Her Turn Part 2

[mayalaen]

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Master Post || Prologue || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || Epilogue || Notes



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.

- - -
Dean wakes to pain all throughout his body. He hasn't opened his eyes, but he wants to cry because it just hurts so badly. He hears himself whimpering, but he can't stop himself. It's everywhere. He can't pinpoint any area in his body that hurts worse than another, which makes it hard to control his reaction to it.

He tries. He really does. But not having a focus point makes him flounder, and he knows he hits something with his hand, and he starts to panic when he feels his arms being held down.

Dean opens his eyes, then squeezes them closed again because the light makes the pain in his eyes even worse. He's kicking his feet, writhing around, but something's holding him securely.

He finally hears someone talking to him. He wants to listen. He knows it's important. The voice is demanding he listen, but he hurts so badly all over, and he's trapped by arms wrapped around him, and he's scared because this just isn't right.

“Calm down, Dee,” Dean hears Sam's voice say near his right ear, feels the warmth of breath ghosting over his ear. “It's me. It's Sam. You're okay. You're in Tulley's house, in his bed. I'm right here. Charlie's here. You just need to calm down. You're okay.”

There's shooting pain going everywhere. He thinks his muscles are contracting, because it feels like his whole body is one giant charleyhorse. Sam's telling him to calm down, so things must not be as bad as they feel. He trusts Sam to not lie to him if something's horribly wrong. If he was badly wounded, Sam would try to calm him down, but he wouldn't try to convince Dean he was okay.

Dean forces himself to stop flailing, but he's still whimpering, and he realizes he's shivering now that he's stopped flopping about. “Hurts,” Dean hisses.

“Where does it hurt?” Sam asks.

“Everywhere,” Dean whines, panting hard, his teeth chattering like he's cold. In fact he is cold, now that he thinks about it. There's ice going through his veins, and that can't be good for the muscle spasms.

“Okay, you're going to be okay,” Sam says soothingly. “You've been out of it for a while, and I called around, got some info about imp bites.”

“Fuck,” Dean groans as he shivers so hard he bites his tongue. “It fucking bit me?”

“Are you cold?” Charlie asks.

Dean knows he was worried about her before, terrified something was happening to her, but he can't remember why. Now that he hears her voice, the part of his brain screaming at him that somebody else might be hurt finally settles.

“Yeah,” Dean says, and he swears his lips have to be blue. How can they not tell he's freezing instead of just a little cold? “Cold!” he whimpers.

He feels a blanket being thrown over him, Sam's arms still holding him down. He attempts opening his eyes again, and this time the light isn't stabbing into his brain, so he squints, sees Charlie hovering over him just out of flailing distance.

He'd hit something before. Shit. “Did I hit you?” Dean asks her.

“You hit Sam,” Charlie says with a wince.

“I'll live,” Sam says.

“Good,” Dean says, thankful for the distraction from the pain. “I hate it when you die.”

Sam chuckles, and Dean feels Sam's breath on the back of his head. He realizes Sam is lying behind him on the bed, arms wrapped around Dean from behind, and Sam's right leg is thrown over his to keep him from kicking.

“So, what the fuck?” Dean says through clenched teeth.

“It's not a well-known fact,” Sam says, “but imp saliva is toxic.”

“Fuck, now you tell me,” Dean says, the shivers and muscle spasms making him jerk, nearly make him bite his lip.

“It's gonna hurt like hell,” Sam says, and Dean snorts, “but it'll only last for a few hours, and you'll be okay.”

“Yay me,” Dean grumbles.

“I'm pretty sure the stick was tipped with spit, and then the one that jumped out of the car bit you in the chest,” Sam says.

“I felt that,” Dean says.

Charlie looks worried. He thinks she's not freaking out, but it looks like it's taking effort on her part to keep calm. He wants to comfort her, but it's all he can do to keep from crying from the pain and keeping up the conversation.

“From what I learned,” Sam continues, “it's a self-defense mechanism. It probably would've bitten Charlie had I not shot the first one, and when the other one bit you, it gave you a big enough dose to knock you right out.”

“You guys are okay?” Dean asks as he looks Charlie over. He can only see her from the waist up, but she looks okay.

“We're okay,” Sam reassures him. “And Charlie was awesome!”

Charlie blushes, and Dean wishes he could kiss her. The worried look on her face softens into something that looks like a little bit of pride. Dean figures she's taking his ability to speak as a good sign that he'll live.

“She knocked the fucker off you with the cattle prod, shocked it, then when it was rolling around in the dirt next to you, she hacked its head off with your hatchet,” Sam says, and Dean can hear how proud Sam is of Charlie.

“I knew you were a natural, baby,” Dean says with as much of a smile as he can with his teeth chattering.

“It was latched onto you,” Charlie says, her voice a little shaky, and it almost looks like she's about to cry, but she's obviously trying to keep it together. “That creepy little thing had teeth like a shark, and when you passed out, I thought...,” she says, then trails off, her lip wobbling a little.

“Charlie got done killing the fucker,” Sam says, “then she turns and rips your shirt open as I'm checking for a pulse. As soon as I say you're alive, she uses your shirt to wipe out the bite, probably saving you a few hours of more intense pain.”

“That's my girl,” Dean says, looking up at her with adoration he hopes she can see.

She lets out a watery chuckle, still keeping it together, but just barely. He knows she wants to be strong and brave. She's a tough girl and she did wonderfully.

“I'm still really cold,” Dean says. “I think I need somebody to share their body heat from the front since Sam's got my back, and it feels nice back there,” Dean says with as much of a grin as he can muster.

Charlie jumps up, takes her shoes off, and climbs under the covers, snuggling up against Dean, burying her head under his chin, wrapping her left arm around him, her right arm scrunched up in between them.

“Mmm,” Dean moans. “Much better.”

“I'm not sure how long it's going to last,” Sam says, “but what you're feeling now should be the worst of it.”

Dean moans. He really should be happy. It hurts like hell, just like Sam said it would, but Dean had learned long ago that things could always get worse, so he soaks up the warmth offered by the two people who love him most in the world and tries to focus on them rather than the pain.

He starts to lose his focus, thought, and the muscle spasms get worse, his body jerking, and he whimpers as he tries to pick something to focus on.

“Once upon a time,” Charlie starts, “a very brave woman named Codex had been imprisoned and sentenced to execution in a town named Helgen. Just as she's being led out to be executed, a dragon attacks the town, destroying it. Codex escapes, making her way to a city named Whiterun.”

Dean's instantly focused on Charlie's words. He knows what she's trying to do, and he could kiss her for helping him. He has no idea what she's talking about, but it sounds interesting, and it's working. His breathing is calming down, his muscles relaxing some even though they're still spasming and cramping, and he closes his eyes to create a visual of Charlie's story.

- - -

“Drink,” Sam insists, pointing at the tea on the table in front of Dean.

“It tastes like shit,” Dean whines, trying for pathetic, but Sam and Charlie both seem unimpressed.

He's still a little chilled, but he's feeling tons better than a few hours ago. Charlie has made him a sandwich, but for some reason, which Sam thoroughly explained and Dean paid no attention to, Sam says Dean needs to drink the horrible-tasting tea in front of him. And he's holding Dean's sandwich for ransom.

Dean grumbles, but finishes half the mug of tea. Sam sets the sandwich down as a reward, but taps his finger onto the table next to the mug, letting Dean know he needs to finish the tea.

Charlie tilts her head toward the manilla envelope on the kitchen table. “So?”

Sam picks it up, opens it, and pulls out a paper with a handwritten note on it. He holds the paper out, reading from it. “I never got the chance to tell your daddy how much I appreciated the phone call when my daughter Elaina died. John cleared out that imp infestation years ago, kept in touch every once in a while to see how we all were doing, and after he found out about Elaina, he called me to offer his condolences and asked if I needed anything.

That meant the world to me and Linda. I was so messed up at the time that I took his advice, his condolences, thanked him, and said goodbye. I found out a few months later that he died, and I wished I had given him a call, let him know how close I was to calling it quits and leaving behind a wife to grieve not only for her daughter, but also her husband. That would've been a very selfish move on my part.

What he said to me changed my life, and that debt can never be repaid. I hope you don't think I'm putting a price on what your daddy did for me, but Linda and I have done well for ourselves, we've talked about this, and we decided you boys and your daddy have dedicated your lives to doing what the rest of us can't, so we want you to have this.

The checkbook in the envelope goes to a account. Linda and I have switched the account over from a high-interest savings account to a checking account. We also switched the names on the account to the names on the IDs we left inside the checkbook with your pictures on them. You boys can either leave the money in the account and use the checks and debit cards or you can take the money and close the account.

I don't want to hear anything about it being too much. Linda and I had set a big initial amount of money aside for Elaina when she was born, put it in a savings account, added to it every month like clockwork, and paid into it even after she died because we couldn't bring ourselves to stop until shortly after your daddy died.

Elaina would've been seventeen by then. She'd wanted to be a doctor since she was about four years old. She'd broken her arm, and the local doctor fixed her up. From that moment on she wanted to help people like the doctor had helped her.

Elaina's gone, and I've made peace with that, but we want our baby's money to do good, and I can't think of anybody else who touched my life the way your daddy did or anybody who uses all their resources and damn near every ounce of themselves to save people who may never even know they were saved in the first place. It's a hell of a lot more thankless than being a doctor.

Don't be a stranger. If you boys pass through the state on your travels, stop in and stay. We'll set you up as long as you want. If we ever have anything else hinky happen around these parts, I'll be calling you.

Thanks again for everything, Randy and Linda Tulley.”

“Huh,” Dean grunts. He looks over at Charlie, sees her surreptitiously wipe a tear from her eye.

Sam shoves his hand into the envelope, looking at Dean. “I didn't realize Dad called Tulley every now and then, did you?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, but I did know Elaina died. Dad told me about it,” Dean says as Sam pulls the checkbook out.

“Oh, my god,” Sam breathes, turning white and holding himself up with a hand on the table.

“Care to share, Sammy?” Dean says.

“I, we can't, I d-don't,” Sam stutters, then shoves the checkbook into Dean's hands.

“Holy shit,” Dean whispers. He runs his hand over his face, scrubbing his eyes a bit, then looks at the number again. He looks up at Sam, at Charlie, then back to Sam. “You read the letter. You know him. You saw how he acted before he left. I... We have to take it. I can't believe this, but we can't tell him no.”

“The suspense is killing me here,” Charlie says, snatching the checkbook from Dean's hand.

“Holy shit,” Charlie gasps, then continues in a stunned monotone, “Six hundred and fifty-two thousand, five hundred and twelve dollars and forty-nine cents.”

“Dee,” Sam says, his mouth working like he wants to say something, anything, but he can't find the words.

Charlie starts laughing hysterically, and both Dean and Sam turn to look at her. She holds up the IDs with their faces smiling back at them.

“Stu Cook and Doug Clifford just got a shitload of money,” she says, barely controlling her laughter.

Dean snorts, then starts chuckling. “Tulley's a CCR fan.”

Sam's lips twitch into a grin. “I suppose John and Tom Fogerty would've been too obvious, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, still too stunned to say much of anything.

“Can we do this?” Sam asks, sounding conflicted.

Charlie sets the IDs down on the table. “They've already changed the names on the account,” Charlie says. “Mr. and Mrs. Tulley can't get to this money anymore even if they wanted to. That seems like a pretty strong indicator that they want you to have it.”

“Well, I guess we don't have to worry about money for a while,” Dean says, a smile spreading across his lips.

Sam huffs. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow,” Dean says. Then he chuckles and points at Sam. “You've been doing the sad puppy face too many times over the years. It caught up with you. Is Sammy a good boy?” he asks in a ridiculous voice people use for their dogs.

Charlie snorts as Sam looks to where Dean is pointing and sees his own tail is wagging happily. “It's actually kind of twitching,” she says. “That's how cats show they're perturbed over something.”

“Actually,” Dean says, pausing for emphasis, “rats move their tails like that they're checking out something new.”

“Very funny,” Sam says, rolling his eyes.

Charlie giggles. “I'm so gonna start calling you Remy!”

Dean chuckles as he stands, his legs still a little shaky from what the imp toxin did to his muscles. He claps Sam's shoulder in mock concern. “Consider it a compliment that, while I hate most rats, I don't mind if you hang around, Sammy.”

- - -

Two weeks later they've settled into a routine of sorts. Sam has become quite the homemaker, still trying out new recipes while Charlie has been working on coding a new program, and Dean has been doing a spring cleaning of the bunker.

Dean's spent the last twenty-five minutes in the shower, enjoying the hot water after a day of dusting and mopping, and he still isn't done. He's in his pajama pants and a ratty old dark blue T-shirt, wishing he had socks on since his feet are a little cold as he walks from the kitchen to his room. He's taking gourmet sandwiches upstairs that Sam had worked on for a while.

Sam suggested Dean take the sandwiches to his room since he and Charlie had worked hard all day, and Dean was more than happy to do that.

Dean nearly drops the plates when he opens his door to see Charlie leaning against the bed in nothing but her strap-on and a black lacy bra. He regains his composure somewhat and manages to get the door closed, sets the plates on the dresser, and then turns to drool over Charlie.

“I wanna fuck you in your skirt,” Charlie says as she runs her hand over the dildo attached to her strap-on. “Please let me fuck your ass in your pretty new skirt,” she says, her voice getting deeper with arousal.

Dean's busy watching her fondle the dildo, which is new to them. It's dark gray, straight, and is more like a cock than the other two dildos they have for the strap-on. This one has a head like a normal cock, but then two more ridges that look like the ridge around the head of a cock. There are also vertical rows of ridges starting at the frenulum and going to the base of the dildo.

He shakes himself out of the staring contest with the dildo to look at Charlie. “Uhm, oh, yeah!” he says as he gets a mental picture of himself being fucked in the skirt and decides he really likes the idea. “Hell, yeah!”

Dean nearly rips the sleep pants off, pulls the shirt off, tossing both pieces of clothing into the corner of the room the moment he has them off.

“Do you want me to wear panties?” he asks as he gets the skirt out of his dresser drawer, his cock already half hard.

“No, just the skirt,” Charlie says, and Dean can only describe Charlie's voice as sultry.

He had been so excited over getting into the skirt, he hadn't thought to give Charlie a little strip tease, so he makes a mental note to do that next time. He steps into the skirt, pulls it up his hips, then zips and fastens it, closing the drawer quickly.

“Do you want me to wear a top or just the skirt?” he asks, looking at her over his shoulder, his hand still on the handle of the drawer.

“Just the skirt,” Charlie repeats. “I want you to put your hands on the desk, stick your ass out toward me, and spread your legs.

Dean nearly trips over himself obeying her. She makes him feel so sexy, so comfortable. He arches his back some, pushes his ass out, and spreads his legs to about shoulder width.

“Mmm, yeah, like that,” Charlie moans.

Dean knows that moan. It's the one that means she's enjoyed something enough that her clit has twitched. It thrills him to know that the sight of him like this is what did it for her.

She doesn't have shoes on, but he hears her come up behind him, her feet making soft sounds on the floor. He shivers when she runs a finger down his back, then up to his left shoulder.

“You look so pretty in this skirt, Dee,” Charlie says, affection heavy in her tone of voice. Her hand smooths over his left side, down the side of his skirt, then tickles his left upper thigh. “Oh, fuck, yes! When did you shave?” Charlie asks, her voice so thick with arousal suddenly that Dean goes from hard to painfully hard.

“I did it just now in the shower,” Dean says, a little smirk on his face. He knew it would surprise her, but he didn't know how excited over it she'd be.

“Your legs are so soft,” she says, and from where her voice is coming from, he can tell she's crouching behind him. She runs her fingers over his calves and thighs.

“Mmm,” Dean moans, and suddenly all his nervousness about having shaved his legs in the first place dies away.

Dean hisses as Charlie licks the back of his right thigh, working her way up to his right ass cheek, giving him a quick bite, then kissing the skin she bit.

“Beautiful,” she breathes out over his skin. “Such a beautiful girl.”

Dean shivers, feeling more exposed in just the skirt than if he'd been naked. The material is skating across his ass cheeks, his dick, and his thighs, and he feels like he's being objectified in a good way because Charlie's so focused on him.

Charlie stands back up, and he hears her walk somewhere over to his right. He hears her moving the mirror, and when he looks, he feels a pulse of arousal run through him. She's turning the mirror and setting it up against the wall so that they can watch everything.

“Fuck,” Dean breathes. He looks at himself in the mirror. He likes the way the skirt falls over his ass, brushes against his upper thighs. He can't wait to see the two of them fucking in the mirror.

Charlie finishes moving the mirror and grins at him. “Thought you might like that,” she says, then stalks back over to him.

She snatches the bottle of lube from the top of the dresser. Dean had been so carefully attentive to what Charlie was doing that he hadn't noticed the bottle until she grabbed it.

He hears Charlie walk behind him, but when he turns to look at them in the mirror, she's standing a few feet behind him, looking him over head to toe. Dean pushes his ass out a little more, knowing that she's watching, and he grins when he sees her bite her lip as her eyes focus on his ass.

Dean watches her step forward, then use her index finger to catch just the edge of his skirt and raise it. She's still standing back a bit, and it looks so hot to see her peeking under his skirt that he has to push down on his erection to back his arousal off some.

“Perfect ass,” Charlie says, almost like she's just making a comment to herself.

Dean watches as she flips the rest of the skirt up over his lower back, then she pours some lube onto her fingers. He moans loudly when she shoves two fingers into him. It's a burning stretch, but she would never hurt him. And Dean gets a kick out of imagining that Charlie's so ready to fuck him that she can't go slowly.

He gasps when she pushes a third finger in. She hasn't been stretching him more than a few seconds, so three fingers is burning enough to make his thighs quiver. Dean likes sex, rough or otherwise, and so he just arches his back more to make a better target for Charlie.

“Good girl,” Charlie whispers.

She finds his prostate and pushes down hard with a stroke over it. Dean yelps so loudly that he sees Charlie's eyes widen and she pauses.

“I'm okay,” Dean says. “Felt really good,” he says with a chuckle.

Charlie smiles at him in the mirror. “Awesome,” she says, giving him two more rough strokes over his prostate before she pulls her fingers out. “Ready?”

Dean nods. “Fuck me,” he says, widening his stance a little more. He then lets out another yelp as Charlie smacks his right ass cheek.

“That wasn't very polite or lady-like,” Charlie scolds.

“Sorry, ma'am,” Dean says, a smirk on his face. “Please fuck me,” he moans out in a tone of voice he knows gets to her, turns her on quickly.

It has the desired effect. Her eyes close for a moment, and Dean knows if he was close enough to touch, he'd feel a little tremor run through her body.

“Much better,” Charlie says.

Dean hisses as Charlie starts to push into him. She's not being rough, but she's pushing in steadily, not thrusting in and out to give him a chance to adjust. He breathes through it, enjoying the burn, trying to relax his asshole to let her in.

“I think I like this easy access thing,” Charlie says as she starts fucking in and out of him, ruffling Dean's skirt, then reaching under the front to play with his balls.

Dean huffs. “I'm seeing the appeal,” he says, watching them in the mirror.

He can't decide whether he wants to watch Charlie's face, the dildo fucking him, or Charlie's hand disappearing under his skirt to gently tug and roll his balls. He keeps lingering on her face, though, because he loves watching her really enjoying herself.

Her cheeks are flushed, her hair is gently swaying with each movement, her tits are bouncing just a little each time she bottoms out in Dean's ass. She's beautiful, and he can't believe she's his. That she looks the way she does right now, glowing with lust and arousal, because of him.

“I'm not tall enough to hit your prostate,” Charlie says, looking down at his ass and frowning. “Spread your legs some more for me.”

Dean spreads his legs wide, and Charlie makes a happy little moan of appreciation. She swivels her hips around a few times, getting up on her toes and back down again trying to get the right spot. He gasps when she hits his prostate.

“There's the spot I was looking for,” Charlie coos, her right hand moving to his cock.

There's no lube on her hand, so it's more of a tugging sensation than anything else, but he doesn't care, and when she runs her thumb over the tip of his dick, he hisses through his clenched teeth.

Charlie chuckles deeply, her voice sounding wrecked. “We're going to have to clean this skirt if you get it all messy,” she sing-songs.

“Please,” Dean begs. “Faster, please!” he whines as he tries to thrust back at Charlie.

“Mmm, you're close already, aren't you,” she says, fully aware she's driving him crazy with the slow thrusting.

She speeds up and Dean lets out a sob of relief. “Yeah, that,” he says, meeting her thrusts.

Charlie leans over and kisses his spine between his shoulder blades, her left hand reaching around to tweak his nipple. The things she does to him, how high she gets him is almost scary to him.

Sure, he's been with a lot of women, but he's never had anyone play him like an accomplished musician plays an instrument before. She gets him inside and out, and considering they haven't known each other a relatively long time, it's enough to convince him that maybe some of what he thought of romance when he was a kid is true.

There are no fairy tales. Nothing's ever perfect. There's always going to be problems. But what they have so far, so early in the game? It's magical.

“I want to hear you come,” Charlie says, thrusting faster, punching a grunt out of Dean when she hits his prostate on an in-stroke. “I want to hear you fall apart while I'm fucking you,” she growls, and the grip and stroking on his dick is just to the right side of awesome. “I want you to get this skirt so messy that we'll have no choice but to wash it.”

Dean moans long and hard, his legs trembling from the position he's in and the fucking he's getting. His nails are digging into the wood of his dresser, his teeth are clenched, and he's panting.

“Or maybe I'll make you wear it like that,” Charlie says with a very evil tone to her voice. “Yeah. That's what I'll do. I'll make you wear your messy skirt with nothing on under it so I can take a peek any time I want.”

“Oh, fuck,” Dean growls.

“I'll make you do the dishes in nothing but the skirt,” Charlie whispers and Dean whimpers. “I'll stand back and watch as you wash each and every single piece of dinnerware while I cop a feel any time I want, and I'll lift your pretty little skirt as I walk by so I can pinch that beautiful ass, making you squirm and squeak.”

Dean's eyes are closed. He's not bothering to look in the mirror anymore. He's drowning in her words, the visual she's giving him. Her hips are smacking into his ass, the dildo is making an obscene noise as it fucks in and out of him, and Dean's whimpering is turning into a keening sound.

“You'll be working so hard for me,” Charlie continues, twisting her hips to catch his prostate every once in a while. “And if you miss a spot, I'll use a spatula to smack that little ass of yours.”

Dean makes a moaning noise he swears he's never made before. It's so wanton, so fucking aroused that he's amazed it came from him.

“Then I'll slither around down by your legs,” she says, scratching her nails down his spine, not hard enough to break the skin, but it's enough to make him squirm. “Then I'll suck you off while you finish washing the dishes, my legs spread wide and my fingers in my pussy as you try not to break all the dishes you're washing.”

Dean's whole body tenses. Her comment about her fingers in her pussy pushed him close enough to the edge that the next hit on his prostate he's coming so hard he yells. “Charlie! Fuck, oh, fuck, Charlie!” he yells as he comes, and he feels her fingers holding his dick under the skirt, making sure he's coming all over the underside of the skirt.

She fucks him hard through his orgasm, his legs shaking so hard he grabs onto the dresser tighter so he doesn't fall. A noise like a sob comes out of him as he comes down, his body oversensitized and floating on a haze of awesome feelings.

Charlie kisses him on his back again, then uses her left hand to hold onto his hip. “My turn,” she says, and now that he's looking in the mirror again, he sees a big grin on her face.

Dean hisses as she starts fucking him harder. He's thankful she's not doing anything to his dick other than holding it. They've played with that a few times, but they've never done it while he's standing, and he doesn't know if he'd be able to keep himself upright if she stroked him while he's so sensitive.

He watches her in the mirror, looking at the way her legs are moving, the muscles in her thighs and calves, the side of her right ass cheek. “You're so fucking sexy,” he tells her.

He makes eye contact with her in the mirror, sees that she's glistening a little with sweat. She's so damned beautiful that he could never find the right way to tell her exactly how he feels.

“So beautiful,” he groans. “Love watching your ass and thigh while you fuck me. Wanna bite that ass,” he says with a grin.

“Mmm, I'll take you up on that later,” she says with a wink, her voice sounding even more wrecked than it had a few minutes ago.

“I wanna lick you clean,” Dean says, watching the dildo fucking him again, thinking about how the other end of that is fucking her pussy. “I wanna spread you wide and make you come again after you're done fucking me. I wanna shove my tongue as far inside as I can, and then I wanna suck on your clit until you come all over my face.”

“Fuck, Dee! Yeah!” Charlie yelps as she starts coming.

She's fucking him so hard that it's a little painful, but it's totally worth it to watch her fall apart, her rhythm slipping, her eyes falling closed, her mouth open as she pants and moans her way through her orgasm.

Before she's even done coming, he pulls off of her dildo, turns, picks her up, and tosses her on the bed. Her eyes are wide, but she's got a grin on her face. Dean shoves her legs apart, then undoes the buckles of her strap-on.

He gently pulls the dildo out of her, drops it onto the floor next to the bed. She's still panting, her thighs shaking. He gets down onto his knees next to the bed, then pulls her closer, her ass hanging halfway off the edge of the bed.

She yelps as he shoves his tongue into her pussy. “Oh, Dee, yeah, that tongue, yeah, it's, fuck!” Charlie groans as she pushes her pussy into his face, trying to get more.

Dean moans into her, then he can't help but smile a little as he feels her shiver underneath him. She's making little 'oh, oh' sounds that are giving him a semi again already.

He's learned the combinations she likes, how hard she likes certain things, how soft she likes others, and he keeps her off balance a bit as he flicks her clit too softly to make her come, shoves the flat of his tongue over her clit hard enough to back her off of the edge, then goes right back to flicking her clit just the way she likes. He wants to make her beg. And by the way her thighs are trembling, she's about to break and beg to come.

A staccato keening sound comes from what sounds like her open mouth, and Dean gives himself a pat on the back for getting her to the point where he knows she's wasted enough on arousal to have her eyes closed, her arms thrown out to the sides, and her mouth agape.

He doesn't even need to see her to know she's got her head tilted back, arching her neck and back, her stomach and chest heaving, and cute little frown lines appearing on her forehead because what she really wants to do is demand he get her off, but she's not quite frustrated enough to voice her demand.

“Dee, please!” Charlie finally breaks. “Please! I wanna come! Please make me come! Please! Oh!” she begs in a voice that's flipping back and forth between growly and breathy, her voice cracking on a few of the words.

Dean shoves his tongue into her hole, ignoring her clit for the moment, knowing it'll make her even more demanding at this point. He wiggles his tongue, then fucks it in and out at a pace that's not too fast, not too slow.

Her legs fall even further apart, her hips tilting to give him more room even though he has plenty, and he knows she's trying to get him deeper now that his tongue is in her hole, but he's not going to use his fingers yet.

Charlie lets out a loud growl of frustration. “I know what you're doing, Dee Winchester!”

Dean is so surprised by hearing his new full name that he pauses for a moment. It's the first time anyone has said “her” full name. His eyes burn, but he goes back to pleasuring Charlie. He doesn't want her to know how much that affected him.

He decides he really likes it. He wants it. He suddenly has a strong urge to change the name on a few of his IDs to read Dee Winchester. Okay, maybe Dee Winchester on just an ID that he keeps in his dresser drawer to take out and stare at every now and then. But it feels so right, and he has a craving for hearing it again, seeing it written down like it's something permanent.

Dean flicks his tongue against her clit, and he hears Charlie's voice change from whining to encouraging.

“Yeah!” she says, then makes a happy “mmm” sound. “Right there. Fuck, yeah. I wanna come, Dee. Please make me come!”

He works on her clit, doing it just the way he knows she likes best when she's about to come. Her thighs are shaking again, and she moves her feet to his shoulders, something he really likes because he can feel her toes flexing, digging into his shoulders like she can draw him closer, get him further inside.

Her body shifts, and when he takes a peek up at her, she's gotten to her elbows so she can watch him. She's panting hard, her chest heaving, and her teeth are clenched. Her hair's all over the place from writhing on the bed, and she looks gorgeous.

Dean picks up speed, flicking her clit as fast as he can, and he feels her pussy clenching as she starts coming.

“Dee!” Charlie growls, and he watches her as she tries to keep eye contact with him, the little frown lines on her forehead making an appearance again. “Fuck! Yeah! Dee!” Charlie screams as she comes.

She finally loses the battle of keeping eye contact with him as her eyes slam shut and she flops backward on the bed, her belly and hips twitching up at him.

He licks her through her orgasm, gentling as she comes down, then softly licks out her hole so he can taste more of her, but keeping it slow and soft so it doesn't stimulate her already oversensitized pussy too much.

“Wanna kiss you,” Charlie says.

Dean looks up to see her hands are outstretched, her fingers doing grabby hands, and he chuckles as he stands up. She scoots back on the bed to give him room to get on his knees on the end of the bed. He puts his hands on the bed on either side of her chest, leans down, and shares the last lick of her pussy with her.

She loves tasting herself on him, and he gets a huge kick out of her loving tasting herself on him. She sucks on his tongue, moaning and squirming beneath him. Her tongue flits about in his mouth, running along the roof of his mouth.

He slides off to her right side, wrapping his right leg over hers, his right arm wrapping around her tummy, and he rests his head on her right arm, snuggling in.

“Somebody's hard again,” Charlie sing-songs, her voice completely wrecked.

“Mmm, yeah, because you're so fucking hot,” Dean mumbles into her neck.

He lets his right hand wander from her belly down to her pussy, and she squeaks when he gently pushes his fingers between her lips. She doesn't pull away, so he uses his middle and ring fingers to gently push into her hole, keeping away from her clit because she's still sensitive.

Dean pushes his hard cock into her hip, riding it lazily as he slowly fingerfucks her. He doesn't know if either one of them will come again. He's just content to still have the connection, to feel her body beneath his, relaxing and melting against him.

She turns her head, snuffling his hair and making him smile. He tilts his head, looks up at her, and she smiles, her beautiful green eyes so close he feels like he can fall into them. She kisses the tip of his nose, making him chuckle.

“You gonna come again?” she asks, one eyebrow raising.

“Don't care,” he mumbles, leaning in for a kiss.

They kiss for what seems like forever. It's not hungry, not rough. It's just a lazy and casual kiss that's more comforting and connecting than arousing.

“Mmm,” Charlie moans into his mouth as he fingerfucks her a little faster.

He enjoys hearing her react to him, so he uses his thumb to ease her clit into being stimulated again. She tries to spread her legs for him, but since his leg is flung over her right leg, she plants her left foot on the bed and lets her leg fall open.

Dean pushes a little harder into her hip, his cock letting out a little precome, but not much since he's already come once. He likes the feeling of the head of his dick catching on her skin, and when she reaches down with her left hand to play with the head of his cock, he moans into her mouth.

She can't reach his whole cock because of the position they're in, but she massages the head with her hand and fingers, and it feels great as he continues thrusting a little.

They don't say anything, their lips still engaged in kissing. The kiss becomes more intense as the two of them get more and more aroused. Charlie's not moving her body much, just lying back and enjoying the fingerfucking, her left hand working Dean's cock head.

Dean starts fucking into her side harder, his thumb rubbing her clit in a circular motion, his own hips thrusting harder. Charlie changes her hand position enough to jerk off the very end of his cock, and between the dragging sensation he's getting from rubbing against her body and the stimulation at the end of his dick, he's coming, thrusting into her and, against her body, shaking and moaning as Charlie's hand gets so messy with jizz that he can feel the slick as he fucks up into her hand.

By the time his hips slow down, he feels Charlie's hips pushing down on his hand. He moves his hand a little faster, still kissing her, though his own hips have slowed to a very gentle swaying.

She comes with a keening noise, her hips stuttering, her body making a lazy rolling wave motion more than jerking, and her hand squeezing the tip of his dick just enough to make him yelp into her mouth.

Charlie breaks the kiss, and he smirks when he sees she's got a very satisfied smile on her lips. He pulls his fingers out of her, then pushes them into his mouth, making sure she's watching.

“Mmm, I love when you do that,” she moans.

He makes a bit of a show out of it for her, groaning around his fingers, sucking on them. When he's licked them clean, he pulls his fingers out and wraps his arm around her again. He snuggles into her neck and breathes in her scent, feels the warmth of her body seeping into his as their bodies relax into happy, sated puddles.

They lie there for a while, not saying anything, and Dean's eyes close. He's just about to fall asleep when he hears Charlie.

“Dee?” she says softly.

“Yeah, baby?” he replies, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I love you,” she says, and it's not said softly like his name, but rather it's with confidence and conviction.

Dean moans as he lifts his head, looking down at her and smiling. He kisses her gently, letting her know how he feels through the passion in the kiss. She's his, and this confirms it more than ever. He feels his chest swell with emotion and excitement and another empty space filling inside him that he didn't even know existed. He wasn't waiting for her to say she loved him, but now that she's said it, he wonders how he lived without it before.

“I love you,” he says when he pulls away, looking her in the eye, and hoping she knows he's saying it because he means it, not just as a response to her declaration.

She smiles up at him, looking so happy, as if she knows he really means it, that he just has to kiss her again. She pulls away, then grabs the throw blanket that had been tossed to the side while he ate her out. She tries to get it up and over their bodies, but Dean sees her flailing a bit, so he helps, and they get it spread out over the two of them.

They settle, comfortable wrapped up in each other, their heads both falling back down, and Dean nuzzling into her neck again.

He smiles. “I think I love you more, though,” he says, then kisses her neck.

Charlie giggles. “Hmm, I don't think that's possible, because I really think I love you more.”

“We'll have to fight about it in the morning,” Dean mumbles.

“Ooh,” Charlie coos. “Our first fight. Can we have make-up sex?” she asks, her voice low and sounding like she's already half asleep.

“Totally,” Dean mumbles, nearly asleep himself.

- - -

It's a week later, and Sam and Dean have had a long discussion without Charlie there, talking about the pros and cons of including Charlie in the names on the bank accounts.

Dean's somewhat leery of it, and Sam is to some degree as well. But in the end Sam makes the argument that if Charlie really wanted to take the money and run, she could probably do it whether her name was on the account or not because of her computer skills, and Dean makes the argument that even if she were to go ahead and split with the money, they'd been fine all their lives without Tulley's money and they'd be okay if it was gone again.

It's worth it to Sam and Dean also in the sense that if something happens to one or more of them, any surviving members of their trio would be able to get at the money.

Dean and Sam don't think Charlie would cut and run, but because of their lives, and Dean's “abandonment issues,” as Sam calls them, it's necessary to talk about the money situation.

They find her in the library, and Dean sets the bag of cash on the library table, Sam spreading their various ID cards and paperwork out next to the bag of cash.

“I don't know about this,” Charlie says after they explain everything to her, and her eyes widen as she looks between Sam and Dean.

She stands up from her favorite overstuffed chair, leaving her laptop behind, and she walks over to the library table, glancing over the IDs.

“This is a huge responsibility,” she says, her arms going out to the side to demonstrate how ginormous the responsibility is. “Why would you trust me not to skip out with all your money?” she asks, a grimace on her face.

Dean walks over to her, wraps his arms around her, and kisses her temple. “We'd rather take the risk than not. If something ever happens to one or both of us, we'd want you to have the money anyway,” he says, feeling her tense in his arms when he mentions the possibility of something happening to them.

“If you really don't want this to happen,” Sam says with his mediator-slash-laywer face on, as Dean likes to call it, “we won't do this, but we've talked about it,” nodding toward Dean. “We'd like to do this for a lot of reasons, and if you ever change your mind, we can make changes. If you ever decide living with Dee or the both of us is not for you, we'll work it out if it happens.”

Dean pulls out of his hug enough to look down at Charlie, still keeping his left arm around her. “I'd rather that not happen because I really like having you around,” he says, and his chest swells with affection when he sees a blush wash over her cheeks and a little smile twitching onto her lips, “but it's always a possibility, and neither of us want you to feel like you're chained to us. I mean it,” Dean says, looking her in the eye to make sure she really gets this.

She's quiet for a moment, and Dean gives her time to digest the information. Then a big grin spreads across her lips. “You really trust me this much? You want me here this much?” she asks, her voice so hopeful, so full of wonder that it tugs at Dean's heart.

“Yeah,” Dean says, smiling down at her, “I do.”

Sam clears his throat to get their attention. “And I do too,” he says with a smirk.

Charlie giggles, and the look she gives Sam melts Dean's heart. The three of them are becoming a little family here in the bunker, and Dean's thrilled about it.

So all three of them go into three separate big-name banks, spreading Tulley's money between the three banks. All of them are signers on each of the accounts, yet any one of them can walk into any of the banks and withdraw every bit of the money.

They had decided to dress up fairly nicely so that they would look presentable in the banks. Charlie had worn a sundress with a fitted top and broomstick bottom in dark green with deep purple abstract flowers.

Dean and Sam had worn their best jeans, which in both cases were black and had no holes, and instead of shirts and flannels, they wore button down dress shirts from their suits, Dean's being dark maroon and Sam's chocolate brown with little flecks of black throughout the shirt.

As they walk out of the last bank, Sam hands Dean and Charlie each two hundred dollars, then holds up another two hundred dollars, waving it in their faces.

Sam's grin is infectious. “I say we celebrate by going to a restaurant where the napkins are cloth instead of paper and there are real tablecloths instead of red-and-white-checked plastic.”

Dean pats his stomach. “I could go for a steak,” he says.

Charlie smacks Dean's arm. “Sam said real napkins, so that means you can have a steak, but you also get it topped with sauteed onions and mushrooms and it's drizzled with a sauce that has so many calories that they'll refuse to tell you the caloric count!”

“See!” Sam says, smacking Dean's arm in the same spot Charlie had. “She knows how to do celebrating with a nice restaurant,” he says with a mock scowl.

Dean knows this about Charlie, and he loves it about her. He's wanted to take her out to a nice restaurant, knowing she'd appreciate it, and even though this isn't a date between the two of them, Dean's happy to be celebrating with her and Sam.

“We already got all gussied up to look credible at the banks,” Dean says, gesturing toward each of them, and Charlie strikes a pose, showing off her black-strapped wedge shoes. “Why not?” he says, heading off toward the car.

- - -
They had seen Castiel a few times since he'd gotten his grace back, but he hadn't spent much time at the bunker. So when Sam asks Dean to come meet with he and Cas in the library, Dean's happy to see Cas, smiling at him as he walks in.

Cas is sitting in a chair at the library table, relaxed in a way that he never would've been before he'd spent a good amount of time as a human, but there's still something not quite human about him.

Charlie is sitting in her overstuffed chair, and Dean gives her a little wave as he walks in. She has a funny look on her face, and Dean figures Cas has come with news of a hunt they all need to look into. Charlie is new to hunting, and though she's excited and wants to learn, it's an unknown for her.

Sam takes a seat next to Charlie on a library chair he's pulled over there, so Dean settles in the chair on the other side of Charlie that Dean has made his own over the last few weeks.

He likes sitting by Charlie when they're in the library, so he found himself something more like a chaise lounge that's overstuffed like Charlie's chair, but it's long enough to stretch out on, long enough that he can nap on it if he feels like staying with Charlie when he's too tired to keep his eyes open.

Dean looks at each of them in turn, and they're all looking at him. He feels a little put on the spot and slightly anxious. They don't look mad, they don't look upset, but he can't quite put his finger on the mood in the room.

“What's up?” he asks, making eye contact with each of them in turn.

Sam clears his throat. “Well, I asked Cas about my tail,” he says, flicking his tail in the air above his head. “Cas said he can reverse it and take care of the bookmark that gave it to me in the first place.”

“Cool,” Dean says with a smile. “You're gonna miss it, aren't you,” he says with a bit of a chuckle.

Sam huffs. “Yeah, I am,” he says, then looks down at his hands, and Dean notices Sam's playing with his own jeans.

Okay, Dean knows Sam. Sam's definitely nervous, and he's stalling because he doesn't know what to say. Dean needs to help him out. “Spit it out, dude,” Dean says, glancing at Cas and wondering why Cas is being so quiet.

Sam looks up at him. “Cas said that's not the only thing he can change,” he says vaguely, his hands doing a flapping thing that Dean would normally tease him about.

“Okay,” Dean drawls, his eyebrow raising.

Castiel sits up straighter. “Sam is worried you'll be mad at him for speaking with me about a personal matter.”

Dean is confused, and Sam looks like he's close to having a stroke or something. Cas' mouth opens again, but Sam coughs, distracting Cas enough that Sam can throw him a 'zip it' signal, and Cas closes his mouth, relaxing in his seat again.

“Sammy?” Dean asks, putting enough big-brother emphasis behind the word that he knows it'll make Sam squirm and hopefully tell Dean what's on his mind.

“He knows everything about you,” Sam blurts out, his cheeks getting pink, “so I assumed he knew about the whole male versus female thing,” he says, then winces, most likely at his choice of words.

“Okay,” Dean says.

Of course he knew Cas would know. He doubts Cas even blinked when Sam brought it up. Dean knows Cas has intimate knowledge of everything about him. But Dean's acceptance of what Sam has said and the fact that he's still sitting there calmly seems to help Sam, because Sam's shoulders drop a little.

Sam's mouth hangs open for a moment, then he shakes his head some, like he's telling himself to knock it off and get it out. “Cas says he can change you, if you want,” Sam says. “He can change your body to female,” he adds quickly, then looks to Dean as if Dean's going to pass out or yell at him.

Dean feels a flush of a million emotions running through his body at once. “Uhm,” he says, his head tilting as it sinks in.

He looks at each of them again, and he knows now why they're acting the way they are. They don't want to hurt him, and they know this could all blow up in their faces, but he knows they all care about him. A lot. They're scared, and Dean wants to reassure them it's okay, but he can't find the words.

Cas looks confident, like he knows he can do this for Dean. There's not doubt on his face, and Dean feels a mix of excitement and apprehension fighting for dominance in his body over the fear that wants to flare.

His eyes are burning, his throat feels like someone has wrapped their hands around it and squeezed, and his lips feel numb. He feels like he's flailing, nothing to ground him.

Cas is serious. Dean could have this. What he's always wanted is as close as a 'yes' from Dean's mouth. He doesn't even know how Cas would do it, what it entails, but he knows it wouldn't be anything like a gender-reassignment surgery. Cas was an angel, damn it. And he's got his grace back.

“I, uhm,” Dean says stupidly, then chuckles nervously at himself. He runs his hands over his face, then rubs the back of his neck.

He nearly jumps out his skin when he feels Charlie's hand gently rest on his left knee. He looks at her, probably with a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.

“Ask him why he remade you as a male,” she whispers, low enough that Sam probably couldn't hear her, but Cas can.

Dean grimaces, shaking his head. “I can't,” he whispers back. There's pain building in his chest. He doesn't want to hear the truth, and he wants to get back to thinking about the possibility of what Cas is offering.

Castiel leans forward, and in a very human way, leans his elbows on his knees. “I was simply reforming your body, Dee,” Cas says.

Dean gasps at that name coming from Castiel's lips. His eyes burn with more fierceness, and he feels them well up with tears. It's a lot to take in, and if Cas is already calling him Dee, that means Cas has accepted it. Cas has been told what's going on with him, and he's not condemning him, and instead he's following Dean's wishes. The name sounding natural from his lips.

Dean wipes at his face, aggressively trying to get the tears to go away. His hands are shaking. Damn it, he's been trained his whole life to keep a steady hand, and his hands are shaking. He shoves them between his knees.

“I didn't feel it was my place to form a new body for you,” Castiel continues, and Dean looks up at him. “Now that I've been around humans instead of simply observing, I'd do things differently. If I would've known what I know now, I would've formed a female body for you.”

Dean's chest is so tight he's scared he won't be able to breathe. Or worse yet, he'll start bawling right here in front of everyone.

“Angels don't see things the way humans do,” Cas says, his voice softening in a way that Dean hadn't expected. “After everything I saw of you, inside and out, I did what I was sent to do and reformed your physical body. Had an older, more experienced angel, archangel, or even God been the one to do it, they would've made you a female body.”

Dean feels the air being punched out of him, and he's embarrassed that it comes out with a noise that sounds like a sob. A few tears are running down his face, his teeth are clenched.

He wants to keep himself under control, but the thought of Cas having only been doing what he thought he should do, that a more knowledgeable angel or even God himself would have just gone ahead and given him a female body, well, it's blowing his mind.

He feels like he's gasping and can't get enough air, but he must not look too horrible because Sam and Charlie are letting him have his space beside Charlie's hand on his knee, and he uses the touch to ground himself, finally able to get a full breath in and out, make the burning in his eyes back off a little.

“There's nothing wrong with you, Dee,” Cas says.

Dean sees a small smile on Cas' face even though his vision is blurred from the watery eyes. He wipes at his eyes again, wishing he could stop the tears, the tightness in his chest. But at the same time, there's a weight lifting that makes him feel like laughing, shouting out his relief.

“God would never force a human to be something they're not,” Cas says. “Humans are his creation, and he gave you all free will because he doesn't want robots, doesn't want perfection. Humans have pushed ideas on each other about what should and shouldn't be, but I fought through Hell for you, and I fell from Heaven for you. I wouldn't have done that if you were some sort of unworthy abomination.”

That does it. He had hated his own body for so long, hated what it had meant that he'd been recreated as a male, and it had been something he'd had weighing on him for so long that when Castiel said those last words, the weight that lifted, the walls he'd carefully constructed that cracked a bit without falling felt like his world was changing.

Dean's lip wobbled, and a few more tears fell. He wiped them away with the back of his right hand, his left hand finding Charlie's and holding on.

He let out a chuckle that sounded more like a sob, then wondered if his face was a complete mess of tears and blotchy cheeks. And he really hoped he didn't have snot all over his face.

“I want to offer you a change,” Cas says. “There's no time limit on it. You can think about it for a while or you can say yes and I'll do it right now.”

Dean feels Charlie squeeze his hand, and he turns to her, giving her a wobbly smile. He sees so much love in her eyes, so much happiness that it lightens his own overwhelming feelings some.

“It's up to you, baby,” Charlie says softly. “No judgment or influence one way or the other from any of us. It's completely your decision, and all of us will respect whatever that decision is.”

He looks around at the rest of them, and he feels so loved, feels accepted in a way that he's never felt before. He really believes none of them would have a problem with whatever he decides, and the fact that Cas said there's no time limit on his decision makes things easier.

It's right there. It's right in front of him. He's dreamed of it since he can remember having daydreams. That whenever anyone would look at him, they'd see a woman. There would be no awkwardness. He could dress how he's always wanted to, he could act like he's always wanted to, and the general public would have no clue he'd ever been a male.

He lets himself picture it, which he hasn't done in years, hasn't done since shortly after Hell. Relief floods through him. The fear is melting away. He knows it would be a huge change, that it would take getting used to, but it's what he's always wanted.

“Sam mentioned that you were leery of medical procedures for sexual reassignment,” Cas says, sitting back in his chair. “I can assure you that I will manipulate your body down to your very last cell, and you will be remade into a female. It'll be slightly uncomfortable, but not painful, by any means, and it won't last more than an hour.

“It won't be a simple re-sculpting of your current appearance, but a re-forming at a cellular level that will make it impossible to ever be able to tell you weren't born female. You'll still be you, still have the same brain, still have everything that makes you 'you' on the inside.”

Dean wipes at his eyes again, his hands still shaky. “I want this,” he whispers. “I want this really fucking badly, but I'm kind of overwhelmed here,” he says with a huff as he looks down at his hand, fingers wrapped around Charlie's smaller hand.

“You don't have to decide right now,” Sam says. “If you want to think about it, Cas has no problem giving you time.”

Dean chuckles. “I am so never going to be able to top you in the gift-giving department,” he says to Sam, a big smile on his face.

Sam barks out a laugh. “You can try, but I'd rather just get a shit-load of little brother points. You know, those ones that let me get out of trouble and let me do and say stupid shit,” Sam says with a grin.

“I suppose I can do that,” Dean says with a nod.

He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, wipes his eyes again. Something is settling inside him. There's a feeling of rightness that is coming over him. He knows this isn't a fantasy, knows that there are ups and downs, the grass is always greener on the other side, but he's never felt right in his own body. He's never been what society thought he should be unless he put up walls, acted the part.

He's tired of some of those walls. He's tired of feeling as if he's lying to everyone he's ever met. He's tired of fighting something he doesn't think he should've ever had to fight in the first place.

He couldn't even begin to count the number of times he's looked in the mirror and been nearly surprised by who was looking back at him.

When he was a kid, he'd thought everyone did that, but after asking Sam vaguely about it when they were teenagers, and after asking a few women he'd been with over the years, he knows that's not how everyone else is. And now he has the chance to be able to look in the mirror and see the person he was meant to be.

Dean hasn't asked for much in life, hasn't been handed much, but this is truly a gift, and he's determined to grab onto it with both hands and never let go.

He turns to Cas, and Cas sits up straighter, obviously realizing Dean's ready to give his answer. “I want this,” Dean says with confidence.

Castiel smiles at him, a full on smile that shows his teeth and brightens his entire face. “Let's do it,” he says.

Dean chuckles, a flush of anticipating running through him. “Uhm, do I need to do anything?”

Charlie lets out a little squeal of excitement, and he sees her bouncing in her chair out of the corner of his eye. He knows she's trying to contain herself or she'd be on her feet bouncing.

Sam stands up so suddenly that his chair falls over backward. “Towels!” he blurts, his arms out at his sides. “And pillows! And, uh, water,” Sam says, obviously fishing for more items they'll need.

Charlie snorts. “Dee's not birthing a baby.”

Dean chuckles at the panicked look on Sam's face. Sam turns to Cas, his eyes wide and his arms still out at his sides, ready for anything.

“What do we need?” Sam asks desperately.

Cas grins at him. “Nothing,” he says as he kicks off his shoes and walks over to Dean, sitting down on the chaise at Dean's right side. “Unless you'd like privacy, we can do this right here,” Cas says to Dean.

“I don't need to do anything?” Dean asks, looking at Cas like he has all the answers to everything ever.

Cas shakes his head. “It will take a while, but if you're comfortable here and you want Sam and Charlie here, you just need to relax and let me touch you.”

“You gonna feel me up, Cas?” Dean asks with a sly grin.

Cas looks him in the eye. “I'll be using my grace, and I'll be touching every part of you inside and out, which is why I asked if you wanted privacy.”

“Do I have to get naked?” he asks, glancing at Sam.

Cas shakes his head. “No, in fact since your female body will be smaller, the clothes you have on will be loose, but they will cover you.”

“Uhm, okay,” Dean says, then points at Sam. “Sit if you want to. I'll leave it up to you whether you stay or go. I'm okay with you staying, but if you're uncomfortable –,” he starts, then is cut off.

“I wanna stay,” Sam says, his voice louder than normal, and Dean knows Sam's dying to see this.

“Okay,” Dean says. “It'll probably make it easier for you guys to believe it's me if you get to see me change, huh?”

“It does sound interesting,” Sam says, “but I want to be here for you.”

Dean smiles. “Take a seat,” he says, waving toward the fallen chair.

Sam spins, picks up his chair, drags it a few feet closer to the chaise, and sits down, straddling the chair and resting his arms on the back of the chair.

“Because of the changes I'm making,” Cas says, turning to Charlie, “it would be best if you didn't touch Dee,” he says as he gestures toward her hand in Dean's.

“Oh, okay,” Charlie says, dropping his hand like it's on fire.

“Lean your head back and try to relax,” Cas says, then lifts his hands.

“Wait!” Charlie yells, her hands flying out in front of her and waving.

“What?” Dean asks, and he sees Cas has frozen in place.

Charlie clambers over the arms of her chair, getting up awkwardly and gracelessly. She leans over and takes Dean's face in her hands, pulling him to her. His eyes cross as he tries to look at her up close.

She kisses him soft and slow, enjoying the moment. Dean feels himself melt into her, and when she pulls back, she smiles, running her thumb over his spit slick lower lip.

“Next time I kiss you,” she says, looking so excited it's intoxicating, “I'll be kissing the lips you were always meant to have.”

Dean's chest feels as if it'll burst with affection and love for Charlie. He's amazed by her ability to make things seem so right, to freely give of herself, give her love. He loves this woman so much it hurts. She said just the right words to calm him, get him looking toward the future, while letting him know that she'll be here for him whatever his physical form may be.

She gets back onto her chair, turning to the side so she can see Dean, her arms hanging over the arm of the chair.

“Okay, let's do this,” Dean says, nodding at Cas, then resting his head back against the back of the chaise.

Cas raises his arms again, then rests them on Dean's stomach. “At times, my grace will get brighter, but it'll never get bright enough to hurt your eyes,” he says to them.

No one says anything, and the silence is almost hard to take. Dean watches as Cas' hands start to glow, and he feels a warmth spreading out from his stomach. Castiel was right in that he feels somewhat uncomfortable, but it's not painful.

Dean would be willing to handle pain if it meant he'd get this, but it's nice to know that he doesn't have to endure pain.

He gasps as Cas' hands go through his body, passing through everything as if his hands and wrists are a hologram, but Dean feels them inside, down to the core of his stomach and spine.

He's never felt anything like it, even in Hell. There's no pain, and the discomfort is more of an oddness, an intensity instead of a prickling or stabbing. He'd almost describe it as pressure, but it isn't that either.

The warmth has spread to his entire body, and he's completely surprised that he can actually tell what part of his body Castiel is working on not only by that odd almost-pressure intensity, but also because that part of his body glows with the light of Castiel's grace.

Dean's left thigh is the first part to glow. It doesn't visibly change all that much, and Dean figures Cas started there because it would ease Dean into it. There's an uneasy shifting feeling, but nothing nearly as horrible as a displaced or fractured bone.

The bright glow spreads, encompassing both of his legs, and the shifting feeling becomes more intense, but not so much that he needs to ask Cas to stop. His toes feel tingly, and his left foot twitches once, then settles.

A sensation like waves spreading from the inside of his bones out to the top layer of skin overcomes his legs, and the glow becomes brighter, though still not bright enough to hurt their eyes. There's a near euphoric feeling running through Dean, and he wonders if Cas is doing that to keep him from freaking out or if it's a side effect of what's happening to his body.

Dean grits his teeth as he feels the intensity starting up in his abdomen. It's still in his legs, so he hadn't expected it to jump up to his stomach, and it was merely surprise, not discomfort that makes him grit his teeth.

A pulsing sensation begins in his stomach and pelvic area, and Dean almost wishes he could pull his clothes off so he could see what's happening, to see if his dick disappears or shrinks or morphs into something else.

“Stay still,” Cas mumbles.

Dean grins. It would figure Cas is reading his mind while he's doing this. He looks up at Sam and Charlie, their eyes wide and their mouths hanging open just a little. It's adorable, and Dean wants to say something, but Cas told him to stay still, so that probably includes his mouth.

He squirms a little as the feeling of intensity and pulsing spikes up into his chest. It's such a flash of sensation, there one second and gone the next, that it's hard to stay still. He stops looking at Sam and Charlie so he can concentrate on staying still for Cas.

The spike of intensity flashes up again, and Dean realizes it's coming from his pelvis and shooting up to each nipple. He wonders what's actually happening inside his body, wonders if Cas is laying the groundwork for the changes his outer appearance will take, and if the spikes of intensity up to his nipples have to do with his reproductive system.

“Ah!” Dean yelps, more surprised than anything else when a spike goes all the way to the top of his head.

“Don't be alarmed,” Cas says softly, the words penetrating him like they're all around him and inside of him, coming from outside the room and deep inside his body at one and the same time. “Everything's going the way it should.”

Dean forces himself to relax, focuses on a book high on the shelves to his left to keep from panicking, but lets his mind partially pay attention to the changes in his body.

He'd swear his legs feel shorter, but he keeps them still, not even wriggling his toes. The glow dies down, and the warmth in his body from Cas' grace almost feels like it's searching something out, moving from limb to limb, across his chest, down one leg, then the other, and finally settling in his stomach.

He feels an odd sensation in his jaw, but does his best to stay still. It feels like he's been chewing on something gooey all day. It's a soreness that normally he'd ignore, but he knows what it means. He knows his jawline is softening, and he tries to control his breathing, keep his excitement from overwhelming him.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined something like this would happen. When he was little and daydreamed about getting sexual reassignment surgery, he knew it would be exactly that; surgery. He knew it would hurt. He knew things would never be completely 'normal' down there. And the more he learned about it, the less it sounded like a good option.

This, though, well, this was amazing. Even before he knew it would be painless, he had no doubt in his mind that Cas would do this right. He knew Dean inside and out. Who better to make Dee than Castiel?

And that's when Dean nearly passes out. It's not anything Cas is doing. Rather the rush of realizing he's finally going to be female hits the rest of the way.

He's still refused to allow himself to think of himself as a woman, even though Sam and Charlie were using feminine pronouns and the name Dee, because he wasn't really a woman. The pronoun and name usage from Sam and Charlie were a consideration, a nicety for him that he greatly appreciated, but inside his own head, the fact that he had a dick was black and white for him, and he could play, could have some of his wishes, but not the female pronoun in his own head. He'd have had to earn that, but he never knew how he could've without this.

The dizziness hits hard as all at once Dean realizes he's becoming Dee. A she. A her. A woman. She feels tears rolling down the sides of her face, but she doesn't dare try and wipe them away, doesn't dare move. She doesn't look at Charlie or Sam in case it would make her more emotional.

Dee works at breathing her way through the emotions. She feels the warm, intense spikes of Castiel's work all throughout her body. This is it. It's what she's always wanted. She has it. And she's sharing the experience with her family, the three who matter most to her in the entire world.

Her ears itch, and she can hear something changing, something shifting. Instead of being alarmed, she welcomes it. Maybe she'll have cute little petite ears now, and maybe Charlie will love sucking on the lobes.

Her nose itches, and she wonders if it'll look like her mom's nose or if the combination of her parents means she'll have a little bit larger nose.

Her eyes itch and tear up more, but she figures the tearing has more to do with her emotions than anything else. They don't itch for long, so her eyes must not change all that much.

Her throat itches, and in pulsing waves, she feels it shifting. She wonders if her voice will be high and annoying or if it'll be deep and sexy. She hopes it's somewhere in the middle, that it's pleasant, but not masculine.

Her shoulders itch, and she has the urge to shrug, but she stays still, waiting for Castiel to soften her shoulders, take away the severe edges of a male body.

When her chest itches, she smiles. She tries not to, but she can't help it. She nearly asks Castiel for big tits, but then she reminds herself that Cas will do this right.

“They'll be beautiful,” Cas mumbles, and Dee thinks possibly Cas is smiling.

The itching is intense over her nipples, spreading out over each breast like a hand cupping her, separate fingers pulsing, then fades away. She wants to look down, but instead she looks at Charlie. Her eyes are wide, her mouth still hanging open, and when she sees Dee looking at her, she closes her mouth a bit.

“Wow,” Charlie says with a leer.

Dee smiles, and when she does, her lips feel different. It thrills her to realize that something even so simple as smiling feels more right than it's ever felt.

The itching intensity moves down to her stomach, subtly passing the sternum. It doesn't stay long in her stomach, moving quickly to her pelvic area.

Dee tenses. She's excited about this, but it's scary at the same time. She suddenly worries it's going to hurt, like someone cutting their dick off. Then she remembers Castiel saying there'd be no pain and she calms herself.

The same shifting sensation radiates throughout her pelvis, her hips, and where her cock and balls might still be. She feels silly for not knowing if they're still there. She figures there won't be something like fireworks going off or fanfare as her dick goes away, but she should know, right?

And then she feels it. It's nothing like she expected. She'd still been waiting for the pain, so to have a cooling sensation contrast the warmth going through her pelvic area startles her and she flinches. It's not icy cold, but more like a cool breeze.

She can't feel anything shrinking, and it doesn't feel like suddenly things are gone, but the only thing that comes to her mind to describe it is a sandcastle deconstructed by gentle waves. It's a shifting away like the sand settling. When it's done, she definitely knows the dick and balls are gone.

Dee wants to squeal with happiness. She never has to look at her dick again. She'll never jerk off again. She never has to deal with untimely erections. She'll never need a tissue or a towel to get rid of the jizz. Any messiness that comes from now on can be cleaned by her own fingers, which will quickly be shoved in her mouth, or hopefully by Charlie.

She wants to touch. She wants to look in the mirror. She wants to try on clothes. Speaking of clothes, she has to go shopping. She needs a whole new wardrobe. Dee can't wait to take Charlie along for that.

Dee feels the warmth throughout her body fade away, the intensity having gone before the warmth, but it went so slowly she hadn't noticed it. Or maybe she was too busy planning her shopping trip, already wondering if some of her favorite panties came in her new size.

She looks down at her stomach to see Castiel pulling his hands out. She looks at him and sees that he looks exhausted, and without thinking, she sits up straight, grabbing him by the arms, not even thinking that maybe she should've stayed still longer.

“Are you okay?” she asks, and she hears Sam gasp.

“I'm fine,” Cas says with a weak smile. “It's tiring, but that's all. Some rest and I'll be back to myself again,” he reassures her.

She chuckles, then throws her arms around his neck, squeezing probably harder than she means to, but she figures her strength isn't that of a man's anymore, so it shouldn't hurt him too much.

“Thank you,” she says into his cheek. “I can't ever thank you enough,” Dee says, finally noticing her voice is different now that she's no longer worried about Castiel.

She pulls back, then looks at her hands, her wrists. They're softer, slimmer. She turns her hands back and forth, then looks at her forearms, which are sparsely covered in short, fine, blonde hair. She reaches up and starts at the top of her head, notices she has longer hair and looks at Cas.

“I gave you longer hair so you could decide how you wanted to style it instead of waiting for it to grow out,” Cas says, sounding tired, and he's now leaning back against the chaise, his eyes half closed, but still looking at her like she's amazing. That look he's given Dee on occasion.

She giggles. “Thanks!” Dee says, flashing Cas a smile.

Dee bypasses her throat to grab her breasts. Her shirt is loose now, but she cups her breasts, feeling the weight of them in her hands. They don't feel huge, don't feel tiny, and it's totally awesome to be feeling breasts from this side of things. She flicks a nipple, gasping at the sensation, then blushes when she sees Sam is watching her.

Sam chuckles. “Because of the occasion, you totally get to cop a feel, and I won't tease you or anything.”

Dee laughs. “Dude, are they awesome tits?” she asks, then lifts her shirt, pushing her chest out.

Sam freezes, his eyes wide and his jaw dropping. Dee hears Charlie laughing hysterically, but Dee is enjoying Sam's cheeks flushing way too much to look at her. Sam's mouth has started moving a little, like he wants to say something, anything, but Dee chuckles as nothing comes out.

“Well?” Dee drawls at Sam, shaking her tits back and forth enough to make them bounce.

Sam looks up to make eye contact with her as if he had to drag his eyes away from her breasts with something physical and it took effort. “Uhm, yeah, I'd say they're awesome tits,” he says, his eyes moving back down to her breasts.

Dee puts her shirt down, still giggling. She glances at Castiel, sees that's he's got his head back, his eyes closed, but his lips are twitching into a smirk. She doesn't know if Cas caught a look at her tits, but she's pretty sure he did, and the smirk is only partly because of Sam's reaction.

Dee reaches under her shirt, tweaking her left nipple, and she hears Sam squeak. “They're so sensitive, Sammy!” she says enthusiastically. “I already had sensitive nipples, but damn, no wonder some chicks don't like their nipples played with and others go nuts with all the squirming and moaning when you flick them!”

Sam snorts, his eyes still working over Dee's body. Dee really wants to get a good look at her new body too, but she needs to tease Sam just a little longer. She's his big sister now, and she can't let him think that the teasing stops.

“Want to see my pussy?” Dee asks, her hands going to the button on her jeans.

Sam blinks, his eyes moving back up to Dee's face. “Huh?” Sam says stupidly. Then it seems to catch up with him. “Uhm, n-no. No! That's okay. Leave it to my imagination,” he says, then realizes what he's said. “I mean, no! That wasn't. I'm sorry. Not my imagination. I'm not going to imagine your pussy, y-your vagina, y-no. My sister. That I've known for years. You raised me. Changed my diapers. And, fuck, I've got an amazingly hot sister, and I'll be beating the guys and girls off of you, but yeah, my sister. Sister,” he says, almost as if he's convincing his dick who it is inside this new body in front of him.

Dee snorts. “Breathe, Sam,” she says.

Sam does, then lets out a laugh that sounds more like a honk, which just makes Charlie's giggles turn into guffaws.

“Sam's face!” Charlie says in between clutching her stomach and bouts of laughter. “His face is awesome! Best. Reaction. Ever!” she says as she points at Sam.

Sam blushes even harder, and his smile gets so big that his dimples are showing. “What can I say. I'm a heterosexual male, and I saw tits,” he says with a shrug.

Cas lets out a huff, and Dee turns to look at him. He already looks a little better, but he looks pale, and his eyes are closed, his arms wrapped around his stomach.

“Can I do anything for you, Cas? Or do you just have to get some rest?” Dee asks, still concerned.

Cas smiles, but his eyes remain closed. “I'm fine. Go enjoy your new body. Just remember to use protection unless you're with Charlie because the both of you are clean,” he says, his speech a little slurred.

“I don't plan on being with anybody but Charlie, at least for a while,” Dee says, smiling at Charlie.

Charlie gives her a sweet smile in return. “It's nice to know we're both clean, even though I already knew I was,” she says.

“I knew I was clean too,” Dee says, then turns to Cas again. “Do you want a blanket?”

“Go. Enjoy. I'll rest,” Cas says, sounding like he's about to fall asleep.

“I want a kiss!” Charlie blurts, getting out of her chair and getting on her knees in front of Dee.

“Mmm, yeah,” Dee says, leaning forward and capturing Charlie's lips in her first kiss with her new body.

It takes her a few moments to reorient herself with not only the differences in her own facial features, but also the changes in her mouth and tongue. They don't seem weak, like they're brand new, but things move a little differently, her nose fits in tighter with Charlie's, and she's glad to feel that her lips are still quite soft and about the same size.

Dee gasps, pulling back and looking at Charlie with wide eyes. “How do you know when your pussy is wet?”

“Oh, fuck!” Sam yelps, stumbling up from the chair. He pushes down on his crotch as he turns, walking out of the library with a wide gait. “The two of you are going to make my dick fall off!” he yells as he gets to the doorway.

Charlie giggles. “I say we totally use this to see how many times we can get him to jerk off in a week, then tease him when he walks around funny because he's got chaffing,” she says, an evil grin on her face.

“God, marry me, you evil woman!” Dee says, leaning back down and giving Charlie a quick kiss.

Charlie laughs, then stands up, grabbing Dee's hand and pulling her up. When Dee is finally on her feet, she feels a little dizzy and holds onto Charlie's hand tighter.

“You okay?” Charlie asks, putting her other hand on Dee's shoulder.

Dee looks down at Charlie, noticing the height difference, but it's not as much as it used to be. She's maybe four or so inches taller than Charlie now instead of seven or eight. She smiles. “I'm still taller than you,” Dee says.

Charlie smirks. “Wait until you see yourself,” she says, leering again.

Dee feels a tingle of arousal run through her, and it feels different than it used to, but she still recognizes it for what it is. She turns to look at Cas, sees that his face has relaxed, and he almost looks as if he's asleep. He said he'd be okay, so Charlie turns to Charlie again.

“I wanna try out my new equipment!” she says, then takes off toward their room.
- - -

Next: Part 3