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Post by Deleted on Dec 6, 2013 15:04:37 GMT -5
Walkin' down this rocky road Wondering where my life is leadin' Rollin' on to the bitter end Sam scoffed at his half-empty mug, brushing his hair back so it stopped getting into it. He could have just lifted his head, but people kept talking to him when he looked around, and he wasn't in the mood. Maybe in two or three more drinks. The point of drinking tonight was to shake off the gloom that hung over him. Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his face. 'You alright, buddy?' the bartender asked. Sam lifted his head enough to see him and mumbled, "Yeah. Rough week." Rough week indeed. Lucifer was free and had been sharing his body for months. Dean had betrayed Sam, had let Lucifer in. Whether he'd known who it really was or not, to let any angel inside Sam without his permission was the biggest betrayal Dean had ever made. Sam couldn't even look at him, couldn't stay in the bunker one more minute. He'd left that day, taken one of the least-flashy cars in the bunker, and driven aimlessly. He'd ended up in St. Louis before he'd decided on a plan. He'd go to Chicago and confront the white-eyed demon that had pulled Dean out of Hell. Belial. He'd kill him if he could, but the only way they'd found to kill White Eyes was to use Sam's 'abilities', and without a lick of demon blood in half a decade, Sam was nowhere near powerful enough to do that. But he had a plan to trap him. That was, if he could find him. He'd been in town for days just trying to track down the son of a bitch. He'd killed two demons already trying to get information, but he was a long way from seeing the demon face to face. He stewed over this as he finished his fourth mug of beer, the alcohol dulling his frustration. Finally, he lifted his head and looked around. It didn't take long to see her, sitting two empty stools down. In a dive bar in a less-than-favorable neighborhood of Chicago's factory sector, there wasn't much that caught the eye, but she did. She wasn't showy, in just a tanktop and skirt, but what she was showing was plenty for Sam to admire. Her black hair with sharp bangs had his attention. He usually went for girl-next door types, and he couldn't tell what she was. Other than beautiful. Maybe drinking wasn't the thing to make him feel better...Maybe she was. Sam stood and stepped across the space between them, gesturing to the stool beside her. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked with a smile. "Why have two people sitting alone when we can sit together? I'm Sam. Can I get you a drink?"
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Post by Deleted on Dec 6, 2013 17:30:59 GMT -5
I've been really tryin, baby
And if you feel, like I feel baby, Come on, oh come on,
Let's get it on
In all of her life, Betsy had never been as terrified, excited, nervous, anxious, and full of adrenaline as she had been in the last week.
That day when her book club had been interrupted by sirens and alarms her life was turned upside down. She couldn’t tell yet if it was just starting or she was about to reach a very climactic ending but either day Betsy had experienced more in the last week than in the last 30 years. Sariel, the angel that had set off the alarms, was on a mission. And when she’d said that two angels had already almost found Betsy, well, that was all she needed to hear to agree to a heavenly body guard. So she’d packed a bag and taken off with the angel. It still made her nervous to see that brilliant glow coming from her anytime she’d look at her. That’s what had sent her into the bar.
Sariel didn’t need sleep. She didn’t have to eat, go to the bathroom, showers were just for everyone else’s convenience because it seemed like even her sweat was blessed by God. For an entire week Betsy, a woman that had been alone for almost 50 years, spent every minute with another person. She was losing her mind. Even when in the bathroom for too long the angel would check in on her. It was sweet, it really was. It reminded her of her Mother and truthfully she missed being cared for and about. But she needed some time. She was near a meltdown when she finally convinced the angel to let her get away for just a little while. The bar was across the street from the motel they were in for the night and if there was any sign of angel anywhere nearby Betsy could alert her easily through prayer. Nephilim perks.
When she perched on the bar stool her exhaustion hit her. The bartender asked for her order and, in her inexperience, told him to give her whatever he could that would make her forget about the last week. What he delivered her was something called a Whiskey Sour and while it burned her insides going down, the warmth it made her feel afterwards made it all okay. The more she drank it the more her tastebuds began to die. And she was on her second one when she sensed a body beside her. Betsy looked over in time to see an absolutely massive man settling in beside her. She bit her lip and smiled a little, nodding when he asked if he could sit beside her. How she’d missed him coming in, she didn’t know. But his strong jaw and the way his eyes seemed to smile at her twisted her insides. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in a really really long time.
"Why have two people sitting alone when we can sit together? I'm Sam.
She gave a smile back in return, “thanks, I’m Betsy. And you’re right, isn’t it something like the definition of alcoholic is drinking alone? The company might help me feel a little less sinister,” she said, trying her best to tease and flirt. That’s how it worked, right? She was in a book club, they read horrible trashy novels sometimes and the flirting was always over the top. Was it obvious all her tips came from wavy-haired damsels flirting and swooning over a Fabio? He offered to buy her a drink and she finished off what she had left in her half-empty glass and nodded, “Sure, another of whatever those are. Whiskey sour or something like that?” She gave a quick glance around the rest of the company in the bar, deciding that he was probably her safest bet at company. Her drink was delivered and she slipped the tiny straw into the corner of her mouth, taking a sip before she crossed her legs and addressed him again, “So, Sam, are you from around here? I’m new, myself. First time in Chicago. First time outside of Nebraska, actually..” Betsy gave a soft giggle at her naivety as she set the glass back down. Yeah, those drinks were feelin’ good.
- Tag: Sam/Kath - 701 Words
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Post by Deleted on Dec 7, 2013 21:22:34 GMT -5
“Thanks, I’m Betsy. And you’re right, isn’t it something like, 'the definition of alcoholic is drinking alone'? The company might help me feel a little less sinister."
Sam laughed easily as he settled onto the stool beside her. She couldn't know, and he certainly wouldn't be letting her know, his firsthand experience as a drunk. He'd actually caught a few AA meetings after he'd stopped drinking. It had helped. He'd never told Dean that, but then, once Dean was back there was no reason to drink anymore. And by then, he'd started drinking something else: demon blood.
Sam eyed her as she finished off her drink. She was tiny. He briefly wondered if he should make sure she was eighteen or something, before realizing that she was drinking and the bartender had done his work for him. Drunk Sam was not Sam at his sharpest. She was small, though. Visions of her body dwarfed by his atop his motel bed, skin on skin, flashed through his mind and he didn't push them away.
“So, Sam, are you from around here? I’m new, myself. First time in Chicago. First time outside of Nebraska, actually..”
"Nebraska, huh? Where at?" Sam knew the state well, but then, Sam had grown up on the highways of the Midwest, and there wasn't a single state in the continental U.S. he hadn't visited at least once. "I spent a summer in Lincoln as a kid. I've been back a few times." Amy Pond had lived in Lincoln, and that was one memory Sam didn't want to relive right now. Stuffing it to the back of his mind where all the stuff he didn't want to think about went, he leaned closer to Betsy. "What brought you all the way to Chicago?"
When their drinks were delivered, Sam let his be. He didn't want to get too drunk; he was starting to hope this might be a night to remember. Close enough to smell her perfume, Sam offered up a dimpled smile. "Well is anyone showing you the town? Because this crappy bar is not what you should be seeing. Have you seen The Field Museum? Navy Pier? Oh, man, there's this pizza place above a barber's shop, it doesn't even have a name, but it's the best Chicago pizza you've ever had." Shoving his hair off his forehead, he grinned down at Betsy. "Hey, let me take you there."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 8, 2013 15:45:44 GMT -5
I've been really tryin, baby
And if you feel, like I feel baby, Come on, oh come on,
Let's get it on
It was funny how something so foreign to her (being hit on in a bar) seemed to natural and normal. Betsy’s life had never been normal. She sprouted wings when she was 14 and had been in her 20’s for seventy years. Normal was not a thing she was familiar with. Maybe that was why when Sam leaned closer to her she responded in kind. She’d chalk that up to the way her insides twisted at his dimples too. Normalcy or alcohol, one or the other had to be the culprit. And she was perfectly okay with that. Which was most definitely the alcohol. The thought had never occurred to her but perhaps liquor could deafen her abilities to sense the supernatural. He could very well be a demon or an angel if that was the case. But if she was taken out from a sexy sexy angel or demon that would be one hell of a way to go out. Hopefully he’d let her peek at his abs before killing her.
He asked where she was from in Nebraska and she easily dodged, the question, “Oh it’s out in the middle of nowhere.” It was a question she was often asked and she couldn’t say she’d ever given anyone a straight answer. But no matter her caution it hadn’t stopped an angel from finding her. Luckily it seemed to be one with her head screwed on right. The conversation progressed naturally to what her business was in Chicago and she actually hesitated at that one. Luckily their drinks were delivered and it made the lull seem a bit more natural. Finally she responded, “Travelling with a friend. Looking for one of her old boyfriends or something.” She shrugged and took a sip, blue eyes on his green ones over the rim of the glass.
"Well is anyone showing you the town? Because this crappy bar is not what you should be seeing.”
As he went on Betsy couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. If she finished that drink too quickly she’d tell him exactly what she wanted to see in Chicago and it didn’t have anything to do with architecture and food. She even laughed out loud when he mentioned the unnamed pizza place over the barber shop. She was surprised he knew about it because from the look of his hair he hadn’t been to a barber in years. When he finished she could almost feel his breath on her skin they were so close. She smiled a little when he offered and hesitated, “I don’t know, my friend is waiting at the motel….” Betsy bit her lip as her eyes moved from his face to his chin, from there to the way his neck pulsed and then his broad shoulders and obviously firm form beneath his clothes and soon she felt herself nodding, “Sure, Sam, Why don’t you show me the best of Chicago.”
Betsy picked up her purse and put some cash on the bar to close her tab and when he’d done the same he followed him out of the bar, looking up and down the street, “Which car is yours,” she followed him as he led her to it and spoke as he opened the door for her, “Don’t worry about my friend, I’m a grown up. If I want to get pizza with a tall dark stranger then dammit, I’m going to get pizza.” She smirked at him, a whole new resolve about her evening slowly taking over.
- Tag: Sam/Kath - 701 Words
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2013 22:00:11 GMT -5
The next couple of hours passed all too quickly, as Sam found himself genuinely enjoying his night with Betsy. He'd had just enough to drink to get a buzz but not so much to be wasted. Sam held his liquor well, being as big as he was. He rivalled Dean, who was smaller but who'd had enough alcohol in his lifetime to make his tolerance for the stuff sky high. Their first stop was pizza, at which point Sam convinced her that she couldn't be in Chicago another day without seeing Navy Pier, so to Navy Pier they went. It was nearly midnight by that point and the pier was closed, but in a stroke of boldness, Sam snuck her past the gate and showed her around anyway. They dodged security twice and without realizing it, Sam was making it all too clear how good at skirting the law he really was.
Soon they were in his car heading back to the side of town they'd started on. Sam's mind whirled as they drove and talked and laughed. He didn't want her to go. In fact, he wanted to get closer. There was more of her to see, and he wasn't just thinking of her hobbies and talents. As they neared the neighborhood which would bring them to both her motel and his, Sam let the conversation about places Betsy'd like to see die down and then boldly spoke up. "If you don't want to face your friend yet, you could always come back to my motel," he offered, but as he looked over at her it was clear he wasn't just being polite. There were traces of hungry lust in his visage, and he didn't try to hide it. Feeling emboldened by the alcohol left in his system, he took a hand off the wheel and slid it onto her thigh, to a height that, while not vulgar, made his intentions clear.
Always a gentleman (well, at least when he had his soul accounted for -- he'd done a few things with a few women that would have made Sam-with-a-soul cringe) -- always a gentleman, he waited for her okay before changing course for his motel, The Crazy Horse Inn & Suites. It was Native American themed and more than a little bit racist, but Sam had stayed at worse in his time. Mostly in the South.
With the car in a spot in front of his room, Sam turned the key and the engine went quiet. It seemed remarkably quiet in the absence of the mechanical purring. Rather than get out, Sam leaned over and placed his lips on the warm skin just below and behind her ear, one large hand brushing her hair away like a soft black curtain. He kissed his way down to her shoulder before lifting his head to meet her eyes. He thought briefly that he probably smelled like pizza, but she smelled great -- traces of whatever perfume she'd put on, or maybe just shampoo. He didn't let it distract him for long, but ducked his head to meet her lips with his, leaning closer, closing her on on the soft leather seat. With the motel room just yards away, Sam didn't want to move another inch until he'd had some more of this dark-haired stranger.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 13, 2013 12:36:33 GMT -5
I've been really tryin, baby
And if you feel, like I feel baby, Come on, oh come on,Let's get it on
It was ridiculous how easy things seemed to be with Sam. She’d met him less than an hour before she felt comfortable enough with him to break the law. It helped that she’d been drinking but Betsy was certain his good looks were a big contributor to her high. She was getting a much bigger break from her angel compatriot than she’d planned but until he was lifting her tiny frame up and over the fence she hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed it. The tour she got of the pier was one not many would receive in their lifetime. It helped that dodging security meant they spent a fair bit of time pressed against each other in the shadows or around a corner. Back in the car their conversation came easily. Sam was kind and funny and really smart and as the car turned in the direction toward her home for the night she began wishing he would hit every red light. It was all going to end way too soon.
Or maybe not. The conversation turned and when she looked at him there was something in his eyes that told her that he wasn’t through with her yet. Her insides twisted when his hand landed on her leg and then slid up her thigh just a little. Oh. Well. Betsy couldn’t help the grin that came to her, though she tried to hide it just a little. Looking too eager was a bad thing, right? She nodded slowly, truly surprised at the offer, “Um.. uh, yeah. Yeah, sure I’d like that. It’s not too far?” As he drove she turned to look out the window and it took everything inside of her not to squeal at the invitation. She wasn’t sure what exactly she was feeling, a mixture of excitement and anticipation or just nerves, but the place where his hand had lay on her thigh tingled.
The motel came into view and she glanced at him as they parked in front of his room. He turned off the car and silence was deafening. To say she was new to this would be an understatement. To be clear, Betsy was not a virgin. When she was 17 she ran away from home and the week she was gone before her Father found her there had been quite a whirlwind romance. But beyond that she didn’t get much action. The whole protecting her life thing took precedence over orgasms. (ooc though dean Winchester would disagree. Ba dum, chh!) “So, uh, here it is.” Betsy turned to look at him but before she could get far he was leaning towards her and his lips were on her, the place behind her ear. “Oh. Okay….” Her voice shook a little and as he kissed down her neck and across her shoulder her eyes closed.
She wasn’t thinking about smells or sounds or who else was in the parking lot watching them all that mattered in that moment was the feeling of his hot breath on her face, his hand on her thigh. Human touch was something she’d severely lacked in her life before leaving with Sariel, it was one of the things she knew she’d regret in those moments before her death. But not anymore. Even just from his kisses Betsy knew that she would wake up in the morning satisfied. When their lips touched her hand found it’s way to his neck, the other on his chest. He was as firm as he looked at it made a whimper escape from behind the kiss. Betsy kissed him until she had to come up for air and then kissed him again, her hands moving down to the hem of his shirt and then back up, though underneath the fabric on the ascent. The windows of the car grew cloudy from the heat they created between the two of them and when his hands were working their way up beneath her shirt she pulled back, laughing a little, “When you said we should come back to your motel I thought you meant I could go inside..” She kissed him again, love-drunk from his kisses. Inside or not, she was putty in his hands.
- Tag: Sam/Kath - 701 Words
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Post by Deleted on Dec 13, 2013 22:56:16 GMT -5
Sam did not have the best track record with women. Charlie had really hit the nail on the head when she'd said, 'Sorry you had zero luck with the ladies'. It wasn't that he couldn't get them, though he'd certainly never been a heavy hitter in that department; it was what happened once he had them. Love either never ended or it ended in sadness, that was the way it worked for anyone. But that 'sadness' for most people was usually a messy breakup. Sam's relationships ended much messier than that. Six women so far, and that wasn't counting the ones he slept with while soulless.
But there was no way that Betsy would be in any danger. She was a normal woman with no ties to the supernatural. And not the way Jess had been normal, because Sam had been her link to that world. After tonight, Sam wouldn't put her in danger anymore. What could one night hurt?
But all of that was far from his mind tonight. None of that would touch them. This night would be perfect, because it had to be perfect, because everything outside this night had gone to shit and he was only in one piece for two reasons: a beautiful woman and a beautiful buzz from that bottle of Jack. Sam threw himself into the passionate embrace with all the force of that desperate attempt at escape behind it. The stick shift was in the way, and that was unfortunately not an innuendo for the ever-hardening stick in Sam's jeans. As much as Sam had fantasies of getting laid in a car (in his fantasies it was always the Impala, but the vintage Ford he'd stolen from the bunker would have done well enough) -- it wasn't the easiest to maneuver. And it seemed that Betsy had the same idea.
“When you said we should come back to your motel I thought you meant I could go inside..”
"We've got all night," he said, giving a lopsided grin that made his dimples catch the light from the buzzing lamp overhead. "Come here." With one easy and surprisingly graceful swoop, he scooped her up and pulled her to his lap. With his arms locked around her and his hands exploring their natural resting place (her backside), Sam pressed his lips against hers a second time. This kiss went on and on, with Sam only coming up for air when his body required it of him. One hand let go of her long enough to pull the lever on his seat, and down they slid together. Sam wasn't sure where his body stopped and hers started anymore, briefly aware of the heat their friction was causing between their bodies, but he hardly dwelled on it. It would be quickly solved with a few less pieces of clothing, and he grasped the end of her shirt and pulled until it came free over her head. The shirt landed somewhere in the car and Sam's eyes landed on the skin revealed by it's absence. A bit of a groan left his lips as his large hands slid over the thin cloth of her bra.
"You're so beautiful," he said, and the hint of awe in his voice betrayed his honesty. Sam had been taught to respect and honor women from the start -- though he had never had one in his life for very long, their Dad had made sure his boys knew how to treat a lady. When he'd grown old enough to lust after them, this hadn't changed. Where men's bodies were hard and unforgiving, women's were soft and full of curves, full of places to lay your head and burrow close. He loved women, and not in the way womanizers 'loved' women. So Sam meant it when he complimented her form, and he meant it when he kissed his way between them like they were sacred ground.
His hands returned to her hips, where just below, his arousal had made itself very clear as they'd moved against each other. He made it all the more clear now, gripping her hips loosely to hold her in place as he moved against her. He trapped his sounds of lust in his throat, trying to hold them in, and all that came out was a husky groan as his eyes closed and the physical reactions thrilled through him. "I need you, Bets."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 15, 2013 19:25:01 GMT -5
The human body was amazing. Years of disuse and her body was responding to his every touch as if it was familiar to her. It had been a few decades since she’d had any sort of sexual touch that wasn’t her own but Sam was waking something up inside of her that was natural, primal. And he wasn’t even underneath her clothes yet. When he said they had all night she was filled with a warm feeling and she couldn’t help but laugh in that small, sexy sort of way. His arm went around her and as he pulled her over onto his lap she gasped, grinning at him. Sam’s size became all the more obvious with her on top of him. Not that size, his overall frame. Betsy was half his size, maybe less, and she was glad to be on top while this all got started. Beneath him she would be dwarfed, making the chance encounter all the more intimidating.
But any thoughts of intimidation or nerves were far from her mind. As the seat slipped back she followed him down. Her shirt came off but the action went uninterrupted. When he stopped kissing her to voice his approval of her appearance she moved her attention to his neck and then lower to his collar bone, her thin fingers moving up to the buttons on his shirt, one by one opening them up to reveal the smooth, hard chest beneath. The last person she’d touched so intimately had not looked like Sam. They had both been young and while he was handsome he didn’t have the same lean figure, hard muscles, chiseled jaw. And Sam definitely had experience over her past lover. His kisses over her skin made the places he’d touched tingle and grow warm and the noises that came from her sounded her approval.
Betsy gasped again when he pulled her hips down onto his and the mound beneath his jeans made her nervous. Her eyes flitted down between them and then back up to him as he spoke. The lust in the air was palpable and while her body was telling her that yes, she was ready her mind was having second thoughts. It had been so long since she’d done anything remotely similar, and he was obviously a professional. His confidence was intoxicating, even contagious, but the sovering moments when he wasn’t kissing her allowed the nerves to seep in. But one more look at his body and she was determined to push them away. Her hands pushed his shirt open further and then one hand slid further, beneath the waist of his jeans, past his boxers, and closed her fingers around the hardness she found there. Betsy moaned a little as she kissed him and removed her hand, sitting back to unbutton his jeans as she smirked at him, “Then by all means, Sam, take what you need.”
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Post by Deleted on Dec 30, 2013 21:48:24 GMT -5
It had been five hours since Betsy had left to get some air, and Sariel couldn't stand it anymore. After the first hour, she'd spent a while contemplating how long a human might need to get sufficient 'fresh air', thinking that it should certainly have been adequate time by now, but that she wouldn't baby Betsy or treat her like a ward. As much as she wanted to take Betsy under her wing, the woman was several decades old which, while nothing in angel years, was noteworthy in human years. Thus, Sariel tried to be calm and let Betsy have some time alone.
She tried to distract herself by watching television, but human drama was only so interesting to a soldier of God, and she quickly bored of it every time she tried. She took a shower, not because she needed to, but simply to pass the time, but when one's hair is only three inches long, one can only justify shampooing it so many times. So, clean and damp, she spent a few hours sitting on the edge of the bed contemplating the closure of Heaven and possible ways forward. An angel could get lost in its own mind for plenty of time for Betsy to 'get some air', surely. But when the four hour mark hit, Betsy still hadn't returned, and Sariel couldn't sit idly by any longer. There was no doubt about it: Betsy was in trouble.
Thus, she set out across the street to the bar she had watched Betsy disappear into. If she were lucky, she would find her unharmed and drunk. If she weren't lucky, then Betsy should have taken her admonishing about hostile angels more seriously. Betsy was nowhere to be seen within the sad little watering hole, and Sariel asked around until she found someone who remembered her. 'Oh, yeah,' the patron smirked, 'She left here hours ago with some big guy. They rode off in an old school Chevy, sweet ride.'
She couldn't be sure, but how many men drove vintage Chevrolets? They weren't good odds, at the least.
It wasn't easy to track her, but Sariel had a few tricks up her sleeve, and soon she was outside the motel room. She couldn't know that Betsy had spent the last few hours pressed between the sagging mattress of the motel bed and the hot, hard body of Sam Winchester. She didn't know that they had christened the Impala, both beds, the shower, and even the floor before they were through. All she knew was that the Winchesters weren't secure allies yet and it couldn't be happenstance that Sam had found a nephilim in Chicago. She didn't need to touch the door to blast it open, and she entered gracefully but full of heavenly wrath.
Sam was on the bed with his head on Betsy's chest when the door few open and hit the wall with enough force to make a cheap landscape fall off the wall. Going from 'afterglow' to 'attack' in two seconds flat, he leapt off the bed, planting himself between the intruder and Betsy--naked as the day he was born. "What do you want?!"
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Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2014 1:10:25 GMT -5
I've been really tryin, baby
And if you feel, like I feel baby, Come on, oh come on,
Let's get it on
Going to sleep nestled against a warm body was not something Betsy could say she’d ever experienced. She’d spent many nights in bed with her Mother but that was something entirely different. What she’d shared with Sam she could say she’d never shared with another person. It was animalistic, raw, real. It was messy and sweaty. But it was also beautiful and that moment when their eyes connected as he carried her from the dresser to the bed without disconnecting from her there was something true there. They both needed each other and like a perfect storm of emotion and instinct they came together. Her body ached in the best way and untangling from him it became difficult to remember where he ended and she began.
Sam’s body was hard but as she laid her head on his chest and his arm curved around her she wasn’t thinking about his physique. She could hear his heartbeat. It was slowing as he relaxed from the release they’d both experienced. If there was any sound she could listen to forever it was that. It kept their connection going somehow. Soon enough the sound lulled her to sleep and she didn’t move. It was a deep, fulfilling sleep and even her dreams were mild.
Often she had nightmares. It was the nephilim part of her, she was sure. Her dreams were vivid, often of angels and what they would do when they found her. Or images of the torment her Father must have experienced in his death. Or her Mother, tormented because of her corruption of an angel. But next to Sam her dreams were about going to the grocery store and running into old friends, hunters she’d helped in the past, and then the angel Sariel was there checking out her items and telling her how to get to the nearest Laundromat. It was downright dull!
Not for long, though. Sam was at it again, awake and burrowing into her. She smiled and slipped her hands into his hair, tugging just enough to get him to tilt his head up so she could kiss him but she didn’t get a chance to. The door flew open and she cried out, pulling the sheet up over her nudity. Sam flew from the bed, naked as ever, and there in the doorway stood Sariel. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the glow from her halo but Betsy pushed herself up and called, “Sam, stop, she’s…she’s with me.” The sheet was wrapped around her middle and pooled at her feet as she moved around him and glared at the angel, “What are you doing here?! I told you I needed air!” Betsy gave Sam a side-glance and spoke through her teeth hoping only the angel could hear her, “We were kind of in the middle of something.”
- Tag: Sam/Kath - 701 Words
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