[ooc: I guess this is the return of horny!Lana? (She is so getting a tag for that.) I didn't want to write this. I really didn't. I've been trying to get rid of it for several nights now and it WOULDN'T. GO. AWAY.]
Lust's passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes. - Marquis de Sade
She couldn't sleep.
Stress from work didn't keep her up. Never did. It didn't matter what happened. If a fight broke out during a support group meeting, she was fine. If the sweet little boy with anxiety issues lost control again and blew her desk to bits, she could handle it. If one of them got arrested, she was upset, of course, but she did what she could with grace and a cool head. Work was good stress, and only helped to help her drift contently away as soon as her head hit the pillow.
No, it was one of those nights.
If it were just dreams, she would be fine. At least with dreams, she would be sleeping. These were more like daydreams that she couldn't control, images that would overwhelm her and make her squirm beneath her blanket. She would see his lips on her neck, his hands roaming her skin, his body pressed against hers, and hear the almost whisper of her name straight in her ear that made her want to claw at him like a wild animal.
Damn that Sam Winchester.
Lana gave up and got out of bed, beads of sweat already forming on her forehead, and searched one of her dresser drawers for something she knew would help her. Though she would never be embarrassed by the concept of self-love, she kept things discreet. The occasional conversation with Chloe or Lois was just fine, but some things, as far as she went, were private and far be it from her to let someone discover something that should be for her knowledge only.
Although apparently that also meant she had a hard time finding it herself. She checked drawer after drawer, and even underneath the dresser, all in vain.
"Fuck!"
It wasn't a word she used often, but she was alone and frustrated. Very frustrated.
She ran her hands through her hair and sighed, then made her way toward the bathroom. Her hand was currently not an option. She hated wasting water for the sake of a little pleasure, but if she didn't relieve herself, she would never get to sleep.