Babes in Toyland Chapter 3
Title: Babes in Toyland Chapter 3
Author: JCRGIRL
Banner: emeraldheiress
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: R
Warnings: Wincest, AU, BabyFic (Non-MPreg), Flashback heavy
Word Count: ~ 5900
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Just playing in Kripke's sandbox.
Beta: emeraldheiress
Summary: Christmas with new and old friends. What do hunters and angelically blessed warriors do to let off a little steam? The same thing everyone else does...get drunk and show your ass.
Author Notes: Joey Verse and chronologically follows 'I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus' though a few years have passed. Title from the story "Babes in Toyland".
Joey slept most of the afternoon. He woke asking for his mother and Mickey, in that order, but didn’t seem to remember anything that had happened beyond that. They spent the rest of the day touring the hotel’s ice sculpture exhibit then feeding the alligators that lived on the property. That night, Bobby, Jenni and John offered to stay at the hotel with Joey so the young couples could go out. After the events at Disney it wasn’t hard to convince them. It had been a reminder of the life they’d left behind, happily left behind Dean thought, and the lure of liquid amnesia was too much to pass up.
Brochures littered their rooms detailing the attributes of the Orlando nightlife, but Dean hadn’t been in the mood for a touristy hotspot with flashing lights and top 40 hits. Stopping at the front desk on their way out, Dean flagged down the girl working behind the counter, his thumb tapping on the marble top absently, and asked where the locals went to have a little fun.
“The Dive,” she answered, sketching a map on the back of a flyer advertising the daily specials at the spa. Sliding the paper across the counter, she traced slender fingers over his hand resting there. Her middle finger lazily caressed the silver band before drawing away. A sly grin pulled at the corners of her mouth and she mentioned that she’d be by later.
“Maybe I’ll see you there,” Dean’s face lit up in his ‘grin to break a thousand hearts’ and winked. Smile never faltering he returned to the waiting trio, map in hand.
The Dive was better than the name suggested, but what you’d expect from a local haunt. The air was perpetually thick with a grey haze of cigarette smoke and the walls were lined with neon signs and etched mirrors touting the names of popular brands of spirits. Small round tables surrounded by spindle back chairs lined a wood dance floor and in the back, on a raised platform, sat two pool tables. The bar ran the length of the wall nearest the door, backed by tiers of liquor bottles in every shape and size and fronted by a tall wooden counter with taps for a variety of locally and nationally distributed beers. It was Dean’s kind of place.
Sam weaved his way through the tables packed with people to where Dean sat with Mike and Hannah, long fingers wrapped around the necks of three fresh bottles of beer. A group of college aged girls leaned over as he passed to get a better look, giggling like teenagers when they realized Dean had caught them in the act.
“What are you scowling at,” Sam asked, setting the bottles on the table before taking his seat.
“Those girls were checking out your ass.”
Sam raised his eyebrows and glanced back the way he’d come. “Did they get a good enough view or should I pretend to drop something so I can bend over for them?”
“Uh, no. That’s my ass,” Dean growled.
“I could do a little wiggle. Shake the money maker.” Sam smiled and lifted his bottle to his lips.
“Not funny, Sammy.”
“Wow, possessive much? Lighten up,” Sam laughed, lightly punching Dean on the arm. “You deserve a taste of your own medicine. You were the one flirting with the front desk clerk at the hotel.”
“Wasn’t flirting,” Dean grumbled, “Just being friendly.” At Sam’s quirked eyebrow, he blushed and added, “She started it.”
“Uh huh,” Mike and Hannah chorused, knowing their friend.
The double doors at the entrance opened and the noise of the crowded bar quieted as a large group of people entered. Curious, Dean craned his neck for a better look on the newcomers. Seven women and three men stood just inside the doors, eyes scanning the room and patrons cautiously. The girls were a mismatched band ranging from short to willowy tall with hair shades from palest gold to blackest coal. Although no two looked enough alike to be related they all shared common traits: slender, athletic builds - clothes clinging close enough to defined musculature to hint at thinly veiled strength -, confident stances and perceptive eyes. The three men were tall, the shortest rounding out near Dean’s height, and each handsome in his own way. Two were massively built, the fabric of their clothes stretching tight over powerful arms and legs, while the third’s tone was more subtle, reminiscent of a swimmer or runner. Individually they were impressive, wholly they were intimidating. Dean watched as they made their way to a group of tables in the back near the rear exit.
“Is that Casey,” Sam asked, peering over Dean’s head as the light fell across the shortest girl’s face.
Hannah turned in her chair and looked through the crowd. “Yeah. Come on!” She stood up and motioned for the others to do the same. “Let’s join them. I promise you’ll have a good time.”
At Dean’s look Sam shrugged and pulled to his feet to follow the excited girl. “I know better than to say no to a pregnant woman.”
They skirted their way around the dance floor filled with throngs of writhing, undulating bodies toward the dissonant noise of table legs scraping against concrete flooring. Ruthie leaned over to Casey, who was being helped out of her black leather jacket by one of the men, and whispered something close to her ear. Casey turned to the approaching quartet, her face breaking into a welcoming grin. She stepped around the table and enveloped them each in turn in warm, tight hugs. The affection so familiar that Dean’s almost believed he imagined the coldness earlier.
“Sit down, join us!” She smiled, motioning to some empty chairs, “Let me introduce you. Ruthie and Trotter you know of course,” she began, motioning to the dark haired girl and the bear of a man next to her, “and you’ve met Sarah,” she pointed to the redhead on the other side of Trotter, “three new faces, Beth, Leah and Rachel,” she waved her hand at a brunette and two blondes, “then we have Josh,” she nodded to the other large man, “and Steve, the only civilian in our midst,” she indicated the swimmer/runner who rose and shook their hands, “and last but not least, I’m sure you remember Ariel.” she finished, indicating the black haired girl next to her. Sam gave Ariel a curt nod while Dean glared. “Everyone, this is Sam and Dean and that man over there is Hannah’s better half, Mike.”
Glancing around the table at everyone, Sam felt a little on the spot knowing he’d never remember the names Casey had just spouted at him. Seeing his expression, one side of Casey’s mouth lifted in a lopsided smirk, “I hope you were listening,” she teased, elbowing him lightly in the ribs, “I plan on giving you a quiz later.”
Sam’s face flushed red with embarrassment as the table laughed. One of the blondes - Leah maybe? - leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been with them for six months and still call them ‘Hey you’ most of the time.” She winked.
“Except when we piss you off,” Ruthie laughed. “then it’s ‘Hey bitch’. Good thing for you we all answer to it.”
“There you go, Sam. If you can’t remember a name just use ‘bitch’. Someone’ll come.” Josh teased, throwing a peanut at Casey’s scowl.
“Yeah and just use ‘dick’ for the guys.” Casey shot back, catching the peanut and launching it on a reverse course, “or ‘pussy’ since we all know they have both.” Color flooded her cheeks when she noticed a flustered waitress standing behind her, pen poised on paper ready to take their drink orders.
Casey bit her upper lip as requests were made for beers and shots. When the waitress left to get their drinks, Casey slid down so her head could hang over the back of the chair and released the soft flesh, slapping a palm to her forehead. “Oh God, I can’t believe I said that in front of that poor woman.” she moaned. The table erupted in laughter again as Casey groaned, scrubbing her hand down her face to cover her mouth.
“She works in a bar called ‘The Dive’.” Dean countered. “I’m sure she’s heard worse. You should be more worried about Sammy’s little virgin ears,” he cupped his palms over Sam’s ears for effect, “of course with all this hair covering them I’d be surprised if he even heard you.” Dean pulled his left hand away and threaded the fingers of his right through the thick, silky locks he loved so much.
Sam leaned into the touch for a moment before playfully batting Dean’s hand away. “Asshole.” he murmured affectionately.
“Hey, Casey…”
The female voice reminded them that they had an audience and they sheepishly looked back at the table. Casey lifted her head to regard the table with a raised eyebrow to find six sets of mascaraed eyes gazing longingly at the dance floor. Glancing through the dim lighting to the densely populated area in the middle of the room, her stare went unfocused and her pupils lightened. After a moment’s pause, she turned back to the table and smiled, her eyes darkening to their natural shade as she spoke, “Have fun!” Chairs scraped harshly over the floor as their occupants stood, “BUT,” the standers froze with groans, “be careful.”
Mischievous smiles and waggled eyebrows were passed around the table and then, in a flurry of movement, Dean and Sam found themselves at the table with Mike, Hannah, Casey, Josh and Steve. The remaining new acquaintances moved from their seats spread around the table to some closer so conversation would be easier, Josh taking Ariel’s abandoned seat on Casey’s left and Steve settling in the one on Josh’s other side.
Mike stared at Casey open-mouthed then turned his wide eyes to Hannah. “Did you see…? Her eyes, they…?”
“I know, sweetheart,” Hannah patted his arm comfortingly. “It’s okay.”
Mike’s mouth snapped shut and his gaze traveled around the table. Seeing a mixture of what can you do faces and shrugs, he relaxed, but kept a curious eye on the strange new woman.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I really didn’t have time to explain. Is Joey okay?” Casey leaned over and placed a hand on Sam’s arm, the heat penetrating through the two layers of shirts.
“We know.” Dean answered, leaning over his brother. “Joey’s fine. He woke up from his nap like nothing had happened, but I still think we need to talk about it.”
“Agreed.” Casey sighed wearily, earning her concerned looks from Steve and Josh, “Just not tonight.”
“You sure you should be out tonight? Ruthie said you were hurt.” Sam directed the question to Casey but he watched the expressions on the two men beside her.
“I’m fine. It was just a scratch.” She patted his arm comfortingly then gestured dismissively. “It’ll take more than a leyak to take me down.”
Josh and Steve’s brows creased in disbelief, but they schooled them right before Casey pivoted to see what Sam was focused on over her shoulder.
The waitress returned disbursing the drinks to those at the table and setting the unclaimed ones on the empty tables at Casey’s hand wave. The conversation started out stilted, the awkward getting to know each other phase, but by the time the waitress set their third round in front of them things had reached an easy camaraderie. They exchanged stories ranging from silly mishaps during hunting, which made the humiliated main character the butt of the jokes for the next few minutes and the buyer of the next round, to epic tales of triumph over evil that rivaled the works of Homer. Wiping tears from his face caused by Josh’s animated retelling of a story involving himself, Casey, Ruthie and a trip to the lake (Casey now owed everyone another round), Sam noticed the brunette from earlier leaning over Casey’s shoulder, whispering in her ear.
Casey looked away and Sam followed her gaze to the group of girls gathered in the middle of the floor dancing together. She scrunched her face up in thought and shook her head.
“Please.” the girl wheedled in a low tone, lightly tugging at Casey’s shirt sleeve.
“Not tonight, Rachel.”
Rachel’s imploring eyes roved over the table searching for anyone or anything to help her cause. Finding Hannah, she turned the full force of her beseeching on the pregnant woman. Hannah’s rolled her eyes and blew out an exasperated breath, one both Sam and Dean had heard right before she usually gave into whatever Joey wanted.
“Go on, Casey. They’ll just keep sending someone over here until you cave.” Hannah got to her feet and held a hand out for her friend. “Come on. I’ll go with you.”
Casey huffed and stood, looking at the men at the table. Behind her, Dean could see Rachel practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “One of you has to marry me. Draw straws, cast lots, something.” Casey groused and reluctantly allowed the two girls to pull her to the dance floor.
“What was the all about? Casey looks like she’s headed off to her execution.” Dean chuckled, tracking the duo’s progress across the floor.
“It’s been a long month and Casey hasn’t allowed the girls any downtime. She just told them to have fun and they are going to take full advantage.” Josh set his empty beer bottle on the table and picked up Casey’s half full one.
“What does that have to do with…?” Dean trailed off, using the neck of his own bottle to indicate where Casey was being dragged away.
“Just watch.” A massive hand landed on Josh’s shoulder and a moment later, Trotter dropped into Casey’s vacant seat. He motioned to the beer he’d ordered earlier but never returned to drink. Like a game of Hot Potato the bottle was passed from Hannah to Mike to Dean to Sam. Trotter nodded his head in thanks and took a deep swallow, making a face of disgust. “Ack, it’s warm.”
“What do you expect? You’ve been gone for over an hour, stud. It take you that long to strike out with every girl in the place?” Steve smirked.
Trotter just shrugged good-naturedly and pivoted in his chair to face the dance floor. “Nah, only half. I just wanted a good seat for the show.”
“Show?” Sam barely glanced up from his phone where he was checking for any messages from John, Bobby or Jenni. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them with Joey, but he could count on one hand, with fingers left over, the number of times they’d gone out since Joey came into their lives.
The music changed from some pop song by the latest tv show idol search to a syncopated drum beat with a heavy bass undertone. Dean saw the people on the floor break up from upbeat groups to seductive couples.
“Ho-ly shit.” Sam pulled his mind from his lack of messages and looked past Dean to Mike who was staring at the dance floor with glazed eyes. In unison, Dean and Sam glanced to where Mike was so focused.
Through the throngs of gyrating people, they could just see Casey and Ruthie entwined together - knees slotted through the other’s spread legs, Casey’s arms draped over Ruthie’s shoulders, Ruthie’s hands spread possessively across Casey’s hips, their pelvises rolling to meet with each staccato beat, faces close enough that their breaths mingled between lips barely millimeters apart. As the chorus ramped up, Casey threw her head back and Ruthie buried her face against the exposed span of throat. The other six of Casey’s crew were loosely circled around them, body’s whirling fluidly with the music.
“What the hell?” Dean gaped. It was like a sexual train wreck and he found it hard to tear his gaze away. His dick twitched in appreciation of the sight and he looked over at his brother when he felt Sam’s large hand clutch his thigh. Sam was fully engrossed in the display, his eyes wide. Sam turned when he felt Dean’s gaze.
“I told you to watch,” Trotter smirked, lifting his face up toward the speakers pumping the sultry song throughout the bar. “Hey Man, Nice Shot.” He said impressively, “Ariel must have picked the music.”
“I don’t understand…” Sam began, turning back to the dance floor.
“I told you the girls wanted to have fun.” Josh explained.
“Which translates to they want to get laid.” Steve finished.
Turning his face toward the table, but not averting his eyes from the visual display, Mike asked, “And this accomplished that how?!”
“Because,” Trotter answered, “nothing gets a man hotter than two women doing…that.” He pointed as Ruthie’s arms encircled Casey’s waist as they writhed together, mouths close but never touching. “Even a six on the Kinsey scale would appreciate it.”
Dean’s eyes took in the bar as a whole, the medium level din created by a large number of people carrying on separate conversations at once had quieted, all eyes locked on the girl’s on the floor. The other dancers moved away to create a space around the group making them the focal point. To Dean’s complete astonishment, two men materialized out of the mass and moved to Casey and Ruthie.
One slotted himself behind Casey, his hands finding a place to rest on her waist just above Ruthie’s, while his friend took up a similar position behind the other girl. As the chorus ended again and the music fell into just the beat, Ruthie released Casey and spun around to face the man behind her. Moving to the rhythm, she guided him away to an open space outside the circle of girls where they could dance. Casey turned to her partner and Rachel slid in behind her.
Rachel’s body formed to Casey’s, her hands slipping under the arms Casey had resting on the guy’s chest to lay gently on his sides. As if of one mind, they synchronized their movements. The trio danced like that through another verse until Casey deftly ducked out of the middle leaving Rachel and the guy together. Once freed, Sarah came forward, beginning her own sensual dance with Casey like Ruthie had, and the pattern started again. By the time the song finished half of Casey’s crew were wrapped around a male dance partner with Casey sliding against Beth.
The plucky beginnings of Bad Company took over the harder beat and the girls’ movements slowed to match the new rhythm. A short, stocky guy bumped Sam’s chair on his way to the floor, his mind singularly fixated on his destination and not the path to get there. “Je-sus, that’s hot.” His words floated over his shoulder to the guy trailing behind him and the men at the table. His blue eyes leered back at his friend, “Watch the short one. I bet she’s fucking wild in bed.”
“Yeah, she’s…” The friend answered, but they never heard what Casey was as the two guys pushed their way through the circle of on-lookers.
Dean saw Trotter’s shoulders tense at the stocky guy’s comment and, in the jeweled spot lights swiveling around the bar from their place lining the ceiling, Sam and Josh both blush. When the guys sidled up to Casey and Leah, her newest dance partner, Trotter spun in his seat fast and hard enough to make the table wobble and the chair creak in protest. His eyes narrowed at Sam as if daring him to agree with the crass statement and Dean felt his brother shrink a little under the intensity of the stare.
Dean shifted his position, one arm resting against the back of Sam’s chair, the other lay on the table in front of him. Was this idiot really going to make a scene over something that happened once almost four years ago? Trotter opened his mouth, but snapped it shut when his eyes flew to Josh. Something about the man’s demeanor had Trotter’s eyes widening in shock and…maybe hurt?
“You…” Trotter stammered, accusation thickly lacing the single word.
Josh paled, one of the green lights casting his skin in a sickly light. His genial expression slipped into one of fear before his features cemented into a look of determination. “It’s none of your business.”
Trotter’s face went red and a vein at his temple stood out, throbbing.
Oh, shit! Dean cut his eyes from side to side seeing Sam and Mike doing the same. They were all thinking the same thing. Trotter was about to have nuclear meltdown and they were fucking sitting at Chernobyl.
The quiet clearing of a throat, ended the tense stand-off. Everyone turned to Steve, firmly seated between the two superpowers about to start World War III, but whose presence had somehow been forgotten. With a tilt of his chin, he indicated the dance floor. “I think Casey is ready to be rescued. Are you going, Josh, or am I?”
“I’ll go.” Josh stood up, eyes still locked in a silent battle with Trotter’s. Without looking away, he asked, “Mike, you coming with?”
Mike blinked dumbly, surprised to be addressed. His blank eyes went to Josh, causing the other man to blow out a harsh breath. Josh waved his hand toward Casey who was now dancing with Hannah, having left the stupid, stocky guy dancing with Ariel. “They’ve whipped these morons into a frenzy. I’m not sure they’ll care that Hannah’s pregnant.”
Mike stood abruptly and followed Josh to where his wife was entangled with Casey. Dean, Sam and Steve sat in silence as Trotter jerked to his feet, shoved his chair to the table and stomped away.
“You know, I hear anger management works. Dude, has some serious issues.” Dean quipped, watching the hulking man storm out of the bar. He remembered another time he’d witnessed Trotter’s temper, a few summers ago in Bobby’s kitchen. Some things just don’t change with time.
Steve snorted, “Only where Casey in concerned. Any other time he’s cool as a cucumber.”
The song ended and Josh led Casey back to the table with Mike and Hannah close behind. No one mentioned Trotter’s absence and carried on as if he’d never sat down. Over the next hour, girls flitted by the table to whisper in Casey’s ear before they slunk out the door with their dance partners. Casey remained at the table telling stories and jokes, never once leaving to seek any ‘fun’ for herself. At the first yawn from Hannah, Mike began gathering their things and making their excuses. With a slightly petulant look, Hannah said her good-nights. Giving Sam a pointed look, she told Sam and Dean to stay out as late as they wanted, remarking that between five adults they could handle Joey for one night.
“If you insist.” Dean smiled wolfishly, plucking Sam’s phone off the table and pocketing it with one hand while sliding Sam’s barely touched bottle of beer closer with the other.
Ariel came in as their fifth round was delivered and flung herself down in the chair next to Steve, her dark hair coming loose from the French twist at the back of her head.
“Can we go yet?” she drawled, finger flicking a peanut off the table.
“What’s the matter, Ariel?” Dean smirked, still upset about earlier, “You strike out already?”
“Who says I struck out? He just wasn’t all that great!” She snapped back, eyes flashing.
“Our dear Ariel has buffed the hood of enough cars that I’m surprised she doesn’t have Turtle Wax stamped on her ass.” Steve remarked to the stunned looks of Casey and Josh.
“Way to go, dude.” Josh raised his hand and waited for Steve to high-five him. “Not the best I’ve ever heard, but, for you, it was a definite improvement.”
“Oh, fuck you both.” Ariel snarled. “So, can we go or what?”
“I’m just waiting for Ruthie to decide. Once she lets me know, we can leave.”
“I’m letting you know.” Ruthie sighed, dropping into the chair on Dean’s right.
“Not interesting?” Casey’s eyes roved over the crowded space and rested on the guy that Ruthie had been dancing with, surrounded by a group of guys that appeared to be consoling him.
“No, he’s interesting enough, but…” She sighed again, shaking her head.
“Monk?”
“Born again Christian?”
“Eunuch?”
“Worse.” Ruthie replied glumly.
“What’s worse than castration?” Steve yelped and really Sam couldn’t help but wonder that as well.
“Virgin.”
“How is being a virgin worse than being a eunuch,” Dean asked horrified. Each guy at the table tried to adjust his position surreptitiously, but failed as it only appeared to be a coordinated group effort. They all shot a glare at Casey who was biting her lip to keep from laughing.
“You don’t need the berries to know how to use the twig. Anyway,” Ruthie continued despite the blank looks she was receiving, “I might as well go home to my vibrator. At least it knows what it’s doing.” At that, Casey’s lip slipped loose of her teeth and her laugh came out loud and strong.
“Alright, let’s go.” Casey gasped for breath between lingering giggles. She stood and lifted her jacket off the back of her chair, smiling gratefully when Steve took it and helped her into it. Gathering her long hair in one hand at the base of her neck, she pulled it free from her jacket. “You guys coming?” She looked down at Dean and Sam. “We’re probably going to go back to the house and drink ourselves stupid. It’s cheaper and safer than staying here.”
Dean perked up at the idea. It had been forever since they’d had a night out.
“I don’t know…” Sam hedged.
“Sam, Joey’s surrounded by people who’ll protect him until their last breath. Come to the house. If y’all are too drunk to drive later, I’ll have someone take you home or you can just crash.” Casey dug into her pocket and threw three one hundred dollar bills on the table, more than enough to cover their tab and give the waitress a very sizeable tip.
Sam could see the gleam of possibility in Dean’s eyes and couldn’t bring himself to extinguish it. Plus Casey was right. Joey was with two hunters, one angelically blessed warrior, a firefighter and an overprotective Grandmother. No group of people was more devoted than them. Joey was more secure than the President of the United States.
Smiling, he rose and grabbed his coat. “Let’s go.”
As they walked toward the door, the girl from the hotel’s front desk recognized Dean and peeled away from a group of friends. She slid up to him and wrapped a slender arm around his waist, stopping him from moving.
“Hey, handsome. Glad to see you found it.” The tip of the finger she’d traced his ring with earlier, ran over his chest.
“Uh, yeah. I was just heading out, though.” Dean could just see Sam’s head by the door and placed his hands on the girl’s shoulders in an attempt to disentangle from her.
“Stay for just one drink.” she purred, licking her red, glossy lips. “Then maybe we could go back to my place and…”
“Dean. There you are,” Sam’s voice beside him caused Dean to jump. An embarrassed flush blossomed over his face making his smattering of freckles stand out in relief.
“Sammy, I - ” he sputtered weakly, finally freeing himself from the girls grasp. He batted her hand away when it came to rest on his stomach.
Sam chuckled, shook his head and murmured, “Can’t leave you alone for a minute.” He cupped Dean’s face and turned his head so their lips could meet. Dean could tell that Sam intended the kiss to be chaste, but the girl made a disbelieving noise as they started to separate and Sam changed tactics. One large hand curved around the nape of Dean’s neck while the other found its way to Dean’s hip, pulling him closer. Dean immediately opened when he felt Sam’s tongue trace the seam of his mouth and his hands lifted to thread through the belt loops of Sam’s jeans. Their tongues tangled languidly, their lips slid over each other slowly and passionately, their mouths bruised with possession when they withdrew for air.
Uncurling his fingers from Dean’s neck, Sam moved the hand gripping Dean’s hip around his back. He finally gave the open-mouthed girl standing next to them his attention. Volleying his glance between the awed girl and his kiss dumb brother, Sam smirked. “I’m sorry,” he said not sounding the least bit sorry, “did I interrupt something?”
“Not at all, Sammy.” Dean flashed the girl the same grin he’d given her at the hotel and encircled Sam with a strong arm, reaching down to lightly grab his ass. “She was just saying how glad she was we found the place. You ready?”
“Most definitely.” Sam replied, slipping his hand into Dean’s back pocket and winking at the wide eyed girl.
Guiding Sam to the door, Dean laughed under his breath. “Wow, possessive much? Lighten up.” he repeated Sam’s words from before as he held the door open.
“Shut up, Dean.”
Dean heard Sam’s sharp intake of breath as they turned off the dark road onto a sandy path. They went under an iron archway with a double H welded to the center to find a large ranch house settled on a vast expanse of land. Lights blazed in the picture windows that dominated every wall of the downstairs and, as they exited their rental car, soft whinnies and nickers floated to them on the breeze. The Excursion was parked near the house and voices drifted out the open windows. They stepped around to the front of the car and Dean tugged Sam close.
“We could leave. Text Casey and tell her we changed our minds.” he kissed Sam, tongue delving deep for a teasingly brief taste. “Go back to our room.”
Sam sighed as Dean mouthed and nipped his way down his jaw to his neck. He tilted his head, sucking and nibbling on Dean’s ear. Tracing his tongue around the shell, he blew on the moist skin just to feel the shiver it forced down Dean’s spine and whispered directly into Dean’s ear. “We go back to our room and Dad will be on the other side of the connecting door…with our son. Here, we don’t have to hide, we don’t have to pretend. They already know we’re together and don’t care. And, I’m sure we could find a private spot where no one would hear when you make me scream.”
Dean groaned and grabbed Sam’s head between his hands and crashed their lips together. Laughter reached their ears and Sam broke the kiss. “Let’s go inside and play nice for about an hour. Then,” he scraped his teeth over the pulse point of Dean’s neck, “we can take Casey up on her offer to let us crash.”
They stepped through the front door, knocking as it swung open, and stood in the entryway. The space was done in a rich honeyed oak, from the paneling that extended half-way up the walls to the hardwood floors, giving the house a warm feeling. Directly in front of them was a stairwell that led to the darkened second floor. To the right was a large sitting room complete with fireplace and oversized furniture upholstered in dark leather. The end and coffee tables were rustic and, on closer inspection, proved to be made of old wagon wheels that had been stained and lacquered. Behind the living room was a spacious kitchen, a chest-high semi-circular bar the only delineation to indicate where the kitchen began and the living room ended. From their vantage point they could see the appliances were new but the cabinets, like most of the house, were aged.
“Oh, you made it.” Josh stepped from behind a half-wall to the right of the kitchen, beaming his easy-going smile. “Welcome to Hartfield Haven. Come on. We’re all in here.”
Hartfield? Dean furrowed his brow. He’d heard that name before but couldn’t place where. Shaking off the thought, he placed a hand on Sam’s back and pushed him forward.
Around the corner they found everyone who hadn’t found company for the evening seated at a long dining room table. The table was massive, probably the largest Sam had ever seen, with seating for at least 14 people. They skirted behind the occupied seats to take empty ones next to Casey who smiled at them warmly when they passed. No sooner had they taken their seats, a shot appeared on the table before them.
“What’s this?” Dean noticed that everyone had a similar shot in front of them.
“Whisky.” Steve answered, motioning to two bottles of Johnny Walker.
“Ariel wants to play a drinking game. Apparently we’re all teenagers sneaking liquor behind our parents back.” Josh rolled his eyes, “It’s called ‘I’ve Never’. Have you heard of it?”
“That’s the one where someone says something and if you’ve done it you have to drink, right?” Sam’d never played it before, but he’d heard some of the guys he went to school with talk about it.
“Basically.” Steve grinned, “I’ll start, but remember everyone, you have to be honest.”
“Like Casey’ll let us lie,” Ariel grumbled lowly.
Steve soldiered on like Ariel never spoke, “I’ve never,” he paused with a thoughtful expression, “made out with a girl.”
Dean startled for a moment at the statement, not once did he ever consider that Steve was gay. Maybe his gaydar was faulty? He lifted his shot to his lips and was surprised further to see that Steve was the only one at the table not drinking. Beside him, Sam appeared as stunned as he was.
Casey refilled the empty shot glasses, trying to hide her smile at both Sam and Dean’s shocked expressions. “Judge not, gentlemen.”
In the present company, this could turn out to be one hell of a game.
They took turns, each person trying to think of something more outlandish than the others. Dean was pretty proud to see that there wasn’t much Casey and her crew had done that he hadn’t - Ruthie’s ‘I’ve never given birth’ and Casey’s ‘I’ve never fallen in high heels’ the only exceptions. It was Ariel’s chance to impress and she considered the table carefully. Shrewd eyes raked over each person seated there, lingering on Sam and Dean.
“I’ve never killed a human.” she said, enunciating the final word clearly.
Dean snorted and looked around. Ruthie and Josh’s eyes were round and wide. His smile fell when movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned in time to see Casey lift her shot to her lips, cold eyes locked with Ariel’s, and quickly swallow down the whisky. Index finger and thumb holding the glass, she pressed her middle and ring fingers to her mouth and closed her eyes as the liquor burned down her throat. The thud of glass hitting wood echoed through the room.
Chapter 4