." Liz stared out around them and shivered. The night had suddenly gone chilly.
"Aren't these things usually marked with a burning bush or something?"
"A bonfire, I guess. I haven't been to one since my early high school days." She frowned. "Which, actually, I used to go to with Stan and I was usually left alone, cold, and hanging with some guy just because he was sober and I could trust him."
"You saying you trust me?"
"About as far as I can throw you but Betty Lou was giving me the impression she'd be dragging Kyle off before it was all over. I don't know all those other people well enough to drink with them but I wanted to have some fun."
"So you hauled my ass out because…"
"Because you're imposing as a figure and I can always say Marty hired you as my bodyguard. Most everyone is afraid of Marty."
"But you know what happens when I drink." He teased.
"Which is why I plan to knock the beer out of your hand fairly often."
"Not to mention smacking me upside the head regularly. You're lucky I don't have a chronic concussion." He was starting to get really, really ticked off at her brushing off his comments. "What if I wanted to get laid at this thing? I couldn't with you hanging off me all night."
"Like I would ever hang all over you." Just as the last word escaped her mouth, her heel caught in a divot and she would have plunged to the ground had Dean not caught her and hauled her back up. Liz clung to him for dear life until she got her feet under her again. "Thanks."
"Okay. Look. We've hiked like… a mile… there's no party. Somebody lied to you."
"Betty Lou wouldn't lie."
"She wouldn't?"
"She's too stupid to lie."
"Do we not like Betty Lou?" Dean laughed and let her get her bearings so they could turn around.
"I like her fine. I'm glad I'm not the one who's sleeping with her. I just expected him to fall for someone brighter."
"Because you're brilliant and you're one of his exes. What are his other exes like?"
"Well… dumber than Betty Lou. I guess she's an improvement over Vicki." She shrugged, then shuddered at the memory of seeing him groping the half-naked blonde in the back of a truck. Some things were just better left to the imagination or not thought about at all. "It's his life and Kyle's mantra is simplicity in all things. No lying. No cheating. Just truth as far as it doesn't sting. Golden rule."
"The Golden rule? As in the one they teach kids in Sunday school."
"That's the one." She laughed. "When we were still in high school, he had… a really traumatic introduction to our insane life. He went to football camp all weirded out. He came home a Buddhist beginner."
"Buddhism. Wow. Fat, bald man. Jolly. Not as cool as Santa though."
"Yeah." She sobered a bit as she recalled Sam's words on Winchester Christmases past. Lightning in the distance lit up the sky like daylight. "I think we turned the wrong way."
"I think you're right." Dean frowned into the darkness as he tried to make out the buildings to ascertain the right way to go. Thunder slammed into them with the sudden chill. "Oh, shit."
Then the skies opened up, drenching them both with a male rain. Dean grabbed her arm and they both ran for the nearest shelter while the rain landed in hard pellets on their skin. How they managed to avoid all the pits and puddles and the dangers of Liz's heels, Dean never knew but the relatively dry shelter would have to do until the rain let up.
Liz brushed her rain-soaked hair out of her face. Dean shook his head free of excess rain like a dog, earning a small laugh from his companion. The sudden torrent had caught them both by surprise and broke up any serious mood that had been descending. Standing in the cool lean-to, she realized she'd been having fun. Fun with Dean Winchester. There was no real reason for standing so close to him but she couldn't make herself take a step backward. She remembered that first kiss in the bar. A subsequent kiss in the weeds… and making out in her kitchen that one time.
Dean shrugged out of his soaked jacket, then immediately felt her body against his. A first time for her to make the first move. Dipping his head, he took her mouth in a dizzying kiss. There was none of the urgency that had fueled earlier kisses. This was pure hunger and passion. Clothes were stripped and tossed to the ground as blankets. His lean, taut body lay flush with her soft curves in the pile of wet clothes. Chill forgotten, they let the moment turn into a fiery culmination that weeks and months of flirting and avoiding had not accomplished.
TBC
(November 24, 2009)
Liz calmly instructed Marty on how to raise his arms and lay them on the bar to steady himself while he took a seat. The truck was nearly done being unloaded but Marty had pulled or pinched or damaged something while pulling the old crates forward to put the new crates in the back. Carefully, Liz examined his back. "Where does it hurt?"
"Over my tailbone." Marty grunted when her fingers touched the screaming vertebrae. "Right there."
"Anyone ever tell you to lift with your legs and not with your back?" She chided and glanced around. "Dean!"
"Yeah?" He looked up from his newspaper.
"Finish up in the back?"
"Pardon?" Dean snorted.
"Marty's hurt. I gotta get the doctor over here from Baxter. Come on." Liz pleaded while absently rubbing her boss's back. "The new people aren't quite intelligent enough to be trusted to do it right."
"And you think I can do it?"
"Well, you're not stupid, Dean. You can follow a simple instruction while I get on the phone."
Dean thought about saying no but Marty was one of the few who still helped Winchesters with no questions asked. "Yeah. I'll do it."
"Thanks, Dean." Liz poured a cold glass of water for Marty and then poured him a shot of the good whiskey. "I'm going to run up and call Dr. Meyer."
"You remember my system, Dean." Marty grunted out as he attempted to slam his shot without moving his back.
"How could I forget." Dean trudged into the back and looked around at the mess the delivery guy had made. As a teenager, his father had made him help out Marty on a stop. His punishment for getting drunk underage while in the vicinity of Marty's bar. He'd never forget all the instructions they had given him while they laughed it up at the bar and Sammy had his nose stuck in a book.
--
Liz almost slapped herself a million times to keep from staring at Dean's back when he lifted crate after crate into their correct positions. She'd had to remember that Marty was in pain. Though the way Dr. Meyer took care of the patient… he wasn't feeling it quite so much anymore. Idly, she wondered how long they had flirted long distance.
Draping his shirt on the back of the stool, Dean dropped his sweaty, tired, body onto it. His undershirt was soaked with sweat and he was pretty sure he'd be attracting flies soon enough. Liz set a bottle of beer and a huge sandwich in front of him. He stared at it for the longest time before clasping his hands together and leaning over it. "What is this?"
She shrugged at him, smile tugging at her lips. "A sandwich."
"Not the food. This." He lifted a hand to circle the beer, sandwich and the 'something' between them.
"I don't know." Liz shook her head.
He was tempted to let it go at that but he'd had a couple of sleepless nights thinking about their last interlude. He couldn't bring it up because she had run off on him in the field and he had run off on her in the cottage. He took a swig of beer for courage. "I come in here. We flirt. You get me drunk. You bring me food. We have a good time and then we have these intensely awkward goodnights. Are we friends?"
"I suppose so."
"Are we just friends?" Had he really just asked the question? He should just go out and have a sex-change.
"I hesitate to answer that question on the basis that I hate to be a liar." She lightly brushed her fingers against his when she slid a coaster under his bottle. "What if I say no and we are just friends… or if I say yes and we… become more."
"Well, that is a dilemma." It really was. There were all sorts of reasons to just abandon the talk and go on pretending that there wasn't any sort of attraction going on. Just pretend that none of those kisses had ever taken place and that he didn't desperately want to continue the self-defense lessons just so he'd have an excuse to touch her.
"I don't know how to do this." Her big brown eyes lifted to meet his green eyes. She fiddled with the edge of the coaster, almost ignoring the fact that doing so made her knuckles brush his fingertips loosely draped around his bottle. "My formative dating years were not spent dating."
"Mine were." He smirked at her; flexed his fingers just a bit to brush against her hand.
She gave him a glare and a crooked smile. "Screwing is not dating."
"Is that what we're going for?" Quickly, he backtracked. There was no use defending that question and the way it sounded. "Clearly, we are not casual as you're friends with my brother and half the demon hunting community would hunt me down if I broke your heart."
"Maybe we just shouldn't do anything… that, you know… we might regret." Liz breathed out and stilled her hands. "It might be too messy to even really contemplate actually doing."
"You want to live with a bunch of what ifs?" He already did. He hated that part of his mind and he figured she did, too.
Dr. Meyer shut the door to the stairwell behind her. "He'll be fine. He didn't herniate it completely. He does need to take it easy for a while though. He is such a stubborn man. He thinks he's working tomorrow."
"He won't. I promise. And I'll make sure he gets enough turkey the day after to keep him knocked out until next week." Liz glanced up at the ceiling, where he was sure that Marty was getting ready to work but it was just a show. He had hurt himself pretty badly. He was just waiting for Dr. Meyer to leave.
"That's a good girl. I'll stop in and check on him later but I have to get back to my clinic tonight."
"Maybe you should stop in at my place first… and bring Marty his Thanksgiving dinner for me. I could make you a plate too… so he doesn't have to eat alone up there." Liz knew she wasn't being subtle but Dr. Meyer didn't seem to be offended.
"I'll think about it." She nodded and headed for the door with her head held high and a secretive smile.
Liz stood awkwardly for a moment before slipping her hand off the bar. "I need to start bussing tables and call in one of the rug rats."
She was gone to use the phone before Dean could stop her. He picked at his sandwich but he wasn't really hungry and drinking held no appeal to him. It hadn't in a long time… but it gave him an excuse to be in the bar where he could stare at her.
Two days later… Thanksgiving Day
(November 26, 2009)
Liz sat on the bar so she could see the tables and the oven at the same time. She was also avoiding going home where she'd eventually have to see someone from Bobby's. By using the bar kitchen to prepare a Thanksgiving dinner for all those she cared about AND the barroom Thanksgiving Transients, she could avoid them altogether and just send someone over with plates when the turkey was done. The downside to that was she couldn't do it alone and she had never really spent any time with Betty Lou without Kyle before.
"I don't know why you dumped him but thank you." Betty Lou popped up onto the bar with Liz. "He's just… so great."
"Well, I had met my future husband so… dumping Stan felt like the right thing to do."
"It's okay. I know his real name is Kyle… Valen… something."
"Valenti. But… we don't say our real names in public. That's the reason we use the pseudonyms."
"Neat. Pseudonyms… sounds like pseudo-names."
"That's… kind of what it means." Liz nodded and thought about checking the turkey again but she had just done that. "Nym means name. Pseudo means false. Based in Latin. False name, pseudonym."
"Wow. You are smart. Stan always tells me how smart you are. You've got to be. Marty trusts you in his bar without him. I've lived in this town all my life and Marty won't even let me in here unless I'm with Stan."
"He's just looking out for you. Pretty rough crowd wanders in here." Liz shrugged and glanced up at the stairs. "I started working here with my husband so I was pretty safe. I carved out my own reputation because I'm a pool shark and a card sharp."
"So, you hustle? That's what they call it, right?"
Nodding haltingly, Liz considered the appeal of the blonde for Kyle. She loved her best friend to death but currently she despised his taste in women. "Only a handful of customers."
"Wow… How did you learn to do that?"
Conversation was bad. Conversation opened the door to understanding and so Liz forged ahead. "Not intentionally. I had a babysitter with two part-time jobs. She used to let me hang out and play miniature-golf and pool for free if it wasn't too busy. The cards, I learned from my father during his poker night."
"Holy cow… you've lived an exciting life."
"Actually, I learned all that before my life became exciting."
"And when did that happen?" That's when Liz realized that Betty Lou wasn't intentionally annoying her. She wasn't vapid. She was curious about the man who was currently sharing quarters in her home. She was getting to know her boyfriend's best friend, just the way Liz was getting to know her.
"When I really saw my husband for the first time and realized how much more there was to him. That's when my life became really interesting."
"You must miss him."
"I do." Liz nodded and realized she didn't feel like crying. Not a bit. She missed Max. She wanted nothing more than to have him back but she had accepted the loss at some point. A round of timers began going off, so the ladies raced into the kitchen to pull various sides and pies from the ovens. When Dr. Meyer showed up, she helped them serve up a couple of rows of plates and carved the bird when it came out of the oven. Everyone took two plates out to the bar, Liz made a second trip. By then, the stragglers of the group (i.e. the guys) had wandered in for the meal when they realized Liz's cottage was vacant of both her and of good-smelling food. Liz took Betty Lou and Kyle's hand and they all bowed their heads. "Let us give thanks for everyday on this Earth. For the friends and family that we celebrate with and those who are far away." Liz had to swallow a lump when Kyle squeezed her hand. "Even though we are not all eating in one room, we will be sharing life and laughter."
They broke apart and took seats. Dr. Meyer grabbed two plates and pointed up the stairs. Bobby, Kyle and Betty Lou sat at the bar to eat their dinner while the men discussed some business. Liz helped Sam hobble over to a booth and set his plate in front of him. He stared at it long and hard. "Thanks. I haven't had one of these since college."
"I haven't had one ever…" Dean nodded to his plate. "Unless the box form counts."
"It doesn't." Sam shook his head. As he dug into his plate, he stared at his brother. "Mom didn't do Thanksgiving?"
"The last one I had with her, I was three. I don't really remember." Dean tentatively tasted a little of everything on the plate.
"I didn't poison it." Liz scoffed at him and helped herself to her own plate.
"Forgive my brother. He's never had a home cooked Thanksgiving and he's confused." He took a huge bite of stuffing. "Good job. I salute the cook."
"Thank you. I've been working hard for two days." Liz relaxed and began to eat, though Dean's eyes on her did nothing to relax her further.
"Are you wearing a dress?" Dean managed to shift his eyes to her face and cleared his throat.
"Yes. I wear a dress to Thanksgiving. Part of my upbringing." He was so annoying!
"And now he's picturing you without it." Sam kicked his brother under the table.
"Ow." Dean jerked away, only to rap his knee on underside of the table. "Shit."
Liz avoided looking directly at him and tried to eat and chat with Sam. Her mind was not going to wander back to times in the last week where there were lips and hands in places that felt so good. She had to keep her mind off Dean and get through the day without finding herself alone with him. "Dr. Meyer is upstairs with Marty, when she comes down, she could look at your leg."
"Yes." Sam groaned a satisfied noise. "Maybe she'll cut it off me. I'm getting seconds."
"I can get them." She protested and started to rise.
"No. I’m getting them." Sam waved her off and hobbled away.
"Can I look at your leg?" Dean set his fork down with a smirk.
"You can look at my fist." She smiled sweetly at him.
"I don't warrant eye contact?"
"I don't know.""Well, let me rephrase my earlier comments since my meaning was lost in transmission." Dean cleared this throat. "You look very nice in a dress. You cook very well."
"Thank you, Dean." That felt nice. To be complimented by someone other than her boss, landlord or best friend. "You clean up very nice, too."
"I've been thinking about that last conversation we had."
He had to go there and ruin all hopes of an uncomplicated day. "Oh?"
"I can't expect any sort of anything from you until I show you something."
Grasping for anything that would alleviate the tension in her body, she opted for humor. "Is this gonna get dirty?"
"Funny gal." Dean shook his head but took a breath to say what he needed to say. "I've never had a tether before."
It didn't take her long to figure out what he was trying to say. Dean was a complicated guy but his metaphors were fairly simple. She straightened in her seat. "Is that what I am? A tether?"
"I keep coming back here to see you." He met her eyes. "I make stupid excuses and Bobby charges an arm and a leg for parts… so in the end… It's because of you."
"You're making your brother keep his cast on an extra month because you wanted to stick him in Bobby's extra room so you could see me?"
"When you put it that way…" A smirk crossed his face as he glanced back where he could see Sam wobbling around on his encased leg. "Well, that's just a bonus and kind of funny."
She watched his face carefully. The wavering smile, the flicker of his eyes. "You're really worried about Sam."
"Who's worried about me?" Sam dropped back into his seat with a healthy pile of food.
"Me." Liz blurted out. "Pace yourself."
"Can't. Stan and Bobby are a plate ahead of me, already." Sam picked up his fork, ready to put a dent in his second heaping plate.
"Help yourself, Dean." Liz jerked her head to the side. "I'm gonna go pack up some stuff for Dr. Meyer to take with her." She dragged herself away from the table to where Kyle was beating out a rhythm on the bar. Bobby had already taken himself and some dessert home. Betty Lou was listening with rapt attention as Kyle rambled on about something he'd heard down at the garage. "What are you talking about?"
"Some guys and some gals are heading out into the fields for a booze-out tonight. Wanna come?"
"I'll think about it." That brought back all sorts of noxious memories from high school.
"You'll want to change before you go out there." Betty Lou warned. She flicked her eyes at her boyfriend then back to Liz. "And make sure you've got some kind of escort cause it can get rowdy and people get separated."
"She can stick with us." Kyle promised.
"I just said I'll think about it. I don't know if I'll go."
Kyle cleared his throat before imparting a warning he wanted her to take seriously. "Uncomplicated things don't complicate themselves if they stay at home when there's a party."
Later that night…
Dean looked around. "I don’t see a booze-out. You begged me to escort you out here and then you made Sam make me and now we're in the middle of nowhere with no booze. It's highly annoying."
"You're right. We must have made a wrong turn." Liz stared out around them and shivered. The night had suddenly gone chilly.
"Aren't these things usually marked with a burning bush or something?"
"A bonfire, I guess. I haven't been to one since my early high school days." She frowned. "Which, actually, I used to go to with Stan and I was usually left alone, cold, and hanging with some guy just because he was sober and I could trust him."
"You saying you trust me?"
"About as far as I can throw you but Betty Lou was giving me the impression she'd be dragging Kyle off before it was all over. I don't know all those other people well enough to drink with them but I wanted to have some fun."
"So you hauled my ass out because…"
"Because you're imposing as a figure and I can always say Marty hired you as my bodyguard. Most everyone is afraid of Marty."
"But you know what happens when I drink." He teased.
"Which is why I plan to knock the beer out of your hand fairly often."
"Not to mention smacking me upside the head regularly. You're lucky I don't have a chronic concussion." He was starting to get really, really ticked off at her brushing off his comments. "What if I wanted to get laid at this thing? I couldn't with you hanging off me all night."
"Like I would ever hang all over you." Just as the last word escaped her mouth, her heel caught in a divot and she would have plunged to the ground had Dean not caught her and hauled her back up. Liz clung to him for dear life until she got her feet under her again. "Thanks."
"Okay. Look. We've hiked like… a mile… there's no party. Somebody lied to you."
"Betty Lou wouldn't lie."
"She wouldn't?"
"She's too stupid to lie."
"Do we not like Betty Lou?" Dean laughed and let her get her bearings so they could turn around.
"I like her fine. I'm glad I'm not the one who's sleeping with her. I just expected him to fall for someone brighter."
"Because you're brilliant and you're one of his exes. What are his other exes like?"
"Well… dumber than Betty Lou. I guess she's an improvement over Vicki." She shrugged, then shuddered at the memory of seeing him groping the half-naked blonde in the back of a truck. Some things were just better left to the imagination or not thought about at all. "It's his life and Kyle's mantra is simplicity in all things. No lying. No cheating. Just truth as far as it doesn't sting. Golden rule."
"The Golden rule? As in the one they teach kids in Sunday school."
"That's the one." She laughed. "When we were still in high school, he had… a really traumatic introduction to our insane life. He went to football camp all weirded out. He came home a Buddhist beginner."
"Buddhism. Wow. Fat, bald man. Jolly. Not as cool as Santa though."
"Yeah." She sobered a bit as she recalled Sam's words on Winchester Christmases past. Lightning in the distance lit up the sky like daylight. "I think we turned the wrong way."
"I think you're right." Dean frowned into the darkness as he tried to make out the buildings to ascertain the right way to go. Thunder slammed into them with the sudden chill. "Oh, shit."
Then the skies opened up, drenching them both with a male rain. Dean grabbed her arm and they both ran for the nearest shelter while the rain landed in hard pellets on their skin. How they managed to avoid all the pits and puddles and the dangers of Liz's heels, Dean never knew but the relatively dry shelter would have to do until the rain let up.
Liz brushed her rain-soaked hair out of her face. Dean shook his head free of excess rain like a dog, earning a small laugh from his companion. The sudden torrent had caught them both by surprise and broke up any serious mood that had been descending. Standing in the cool lean-to, she realized she'd been having fun. Fun with Dean Winchester. There was no real reason for standing so close to him but she couldn't make herself take a step backward. She remembered that first kiss in the bar. A subsequent kiss in the weeds… and making out in her kitchen that one time.
Dean shrugged out of his soaked jacket, then immediately felt her body against his. A first time for her to make the first move. Dipping his head, he took her mouth in a dizzying kiss. There was none of the urgency that had fueled earlier kisses. This was pure hunger and passion. Clothes were stripped and tossed to the ground as blankets. His lean, taut body lay flush with her soft curves in the pile of wet clothes. Chill forgotten, they let the moment turn into a fiery culmination that weeks and months of flirting and avoiding had not accomplished.
TBC
Part 36 – The following morning…
(November 27, 2009)
Liz shivered and nuzzled into the warmth beneath her. The warmth shifted, then a hand caressed her hip. A breeze swept over her skin, making her huddle closer. Her hand slid up his chest but didn't encounter the soft, sparse, chest hair she had learned to expect from her years of lovemaking. Then she remembered as her brain gradually acclimated to being awake.
When she opened her eyes, she would not see bronzed skin and a mole under the left pectoral almost under his arm. Wincing at the memory of her deceased husband, she took a deep breath and forced open her eyes. The chest her head rested on was fair… and dusted lightly with freckles to match the ones on his nose. That made her smile for some reason that she couldn't quite fathom. Still, she didn't feel the way she'd expected.
Dean Winchester had a lean but solid frame. Stocky might describe him if he was inches shorter with a pound or two to spare but there was no padding to speak of. Biting her lip, she caved to the urge to trace a design between the little dots on his flesh. After a few stars and moons, he woke somewhat groggily with a gravelly voice. "Why is my ass wet?"
She took a look around at their damp hiding place. "We fell asleep on our wet clothes."
"Ah. Right." He set his head back down with a groan, then a grin. "I knew that."
"You look awfully proud of yourself."
"Any morning I wake up being fondled by a beautiful girl is a good morning."
"You call that being fondled?" Her hand slid down his chest and smoothed over his belly and then…
"Oh, yeah, that's the stuff." He ground out before his breath was stolen from him. Any chill he'd woken with was quickly replaced with a raging heat. Physical needs overcame the niggling conscience, which quickly led to another round of pleasure. A second hurried chance to feel all there was, to focus on nothing but getting to that blissful moment where nothing at all mattered.
Liz gyrated slowly as she came down. Dean ran his hands up her ribs, a half-assed attempt to still her hips. Gently, she laid her upper body against his, resting her forehead on his shoulder. Once their flesh cooled, they were left with the bright shining light of day. Biting her lip, she picked up her head. She took a deep breath before rising to start finding her clothes.
Mood thoroughly squashed, the awkward dressing passed in near silence. Her mind was suddenly racing with all the reasons that it was wrong. All the reasons that it shouldn’t have happened, and all the reasons that she should keep it from happening again, given all the things that they had done were not what she had been expecting. Liz stopped as she bent to put on her shoes. "I don't do this, Dean."
"Yeah, I figured." He nodded as he pulled up his pants.
"But we don't really have…"
"Have what?"
"What I mean is… You're not a stay-in-one-place type of person. I'm not sure we'd do well in a relationship. Not that… um… anyway…" Liz stood in front of where he was seated. "I like you, Dean, but… in light of our circumstances; I don't think it's wise for us to continue this."
"Okay." Dean raised his eyebrows as he bent to pick up his boots. "I hadn't actually gotten that far. My brain is still stuck at… 'Whoa. Liz jumped my bones.'"
Liz froze for a moment then laughed out loud. "That shouldn't sound so charming."
"But you did…" He pointed out. "Jump my bones… what was it about me? My devilish good looks? My body? Too much to resist? Huh? Did my eyes smolder? I'm told my eyes smolder."
"I'm not going to answer that." She blushed. She had been the instigator and now he was teasing her.
Dean yanked on his boots and grabbed his jacket off the ground. He shook it out before pulling it on. "We should be able to see our way back now."
Liz would have rather not had him touching her arm the whole way back but her impractical shoes kept sinking into the mud. She needed his help to pull herself out and not sink in again with the next step. Eventually, it was a cause to laugh and that helped her relax somewhat. It was still early; nobody was on the road as they crossed. Bobby hadn't even opened the shop that they could see as they passed. Circling around the main house, they slowed.
Dean leaned on the wall when they got to her door. Liz unlocked the door. "You didn't have to walk me home."
"Come on. I'm being a gentleman." He managed what he hoped was a charming smile. “Give me some credit, here.”
Her hand rested on the knob but she didn't turn it. "40 minutes ago, you weren't a gentleman."
"Well, I don't know any ladies who have a mouth like yours about 40 minutes ago."
"Touché." She nodded, screwing up her mouth to prevent a smile.
"You know… it's okay to exist in the moment. It doesn't have to be a big deal." He offered lamely.
"You're right. Thank you." She pushed her door open slightly.
"Lillian…"
"Liz." She corrected.
"Liz," he amended. "You're too old to feel ashamed about a little bit of pleasure, you know?" Then he turned the charm back on. "I'm something of a turning point for most, anyway."
"You're so full of it." She turned away to step inside.
Dean pulled her around and took her mouth in a searing kiss. Liz resisted for about a second less than their first kiss then allowed the deepening kiss. Then she was welcoming the tender assault until her knees started to buckle. Dean released her mouth. "Liz?"
"Hm?" She breathed out and her eyes opened just a crack.
"See you later." He turned and walked away. Liz stood in the doorway, dumfounded.
Before he turned the corner, she found her tongue. "Why do you always have to do that!?"
--
Liz woke when her phone began dancing on the nightstand. It was too frickin’ early to be… "Hello?"
"Happy Day after Turkey Day!"
That was a voice way too cheery for her mood. "Hi, Maria."
"Are you sleeping?"
There was the possibility that she was still asleep, her eyes had yet to really open. "I was."
"But it's nearly noon."
"Late night." She had to bite her lip against the memory even as her body’s aches reminded her that it had been an early morning as well.
"Do tell."
"No gossip, sorry. Kyle and his love sent me on a wild goose chase where I got lost in the dark, trapped in the rain and made it home just after dawn."
"That sucks. I'll beat his ass. So, what did you do for the actual day?"
"Cooked. We ate at the bar. I fed the regulars."
"That's so sweet. Of course you did."
"Maria?"
"Yeah?""I'm sleepy and I have to work tonight. The replacements seem to be sticking but they're stupid. I have to be there."
"Michael and I analyzed our situation. We've decided that it’s time to get married."
Whatever that meant. "He didn't ask you?"
"We fought. Then we fought. Then we fought some more. Then we made up… five or six times and yesterday… he looked at me over the table. My mother pretended not to notice but he was staring at me and not eating. He says, 'so you really want to be with me forever.' More of a statement than a question, you know the way he does sometimes. I shrugged. Then he turns to the rest of the table. 'I have an announcement of sorts.' The table went silent. Mom and Valenti and your parents. They stared and I waited. Michael sits up straight and clears his throat. He says, 'We should have done it a long time ago but we're gonna do it now. Maria and I are getting married.'"
"Just like that?" Liz was definitely awake now. Maria and Michael were getting married.
"Just like that. I almost died. Everyone was hugging me but I was dumbfounded, in shock. Speechless for the first time in my life and I mean it literally. After dinner, during the dessert coma, I finally let it sink in. We want to do it soon but after the holidays."
"Well, congratulations. It sounds wonderfully in Michael's way."
"You're still mad at him, aren't you."
"It doesn't make any sense to be mad at him but I can't forget. He was my husband and he lied to me. Michael was supposed to be his best friend and he lied to me. It's done. I can't change it but I can't forget it. Leave it alone. I will come to your wedding. I will be endlessly happy that you are happy but I can't forget."
"Okay."
"I am happy for you. I really am."
"Alright." She took a deep breath. "No relationships on the horizon?"
Relationships?? Try getting naked and dirty in a field. "I don't think so. I think I'm just gonna play it cool until something happens."
"Okay. I’m gonna let you get to sleep but you and me are going to talk about you coming home for Christmas."
"We'll talk. I make no promises." Liz whispered her goodbyes and hung up the phone.
That Night…
Liz skirted around Kyle's table. "Aw, come on, Lil…" She ignored him and he followed her into the kitchen. "Lillian, we tried to call you. We saw it was going to storm and we bailed on going. You didn't pick up the phone. How was I supposed to know that you were going to go? You had acted like you weren't interested."
"Forget about it." She said finally.
"Are you okay?" Kyle pressed. "Did something happen?"
"Nothing bad. Got lost, got wet. Marched home in the dawning hour."
"The guys ended up not going at all because it was gonna pour down."
"Yeah. It did. I think maybe some raindrops left bruises."
"How can I make it up to you?"
Liz screwed up her mouth. "Well, I did ruin a pair of shoes that I saved three months for."
"I have to buy you a torture implement?"
"Yes." She pulled a beer from the bucket headed for the bar. She handed it to him. "I'm a size 6 and only real leather will do."
"My kind of girl." Dean called into the backroom. "Quality. Make sure the heels are like seven inches high.” He stretched his index and thumb far apart to indicate what he thought of her taste in heels. “She's into that."
"Can I help you?" Liz crossed her arms and turned to the door.
"His royal whininess requests your presence."
"He can't operate a phone anymore? What'd you do? Break his fingers?"
"Close. I wanted to." Dean held out the charger to his brother's phone from the inside of his jacket. "I was coming to get a drink anyway."
Liz took the beer from Kyle and put it in Dean's hand, ignoring the shiver she got when her hand brushed his. "See you later."
Liz didn't know how she managed to get out of the bar without tripping over her own feet. Despite his little pep talk that morning, she couldn't help but feel a little shame. She passed Bobby on his way to the bar. He only nodded in passing. Liz let herself into the house and climbed the dangerous stairs to the sunken bed where Sam was stretched out. "Hey, what are you doing here?"
"I was told my presence was requested. I haven't seen you all that much, so I figured a break was in order."
"I really appreciate it but who told you that?"
"Never mind." Liz pursed her lips. "I can always kill him later."
"Is he screwing with your head?" Sam chuckled and made an attempt to sit up but the ancient mattress just fought him the whole way. "I'm driving him nuts. I figure if I get him wound up tight enough, he'll take me out to Baxter and get Dr. Meyer to saw this thing off."
"He's getting there. Keep working him." She laughed and took a seat on the edge of the bed. "You doing okay?"
"I want it off."
"You broke it twice in one year. I think you should follow the doctor's orders."
"Is that what you told Dean? When he called you from the hospital?"
"Yeah. He asked my opinion and I gave it." She watched his face. "You know, he probably blames himself for you getting hurt. You're doing okay now but at the time, he sounded really worried. This is just his way of keeping you safe for a little while."
"Yeah. He knows exactly where I am and he's keeping me under lock and key. Did you know that he stole my phone charger?"
"Yeah. But I've only known that for about twenty minutes."
"Apparently, I cock-blocked him last week or something." Sam shook his head and sank into the bed. "I just want to do something. Doesn't matter what. I'm sick of this room. I'm sick of Dean. I just…"
"Want the room service without the commentary?"
"Yes!"
He attempted to sit up once more. "Can you keep an eye on him for me? He's been acting really weird."
"Weirder than usual?" She cracked nervously.
"Well, he didn't come back last night and he wasn't bragging about whatever girl he nailed when he did show up. He's been… I don't know. Happy? Whistling and the whole bit. So, just keep an eye out. I want to get to the bottom of this."
She didn’t dare hope, because she didn’t… "Because he's happy? You don't want him to be happy."
"No, it's not that. He's… it's bizarre. He's been beating himself up, like you said. So why did he stop? What's going on? I just want to make sure he wasn't possessed again. You know?"
"Yeah, I know. You're worried about him.”
TBC
(November 27, 2009)
Liz shivered and nuzzled into the warmth beneath her. The warmth shifted, then a hand caressed her hip. A breeze swept over her skin, making her huddle closer. Her hand slid up his chest but didn't encounter the soft, sparse, chest hair she had learned to expect from her years of lovemaking. Then she remembered as her brain gradually acclimated to being awake.
When she opened her eyes, she would not see bronzed skin and a mole under the left pectoral almost under his arm. Wincing at the memory of her deceased husband, she took a deep breath and forced open her eyes. The chest her head rested on was fair… and dusted lightly with freckles to match the ones on his nose. That made her smile for some reason that she couldn't quite fathom. Still, she didn't feel the way she'd expected.
Dean Winchester had a lean but solid frame. Stocky might describe him if he was inches shorter with a pound or two to spare but there was no padding to speak of. Biting her lip, she caved to the urge to trace a design between the little dots on his flesh. After a few stars and moons, he woke somewhat groggily with a gravelly voice. "Why is my ass wet?"
She took a look around at their damp hiding place. "We fell asleep on our wet clothes."
"Ah. Right." He set his head back down with a groan, then a grin. "I knew that."
"You look awfully proud of yourself."
"Any morning I wake up being fondled by a beautiful girl is a good morning."
"You call that being fondled?" Her hand slid down his chest and smoothed over his belly and then…
"Oh, yeah, that's the stuff." He ground out before his breath was stolen from him. Any chill he'd woken with was quickly replaced with a raging heat. Physical needs overcame the niggling conscience, which quickly led to another round of pleasure. A second hurried chance to feel all there was, to focus on nothing but getting to that blissful moment where nothing at all mattered.
Liz gyrated slowly as she came down. Dean ran his hands up her ribs, a half-assed attempt to still her hips. Gently, she laid her upper body against his, resting her forehead on his shoulder. Once their flesh cooled, they were left with the bright shining light of day. Biting her lip, she picked up her head. She took a deep breath before rising to start finding her clothes.
Mood thoroughly squashed, the awkward dressing passed in near silence. Her mind was suddenly racing with all the reasons that it was wrong. All the reasons that it shouldn’t have happened, and all the reasons that she should keep it from happening again, given all the things that they had done were not what she had been expecting. Liz stopped as she bent to put on her shoes. "I don't do this, Dean."
"Yeah, I figured." He nodded as he pulled up his pants.
"But we don't really have…"
"Have what?"
"What I mean is… You're not a stay-in-one-place type of person. I'm not sure we'd do well in a relationship. Not that… um… anyway…" Liz stood in front of where he was seated. "I like you, Dean, but… in light of our circumstances; I don't think it's wise for us to continue this."
"Okay." Dean raised his eyebrows as he bent to pick up his boots. "I hadn't actually gotten that far. My brain is still stuck at… 'Whoa. Liz jumped my bones.'"
Liz froze for a moment then laughed out loud. "That shouldn't sound so charming."
"But you did…" He pointed out. "Jump my bones… what was it about me? My devilish good looks? My body? Too much to resist? Huh? Did my eyes smolder? I'm told my eyes smolder."
"I'm not going to answer that." She blushed. She had been the instigator and now he was teasing her.
Dean yanked on his boots and grabbed his jacket off the ground. He shook it out before pulling it on. "We should be able to see our way back now."
Liz would have rather not had him touching her arm the whole way back but her impractical shoes kept sinking into the mud. She needed his help to pull herself out and not sink in again with the next step. Eventually, it was a cause to laugh and that helped her relax somewhat. It was still early; nobody was on the road as they crossed. Bobby hadn't even opened the shop that they could see as they passed. Circling around the main house, they slowed.
Dean leaned on the wall when they got to her door. Liz unlocked the door. "You didn't have to walk me home."
"Come on. I'm being a gentleman." He managed what he hoped was a charming smile. “Give me some credit, here.”
Her hand rested on the knob but she didn't turn it. "40 minutes ago, you weren't a gentleman."
"Well, I don't know any ladies who have a mouth like yours about 40 minutes ago."
"Touché." She nodded, screwing up her mouth to prevent a smile.
"You know… it's okay to exist in the moment. It doesn't have to be a big deal." He offered lamely.
"You're right. Thank you." She pushed her door open slightly.
"Lillian…"
"Liz." She corrected.
"Liz," he amended. "You're too old to feel ashamed about a little bit of pleasure, you know?" Then he turned the charm back on. "I'm something of a turning point for most, anyway."
"You're so full of it." She turned away to step inside.
Dean pulled her around and took her mouth in a searing kiss. Liz resisted for about a second less than their first kiss then allowed the deepening kiss. Then she was welcoming the tender assault until her knees started to buckle. Dean released her mouth. "Liz?"
"Hm?" She breathed out and her eyes opened just a crack.
"See you later." He turned and walked away. Liz stood in the doorway, dumfounded.
Before he turned the corner, she found her tongue. "Why do you always have to do that!?"
--
Liz woke when her phone began dancing on the nightstand. It was too frickin’ early to be… "Hello?"
"Happy Day after Turkey Day!"
That was a voice way too cheery for her mood. "Hi, Maria."
"Are you sleeping?"
There was the possibility that she was still asleep, her eyes had yet to really open. "I was."
"But it's nearly noon."
"Late night." She had to bite her lip against the memory even as her body’s aches reminded her that it had been an early morning as well.
"Do tell."
"No gossip, sorry. Kyle and his love sent me on a wild goose chase where I got lost in the dark, trapped in the rain and made it home just after dawn."
"That sucks. I'll beat his ass. So, what did you do for the actual day?"
"Cooked. We ate at the bar. I fed the regulars."
"That's so sweet. Of course you did."
"Maria?"
"Yeah?""I'm sleepy and I have to work tonight. The replacements seem to be sticking but they're stupid. I have to be there."
"Michael and I analyzed our situation. We've decided that it’s time to get married."
Whatever that meant. "He didn't ask you?"
"We fought. Then we fought. Then we fought some more. Then we made up… five or six times and yesterday… he looked at me over the table. My mother pretended not to notice but he was staring at me and not eating. He says, 'so you really want to be with me forever.' More of a statement than a question, you know the way he does sometimes. I shrugged. Then he turns to the rest of the table. 'I have an announcement of sorts.' The table went silent. Mom and Valenti and your parents. They stared and I waited. Michael sits up straight and clears his throat. He says, 'We should have done it a long time ago but we're gonna do it now. Maria and I are getting married.'"
"Just like that?" Liz was definitely awake now. Maria and Michael were getting married.
"Just like that. I almost died. Everyone was hugging me but I was dumbfounded, in shock. Speechless for the first time in my life and I mean it literally. After dinner, during the dessert coma, I finally let it sink in. We want to do it soon but after the holidays."
"Well, congratulations. It sounds wonderfully in Michael's way."
"You're still mad at him, aren't you."
"It doesn't make any sense to be mad at him but I can't forget. He was my husband and he lied to me. Michael was supposed to be his best friend and he lied to me. It's done. I can't change it but I can't forget it. Leave it alone. I will come to your wedding. I will be endlessly happy that you are happy but I can't forget."
"Okay."
"I am happy for you. I really am."
"Alright." She took a deep breath. "No relationships on the horizon?"
Relationships?? Try getting naked and dirty in a field. "I don't think so. I think I'm just gonna play it cool until something happens."
"Okay. I’m gonna let you get to sleep but you and me are going to talk about you coming home for Christmas."
"We'll talk. I make no promises." Liz whispered her goodbyes and hung up the phone.
That Night…
Liz skirted around Kyle's table. "Aw, come on, Lil…" She ignored him and he followed her into the kitchen. "Lillian, we tried to call you. We saw it was going to storm and we bailed on going. You didn't pick up the phone. How was I supposed to know that you were going to go? You had acted like you weren't interested."
"Forget about it." She said finally.
"Are you okay?" Kyle pressed. "Did something happen?"
"Nothing bad. Got lost, got wet. Marched home in the dawning hour."
"The guys ended up not going at all because it was gonna pour down."
"Yeah. It did. I think maybe some raindrops left bruises."
"How can I make it up to you?"
Liz screwed up her mouth. "Well, I did ruin a pair of shoes that I saved three months for."
"I have to buy you a torture implement?"
"Yes." She pulled a beer from the bucket headed for the bar. She handed it to him. "I'm a size 6 and only real leather will do."
"My kind of girl." Dean called into the backroom. "Quality. Make sure the heels are like seven inches high.” He stretched his index and thumb far apart to indicate what he thought of her taste in heels. “She's into that."
"Can I help you?" Liz crossed her arms and turned to the door.
"His royal whininess requests your presence."
"He can't operate a phone anymore? What'd you do? Break his fingers?"
"Close. I wanted to." Dean held out the charger to his brother's phone from the inside of his jacket. "I was coming to get a drink anyway."
Liz took the beer from Kyle and put it in Dean's hand, ignoring the shiver she got when her hand brushed his. "See you later."
Liz didn't know how she managed to get out of the bar without tripping over her own feet. Despite his little pep talk that morning, she couldn't help but feel a little shame. She passed Bobby on his way to the bar. He only nodded in passing. Liz let herself into the house and climbed the dangerous stairs to the sunken bed where Sam was stretched out. "Hey, what are you doing here?"
"I was told my presence was requested. I haven't seen you all that much, so I figured a break was in order."
"I really appreciate it but who told you that?"
"Never mind." Liz pursed her lips. "I can always kill him later."
"Is he screwing with your head?" Sam chuckled and made an attempt to sit up but the ancient mattress just fought him the whole way. "I'm driving him nuts. I figure if I get him wound up tight enough, he'll take me out to Baxter and get Dr. Meyer to saw this thing off."
"He's getting there. Keep working him." She laughed and took a seat on the edge of the bed. "You doing okay?"
"I want it off."
"You broke it twice in one year. I think you should follow the doctor's orders."
"Is that what you told Dean? When he called you from the hospital?"
"Yeah. He asked my opinion and I gave it." She watched his face. "You know, he probably blames himself for you getting hurt. You're doing okay now but at the time, he sounded really worried. This is just his way of keeping you safe for a little while."
"Yeah. He knows exactly where I am and he's keeping me under lock and key. Did you know that he stole my phone charger?"
"Yeah. But I've only known that for about twenty minutes."
"Apparently, I cock-blocked him last week or something." Sam shook his head and sank into the bed. "I just want to do something. Doesn't matter what. I'm sick of this room. I'm sick of Dean. I just…"
"Want the room service without the commentary?"
"Yes!"
He attempted to sit up once more. "Can you keep an eye on him for me? He's been acting really weird."
"Weirder than usual?" She cracked nervously.
"Well, he didn't come back last night and he wasn't bragging about whatever girl he nailed when he did show up. He's been… I don't know. Happy? Whistling and the whole bit. So, just keep an eye out. I want to get to the bottom of this."
She didn’t dare hope, because she didn’t… "Because he's happy? You don't want him to be happy."
"No, it's not that. He's… it's bizarre. He's been beating himself up, like you said. So why did he stop? What's going on? I just want to make sure he wasn't possessed again. You know?"
"Yeah, I know. You're worried about him.”
TBC
Part 37 – The next night…
(November 28, 2009)
"Lillian! Go out with me."
Liz sighed and turned around to face him without letting the fact that it was a chore cross her face. "Billy, you'd only break my heart."
"Come on… I'm the only single guy in the bar."
"You say that like it should entice me." She shook her head and bussed a nearby table. "I don't date customers."
"You dated Stan." He followed her up to the bar.
"I went to high school with Stan. Anyway, that was years ago. Like a decade." She scoffed and pinned Kyle a look across the bar. Kyle just grinned and sipped his beer. "Sorry, Billy."
"Man… Lillian, come on. Give me a chance. I'm a good guy." Good and drunk.
"Billy, you're new. Leave the girl be." Bobby grumbled from his stool at the end of the bar, a pile of newspapers under his elbows.
"Thank you, Bobby." Liz reached over and squeezed his hand.
Dean sat himself down at the bar and tapped it. "Just a beer, if you would."
"Billy, this is Dean. You bother Lillian again and Dean will take your head off." Bobby explained to the new mechanic, gripping Dean’s shoulders lightly as he stood. "Dean, this is Billy. He's going to be a gentleman tonight. I'm going to bed."
"Wait, what am I doing?" Dean turned but Bobby was already out the door.
"I see how it is. You've got this town rigged." Billy kept up with Liz as she moved up and down the bar. "Just, come on. One date. I'll show you the time of your life."
"Have you ever been parasailing?" Liz arched an eyebrow as she poured Dean's beer.
"What's that?" The mechanic furrowed his brow.
"Then you can't show me the time of my life, can you?"
"Are you flirting with this guy?" Dean sat up and pointed to the obviously desperate and over-aged punk.
"No." Liz shrugged but couldn't really deny that the thought had crossed her mind.
"Is he bothering you?"
"He's harmless." She shook her head.
"All right, pal. Just leave her alone." Dean stood and turned to the guy.
Too much testosterone in the bar, tonight. She sighed. "Dean, it's okay. He's not hurting anybody."
"Buddy. I'm not looking for trouble and I don't remember inviting you into my private conversation with the lady." Billy stood up.
"No." Liz rushed around the counter. "No. Stop. Right now. This goes no further." She put herself between them. "Now, look. It was some innocent flirting. I said 'no.' Bobby told him to back off. That's all there is to it."
"You heard her. Beat it." Dean cocked his head to the side, gesturing to the door.
"Who the hell are you?" Billy was about to say more but the girl shoved him back into his seat. "Hey."
"You sit. Drink your beer. Then go home." She turned and poked Dean in the chest. "You and me. Outside. Right now."
Obediently, he followed her out the back of the bar but not before rolling his shoulders and glaring at this Billy guy. He was not prepared for the assault on his person once outside the bar. She actually hit him and it actually hurt. "Ow. What was that for?"
"What are you? Some kind of caveman? I told you that it was fine."
"You were seriously attracted to that guy? I think I did you a favor."
"Where do you get off?" Liz shoved Dean against the building.
"Apparently in a shed in the middle of a field." Why did he have to open his mouth? She smacked him again then began pacing the alleyway.
She shook her head. "A moment of weakness."
"Just one moment? Then that other time was a conscious decision?" Dean shoved his hands into his jacket, studying her and trying to figure out what exactly he'd done to piss her off.
"Stop being charming." She made a face at him.
"Without the charm, I'm just rude and rude doesn't get me into your good graces." He managed to flash a smile at her while he leaned on the wall he'd been pushed into.
"Well, I guess it's good that you know your strength." She rubbed at the back of her neck. The night had turned on a dime. One minute she'd been having fun turning down a handsome man's flirting and the next she was breaking up the beginnings of a brawl. She didn’t even know where to start in correcting things.
"I do have more than one. Strength, that is."
"You do?"
"I'm charming. Handsome. Athletic… black belt in something or other. I am a master hunter and as you can attest; an animal in the sack." He counted them off on his fingers.
"An animal, you claim." She just blinked at him. His hubris was kind of amusing.
"Come on…" He pushed off the wall and gave her a self-satisfied smirk. "I was good. You can admit it."
Crossing her arms, she stopped pacing and just stared at him. "I don't recall an animal."
He visibly winced. "You're hurting me. I'm wounded."
"How about a little deflated? Girls don't like guys with overblown egos. It's a turn off." She shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets, quite a feat as she realized they were her tight jeans. "When a girl can make a guy feel good, then she's accomplished something. You wouldn't want to deny a woman the pleasure of stroking your ego for you, would you?"
"So you're doing me a favor, then." He grinned and fell back against the wall.
"Maybe."
"Only… I'm a man of few possessions." He shrugged and spread his arms out but they were still restrained by his hands in his pockets. "I feel like maybe you need a repeat demonstration. So… that you can show me how much of an animal I can be."
"That's a manly directive… but I don't have time." Liz stepped around him to the door. "I'm working."
"I think you need an escort home. You can defend yourself, sure." Dean cleared his throat. "Maybe you let me have the pleasure of thinking that I have the ability to protect you some precious few yards between this dump and your home."
"See, now you know the rules." She bit back a smile and pulled open the door. "Don't come back inside. I get off in two hours." She held up a hand and quickly got the warning out. "Don't ruin the moment we just had by saying what I know you want to say."
"You're the boss." He didn’t even try to hide the smirk. They both knew what he had been about to say.
Later that night…
Liz laid her head on her own pillow. She had never figured Dean for a cuddler but he hugged her body to his like a pillow, his head tucked between her chin and shoulder. She swept her hand over his short hair. He shifted slightly onto his back, taking her with him. "Hey."
"Hm?"
"I'm gonna need my body back."
"Uh-uh." Dean didn't want to open his eyes.
"I have to pee."
"Nope."
"I'm coming back."
"Okay." Dean disentangled himself from around her.
Liz returned a short while later, with a long shirt covering all parts of interest and a bowl of ice cream. "Want some?"
"I didn't know you went for the food kink." He sat up, dragging his hand over his face.
"To eat, not to play with… unless you're planning on washing my sheets later."
"You're a tyrant." Taking the spoon, he tasted the ice cream and then looked around to see how the place had changed since he was 14. He had only been inside a few times before and… it was still night time. "Did you wake me up in the middle of the night?"
"Uh-huh."
"Why?"
"You have an iron-grip and I had to pee. It's not my fault you stayed awake."
Put out, he slumped back down and continued his examination. "You don't have a TV."
"Never had need for one."
"What do you do when you get bored?"
"I don't get bored. I have art classes and work and friends. I was looking into some classes at community but I don't know if I want to move to Rutherford."
"What about before?" He motioned around and wiggled his ring finger at her.
Liz shrugged with a smirk. "I had other ways of filling my time."
"So, no TV."
"Enough with the TV." She reached onto her nightstand for her book, which she slammed into his stomach. "There you go."
Dean made a face at the book. "Oprah Winfrey book club. Yeah. Right." He blew out a breath and looked her over. He opted not to comment on her attire for the moment. "So, that Billy guy…"
"Do you really want to go there?" Liz sighed heavily and turned her gaze on him. She had avoided looking directly at him since returning to bed. She didn't know how to play the game. She'd never needed to know how. She had tried to follow his lead but he was infuriating. The more she allowed herself to be around Dean, to let him touch her and make her feel all those sensations in bed… the more and more afraid of him she became. Her visions were never wrong until now. "Why did you get so bent out of shape in the first place?"
"I have seen a million guys like this Billy kid." Dean took the bowl from her. "You don't want to get mixed up with him. You're just a conquest for him. Unattainable and therefore desirable."
"And you're nothing like that." She accused lightly.
"Hey. I have some class."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. I'm still in bed. The opportune time for me to skip out was while you were peeing." Dean let that lay between them for a while. "Okay. Fine, I don't do pillow talk."
"I figured. Give me that." She took her bowl back to finish off the ice cream.
"You want me to leave?" Liz pondered that as the ice cream melted in her mouth; her eyes sliding to glance at him. "You horny little vixen."
"I didn't answer the question.""But I saw that look in your eyes." He nodded to himself with a grin. "I knew it. I still got it."
"Were you afraid you'd lost it?"
"You jumped me first."
"That was the other night. Tonight, it was all you… putting on charm, spreading around the testosterone. Making innuendos. I was just trying to have a good time turning down Billy."
"That's your idea of a good time?"
"It doesn't have to lead anywhere."
"Oh, so you've had experience messing around with a guy's hopes for a lay?"
"Maybe."
"How? You were married since birth."
"No, no. I had several opportunities to lose it before I got married and not all of them to Max. Putting a guy off and keeping him interested is a very delicate balance because the male ego is so very fragile."
"Okay. I'll buy that." Dean clasped his hands over his stomach. "So, let me ask you this… couple of months back, you came to me and reminded me that we had met before. Why?"
"It was cathartic for me."
"What's that mean?"
"It was cleansing, emotionally."
"I know what cathartic means." He rolled his eyes. "Let me rephrase. Why was it cathartic?"
"I kind of already told some of it to Sam. Kyle and I have been working on it." She set the bowl down on the night stand. "I had a vision a long time ago that you and I would be sleeping together. Scared the shit out of me." She stopped him from leaping in to defend his honor. "This was before we had met. I was married. The vision was very detailed. I didn't want it to come to pass. It still hasn't… which says to me that something changed. Something happened to prevent it from happening the way I saw it. I don't know if it's good and I don't know if it's bad. I just know that what we've been doing is not what I predicted we'd be doing. When we met that night in Racine, I rushed out of there. I was scared out of my mind because I saw you and you were lying there, laughing it up. Looking just like my…"
"What's that?" Dean sat up.
She stared at him. At the scars she knew that he had accumulated since they had met. Burns from the fire that had nearly taken Sam. Cuts from the car accident that had caused her so much grief. She laid her fingers on his arm, tracing them. "You didn't have these in my vision. Either that… day wasn't supposed to happen or we were supposed to be together before that."
"Alright. I get that I'm not a bright guy. Sammy tells me all the time but… right now… you're the one that's not making sense."
"Unless it's a ripple effect. Everything that we change affects other events and so on and so forth."
"Aw, crap. You're not going to get into that metaphysical shit right now are you? That shit takes all night to get through. I can handle getting busy til I pass out or just passing out right now."
"Then go to sleep." Liz waved him off as she rose to find a notebook.
He grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked her back onto the bed. "How about you start over? Tell me exactly what you're talking about."
TBC
(November 28, 2009)
"Lillian! Go out with me."
Liz sighed and turned around to face him without letting the fact that it was a chore cross her face. "Billy, you'd only break my heart."
"Come on… I'm the only single guy in the bar."
"You say that like it should entice me." She shook her head and bussed a nearby table. "I don't date customers."
"You dated Stan." He followed her up to the bar.
"I went to high school with Stan. Anyway, that was years ago. Like a decade." She scoffed and pinned Kyle a look across the bar. Kyle just grinned and sipped his beer. "Sorry, Billy."
"Man… Lillian, come on. Give me a chance. I'm a good guy." Good and drunk.
"Billy, you're new. Leave the girl be." Bobby grumbled from his stool at the end of the bar, a pile of newspapers under his elbows.
"Thank you, Bobby." Liz reached over and squeezed his hand.
Dean sat himself down at the bar and tapped it. "Just a beer, if you would."
"Billy, this is Dean. You bother Lillian again and Dean will take your head off." Bobby explained to the new mechanic, gripping Dean’s shoulders lightly as he stood. "Dean, this is Billy. He's going to be a gentleman tonight. I'm going to bed."
"Wait, what am I doing?" Dean turned but Bobby was already out the door.
"I see how it is. You've got this town rigged." Billy kept up with Liz as she moved up and down the bar. "Just, come on. One date. I'll show you the time of your life."
"Have you ever been parasailing?" Liz arched an eyebrow as she poured Dean's beer.
"What's that?" The mechanic furrowed his brow.
"Then you can't show me the time of my life, can you?"
"Are you flirting with this guy?" Dean sat up and pointed to the obviously desperate and over-aged punk.
"No." Liz shrugged but couldn't really deny that the thought had crossed her mind.
"Is he bothering you?"
"He's harmless." She shook her head.
"All right, pal. Just leave her alone." Dean stood and turned to the guy.
Too much testosterone in the bar, tonight. She sighed. "Dean, it's okay. He's not hurting anybody."
"Buddy. I'm not looking for trouble and I don't remember inviting you into my private conversation with the lady." Billy stood up.
"No." Liz rushed around the counter. "No. Stop. Right now. This goes no further." She put herself between them. "Now, look. It was some innocent flirting. I said 'no.' Bobby told him to back off. That's all there is to it."
"You heard her. Beat it." Dean cocked his head to the side, gesturing to the door.
"Who the hell are you?" Billy was about to say more but the girl shoved him back into his seat. "Hey."
"You sit. Drink your beer. Then go home." She turned and poked Dean in the chest. "You and me. Outside. Right now."
Obediently, he followed her out the back of the bar but not before rolling his shoulders and glaring at this Billy guy. He was not prepared for the assault on his person once outside the bar. She actually hit him and it actually hurt. "Ow. What was that for?"
"What are you? Some kind of caveman? I told you that it was fine."
"You were seriously attracted to that guy? I think I did you a favor."
"Where do you get off?" Liz shoved Dean against the building.
"Apparently in a shed in the middle of a field." Why did he have to open his mouth? She smacked him again then began pacing the alleyway.
She shook her head. "A moment of weakness."
"Just one moment? Then that other time was a conscious decision?" Dean shoved his hands into his jacket, studying her and trying to figure out what exactly he'd done to piss her off.
"Stop being charming." She made a face at him.
"Without the charm, I'm just rude and rude doesn't get me into your good graces." He managed to flash a smile at her while he leaned on the wall he'd been pushed into.
"Well, I guess it's good that you know your strength." She rubbed at the back of her neck. The night had turned on a dime. One minute she'd been having fun turning down a handsome man's flirting and the next she was breaking up the beginnings of a brawl. She didn’t even know where to start in correcting things.
"I do have more than one. Strength, that is."
"You do?"
"I'm charming. Handsome. Athletic… black belt in something or other. I am a master hunter and as you can attest; an animal in the sack." He counted them off on his fingers.
"An animal, you claim." She just blinked at him. His hubris was kind of amusing.
"Come on…" He pushed off the wall and gave her a self-satisfied smirk. "I was good. You can admit it."
Crossing her arms, she stopped pacing and just stared at him. "I don't recall an animal."
He visibly winced. "You're hurting me. I'm wounded."
"How about a little deflated? Girls don't like guys with overblown egos. It's a turn off." She shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets, quite a feat as she realized they were her tight jeans. "When a girl can make a guy feel good, then she's accomplished something. You wouldn't want to deny a woman the pleasure of stroking your ego for you, would you?"
"So you're doing me a favor, then." He grinned and fell back against the wall.
"Maybe."
"Only… I'm a man of few possessions." He shrugged and spread his arms out but they were still restrained by his hands in his pockets. "I feel like maybe you need a repeat demonstration. So… that you can show me how much of an animal I can be."
"That's a manly directive… but I don't have time." Liz stepped around him to the door. "I'm working."
"I think you need an escort home. You can defend yourself, sure." Dean cleared his throat. "Maybe you let me have the pleasure of thinking that I have the ability to protect you some precious few yards between this dump and your home."
"See, now you know the rules." She bit back a smile and pulled open the door. "Don't come back inside. I get off in two hours." She held up a hand and quickly got the warning out. "Don't ruin the moment we just had by saying what I know you want to say."
"You're the boss." He didn’t even try to hide the smirk. They both knew what he had been about to say.
Later that night…
Liz laid her head on her own pillow. She had never figured Dean for a cuddler but he hugged her body to his like a pillow, his head tucked between her chin and shoulder. She swept her hand over his short hair. He shifted slightly onto his back, taking her with him. "Hey."
"Hm?"
"I'm gonna need my body back."
"Uh-uh." Dean didn't want to open his eyes.
"I have to pee."
"Nope."
"I'm coming back."
"Okay." Dean disentangled himself from around her.
Liz returned a short while later, with a long shirt covering all parts of interest and a bowl of ice cream. "Want some?"
"I didn't know you went for the food kink." He sat up, dragging his hand over his face.
"To eat, not to play with… unless you're planning on washing my sheets later."
"You're a tyrant." Taking the spoon, he tasted the ice cream and then looked around to see how the place had changed since he was 14. He had only been inside a few times before and… it was still night time. "Did you wake me up in the middle of the night?"
"Uh-huh."
"Why?"
"You have an iron-grip and I had to pee. It's not my fault you stayed awake."
Put out, he slumped back down and continued his examination. "You don't have a TV."
"Never had need for one."
"What do you do when you get bored?"
"I don't get bored. I have art classes and work and friends. I was looking into some classes at community but I don't know if I want to move to Rutherford."
"What about before?" He motioned around and wiggled his ring finger at her.
Liz shrugged with a smirk. "I had other ways of filling my time."
"So, no TV."
"Enough with the TV." She reached onto her nightstand for her book, which she slammed into his stomach. "There you go."
Dean made a face at the book. "Oprah Winfrey book club. Yeah. Right." He blew out a breath and looked her over. He opted not to comment on her attire for the moment. "So, that Billy guy…"
"Do you really want to go there?" Liz sighed heavily and turned her gaze on him. She had avoided looking directly at him since returning to bed. She didn't know how to play the game. She'd never needed to know how. She had tried to follow his lead but he was infuriating. The more she allowed herself to be around Dean, to let him touch her and make her feel all those sensations in bed… the more and more afraid of him she became. Her visions were never wrong until now. "Why did you get so bent out of shape in the first place?"
"I have seen a million guys like this Billy kid." Dean took the bowl from her. "You don't want to get mixed up with him. You're just a conquest for him. Unattainable and therefore desirable."
"And you're nothing like that." She accused lightly.
"Hey. I have some class."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. I'm still in bed. The opportune time for me to skip out was while you were peeing." Dean let that lay between them for a while. "Okay. Fine, I don't do pillow talk."
"I figured. Give me that." She took her bowl back to finish off the ice cream.
"You want me to leave?" Liz pondered that as the ice cream melted in her mouth; her eyes sliding to glance at him. "You horny little vixen."
"I didn't answer the question.""But I saw that look in your eyes." He nodded to himself with a grin. "I knew it. I still got it."
"Were you afraid you'd lost it?"
"You jumped me first."
"That was the other night. Tonight, it was all you… putting on charm, spreading around the testosterone. Making innuendos. I was just trying to have a good time turning down Billy."
"That's your idea of a good time?"
"It doesn't have to lead anywhere."
"Oh, so you've had experience messing around with a guy's hopes for a lay?"
"Maybe."
"How? You were married since birth."
"No, no. I had several opportunities to lose it before I got married and not all of them to Max. Putting a guy off and keeping him interested is a very delicate balance because the male ego is so very fragile."
"Okay. I'll buy that." Dean clasped his hands over his stomach. "So, let me ask you this… couple of months back, you came to me and reminded me that we had met before. Why?"
"It was cathartic for me."
"What's that mean?"
"It was cleansing, emotionally."
"I know what cathartic means." He rolled his eyes. "Let me rephrase. Why was it cathartic?"
"I kind of already told some of it to Sam. Kyle and I have been working on it." She set the bowl down on the night stand. "I had a vision a long time ago that you and I would be sleeping together. Scared the shit out of me." She stopped him from leaping in to defend his honor. "This was before we had met. I was married. The vision was very detailed. I didn't want it to come to pass. It still hasn't… which says to me that something changed. Something happened to prevent it from happening the way I saw it. I don't know if it's good and I don't know if it's bad. I just know that what we've been doing is not what I predicted we'd be doing. When we met that night in Racine, I rushed out of there. I was scared out of my mind because I saw you and you were lying there, laughing it up. Looking just like my…"
"What's that?" Dean sat up.
She stared at him. At the scars she knew that he had accumulated since they had met. Burns from the fire that had nearly taken Sam. Cuts from the car accident that had caused her so much grief. She laid her fingers on his arm, tracing them. "You didn't have these in my vision. Either that… day wasn't supposed to happen or we were supposed to be together before that."
"Alright. I get that I'm not a bright guy. Sammy tells me all the time but… right now… you're the one that's not making sense."
"Unless it's a ripple effect. Everything that we change affects other events and so on and so forth."
"Aw, crap. You're not going to get into that metaphysical shit right now are you? That shit takes all night to get through. I can handle getting busy til I pass out or just passing out right now."
"Then go to sleep." Liz waved him off as she rose to find a notebook.
He grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked her back onto the bed. "How about you start over? Tell me exactly what you're talking about."
TBC
Part 38 – The next day
(November 29, 2009)
Liz woke up alone in the noon day sun. Dean was gone. After the second run through of the story, his eyes had glazed over and she had given up on making him understand… mainly because she still didn't understand. She hadn't meant to get into any of it in the first place. She had wanted sex and Dean had offered. It had worked out… until she had to deal with him hanging out in her bed and eating her ice cream. Then the night had exploded.
--
Dean helped his brother down the narrow staircase to eat at the table like a normal person. Sam shook his head at his brother. "You look like shit."
"I feel like shit. Thanks for reminding me." Dean bit out.
Sam began eating with a vigor even he didn't know he had. "What's up with you?"
"Nothing, tired." Dean shook his head. He sat there, stewing until Sam finished eating. So, he took a chance on the only sounding board he had available. "How much did Liz tell you about her life? You know… before we met them all."
"Quite a bit."
"But not everything?"
"Probably not. What's up?"
"We were talking and she told me some things." He took a deep breath. "And I've been turning them over in my head ever since. I don't think I understand it. Not the way she means me to."
"Well… gravity is what makes you fall and go boom."
"Shut up. I'm being serious, Sammy. Listen to me, Dipshit. She has a theory about her visions and what started her on this… I don't know, alternative view of… I don't know. I don't get it and I need some help."
Sam stared at his brother. He looked tired. Like he hadn't gotten any sleep. "She told you about her visions? The ones she got before she met us?"
"Yeah. She told you?"
"Parts." He sat back. "What's her theory?""That what she sees is an alternative version of her life. So like… she has a vision of bliss with me but that never happens because Max died and came back and so I didn't meet her until after Dad died and she was married."
"Huh." An alternative version of this universe.
"Right! I hear it and it's just words. I don't know what they mean."
"Dean… why are you so worked up over this?"
"Because she was so…" He groaned and stood up, raking his hands over his face. "I don't know. I don't know why." He stared out the window where he could see Liz coming out of her cottage and heading to work. She didn't look upset but he had snuck out when she'd finally fallen asleep. It was a dick move. "Look. She listens when I talk. I mostly ramble and I know I don't make sense and she doesn't understand half of it. I figured I could do the same but I feel like I gotta go kill something now." He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "She comes at me with aliens and resurrections and freaky powers."
"Wow." Sam blinked at his brother. "Aliens?"
"Yeah. Aliens from… I forget where. Nathan, Gary… Amanda. All aliens." Rolling his shoulders, a series of pops and cracks made him wince. He was never this tense. "If she doesn't understand it, how am I?"
"You aren't supposed to. You listened. You asked her questions, probably. You made her think with new eyes. You listened. That's what you were supposed to do."
"Whatever."
"Did you ever wonder why she makes you talk about things?"
"No. She's nosy." Dean scoffed."No. She senses that there's something bothering you. She asks questions. You answer. You feel better. It's cathartic to talk." He rolled his eyes at his brother's blank face. "Therapeutic."
Dean rolled his eyes. His little brother was the second person in a day to subtly accuse him of being illiterate. "So, what are you saying?"
"She just wanted to talk. All those times you yelled at me for staying up, talking to her… we were making each other feel better about the things we cannot change. Everyone feels like that about something in their lives. It's universal. Aliens or demons. It doesn't matter. Our lives are not normal. As well adjusted as she is, there are still things she doesn't understand about herself." Sam sat up to look at his brother's profile. "There are things I don't get about you and you're my blood."
"Right back at you. I mean, really… opera?"
--
Liz stretched before picking up the food-laden tray for the guys who had gotten off early at the body shop. Kyle stared at her as she delivered their meals in silence. "Are you okay?"
"Didn't get much sleep last night." She shook her head and waved him off.
"You know what gives me a good night's sleep?" Billy piped up.
"The fact that both halves of your brain only do half the work one half of mine does?" Liz shrugged and moved on to her next table. When she made it back to the bar, Kyle was waiting. "What?"
"Are you okay?" He watched her wipe down the bar harshly. "Did something happen? A vision or something horrifying? You hit pretty hard with that cut on Billy."
"I'm just sleepy." She shook her head. She didn’t dare give Billy a look of apology. She had enough on her plate with the one guy; she didn’t need to add another. "Maybe I shouldn't have come in today but I can't just lounge around all day and hope my bills get paid."
"Are you okay? I mean. I keep asking the question but I keep thinking you're hiding something.” Something was different about his best friend but even he couldn’t figure out what it was. Maybe it was Thanksgiving. She hadn’t done it the year before because she had still been grieving pretty hard. “Was it the holiday? Did it hit you?"
"Kyle. I didn't sleep. That's it."
He gave her a warning look about using his real name and lowered his voice. "Yeah but why didn't you sleep?"
"Because I was theorizing on my existence and I didn't come to any decent conclusions." She blurted out more harshly than she had intended and immediately looked apologetic about it. She took a deep breath and let it out.
"Oh. Okay. I'll stop. I do enough of that myself. Scares the crap out of my lady. Now I know what she means."
Later that night…
Liz let herself into her cottage and nearly started when she felt the figure step in right behind her. "Sneaky. You're lucky I know your cologne or else I could have planted your face in the floor."
"You would do that?" Dean shut the door and leaned on it. The banter was over before it began. Neither had the energy for it. "Look… I've been thinking and turning it over in my head." Taking a deep breath did nothing to relax his tense body. "I don't know what any of it means."
"But you think it's freaky."
"Yeah but… okay, so there's like aliens and resurrected human beings running around and there are weird sexual visions, which I want details on later… My world is equally fucked is what I'm getting at. You have barely scratched the surface of that Outer Limits experience, alright? I died." When she looked like she was going to say something, he pushed off the door and stepped forward. "My dad sold his soul to the yellow-eyed demon to save my life."
The blood just fell from her face. "What?"
"That's what…" The confusion and horror on her face spoke volumes but he couldn't understand about what. He gestured to the junk yard outside her window where the original Impala sat rusting. "You didn't know?"
"No." She shook her head slowly. It all started to make some sense. The guilt that Dean carried with him and the intensely conflicted feelings he had about his father. The darkness that had accompanied her vision in the backseat of that salvaged Impala.
"Anyway, I'm alive now… So. Here we are. Dead people. Good looking but formerly dead people. I kill evil things… you know where they turn up and kill… it makes more sense to be united than not."
"Okay. Where does that leave us?"
"I don't know. It'd be a waste of good sex if we stopped meeting in dark alleys." He joked with a nervous smile. "And you know… tested the limits of your new mattress."
"What if this doesn't work?" She motioned between them. He had to be sweating because she could smell his cologne even though she'd taken a few steps back. "Sam and I are friends."
"Yeah… and you and Sam need friends." He stepped forward, matching her progress across the cottage.
"Do we charge ahead with this regardless of the consequences?"
"That's how I like to do things." He stepped forward and into her personal space once more.
"Do we tell him?"
That made him stop and think. "Well… it's none of his business, really. He'd kick my ass for even thinking about it… forget that we're already doing it."
"So, we don't tell him and what? We just see where it goes?"
"That's my vote."
"We're talking this to death." She shook her head. "Do we shake on it?"
"I think we're better off sealing this deal the old fashioned way."
"And what way is that?"
He grinned and shrugged. "Depends."
"On what?"
"How flexible you are."
Two days later…
(December 1, 2009)
Liz glared at the frost on the window and snuggled deeper into her warm bed. "South Dakota is too cold."
"Not my fault." He grumbled. His voice sounded like gravel, even to his own ears.
"You said whiskey would get us warmed up last night." She complained even as his body turned into hers to combine their heat. "Now, I'm cold."
"I suggested whiskey cause it makes you frisky and that leads to warm bodies."
"You are so…"
"Sexy? Hot, right?" He teased with a wide smile though he had yet to really open his eyes.
"Stupid. Do you think with anything other than what's between your legs?" She murmured even as she tucked her head between his shoulder and chin.
"Sometimes I get hungry and I think with my stomach."
"Right and as soon as you're fed, then it's right back to your penis."
"Are there any real complaints this morning?" He rubbed her back and let her warm breath dispel some of the cold around his exposed neck.
"Your feet are cold."
Pot. Kettle. "Your feet are colder."
"Dean…" Liz whined. "I'm cold and I don't want to be cold anymore."
Three days later…
(December 4, 2009)
Sam sat down at a table, relishing the lack of a need for a booth or an extra chair. He was slow to get around after being confined in bed for so long but he was mobile once more. Sure, he had taken advantage of Dean’s lengthy absence and conned a ride to Baxter but it had been well worth the scolding he’d gotten. He grinned at Liz. "So, catch me up in the world. Bobby doesn't get cable."
"Well, Billy has it bad for our little Lillian." Kyle answered and shot her a look. "She keeps burning him even though I know he's exactly her type."
"No, he's not. Billy showboats too much." Dean shook his head. "He'd have to tone it way down and sprout a brain."
"Wow. That's bad." Sam shook his head.
"What is?"
"We just found someone who even Dean thinks is stupid."
Liz set a beer in front of the younger Winchester. "Be nice to your brother. Maybe Dean is not what is considered traditionally intelligent but he's quick witted when it counts."
"Thank you, Lil." Dean sat up, chest puffed out in pride.
"Just because he quotes Zeppelin instead of Confucius doesn't make him stupid." Liz finished with a ruffle of Dean’s short locks.
"And she turns on me like a bulldog." Dean scoffed, patting down his hair, and finished his beer.
"I got a lead." Sammy announced. "We can head south and get out of the snow."
"Yeah…" Dean nodded as he put on his jacket, avoiding Liz’s questioning gaze. "We'll talk about it later."
"Where are you going? I just got here."
"We're not five." He scoffed. "I don't have to tell you every time I'm going to leave the bar." His eyes flicked to Liz’s for a moment before he removed himself from the group.
"Lillian, you have to tell me what this girl looks like." Sam demanded. "He's hardly been around the last week or something. I know it's a woman. Have you seen her?"
"I am not his keeper." Liz shook her head.
"Really? The town's been pretty dead." Kyle frowned and watched Dean go. “I hope he hasn’t been checking out the Quickie Mart parking lot after hours. There are some hound dogs who work the late shift.”
“Stan.” Liz barked at him.
“I’m just saying that he used to have better taste.”
--
“I know you’re hiding in the bathroom.” Liz called back when she got home from work. She was answered by the door opening and Dean leaning in the doorway. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve been drinking.” She commented as she pulled the blinds and closed the curtains.
“Yeah. I have.”
“So, I ask. Are you okay?”
“You know that I have to leave, right? It’s been cool staying in one place but Sam and I are on a mission and he’s got his cast off. He’s feeling strong.”
“And you have a demon to kill.” Liz nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. “I knew that you would have to go. It’s not a huge surprise.”
“You gonna be okay?”
She shrugged. “I won’t have you getting crumbs in my bed anymore.”
“Or confusing your ass for a pillow.”
“Right.”
Dean stepped further into the room. “Hey, I won’t have you nagging me to eat vegetables and to pick up my socks.”
“Sam will do that for me.” She nodded to herself. “Besides… you won’t be gone forever… the Impala is an old car… and your track record is poor.”
“One for the road?”
“Just one?” She snorted and motioned him closer. “That’s not like you.”
TBC
(November 29, 2009)
Liz woke up alone in the noon day sun. Dean was gone. After the second run through of the story, his eyes had glazed over and she had given up on making him understand… mainly because she still didn't understand. She hadn't meant to get into any of it in the first place. She had wanted sex and Dean had offered. It had worked out… until she had to deal with him hanging out in her bed and eating her ice cream. Then the night had exploded.
--
Dean helped his brother down the narrow staircase to eat at the table like a normal person. Sam shook his head at his brother. "You look like shit."
"I feel like shit. Thanks for reminding me." Dean bit out.
Sam began eating with a vigor even he didn't know he had. "What's up with you?"
"Nothing, tired." Dean shook his head. He sat there, stewing until Sam finished eating. So, he took a chance on the only sounding board he had available. "How much did Liz tell you about her life? You know… before we met them all."
"Quite a bit."
"But not everything?"
"Probably not. What's up?"
"We were talking and she told me some things." He took a deep breath. "And I've been turning them over in my head ever since. I don't think I understand it. Not the way she means me to."
"Well… gravity is what makes you fall and go boom."
"Shut up. I'm being serious, Sammy. Listen to me, Dipshit. She has a theory about her visions and what started her on this… I don't know, alternative view of… I don't know. I don't get it and I need some help."
Sam stared at his brother. He looked tired. Like he hadn't gotten any sleep. "She told you about her visions? The ones she got before she met us?"
"Yeah. She told you?"
"Parts." He sat back. "What's her theory?""That what she sees is an alternative version of her life. So like… she has a vision of bliss with me but that never happens because Max died and came back and so I didn't meet her until after Dad died and she was married."
"Huh." An alternative version of this universe.
"Right! I hear it and it's just words. I don't know what they mean."
"Dean… why are you so worked up over this?"
"Because she was so…" He groaned and stood up, raking his hands over his face. "I don't know. I don't know why." He stared out the window where he could see Liz coming out of her cottage and heading to work. She didn't look upset but he had snuck out when she'd finally fallen asleep. It was a dick move. "Look. She listens when I talk. I mostly ramble and I know I don't make sense and she doesn't understand half of it. I figured I could do the same but I feel like I gotta go kill something now." He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "She comes at me with aliens and resurrections and freaky powers."
"Wow." Sam blinked at his brother. "Aliens?"
"Yeah. Aliens from… I forget where. Nathan, Gary… Amanda. All aliens." Rolling his shoulders, a series of pops and cracks made him wince. He was never this tense. "If she doesn't understand it, how am I?"
"You aren't supposed to. You listened. You asked her questions, probably. You made her think with new eyes. You listened. That's what you were supposed to do."
"Whatever."
"Did you ever wonder why she makes you talk about things?"
"No. She's nosy." Dean scoffed."No. She senses that there's something bothering you. She asks questions. You answer. You feel better. It's cathartic to talk." He rolled his eyes at his brother's blank face. "Therapeutic."
Dean rolled his eyes. His little brother was the second person in a day to subtly accuse him of being illiterate. "So, what are you saying?"
"She just wanted to talk. All those times you yelled at me for staying up, talking to her… we were making each other feel better about the things we cannot change. Everyone feels like that about something in their lives. It's universal. Aliens or demons. It doesn't matter. Our lives are not normal. As well adjusted as she is, there are still things she doesn't understand about herself." Sam sat up to look at his brother's profile. "There are things I don't get about you and you're my blood."
"Right back at you. I mean, really… opera?"
--
Liz stretched before picking up the food-laden tray for the guys who had gotten off early at the body shop. Kyle stared at her as she delivered their meals in silence. "Are you okay?"
"Didn't get much sleep last night." She shook her head and waved him off.
"You know what gives me a good night's sleep?" Billy piped up.
"The fact that both halves of your brain only do half the work one half of mine does?" Liz shrugged and moved on to her next table. When she made it back to the bar, Kyle was waiting. "What?"
"Are you okay?" He watched her wipe down the bar harshly. "Did something happen? A vision or something horrifying? You hit pretty hard with that cut on Billy."
"I'm just sleepy." She shook her head. She didn’t dare give Billy a look of apology. She had enough on her plate with the one guy; she didn’t need to add another. "Maybe I shouldn't have come in today but I can't just lounge around all day and hope my bills get paid."
"Are you okay? I mean. I keep asking the question but I keep thinking you're hiding something.” Something was different about his best friend but even he couldn’t figure out what it was. Maybe it was Thanksgiving. She hadn’t done it the year before because she had still been grieving pretty hard. “Was it the holiday? Did it hit you?"
"Kyle. I didn't sleep. That's it."
He gave her a warning look about using his real name and lowered his voice. "Yeah but why didn't you sleep?"
"Because I was theorizing on my existence and I didn't come to any decent conclusions." She blurted out more harshly than she had intended and immediately looked apologetic about it. She took a deep breath and let it out.
"Oh. Okay. I'll stop. I do enough of that myself. Scares the crap out of my lady. Now I know what she means."
Later that night…
Liz let herself into her cottage and nearly started when she felt the figure step in right behind her. "Sneaky. You're lucky I know your cologne or else I could have planted your face in the floor."
"You would do that?" Dean shut the door and leaned on it. The banter was over before it began. Neither had the energy for it. "Look… I've been thinking and turning it over in my head." Taking a deep breath did nothing to relax his tense body. "I don't know what any of it means."
"But you think it's freaky."
"Yeah but… okay, so there's like aliens and resurrected human beings running around and there are weird sexual visions, which I want details on later… My world is equally fucked is what I'm getting at. You have barely scratched the surface of that Outer Limits experience, alright? I died." When she looked like she was going to say something, he pushed off the door and stepped forward. "My dad sold his soul to the yellow-eyed demon to save my life."
The blood just fell from her face. "What?"
"That's what…" The confusion and horror on her face spoke volumes but he couldn't understand about what. He gestured to the junk yard outside her window where the original Impala sat rusting. "You didn't know?"
"No." She shook her head slowly. It all started to make some sense. The guilt that Dean carried with him and the intensely conflicted feelings he had about his father. The darkness that had accompanied her vision in the backseat of that salvaged Impala.
"Anyway, I'm alive now… So. Here we are. Dead people. Good looking but formerly dead people. I kill evil things… you know where they turn up and kill… it makes more sense to be united than not."
"Okay. Where does that leave us?"
"I don't know. It'd be a waste of good sex if we stopped meeting in dark alleys." He joked with a nervous smile. "And you know… tested the limits of your new mattress."
"What if this doesn't work?" She motioned between them. He had to be sweating because she could smell his cologne even though she'd taken a few steps back. "Sam and I are friends."
"Yeah… and you and Sam need friends." He stepped forward, matching her progress across the cottage.
"Do we charge ahead with this regardless of the consequences?"
"That's how I like to do things." He stepped forward and into her personal space once more.
"Do we tell him?"
That made him stop and think. "Well… it's none of his business, really. He'd kick my ass for even thinking about it… forget that we're already doing it."
"So, we don't tell him and what? We just see where it goes?"
"That's my vote."
"We're talking this to death." She shook her head. "Do we shake on it?"
"I think we're better off sealing this deal the old fashioned way."
"And what way is that?"
He grinned and shrugged. "Depends."
"On what?"
"How flexible you are."
Two days later…
(December 1, 2009)
Liz glared at the frost on the window and snuggled deeper into her warm bed. "South Dakota is too cold."
"Not my fault." He grumbled. His voice sounded like gravel, even to his own ears.
"You said whiskey would get us warmed up last night." She complained even as his body turned into hers to combine their heat. "Now, I'm cold."
"I suggested whiskey cause it makes you frisky and that leads to warm bodies."
"You are so…"
"Sexy? Hot, right?" He teased with a wide smile though he had yet to really open his eyes.
"Stupid. Do you think with anything other than what's between your legs?" She murmured even as she tucked her head between his shoulder and chin.
"Sometimes I get hungry and I think with my stomach."
"Right and as soon as you're fed, then it's right back to your penis."
"Are there any real complaints this morning?" He rubbed her back and let her warm breath dispel some of the cold around his exposed neck.
"Your feet are cold."
Pot. Kettle. "Your feet are colder."
"Dean…" Liz whined. "I'm cold and I don't want to be cold anymore."
Three days later…
(December 4, 2009)
Sam sat down at a table, relishing the lack of a need for a booth or an extra chair. He was slow to get around after being confined in bed for so long but he was mobile once more. Sure, he had taken advantage of Dean’s lengthy absence and conned a ride to Baxter but it had been well worth the scolding he’d gotten. He grinned at Liz. "So, catch me up in the world. Bobby doesn't get cable."
"Well, Billy has it bad for our little Lillian." Kyle answered and shot her a look. "She keeps burning him even though I know he's exactly her type."
"No, he's not. Billy showboats too much." Dean shook his head. "He'd have to tone it way down and sprout a brain."
"Wow. That's bad." Sam shook his head.
"What is?"
"We just found someone who even Dean thinks is stupid."
Liz set a beer in front of the younger Winchester. "Be nice to your brother. Maybe Dean is not what is considered traditionally intelligent but he's quick witted when it counts."
"Thank you, Lil." Dean sat up, chest puffed out in pride.
"Just because he quotes Zeppelin instead of Confucius doesn't make him stupid." Liz finished with a ruffle of Dean’s short locks.
"And she turns on me like a bulldog." Dean scoffed, patting down his hair, and finished his beer.
"I got a lead." Sammy announced. "We can head south and get out of the snow."
"Yeah…" Dean nodded as he put on his jacket, avoiding Liz’s questioning gaze. "We'll talk about it later."
"Where are you going? I just got here."
"We're not five." He scoffed. "I don't have to tell you every time I'm going to leave the bar." His eyes flicked to Liz’s for a moment before he removed himself from the group.
"Lillian, you have to tell me what this girl looks like." Sam demanded. "He's hardly been around the last week or something. I know it's a woman. Have you seen her?"
"I am not his keeper." Liz shook her head.
"Really? The town's been pretty dead." Kyle frowned and watched Dean go. “I hope he hasn’t been checking out the Quickie Mart parking lot after hours. There are some hound dogs who work the late shift.”
“Stan.” Liz barked at him.
“I’m just saying that he used to have better taste.”
--
“I know you’re hiding in the bathroom.” Liz called back when she got home from work. She was answered by the door opening and Dean leaning in the doorway. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve been drinking.” She commented as she pulled the blinds and closed the curtains.
“Yeah. I have.”
“So, I ask. Are you okay?”
“You know that I have to leave, right? It’s been cool staying in one place but Sam and I are on a mission and he’s got his cast off. He’s feeling strong.”
“And you have a demon to kill.” Liz nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. “I knew that you would have to go. It’s not a huge surprise.”
“You gonna be okay?”
She shrugged. “I won’t have you getting crumbs in my bed anymore.”
“Or confusing your ass for a pillow.”
“Right.”
Dean stepped further into the room. “Hey, I won’t have you nagging me to eat vegetables and to pick up my socks.”
“Sam will do that for me.” She nodded to herself. “Besides… you won’t be gone forever… the Impala is an old car… and your track record is poor.”
“One for the road?”
“Just one?” She snorted and motioned him closer. “That’s not like you.”
TBC
Part 39 – a few months later
(January 22, 2010)
Liz leaned on Isabel as they watched Maria and Michael dance. They were both dressed in hideous purple gowns but Maria had insisted. Liz had her hand resting on the small bump that took up Isabel’s middle. She was jealous as hell but Isabel’s husband made a lot of money, she could afford to be a stay-at-home mom. Not that Isabel was one to let that stop her from pursuing her own interests. Her son was with his father across the hall. “She’s kicking a lot.”
“I know. I have to pee again.” Isabel excused herself and needed help to get to her feet.
Her mother sent wan smiles her way. They just made Liz sad. She was okay with her life but everyone figured she must be so sad and lonely. Taking out her phone, she dialed quickly. “Hey guys, just calling to wish Dean a happy birthday. Don’t kill anything Monday unless it’s like the yellow-eyed demon or something. If you must kill, it had better be worth the misery on a special day. Take care, both of you.”
“Much better.” Isabel returned. “So, how many horrible visions have you had?”
“Not many. They seem to have died down some.” Liz shrugged.
“You know, I miss the visions. I think Jesse would let me out of the house if I had to go save someone’s life.”
“You’re gonna go chasing down a bad guy carrying that watermelon-to-be?” Liz gestured to the unborn girl in Isabel’s belly.
“Ew… or bussing tables of drunks.” Isabel wrinkled up her face. “So, you’re really gonna stick it out up there?”
“It’s my home now. I don’t know what Kyle’s gonna do but… I like Valor Springs. Marty needs looking after. He’s giving me more responsibility and a slight pay raise to go with it.” She shrugged. “I know it’s not microbiology but I like the bar. I like the regulars.”
“Save it for your mother.” Isabel waved her off. “After what we’ve all been through, I don’t care what you do with your life so long as you’re happy.”
“Thank you, Isabel.”
“My brother would have wanted nothing but your happiness.” Isabel sniffed suddenly and began searching for a tissue. “Damn it. I can’t even think of Max without the waterworks starting. Stupid hormones.”
“You look beautiful.” Liz reassured her sadly. “He probably knew for certain this day was coming. I never really thought he’d do it.” She pointed to the dance floor where Michael had just stepped on Maria’s foot again. He looked miserable but Maria’s smile never faded.
“Eh.” The blonde shrugged. “He loves her but he’s a little slow when it comes to the heart.” She studied the brunette. “You look better than the last time I saw you. Someone special enter the picture?” She dabbed at her eyes a bit but Liz was unwavering. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“I’m not ready for anything serious.”
“I know you might think it’s too soon but know that I’m not going to be upset if you start seeing someone… unless he’s a jerk.”
“Okay.” Liz nodded, feeling guilty for not earning the words from her (former) sister-in-law. “Just don’t tell my mother that I’m not really looking. Kyle’s been trying to set me up with this jerk from the garage but… While he is adorable, he’s just…”
“Not Max?”
Liz blinked at Isabel. She had never once compared Billy to Max. She had not considered Billy at all. He had been a fleeting thought of sexual frustration but never been more than that in Liz’s mind. “Maybe.”
“Promise me that you won’t play the martyr. You’re young and beautiful. Date. Try on some guys for size. Just be careful. There are a lot of jerks out there.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. I know some moves that will plant a jerk in the dirt.”
Isabel laughed. “You’re taking self-defense?”
“I had a few lessons before Thanksgiving.”
“Just a few?”
“Dean was bored and I didn’t want to spend the money to learn the same thing. I just had to make him a couple of sandwiches to settle up.”
“They still run through?” Isabel blinked at her. “The way I saw him last… Well… I don’t know him that well but I couldn’t bear to face the wife of a man I let die.”
“I didn’t ever really blame him, Isabel. It was convenient for a while but they are good guys and they tried their hardest. Maybe if I had told them they would be fighting aliens. Maybe if Max hadn’t turned off his phone. Maybe if Michael had told Max to tell me about the visions I blocked out. Maybe.”
“Never sell yourself short, Liz.” Isabel proclaimed. “I love your heart and your soul too much. I had better…. Never find out you settled.” She wiped at her nose and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m a hormonal pregnant woman. I’m telling Jesse this is the last time.”
Liz handed Isabel another tissue. “I promise you that I won’t settle for anything less than I deserve.”
“Good. After all the crap we put you through, you deserve to be just as happy as Max made you.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever have that again but I will make sure what I have is real.”
“Good.”
“Liz! Honey!” Diane made her way through the tables to them. “You look so beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Liz nodded sadly.
“Are you staying long?
“I’m thinking about it but I need to get back. I left my boss alone with a bunch of children to tend to. The doctor says he needs to take it easy.” She nodded to Diane’s confused expression. “He nearly herniated a disc before Thanksgiving but he insists that he’s fine and doesn’t need help. I’m the only long-timer there. The other staff are barely over 21 and they just don’t care about him the way I do.”
“I’m sure he appreciates you taking care of him.”
“Not as much as he appreciates Dr. Meyer’s house calls.” Liz shot Isabel a look.
“Really? Marty?” The blonde laughed. “I can’t believe it. He has everyone thinking he’s got a heart of stone. I know Valor Springs doesn’t have a hospital so where…”
“From two towns over. They flirt like fiends and think no one has them figured out. She rushed over when he got hurt. Then when she came for Thanksgiving, two days later, she’d had her hair done, her hands manicured and her makeup perfect. She and Marty ate alone upstairs while the rest of us had our meal with the stragglers.”
“Is this… place… rough?” Diane asked softly.
“I guess so.” Liz’s smile faded. “There are always guys who flirt but Kyle always walks me home when I work late. When it’s slow, Marty watches me. Bobby’s is just down the street. Max and I used to make the walk together.” She rolled her eyes suddenly. “You will never guess what Bobby did?”
“What?” Isabel grinned and leaned on her elbow to hear the story.
“Marty was still confined to bed and the guys were having fun and that guy Kyle wants me to date was coming on too strong. I told him no and then Bobby told him to let up, then he assigns Dean to protect my virtue. Dean went so completely overboard. He almost started a brawl over some innocent flirting. I could have killed Bobby for giving Dean the idea.”
“That must have been hilarious.” Isabel giggles. “So they were there for the holidays.”
“Until the fifth or six… They only stayed so long to fix the car, again, and to let Sam’s leg set completely.”
“He broke it again? Or did he break the other one?”
“Yes. The same leg in almost the same place.” Liz sighed heavily. “And who do they call? Me. So, I can worry even though they never listen to me. The doctor told them two months would be better than the usual cast-time due to the fact it was the second break on the same leg in a year.”
“Sam and Dean. I think I heard your mother say something about them.” Diane broke in. “Are you seeing… one of them?”
“Oh, God, no. Mom. Please.” Isabel scoffed at her mother. “Liz is way out of Dean’s league and he’s tried to hit on her, believe me. Sam and Liz are good friends, though. He’s a sweet guy.”
“I’m so glad that you have some support up there, Liz.”
“No, Mom. No support from them. They travel a lot. They only stop in to fix their car and go.”
“What sort of work do they do?” Diane pressed.
Liz looked at Isabel, who subtly shook her head. “Private Investigation and Protection. Freelance so they’re always on the move looking for more work. It’s a family business.”
“How interesting.”
The Next day…
(January 23, 2010)
Sam groaned as he set himself down in the car. The last two days had been hell. Dean had been very focused and the booze was nowhere in sight. All good things but Dean had nearly balked when it came to decapitate the demon. The car shook when Dean slammed the trunk shut and limped around to climb into the driver’s seat. “How’s the arm?”
“Fine.” Dean bit out.
“The leg?”
“Peachy.”
“You need to go rest?”“We need to pick up our shit and hit the road.” Dean groaned as he put the car in gear. He glanced at his brother. “How’s your leg?”
“My leg is fine. You’re the one that nearly got squashed by a big burly demon.” He pointed out. He fished his phone out of the glove compartment, unpleased to find it had a few broken and melted M&M’s stuck to it. “This is gross, dude.”
“Dude, I’m not giving a fuck right now.” Dean set them on the road back to the hotel room.
“It’s gross.” Sam repeated and rolled down the window to flick pieces of candy off his phone. He ended up using his shirt to wipe it off so he could check his messages. Then he had to smile. “Liz says you’re not allowed to hunt tomorrow.”
“Why the fuck not?” Dean groaned and hit the brake a little too hard in front of their room.
“Cause it’s your birthday.”
“It is?” Dean lifted a hand to tick off the days. “Hey, I guess it is. How ‘bout that?”
“You go grab the stuff. I’ll get the front desk squared away.” Sam was already out the door before Dean could protest. He dialed quickly before Sam could change his mind. He got voice mail.
“Hey… Liz… Got your message. Thanks. Um… I had kind of forgotten it was coming up… so… yeah. Thanks.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. Dean hit the end button and got out of the car. “Come on, Dean. Get it together.” He cursed to himself under his breath while he tossed things back in his bag, not caring if they were clean or dirty. He ripped notes off the walls and tossed them on top of Sam’s laptop. He was just tossing his bag in the back seat when Sam returned to get his things together. “Hurry it up, Sammy.”
“Yeah, like I’m the geezer.”
“Punk.”
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.” Dean was about to add to the game when his phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hey, Dean. You okay?”
“Yeah.” Dean cleared his throat and had to center himself a bit. “Just came off a hunt. Got your message.”
“Yeah, I got yours. I’m at my parents’. I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I love them but I don’t fit here anymore.”
“You need a ride back?”
“No, I’ve got it covered. Kyle and I are heading back tomorrow.”
“Take care.”
“Yeah, you, too. Sleep tomorrow or something. Don’t kill on your birthday.”
“Okay.”
“Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“Nothing. Bye.”
“See you later.” Dean closed his phone and took a seat in the car. Sam was taking forever. “Get the lead out!”
“You could help. Most of this mess is yours.”
“That’s what housekeeping is for.”
“Whatever, man,” Sam muttered as he managed to get all his things in one load to the car, his dirty clothes carefully separated from the clean ones. “Where we headed next?”
“We can make the Grand Canyon by dawn.” Dean suggested.
“Something brewing down there?”
“Not a hunt. You ever seen the Grand Canyon?”
“No.”
“Then, let’s go.”
TBC
(January 22, 2010)
Liz leaned on Isabel as they watched Maria and Michael dance. They were both dressed in hideous purple gowns but Maria had insisted. Liz had her hand resting on the small bump that took up Isabel’s middle. She was jealous as hell but Isabel’s husband made a lot of money, she could afford to be a stay-at-home mom. Not that Isabel was one to let that stop her from pursuing her own interests. Her son was with his father across the hall. “She’s kicking a lot.”
“I know. I have to pee again.” Isabel excused herself and needed help to get to her feet.
Her mother sent wan smiles her way. They just made Liz sad. She was okay with her life but everyone figured she must be so sad and lonely. Taking out her phone, she dialed quickly. “Hey guys, just calling to wish Dean a happy birthday. Don’t kill anything Monday unless it’s like the yellow-eyed demon or something. If you must kill, it had better be worth the misery on a special day. Take care, both of you.”
“Much better.” Isabel returned. “So, how many horrible visions have you had?”
“Not many. They seem to have died down some.” Liz shrugged.
“You know, I miss the visions. I think Jesse would let me out of the house if I had to go save someone’s life.”
“You’re gonna go chasing down a bad guy carrying that watermelon-to-be?” Liz gestured to the unborn girl in Isabel’s belly.
“Ew… or bussing tables of drunks.” Isabel wrinkled up her face. “So, you’re really gonna stick it out up there?”
“It’s my home now. I don’t know what Kyle’s gonna do but… I like Valor Springs. Marty needs looking after. He’s giving me more responsibility and a slight pay raise to go with it.” She shrugged. “I know it’s not microbiology but I like the bar. I like the regulars.”
“Save it for your mother.” Isabel waved her off. “After what we’ve all been through, I don’t care what you do with your life so long as you’re happy.”
“Thank you, Isabel.”
“My brother would have wanted nothing but your happiness.” Isabel sniffed suddenly and began searching for a tissue. “Damn it. I can’t even think of Max without the waterworks starting. Stupid hormones.”
“You look beautiful.” Liz reassured her sadly. “He probably knew for certain this day was coming. I never really thought he’d do it.” She pointed to the dance floor where Michael had just stepped on Maria’s foot again. He looked miserable but Maria’s smile never faded.
“Eh.” The blonde shrugged. “He loves her but he’s a little slow when it comes to the heart.” She studied the brunette. “You look better than the last time I saw you. Someone special enter the picture?” She dabbed at her eyes a bit but Liz was unwavering. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“I’m not ready for anything serious.”
“I know you might think it’s too soon but know that I’m not going to be upset if you start seeing someone… unless he’s a jerk.”
“Okay.” Liz nodded, feeling guilty for not earning the words from her (former) sister-in-law. “Just don’t tell my mother that I’m not really looking. Kyle’s been trying to set me up with this jerk from the garage but… While he is adorable, he’s just…”
“Not Max?”
Liz blinked at Isabel. She had never once compared Billy to Max. She had not considered Billy at all. He had been a fleeting thought of sexual frustration but never been more than that in Liz’s mind. “Maybe.”
“Promise me that you won’t play the martyr. You’re young and beautiful. Date. Try on some guys for size. Just be careful. There are a lot of jerks out there.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. I know some moves that will plant a jerk in the dirt.”
Isabel laughed. “You’re taking self-defense?”
“I had a few lessons before Thanksgiving.”
“Just a few?”
“Dean was bored and I didn’t want to spend the money to learn the same thing. I just had to make him a couple of sandwiches to settle up.”
“They still run through?” Isabel blinked at her. “The way I saw him last… Well… I don’t know him that well but I couldn’t bear to face the wife of a man I let die.”
“I didn’t ever really blame him, Isabel. It was convenient for a while but they are good guys and they tried their hardest. Maybe if I had told them they would be fighting aliens. Maybe if Max hadn’t turned off his phone. Maybe if Michael had told Max to tell me about the visions I blocked out. Maybe.”
“Never sell yourself short, Liz.” Isabel proclaimed. “I love your heart and your soul too much. I had better…. Never find out you settled.” She wiped at her nose and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m a hormonal pregnant woman. I’m telling Jesse this is the last time.”
Liz handed Isabel another tissue. “I promise you that I won’t settle for anything less than I deserve.”
“Good. After all the crap we put you through, you deserve to be just as happy as Max made you.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever have that again but I will make sure what I have is real.”
“Good.”
“Liz! Honey!” Diane made her way through the tables to them. “You look so beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Liz nodded sadly.
“Are you staying long?
“I’m thinking about it but I need to get back. I left my boss alone with a bunch of children to tend to. The doctor says he needs to take it easy.” She nodded to Diane’s confused expression. “He nearly herniated a disc before Thanksgiving but he insists that he’s fine and doesn’t need help. I’m the only long-timer there. The other staff are barely over 21 and they just don’t care about him the way I do.”
“I’m sure he appreciates you taking care of him.”
“Not as much as he appreciates Dr. Meyer’s house calls.” Liz shot Isabel a look.
“Really? Marty?” The blonde laughed. “I can’t believe it. He has everyone thinking he’s got a heart of stone. I know Valor Springs doesn’t have a hospital so where…”
“From two towns over. They flirt like fiends and think no one has them figured out. She rushed over when he got hurt. Then when she came for Thanksgiving, two days later, she’d had her hair done, her hands manicured and her makeup perfect. She and Marty ate alone upstairs while the rest of us had our meal with the stragglers.”
“Is this… place… rough?” Diane asked softly.
“I guess so.” Liz’s smile faded. “There are always guys who flirt but Kyle always walks me home when I work late. When it’s slow, Marty watches me. Bobby’s is just down the street. Max and I used to make the walk together.” She rolled her eyes suddenly. “You will never guess what Bobby did?”
“What?” Isabel grinned and leaned on her elbow to hear the story.
“Marty was still confined to bed and the guys were having fun and that guy Kyle wants me to date was coming on too strong. I told him no and then Bobby told him to let up, then he assigns Dean to protect my virtue. Dean went so completely overboard. He almost started a brawl over some innocent flirting. I could have killed Bobby for giving Dean the idea.”
“That must have been hilarious.” Isabel giggles. “So they were there for the holidays.”
“Until the fifth or six… They only stayed so long to fix the car, again, and to let Sam’s leg set completely.”
“He broke it again? Or did he break the other one?”
“Yes. The same leg in almost the same place.” Liz sighed heavily. “And who do they call? Me. So, I can worry even though they never listen to me. The doctor told them two months would be better than the usual cast-time due to the fact it was the second break on the same leg in a year.”
“Sam and Dean. I think I heard your mother say something about them.” Diane broke in. “Are you seeing… one of them?”
“Oh, God, no. Mom. Please.” Isabel scoffed at her mother. “Liz is way out of Dean’s league and he’s tried to hit on her, believe me. Sam and Liz are good friends, though. He’s a sweet guy.”
“I’m so glad that you have some support up there, Liz.”
“No, Mom. No support from them. They travel a lot. They only stop in to fix their car and go.”
“What sort of work do they do?” Diane pressed.
Liz looked at Isabel, who subtly shook her head. “Private Investigation and Protection. Freelance so they’re always on the move looking for more work. It’s a family business.”
“How interesting.”
The Next day…
(January 23, 2010)
Sam groaned as he set himself down in the car. The last two days had been hell. Dean had been very focused and the booze was nowhere in sight. All good things but Dean had nearly balked when it came to decapitate the demon. The car shook when Dean slammed the trunk shut and limped around to climb into the driver’s seat. “How’s the arm?”
“Fine.” Dean bit out.
“The leg?”
“Peachy.”
“You need to go rest?”“We need to pick up our shit and hit the road.” Dean groaned as he put the car in gear. He glanced at his brother. “How’s your leg?”
“My leg is fine. You’re the one that nearly got squashed by a big burly demon.” He pointed out. He fished his phone out of the glove compartment, unpleased to find it had a few broken and melted M&M’s stuck to it. “This is gross, dude.”
“Dude, I’m not giving a fuck right now.” Dean set them on the road back to the hotel room.
“It’s gross.” Sam repeated and rolled down the window to flick pieces of candy off his phone. He ended up using his shirt to wipe it off so he could check his messages. Then he had to smile. “Liz says you’re not allowed to hunt tomorrow.”
“Why the fuck not?” Dean groaned and hit the brake a little too hard in front of their room.
“Cause it’s your birthday.”
“It is?” Dean lifted a hand to tick off the days. “Hey, I guess it is. How ‘bout that?”
“You go grab the stuff. I’ll get the front desk squared away.” Sam was already out the door before Dean could protest. He dialed quickly before Sam could change his mind. He got voice mail.
“Hey… Liz… Got your message. Thanks. Um… I had kind of forgotten it was coming up… so… yeah. Thanks.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. Dean hit the end button and got out of the car. “Come on, Dean. Get it together.” He cursed to himself under his breath while he tossed things back in his bag, not caring if they were clean or dirty. He ripped notes off the walls and tossed them on top of Sam’s laptop. He was just tossing his bag in the back seat when Sam returned to get his things together. “Hurry it up, Sammy.”
“Yeah, like I’m the geezer.”
“Punk.”
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.” Dean was about to add to the game when his phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hey, Dean. You okay?”
“Yeah.” Dean cleared his throat and had to center himself a bit. “Just came off a hunt. Got your message.”
“Yeah, I got yours. I’m at my parents’. I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I love them but I don’t fit here anymore.”
“You need a ride back?”
“No, I’ve got it covered. Kyle and I are heading back tomorrow.”
“Take care.”
“Yeah, you, too. Sleep tomorrow or something. Don’t kill on your birthday.”
“Okay.”
“Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“Nothing. Bye.”
“See you later.” Dean closed his phone and took a seat in the car. Sam was taking forever. “Get the lead out!”
“You could help. Most of this mess is yours.”
“That’s what housekeeping is for.”
“Whatever, man,” Sam muttered as he managed to get all his things in one load to the car, his dirty clothes carefully separated from the clean ones. “Where we headed next?”
“We can make the Grand Canyon by dawn.” Dean suggested.
“Something brewing down there?”
“Not a hunt. You ever seen the Grand Canyon?”
“No.”
“Then, let’s go.”
TBC