Her Turn - Part 4
Jan. 13th, 2014 10:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mayalaenMaster Post || Prologue || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || Epilogue || Notes
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Part 4
Dean wakes up, their positions having changed in the night. She's on her back with her hand flung over his neck, her other hand behind her, and her head is turned to her left, so he can watch her face as she sleeps.
Dean slips under the covers and gently spreads her legs, doing it slowly so hopefully he won't wake her up yet. She must be a fairly heavy sleeper because he's able to spread her legs and get on his belly between her legs without her even twitching.
He breaths in the warm, lightly musky scent of her pussy. He's on his elbows, and he uses his thumbs and index fingers to gently open her up to him. He leans in and runs his tongue along the inside of her lips, gently yet firmly enough to not tickle her.
Dean slowly licks her hole, keeping his movements smooth so he doesn't jar her awake. He moves even slower as he heads toward her clit, knowing its sensitive enough to wake her. He lets the tip of his tongue run around the clit before he flicks the end of it, and that's enough to make Charlie twitch and murmur in her sleep.
He nearly laughs. Dean and Sam had been light sleepers as soon as they hit their teenage years and ever since. Their dad had always been an extremely light sleeper, as had any hunter they came across. The fact that she'd lived her life not needing to be a light sleeper was making his chest swell with affection and happiness for her.
Dean pushes his nose into the little tuft of hair, the flat of his tongue licking a stripe up her clit. That makes her hips jerk and he hears her moan. Her legs spread more.
“Best alarm clock ever,” she mumbles with a morning-deepened voice.
Dean reaches under her legs. She takes the hint and puts her feet flat on the bed and lets her knees fall apart. He shoves his hands under her ass cheeks and pulls her up to his face as he starts lazily running his tongue over her clit, down her lips, across and dipping into her hole, then back up again.
He doesn't know how long he stays under there, and there's no rush, so he keeps it slow, enjoys the way her body moves against him, still heavy with sleep, and listens to the noises she makes, learning what she likes the best.
Dean's hard, but he doesn't even bother humping the sheets. It's all about Charlie this morning, and he gives her his full attention.
Charlie's thighs start to quiver, so he speeds things up a bit, shoving his tongue in her hole, fucking in and out, then moving up to her clit, flicking his tongue back and forth. He sucks on her clit, making her yelp and squirm.
When she comes, she does it gently, moaning her way through it and grinding down onto his face. He licks her clean after she's done and is totally relaxed again, then crawls up to lie beside her again.
“I repeat; best alarm clock ever,” she says as she wraps her arms around his neck, rolls him onto his back, and lays her head on his chest. She flops her right leg down on top of his, her foot in between his ankles.
The fall asleep again, and Dean tries hard to stay awake, listen to her as she sleeps, but it doesn't take long for him to doze.
- - -
Dean wakes again, this time to Charlie sucking his cock. He's surprised she was able to get that far without him waking up, but he supposes it's because he's so comfortable with her already.
“Mmm, my alarm clock is awesome too,” he moans.
He looks down at her, able to see her looking back up at him because she's thrown the covers off him before crawling between his legs. She's watching him intensely, going just as slowly as he'd licked her earlier.
Dean shoves another pillow under his head so he can watch her without straining. She reaches up and runs the fingers of her left hand through his neatly trimmed pubic hair, tickling him with the light touch.
Her right arm is thrown over his left leg, leaning on his leg to give her balance as she swallows him slowly, backs off, then goes down again. Her left hand trails through his hair, down to his balls, rolling and gently tugging them.
She pulls off his cock, her left hand holding the base, then she blows over the tip, making him shiver. Charlie sticks her tongue out and starts flicking just under the head of his cock, and he tries hard not to thrust up.
He likes how she looks in the morning, he decides. Her hair is tousled, and she's not wearing any makeup, not even lip gloss. Her cheeks are lightly flushed, and her lips are already getting swollen and red from sucking his cock.
“You're beautiful,” he whispers, a soft smile on his face. “And it's not just because you have my cock in your mouth,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk.
She barks out a laugh. “This how you sweet talk all the girls?” Charlie asks with a grin.
“No,” he says honestly.
A genuinely happy smile spreads across her face. “Good. So I'm special?” she asks sweetly.
“Uh-huh. Very special,” he says, and he really means it.
He's never met anyone like her. He wants her all to himself, and the few times in life he's felt that way about a woman, he's never wanted it this badly before. He doesn't know if he'll get to keep her, but he's damn sure going to try.
Charlie gives him a scowl. “You're thinking too much for a girl who has her cock in my mouth,” she says.
Dean shrugs. “Sorry, It's just I...,” he starts, but trails off. He's been hurt enough that it's scary to put himself out there. And he has no clue what her plans are, but he'd regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't at least try.
“C'mon, spit it out,” Charlie says, holding his dick to the side so she can hold a conversation with him for the moment.
His eyes are burning, and his throat feels like it's going to close on him. His erection doesn't seem to care that he's getting emotional, but Charlie notices and cares. Her smile falls.
“What's wrong, Dee?” she asks.
Dean lets out a nervous chuckle, looks around his room. He's making a home here. For the first time in his life he's got something he feels might actually be permanent. Maybe. Charlie's seen what goes bump in the night, and she's still here, she didn't back down.
He wants to ask her to stay, but rejection hurts so badly that Dean's scared. He wants to just live in the moment longer, fantasize that she's going to stay forever, but it's going to hurt much worse if he lets himself keep falling more and more in love with her. And, oh god, it's love, isn't it?
Dean feels goosebumps rise up all over his arms and legs. He knew he really liked Charlie, but the realization he's already falling in love, that's new. It happened when he wasn't paying attention, just enjoying her and getting closer. It's going to hurt either way whether he tells her and gets rejected or he keeps quiet and waits for her to leave first.
He feels foolish for falling so hard so fast. She plays the field. She likes having fun. Why would he think she'd stop that for him? Sure they get along well, and the sex so far has been awesome, but this started when she began helping him with his gender issues. What if that's all she's in this for? That and having a good time?
His chest hurts. And his erection is definitely flagging now. She's still looking at him expectantly, and it doesn't appear she's noticed he's no longer hard.
“I,” Dean starts. “I'm just really having a great time with you.” It makes his throat stick, and it's hard to get out, but he does it. He can do this. He can enjoy her while he has her. Something's better than nothing. And she's a great something.
Her smile returns. “I'm having a really great time with you too,” she says, then drops his dick to crawl up and kiss him deeply.
Dean grabs onto her with both hands, kisses her like something he's already got and can keep, but there's a wall that's gone up. It's okay to have fun. He can do fun.
Charlie starts writhing against him, which wakes his erection back up, so by the time she gets back down between his legs, he's hard again. She's within the top three when it comes to giving great head, in his opinion, and when he comes, it feels a little like goodbye.
- - -
Dean feels a finger tapping on his shoulder, and he looks up from the book he's reading. Charlie is standing beside the library table with a shopping bag in her hand, a nearly manic grin on her face.
“I got you a present!” she says, shaking the bag a little.
“Cool!” Dean says, reaching for the bag.
Charlie snatches the bag back. “Uh-uh,” she says, her grin turning slightly evil. “Gotta open it in your room.”
Dean really wants to know what's in the bag now. Just as he opens his mouth to ask, Charlie spins around and takes off running for Dean's room.
He abandons the book and jogs after her. By the time he gets to the room and closes the door behind him, she's standing in the middle of the room with the bag hugged to her chest.
“Wait!” Charlie says, holding one hand out.
Dean freezes. “What?”
“I need to get some disclaimers out of the way first,” Charlie says.
“Okay,” he says.
“I know you said you weren't ready for this, but I'm going out on a limb by getting this for you,” Charlie says, her face showing her worry over Dean not liking the present. “You don't have to wear it at all if you don't want or you can just wear it in here. It's up to you. I can even take it back if you want.”
“Okay,” Dean says again.
Charlie walks up to him, hands him the bag, then stands back, bouncing on her toes, radiating excitement. Dean opens the bag and pulls out a school girl-type pleated mini skirt. It's pink and black plaid, and it looks short enough to be a lot of fun, yet still long enough it'll cover his junk.
He stands there holding it in his right hand, the bag in his left, just staring at it. He's nearly shaking he's so excited. It's another step. He doesn't even know if he's ready for the next step, but it's right here in his hand.
“Don't feel like you have to like it just because I bought it for you,” Charlie says.
Dean realizes he's been standing there staring, and poor Charlie is waiting to see if he's going to be upset by her gift or is he'll be okay with it.
He looks her in the eye. “Thank you,” he says, his lips twitching into a smile.
“You like it?” Charlie asks, her hands in fists and partway in the air like she's about to do a victory dance.
“I, yeah. Yes! I like it!” Dean stutters. “I really, really like it.”
“Yay!” Charlie says, clapping and doing a little wiggle, which makes Dean chuckle. “Try it on! Try it on!”
Dean's breath catches as he looks down at the skirt again. “Uhm,” he says stupidly.
“You don't have to, but you really look like you want to,” Charlie says as she walks up to him, takes the bag out of his hand, tosses it onto the bed.
Dean grimaces. “I'm all hairy,” he says, then scowls.
“Your legs?” she asks, and when he nods, she says, “I don't care! I wanna see if it fits!”
“Okay,” Dean says. He puts the skirt on the bed, then starts undressing.
Charlie goes to his dresser and pulls out his black tank top, then tosses it on the bed next to the skirt. Dean is naked beside his pink tanga panties before he realizes that Charlie is still completely dressed. He feels a quick flush of embarrassment, but he's too excited over the skirt to care all that much.
He's never worn a skirt before. He's taken plenty of skirts off women before, so he knows what to do. He undoes the hook, unzips, pulls it up his legs, then redoes the zipper and hook. Dean grabs the tank top and slides that on too. When he looks up at Charlie, she's got her hand over her mouth, her eyes are wide.
“Does it look bad?” he asks, suddenly alarmed.
“Hell no!” Charlie growls as she pulls her hand away from her mouth. “It's sexy as fuck!”
Dean lets out a nervous chuckle. Now that he's not freaking out over Charlie's reaction, he runs his hands down the sides of the skirt, feels the pleats, the soft material, and as he moves, he feels the skirt brush against his legs.
His breathing is uneven, and he can't decide whether he's scared by how good this feels or he's just plain excited over it. The skirt comes to about three or four inches below his ass cheeks, and he flushes as he realizes bending over would give anyone behind him a very obvious view of his ass in his pink panties.
For the first time since trying out all the panties and thinking of what he's going to do about his wardrobe, he's not turned on, and his dick doesn't try to join the party. It's not that he doesn't like it. In fact he's so happy about the skirt, feels so right in it that he's not even thinking of it sexually.
He figures that'll come sooner or later, but in this moment he really wants a mirror to check out his new skirt.
Dean walks over to the other side of his room, where he has a full-length mirror standing against the wall. It's nothing fancy. There's not even a frame on the thing, but it'll do the trick.
He can't help but gasp when he sees himself. His body isn't as soft and pretty as a girl's body, but the way the skirt falls against his legs, the way the tank top rides, making it almost look like he might have tits even if they'd be small, and the way the skirt moves when he moves is filling yet another empty spot he'd felt inside himself.
Charlie comes up behind him, grinning like a lunatic and vibrating with excitement. “Very pretty,” she drawls.
Dean can feel himself blush. He chuckles, then turns his hips back and forth so he can see the skirt move with his body, feel it against his legs. “Now I really want to shave my legs,” he says.
Charlie grabs him by the arm, turns him sideways. “Look in the mirror,” she says, pushing him so that he's bent at the waist just a bit. She lifts up the skirt on the side facing the mirror. “Check it out.”
Now Dean's getting hard. The panties peeking out and the glimpse of his ass check under the skirt is so hot he shivers.
Dean spins, wraps his arms around Charlie's arms and shoulders, and hugs her hard enough she squeaks a little. “Thank you,” Dean says, then turns and kisses the side of her head. “Thank you so much.”
“You're welcome,” Charlie says, wrapping her arms around his waist to hug him back.
- - -
Charlie and Dean had gone shopping for Sam. He'd given them a list, making sure they both knew he'd wanted those exact ingredients, no substitutes, and they'd had to go to four grocery stores to find everything, but they headed back and carried everything into the bunker.
Sam smiled, thanked them, then told them to get out of the kitchen. Dean snorted and rolled his eyes when Sam's tail shooed them out. So they'd gone into the library. Not for anything specific, but more just to try and find something to do.
Dean sees the metal bookmark Sam had left sitting on the table, doesn't touch it, and warns Charlie about it. She nods her understanding and starts looking through the shelves.
Dean grabs a random book and sits down in a chair, a desk in front of him where he sets the book down. He's glancing through the pages, not really paying attention when Charlie comes up behind him, wraps her arms around his neck, and kisses his neck.
“My hickey is still there,” she says.
Dean chuckles. “Sam's been teasing me about it for two days,” he says.
Charlie giggles and licks over the hickey. “I'm going to have to freshen it up later so it doesn't fade.”
The same feeling that's been roiling in his stomach for three days flares again. Charlie has asked him a few more times if something's wrong, but he tells her it's nothing. He hates lying to her, but he just can't bring himself to say what's wrong.
“So have you fucked on the library table yet?” Charlie asks, then nibbles on his earlobe.
“No, I haven't,” he says, his fingers running over the pages in the book.
“Do you want to fuck on the library table?” she asks, letting go of him and pulling herself up onto the table, sitting down next to his book.
“It does sound like fun,” he replies, still looking down at the book.
Suddenly the book is shoved off to the other side of the table. He looks up at her and she looks kind of pissed. His stomach clenches, and it must show on his face that he's nervous and upset, but he can't fake it.
“I'm done,” Charlie says.
“Oh,” Dean says, his eyes looking off to the shelves.
“I'm done with you hiding something from me,” she says, then grabs his chin, forces him to look at her. “Whatever it is that you're upset about, I think it has to do with me, and even though you're hiding it most of the time, you're not hiding it completely, and I'm done letting you hide.”
“Oh,” Dean whispers.
“This is where you tell me what's wrong,” she says, letting her hand drop from his chin.
Dean's eyes immediately drop down to his lap. His eyes are burning, and he's scared that if he keeps looking at her, he's going to make a mess of himself. She doesn't deserve this. She's looking for fun, and he was fun, but now he's not. He should've worked at it harder, and now he feels stupid and petty about the whole thing.
“Are you not happy?” Charlie asks. “Have you changed your mind on the whole Dee versus Dean thing?”
It's the first time Dean has heard his real name in weeks, and it actually hurts to hear it. “No,” he says.
She sighs. “I can play twenty questions with you, but I'd rather not. I'd really like it if you told me what's wrong.”
Dean shoves his face into his hands, scrubbing his face in the hopes of making the stinging in his eyes go away. It doesn't work. He tries to rub his palms into his eyes, get the wetness away before she sees it.
“Dee?” Charlie asks, and the tone of her voice, the sincerity and concern in her voice cuts through him like a knife.
He pulls his hands away from his face. He might as well. She knows he's really upset. She's confronted him. The type of woman she is, she's going to keep trying to get him to talk, though she won't nag, just be so concerned that he feels like an ass for keeping it from her.
“I really like you,” Dean says, still looking down at his lap. He sniffs, feeling ridiculous.
“I'm...,” Charlie starts, then stutters. “I'm kind of lost here. Because I really like you too, and I kind of thought that was obvious. Did I miss something big?”
Dean shakes his head. “No, I'm just an idiot,” he says, raising his eyes to look at her, and the look on her face sends another knife through him.
Her hands flutter at her sides for a moment, then she huffs. “Dee, please, I need more to go on,” she says with feeling.
Dean sighs, his shoulders dropping in defeat, his throat burning. “I went and fell in love with you,” he says with a sad chuckle. “And that was really stupid of me because I didn't see it happening until I was already falling hard, and I know you're having a good time, and I'm having a good time, and I know when you're done here and ready to move on, now it's going to hurt so much worse because I let myself fall so hard, and so I feel really stupid, and I'm sorry for acting like an ass, and I'm sorry for dumping this on you, and I'm sorry for... I'm sorry for almost everything.”
Charlie looks as if she's processing everything he's just admitted, and he wonders what's going on inside her head. The emotions on her face flit by so fast he doesn't know what she's feeling.
She rolls her eyes. “You know that thing I said back when we were wrestling on the mats? That thing about you needing to start listening like a woman if you wanted to be one?” she asks, a very odd look on her face and a tone to her voice that suggests she's a little ticked off, but not pissed.
“Uhm, yeah,” Dean says.
“Well, you need to work on the being oblivious like a man too,” she says, then smacks his arm. Hard.
“Huh?” he says, totally confused. Great thing about confusion, it dries up his tears.
“Did you not notice I've already moved in with you?” she asks as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
“Ah, no,” Dean says, his eyes widening. “What do you mean?”
“The room I was staying in is empty again,” she says, flapping a hand toward where their rooms are. “My clothes are in your dresser drawers, my stuff is in the nightstand, my computer is set up in your room, and all my bags are unpacked.”
“I'm, uhm,” Dean stutters stupidly. “I'm the one who's lost now.”
“Apparently,” Charlie says, rolling her eyes again. “Sam's already calling it “your bedroom” when he talks to me, I'm doing laundry and helping with cleaning around here, I'm going shopping with and for you, and did you even notice that my Facebook status is “in a relationship” as of not too long after I got here?”
“Oh,” Dean says, feeling kind of ridiculous.
The bridge of Charlie's nose wrinkles up in an adorable way. “Yeah, “oh.” Granted I talked to Sam and not you about the whole moving in and asked him for pointers on being in a long-term relationship with you, but still, it seemed like you were all for every bit of it.”
Dean is dumbfounded. He doesn't know what to say, what to think. And given that Charlie had already talked to Sam, he was the last to know he was in a relationship already.
Charlie shrugs. “Or at least you seemed like you were all for every bit of it until a few days ago, but I thought you were just working through things in your head, and I was giving you space to do that. Now I see you were pulling back, giving yourself space to keep from getting hurt when I decided I was done playing with you and was ready to move on. Have I got that right so far?”
Dean nods. His mouth is opening and closing, and he really probably looks like a fish, but he doesn't know what to say. His head is spinning, and he feels as if his world has shifted two feet to the right, leaving him behind to catch up.
Charlie slithers off the table and onto his lap, wraps her right arm around the back of his neck, and kisses him. He's too stunned to participate much, but the kiss calms him a little, ground him, makes him feel like things might be okay one of these days.
Charlie breaks the kiss and leans back to look him in the eye. “I've fallen in love with you over these past weeks, which is something that doesn't come quickly or easily for me, and I have a feeling it doesn't for you either.”
Dean shakes his head. “No, not so much.”
“You've been more than just a good time,” she says, wiping the last of the wetness from under his eyes. “I didn't know for sure if you were in this for the long haul, but I was hoping you were, and I was hoping you wanted that from me too.”
“I do,” he whispers.
“Then stop being oblivious. Again,” she says, then smacks him in the back of the head playfully.
Dean lets a small smile spread across his lips. “Uhm, I think I have a problem with obliviousness.”
Charlie snorts indelicately. “Ya think?”
Dean chuckles, then rests his forehead on her chest. This is actually happening. He's getting what he wanted of her. It's damn near overwhelming. It's overwhelming in a good way, but it's a rush to the head and a change of everything he'd been preparing himself for.
“So can we get back to having amazingly awesome sex?” she asks loudly.
Dean laughs, the tension breaking and his feelings for her soaring. His lungs feels too big for his ribcage. “I'd like that very much.”
“Well, then, I think you should fuck me in celebration,” Charlie says, hopping off his lap and grabbing him by the front of his shirt to pull him up.
“Right here?” he asks as he looks around the large room.
“Right here,” she says with an exaggerated nod, then stage whispers, “I told Sam we'd be having table sex and to stay in the kitchen until we're done.”
Dean starts laughing again. He wondered why Sam had that goofy grin on his face and was so insistent they get out of the kitchen.
“I'm totally clean. Are you clean?” she asks, poking him in the chest.
“Hell, yeah!” he says, realizing why she's asking. He's totally up for that. He's always had to be careful, and he'd only stopped using condoms with Lisa after they'd been together for a while. He'd not even gotten to that point with Cassie.
“Yay!” she says, clapping and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I totally prepared for the occasion by wearing a skirt and no panties!”
Dean hadn't even realized she was wearing a skirt. That's how upset he'd been. He feels silly for it now. He usually takes note of what she's wearing, not only because he really likes the way she dresses and she looks cute in damn near everything, but because he just likes women's clothes in general. They're so much nicer than clothes made for guys. There's more styles, more patterns, and such a wide range from playful to business-like, from cute and adorable to amazingly sexy, from conservative to leaving nothing to the imagination.
She's wearing a black and white striped A-line skirt that comes to just above her knees. It 's complemented by her black wedge heels and black baby doll T-shirt with a large, red, D20 die on the front of it.
But then the last part of her sentence hits, the part about no panties, and he groans, leans in to kiss her. She kicks off her shoes while they kiss, then she unhooks his belt, undoes his jeans, pulls his cock out, and starts to stroke it.
He kisses her harder, grabbing her ass with both hands, then lifting her up onto the table. Being a guy isn't cool with him for a lot of reasons, but when it comes to manhandling women, he does like it.
Once he sets her ass on the table, he grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her down so she's lying back on the table. He crouches down and shoves his face under her skirt, licking her pussy fast and rough and making her yelp.
She puts her feet up on his shoulders, and he puts his hands on the edge of the table to steady himself with the added weight of her legs so he can concentrate on her pussy. Dean shoves his tongue in her hole, fucking in and out of it, not bothering to go slow or tease her at all. She's really excited, and her feet are pulling on his shoulders, her toes curling into him and trying to pull him to her pussy.
Dean licks broad swipes up and down her slit, getting her messy with his spit and the wetness she's already leaking. Then he attacks her clit, flicking it hard with his tongue and alternating the flicks with hard pushing with the flat of his tongue.
She shoves her pussy up into his face, trying to get more, and so he sucks on her clit. She squirms even more, panting hard and moaning loudly enough Dean thinks Sam might hear her, but he doesn't care.
“Dee!” Charlie yells, coming hard and thrusting up against his face, his nose mashing up against her little tuft of hair.
He doesn't even let her finish her orgasm before he's pushing into her, making sure he's not hurting her, but not stopping or giving her time to adjust. She gasps, and he feels her pussy contracting around him, the last of her orgasm ripping through her as he starts fucking her.
Dean leans over her, shoves her shirt up, and pulls her left bra cup out of the way, then starts mouthing her breast. He's fucking her hard and fast, his hands finding hers and lacing their fingers together. She's finally through with her orgasm, and she sounds as if she's well on her way to another.
Charlie's hips are thrusting up to meet his as he pounds into her, and she's grunting with nearly every thrust. He bites her nipple, and then grins as he hears her yelp.
“Fuck, yeah!” Charlie yells. “Fuck me, Dee! Fuck me!” she pants.
He's licking around her nipple when she lets go of his hands, grabs him by the face with both hands, yanks him up, and smashes their lips together, his hips still thrusting hard into her. They're both moaning into each others mouths, and Dean sucks on her tongue when she shoves it into his mouth.
She's got a hold of either side of his face still, and he lets her move him how she wants as they kiss. He wraps his arms around the back of her upper torso, lifting her off the table a bit, then wrapping his hands over the tops of her shoulders, pulling her harder toward him as he fucks her.
Dean's not going to last long, and Charlie's moaning kicks up a notch, her body already stuttering as she heads into her second orgasm.
Charlie pulls back from the kiss, looks him in the eye. “I'm gonna come! I'm gonna come!” Charlie growls as her body starts shaking, her pussy clenching hard around his cock.
He fucks her through her orgasm, her mouth open in a soundless scream until her body finally goes limp in his arms, then she starts moaning.
“Come for me, Dee,” Charlie says, her words slurred. “C'mon, baby.”
Dean whimpers, then his hips stutter as his orgasm hits. His eyes squeeze shut and he rests his forehead against her breast, burying his cock as deeply inside her as he can and grunting through his orgasm.
“Charlie!” Dean groans as his hips jerk out of rhythm, and then he comes to a stop, panting hard into her chest.
Charlie's breath is already coming under control, and she runs her fingers through his hair, moaning happily and wriggling beneath him a little.
“I like your way of celebrating,” Dean says, his speech nearly as slurred as hers was after her orgasm.
Charlie chuckles, then grabs his face again to give him a quick kiss. “I have awesome ideas.”
“Totally,” Dean agrees, then slowly stands upright.
Dean considers eating her out to clean her up, but he really doesn't like the taste of his own jizz. Girls taste so much better. So he takes off his flannel shirt, and as he pulls out of Charlie, he gently cleans her up, then himself. He pulls his pants back up and buttons them.
“Even after everything you've said about my dick and all,” Dean says, “I still wasn't sure if you'd let me fuck you.”
Charlie sits up. “Uhm, yeah, I'd let you fuck me,” she says with an adorable smirk on her face.
Dean chuckles, then helps her down from the table. She pulls her skirt down, pushes her bra back into place, and pulls her shirt down.
“I say we go take a shower together,” Charlie says. “And maybe I'll let you fuck me again before dinner.”
Charlie turns, picks up her shoes, and walks out of the library with a sway of her hips that makes Dean groan. He follows after her, his cock already twitching at the thought of showering with Charlie.
- - -
One week and lots of fantastic sex later, they're still no closer to finding out why Sam has a tail and what to do about it. It's not become a problem. Sam's not acting weird. And in fact he seems quite at home with his tail.
Dean teases him about it, but he's careful to be out of tail reach when he does so because that tail hurts, damn it. The last time Sam got him good, Dean had a welt across both ass cheeks. Of course that turned out okay because Charlie insisted on licking and nibbling the welt for quite a long time in bed before fucking him with her strap-on, the alien dildo in place this time.
Sam has called around to a few people he hopes can help him, but he's careful about what he says, and no one has any information. He doesn't seem upset by any of it, but all three of them have to wonder if something bad will happen.
Dean gets a call from an old friend of his dad's who says he has a gremlin problem again. Well, gremlin is what Tulley called it, but from his dad's note, Tulley had an imp infestation years ago.
“Please!” Charlie drawls, eyes big and round, grabbing his arm as if squeezing it will show Dean just how badly she wants him to say yes.
Dean huffs, looks to Sam for help, but Sam just shrugs. “Thanks for the support,” Dean grumbles.
Charlie sidles up next to Dean, her breasts pressing into his arm in a move that he thinks is probably calculated, and she rests her cheek on his upper arm, gazing up at him.
“I'll do everything you say, I won't get in the way, and if you say run, I'll run, but please!” Charlie begs.
“It's just imps, Dee,” Sam says with a wince.
They both know things that seem simple don't always turn out to be simple, but imps really are more mischievous than maliciously dangerous.
“I'll blow you on the way,” Charlie sing-songs.
Dean hears Sam make a bit of a squeaking noise and turns to smirk at him. “I think that might make Sam a little uncomfortable unless we do it while he's napping or something in the back seat,” Dean says, watching Sam's cheeks flush.
Sam clears his throat. “It's less than four hours to get to Omaha, Nebraska,” he says. “It's a good hunt for us to take her on if she wants to get some experience.”
Dean thinks about it. Sure, he's worried about her, but she'll be with two experienced hunters. Even if they have to end up telling her to just run, like she says she'll do if they say so, this is a really tame hunt, and she should be okay.
“Would you mind driving while we sit in the back, Sammy?” Dean asks, waiting for Sam's cheeks to flush an even darker shade of red. They do, and Dean grins unrepentantly.
“Yes, I would mind,” Sam says with a sour look on his face. “Four hours of blue balls and dealing with beings that would get a kick out of teasing me is not my idea of fun. And then I'd have to deal with the imps.”
Charlie snorts into Dean's arm and Dean chuckles. “All right, fine,” Dean gives. “We'll try and keep it to a minimum and I'll drive.”
“Thank you,” Sam says, then spins on his heel and heads toward his room.
“Do I get any weapons?” Charlie asks as she pushes away from him to bounce on her toes, her hands fluttering excitedly at her sides.
“Yes, you'll get a weapon,” Dean says indulgently. “But you've gotta change your clothes.”
Charlie looks down at her pajama bottoms, the T-shirt she's wearing that's actually Dean's, and her bare feet. She looks back up at him and scowls. “Fine. But it would've made the car ride more comfy,” she says, then hurries off to their room.
Dean grins as he watches her practically run. He loves that it's their room. It's become theirs after Dean got his head out of his ass and realized what was going on with Charlie's help. He insisted she make it her room too, so there's an actual computer desk in there now for her laptop and some of her gadgets.
Dean bought her an ergonomic chair for the desk after he came in and saw her hunched over, sitting on an old trunk that wasn't tall enough for her to use as a desk chair.
The bed has more pillows than before, and the bedspread is larger, more colorful with tastefully subtle white flowers on a dark brown background. Half the drawers in the room are hers, and he can't help but smile when he sees her shoes sitting alongside his on the floor.
She's made her mark in other parts of the bunker as well. She's found an old overstuffed chair and ottoman on Craigslist that she and Sam went to pick up. It's in the library, and it's where Charlie can be found whenever she's not in their room, cleaning up somewhere around the bunker, or learning self-defense in the room they've set aside for it with mats all over the floor.
An imp is fairly easy to kill, and so on the way to Omaha, Dean and Sam warn Charlie about how fast they can be, how sneaky they can be, and to keep an eye out for traps.
Dean gave her a switchblade made by a hunter named Riley they'd known for years. It was fashioned after the Smith & Wesson Black Ops Switchblade. The differences were subtle, but hunters didn't usually like safety latches, so those weren't included in the design, and screws falling out were a pain in the ass and deadly, so Riley had improved upon the design and sold them much cheaper than they could get one just walking into a store and buying a real Smith & Wesson.
They hadn't trained her with a gun yet, so Dean didn't give her one, but he did give her a small flamethrower they'd put together themselves. It wasn't as big as most flamethrowers, so instead of being strapped to her back, it was hand-held. It wasn't as dangerous as holding a lighter up to an aerosol can, but the size was comparable. Dean had shown her how to use it the day before, and her eyes had lit up with excitement when she used it.
Charlie had dressed in black jeans and a long-sleeved gray shirt. Dean was happy with how her new boots fit, and they finished the look, making for a very sexy huntress. Dean had thoroughly appreciated her ass in the jeans.
“So do I have to stay quiet or can I talk around the homeowners,” Charlie asks, turned toward Dean in the front seat.
Sam is stretched out in the back seat, sitting on the passenger side with his legs sprawled out and partially in the driver's side foot well.
“We try not to scare the shit out of homeowners,” Dean says, turning the music down so they can talk more. They alternated between talking and going miles just listening to music. “But Tulley was clued in years ago to the supernatural, so you shouldn't have to worry about that. And yeah, you don't have to be the silent partner, here.”
“Do I get an alias?” Charlie asks, sounding more excited. “Ooh! Do I get a fake ID?” she asks as she bounces in the seat.
Dean chuckles, and as he looks in the rear view mirror, he sees Sam is grinning. Sam has apparently decided Charlie is the little sister he never had, and for the first time in his life, barring any feelings or attachment he had for Adam because he really didn't get to spend time with him, Sam gets to be a big brother.
Dean thinks it's adorable. Charlie has run with it, and she has him wrapped around her little finger. She can do no wrong in Sam's eyes, and if there's a disagreement between Dean and her, Sam gives Dean the Death Glare and tells him he's being an ass. Sam's become protective of her, and he's also helping with her training.
Sam spent an entire day cooking a meal for her three days ago because she'd mentioned it was her favorite, but she didn't get to eat it often because it took so long to marinate and cook.
“I've already made you a few fake IDs,” Sam says.
Charlie squeals and bounces even harder on her seat. “Where are they? Who am I? Am I somebody cool? Do I have any badges? Ooh, do I get to be an FBI agent? I could totally do the whole wallet flip and show my badge off. That would be so cool!”
Sam and Dean both chuckle. Dean glances back at his brother. “You'd better get her at least one badge now,” Dean says.
Charlie gasps and turns around, her knees on the seat. “I do get a badge?” she says with so much enthusiasm that Dean wishes he could see her face.
“Yes, I'll make you one,” Sam says with what Dean likes to call Sam's 'I have an adorable little sister' voice. It's a mixture of indulgent, patient, affectionate, and with a good dose of love on top. Dean gets a huge kick out of it.
“Yay!” Charlie says, and Dean can hear her clap. “What are my aliases? Ooh, do I get cool classic rock names like you guys?”
“Well,” Sam starts, and Dean can hear the wince in his voice, “there weren't that many notable classic rock females who have names that aren't ridiculously memorable, so what I had to do was go with more modern rock female names.”
“Oh, yeah,” Charlie says with her 'I'm thinking' voice, and Dean knows there's a cute little scowl on her face when she uses that voice. “That makes sense, I guess.”
“I went with Rayna Foss from Coal Chamber, Kim Gordon from Sonic Youth, and Linda Perry from 4 Non Blondes,” Sam lists. “I'll make more up later, but those should get you started.”
“Thanks, Sam,” Charlie says in a voice that makes Dean's chest swell with affection.
Dean knows that voice totally melts Sam, so he looks in the rear view mirror in time to see Sam's cheeks flush a little and his dimples come out in full force as he smiles back at Charlie.
“You're welcome, sweetie,” Sam says.
Charlie turns back around in her seat, and she's radiating energy. Dean swears it's palpable. And it's something he loves about Charlie. She's not the loudest person he's ever met, but she has an energy about her that is infectious.
“Okay, one more time,” Dean says as they turn down a dirt road leading to Tulley's house. “What kills an imp?”
“Pretty much anything that kills a human except lack of oxygen,” Charlie recites.
“And what do you keep in mind at all times?” Sam prompts from the back seat.
“That you guys need to be within sight and within hearing distance,” Charlie lists, holding up a finger to count each item, “I need to run if one of you says run, don't be a hero, ask for help, watch for traps, and never turn your back on an imp.”
“Awesome,” Dean says as he reaches over and pats Charlie's leg.
Charlie wraps her fingers around his hand, holding tight for a moment. He knows she's nervous. She's excited too because this is her first hunt where it's voluntary from the beginning to the end, not forced upon her by necessity. But anything can happen, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous too.
They'd left at four o'clock so they'd get to the house around dusk. Imps are active at night, hide and sleep during the day, so there was no sense going in the morning unless Tulley had found where they were holed up, which he hadn't.
The sun is just setting as all three of them get out of the car, stepping out onto a gravel driveway leading up to a rather nondescript ranch house. Off-white paint, dark gray roof, one story with shutters on all the windows. There are a few bushes and trees strewn about the property, but being just outside Omaha in farmland, they don't have neighbors who are close by.
Tulley is standing on his porch, and he waves to them, then walks out to meet them. “Hey, boys,” Tulley says with a bright smile.
Dean remembers Tulley always smiling. When he was in the middle of the last imp infestation, the guy had cracked a joke about it even as John had stitched up Tulley's leg after he'd fallen through a broken board in his barn, his leg going through and getting scraped up.
“Hello, sir,” Dean says as he shakes Tulley's outstretched hand.
“And who is this gorgeous young lady?” Tulley says. He's got more gray in his hair than Dean remembered from last time, but his scruffy beard still has some dark brown in it.
Charlie giggles as Tulley takes her hand in his and kisses the back of her hand. “I'm Charlie,” she says.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie,” Tulley says. “I hope these boys are treating you right,” he says as he eyes up Sam and Dean.
Dean's breath catches, his stomach clenching. Other than clerks in grocery stores, Tulley is the first one to refer to Dean as a male in weeks, and it tugs at something in Dean. He'd gotten used to Sam and Charlie going with the flow, letting him be who he wanted to be, not pressuring him either way, and being so awesome about it that he'd gotten used to it.
It's a smack in the face, even though he knows he should have expected it. He's wearing panties, but other than that, everything about him says male. Tulley had no way of knowing, and Dean didn't even think he wanted Tulley to know.
The fact that Dean still can't refer to himself as she wasn't a big thing to him. Well, it was and it wasn't. He knew he'd get there one day, but it wasn't something he actively thought about all the time. To have Tulley refer to him as one of the boys was something Dean should have been ready for, and he kicks himself for letting his guard down that much.
“They spoil me, Mr. Tulley,” Charlie says, leaning to her left and smashing into Dean's right side.
Dean smiles. “We do, sir,” he says as he looks down at Charlie.
“Well, I suppose I should get out of your hair, kids,” Tulley says. “I sent the wife to her sister's yesterday afternoon when I realized what was going on, and I'm about to head that way myself, as per your instructions.”
“Thanks, Tulley,” Sam says. “We don't mean to throw you out of your own house, but –,”
“Don't worry about it,” Tulley says, waving off Sam's polite excuses. “I understand this is what you boys do, and I don't want to get in the way. Just let me know when me and the wife can come back home. Everything's unlocked at the moment, but here's the key if you need it,” he says as he hands Dean the key.
“Have a nice visit with the in-laws,” Dean teases, knowing Tulley's brother-in-law is a little hard to get along with.
Tulley rolls his eyes. “Can't wait,” he grumbles. “Oh, and there's an envelope on the kitchen table for you. I'm confident you'll take care of our problem, and I really do appreciate it.”
“You don't have to –,” Dean starts.
“Nothin' doin',” Tulley says as he claps Dean on the shoulder. “Token of my appreciation, and you'll accept it graciously and not insult me by fightin' me on it, understood?” he says as he raises an eyebrow.
Dean chuckles, then nods. “Okay, well, thank you, sir,” he says.
“Keep safe,” Tulley says as he waves, heading off toward his pickup truck.
The three of them wave, then Sam goes to the car, pulling out a few weapons from the trunk. Dean grabs Charlie's hand, and together they walk toward the barn. They do a full check of the outside of the barn, looking at the integrity of the building and the basic shape, checking for holes in the wood and ground around it. It's around forty feet wide by maybe one hundred feet long, and they can see that it has a loft area.
“I'm looking for any evidence the imps have been active outside first,” Dean says halfway through their circuit around the barn, remembering Charlie's new to this and needs to know the hows and whys.
“Kind of like that?” Charlie asks as she points to a mound of fresh dirt against the back of the barn.
Dean smiles as he nods. “Exactly,” he says, walking her over to the mound, but staying a few feet back. It's been built up against the wood to a height of about one and a half feet. “Not many people would notice something like that. You're a natural,” Dean says as he squeezes her hand.
She gives him a big smile in return. “Are you going to do anything to it?”
“Not right now,” Dean says. “If that's their way in or out of the barn, I'll keep it in mind, but I don't want to make any big changes to what they've done yet.”
“Okay,” Charlie says, then walks along with him as they come back around to the front of the barn.
Sam's there, and he hands Charlie her flamethrower and a cattle prod with a nearly four-foot reach, Dean his gun and hatchet. Sam's left with the taser clipped to his jeans, a handgun, and a modified hatchet that has blades on both side of the head instead of just a blade and a blunt side. Charlie puts the strap of the flamethrower over her shoulder so she can hold her flashlight with a free hand.
“I'll take point,” Dean says. “Charlie, you stay between us at all times, and Sam will take the rear. Keep vocal about anything you see or if you feel anything odd. Instinct might kick in for you, and if it does, speak up about it. Gut feelings have kept us alive more than once. Keep your voice low, watch for hand signals from me and Sam.”
“Gotcha,” Charlie says, looking a little apprehensive but there's excitement in her eyes too.
Dean opens the barn door, his flashlight on, and checks inside for anything obvious before stepping in. He hears Charlie and Sam moving behind him, each of them taking in their surroundings, three beams of light panning around the inside of the barn.
There's not much in the barn. Tulley doesn't have animals anymore since he and his wife were getting older and made enough money from their home business to keep them living comfortably. The rusty Studebaker Tulley's had forever is covered with a tarp in the middle of the barn.
Dean's flashlight shines over a few stacks of boxes toward the far right of the barn, but nothing is out of the ordinary from this distance. There's a workbench to their left with neatly arranged tools hung on a peg board above it.
Dean glances at both Charlie and Sam, looking for any sign of something odd they may have picked up on. A subtle shake of Sam's head lets him know Sam hasn't seen anything and Charlie shrugs.
They walk toward the center of the barn, Dean's flashlight sweeping the far left corner, Charlie looking under the Studebaker from a distance in case there's something under there, and Sam is checking out the boxes Dean saw to the right.
Dean freezes as he hears a soft click, then swallows a yelp as a sudden and sharp pain flares in his right calf. He hisses out a “fuck,” letting Sam know something's wrong, but also letting him know t's not serious enough to drop everything and run to him.
He hears Sam working his way over to him, most likely sweeping the area so they don't get caught unaware, and keeping an eye on Charlie. Dean looks down, his flashlight finding blood on his blue jeans, a small stick coming out of his calf. There's not an alarming amount of blood, but Dean hopes the stick wasn't tipped with anything poisonous.
Keeping alert to his surroundings, Dean crouches and pulls the stick out of his leg. It burns more than it should, and when he looks at the end of the stick, it's obviously been whittled into a little javelin. When Dean senses Sam coming up to him, he keeps his eyes on his surroundings as he holds the stick up for Sam to take.
Sam takes the stick, and Dean can hear Sam sniff the end of it, checking for any substance he might be able to smell that might be dangerous.
Dean glances up at Sam to see Sam's expression, which says he doesn't smell anything, but he pockets the stick anyway. Dean stands, his leg not happy with moving, but it won't kill him. Dean sees Charlie moving around the Studebaker still, pointing her flashlight at it and looking as if she really wants to pull the tarp off the thing.
He motions to Sam, letting him know he's going to check out the car with Charlie and that he wants Sam to have their back. Sam nods.
Dean walks up next to Charlie, and the look she gives him sends chills up his spine. He raises his eyebrows in a question.
She points at her stomach then the car, and it takes a moment, but Dean gets it that she's got a gut feeling about the car. He nods, then waves her back, glances over at Sam, pointing toward the car to let Sam know he's going to take the tarp off. Sam nods and steps back a few feet so he can get as much of the barn in his peripheral vision as possible.
Dean pulls hard on the tarp to get it off the car quickly. Charlie's light shines into the back of the car while Dean aims his into the front seat. Charlie grabs his shirt and yanks a little, so he makes sure to check that the front seat doesn't have immediate dangers as quickly as possible, then takes a step toward the back door, holding his flashlight so he can see into the foot wells of the back seat.
It's filled with dirt, boards, and what looks like some of Tulley's flannel shirts torn into pieces. Dean lifts his left hand up high enough to get Sam's attention, then points down to the back seat of the car, letting Sam know he's found something and is about to check into it.
Dean doesn't bother glancing at Sam. Years of working together gives them an almost sixth sense about each other, and Dean knows Sam saw him by the soft hiss Sam just let out, and he knows Sam is keeping an eye on everything he can.
Charlie stays back, but her light continues to shine into the back seat. Dean pulls the back door open, shining his flashlight down into the foot well of the passenger side, which is closest to him, in case something's ready to jump out and bite him.
Nothing's there but more of the dirt and flannel shirt pieces. Dean holds out his hatchet, shoving the shirts to see if anything's in them before daring to get his hands anywhere near them.
Sam's gun fires, Charlie yelps, and Dean spins to see that Sam has killed one of the imps as it was crawling out from under the car. It had been about a foot away from Charlie.
Dean turns too late, and something hits him in the left chest. He sees it out of the corner of his eye, coming from the mass of shirt pieces, but he's on his back before he has a chance to do anything about it.
A flare of pain spreads from where the thing hit him in his chest, but there's a blur of movement too fast for Dean to follow, and just as he thinks possibly the stick did have something on it that's affecting him, he hears Charlie scream Sam's name, Sam yelling “Dee,” and then the world goes dark.
- - -
Next: Part 5
-
Part 4
Dean wakes up, their positions having changed in the night. She's on her back with her hand flung over his neck, her other hand behind her, and her head is turned to her left, so he can watch her face as she sleeps.
Dean slips under the covers and gently spreads her legs, doing it slowly so hopefully he won't wake her up yet. She must be a fairly heavy sleeper because he's able to spread her legs and get on his belly between her legs without her even twitching.
He breaths in the warm, lightly musky scent of her pussy. He's on his elbows, and he uses his thumbs and index fingers to gently open her up to him. He leans in and runs his tongue along the inside of her lips, gently yet firmly enough to not tickle her.
Dean slowly licks her hole, keeping his movements smooth so he doesn't jar her awake. He moves even slower as he heads toward her clit, knowing its sensitive enough to wake her. He lets the tip of his tongue run around the clit before he flicks the end of it, and that's enough to make Charlie twitch and murmur in her sleep.
He nearly laughs. Dean and Sam had been light sleepers as soon as they hit their teenage years and ever since. Their dad had always been an extremely light sleeper, as had any hunter they came across. The fact that she'd lived her life not needing to be a light sleeper was making his chest swell with affection and happiness for her.
Dean pushes his nose into the little tuft of hair, the flat of his tongue licking a stripe up her clit. That makes her hips jerk and he hears her moan. Her legs spread more.
“Best alarm clock ever,” she mumbles with a morning-deepened voice.
Dean reaches under her legs. She takes the hint and puts her feet flat on the bed and lets her knees fall apart. He shoves his hands under her ass cheeks and pulls her up to his face as he starts lazily running his tongue over her clit, down her lips, across and dipping into her hole, then back up again.
He doesn't know how long he stays under there, and there's no rush, so he keeps it slow, enjoys the way her body moves against him, still heavy with sleep, and listens to the noises she makes, learning what she likes the best.
Dean's hard, but he doesn't even bother humping the sheets. It's all about Charlie this morning, and he gives her his full attention.
Charlie's thighs start to quiver, so he speeds things up a bit, shoving his tongue in her hole, fucking in and out, then moving up to her clit, flicking his tongue back and forth. He sucks on her clit, making her yelp and squirm.
When she comes, she does it gently, moaning her way through it and grinding down onto his face. He licks her clean after she's done and is totally relaxed again, then crawls up to lie beside her again.
“I repeat; best alarm clock ever,” she says as she wraps her arms around his neck, rolls him onto his back, and lays her head on his chest. She flops her right leg down on top of his, her foot in between his ankles.
The fall asleep again, and Dean tries hard to stay awake, listen to her as she sleeps, but it doesn't take long for him to doze.
- - -
Dean wakes again, this time to Charlie sucking his cock. He's surprised she was able to get that far without him waking up, but he supposes it's because he's so comfortable with her already.
“Mmm, my alarm clock is awesome too,” he moans.
He looks down at her, able to see her looking back up at him because she's thrown the covers off him before crawling between his legs. She's watching him intensely, going just as slowly as he'd licked her earlier.
Dean shoves another pillow under his head so he can watch her without straining. She reaches up and runs the fingers of her left hand through his neatly trimmed pubic hair, tickling him with the light touch.
Her right arm is thrown over his left leg, leaning on his leg to give her balance as she swallows him slowly, backs off, then goes down again. Her left hand trails through his hair, down to his balls, rolling and gently tugging them.
She pulls off his cock, her left hand holding the base, then she blows over the tip, making him shiver. Charlie sticks her tongue out and starts flicking just under the head of his cock, and he tries hard not to thrust up.
He likes how she looks in the morning, he decides. Her hair is tousled, and she's not wearing any makeup, not even lip gloss. Her cheeks are lightly flushed, and her lips are already getting swollen and red from sucking his cock.
“You're beautiful,” he whispers, a soft smile on his face. “And it's not just because you have my cock in your mouth,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk.
She barks out a laugh. “This how you sweet talk all the girls?” Charlie asks with a grin.
“No,” he says honestly.
A genuinely happy smile spreads across her face. “Good. So I'm special?” she asks sweetly.
“Uh-huh. Very special,” he says, and he really means it.
He's never met anyone like her. He wants her all to himself, and the few times in life he's felt that way about a woman, he's never wanted it this badly before. He doesn't know if he'll get to keep her, but he's damn sure going to try.
Charlie gives him a scowl. “You're thinking too much for a girl who has her cock in my mouth,” she says.
Dean shrugs. “Sorry, It's just I...,” he starts, but trails off. He's been hurt enough that it's scary to put himself out there. And he has no clue what her plans are, but he'd regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't at least try.
“C'mon, spit it out,” Charlie says, holding his dick to the side so she can hold a conversation with him for the moment.
His eyes are burning, and his throat feels like it's going to close on him. His erection doesn't seem to care that he's getting emotional, but Charlie notices and cares. Her smile falls.
“What's wrong, Dee?” she asks.
Dean lets out a nervous chuckle, looks around his room. He's making a home here. For the first time in his life he's got something he feels might actually be permanent. Maybe. Charlie's seen what goes bump in the night, and she's still here, she didn't back down.
He wants to ask her to stay, but rejection hurts so badly that Dean's scared. He wants to just live in the moment longer, fantasize that she's going to stay forever, but it's going to hurt much worse if he lets himself keep falling more and more in love with her. And, oh god, it's love, isn't it?
Dean feels goosebumps rise up all over his arms and legs. He knew he really liked Charlie, but the realization he's already falling in love, that's new. It happened when he wasn't paying attention, just enjoying her and getting closer. It's going to hurt either way whether he tells her and gets rejected or he keeps quiet and waits for her to leave first.
He feels foolish for falling so hard so fast. She plays the field. She likes having fun. Why would he think she'd stop that for him? Sure they get along well, and the sex so far has been awesome, but this started when she began helping him with his gender issues. What if that's all she's in this for? That and having a good time?
His chest hurts. And his erection is definitely flagging now. She's still looking at him expectantly, and it doesn't appear she's noticed he's no longer hard.
“I,” Dean starts. “I'm just really having a great time with you.” It makes his throat stick, and it's hard to get out, but he does it. He can do this. He can enjoy her while he has her. Something's better than nothing. And she's a great something.
Her smile returns. “I'm having a really great time with you too,” she says, then drops his dick to crawl up and kiss him deeply.
Dean grabs onto her with both hands, kisses her like something he's already got and can keep, but there's a wall that's gone up. It's okay to have fun. He can do fun.
Charlie starts writhing against him, which wakes his erection back up, so by the time she gets back down between his legs, he's hard again. She's within the top three when it comes to giving great head, in his opinion, and when he comes, it feels a little like goodbye.
- - -
Dean feels a finger tapping on his shoulder, and he looks up from the book he's reading. Charlie is standing beside the library table with a shopping bag in her hand, a nearly manic grin on her face.
“I got you a present!” she says, shaking the bag a little.
“Cool!” Dean says, reaching for the bag.
Charlie snatches the bag back. “Uh-uh,” she says, her grin turning slightly evil. “Gotta open it in your room.”
Dean really wants to know what's in the bag now. Just as he opens his mouth to ask, Charlie spins around and takes off running for Dean's room.
He abandons the book and jogs after her. By the time he gets to the room and closes the door behind him, she's standing in the middle of the room with the bag hugged to her chest.
“Wait!” Charlie says, holding one hand out.
Dean freezes. “What?”
“I need to get some disclaimers out of the way first,” Charlie says.
“Okay,” he says.
“I know you said you weren't ready for this, but I'm going out on a limb by getting this for you,” Charlie says, her face showing her worry over Dean not liking the present. “You don't have to wear it at all if you don't want or you can just wear it in here. It's up to you. I can even take it back if you want.”
“Okay,” Dean says again.
Charlie walks up to him, hands him the bag, then stands back, bouncing on her toes, radiating excitement. Dean opens the bag and pulls out a school girl-type pleated mini skirt. It's pink and black plaid, and it looks short enough to be a lot of fun, yet still long enough it'll cover his junk.
He stands there holding it in his right hand, the bag in his left, just staring at it. He's nearly shaking he's so excited. It's another step. He doesn't even know if he's ready for the next step, but it's right here in his hand.
“Don't feel like you have to like it just because I bought it for you,” Charlie says.
Dean realizes he's been standing there staring, and poor Charlie is waiting to see if he's going to be upset by her gift or is he'll be okay with it.
He looks her in the eye. “Thank you,” he says, his lips twitching into a smile.
“You like it?” Charlie asks, her hands in fists and partway in the air like she's about to do a victory dance.
“I, yeah. Yes! I like it!” Dean stutters. “I really, really like it.”
“Yay!” Charlie says, clapping and doing a little wiggle, which makes Dean chuckle. “Try it on! Try it on!”
Dean's breath catches as he looks down at the skirt again. “Uhm,” he says stupidly.
“You don't have to, but you really look like you want to,” Charlie says as she walks up to him, takes the bag out of his hand, tosses it onto the bed.
Dean grimaces. “I'm all hairy,” he says, then scowls.
“Your legs?” she asks, and when he nods, she says, “I don't care! I wanna see if it fits!”
“Okay,” Dean says. He puts the skirt on the bed, then starts undressing.
Charlie goes to his dresser and pulls out his black tank top, then tosses it on the bed next to the skirt. Dean is naked beside his pink tanga panties before he realizes that Charlie is still completely dressed. He feels a quick flush of embarrassment, but he's too excited over the skirt to care all that much.
He's never worn a skirt before. He's taken plenty of skirts off women before, so he knows what to do. He undoes the hook, unzips, pulls it up his legs, then redoes the zipper and hook. Dean grabs the tank top and slides that on too. When he looks up at Charlie, she's got her hand over her mouth, her eyes are wide.
“Does it look bad?” he asks, suddenly alarmed.
“Hell no!” Charlie growls as she pulls her hand away from her mouth. “It's sexy as fuck!”
Dean lets out a nervous chuckle. Now that he's not freaking out over Charlie's reaction, he runs his hands down the sides of the skirt, feels the pleats, the soft material, and as he moves, he feels the skirt brush against his legs.
His breathing is uneven, and he can't decide whether he's scared by how good this feels or he's just plain excited over it. The skirt comes to about three or four inches below his ass cheeks, and he flushes as he realizes bending over would give anyone behind him a very obvious view of his ass in his pink panties.
For the first time since trying out all the panties and thinking of what he's going to do about his wardrobe, he's not turned on, and his dick doesn't try to join the party. It's not that he doesn't like it. In fact he's so happy about the skirt, feels so right in it that he's not even thinking of it sexually.
He figures that'll come sooner or later, but in this moment he really wants a mirror to check out his new skirt.
Dean walks over to the other side of his room, where he has a full-length mirror standing against the wall. It's nothing fancy. There's not even a frame on the thing, but it'll do the trick.
He can't help but gasp when he sees himself. His body isn't as soft and pretty as a girl's body, but the way the skirt falls against his legs, the way the tank top rides, making it almost look like he might have tits even if they'd be small, and the way the skirt moves when he moves is filling yet another empty spot he'd felt inside himself.
Charlie comes up behind him, grinning like a lunatic and vibrating with excitement. “Very pretty,” she drawls.
Dean can feel himself blush. He chuckles, then turns his hips back and forth so he can see the skirt move with his body, feel it against his legs. “Now I really want to shave my legs,” he says.
Charlie grabs him by the arm, turns him sideways. “Look in the mirror,” she says, pushing him so that he's bent at the waist just a bit. She lifts up the skirt on the side facing the mirror. “Check it out.”
Now Dean's getting hard. The panties peeking out and the glimpse of his ass check under the skirt is so hot he shivers.
Dean spins, wraps his arms around Charlie's arms and shoulders, and hugs her hard enough she squeaks a little. “Thank you,” Dean says, then turns and kisses the side of her head. “Thank you so much.”
“You're welcome,” Charlie says, wrapping her arms around his waist to hug him back.
- - -
Charlie and Dean had gone shopping for Sam. He'd given them a list, making sure they both knew he'd wanted those exact ingredients, no substitutes, and they'd had to go to four grocery stores to find everything, but they headed back and carried everything into the bunker.
Sam smiled, thanked them, then told them to get out of the kitchen. Dean snorted and rolled his eyes when Sam's tail shooed them out. So they'd gone into the library. Not for anything specific, but more just to try and find something to do.
Dean sees the metal bookmark Sam had left sitting on the table, doesn't touch it, and warns Charlie about it. She nods her understanding and starts looking through the shelves.
Dean grabs a random book and sits down in a chair, a desk in front of him where he sets the book down. He's glancing through the pages, not really paying attention when Charlie comes up behind him, wraps her arms around his neck, and kisses his neck.
“My hickey is still there,” she says.
Dean chuckles. “Sam's been teasing me about it for two days,” he says.
Charlie giggles and licks over the hickey. “I'm going to have to freshen it up later so it doesn't fade.”
The same feeling that's been roiling in his stomach for three days flares again. Charlie has asked him a few more times if something's wrong, but he tells her it's nothing. He hates lying to her, but he just can't bring himself to say what's wrong.
“So have you fucked on the library table yet?” Charlie asks, then nibbles on his earlobe.
“No, I haven't,” he says, his fingers running over the pages in the book.
“Do you want to fuck on the library table?” she asks, letting go of him and pulling herself up onto the table, sitting down next to his book.
“It does sound like fun,” he replies, still looking down at the book.
Suddenly the book is shoved off to the other side of the table. He looks up at her and she looks kind of pissed. His stomach clenches, and it must show on his face that he's nervous and upset, but he can't fake it.
“I'm done,” Charlie says.
“Oh,” Dean says, his eyes looking off to the shelves.
“I'm done with you hiding something from me,” she says, then grabs his chin, forces him to look at her. “Whatever it is that you're upset about, I think it has to do with me, and even though you're hiding it most of the time, you're not hiding it completely, and I'm done letting you hide.”
“Oh,” Dean whispers.
“This is where you tell me what's wrong,” she says, letting her hand drop from his chin.
Dean's eyes immediately drop down to his lap. His eyes are burning, and he's scared that if he keeps looking at her, he's going to make a mess of himself. She doesn't deserve this. She's looking for fun, and he was fun, but now he's not. He should've worked at it harder, and now he feels stupid and petty about the whole thing.
“Are you not happy?” Charlie asks. “Have you changed your mind on the whole Dee versus Dean thing?”
It's the first time Dean has heard his real name in weeks, and it actually hurts to hear it. “No,” he says.
She sighs. “I can play twenty questions with you, but I'd rather not. I'd really like it if you told me what's wrong.”
Dean shoves his face into his hands, scrubbing his face in the hopes of making the stinging in his eyes go away. It doesn't work. He tries to rub his palms into his eyes, get the wetness away before she sees it.
“Dee?” Charlie asks, and the tone of her voice, the sincerity and concern in her voice cuts through him like a knife.
He pulls his hands away from his face. He might as well. She knows he's really upset. She's confronted him. The type of woman she is, she's going to keep trying to get him to talk, though she won't nag, just be so concerned that he feels like an ass for keeping it from her.
“I really like you,” Dean says, still looking down at his lap. He sniffs, feeling ridiculous.
“I'm...,” Charlie starts, then stutters. “I'm kind of lost here. Because I really like you too, and I kind of thought that was obvious. Did I miss something big?”
Dean shakes his head. “No, I'm just an idiot,” he says, raising his eyes to look at her, and the look on her face sends another knife through him.
Her hands flutter at her sides for a moment, then she huffs. “Dee, please, I need more to go on,” she says with feeling.
Dean sighs, his shoulders dropping in defeat, his throat burning. “I went and fell in love with you,” he says with a sad chuckle. “And that was really stupid of me because I didn't see it happening until I was already falling hard, and I know you're having a good time, and I'm having a good time, and I know when you're done here and ready to move on, now it's going to hurt so much worse because I let myself fall so hard, and so I feel really stupid, and I'm sorry for acting like an ass, and I'm sorry for dumping this on you, and I'm sorry for... I'm sorry for almost everything.”
Charlie looks as if she's processing everything he's just admitted, and he wonders what's going on inside her head. The emotions on her face flit by so fast he doesn't know what she's feeling.
She rolls her eyes. “You know that thing I said back when we were wrestling on the mats? That thing about you needing to start listening like a woman if you wanted to be one?” she asks, a very odd look on her face and a tone to her voice that suggests she's a little ticked off, but not pissed.
“Uhm, yeah,” Dean says.
“Well, you need to work on the being oblivious like a man too,” she says, then smacks his arm. Hard.
“Huh?” he says, totally confused. Great thing about confusion, it dries up his tears.
“Did you not notice I've already moved in with you?” she asks as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
“Ah, no,” Dean says, his eyes widening. “What do you mean?”
“The room I was staying in is empty again,” she says, flapping a hand toward where their rooms are. “My clothes are in your dresser drawers, my stuff is in the nightstand, my computer is set up in your room, and all my bags are unpacked.”
“I'm, uhm,” Dean stutters stupidly. “I'm the one who's lost now.”
“Apparently,” Charlie says, rolling her eyes again. “Sam's already calling it “your bedroom” when he talks to me, I'm doing laundry and helping with cleaning around here, I'm going shopping with and for you, and did you even notice that my Facebook status is “in a relationship” as of not too long after I got here?”
“Oh,” Dean says, feeling kind of ridiculous.
The bridge of Charlie's nose wrinkles up in an adorable way. “Yeah, “oh.” Granted I talked to Sam and not you about the whole moving in and asked him for pointers on being in a long-term relationship with you, but still, it seemed like you were all for every bit of it.”
Dean is dumbfounded. He doesn't know what to say, what to think. And given that Charlie had already talked to Sam, he was the last to know he was in a relationship already.
Charlie shrugs. “Or at least you seemed like you were all for every bit of it until a few days ago, but I thought you were just working through things in your head, and I was giving you space to do that. Now I see you were pulling back, giving yourself space to keep from getting hurt when I decided I was done playing with you and was ready to move on. Have I got that right so far?”
Dean nods. His mouth is opening and closing, and he really probably looks like a fish, but he doesn't know what to say. His head is spinning, and he feels as if his world has shifted two feet to the right, leaving him behind to catch up.
Charlie slithers off the table and onto his lap, wraps her right arm around the back of his neck, and kisses him. He's too stunned to participate much, but the kiss calms him a little, ground him, makes him feel like things might be okay one of these days.
Charlie breaks the kiss and leans back to look him in the eye. “I've fallen in love with you over these past weeks, which is something that doesn't come quickly or easily for me, and I have a feeling it doesn't for you either.”
Dean shakes his head. “No, not so much.”
“You've been more than just a good time,” she says, wiping the last of the wetness from under his eyes. “I didn't know for sure if you were in this for the long haul, but I was hoping you were, and I was hoping you wanted that from me too.”
“I do,” he whispers.
“Then stop being oblivious. Again,” she says, then smacks him in the back of the head playfully.
Dean lets a small smile spread across his lips. “Uhm, I think I have a problem with obliviousness.”
Charlie snorts indelicately. “Ya think?”
Dean chuckles, then rests his forehead on her chest. This is actually happening. He's getting what he wanted of her. It's damn near overwhelming. It's overwhelming in a good way, but it's a rush to the head and a change of everything he'd been preparing himself for.
“So can we get back to having amazingly awesome sex?” she asks loudly.
Dean laughs, the tension breaking and his feelings for her soaring. His lungs feels too big for his ribcage. “I'd like that very much.”
“Well, then, I think you should fuck me in celebration,” Charlie says, hopping off his lap and grabbing him by the front of his shirt to pull him up.
“Right here?” he asks as he looks around the large room.
“Right here,” she says with an exaggerated nod, then stage whispers, “I told Sam we'd be having table sex and to stay in the kitchen until we're done.”
Dean starts laughing again. He wondered why Sam had that goofy grin on his face and was so insistent they get out of the kitchen.
“I'm totally clean. Are you clean?” she asks, poking him in the chest.
“Hell, yeah!” he says, realizing why she's asking. He's totally up for that. He's always had to be careful, and he'd only stopped using condoms with Lisa after they'd been together for a while. He'd not even gotten to that point with Cassie.
“Yay!” she says, clapping and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I totally prepared for the occasion by wearing a skirt and no panties!”
Dean hadn't even realized she was wearing a skirt. That's how upset he'd been. He feels silly for it now. He usually takes note of what she's wearing, not only because he really likes the way she dresses and she looks cute in damn near everything, but because he just likes women's clothes in general. They're so much nicer than clothes made for guys. There's more styles, more patterns, and such a wide range from playful to business-like, from cute and adorable to amazingly sexy, from conservative to leaving nothing to the imagination.
She's wearing a black and white striped A-line skirt that comes to just above her knees. It 's complemented by her black wedge heels and black baby doll T-shirt with a large, red, D20 die on the front of it.
But then the last part of her sentence hits, the part about no panties, and he groans, leans in to kiss her. She kicks off her shoes while they kiss, then she unhooks his belt, undoes his jeans, pulls his cock out, and starts to stroke it.
He kisses her harder, grabbing her ass with both hands, then lifting her up onto the table. Being a guy isn't cool with him for a lot of reasons, but when it comes to manhandling women, he does like it.
Once he sets her ass on the table, he grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her down so she's lying back on the table. He crouches down and shoves his face under her skirt, licking her pussy fast and rough and making her yelp.
She puts her feet up on his shoulders, and he puts his hands on the edge of the table to steady himself with the added weight of her legs so he can concentrate on her pussy. Dean shoves his tongue in her hole, fucking in and out of it, not bothering to go slow or tease her at all. She's really excited, and her feet are pulling on his shoulders, her toes curling into him and trying to pull him to her pussy.
Dean licks broad swipes up and down her slit, getting her messy with his spit and the wetness she's already leaking. Then he attacks her clit, flicking it hard with his tongue and alternating the flicks with hard pushing with the flat of his tongue.
She shoves her pussy up into his face, trying to get more, and so he sucks on her clit. She squirms even more, panting hard and moaning loudly enough Dean thinks Sam might hear her, but he doesn't care.
“Dee!” Charlie yells, coming hard and thrusting up against his face, his nose mashing up against her little tuft of hair.
He doesn't even let her finish her orgasm before he's pushing into her, making sure he's not hurting her, but not stopping or giving her time to adjust. She gasps, and he feels her pussy contracting around him, the last of her orgasm ripping through her as he starts fucking her.
Dean leans over her, shoves her shirt up, and pulls her left bra cup out of the way, then starts mouthing her breast. He's fucking her hard and fast, his hands finding hers and lacing their fingers together. She's finally through with her orgasm, and she sounds as if she's well on her way to another.
Charlie's hips are thrusting up to meet his as he pounds into her, and she's grunting with nearly every thrust. He bites her nipple, and then grins as he hears her yelp.
“Fuck, yeah!” Charlie yells. “Fuck me, Dee! Fuck me!” she pants.
He's licking around her nipple when she lets go of his hands, grabs him by the face with both hands, yanks him up, and smashes their lips together, his hips still thrusting hard into her. They're both moaning into each others mouths, and Dean sucks on her tongue when she shoves it into his mouth.
She's got a hold of either side of his face still, and he lets her move him how she wants as they kiss. He wraps his arms around the back of her upper torso, lifting her off the table a bit, then wrapping his hands over the tops of her shoulders, pulling her harder toward him as he fucks her.
Dean's not going to last long, and Charlie's moaning kicks up a notch, her body already stuttering as she heads into her second orgasm.
Charlie pulls back from the kiss, looks him in the eye. “I'm gonna come! I'm gonna come!” Charlie growls as her body starts shaking, her pussy clenching hard around his cock.
He fucks her through her orgasm, her mouth open in a soundless scream until her body finally goes limp in his arms, then she starts moaning.
“Come for me, Dee,” Charlie says, her words slurred. “C'mon, baby.”
Dean whimpers, then his hips stutter as his orgasm hits. His eyes squeeze shut and he rests his forehead against her breast, burying his cock as deeply inside her as he can and grunting through his orgasm.
“Charlie!” Dean groans as his hips jerk out of rhythm, and then he comes to a stop, panting hard into her chest.
Charlie's breath is already coming under control, and she runs her fingers through his hair, moaning happily and wriggling beneath him a little.
“I like your way of celebrating,” Dean says, his speech nearly as slurred as hers was after her orgasm.
Charlie chuckles, then grabs his face again to give him a quick kiss. “I have awesome ideas.”
“Totally,” Dean agrees, then slowly stands upright.
Dean considers eating her out to clean her up, but he really doesn't like the taste of his own jizz. Girls taste so much better. So he takes off his flannel shirt, and as he pulls out of Charlie, he gently cleans her up, then himself. He pulls his pants back up and buttons them.
“Even after everything you've said about my dick and all,” Dean says, “I still wasn't sure if you'd let me fuck you.”
Charlie sits up. “Uhm, yeah, I'd let you fuck me,” she says with an adorable smirk on her face.
Dean chuckles, then helps her down from the table. She pulls her skirt down, pushes her bra back into place, and pulls her shirt down.
“I say we go take a shower together,” Charlie says. “And maybe I'll let you fuck me again before dinner.”
Charlie turns, picks up her shoes, and walks out of the library with a sway of her hips that makes Dean groan. He follows after her, his cock already twitching at the thought of showering with Charlie.
- - -
One week and lots of fantastic sex later, they're still no closer to finding out why Sam has a tail and what to do about it. It's not become a problem. Sam's not acting weird. And in fact he seems quite at home with his tail.
Dean teases him about it, but he's careful to be out of tail reach when he does so because that tail hurts, damn it. The last time Sam got him good, Dean had a welt across both ass cheeks. Of course that turned out okay because Charlie insisted on licking and nibbling the welt for quite a long time in bed before fucking him with her strap-on, the alien dildo in place this time.
Sam has called around to a few people he hopes can help him, but he's careful about what he says, and no one has any information. He doesn't seem upset by any of it, but all three of them have to wonder if something bad will happen.
Dean gets a call from an old friend of his dad's who says he has a gremlin problem again. Well, gremlin is what Tulley called it, but from his dad's note, Tulley had an imp infestation years ago.
“Please!” Charlie drawls, eyes big and round, grabbing his arm as if squeezing it will show Dean just how badly she wants him to say yes.
Dean huffs, looks to Sam for help, but Sam just shrugs. “Thanks for the support,” Dean grumbles.
Charlie sidles up next to Dean, her breasts pressing into his arm in a move that he thinks is probably calculated, and she rests her cheek on his upper arm, gazing up at him.
“I'll do everything you say, I won't get in the way, and if you say run, I'll run, but please!” Charlie begs.
“It's just imps, Dee,” Sam says with a wince.
They both know things that seem simple don't always turn out to be simple, but imps really are more mischievous than maliciously dangerous.
“I'll blow you on the way,” Charlie sing-songs.
Dean hears Sam make a bit of a squeaking noise and turns to smirk at him. “I think that might make Sam a little uncomfortable unless we do it while he's napping or something in the back seat,” Dean says, watching Sam's cheeks flush.
Sam clears his throat. “It's less than four hours to get to Omaha, Nebraska,” he says. “It's a good hunt for us to take her on if she wants to get some experience.”
Dean thinks about it. Sure, he's worried about her, but she'll be with two experienced hunters. Even if they have to end up telling her to just run, like she says she'll do if they say so, this is a really tame hunt, and she should be okay.
“Would you mind driving while we sit in the back, Sammy?” Dean asks, waiting for Sam's cheeks to flush an even darker shade of red. They do, and Dean grins unrepentantly.
“Yes, I would mind,” Sam says with a sour look on his face. “Four hours of blue balls and dealing with beings that would get a kick out of teasing me is not my idea of fun. And then I'd have to deal with the imps.”
Charlie snorts into Dean's arm and Dean chuckles. “All right, fine,” Dean gives. “We'll try and keep it to a minimum and I'll drive.”
“Thank you,” Sam says, then spins on his heel and heads toward his room.
“Do I get any weapons?” Charlie asks as she pushes away from him to bounce on her toes, her hands fluttering excitedly at her sides.
“Yes, you'll get a weapon,” Dean says indulgently. “But you've gotta change your clothes.”
Charlie looks down at her pajama bottoms, the T-shirt she's wearing that's actually Dean's, and her bare feet. She looks back up at him and scowls. “Fine. But it would've made the car ride more comfy,” she says, then hurries off to their room.
Dean grins as he watches her practically run. He loves that it's their room. It's become theirs after Dean got his head out of his ass and realized what was going on with Charlie's help. He insisted she make it her room too, so there's an actual computer desk in there now for her laptop and some of her gadgets.
Dean bought her an ergonomic chair for the desk after he came in and saw her hunched over, sitting on an old trunk that wasn't tall enough for her to use as a desk chair.
The bed has more pillows than before, and the bedspread is larger, more colorful with tastefully subtle white flowers on a dark brown background. Half the drawers in the room are hers, and he can't help but smile when he sees her shoes sitting alongside his on the floor.
She's made her mark in other parts of the bunker as well. She's found an old overstuffed chair and ottoman on Craigslist that she and Sam went to pick up. It's in the library, and it's where Charlie can be found whenever she's not in their room, cleaning up somewhere around the bunker, or learning self-defense in the room they've set aside for it with mats all over the floor.
An imp is fairly easy to kill, and so on the way to Omaha, Dean and Sam warn Charlie about how fast they can be, how sneaky they can be, and to keep an eye out for traps.
Dean gave her a switchblade made by a hunter named Riley they'd known for years. It was fashioned after the Smith & Wesson Black Ops Switchblade. The differences were subtle, but hunters didn't usually like safety latches, so those weren't included in the design, and screws falling out were a pain in the ass and deadly, so Riley had improved upon the design and sold them much cheaper than they could get one just walking into a store and buying a real Smith & Wesson.
They hadn't trained her with a gun yet, so Dean didn't give her one, but he did give her a small flamethrower they'd put together themselves. It wasn't as big as most flamethrowers, so instead of being strapped to her back, it was hand-held. It wasn't as dangerous as holding a lighter up to an aerosol can, but the size was comparable. Dean had shown her how to use it the day before, and her eyes had lit up with excitement when she used it.
Charlie had dressed in black jeans and a long-sleeved gray shirt. Dean was happy with how her new boots fit, and they finished the look, making for a very sexy huntress. Dean had thoroughly appreciated her ass in the jeans.
“So do I have to stay quiet or can I talk around the homeowners,” Charlie asks, turned toward Dean in the front seat.
Sam is stretched out in the back seat, sitting on the passenger side with his legs sprawled out and partially in the driver's side foot well.
“We try not to scare the shit out of homeowners,” Dean says, turning the music down so they can talk more. They alternated between talking and going miles just listening to music. “But Tulley was clued in years ago to the supernatural, so you shouldn't have to worry about that. And yeah, you don't have to be the silent partner, here.”
“Do I get an alias?” Charlie asks, sounding more excited. “Ooh! Do I get a fake ID?” she asks as she bounces in the seat.
Dean chuckles, and as he looks in the rear view mirror, he sees Sam is grinning. Sam has apparently decided Charlie is the little sister he never had, and for the first time in his life, barring any feelings or attachment he had for Adam because he really didn't get to spend time with him, Sam gets to be a big brother.
Dean thinks it's adorable. Charlie has run with it, and she has him wrapped around her little finger. She can do no wrong in Sam's eyes, and if there's a disagreement between Dean and her, Sam gives Dean the Death Glare and tells him he's being an ass. Sam's become protective of her, and he's also helping with her training.
Sam spent an entire day cooking a meal for her three days ago because she'd mentioned it was her favorite, but she didn't get to eat it often because it took so long to marinate and cook.
“I've already made you a few fake IDs,” Sam says.
Charlie squeals and bounces even harder on her seat. “Where are they? Who am I? Am I somebody cool? Do I have any badges? Ooh, do I get to be an FBI agent? I could totally do the whole wallet flip and show my badge off. That would be so cool!”
Sam and Dean both chuckle. Dean glances back at his brother. “You'd better get her at least one badge now,” Dean says.
Charlie gasps and turns around, her knees on the seat. “I do get a badge?” she says with so much enthusiasm that Dean wishes he could see her face.
“Yes, I'll make you one,” Sam says with what Dean likes to call Sam's 'I have an adorable little sister' voice. It's a mixture of indulgent, patient, affectionate, and with a good dose of love on top. Dean gets a huge kick out of it.
“Yay!” Charlie says, and Dean can hear her clap. “What are my aliases? Ooh, do I get cool classic rock names like you guys?”
“Well,” Sam starts, and Dean can hear the wince in his voice, “there weren't that many notable classic rock females who have names that aren't ridiculously memorable, so what I had to do was go with more modern rock female names.”
“Oh, yeah,” Charlie says with her 'I'm thinking' voice, and Dean knows there's a cute little scowl on her face when she uses that voice. “That makes sense, I guess.”
“I went with Rayna Foss from Coal Chamber, Kim Gordon from Sonic Youth, and Linda Perry from 4 Non Blondes,” Sam lists. “I'll make more up later, but those should get you started.”
“Thanks, Sam,” Charlie says in a voice that makes Dean's chest swell with affection.
Dean knows that voice totally melts Sam, so he looks in the rear view mirror in time to see Sam's cheeks flush a little and his dimples come out in full force as he smiles back at Charlie.
“You're welcome, sweetie,” Sam says.
Charlie turns back around in her seat, and she's radiating energy. Dean swears it's palpable. And it's something he loves about Charlie. She's not the loudest person he's ever met, but she has an energy about her that is infectious.
“Okay, one more time,” Dean says as they turn down a dirt road leading to Tulley's house. “What kills an imp?”
“Pretty much anything that kills a human except lack of oxygen,” Charlie recites.
“And what do you keep in mind at all times?” Sam prompts from the back seat.
“That you guys need to be within sight and within hearing distance,” Charlie lists, holding up a finger to count each item, “I need to run if one of you says run, don't be a hero, ask for help, watch for traps, and never turn your back on an imp.”
“Awesome,” Dean says as he reaches over and pats Charlie's leg.
Charlie wraps her fingers around his hand, holding tight for a moment. He knows she's nervous. She's excited too because this is her first hunt where it's voluntary from the beginning to the end, not forced upon her by necessity. But anything can happen, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous too.
They'd left at four o'clock so they'd get to the house around dusk. Imps are active at night, hide and sleep during the day, so there was no sense going in the morning unless Tulley had found where they were holed up, which he hadn't.
The sun is just setting as all three of them get out of the car, stepping out onto a gravel driveway leading up to a rather nondescript ranch house. Off-white paint, dark gray roof, one story with shutters on all the windows. There are a few bushes and trees strewn about the property, but being just outside Omaha in farmland, they don't have neighbors who are close by.
Tulley is standing on his porch, and he waves to them, then walks out to meet them. “Hey, boys,” Tulley says with a bright smile.
Dean remembers Tulley always smiling. When he was in the middle of the last imp infestation, the guy had cracked a joke about it even as John had stitched up Tulley's leg after he'd fallen through a broken board in his barn, his leg going through and getting scraped up.
“Hello, sir,” Dean says as he shakes Tulley's outstretched hand.
“And who is this gorgeous young lady?” Tulley says. He's got more gray in his hair than Dean remembered from last time, but his scruffy beard still has some dark brown in it.
Charlie giggles as Tulley takes her hand in his and kisses the back of her hand. “I'm Charlie,” she says.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie,” Tulley says. “I hope these boys are treating you right,” he says as he eyes up Sam and Dean.
Dean's breath catches, his stomach clenching. Other than clerks in grocery stores, Tulley is the first one to refer to Dean as a male in weeks, and it tugs at something in Dean. He'd gotten used to Sam and Charlie going with the flow, letting him be who he wanted to be, not pressuring him either way, and being so awesome about it that he'd gotten used to it.
It's a smack in the face, even though he knows he should have expected it. He's wearing panties, but other than that, everything about him says male. Tulley had no way of knowing, and Dean didn't even think he wanted Tulley to know.
The fact that Dean still can't refer to himself as she wasn't a big thing to him. Well, it was and it wasn't. He knew he'd get there one day, but it wasn't something he actively thought about all the time. To have Tulley refer to him as one of the boys was something Dean should have been ready for, and he kicks himself for letting his guard down that much.
“They spoil me, Mr. Tulley,” Charlie says, leaning to her left and smashing into Dean's right side.
Dean smiles. “We do, sir,” he says as he looks down at Charlie.
“Well, I suppose I should get out of your hair, kids,” Tulley says. “I sent the wife to her sister's yesterday afternoon when I realized what was going on, and I'm about to head that way myself, as per your instructions.”
“Thanks, Tulley,” Sam says. “We don't mean to throw you out of your own house, but –,”
“Don't worry about it,” Tulley says, waving off Sam's polite excuses. “I understand this is what you boys do, and I don't want to get in the way. Just let me know when me and the wife can come back home. Everything's unlocked at the moment, but here's the key if you need it,” he says as he hands Dean the key.
“Have a nice visit with the in-laws,” Dean teases, knowing Tulley's brother-in-law is a little hard to get along with.
Tulley rolls his eyes. “Can't wait,” he grumbles. “Oh, and there's an envelope on the kitchen table for you. I'm confident you'll take care of our problem, and I really do appreciate it.”
“You don't have to –,” Dean starts.
“Nothin' doin',” Tulley says as he claps Dean on the shoulder. “Token of my appreciation, and you'll accept it graciously and not insult me by fightin' me on it, understood?” he says as he raises an eyebrow.
Dean chuckles, then nods. “Okay, well, thank you, sir,” he says.
“Keep safe,” Tulley says as he waves, heading off toward his pickup truck.
The three of them wave, then Sam goes to the car, pulling out a few weapons from the trunk. Dean grabs Charlie's hand, and together they walk toward the barn. They do a full check of the outside of the barn, looking at the integrity of the building and the basic shape, checking for holes in the wood and ground around it. It's around forty feet wide by maybe one hundred feet long, and they can see that it has a loft area.
“I'm looking for any evidence the imps have been active outside first,” Dean says halfway through their circuit around the barn, remembering Charlie's new to this and needs to know the hows and whys.
“Kind of like that?” Charlie asks as she points to a mound of fresh dirt against the back of the barn.
Dean smiles as he nods. “Exactly,” he says, walking her over to the mound, but staying a few feet back. It's been built up against the wood to a height of about one and a half feet. “Not many people would notice something like that. You're a natural,” Dean says as he squeezes her hand.
She gives him a big smile in return. “Are you going to do anything to it?”
“Not right now,” Dean says. “If that's their way in or out of the barn, I'll keep it in mind, but I don't want to make any big changes to what they've done yet.”
“Okay,” Charlie says, then walks along with him as they come back around to the front of the barn.
Sam's there, and he hands Charlie her flamethrower and a cattle prod with a nearly four-foot reach, Dean his gun and hatchet. Sam's left with the taser clipped to his jeans, a handgun, and a modified hatchet that has blades on both side of the head instead of just a blade and a blunt side. Charlie puts the strap of the flamethrower over her shoulder so she can hold her flashlight with a free hand.
“I'll take point,” Dean says. “Charlie, you stay between us at all times, and Sam will take the rear. Keep vocal about anything you see or if you feel anything odd. Instinct might kick in for you, and if it does, speak up about it. Gut feelings have kept us alive more than once. Keep your voice low, watch for hand signals from me and Sam.”
“Gotcha,” Charlie says, looking a little apprehensive but there's excitement in her eyes too.
Dean opens the barn door, his flashlight on, and checks inside for anything obvious before stepping in. He hears Charlie and Sam moving behind him, each of them taking in their surroundings, three beams of light panning around the inside of the barn.
There's not much in the barn. Tulley doesn't have animals anymore since he and his wife were getting older and made enough money from their home business to keep them living comfortably. The rusty Studebaker Tulley's had forever is covered with a tarp in the middle of the barn.
Dean's flashlight shines over a few stacks of boxes toward the far right of the barn, but nothing is out of the ordinary from this distance. There's a workbench to their left with neatly arranged tools hung on a peg board above it.
Dean glances at both Charlie and Sam, looking for any sign of something odd they may have picked up on. A subtle shake of Sam's head lets him know Sam hasn't seen anything and Charlie shrugs.
They walk toward the center of the barn, Dean's flashlight sweeping the far left corner, Charlie looking under the Studebaker from a distance in case there's something under there, and Sam is checking out the boxes Dean saw to the right.
Dean freezes as he hears a soft click, then swallows a yelp as a sudden and sharp pain flares in his right calf. He hisses out a “fuck,” letting Sam know something's wrong, but also letting him know t's not serious enough to drop everything and run to him.
He hears Sam working his way over to him, most likely sweeping the area so they don't get caught unaware, and keeping an eye on Charlie. Dean looks down, his flashlight finding blood on his blue jeans, a small stick coming out of his calf. There's not an alarming amount of blood, but Dean hopes the stick wasn't tipped with anything poisonous.
Keeping alert to his surroundings, Dean crouches and pulls the stick out of his leg. It burns more than it should, and when he looks at the end of the stick, it's obviously been whittled into a little javelin. When Dean senses Sam coming up to him, he keeps his eyes on his surroundings as he holds the stick up for Sam to take.
Sam takes the stick, and Dean can hear Sam sniff the end of it, checking for any substance he might be able to smell that might be dangerous.
Dean glances up at Sam to see Sam's expression, which says he doesn't smell anything, but he pockets the stick anyway. Dean stands, his leg not happy with moving, but it won't kill him. Dean sees Charlie moving around the Studebaker still, pointing her flashlight at it and looking as if she really wants to pull the tarp off the thing.
He motions to Sam, letting him know he's going to check out the car with Charlie and that he wants Sam to have their back. Sam nods.
Dean walks up next to Charlie, and the look she gives him sends chills up his spine. He raises his eyebrows in a question.
She points at her stomach then the car, and it takes a moment, but Dean gets it that she's got a gut feeling about the car. He nods, then waves her back, glances over at Sam, pointing toward the car to let Sam know he's going to take the tarp off. Sam nods and steps back a few feet so he can get as much of the barn in his peripheral vision as possible.
Dean pulls hard on the tarp to get it off the car quickly. Charlie's light shines into the back of the car while Dean aims his into the front seat. Charlie grabs his shirt and yanks a little, so he makes sure to check that the front seat doesn't have immediate dangers as quickly as possible, then takes a step toward the back door, holding his flashlight so he can see into the foot wells of the back seat.
It's filled with dirt, boards, and what looks like some of Tulley's flannel shirts torn into pieces. Dean lifts his left hand up high enough to get Sam's attention, then points down to the back seat of the car, letting Sam know he's found something and is about to check into it.
Dean doesn't bother glancing at Sam. Years of working together gives them an almost sixth sense about each other, and Dean knows Sam saw him by the soft hiss Sam just let out, and he knows Sam is keeping an eye on everything he can.
Charlie stays back, but her light continues to shine into the back seat. Dean pulls the back door open, shining his flashlight down into the foot well of the passenger side, which is closest to him, in case something's ready to jump out and bite him.
Nothing's there but more of the dirt and flannel shirt pieces. Dean holds out his hatchet, shoving the shirts to see if anything's in them before daring to get his hands anywhere near them.
Sam's gun fires, Charlie yelps, and Dean spins to see that Sam has killed one of the imps as it was crawling out from under the car. It had been about a foot away from Charlie.
Dean turns too late, and something hits him in the left chest. He sees it out of the corner of his eye, coming from the mass of shirt pieces, but he's on his back before he has a chance to do anything about it.
A flare of pain spreads from where the thing hit him in his chest, but there's a blur of movement too fast for Dean to follow, and just as he thinks possibly the stick did have something on it that's affecting him, he hears Charlie scream Sam's name, Sam yelling “Dee,” and then the world goes dark.
- - -
Next: Part 5
