Fic, Like Riding a Bicycle, Supernatural, Bobby
Title: Like Riding a Bicycle
Characters: Bobby, OFC.
Ratings: NC-17
Word Count: 5267 (Got out of control)
Summary: Bobby meets an old friend, a friend with benefits as he finds out.
A/N: Written for the spnsupporting table. Thanks to candesgirl who looked it over and deemed it acceptable. :)
Bobby stared blankly at the stripper not really seeing and not really interested. Seen one, seen ‘em all was his take on the matter. If there’d been any other choice of watering holes in this town, he’d have been there but since there wasn’t, he’d make do. Had Dean been there, Bobby at least would have been entertained watching the young man’s face light up but he hadn’t seen Dean in weeks. Any phone messages Lisa had taken had been ignored or not passed on. The last conversation Bobby had with her had ended in Lisa suggesting he give up. He took her advice.
The next dancer caught his eye. She could have been Jo Harvelle’s twin from the glimpse he caught of her face and that beaming smile she plastered on her face. At least, Jo with major implants and longer legs. Not that he’d had a thing for Jo but sure, he’d noticed. Hell, he might be old, but he wasn’t dead.
“Like what you see,” a sultry voice whispered in his ear. His bone-weary body aside, he was in no mood for the come-ons, the hookers assuming that any beat up old man’s goal post consisted of getting laid or blown.
“Just here for the beer,” he answered not looking at what was being offered.
“That why your jaw just hit the table?” the voice chuckled.
He didn’t have it in him to explain that it wasn’t the body he was looking at, not really. He knew the young girl on the stage couldn’t be Jo and his heart ached. Too many good people lost.
“Thanks lady, but no thanks,” Bobby said lifting the beer to his lips.
“How about you buy me one of those.” Bobby felt a too-firm grip on his shoulder as the chair beside him moved away from the table and a denim clad leg slid into it. His body tensed ready to pull his knife from its sheath.
“Relax Bobby.”
He swung his head towards the woman and let out his breath.
“Kate Morris. Damn near gave an old man a heart-attack.”
“Nice to see you too Bobby,” she smiled, “and don’t you go giving me that old man talk. I’m moving right up there so I take that personally.”
“You are a sight woman,” he said, “but what the hell are you doing here?”
“Passing through,” she said, “and I heard you were back in the game. Thought you could give me some leads, although I didn’t actually expect to find you here.”
“You’re hunting now?” he asked. “With Stu?”
“Stu didn’t make it Bobby,” she said lowering her eyes to her hands. Bobby caught her twist the silver band on her left finger.
“Sorry to hear that. We lost a lot of good men and women.” Bobby sighed and shook his head. “But you, hunting. You swore up and down you’d never get back to that.”
“I swore a lot back then,” she said, a wistful smile on her face. “Things change.”
Spring Falls, NV, population one thousand was a prime target for the demon attack, Kate started. The townsfolk had rallied behind Stu but by the time he had convinced them of their danger, it was too little too late. At the onset and in spite of Stu’s begging, she refused to put a gun in her hand again. When Stu’s chest blew out the back of him shattering bones and splattering blood over the street, she ran into the fray, dragged him into an alley and held him until his wracked body gave up its spirit. She picked up the gun and ran shooting into the street, joining the sorry few left standing. She and a half dozen others escaped into the surrounding hills. Days later, when they snuck back into the deserted town, she found her gun store looted likely by demons and hunters alike and aside from the irreparable damage to the store, there was no one left to actually buy anything. Not much point in staying. Their band stuck together for a few days, after they buried their dead but aside from her, they were just regular folks who wanted nothing more than a return to their lives and soon dispersed. Most had other family around the country but Kate’s only relative who hadn’t escaped the devastation was a spinster aunt in Portland who she hadn’t seen in years.
“I got nothing else, Bobby,” she finished.
“You lookin’ for revenge now? That’s a sorry road to travel,” Bobby said. “I seen that demon cause a lot more damage than it’s worth.”
“Maybe,” she smiled sorry eyes at him.
“So the Winchesters,” she said clearly not wanting to discuss it further. “Word out there is that Sammy actually stopped it.”
“Yes, damn fool,” Bobby smiled. “That boy did. I think his brother had a lot to do with it too even though I didn’t see that part.”
“How so?”
“Not really sure because Dean isn’t talking. Just a feeling in my gut.”
“You were there?” she asked, eyes wide.
“Yah, but the devil knocked me down,” Bobby said taking a long haul on his beer. He wasn’t going to get into the whole resurrection by an angel thing. “So I didn’t actually see the end. Probably a good thing.” Curiosity aside, seeing Sam actually throw himself into the pit would have broken what little was left of Bobby’s spirit. Knowing was bad enough.
“So you going to buy me that drink?” Kate asked breaking through the silence.
As the two of them sat, sipping and talking, Bobby felt a comfort, an easing of his soul that he hadn’t thought possible. Even though this had the tone of a wake, two old codgers reminiscing about times past, Bobby was glad for Kate’s company and he could see by the sparkle in her eyes that she needed this in just as much.
“How is it that two folks like us, in our prime just sit here and talk the past?” Kate asked.
Bobby snorted and said, “Our prime?”
“Hell yes. We’ve both got our health and all our wits, well, at least I have my wits,” she winked. “We’ve got what, thirty, forty years left in us?”
“If we don’t get ourselves killed before and you know we’re both lookin’ to do just that in this line of work.” Bobby saw the woman’s eyes harden.
“I don’t know about you, but that’s not my plan,” she said picking up her glass and downing the rest of her drink.
“Don’t none of us plan it,” Bobby said.
“Seems that Sam Winchester did and I wonder if you’re not doing the same thing as you think I’m doing, revenge and all. You could settle with your scrap yard, yet here you are.”
“Somebody’s gotta do it,” Bobby sighed. “I guess that’s always been the argument for this crazy life we live, isn’t it?”
Kate smiled at him, a genuine smile that lit her eyes once again. Stu had been a lucky man. She placed her hand over his and said, “Time to call it a night, Bobby.”
“Where you stayin’?” he asked.
“I found a real nice van that I call home now,” she said.
Bobby hesitated before saying, “I got a room up the road. It’s not much but it’s got an extra pull-out, tv and a shower if you’re interested.” He wasn’t prepared to give up this morsel of company yet. In the morning, they could share breakfast and then be on their separate ways. For tonight, it’d be a comfort to dispel the loneliness of the dark, hearing breathing other than his own. As frustrating as the Winchester boys had been at times, he missed having them around, that simple assurance that he wasn’t alone.
“I smell that bad do I?” she smirked. “Always the charmer.”
“Just saying is all,” Bobby squirmed.
“Actually, that sounds like a pretty good offer and yes, I’ll take you up on it. Lead the way.”
Kate trailed him to the motel and as she pulled up, Bobby heard the rumble of the broken muffler.
“I could have a look at your exhaust in the morning. If nothing else, I’ve got duct tape,” he offered as they walked to the room. She nodded as they entered and swung her bag onto the table, a table that nearly shook the bag off as it teetered on uneven legs. Bobby waved her to the bathroom and when she protested that he should go first, reassured her that he had showered earlier. He plunked himself in front of the laptop that Dean had shoved into his hands and said hold onto this, Sam’s computer. It had been far faster than his own with a bonus of Sam’s own de-encryption program. While Dean might have thought it would be reclaimed by its owner, Bobby knew different and didn’t see the point in wasting it.
The bathroom door creaked open and Bobby beckoned Kate over, having found some suspicious activity due south of their location. When her warm, slightly damp hands rested lightly on his shoulder, a shiver ran up his back and his muscles tensed. The gesture reminded him of his wife, and how much he missed her soft, soothing touch. Her return from the dead, those fleeting moments had added to the ache in his chest.
Kate’s hands slowly began to knead his tense muscles and he sank back into them.
“It’s been a long time…” Bobby said. A long time since anyone had even touched him, truth be told.
“Want me to stop?”
“No, it’s good. Looks like it could be demons south of here. Thought you’d be interested.” Bobby groaned as she found the tension. From the computer screen’s reflection, he saw her scanning the information on the screen.
“I wish,” she started, took in a shuddering breath and shook her head.
Bobby turned around and saw a tear running down her cheek. He stood up and awkwardly put his arms around her, careful not to dislodge the towel wrapped around her body. He patted her on the back and said what he hoped where soothing words. Damn women, he thought. He couldn’t yell at her like he would have with Sam and Dean but he didn’t know anything else. He’d never been good with the tears. When her body started shaking, he grabbed her tighter until he heard her laughing. He unwound himself and stepped away, leaving his hands grasping her arms. Tears he could manage; hysteria not so much.
“Look at me, the great hunter,” she laughed. “I’m sorry Bobby. I’m fine. Really.”
“You sure?”
“I could use a drink,” she answered, brushing the tear away, grabbing the tv remote and plunking herself on the couch.
Bobby poured whiskey into the cheap motel tumblers and pulled the desk chair around.
“I don’t bite Bobby and I guarantee, no more tears,” she said, glancing to the empty cushion beside her. Bobby had known Kate for over twenty years, even been on a couple of hunts with her and Stu but this was the first time he really saw her as a woman, a woman damn-near naked in his room. He was fourteen again, sitting beside his sister’s best friend Angie out by the pond, her dressed in nothing but a swimsuit and Bobby trying not to look.
“You mind putting some clothes on,” he blurted. “That towel ain’t coverin’ much.”
She leapt up and turned towards her bag but not before Bobby caught a glimpse of her round breast as the towel slipped slightly. He swallowed, hard. He had to pull himself together. He’d not been distracted by anyone in that sort of way in years, since Karen had passed if he was honest. He’d pushed all those feelings away knowing that was not in the cards for him anymore. Six years had passed since he had last held a woman in his arms, at least one that had really been alive and not returned from the dead. As much as he now felt fourteen and awkward, he wasn’t some teenage boy anymore and it shocked him that his eye was being turned by Kate given that he’d seen enough naked flesh, hard to miss with Dean around, and never been bothered. He rarely even woke aroused these days and when he did he ignored it until it went away, an old friend best left forgotten. He’d taken care of himself a few times after Karen died but that just ended in tears, remembering that she wasn’t there. He’d decided to give that a miss. He sure wasn’t the type to go searching for sex like Dean and even if he had been, who’d have had a broken down geezer like him, he’d thought. Hell, he didn’t know if he even remembered how to do it, he’d pushed it that far away from his mind. Besides, this was Kate, Stu’s wife.
“You might want to turn away,” she said, dropping the towel to the floor. Bobby spun away and gulped.
“Okay Singer. I’m decent,” she said but Bobby stood his ground, trying to tame the old friend between his legs who was paying an unexpected visit.
Damn, think of something else. Trapped in the car with gassy Sam. Bobby squeezed his eyes shut clenched his fists and willed the surprise guest away. Hell, if the reminder of that night in the Impala didn’t do it, nothing would.
Yup, that did it. Bobby thought and exhaled. Thankfully as he turned toward the couch, Kate seemed oblivious and he sat down beside her. She held up her glass.
“Here’s to us, a couple of survivors,” she smiled and they both threw half the whiskey down their throats.
Kate flipped through the channels, refusing to relinquish remote rights and finding nothing both of them could agree on, turned the tv off.
They talked about what was in the cards for the next year, as far ahead as either of them could really see, Bobby saying that they still were needed, that Lucifer would be trying to escape, of that he had no doubt. Kate asked about Sam and Dean again, and did Bobby think Dean would return to the hunting life. When Bobby shook his head, looking down at the last half of the whiskey he’d been nursing, she stretched out her hand and grabbed his, squeezing.
“You love that boy, don’t you?” she asked.
“Like he was my own,” he admitted. “Worried sick about him. He’s not one for letting go of things and I fear he’s gonna try and go after Sam.”
“But you said Sam’s dead.”
“Yah, but you don’t know these boys like I do. If Dean could sell his soul again and hadn’t promised his brother he wouldn’t, I think he’d do it,” Bobby said. “But he did promise.”
Bobby started on a short version of the Winchester gospels or at least he thought it was short. As he stared at the wall, getting to the part where the boys had gotten shot by two hunters, he felt Kate’s body slump against his. Her body had curled itself onto the couch and her eyelids closed. He took the tumbler gently from her hand and placed it on the side table. She grunted at his movement and draped her arm around his stomach. He eased his arm around her, cradling her shoulder and sat, eyes focused only on the cheap wood paneling opposite him, enjoying the warmth of her body and the clean smell of soap when he inhaled. This was how he should have been spending his years, quietly embracing his woman, peaceful, and content, not running around like a fool after whatever creature he could find to keep his own demons away. He inhaled a lungful of air to keep the pointless tears at bay. He needed sleep.
Kate stirred and Bobby took that as his cue. He gently shook her but when she simply snuggled closer, he slipped his arm under her knees and picked her up, walking over to the bed and placing her gently on its worn cover. He placed his lips softly against her forehead. When he started to move to the couch Kate grabbed his wrist and said, “stay.”
“I’ll be fine on the couch,” he said softly. “You get some sleep.”
“Please,” she said, opening her eyes. “Stay.”
The ache he saw in her brown eyes convinced him. He had seen that in too many lonely souls these day, his own included, lost and grabbing at any bit of contact. He pulled off his boots and crawled in beside her. She rested her head in the crook of his arm and he squeezed her against his chest. Two people abandoned with little hope left, they slept.
Bobby stirred when her head lifted from his chest but he fell back to his pillow and quickly drifted off. The whisper in his ear minutes, hours later, he wasn’t sure, woke him again. He felt lips softly brush against his and instinctively, he raised a hand to discover bare flesh. His eyes sprung open to find Kate’s face lit by the pale moonlight seeping through fragile curtains. A scrap of his mind murmured, telling him the blinds should be drawn, danger lurked outside these walls but the thought receded into the background as he saw her mouth come towards him again. This seemed far more dangerous than a possible or impossible creature outside these walls. This was real and scary as any hellhound or wendigo, scarier as Bobby had no idea what to do.
“Wait,” he shouted a little too loud as he squirmed away and rolled off the bed, landing hard on his left hip and then stumbling to his feet. He shook his head trying to clear the sleep from his brain. He’d never been good with the quick starts in the morning. Even less so in the middle of the night and he sure as hell couldn’t think clearly with a naked woman in front of him and naked she was. He swallowed hard for what must have been the third or fifth or twentieth time in the span of a few hours.
“What’s gotten into you?” he asked backing towards his duffel not taking his eyes from her. His flask of holy water seemed like a good first line of defense.
“Like I said before Bobby, I don’t bite,” she said and then grinned, “unless you want me to.”
The light reflected eerily off her eyes. Demon possession seemed like the only possibility and Bobby rifled one-handed behind his back into the bag. He found the silver flask, unscrewed the lid between two fingers and as she closed the distance between them, tossed the liquid towards her. The water hit its mark and glistened as it trickled down her bare skin and over her surprisingly high breasts. No steam except the steam that Bobby was sure was coming out his ears.
“I’m not possessed,” she said stopping in her tracks and wearing a scowl that sure looked demon-like to Bobby.
“Well, something’s taken over your good sense, woman.”
“Bobby Singer. I never took you for a prude,” she huffed and jammed balled fists on her hips, a posture that reminded him of his mother - well, his mother if she’d been clothed. He shook that thought from his brain with a shudder.
“I ain’t no prude,” he said. “I just …I just, well, I didn’t expect this to happen.”
“If we stand around here, it isn’t going to happen,” she said reaching a hand out to him, “and I’d kinda like it to.”
She brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed it softly before placing his palm on her breast, her still wet breast as Bobby discovered.
“Uh, sorry about the water,” he said, attempting to still the tremor in both his voice and the hand that lay against her skin.
“It’s okay,” she said moving her hand to the nape of his neck and drawing his mouth close to hers.
“It kinda tingles,” she breathed and pressed her open mouth to his, gently running her tongue around his lips. “When was the last time you kissed someone, really kissed them?”
Bobby nearly choked as he inhaled, willing away the vision of Crowley that popped into his mind.
“You don’t wanna know the answer to that,” he said.
“Been that long has it?” she said quietly, running her fingers over the stubble on his cheek.
Bobby looked into her eyes, hesitated and decided he was happy leaving the soul-selling, apocalyptic war stories in the past. He smiled a non-answer and hesitantly moved his mouth towards hers, hoping this would erase any lingering traces of the crossroads demon from his brain. A hair’s breathe from feeling her lips against his, Bobby stepped back.
“What now? I’m throwing myself at you Bobby,” the exasperated voice said. “Am I that unattractive or have you decided to bat for the other team?”
“No! I’m not batting for the other team,” Bobby said a little too quickly. He might have sold his soul with that man-kiss but he hadn’t been converted, at least, he was pretty sure he hadn’t. “And woman, you are a hell of a sight. How could I not find you attractive?”
“Then why?” Kate asked softly.
Bobby looked at the floor, searching for some answer that would make sense to Kate and to his confused mind. He shook his head and looked up.
“I…Karen was the only one.”
“Seriously? You never…”
“Nope.”
“But now she’s gone just like Stu is,” Kate said taking a step closer. “Do you think she’d want you saving herself for some heavenly reunion? Don’t you think she’d want you to move on?”
Bobby stared at Kate, a lonely woman, a strong woman, a woman who was not Karen. He knew in his heart that Karen wouldn’t want him to continue grieving forever and he also knew he walked that path. He’d never consciously made the decision to become celibate and would have denied it had anyone raised the point. Hell, he had denied it when Dean brought it up now that he thought about. Now that the chance to veer off onto a long forgotten road presented itself, he knew he was afraid.
“I don’t know if I even know how anymore,” Bobby blurted.
“Like riding a bike Singer. You just have to strap on the helmet and start peddling,” Kate said. “You might be a little wobbly at first but I’ll hold onto the seat.”
Kate closed the remaining distance between them, put her hands on his still clothed behind and squeezed. Bobby’s face broke out into a grin. The woman did make him smile.
“Good solid seat you’ve got there too,” she smirked. “Wanna see if we can put a few miles on it?”
She moved her hands around to his belt and Bobby felt the blood rush to his cheeks, the sweet churning of his stomach’s anticipation and the tenting in his pants. Maybe this would work, he thought as his eyes closed. He felt Karen thumb open the buttons of his shirt and slide the soft flannel over his shoulder and down his arms. He shuddered as his mind stepped back, correcting his thought. No, this was Kate not Karen. Please, Karen, forgive me. Forgive me for everything, Bobby silently pleaded.
Frantic to banish Karen’s ghost from his mind, he pulled Kate to him and with a thirst he scarcely recognized, drank in her lips. Her hands pushed his pants down and he fumbled them off. Her tongue answered the desperate probing of his. He carded his fingers through her hair and pulled her impossibly closer, inhaling her scent and felling the rush of arousal ignite his blood, an arousal that was more than just physical, an intimacy that had been missing too long from his life. Kate wrapped her leg around him pulling Bobby off balance and they fell slowly onto the bed.
He didn’t think, didn’t want to think anymore about how reckless this might be. He didn’t think about the morning light, or Karen or Stu. He thought only about the need for another that he had pushed away all those years, years lost. Her smooth skin warmed his palm as he caressed her stomach and eased his hand down her body to the heat between her thighs. Her moaned response drove away any lingering hesitation. Her calloused hands, the hands of a hunter slid their way down Bobby’s back, catching at scars long forgotten and when her fingers tickled at his groin, he felt his cock grow rigid. Castiel might have resurrected his physical form but this very real, vibrant woman was returning his guts, heart and passion. His soul might still be absent but for now, he would more than survive.
With a move worthy of a seasoned hunter, Kate flipped Bobby onto his back leaving him gasping for air.
“Ready Singer?” she growled, pupil-blown eyes drilling into him. He sincerely believed that if she’s had a knife in her hand, he still would have nodded his answer. A tendril of sanity managed to creep from the depths of his brain and he grunted out the word protection.
“Right,” she panted and as she climbed of the bed said, “don’t go anywhere and make sure you don’t lose that.”
He had no intention of losing anything and encircled his rigid penis, pulling it as he watched Kate’s back retreating towards her bag. The brief thought that if she was going to do him any harm, this would be the perfect chance, drifted through his mind. Trust didn’t come easily to a hunter.
She returned to the bed, a small pouch in her hand glistening in the shadowy light. As she brought it to her mouth and ripped it open, Bobby let out the breath he’d been holding along with his softening cock.
“Hey mister,” Kate said staring at his occupied hand, “I told you not to lose that.”
Bobby shrugged and grinned sheepishly.
“I can fix that,” she said and crawled between his legs. “Need some lube in any case.”
Her tongue flicked over the slit and she ran her tongue around the head spreading the drop of moisture that had leaked out. Kate sucked him into her mouth and applied her tongue enthusiastically to the task of finding his lost hardness. Bobby’s felt his brain shut down and his body take over as his hips moved in time with Kate’s mouth and hand. When her hand had replaced his, he couldn’t say and he didn’t care. Too soon, the cold air tingled as her mouth popped away and left a void of heat. She rolled the condom onto him with a skill that bore evidence of practice. He chose to discard any notions that conjured, focusing instead on her tongue as it licked its way over her palm. She ran her slicked hand over his hard flesh and then raked her nails over his thighs and onto his stomach as she climbed over him again. She positioned his cock under her and whispered “touch me Bobby.”
He lightly ran his flattened palms over her nipples, making her gasp as she lowered herself onto him. He caressed his hands down her body discovering scars equal in number to his. His hands grasped her hips as she moved slowly up and down, grinding herself against him. She leaned forward and he lifted his head from the pillow to meet her mouth. They devoured each other’s mouths, as they found a steady rhythm. Bobby fought to take in enough air to feed his lungs for this battle of the flesh. Too soon, he felt her shudder and clench around him. Still with mouths pressed tightly, she sucked Bobby’s tongue into her and crushed her crotch against him.
Bobby wrapped his arms around her, grasping her hips and turning her onto her back, her head to bottom of the bed. When he entered her again, relishing the soft wet feel of her returning, she stared at him from under hooded lids, gasped and grabbed his bottom drawing him in further. Bobby stared into her eyes, trying to drink in as much as he could of her as they rediscovered their rhythm, slow and gentle at first but soon accelerating. He felt her second orgasm roll hard through her body, and he pressed his mouth against hers not wanting that energy to escape from between them. Her tongue plunging into his mouth and her nails raking over his back pushed him over the edge and he came deep inside her, pumping hard and then slowing as the waves retreated. He could barely keep from collapsing on top of her but wanted to stay there forever.
Forever, as forever was bound to do, lasted a few minutes until his arms were shaking and he had to withdraw. He rolled over onto the bed and found her hand brushing the tears away from his cheeks. He briefly wondered when he’d turned into a girl but let that pass as he saw the bright smile shining at him.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Shh,” she said. She dragged him back to the pillows and curled back into the crook of his arm.
“You’re not going to be mad if I fall asleep are you, ‘cause you just wore me out woman,” he said, a shake in his voice.
“I said shut it Singer. Go to sleep.”
And he did.
**************
The rumbling of a broken exhaust as Kate’s van fired up woke him. The rumpled bed sheets were all that was left beside him. He looked around the room and all trace of Kate except for the half empty glass of whiskey was gone. He swallowed the lump in his throat and wondered at the gut-ache of her departure. Looking out the window favored him with only the raised dust from the gravel parking lot that followed the van’s tires onto the road. He did know what he had expected with the dawn but he wasn’t kidding himself that it had been anything more than two souls reaching out for a fleeting moment of solace. It was more than he’d ever hoped for and he wasn’t about to get all Harlequin romance about it, he thought. He briefly considered following her south to that lead he’d found but changed his mind. He’d continue in his original direction and hope that maybe they’d cross paths again.
The shower water beat on his back washing away the traces of the night. As he scrubbed his hair, he heard a single click, the door to his room being opened. Leaving the water still running and with shampoo still bubbling in his hair, he quietly slipped out of the shower stall and wrapped a towel around his waist. He looked for his knife but realized he’d left it in the main room. Sex had made him soft in more ways than one, he growled silently. His eye caught sight of the intruder through the crack in the bathroom door, the intruder’s back to him. The bed under which his knife lay was too far away to reach without being seen. His only course of action appeared to be attack, not so effective wearing only a towel but with no other choice, he threw open the bathroom door. One step into the room, he froze as the intruder swiveled his head.
“What the hell?” Bobby blurted. “Sam?”
Characters: Bobby, OFC.
Ratings: NC-17
Word Count: 5267 (Got out of control)
Summary: Bobby meets an old friend, a friend with benefits as he finds out.
A/N: Written for the spnsupporting table. Thanks to candesgirl who looked it over and deemed it acceptable. :)
Bobby stared blankly at the stripper not really seeing and not really interested. Seen one, seen ‘em all was his take on the matter. If there’d been any other choice of watering holes in this town, he’d have been there but since there wasn’t, he’d make do. Had Dean been there, Bobby at least would have been entertained watching the young man’s face light up but he hadn’t seen Dean in weeks. Any phone messages Lisa had taken had been ignored or not passed on. The last conversation Bobby had with her had ended in Lisa suggesting he give up. He took her advice.
The next dancer caught his eye. She could have been Jo Harvelle’s twin from the glimpse he caught of her face and that beaming smile she plastered on her face. At least, Jo with major implants and longer legs. Not that he’d had a thing for Jo but sure, he’d noticed. Hell, he might be old, but he wasn’t dead.
“Like what you see,” a sultry voice whispered in his ear. His bone-weary body aside, he was in no mood for the come-ons, the hookers assuming that any beat up old man’s goal post consisted of getting laid or blown.
“Just here for the beer,” he answered not looking at what was being offered.
“That why your jaw just hit the table?” the voice chuckled.
He didn’t have it in him to explain that it wasn’t the body he was looking at, not really. He knew the young girl on the stage couldn’t be Jo and his heart ached. Too many good people lost.
“Thanks lady, but no thanks,” Bobby said lifting the beer to his lips.
“How about you buy me one of those.” Bobby felt a too-firm grip on his shoulder as the chair beside him moved away from the table and a denim clad leg slid into it. His body tensed ready to pull his knife from its sheath.
“Relax Bobby.”
He swung his head towards the woman and let out his breath.
“Kate Morris. Damn near gave an old man a heart-attack.”
“Nice to see you too Bobby,” she smiled, “and don’t you go giving me that old man talk. I’m moving right up there so I take that personally.”
“You are a sight woman,” he said, “but what the hell are you doing here?”
“Passing through,” she said, “and I heard you were back in the game. Thought you could give me some leads, although I didn’t actually expect to find you here.”
“You’re hunting now?” he asked. “With Stu?”
“Stu didn’t make it Bobby,” she said lowering her eyes to her hands. Bobby caught her twist the silver band on her left finger.
“Sorry to hear that. We lost a lot of good men and women.” Bobby sighed and shook his head. “But you, hunting. You swore up and down you’d never get back to that.”
“I swore a lot back then,” she said, a wistful smile on her face. “Things change.”
Spring Falls, NV, population one thousand was a prime target for the demon attack, Kate started. The townsfolk had rallied behind Stu but by the time he had convinced them of their danger, it was too little too late. At the onset and in spite of Stu’s begging, she refused to put a gun in her hand again. When Stu’s chest blew out the back of him shattering bones and splattering blood over the street, she ran into the fray, dragged him into an alley and held him until his wracked body gave up its spirit. She picked up the gun and ran shooting into the street, joining the sorry few left standing. She and a half dozen others escaped into the surrounding hills. Days later, when they snuck back into the deserted town, she found her gun store looted likely by demons and hunters alike and aside from the irreparable damage to the store, there was no one left to actually buy anything. Not much point in staying. Their band stuck together for a few days, after they buried their dead but aside from her, they were just regular folks who wanted nothing more than a return to their lives and soon dispersed. Most had other family around the country but Kate’s only relative who hadn’t escaped the devastation was a spinster aunt in Portland who she hadn’t seen in years.
“I got nothing else, Bobby,” she finished.
“You lookin’ for revenge now? That’s a sorry road to travel,” Bobby said. “I seen that demon cause a lot more damage than it’s worth.”
“Maybe,” she smiled sorry eyes at him.
“So the Winchesters,” she said clearly not wanting to discuss it further. “Word out there is that Sammy actually stopped it.”
“Yes, damn fool,” Bobby smiled. “That boy did. I think his brother had a lot to do with it too even though I didn’t see that part.”
“How so?”
“Not really sure because Dean isn’t talking. Just a feeling in my gut.”
“You were there?” she asked, eyes wide.
“Yah, but the devil knocked me down,” Bobby said taking a long haul on his beer. He wasn’t going to get into the whole resurrection by an angel thing. “So I didn’t actually see the end. Probably a good thing.” Curiosity aside, seeing Sam actually throw himself into the pit would have broken what little was left of Bobby’s spirit. Knowing was bad enough.
“So you going to buy me that drink?” Kate asked breaking through the silence.
As the two of them sat, sipping and talking, Bobby felt a comfort, an easing of his soul that he hadn’t thought possible. Even though this had the tone of a wake, two old codgers reminiscing about times past, Bobby was glad for Kate’s company and he could see by the sparkle in her eyes that she needed this in just as much.
“How is it that two folks like us, in our prime just sit here and talk the past?” Kate asked.
Bobby snorted and said, “Our prime?”
“Hell yes. We’ve both got our health and all our wits, well, at least I have my wits,” she winked. “We’ve got what, thirty, forty years left in us?”
“If we don’t get ourselves killed before and you know we’re both lookin’ to do just that in this line of work.” Bobby saw the woman’s eyes harden.
“I don’t know about you, but that’s not my plan,” she said picking up her glass and downing the rest of her drink.
“Don’t none of us plan it,” Bobby said.
“Seems that Sam Winchester did and I wonder if you’re not doing the same thing as you think I’m doing, revenge and all. You could settle with your scrap yard, yet here you are.”
“Somebody’s gotta do it,” Bobby sighed. “I guess that’s always been the argument for this crazy life we live, isn’t it?”
Kate smiled at him, a genuine smile that lit her eyes once again. Stu had been a lucky man. She placed her hand over his and said, “Time to call it a night, Bobby.”
“Where you stayin’?” he asked.
“I found a real nice van that I call home now,” she said.
Bobby hesitated before saying, “I got a room up the road. It’s not much but it’s got an extra pull-out, tv and a shower if you’re interested.” He wasn’t prepared to give up this morsel of company yet. In the morning, they could share breakfast and then be on their separate ways. For tonight, it’d be a comfort to dispel the loneliness of the dark, hearing breathing other than his own. As frustrating as the Winchester boys had been at times, he missed having them around, that simple assurance that he wasn’t alone.
“I smell that bad do I?” she smirked. “Always the charmer.”
“Just saying is all,” Bobby squirmed.
“Actually, that sounds like a pretty good offer and yes, I’ll take you up on it. Lead the way.”
Kate trailed him to the motel and as she pulled up, Bobby heard the rumble of the broken muffler.
“I could have a look at your exhaust in the morning. If nothing else, I’ve got duct tape,” he offered as they walked to the room. She nodded as they entered and swung her bag onto the table, a table that nearly shook the bag off as it teetered on uneven legs. Bobby waved her to the bathroom and when she protested that he should go first, reassured her that he had showered earlier. He plunked himself in front of the laptop that Dean had shoved into his hands and said hold onto this, Sam’s computer. It had been far faster than his own with a bonus of Sam’s own de-encryption program. While Dean might have thought it would be reclaimed by its owner, Bobby knew different and didn’t see the point in wasting it.
The bathroom door creaked open and Bobby beckoned Kate over, having found some suspicious activity due south of their location. When her warm, slightly damp hands rested lightly on his shoulder, a shiver ran up his back and his muscles tensed. The gesture reminded him of his wife, and how much he missed her soft, soothing touch. Her return from the dead, those fleeting moments had added to the ache in his chest.
Kate’s hands slowly began to knead his tense muscles and he sank back into them.
“It’s been a long time…” Bobby said. A long time since anyone had even touched him, truth be told.
“Want me to stop?”
“No, it’s good. Looks like it could be demons south of here. Thought you’d be interested.” Bobby groaned as she found the tension. From the computer screen’s reflection, he saw her scanning the information on the screen.
“I wish,” she started, took in a shuddering breath and shook her head.
Bobby turned around and saw a tear running down her cheek. He stood up and awkwardly put his arms around her, careful not to dislodge the towel wrapped around her body. He patted her on the back and said what he hoped where soothing words. Damn women, he thought. He couldn’t yell at her like he would have with Sam and Dean but he didn’t know anything else. He’d never been good with the tears. When her body started shaking, he grabbed her tighter until he heard her laughing. He unwound himself and stepped away, leaving his hands grasping her arms. Tears he could manage; hysteria not so much.
“Look at me, the great hunter,” she laughed. “I’m sorry Bobby. I’m fine. Really.”
“You sure?”
“I could use a drink,” she answered, brushing the tear away, grabbing the tv remote and plunking herself on the couch.
Bobby poured whiskey into the cheap motel tumblers and pulled the desk chair around.
“I don’t bite Bobby and I guarantee, no more tears,” she said, glancing to the empty cushion beside her. Bobby had known Kate for over twenty years, even been on a couple of hunts with her and Stu but this was the first time he really saw her as a woman, a woman damn-near naked in his room. He was fourteen again, sitting beside his sister’s best friend Angie out by the pond, her dressed in nothing but a swimsuit and Bobby trying not to look.
“You mind putting some clothes on,” he blurted. “That towel ain’t coverin’ much.”
She leapt up and turned towards her bag but not before Bobby caught a glimpse of her round breast as the towel slipped slightly. He swallowed, hard. He had to pull himself together. He’d not been distracted by anyone in that sort of way in years, since Karen had passed if he was honest. He’d pushed all those feelings away knowing that was not in the cards for him anymore. Six years had passed since he had last held a woman in his arms, at least one that had really been alive and not returned from the dead. As much as he now felt fourteen and awkward, he wasn’t some teenage boy anymore and it shocked him that his eye was being turned by Kate given that he’d seen enough naked flesh, hard to miss with Dean around, and never been bothered. He rarely even woke aroused these days and when he did he ignored it until it went away, an old friend best left forgotten. He’d taken care of himself a few times after Karen died but that just ended in tears, remembering that she wasn’t there. He’d decided to give that a miss. He sure wasn’t the type to go searching for sex like Dean and even if he had been, who’d have had a broken down geezer like him, he’d thought. Hell, he didn’t know if he even remembered how to do it, he’d pushed it that far away from his mind. Besides, this was Kate, Stu’s wife.
“You might want to turn away,” she said, dropping the towel to the floor. Bobby spun away and gulped.
“Okay Singer. I’m decent,” she said but Bobby stood his ground, trying to tame the old friend between his legs who was paying an unexpected visit.
Damn, think of something else. Trapped in the car with gassy Sam. Bobby squeezed his eyes shut clenched his fists and willed the surprise guest away. Hell, if the reminder of that night in the Impala didn’t do it, nothing would.
Yup, that did it. Bobby thought and exhaled. Thankfully as he turned toward the couch, Kate seemed oblivious and he sat down beside her. She held up her glass.
“Here’s to us, a couple of survivors,” she smiled and they both threw half the whiskey down their throats.
Kate flipped through the channels, refusing to relinquish remote rights and finding nothing both of them could agree on, turned the tv off.
They talked about what was in the cards for the next year, as far ahead as either of them could really see, Bobby saying that they still were needed, that Lucifer would be trying to escape, of that he had no doubt. Kate asked about Sam and Dean again, and did Bobby think Dean would return to the hunting life. When Bobby shook his head, looking down at the last half of the whiskey he’d been nursing, she stretched out her hand and grabbed his, squeezing.
“You love that boy, don’t you?” she asked.
“Like he was my own,” he admitted. “Worried sick about him. He’s not one for letting go of things and I fear he’s gonna try and go after Sam.”
“But you said Sam’s dead.”
“Yah, but you don’t know these boys like I do. If Dean could sell his soul again and hadn’t promised his brother he wouldn’t, I think he’d do it,” Bobby said. “But he did promise.”
Bobby started on a short version of the Winchester gospels or at least he thought it was short. As he stared at the wall, getting to the part where the boys had gotten shot by two hunters, he felt Kate’s body slump against his. Her body had curled itself onto the couch and her eyelids closed. He took the tumbler gently from her hand and placed it on the side table. She grunted at his movement and draped her arm around his stomach. He eased his arm around her, cradling her shoulder and sat, eyes focused only on the cheap wood paneling opposite him, enjoying the warmth of her body and the clean smell of soap when he inhaled. This was how he should have been spending his years, quietly embracing his woman, peaceful, and content, not running around like a fool after whatever creature he could find to keep his own demons away. He inhaled a lungful of air to keep the pointless tears at bay. He needed sleep.
Kate stirred and Bobby took that as his cue. He gently shook her but when she simply snuggled closer, he slipped his arm under her knees and picked her up, walking over to the bed and placing her gently on its worn cover. He placed his lips softly against her forehead. When he started to move to the couch Kate grabbed his wrist and said, “stay.”
“I’ll be fine on the couch,” he said softly. “You get some sleep.”
“Please,” she said, opening her eyes. “Stay.”
The ache he saw in her brown eyes convinced him. He had seen that in too many lonely souls these day, his own included, lost and grabbing at any bit of contact. He pulled off his boots and crawled in beside her. She rested her head in the crook of his arm and he squeezed her against his chest. Two people abandoned with little hope left, they slept.
Bobby stirred when her head lifted from his chest but he fell back to his pillow and quickly drifted off. The whisper in his ear minutes, hours later, he wasn’t sure, woke him again. He felt lips softly brush against his and instinctively, he raised a hand to discover bare flesh. His eyes sprung open to find Kate’s face lit by the pale moonlight seeping through fragile curtains. A scrap of his mind murmured, telling him the blinds should be drawn, danger lurked outside these walls but the thought receded into the background as he saw her mouth come towards him again. This seemed far more dangerous than a possible or impossible creature outside these walls. This was real and scary as any hellhound or wendigo, scarier as Bobby had no idea what to do.
“Wait,” he shouted a little too loud as he squirmed away and rolled off the bed, landing hard on his left hip and then stumbling to his feet. He shook his head trying to clear the sleep from his brain. He’d never been good with the quick starts in the morning. Even less so in the middle of the night and he sure as hell couldn’t think clearly with a naked woman in front of him and naked she was. He swallowed hard for what must have been the third or fifth or twentieth time in the span of a few hours.
“What’s gotten into you?” he asked backing towards his duffel not taking his eyes from her. His flask of holy water seemed like a good first line of defense.
“Like I said before Bobby, I don’t bite,” she said and then grinned, “unless you want me to.”
The light reflected eerily off her eyes. Demon possession seemed like the only possibility and Bobby rifled one-handed behind his back into the bag. He found the silver flask, unscrewed the lid between two fingers and as she closed the distance between them, tossed the liquid towards her. The water hit its mark and glistened as it trickled down her bare skin and over her surprisingly high breasts. No steam except the steam that Bobby was sure was coming out his ears.
“I’m not possessed,” she said stopping in her tracks and wearing a scowl that sure looked demon-like to Bobby.
“Well, something’s taken over your good sense, woman.”
“Bobby Singer. I never took you for a prude,” she huffed and jammed balled fists on her hips, a posture that reminded him of his mother - well, his mother if she’d been clothed. He shook that thought from his brain with a shudder.
“I ain’t no prude,” he said. “I just …I just, well, I didn’t expect this to happen.”
“If we stand around here, it isn’t going to happen,” she said reaching a hand out to him, “and I’d kinda like it to.”
She brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed it softly before placing his palm on her breast, her still wet breast as Bobby discovered.
“Uh, sorry about the water,” he said, attempting to still the tremor in both his voice and the hand that lay against her skin.
“It’s okay,” she said moving her hand to the nape of his neck and drawing his mouth close to hers.
“It kinda tingles,” she breathed and pressed her open mouth to his, gently running her tongue around his lips. “When was the last time you kissed someone, really kissed them?”
Bobby nearly choked as he inhaled, willing away the vision of Crowley that popped into his mind.
“You don’t wanna know the answer to that,” he said.
“Been that long has it?” she said quietly, running her fingers over the stubble on his cheek.
Bobby looked into her eyes, hesitated and decided he was happy leaving the soul-selling, apocalyptic war stories in the past. He smiled a non-answer and hesitantly moved his mouth towards hers, hoping this would erase any lingering traces of the crossroads demon from his brain. A hair’s breathe from feeling her lips against his, Bobby stepped back.
“What now? I’m throwing myself at you Bobby,” the exasperated voice said. “Am I that unattractive or have you decided to bat for the other team?”
“No! I’m not batting for the other team,” Bobby said a little too quickly. He might have sold his soul with that man-kiss but he hadn’t been converted, at least, he was pretty sure he hadn’t. “And woman, you are a hell of a sight. How could I not find you attractive?”
“Then why?” Kate asked softly.
Bobby looked at the floor, searching for some answer that would make sense to Kate and to his confused mind. He shook his head and looked up.
“I…Karen was the only one.”
“Seriously? You never…”
“Nope.”
“But now she’s gone just like Stu is,” Kate said taking a step closer. “Do you think she’d want you saving herself for some heavenly reunion? Don’t you think she’d want you to move on?”
Bobby stared at Kate, a lonely woman, a strong woman, a woman who was not Karen. He knew in his heart that Karen wouldn’t want him to continue grieving forever and he also knew he walked that path. He’d never consciously made the decision to become celibate and would have denied it had anyone raised the point. Hell, he had denied it when Dean brought it up now that he thought about. Now that the chance to veer off onto a long forgotten road presented itself, he knew he was afraid.
“I don’t know if I even know how anymore,” Bobby blurted.
“Like riding a bike Singer. You just have to strap on the helmet and start peddling,” Kate said. “You might be a little wobbly at first but I’ll hold onto the seat.”
Kate closed the remaining distance between them, put her hands on his still clothed behind and squeezed. Bobby’s face broke out into a grin. The woman did make him smile.
“Good solid seat you’ve got there too,” she smirked. “Wanna see if we can put a few miles on it?”
She moved her hands around to his belt and Bobby felt the blood rush to his cheeks, the sweet churning of his stomach’s anticipation and the tenting in his pants. Maybe this would work, he thought as his eyes closed. He felt Karen thumb open the buttons of his shirt and slide the soft flannel over his shoulder and down his arms. He shuddered as his mind stepped back, correcting his thought. No, this was Kate not Karen. Please, Karen, forgive me. Forgive me for everything, Bobby silently pleaded.
Frantic to banish Karen’s ghost from his mind, he pulled Kate to him and with a thirst he scarcely recognized, drank in her lips. Her hands pushed his pants down and he fumbled them off. Her tongue answered the desperate probing of his. He carded his fingers through her hair and pulled her impossibly closer, inhaling her scent and felling the rush of arousal ignite his blood, an arousal that was more than just physical, an intimacy that had been missing too long from his life. Kate wrapped her leg around him pulling Bobby off balance and they fell slowly onto the bed.
He didn’t think, didn’t want to think anymore about how reckless this might be. He didn’t think about the morning light, or Karen or Stu. He thought only about the need for another that he had pushed away all those years, years lost. Her smooth skin warmed his palm as he caressed her stomach and eased his hand down her body to the heat between her thighs. Her moaned response drove away any lingering hesitation. Her calloused hands, the hands of a hunter slid their way down Bobby’s back, catching at scars long forgotten and when her fingers tickled at his groin, he felt his cock grow rigid. Castiel might have resurrected his physical form but this very real, vibrant woman was returning his guts, heart and passion. His soul might still be absent but for now, he would more than survive.
With a move worthy of a seasoned hunter, Kate flipped Bobby onto his back leaving him gasping for air.
“Ready Singer?” she growled, pupil-blown eyes drilling into him. He sincerely believed that if she’s had a knife in her hand, he still would have nodded his answer. A tendril of sanity managed to creep from the depths of his brain and he grunted out the word protection.
“Right,” she panted and as she climbed of the bed said, “don’t go anywhere and make sure you don’t lose that.”
He had no intention of losing anything and encircled his rigid penis, pulling it as he watched Kate’s back retreating towards her bag. The brief thought that if she was going to do him any harm, this would be the perfect chance, drifted through his mind. Trust didn’t come easily to a hunter.
She returned to the bed, a small pouch in her hand glistening in the shadowy light. As she brought it to her mouth and ripped it open, Bobby let out the breath he’d been holding along with his softening cock.
“Hey mister,” Kate said staring at his occupied hand, “I told you not to lose that.”
Bobby shrugged and grinned sheepishly.
“I can fix that,” she said and crawled between his legs. “Need some lube in any case.”
Her tongue flicked over the slit and she ran her tongue around the head spreading the drop of moisture that had leaked out. Kate sucked him into her mouth and applied her tongue enthusiastically to the task of finding his lost hardness. Bobby’s felt his brain shut down and his body take over as his hips moved in time with Kate’s mouth and hand. When her hand had replaced his, he couldn’t say and he didn’t care. Too soon, the cold air tingled as her mouth popped away and left a void of heat. She rolled the condom onto him with a skill that bore evidence of practice. He chose to discard any notions that conjured, focusing instead on her tongue as it licked its way over her palm. She ran her slicked hand over his hard flesh and then raked her nails over his thighs and onto his stomach as she climbed over him again. She positioned his cock under her and whispered “touch me Bobby.”
He lightly ran his flattened palms over her nipples, making her gasp as she lowered herself onto him. He caressed his hands down her body discovering scars equal in number to his. His hands grasped her hips as she moved slowly up and down, grinding herself against him. She leaned forward and he lifted his head from the pillow to meet her mouth. They devoured each other’s mouths, as they found a steady rhythm. Bobby fought to take in enough air to feed his lungs for this battle of the flesh. Too soon, he felt her shudder and clench around him. Still with mouths pressed tightly, she sucked Bobby’s tongue into her and crushed her crotch against him.
Bobby wrapped his arms around her, grasping her hips and turning her onto her back, her head to bottom of the bed. When he entered her again, relishing the soft wet feel of her returning, she stared at him from under hooded lids, gasped and grabbed his bottom drawing him in further. Bobby stared into her eyes, trying to drink in as much as he could of her as they rediscovered their rhythm, slow and gentle at first but soon accelerating. He felt her second orgasm roll hard through her body, and he pressed his mouth against hers not wanting that energy to escape from between them. Her tongue plunging into his mouth and her nails raking over his back pushed him over the edge and he came deep inside her, pumping hard and then slowing as the waves retreated. He could barely keep from collapsing on top of her but wanted to stay there forever.
Forever, as forever was bound to do, lasted a few minutes until his arms were shaking and he had to withdraw. He rolled over onto the bed and found her hand brushing the tears away from his cheeks. He briefly wondered when he’d turned into a girl but let that pass as he saw the bright smile shining at him.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Shh,” she said. She dragged him back to the pillows and curled back into the crook of his arm.
“You’re not going to be mad if I fall asleep are you, ‘cause you just wore me out woman,” he said, a shake in his voice.
“I said shut it Singer. Go to sleep.”
And he did.
**************
The rumbling of a broken exhaust as Kate’s van fired up woke him. The rumpled bed sheets were all that was left beside him. He looked around the room and all trace of Kate except for the half empty glass of whiskey was gone. He swallowed the lump in his throat and wondered at the gut-ache of her departure. Looking out the window favored him with only the raised dust from the gravel parking lot that followed the van’s tires onto the road. He did know what he had expected with the dawn but he wasn’t kidding himself that it had been anything more than two souls reaching out for a fleeting moment of solace. It was more than he’d ever hoped for and he wasn’t about to get all Harlequin romance about it, he thought. He briefly considered following her south to that lead he’d found but changed his mind. He’d continue in his original direction and hope that maybe they’d cross paths again.
The shower water beat on his back washing away the traces of the night. As he scrubbed his hair, he heard a single click, the door to his room being opened. Leaving the water still running and with shampoo still bubbling in his hair, he quietly slipped out of the shower stall and wrapped a towel around his waist. He looked for his knife but realized he’d left it in the main room. Sex had made him soft in more ways than one, he growled silently. His eye caught sight of the intruder through the crack in the bathroom door, the intruder’s back to him. The bed under which his knife lay was too far away to reach without being seen. His only course of action appeared to be attack, not so effective wearing only a towel but with no other choice, he threw open the bathroom door. One step into the room, he froze as the intruder swiveled his head.
“What the hell?” Bobby blurted. “Sam?”